Ensler #4

            Ensler, in her text, works toward both celebrating vaginas and raising awareness of violence against women. Several monologues support this claim of celebrating vaginas. “The Vagina Workshop” tells the story of a woman who finally connects with her body and her vagina; the experience is profoundly stimulating and liberating. For the first time in her life, she is amazed with herself and left in an awe called “vaginal wonder.” In “Because he liked to look at it,” the female professes she “began to feel beautiful and delicious-like a great painting or a waterfall…began to feel proud. Began to love my vagina.”  

            Many monologues also help raise awareness of violence against women. In “My Vagina was my Village,” the monologue reveals the story of a girl being raped and tormented by a group of soldiers. Words like “They invaded it. Butchered it and burned it down,” haunt the page and the reader’s mind. Women from a Bosnian refugee rape camp inspired the monologue. “The Little Coochie Snorcher that Could” tells the sad story of girl who comes from a broken home and is subject to rape and sexual abuse at very young ages.

            I believe that she does achieve both these goals equally and it is obvious in reading the 10^th anniversary addition. In the introduction, Ensler professes, “There have been so many victories. Women speaking the word where it had never been uttered. Women standing up against local and national governments…and the voices inside them that judge and censor.” To realize the enormous amount of awareness raised the reader must only look at the “V-Timeline: Ten Years of Vagina Victories.”

            There is a slight contradiction between celebrating vaginas and raising awareness. In many of the monologues, heinous and deplorable acts are often committed to women in the hope of raising awareness through the truth and reality of it. In these specific monologues there are no celebrations of the vagina, simply because the stories are too disturbing. This contradiction is seen by reading all the monologues as one large piece. Also, the reader is able to see the dual-purpose of Ensler’s work in both celebrating and raising awareness.

Ensler #3

For Ensler, language is a very important part of her message. This whole entire movement that became The Vagina Monologues started with the word “vagina.” It was far from an ordinary word either, because along with it came feelings of “anxiety, awkwardness, contempt, and disgust.” Now that is most certainly a powerful word. Because of these uncomfortable feelings, vagina has also become a censored word in our society. Ensler seems to feel that this beautiful word that personifies a woman, has been stolen from the female gender and made ugly and embarrassing. She hopes to reclaim it; to reinvent it. The most fundamental difference among males and females is their reproductive organs. A woman’s vagina, and all its beauty, belongs to her; and so should the term, its definition, and its meaning. She should be able to say it openly and discuss it freely. Ensler sees her vagina as her “primary resource, a place of sustenance, humor, and creativity. So how on earth did vagina become a bad word? NO MORE!

The word vagina does not stand alone either. Pussy, cunt, vulva, coochi snorcher, clitoris, etc., are all words that describe and define something that is truly unique and representative of the female gender. Somehow, however, these words have evolved into making the female body seem dirty or shameful. So the question is… If all these words that are supposed to describe a female body are dirty and shameful…. which terms/words actually do exist that explain the beauty and delicacy of the female body??

To explain why Ensler asks the questions about what vaginas would wear, etc., I would like to start with a quote from Ensler in the preface: “I say vagina because when I started saying it I discovered how fragmented I was, how disconnected my body was from my mind. My vagina was something over there, away in the distance. I rarely lived inside it, or even visited.” Taking this quote into careful consideration, I think it’s pretty clear as to why she asks these questions; the woman and the vagina are one and the same. If your vagina got dressed, what would it wear? The question is answered with a long list of silly answers undoubtedly relevant to the woman answering the question. These questions offer “a personal, grounded-in-the-body vantage point of identifying with your body.   

Ensler #2

Audience reaction is crucial to Ensler’s overall project because of its ‘shock value’. The shock value brings attention and puts a spotlight on the project.  Howard Stern, a popular radio jockey, revolutionized talk radio by introducing material that was controversial and unconventional. Through this approach he made quite the name for himself. Ensler is putting shock-valued spin on her own piece of work. Instead of using the shock value to gain recognition for herself, she uses it to draw attention to two different issues: (directly) how women are repressed in society and (indirectly) the atrocities committed against women throughout the world. 

She works to push us out of our comfort zones because it’s the only way to break the chains repressing women in society. The monologues help women realize their own self-worth and beauty. It helps them understand that each woman has a unique and meaningful voice. There is nothing to be embarrassed about or ashamed of. With this new recognition they are further empowered to stick up for themselves, especially when basic human rights and/or needs are being violated.

