Tuesday, August 21, 2007

On Tying Up Loose Ends

I was recently reading a novel that is narrated from the perspective of the protagonist. The book is kind of like a diary, so the narrator rambles on about anything she's thinking about. In the course of advancing the plot, she explains that you, the reader, must expect what is coming next. Since she mentioned a random person earlier on, she says that you must know that the character will show up again. She paraphrases the following quote from Chekhov, in which he discusses good writing: "If there is a gun hanging on the wall in the first act, it must fire in the last."

But must it? Should it? Do readers actually want every loose end to be tied up by the end of the book?

My seventh grade English teacher always said that literature is meant to reflect reality (I'm not sure if that's true. Thoughts?). In reality, is every little thing crucial? Is every acquaintance of mine going to resurface years from now in some very important capacity? Somehow, I don't think so.

I know that I'm supposed to learn from every person I meet and from every experience I have--they are important--but from a literary perspective, should every character and detail that is introduced hold some larger significance?

I don't think that it should, because it's just not realistic if each and every one does. Personally, I appreciate authenticity in novels.

What do you think?

(This question makes me think of Harry Potter. I've always appreciated how minor characters (such as Cedric Diggory and Kreacher) and details (Harry's green eyes) are later very important. I'm wondering, though, if J.K.R. introduces characters and details which truly are unimportant. Can you think of any?)

Seinfeld

You got to love Seinfeld.

Back when Seinfeld was originally airing on television, I was too young to appreciate it. I don't think that I ever even watched an episode, besides for the series finale since it was such a big deal. But recently I've become acquainted with Seinfeld, and I love it.

I love it so much, I almost died watching it. For real. Thank G-d, I survived. But it was a close call. The story itself is almost out of a Seinfeld episode.

***One afternoon, I'm watching an episode with my family. Since I'm hungry, I'm eating a pear (a pear? I know. It's a random fruit, but I can't stand apples). Long story short, there's a really funny line, and I burst out laughing. Since I'm also eating at the time, a piece of pear gets lodged in my throat, making it difficult/impossible for me to breathe. Luckily, my mom does the Heimlich Maneuver, and I survive, thank G-d.***

I'm thinking about Seinfeld today, because a conversation from a rerun that was on today was reminiscent of a conversation I had with two of my nine-year-old campers. On the show, Kramer thinks of a number between one and ten, and another character guesses that he's thinking of the number of six. He's actually thinking of the number five, but is astounded that the other character's guess is so close. At camp, one nine-year-old (the same one from the hair and sisters stories) tells me that her friend is telepathic, because if you think of a number between one and ten, she'll guess it. The other kid demonstrates her talent, and then they ask me to try too. So I join in, and lo and behold, I'm also pretty good at guessing numbers between one and ten. The first nine-year-old turns to me with a look of wonderment and says, "You're telepathic, too!" Then we try guessing numbers between one and 100, and neither of us are any good at it. Surprise, surprise.

Saturday, August 18, 2007

7 Days and Counting

I'm supposed to be getting ready for my upcoming trip to Israel. Every person I see asks me the same questions: "Are you excited?" and "Are you getting ready?" The answers seem pretty obvious to me. Who wouldn't be excited about spending a year learning in Israel, and who, with only a week to go, isn't getting ready? But the truth is that although I'm excited for the year ahead, I'm also nervous. Yes, I'm nervous. And although I only have a week until takeoff, I'm not really ready. Some of my friends already have duffels packed. The most I've done is unpack my suitcases from last semester (I finally did that last Tuesday. Pathetic, I know, but I'm a procrastinator.)

Although almost everyone I know has gone through the same experience, it's still a new experience for me, and I'm a bit nervous. Excited, but unsure of what my year will be like.

And as far as getting ready goes, I figure that Israelis live in Israel all year round, and they somehow survive without coming to the U.S. every couple months to restock on toiletries. So why can't I? Which reminds me--do I need to bring my own pillows?

Sunday, August 12, 2007

My Throat Hurts

As soon as I finish work, I get sick.

I have a really annoying ear infection that is also manifesting itself as a sore (read: itchy and burning) throat. For some reason, some of my real-world friends think that it's all in my head. They're right. It is--it's in my ears and throat, and it really hurts. So, as you may have deduced, I'm looking for sympathy.

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

Question

What does learning l'shma mean to you ? What do you think that the concept of learning l'shma is? What do you think its parameters are?

Tuesday, August 7, 2007

Campers Say the Funniest/Strangest Things--Part II

Since B. Asked--

The same kid in the "Does he have sisters?" exchange comes up to me today at lunch and says very matter-of-factly, "I have a question for you, but I need a yes or no answer. No 'maybe' or 'I don't know' answers. Yes or no."

So I say, "I'll try, but I can't promise that I'll have a good answer for you. I just may not know."

"Alright. I need to know if I'll look good with side bangs."

I laugh, because people who know me know that I know nothing about hair, so I answer, "I'm sorry, but I really don't know."

Anyway, after some more discussion, she goes into a long explanation of why she suspects that she would look good with a side sweep (something having to do with having a slightly off-center--but not side!--part). When we all have to start bentching, I cut her off and ask that we continue our discussion later.

The weird thing is that the more I interact with this particular kid, the more she reminds me of myself as a child. I was one of those kids who hated day camp. I wrote hate notes to my counselors--really they were just letters explaining how they could do their jobs better. I was never one of the kids mentioned in the weekly camp newsletter. But a plus to being a day camp outcast is that now as a day camp counselor I'm naturally attentive (or at least I try to be) to kids' feelings--at the very least, I try to make sure that every kid in my classes is mentioned in the newsletter.

In any case, I'm really starting to appreciate this kid's personality.

Friday, August 3, 2007

Birthday Party Blues

After spending the last hour driving around, unsuccessfully trying to find my friend's surprise belated birthday party, I decided to return home. (So A., if you're reading this, I'm just letting you know that I tried really hard to get to the party and that I'll be bringing brownie bites to camp on Monday. Although if my baking skills are as poor as my navigational skills, then the brownies may not be so great.) But on the upside, I learned a couple of important things tonight:
1. I need to get a higher glasses prescription.
2. Suburbs need to invest more money in streetlights.

Strangely, I'm invited to another couple of birthday parties this weekend, one of which is for a nine-year-old camper of mine (well, she's turning nine). I've been trying to think of ways to get out of going, because as much as a good kid she is, I would really rather not attend her party, especially since today was my mom's birthday (Happy Birthday, Mom! I'm getting to cleaning my room). Since my family will probably celebrate it tomorrow night, I'll have to miss a potential fancy restaurant visit for a nine-year-old's party. However, choosing not to show up to the party, which happens to be glow-in-the-dark themed, is complicated by the fact that another counselor was invited. So if I don't go, then she has to go by herself, which would be pretty awkward for her. But whether or not I do go, I have to get this kid a present. I don't think that my standard gift of a lottery ticket is going to cut it. Oy. I need help. Halevai, all my problems would be this benign.