Poetry Mondays: East Coker

I spent Saturday night lost in London. It was my fault, really: in a hurry, I jotted down an incorrect address and ended up halfway across town, fruitlessly searching for a (non-existant) bowling alley. Eventually I realized my error and popped back on the Tube to head westbound, disgruntled.

When I (finally) got back on the Tube, I was seated next to a young woman thoroughly engrossed in a book. I was curious as to what she was reading: I could make out that it was poetry, but not the text of the book. (Snooping thwarted!). But, even without being able to divine her book choice, it made me think about how I rarely read poetry.

So! Poetry Mondays!

And, to kick it off, a passage from T.S. Eliot's "East Coker". As winter approaches and the days get shorter and shorter, I'm reminded of the following passage:

O dark dark dark. They all go into the dark,

The vacant interstellar spaces, the vacant into the vacant,
The captains, merchant bankers, eminent men of letters,
The generous patrons of art, the statesmen and the rulers,
Distinguished civil servants, chairmen of many committees,
Industrial lords and petty contractors, all go into the dark.

(The full text can be found here.)

Of the mind, of the self

''And what is identity? The cognitive system arisin' from the aggregate memories of that individual's past experiences. The layman's word for this is the mind. No two human beings have the same mind. At the same time, human beings have almost no grasp of their own cognitive systems. I don't, you don't, nobody does. All we know -- or think we know -- is but a fraction of the whole cake. A mere tip of the icing.''

An Ode to Hermoine

Oh man. I saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows last night, which means I'm still a little hyped up from the sweet deliciousness of dropping into J.K. Rowling's alternate universe for an evening. (Even better, I came home and discovered the Harry Potter wiki, leading to an embarrassing amount of time spent reading about the various character's connections. Draco marries Daphne Greengrass's sister? Who knew?)

But the highlight of the movie for me was watching Hermoine Granger's evolution. Smart, resourceful, courageous -- she's clearly the star of this film. And, in particular, it's hard not to contrast her with another popular teenager character: Bella in Twilight.

Earlier this week, I posted this article on my Facebook, which discusses some of the differences between the women in Harry Potter and Twilight. The author's pre-teen daughter offers the following explanation of the differences between Potter and Twilight fans:

There are 'Potter' people, and there are people who like Stephenie Meyer's 'Twilight' series -- and very little overlap exists between the two groups. 'Twilight' fans imagine their teenage selves being fought over by men, she says; 'Potter' fans want to fight for good alongside the men. My daughter knows which type of young woman she wants to be.

Now, don't get me wrong: I enjoyed the Twilight series. But I thought that passage captured the key distinction between the female protagonists in the series and explains why Harry Potter captured my attention in a way that Twilight never will.

Both are teenagers transplanted into new worlds (Hogwarts, Washington). Both face issues of complicated teenage emotions: navigating feeling like ''the other'' in new environments, raging hormones, parents who just don't understand. Both face imminent dangers to their lives.

But I think the notable difference is how they react to these challenges. When Ron chooses Lavender Brown for the object of his affection, Hermoine is upset -- but she moves on with her life (even while studiously ignoring him). When Edward leaves Bella, she falls apart, sinking into depression and self-destructive behavior.

And when faced with threats to their lives, they each take different paths: Bella spends a large part of the series allowing Edward and Jacob to handle the evil vampires (until, of course, Edward can impart his own superhuman powers to Bella). Hermoine? She's not waiting around for the boys to fix things; years of diligent academic pursuits have made her a force to be reckoned with, one who can decipher ancient runes, tell off the Minister of Magic for his violation of Magical Laws, and conjure potions beyond most wizards' ordinary capabilities. Clearly, she's no wallflower waiting to be rescued.

Stephanie Meyer has defended her portrayal of Bella after critics lambasted the series for being anti-feminist, explaining that feminism is about choice and Bella needs to make the choices that are right for her. While I'm not going to argue about whether Twilight is anti-feminist or not, I do think that there's an important distinction in how each character approaches presented hardships.

And, for that, give me plucky, feisty Hermoine over sullen, woe-is-me Bella any day.