“The Flood” represented an entire generation of older women. The general attitude of ‘their down-theres’ is one of awkwardness and embarrassment. It reads, “I can’t tell you this. I can’t do this, talk about down there,” which explains a lot. This generation of older women feels that after a certain age they can no longer express themselves sexually. They can’t even bring themselves to speak about ‘down-there.’ Ironically enough, however, in the final sentence, the older woman reveals the comfort she had taken in the conversation. Ensler also says in her intro “women secretly love to talk about their vaginas.” This makes me think about the repression of women in the past and present.

           “I was twelve. My mother slapped me.” This monologue is riddled with overtones of embarrassment, awkwardness, and fear about the menstruation cycle. It does seem mighty strange that something so natural can be seen in such an ugly light.

Ensler

Eve Ensler wants Monologues to be publicly performed because the concept is supposed to be much more than simple words in a book. Hearing “vagina” yelled out and talked about on stage is supposed to be, at first, shocking and unconventional; then it is supposed to be liberating and empowering. If it were just words contained in a book, dull and emotionless words, then this entire movement would have never gathered this much momentum, and become all that it is today. Instead, the words are supposed to become alive and fly out, catch the attention, and infect the audience. The audience is supposed to be a part of it all. It has encouraged women to stand up against the voices that “judge and censor.”

She wants vaginas to be physically embodied because it resonates inside the audience much more personally when stories have a face and a personality to them. Through these uniquely identifiable stage monologues, women can find what they need in order to “reclaim their bodies” and tell “the stories of their own violations, desires, victories, shame, adventures.” They can connect to one another and become united against the larger and much more egregious issue of violence against women. The effect this has is pretty profound. It humanizes the cause and raises awareness of a widespread issue that conflicts women.  In turn, more and more women get onboard and rally around this movement. They find “their power, their voice, and their leadership ability by becoming accidental activists.”

Night Women

          “Night Women” is a very short story revolving around a prositute and her young son. The setting takes place inside their small dwelling. At night she ‘works’ and brings her ‘suitors’ back to her place where her young son sleeps behind the scene. This story is a lot of things: it is sad and tragic, it genuine and heartfelt, and it is raw and unapologetic. The narrator says that “there are two kinds of women: day women and night women.” Obviously, she is a prostitute, but she describes herself as someone who is “stuck between the day and night in a golden amber bronze.” I believe she makes this distinction  because she refuses to be defined ONLY a prostitute. Prostitution only serves as a way for her to make money and support her son. Also, she proudly runs a household and plays the role of a traditional female and mother.
          What I noticed most of all in regard to the narrator was her amazing strength. She seems to accept the cards she has been dealt, however unfortunate, and shoulder on with both incredible hope and perserverance. She plays both her roles (day woman/night woman) the best she can. She is tender and caring to the boy by offering up her scarf, reading him stories, and most importantly, preserves his innocence with dressed up (literally) stories of angels. She COMMITTED to helping her child feel happiness in the face of unspeakable despair. In her role as a night woman, she takes ‘painstaking care’ in prepping herself for ‘dates.’ The narrator keeps hope alive in a most marvelous way; in a way that is fundamentally human.
          Of course, such a life wasn’t able to completely spare her of certain side effects. She remarks in the very beginning that,“Tonight I am much older than the twenty-five years that I have lived.” This sentence speaks in volumes. This is not an isolated feeling unique to her only. Knowing a little about the history of the Haitians, I can say somewhat confidently mostly all Haitian children simply HAD to grow up extremely fast and learn to provide for themselves. This is precisely what the narrator is doing, and in my opinion, she is doing an admirable job. This story, despite being such a harsh reality, represents the Haitian struggle and should be preserved. I managed to find a good quote in the back of the book to help further articulate this meaning. It reads, “…and since you had written them down and memorized them, the names would come rolling off your tongue. And this was your testament to the way that these women lived and died and lived again.”

1937

My next assignment is based upon the book Krik? Krak! By: Edwidge Danticat. Like my first assignment, this one will also require background research on the author to unveil some of the mystery surrounding her writing. Certain things come to mind when I think of Haiti: slightly ignorant voodoo practices, lawlessness and corruption within the country and government, Papa Doc/Baby Doc, and Wyclef Jean recently running for president - let's see if there is any of that in here....

