I recently read Walt Whitman's A Clear Midnight. This is the type of poetry I love. It is straight to the point and extremely easy for me to understand. For me, it is the way all works of literature should be. Many nights i have stayed awake reflecting on that day and my life in general. At the end of the day, nothing really matters. looking into the midnight sky we realize this. We recognize the wonder and awe of the world. We realize how little we are in such a magnificent world. The book you read or art work you created or saw, at the end of the day does not matter. We are all looking at the same sky. We are all the same and we are all nothing in the scope of the universe. We all have the same worries, or themes. We all generally have the same problem. The ending was a little surprising to me in the mention of death. Although i do recognize that death goes hand and hand with sleep. I did not see that coming. However, it does make sense when given a second look. As we slip into lack of thought that is our slumber we are in a state very similar to death. This really is the summation of the whole poem. Like late night thoughts while staring into a midnight sky, when we die we let everything go. Books and art don't matter. We are nothing.  

While reading Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll, I ran into many words I didn’t know. However, amazingly, I was still able to know exactly what was going on. It is as if the tone and essence of this poem is so strong that even without a perfect vocabulary I can still completely understand. Brillig, for example, is the time when you begin boiling things for dinner. Or toves, which are types of seeds. Even the wabe, or the honeycomb, I did not know. There are many more. To be completely honest, I didn’t know 11 out of the first 18 words. Now I could keep going and tell you that a mome is a dull person, or a borogove is a thin shabby bird. But that would be monotonous. The point is I didn’t know what the words meant, but I know what Lewis Carroll was saying. Now how does that work? Its an interesting thing, this poem. It goes to show just how important it is to have a tone, a voice, a flow, of sorts, in your writing. It carries you right through to the ending which you can figure out. Its like riding in a train. You look out the window, everything is blurred. However, you can still make things out enough to know where you are. And as you approach your stop, the ending, things slow down, and they become clear, and you see exactly where you are headed, or where the work is headed. It seems that people love twist endings, not me. There is something perfect and beautiful about a well-written predicable story. Sometimes it’s nicer to be able to look out the window and not have to worry about the train turning off course. When you don’t have to worry about what will happen next, you can appreciate what is happening now. One final way of saying this is, when I know where im going, it is much easier to appreciate how I am getting there. For me, that is where the true beauty lies in literature. Anyone can write a story that jumps al over. This may be exciting but it isn’t what gets your soul. The works that touch me are the ones where I know the ending, but the way in which I get their still leaves me in awe. That is what books are all about.

While reading a very old man with enormous wings the first time through, I really wasn’t sure what it was all about. However, when I read through a second time, now with a basic understanding of plot, the purpose of the work was clear. Furthermore, I couldn’t agree more with what the author was trying to get across. It was clear that he wished to mock societal values and standards in many ways. The main thing that fell in line with my thinking process is the author’s mockery of Catholicism at the time. I am a practicing catholic. I consider myself a person of strong faith. However, like the author, find it unreasonable, borderline idiotic, to need a pope or bishop, to tell me what is right in front of my eyes. Even though this work was written in a different time and a different place I do believe some of the issues relate. Too many people need, want, or wait for another human being of “higher religious value,” if you will to tell them about their own faith. People are so awed by religion that they think it is something out of touch. Even in this story for example when an angel comes flying in front of you still ask for help from someone “higher up.” I say, quite frankly, screw that. People are intelligent by nature. We can make decisions. We don’t need some person to tell us what is happening with our faith. We need to take charge. I really connected with this portion of the story.  The author uses some satire to get this idea across. The best part is the way he speaks of the communication between church figures. Letters, letters, and more letters, sent one by one. His tone is not one of condescension. It is more matter of fact, like he is telling the story how it is. His tone isn’t necessarily sarcastic but in a way it is. He knows the words he is saying are mocking the church. He lets the reader realize that, however, which makes for a more interesting reader experience. His sarcasm unwinds as you grow to understand the short story, and that’s pretty cool. All in all this was a great read.

An issue that is criticized in a very old man with enormous wings that I relate to and agree with is the idea of the "herd" and the idea that all success is at another's pitfall. Unfortunately, at all times in history worldwide, people mindlessly follow. There have been many groups with a mob mentality in history. This is just another example. The author mocks this idea when he talks about the group throwing rocks at the Angel. It is sad that people fear and abuse those that they do not understand. Every worse, they do it mindlessly. They see one doing it and they all follow. Before you know it all people are hurting someone else for no reason. The second point is the success at another's pitfall. At all times in history we see this. Whether it's rich southerners during slavery, or large corporations selling products for over 1000% of production cost from their plant in China or India. No matter what. When someone succeeds, someone else fails. There has to be a loser if someone wins. This happens again with the angel. The husband and wife make a fortunate off of the misfortune of an angel. What does it say about human nature that even the most sacred of god's creatures is taken advantage of for our own material earthly gain. It is sad reflection on human nature.