Sunday, September 30, 2012

Blog #12. "'You're The Kind The Law School Wants.'" The Paper Chase Through 20 (Cont).

"'Do you think anyone cares about the robots? The law school hates the guys who regulate their studying habits. The law school gets them without trying. The law school wants you: the earnest ones. You've got class. The law school wants to suck out your Midwestern class. You can't flunk. That's why I'm worried about you'" (115).

This is Susan, of course—ironically perhaps, being the youngest of the young people who inhabit the novel, and being a woman in a world that is predominately male—being the voice of wisdom, knowledge, and experience.  Like the law school, she finds his earnestness irresistible. Unlike the law school, she actually worries about him.

I imagine some of you may be pulling a Hart tonight (minus the instant coffee and warm tap water—you'll soon get the allusion). Perhaps some of you are Andersons in disguise, organized to a tee. Either way, do the best you can with the paper due tomorrow. Please look at the MLA rules I handed out earlier in the week. I'm expecting the periods to be in the right place on quotes. Quotes of more than four lines, block. Two or more people talking, do block dialogue. Page citations are just the page number, that's it. No (pg. 45), but simply (45). It's not hard.

Knowing the paper is your larger priority, I'll keep the questions here direct.

1. Why Hart as the protagonist? We know, he has "heart"; we know he is sensitive in a way that his classmates aren't (a perfect moment to show this: Chapter 22, when Hart is gushing about Kingsfield to Ford, other students are tromping in their wet, dirty shoes all over Ford's notes that have fallen out of his notebook). But Hart as protagonist is more than that. So why might Osborn made him our main character as opposed to the others in the group—or even Susan or her father? What's at stake for Hart in this war, as some of you have called it, called law school?

2. Your reactions to the interpretation I gave of Chapter 24 on Friday? I know some of you didn't buy it—I know some of you at least considered it. If the interpretation works for you, how so? If not, why not?

That's it. Good luck: remember to proofread and spell check, something I'm not always so good at, as Nick pointed out to me last week when I gave you the quoting guide. See you tomorrow where we'll start talking about Hart specifically.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Blog #11. "'Something's Happened To Your Mind.'" The Paper Chase, Ch. 13-20.

So says Susan after she and Hart almost die on a not-so-frozen pond. What looks stable isn't; and from a distance, as the two of them are trying to not fall through the ice into the freezing water, Hart "thought what they must look like from top: like children playing in the snow, making angels" (79). This is a great moment in the book, and aside from being a cautionary tale for those of you who will end up in college where there actually is ice, snow, and frozen lakes, streams, and ponds, it speaks to something else—it has to speak to something else—going on this story of Hart, Susan, Kingsfield, Harvard Law School, reciprocity, contracts, competition, and not losing your soul.

Before I give you the questions: one, this is the law school in the book. The first two buildings pictured in all their severe majesty (notice the barren trees and dark skies: that's winter in New England) are really one building, Langdell Hall. In it, of course, is Kingsfield's classroom that Hart cannot get out of his mind, even as he is about to die in the pond. This is a funny, telling, horrifying moment in the book.

Second: you've already seen the opening of the 1973 film directed and written by James Bridges. A few years later, the book was, as I've already told you, made into a television show that actually ran for four years. John Houseman was back as Kingsfield, and fresh-faced James Stephens is Hart, minus the moustache of the movie Hart and now with a first name, James. Look 3:37 into the following clip (or watch the whole thing to see what was being shown on television in 1978), and you will see the opening credits for "The Paper Chase," but now in the guise of an uplifting story of friendship, loyalty, and the joys of learning. As Kingsfield told us week after week, "'You come in here with a skull full of mush—and if you survive, you leave here thinking like a lawyer.'" It actually made me think about going to law school.


Osborn's novel doesn't necessarily make us want to go to law school. So...

1. What is the picture of law school we are getting in the novel? What word or phrase best characterizes it for you?  And what is the moment or example in the novel (anywhere in the novel) that best supports your characterization?  Go ahead and quote in the novel. And don't everybody repeat what's been said already, okay?

2. This is for 2nd Period only. A couple of you have talked about in class the italicized inter chapter vignettes that Osborn occasionally inserts. There was the one that we discussed of the student who killed himself. In the most recent reading is one on 60, about a visit by Robert McNamara, John Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson's Secretary of Defense during the height of the Vietnam War, to Harvard. As Andrew pointed out, these pictures don't have an overt connection to the narrative we're reading—this one takes place in college, not Law School, and as far as we know, the narrator is not even in our story. Yet there obviously is a reason Osborn puts them in the book. So what might be the reason for this vignette on page 60? What might it have to do with what we're reading? I would like all of you in 2nd period to respond to what one or more of your classmates have written.  That means, if you're the first to post, come on back and post again.