          The story 1937 begins with the storyteller revealing that her mom is in prison in Port-au-Prince. She was dreading the very thoughts of having to make another visit. I find this to be somewhat strange considering the fact that she is reluctant to see her mother. Hmmm. Next I see “The roads to the city were covered with sharp pebbles only half buried in the thick dust.” I take the combination of her reluctant feelings, a city in shambles, and my knowledge of the significance of the year 1937 to the Haitians to surmise the condition of this brutal war-torn area. She carries a Madonna statue with her to meet her mother. The statue is known to shed tears and plays an important symbol in the story. It provides hope and meaning and consolation to her mother. “At times, she seemed happier to see the Madonna than she was to see me,” she remarks as she hands the statue to her mother. She immediately begins to break down and sob after taking possession of the statue, obviously linking some profound meaning to this statue. Her mother, along with the other prisoners, are all there for the same reasons. “They were said to have been seen at night rising from the ground like birds on fire. A loved one, a friend, or a neighbor had accused them of causing the death of a child.” Through this wacky accusation, the reader can see how prevalent voodoo was in the Haitian culture. Her mother was labeled as a witch and sent to prison.

            The narrator then reflects back on a pilgrimage her and her mother took when she was five years old to the Massacre River. Here her mother prays and tells her daughter that this was where the both of them escaped Trujillo in 1937 when he ordered the killing of 20,000 Haitian men, women, and children on the Dominican side of the river. The mother of the narrator’s mother was killed there. The surviving women became known as daughters of the river. “At least I gave birth to my daughter on the night that my mother was take from me….you came out at the right moment to take my mother’s place.”

            The story begins to conclude with the narrator meeting another ‘daughter of the river.’ She comes to reveal the death of Manman. This adds slight mystery because her prediction is right. They go to prison to watch the burning of the bodies. Her new friend says, “Sister, life is never lost, another one always comes up to replace the last.” This provides much needed hope in a world that is so bleak. She clutches the Madonna statue close to her and she can smell the scent of her mother. The Madonna is an important symbol because it represents a sign of hope. Just as the narrator’s mother had the narrator as a replacement, the statue now serves as a similar purpose. It is also interesting that it is a ‘Madonna’ statue considering its Christian roots and having much to do with the voodoo practiced in Haiti. This writing certainly is steeped in Haiti's history.

          The passing of these atrocities committed BY humanity TO humanity is DEFINATELY imperative to prevent it from happening again. The years have been cruel and wicked to the Haitians and they have clearly suffered. Raising awareness and exposing the inhumanities in Haiti is a step in the right direction. Up until the recent earthquake in Haiti, I didn't know any Haitian history. Then I read this article about 'Baby Doc' and how he had been exhiled after a failed and corrupt rule as president of Haiti. After the earthquake that left Haiti in ruin and despair, Baby Doc, decides that now is the appropriate time to return (for what? steal power back? what makes him think he will be welcomed?). Finding all this very strange I researched further and found some information on Papa and Baby Doc that was almost impossible to believe. Here are two examples:

"Duvalier's (Papa Doc) leadership becomes more extreme. He fosters a personality cult, exploiting his reputation as a sorcerer and portraying himself as semidivine, the embodiment of the Haitian nation, a voodoo Jesus Christ."

"Jean-Claude (Baby Doc) leaves behind an impoverished and ruined country. Well over half of Haiti's workers are unemployed. Over 80% of Haitians are illiterate. Almost a third of Haitian children die before their fifth birthday. Life expectancy is 53 years. Per capita income is US$300 a year."

(There is much more. Look for yourself)

More Poetry

Poetry is like my Achilles heal!

