This is a re-post. The original post was July 12, 2007. I accidentally disabled the track and i haven't figured out the way to fix it.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Serious Times
This is a re-post. The original post was July 12, 2007. I accidentally disabled the track and i haven't figured out the way to fix it.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Review (Beah)
I just finished reading Ishmael Beah's memoir, A LONG WAY GONE, and had to take a few minutes to compose myself and "take in" all the unsettling nuances of the text. A LONG WAY GONE is about Beah's experiences as a child soldier in Sierra Leon in the early 90s and the mind boggling atrocities and brutalities that helped to shape his life as it is. I first saw Beah in a television interview with Steve Paikin on TVO's, "The Agenda" back in May about his abovementioned book. I recalled taking issue with some of the questions Paikin was asking Beah because the politics of race and violence was still fresh in my mind. I nonetheless kept the book's title in the back of mind, never thinking that i would actually go out and buy it. Turned out i did, on July 06, 2007, and here is my review:
The memoir is more than a dictation of Beah's experiences; it is a riveting account of the realities of war and what it means to exist in a war torn country with no breathing space for hope, freedom and redemption. His memories of his experiences in the army are profoundly disturbing and it forces you to psychologically negotiate your own humanity, not in the context of war because you still can't imagine being forced to participate in and help to direct the course of a civil war bent on miming and executing others, but through sheer perplexity and bewilderment. When reading Beah's work, you sometimes close the book and dream with him, you go through war, rehabilitation and more war. You open your eyes, but you cannot keep your mouth shut because you are seeing all the blood and dead bodies, children and women screaming for their lives and warlords sporting AK47s and machine guns which the author vividly describes.
By the second half of the text, the plot starts to feel like something fit for the silver screen; it just becomes more and more riveting, nauseating, heart piercing and unfathomable all at the same time. You fall in love with Beah because you admire his courage, determination and resilience when, in fact, given the situation of the war, you would want to lay down and beg someone to shoot you. Undoubtedly, this is a demanding text. It demands your attention, exclusively, and demands that you spend some time in your own head deciphering what you have witnessed between the pages of the text. It makes you contemplate the innermost questions of what it is to exist among others by showing you the extent of your own evil, which, if given the circumstances and space to breed, can transpire above and beyond your wildest dreams of your own capability. This is a text that scares you, if only to reflect upon the values and structures of your own society. It offers you no answer to the pain and trauma that surrounds the text like a golf of smoke, but asks that you think about them, meditatively.
With the present-day international conflict predominating the media and our coffee shop conversations, this text is good timing because it speaks to the broader global, historical and human problems that we face in this post-modern era. A LONG WAY GONE is about a child soldier engulfed in a "mad" civil war but it goes beyond the the problem of recruiting and exploiting children to touch upon the very meaning of war and what it means to fight for change and national morality. It is a text worth reading a million times over.
The memoir is more than a dictation of Beah's experiences; it is a riveting account of the realities of war and what it means to exist in a war torn country with no breathing space for hope, freedom and redemption. His memories of his experiences in the army are profoundly disturbing and it forces you to psychologically negotiate your own humanity, not in the context of war because you still can't imagine being forced to participate in and help to direct the course of a civil war bent on miming and executing others, but through sheer perplexity and bewilderment. When reading Beah's work, you sometimes close the book and dream with him, you go through war, rehabilitation and more war. You open your eyes, but you cannot keep your mouth shut because you are seeing all the blood and dead bodies, children and women screaming for their lives and warlords sporting AK47s and machine guns which the author vividly describes.
By the second half of the text, the plot starts to feel like something fit for the silver screen; it just becomes more and more riveting, nauseating, heart piercing and unfathomable all at the same time. You fall in love with Beah because you admire his courage, determination and resilience when, in fact, given the situation of the war, you would want to lay down and beg someone to shoot you. Undoubtedly, this is a demanding text. It demands your attention, exclusively, and demands that you spend some time in your own head deciphering what you have witnessed between the pages of the text. It makes you contemplate the innermost questions of what it is to exist among others by showing you the extent of your own evil, which, if given the circumstances and space to breed, can transpire above and beyond your wildest dreams of your own capability. This is a text that scares you, if only to reflect upon the values and structures of your own society. It offers you no answer to the pain and trauma that surrounds the text like a golf of smoke, but asks that you think about them, meditatively.
With the present-day international conflict predominating the media and our coffee shop conversations, this text is good timing because it speaks to the broader global, historical and human problems that we face in this post-modern era. A LONG WAY GONE is about a child soldier engulfed in a "mad" civil war but it goes beyond the the problem of recruiting and exploiting children to touch upon the very meaning of war and what it means to fight for change and national morality. It is a text worth reading a million times over.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
My Golden Star
I woke up late this morning because sunshine did not peek through my bedroom window. My friendship with her goes way back, but we haven't been the best of friends lately because she believes that i am using her to get what i want. The truth is, she has an anger problem but doesn't want to admit it because it will deter her other friends from tanning and sun bathing. She gets grumpy when it rains and, at times, won't come out for days. Everyone is happy when she's at her brightest, but no one will stay in her company for too long (because like i said, she has a red hot temper problem). My daughter loves sunshine very much and is adamant about seeing her everyday, so i wrote this poem for her to say to sunshine on her very next grumpy day:
My Golden Star
Sunshine, Sunshine,
where are you?
why won't you come out
and play with me?
I love apples, oranges
and bananas too,
all things pleasant will come
to you
you are my friend,
so glorious and free
today, if i see you,
I'll be sure to let you know
you are my only, lucky
golden star!
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
On Motherhood
It's not easy being a mom. Having a child takes so much out of you; you forget to comb your hair, check your clothes before throwing them on, heck, you sometimes can't remember if you've taken a shower all day! It's fun, though, to watch your child grow and notice each little development and transformation. I still can't figure out how people with three or four children handle it. Moms should get a check in the mail every month for just being moms; after all, they are responsible, for better or worse, for raising these little aliens to be good and law abiding citizens. I love my daughter to death. I can't imagine life without her in it. The trouble is, my life has never been the same since she entered it: lack of sleep, weight gain, appointments, you name it. It's not all about me anymore that's for sure! I'm now, officially or unofficially, a doctor, teacher, nurse, dietitian, counsellor, personal support worker, secretary, interior designer, general consultant, fashion auditor.... I wonder what kind of woman she will turn out to be? With all my hard work, hmmm, we'll see...
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Lucille
She cringed at the smoke filled room with its blood stain panels and crocodile ceramic. It took her a while to find the place. She had found it nonetheless...in spite of her difficulty to distinguish between the shock waves of her dreams and the fears that define the reality of her existence. She had travelled the distance alone, without the help of a map or an interpreter. It was supposed to be a trip to find answers, but she was sure that the hollow in her life would call for more than simple awakenings. She surveyed the room, hoping to find a clue in the mass of objects which surrounded her. Nothing. The lonely occupants scrambled to find nourishment in whatever remains they could find while she gazed randomly at piles of unread manuscripts and paraphernalia. Almost imperceptibly, she noticed the darkened window sills and webs, as if, they too, had been tainted by the sempiternal sorrows of the place...
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