2. This is for 5th Period Only. Chapter 18 is a turning point in the book, it seems to me. This is where Susan tells Hart she can't see him anymore. "'Something's happened to your mind'" (80). What has come to a head in this chapter that causes Susan to desert him? What, in fact, is (are) the crucial difference(s) between Susan and Hart that Osborn is highlighting here—and to what purpose?  I would like all of you in 5th period to respond to what one or more of your classmates have written.  That means, if you're the first to post, come on back and post again.

3. For everyone. What moment in the reading particularly jumped out at you—and why?

Remember: there's a quiz tomorrow. See you all then.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Blog #10. "'Let Me Ask You Something. Why Did You Decide To Go To Law School?'" The Paper Chase, Cha. 1-6.


Before we really jump into this 1971 novel by Harvard Law School Graduate John Jay Osborn Jr., take a look at this clip from the 1973 film version. This is the opening scene from the novel transposed almost verbatim, that is, word for word, from the book. John Houseman won the Oscar for his portrayal of Professor Kingsfield. Timothy Bottoms is Hart. And yes, people dressed this way and had hair like this in the early 70s, even at Harvard Law School.

Hart—no first name, just as the fellows in his study group have no first names, except for Kevin (why that might be we'll discuss)—hails from Minnesota, from Nick Carraway country. And like Nick, he has made his way east in in the name of opportunity, in this case, a law degree from the prestigious Harvard Law School. You might say to yourself, it better be really f@#$%!!  prestigious to be treated the way he's treated by it, it specifically embodied by Kingsfield himself, who has been treating students like young Hart like this for thirty years. Indeed, by the time Susan asks Hart the question that leads the blog entry, we might be—or perhaps should be—asking the same question.

1. What's your reaction to the book so far? Like? Dislike? What scene or moment—other than the one above—sticks with you? Quote from the novel here. And everyone try to not pick the same scene, okay

2.  The scene above sets the stage for what we'll see occur throughout the novel in the classroom. (This is a book about school where there actually is a lot of schooling in it for a change). What is your reaction to this particular scene in the book (and you can talk about the movie as well)? How would you like it if this was the way class was conducted here—in this class for example?  Is Kingsfield within his rights as a teacher to put Hart on the spot the way he does? Does being the teacher give him the right to do this? By the way, this is "Socratic Method" that is still used at Harvard Law.

3. Finally. If you've been listening to the news the past couple weeks, there was a major cheating scandal at, strangely enough, Harvard. It's major. The captains of the basketball team have taken a leave of absence so that they wouldn't lose their eligibility if they stayed and were found guilty of cheating. Others have done the same. Some graduates could have their diplomas rescinded if they are found guilty of cheating. I thought about this when we were reading Gatsby. Gatsby is the cheater here, willing to do whatever he had to to get to the green light, an A in this case. Read this piece from a Harvard professor. Does it surprise you that there so many students would cheat? What is your response to what this article, what the writer, says about the rationale given for cheating? Is this applicable to Paideia?

I hope you enjoyed your class trips. Expect a quiz on Thursday. I'm looking forward to hearing what you think about our new book—which wasn't only a movie, but also a television series on both CBS (for a season) and Showtime (for three seasons). Who'd a thought a story about law school could last for four years on American television?

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Blog #9. "And As I Sat There, Brooding On The Old Unknown World, I Thought of Gatsby's Wonder When He First Picked Out The Green Light At The End Of The Dark."

So we come to the end of what's been called the great American novel. It may or may not be, but it sure holds up well.  I should know, I've read it probably a dozen times, and as I've said in class, I still find new things in it. And especially in this latest reading, the first time I've ever taught it to an upper level class. The energy of the first weeks of discussion ebbed a little here at the end; maybe the discussion felt a little drawn out by this time. If so, sorry about that. But this is a book, for me, that never gets old. It's as relevant and timely today as it had to have been in 1925, in the midst of the wild jazz era of Prohibition where the rich indeed cavorted the way our characters do. Little did they know that the good times were about to come to an end in a few short years when the Great Depression will devastate America and the world. Fitzgerald obviously couldn't tell the future, but the clarity with which he saw the world of the rich, the clarity with which he saw the climate of America at this moment, both point to a breakdown, a crash, moral if not financial, that had to come. And it did.

Fitzgerald has not finished with Gatsby's life story, even at the end of the novel. His father appears, and he declares "'If [Gatsby] had lived he'd of been a great man...He'd have built up the country," to which Nick can only reply, "'That's true'"—"uncomfortably" (176). We get our last little bit of evidence of where Jay Gatsby began: "'Look here, this is a book he had when he was a boy. It just shows...Jimmy was bound to get ahead. He always had some resolves like this or something...'" (182). So...