In my second approach to analyze the hidden meanings of poetry, I tried a different method from the first. Here is what my Rosetta stone reveals in my attempts to decode this particular poem:

For Mohammed on the Mountain

By: Naomi Shihab Nye

I found this poem to be most interesting considering the fact that she has never met or even spoken to her reclusive uncle. He is somewhat an enigma to the family. Nye takes what little she does know about her uncle and slowly pieces together a puzzle that delicately fits into the context of her own life. Uncle Mohammed is very important to Nye and she feels the need to communicate with him, even if this is the only way. The mysteriousness of her uncle speaks to her at night and asks if she can “See?” in an “I told you so” sort of way. She can see and she can feel all the pain, hurt, and suffering in the world. She can also see why her uncle has made his certain choices. Her uncle represents the roots she has in her native land; she fights to hold on to these roots. He didn’t flee his homeland in 1948 and upon principle, never would. “And when he stirs the thick coffee and grinds the cardamom see you think he feels like an American?” She pleads for her uncle’s understanding and stresses that her father will never lose his Middle Eastern identity. He simply had to seek refuge for the sake of a better future for his family. Her uncle chose a different path and retreated from the entire world; a world that was chaotic and whose principles had been compromised. He retreated to a more simple, devout lifestyle in the mountains. “I have made myself a quiet place in the swirl. I think you would like it,” she tells him. Nye wants her uncle to know that she has managed to live by her own virtuous, wholesome, and pious code; untarnished by the evil and wickedness so easily found in this world. She has learned how to open her heart completely and live life for the right reasons. Just as Mohammed had climbed his own mountain, Nye, and her friends alike, also climb their own respective mountains; seeking refuge to simple and humble lives. She expects that someday, through and because of their core values and principles, they will be united at the end of their journeys.

February 3

Ok. First things first. I need to understand the poet and find out exactly what stimulated and inspired her to write her poetry. What made her tick? So I read the Intro and did a little research in the library; hands on, the good old-fashioned way. We talked about it a little in class but that’s not going to be nearly enough. I need to dig it up myself. Keeping my research in mind I took one particular intriguing poem head-on and begged it to let me inside. I wanted to unlock this poem. This is how I have to read poetry or else it makes no sense to me. I need to pick it apart word for word. So if nothing else, I thought maybe this would offer some interesting insight from the unique perspective that is my own. Here is how the poem spoke to me personally:

Two Countries

By: Naomi Shihab Nye

(This is what it feels like to be a part of two countries; being uprooted from the land of my descendants and brought somewhere else. It leaves an empty feeling. I’m just an external skin and there is hollowness and a void inside of me that can’t be filled.)

Skin remembers vividly the tenderness of being touched.  It’s cohesion with other human beings. It is one of our most basic and fundamental needs. The girl remembers painfully how it feels not being touched for so long; a week easily feels like a year. “A gray tunnel of singleness,” is lonely because there is nothing and no one else here. She is a beautiful and unique feather; a piece that became separated from her great breed of species and mistakenly swept away. She was swept away by people who didn’t realize what they were doing because she is not measly dust. She was a very unique type of feather and would have contributed a great deal to the bird as a whole if it were able to stay attached.

The skin continued, however, to eat and walk and sleep by itself. It was still able to carry on its existence to a certain degree. It even began to learn how to wave and “raise a see-you-later hand” to the country that she has been extracted from and say, “It’s better this way. See you later and good riddance.”

But skin felt it was never seen because it was just skin; superficial. There is no depth to just an exterior skin. It is not whole or complete with something missing inside. Never known in its entirety like fully mapped out land. “Nose like a city. Hip like a city.” They are like cities. Cities are important trademarks of broad and defined areas. There are some resemblances she inherited and she is somewhat unique to her homeland, such as her nose and her hip. She has partial connections. She longs for a full connection, both inside and out; beautiful on the outside like the gleaming dome of a mosque and rich on the inside like corridors filled with cinnamon and rope.

The skin alone had hope, though. Inherent among humans is the ability for hope. Hope helps heal places that are scarred and makes a road/establishes a path that helps you get away from the hurt. “Love means you breathe in two countries.” Her family took that road and got away from the hurt. To seek future love and happiness meant that they dislocate themselves and breath air from a second country.

 Humans remember, though, also inherently, poignant specific pleasantries like the soft touch of silk and uncommon spiny grass. She carries with her these specifics and knows how she should feel. She doesn’t connect with it from the inside of her like she should; instead they are carried with her like postcards externally in her secret pocket.

Even now when she is not alone (because she has a new country and a new culture to embrace and be a part) she remembers the feeling of being alone and how awful it feels. She is grateful that her only disconnect is only as small as it is and not any bigger. She also thanks God or something “larger” that travelers such as her father uprooted himself from his native land and everything he loved for better opportunity for his family.