Friday, February 10, 2012

An Inconvenient Truth: With Great Brain Comes Great Responsibility

In as early as kindergarten, my teachers have glorified the immense power of the brain. I have been told that we are all gifted with a brain that can practically lift skyscrapers and save the day if it tries hard enough. All of these notions comforted me, and I felt nestled in the warm and comforting quilt which was my brain. Heart of Darkness and Joseph Conrad, however, have shown me the inconvenient truth that a smart brain is capable of committing horrible atrocities, and that intelligence does not always imply benevolence.
           
While reading the first two parts of Heart of Darkness, I was introduced to the man Kurtz, who was supposedly “a very remarkable person” (19). Kurtz intrigued me, because I really wanted to learn more about what made him so remarkable. The novel went on to tell us that Kurtz had committed horrible crimes, and this intrigued me even more. Little did I know about the disturbing truth of why everyone saw him as so “remarkable.”
           
When Marlow began explaining Kurtz’s report for ‘The International Society for the Suppression of Savage Customs,’ I was taken aback. Kurtz was a pure genius, yet he still sought to exterminate the savages whom he believed were inferior in every way to Europeans. Marlow says that he did this through “the unbounded power of eloquence—of words—of burning noble words” (50).

Throughout my entire life, I had immediately assumed that the intelligent and well-educated people of the world were naturally kind-hearted and rational. Joseph Conrad finally opened my eyes and I learned that when pushed to the edge, a well-educated and sane intellectual could turn into a monster.

This inconvenient truth began to bother me even more once we discussed its implications in relation to the twentieth century. Adolf Hitler was a smart, ambitious young German who seemed to have a bright future paved ahead of him. However, he eventually took power and “The Final Solution” erupted from his reign. Hitler, like Kurtz, turned into a monster.

In trying to come to terms with this truth, I began to think of the use of propaganda during the Third Reich. As Conrad states, “burning noble words” (50) alone can sway public opinion in favor of a terrible ideology. Nazi Germany used this tactic to convince Germans that what they were doing was right and just.

Although hard to believe, this reminder of the past gave me a great deal of hope. If a brilliant mind has the ability to use words to sway public opinion, another brilliant mind can notice this horrible propaganda and try to put an end to it. There will always be darkness and evil in the world, as Conrad explained in his novel. However, uncorrupted, brilliant minds also exist and can save the world from monsters like Hitler and Kurtz. Conrad’s novel has not only described the darkness in this world to me; he has allowed me to find a path to come to terms with this evil and seek the uncorrupted brilliance which still exists.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Blogging Around: Hannah and Sydney

Hannah Schiller:
I commented on Hannah’s blog, “Semester One: A Perfectionist Can't Be A Great Writer.” This blog effectively addresses the issue of perfectionism, which plagues many students’ writing. She also discussed how she often spent hours trying to find “the perfect idea,” but to no avail.
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Hi Hannah!

I want to start by congratulating you on identifying and overcoming an issue that I face as well; we all feel the need to find “the perfect idea.” Just like you, I had a very hard time writing my poem with this mindset so engrained in my writing process. I believed that every single word that I wrote in my poem needed to be absolutely brilliant, and that as little revision as possible was ideal. It was not until I learned to “let go” of my worn-out language that my poem achieved its full potential.

You also identified that you often spent hours upon hours trying to think of the one idea that will slingshot you straight to a glorious paper, and in doing so you were actually limiting your writing and brainpower. I also had this problem in writing my Orlando essay during the first quarter. Rather than exploring the text, reaching deep into my mind for insight, and giving up on perfectionism, I proceeded to force ideas out, make inconclusive arguments, and basically write about a bunch of bologna (which is delicious by the way, but that is beside the point). If I had been insightful like you and made efforts to let go of my writing fears, I definitely would have turned in a more thorough and interesting paper.

Thanks again for addressing this issue; I too am taking steps to crush my perfectionism!



Sydney Schwartz:
I also commented on Sydney’s blog, “First Semester,” which focuses on her struggle with “getting over herself” and finally asking Mr. Allen for help with her Orlando essay. She also mentions how she was able to move past her perfectionist mindset this semester.
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Sydney, I totally agree with your shift; asking teachers for help is crucial to survival in high school. Just like you, I started sophomore year with the fear that my ideas would be criticized and destroyed if I “dared” to share in class. Although I am not shy at all (as you know, I’m a theatre nerd), I still worried that my thoughts were not “worthy” of an Academy classroom discussion. Just as you did with your Orlando essay, my King Lear test grade gave me the incentive to finally ask Mr. Allen for help.

When I received my grade on that assignment, I was devastated and enraged. After finally cooling down, I recognized that I made some serious mistakes on the test, and I decided to talk with him about the test. He gave me some great advice and really cheered me up. As you put it, I had finally “gotten over myself.” This mindset was extremely influential in my success as an English student this semester, just as it was for you.

I’m so glad we share the same views on asking teachers for advice. I know it will pay off in the future!