1. Clearly, Mr. Gatz is wrong about the Gatsby we know—as Nick himself knows. Yet, given this last bit of evidence Fitzgerald provides in the book of adolescent James Gatz, could Gatsby have been a man to have built up the country? Why?

2. The final part of the American Dream narrative implicit in Gatsby's story on the last page of the novel where Nick, before heading back to morally upright and uniform, postcard-like memories of his mid-western home, looks one last time on Gatsby's "huge incoherent failure of a house" (188). "I then," he thinks, "became aware of the old island here that flowered once for Dutch sailor's eyes—a fresh, green breast of the new world.." Look at the rest of the page to the end of the novel. What do you make of this final moment of the book? And in what way(s) does this, perhaps, reinforce the American Dream aspect of the story?  Quote a couple times in your response.

3. Finally. Is Gatsby great? If so, in a sentence, say why. If not, in a sentence say why Nick would think that he is (though he never comes out and says it).

I will not be in school tomorrow, unfortunately—I'm nursing a raging sore throat (not that you really needed to know that). You'll get your first essays and Gatsby topic on Friday. Tomorrow I want you to discuss your responses as a class (Nat should be your sub, and he, smart man that he is, loves this book). No quiz. Friday we will wrap this up. Next week you will work on your essays in class. I look forward to reading your responses tonight. Have a good class tomorrow—give Nat a reason to rave about great, attentive, and smart—wicked smart, as they say in New England—you are. See you Friday.


Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Blog #8. "If That Was True He Must Have Paid A High Price For Living Too Long With A Single Dream." Gatsby, Ch. 8.

"And the holocaust was complete" (170).

It all comes to a tragic end—or maybe a totally ridiculous end—as Wilson tracks down Gatsby, kills him in his swimming pool, then turns the gun on himself. How are we supposed to feel about this? Nick goes from "I disliked him so much...that I didn't find it necessary to tell him he was wrong" [about anyone seeing his car] (151) to "They're a rotten crowd...You're worth the whole damn bunch put together." And again, Nick reiterates how he "disapproved of [Gatsby] from beginning to end" but still felt compelled to write about him as a heroic figure who was "exempt"(6) from the contempt he had for all the others in this world. If Nick himself cannot seem to get his feelings in consistent order about Gatsby, so how are we supposed to think about the man in his "gorgeous pink rag of a suit"(162)? This, of course, will be our conversation for the remainder of the week, tied in with the connection between Gatsby's dreams and The American Dream.  But first:

1. "He had intended, probably, to take what he could and go—but now he found that he had committed himself to the following of a grail" (156 or 149). Grail? Daisy has become his grail? What does this mean? And how does this help explain his mad, obsessive pursuit of this (my words) truly ordinary girl?

2.              "God sees everything," repeated Wilson.
                 "That's an advertisement," Michaelis assured him. (167 or 160).
We've not talked about the eyes of T.J. Eckleburg, other than as a reminded of the lack of vision the characters have (Gatsby seeing Daisy as a grail, as a stairway to heaven, for example). But here nearing the end of the novel, Fitzgerald finally addresses this bizarre feature in the landscape of the book. Is Wilson simply being insane here—the incoherent ramblings of a deranged husband? Or does he have a point—does he "see" something that others, including the readers, have missed? Is Fitzgerald messing with us or is he telling us something essential and profound about this world? What do you think of Wilson's observation? What is Fitzgerald saying with this?

Write a couple hundred words. Finish the novel, if you haven't already, for Thursday. There will be a quiz on the end of the book on Thursday, and the paper assignment for the book. See you tomorrow.
 

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Blog #7. "'I Disliked Him So Much By This Time That I Didn't Find It Necessary To Tell Him He Was Wrong." Gatsby, Ch.7.

"So the whole caravansary had fallen in like a card house at the disapproval in her eyes" (120).

What began with stairways to heaven and shirts thrown like confetti into the air has become a full flung daily affair conducted in broad daylight as the parties have ended and Gatsby's servants are replaced by "villainous faced" men who won't "gossip" (120-121). Who finds Daisy and Gatsby cute now?

The conflicts come to a head, truths are revealed, innocents die (and I would call Myrtle an innocent in this sickened and sickening world, "sick" a state shared by both Wilson and by the end Nick himself—though I'm not sure Nick is so innocent at the end of this chapter). 

1. So what is your reaction to this chapter? What quote or moment or scene particularly jumped out at you or stayed with you even after you read? And why? Go ahead and quote in your response.

2. I asked Friday if Daisy objectively was worth what Gatsby did to get her back. How would you answer that question now (and by the way, this is the last we see of her in the novel)? In fact, what do you think of Daisy now? Quote once in your response.

