My Latest Assignment

I enrolled at a local community college this semester. Pretty big step for me. I've always wanted to finish my degree and with my two sons now at ages where they are pretty much self-sufficient, I can dedicate the time I need to doing something for me. I attended college in Fairmont, West Virginia for a year pursuing a degree in Criminal Justice. I thought I would go back and pick up where I left off. The only problem is I'm worried I don't feel as passionately about it as I did when I was younger. It's still a very fascinating field to me but I'm not sure how I feel about pursuing it further. I'm giving myself this semester to figure that out. What I'm really enjoying is my Literature Based Research class. I've got a great professor and an aptitude for English, Language and Grammar. I'm entertaining the idea of studying Technical Writing and trying to publish a few of my own works on the side. Time will tell.

In my Literature class, we keep a response journal of the works we read. This weeks assignment was to view a piece of artwork and read a corresponding poem. We were given about 10 to choose from and I thought I would share with you my selection and my response.

The above painting is by Pieter Brueghel, entitled Landscape with the Fall of Icarus.

The corresponding poem is by W. H. Auden entitled Musée des Beaux Arts.

Musee des Beaux Arts W.H. Auden

About suffering they were never wrong,
The Old Masters; how well, they understood
Its human position; how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.
In Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water; and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.
1940

Here is my response.

In the story of Icarus, a character form Greek mythology, you learn that he was made a pair of wings from wax and feathers to escape from Crete. He was warned not to fly too close to the sun else the wings would melt. Not heading this advice, Icarus plummets to his death in the sea. Brueghel’s painting Landscape with the Fall of Icarus depicts a small water front village on the day Icarus fell from the sky. You can clearly see the legs protruding from the water and the waves that surround them. What you don’t see is anyone paying particular attention to this astounding occurrence. No one is looking or pointing. The villagers in the painting are going about their lives - plowing and tending sheep. One man, sitting right at the water’s edge, seems more enthralled with his task at hand, possibly fishing or casting nets or maybe just throwing pebbles into the water below. Something as significant as a man falling from the heavens, you would assume, would demand more attention, cause for alarm or simply curiosity. But the village is unaffected.

W.H. Auden refers to Brueghel’s painting in the poem Musée des Beaux Arts. The author explains in the first 4 lines how suffering occurs all the while “someone is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along”. Life continues no matter the tragedy or excitement around us. Auden uses the painting as an example of human apathy - “Everything turns away quite leisurely from the disaster”. Quite leisurely suggests a sense of no regard whatsoever. He describes in lines 15 through 17 how the ploughman probably heard the splash and the cry of Icarus, but it didn’t really affect him. So he chooses not to be engaged by the activity. He goes about his business. Even the ships, having witnessed something so dramatic “had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on”.

Both the poem and the painting make me think about the human condition. As fellow humans suffer, we continue our self-centered lives and turn away from or simply don’t even acknowledge the torment of those around us. It’s easier to not get involved. When we are not immediately affected, then it’s none of our business or not worth our time and energy.

An Introduction

How boring, right?

The things we share in attempts to define ourselves rarely do a body or rather, a soul, justice. I could simply relay that I am a 33 year old married mother of 2, a part-time college student and a part-time employee of a self managed business and that may be all you need to know to stick around and read my ramblings or quickly click the "return to" button and continue your search for more meaningful discourse.

Who I am is a woman with many different facets of my personality. Mostly sarcastic, rarely mild, often pessimistic and always searching. Searching for knowledge, humor, empathy...meaning. That is all I will say about who I am. Because hopefully, as I continue this blog, who I am will become apparent and who I want to be will emerge.

This is my first attempt at a blog. Usually I just bend the ear of the closest and most attentive until their eyes glaze over and I find myself standing alone amidst tumble weeds and crickets chirping in the back ground. With this blog, I attempt to not only "get it out of my system" as they say but also develop a better sense of my writing style and strengthen my writing "voice". I titled this blog "A View from the Handbasket" for reasons that make me smile inside. For the very reason that while everything around me may be "going to hell in a handbasket"...I, and hopefully you as well, will enjoy the view.