3. "I'd be damned if I'd go in; I'd had enough of all of them for one day and suddenly that included Jordan too" (150). Fitzgerald could be speaking for all of us by this point in the book. Who have you had "enough" of the most by the end of this chapter—and why? Go ahead and quote in your response.

Take a few minutes to answer this: this 200 words or so in all. Don't forget that I'm looking for proper spelling and mechanics in your responses. Try not to repeat each other.

Finally. Not only is Gatsby coming to the 24 screen metroplex nearby, but is also returning to the stage in New York appropriately enough. Gatz is a nearly 7 hour reading aloud of the entire novel. It was a hit when first performed by the experimental theater troupe Elevator Service Repair.  There is a review of the original production on my board next to the clock—and a positive review it is.  Take a look at this and this. And PLEASE look at this. This is how the production actually looks.

Tomorrow we start pulling everything together and seeing what really does the book have to do with American Dream. I bet by now you can tell me. See you then.




Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Blog #6. "His Bathroom Was The Simplest Room Of All—Except Where The Dresser Was Garnished With A Toilet Set Of Pure Dull Gold." Gatsby, Ch. 5.

Go about a 1:15 into the trailer: notice Tom on his horse and the immenseness of his mansion. And a few seconds later notice the brief clip of Gatsby flinging his shirts into the air:



Watch, too, this clip from the 1974 version of the novel (or you can simply go to the 10 minute mark). I think it's pretty much as major a failure as it can be as an adaptation of perhaps a nearly unfilmable book (we'll see how the new one works out). But it gets this moment right: Gatsby (Robert Redford), again, flinging those shirts, and Daisy (Mia Farrow) burying her face in one and sobbing about its beauty.


Isabella said this was one of her favorite moments in the novel—as it is for me as well. And like the Valley of the Ashes it begs for interpretation. Look at this moment in your book, page 92 (97 in my edition), that begins with "Recovering himself in a minute, he opened for us two hulking patent cabinets which held his massed suits..." and finishes with Daisy sobbing, "'They're such beautiful shirts...It makes me sad because I've never seen such—such beautiful shirts before.'"

This is one of those head scratching moments in the book: why is Gatsby flinging his shirts ("piled like bricks in stacks a dozen high") all over his room, and why is Daisy so visibly moved by them? Is it really because she's never seen "such beautiful shirts before"?

So—tell us, why is Gatsby flinging  and why is Daisy crying? Go ahead and quote three times from the book in your response. As always, feel free to respond to others in the class. Write a couple hundred words—take 15 minutes or so to write.

Tomorrow we will talk about this great romantic couple, Gatsby and Daisy.  See you then.

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Blog #5. "It Never Occured To Me That One Man Could Srart To Play With The Faith Of Fifty Million People—With The Single-Mindedness Of A Burgler Blowing A Safe." Gatsby, Ch. 4.

Nick's description above is not of Gatsby (though as I write this, knowing the rest of the book, themes like deception, faith, and money will come to bear concerning our titular hero). It's Meyer Wolfshiem, he of the human molar cufflinks and ferociously delicate eating habits, and his mind-blowing claim to fame is fixing the 1919 World Series. Fitzgerald based him on a notorious New York gambler and gangster, Arnold Rothstein. Fitzgerald's use of real events and thinly-veiled real figures speaks, I'd argue, to his desire for the reader to see the currency and timeliness  of his story, and particularly the currency of Gatsby's story. Like a mystery writer, Fitzgerald is parsing out the details of his "hero" carefully and selectively. And while Nick may be taken by Gatsby, we must be more discriminating and careful.

1. So speaking of discrimination and skepticism, go back and take a look at the life story Gatsby gives Nick on 65-67(69-71 in my edition). Do you buy this story—do you believe it? Why or why not? Quote a couple times in your response.

2. Nick ultimately does buy it. What's does that say about him to you?

3. "'It's pretty, isn't it, old sport?'" Gatsby says proudly of his car on 64 (68 in my book). Nick does admit that everyone has seen the car, but he neither agrees nor disagrees with Gatsby's assessment of it. Look at the description, another great one by Fitzgerald. So is it a "pretty car"? And what might be the significance of the car if it is pretty—or if it isn't? Quote a couple times in your response.

4. Finally: we now know that Gatsby and Daisy had a relationship once. And we get Daisy's back story for the past five years (she met Gatsby when she was 18, which makes her in the present of the story 23—much younger than I expect every time I read the novel). How do you see Daisy now, now that you know something of her past? Do you find her sympathetic? Not? Does she seem worth buying a mansion to be near you? Look at 74-77 or 69-83.

This is due by 8AM on Tuesday morning. No more make-ups anymore. See you then!