“Crank is more than a drug. It’s a way of life. You can turn your back. But you can never really walk away.” Kristina, the main character from my favorite novel Crank by Ellen Hopkins, stated this line. Crank does not contain any sinister vampires or spine-chilling ghosts, but if one looks at this novel in depth, it does contain the essentials of every vampire story that Foster presents in the third chapter - Nice to Eat You: Acts of Vampires. The three essentials are the “vampire,” a “virgin,” and the sexual longing that exists at sometime within the novel between the two.

The “Vampire”:

            What is the first image that appears in one’s mind when the hearing the word vampire? Everyone sees the traditional vampire as a eerie man with snow white skin, jet black hair, a red-satin cape, and blood-stained lips rising from a dusty coffin when the clock strikes twelve, right? Well Foster reveals, “You don’t need fangs and a cape to be a vampire.” Vampires or the vampire figures presented in a story are only there to place fear in one, giving he or she a “good scare.” In Crank, the “vampire” is just a boy named Adam. After spending the summer in Albuquerque with her addict father, Kristina meets Adam, who leads Kristina down her path of destruction that includes crystal meth. Adam is “alluring dangerous, mysterious,” and even though he does not suck blood from the neck of the “virgin” of the story, Adam does inflict pain on the so-called “virgin,” just like the classic vampire tales go.

The “Virgin”:

            Also, in every classic vampire tale there is a virgin. An innocent bystander, beautiful and helpless (it seems), who gives the vampire or vampire figure control, giving the vampire the sense of being stronger. So in Crank, there is Kristina. Kristina is the perfect example of an all-American girl, or a naive virgin. Kristina is to say the least is gorgeous, lives in the nice suburbs in town, is a straight A student, who never does anything wrong. Nevertheless, Adam draws her in, and seems to steal Kristina’s sense of self. Kristina obeys every command that Adam sets out for her to complete, such as doing crank.

Sexual Longing That Exists Between The Two, Even If It’s Temporary:

            Although we picture vampires as being somewhat scary and creepy, they really are incredibly “alluring dangerous, [and] mysterious.” Or as Foster stated, “Sometimes [vampires are] downright sexy.” Kristina is weaker than Adam’s vampire like characteristics because of her lack of experience. Because she grew up in such a traditional and family centered household, Kristina feels the undeniable desire to “let loose”, and she falls victim to Adam. She also falls in love with Adam, giving him the gift of her virginity. The “unwholesome lust, seduction, [and] temptation” that was created in the novel, created a “danger” for Kristina. However, Foster also stated that “it’s also about other literal vampirism: selfishness, exploitation, and a refusal to respect the autonomy of other people.” Adam only seduces Kristina and turns her into her “bad” persona named Bree because he had the power. When Kristina leaves Albuquerque depressed from leaving her one-and-only, Adam walks away caring none about Kristina, seeking out his next victim, Giselle. 

After reading the opening ten chapters of How to Read Literature like a professor, I chose to discuss all the properties of a quest in perhaps one of the most famous quests of all time, The Odyssey.

While reading Chapter 3 Nice to Eat You: Act of a Vampire, all I could think about was Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. It is a book about a girl who moves in with her father in the small town of Forks, Washington and falls in love with a boy. Think this is a typical love story? Not at all. The boy she falls in love with is a vampire. And like all vampire stories, this book has three essentials:

§        Vampires

§        Seduction

§        Longing

Vampires

          Of course a story about vampires has vampires in it. In Twilight, the most well known vampire is Edward Cullen. He is loved and hated, even feared at times. Vampires are supposed to be scary. Edward and his family are the exceptions. But, there are scary vampires in the book named Victoria and James.

Seduction

           A vampire has to seduce its prey and to do that, being sexy plays a major role. Needless to say, Edward falls under that category. He has cold, pale, marble-like skin. Bella falls for him and his charm. He seduced her without even trying to. He tried to fight the urge but he finds that he has also fallen for her and her scent.

Longing

          This leads to the longing. Edward and Bella long to be with each other. But it isn’t safe for Bella, but she doesn’t care. Edward finally gives up trying to fight with her and they get together. They spend every minute they can together. However, there is a problem. They are completely different. She is a human, he is a vampire. She will grow old, he won’t. Unless of course, he changes her and she becomes a vampire as well. Edward refuses to do that. Yet, Bella longs for him to.

After reading the beginning of How to Read Literature Like a Professor I have decided to do my first post on the five aspects of a quest; a quester, a place to go, a reason to go there, challenges and trials, and the real reason to go in relating to the short story Araby.

Questor:  a young boy/teen who has fallen in love with Mangan’s sister

A place to go: Araby, a bazaar

A stated reason to go there: To buy something for Mangan’s sister and show her his love for her

Challenges and Trials: His uncle delays him, the train delays him, most all the shops are closed down by the time he gets there, a young woman flirting with two men only dutifully asks if he wants anything which embarrasses him, causing him to get nothing for Mangan’s sister

A real reason to go: The boy discovers more about the world and his own insignificance in it.  He discovers that he has been foolish in going to Araby to buy a girl who has given him no thought at all a gift for which she will not ever think of the trials or pains it took to get it for her.  He realizes that he is “driven and derided by vanity,” in that he believed getting something for her would win her affections while his entire quest ended up causing him ridicule and scorn.

After reading Chapter 10 of Thomas C. Foster’s book How to Read Literature Like a Professor I gained a new perspective on weather’s role in literature; as it is a symbol not just part of the plot.  Now that I had read Foster’s lecture I searched my brain for novels I had read where weather was used as a symbol.  I stumbled across one novel in particular that used weather as a symbol of the events occurring in the main characters life.  The novel was This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald.  The main character was Amory Blaine. 

            In the beginning of the book it follows Amory in his early teen years.  The event that occurs is Amory’s first kiss.  Fitzgerald places great emphasis on the weather devoting an entire paragraph to the weather’s description.

            “Overhead the sky was half crystalline, half misty, and the night around was chill and vibrant with rich tension.  From the Country Club steps the road stretched away, dark creases on the white blanket; huge heaps of snow lining the sides like the tracks of giant moles.  They lingered for a moment on the steps, and watched the white holiday moon.”

            Every story needs a setting but the devotion of a whole paragraph dedicated to the weather of the setting is a red flag to the weather’s importance in the event.  In this case the weather does not only dictate the plot but also in itself signifies the events that are occurring.  From the perspective of plot one could say the cold temperatures force Amory and his will be first kiss into a cozy parlor in front of a fire place.  This perspective still does not account for an entire paragraph about weather because it is understood that in the winter in Minnesota people do not liger outside for long.  So what does Fitzgerald really trying to express?  First, Fitzgerald describes the sky.  The sky represents the dates timeline as half of the date was already over it was crystallized solid and therefore could never be changed.  On the other hand half of the evening remained.  The future half is represented by the misty half of the night sky as the future of where the date will go is ambiguous.  Second, Fitzgerald foreshadows the future describing the white blanket of snow and the white moon.  White is a color synonymous with virginity and purity.  Just as the white blanket of snow had never been touched neither Amory nor his date had ever kissed. 

            Weather as shown above does not have to directly influence the plot of the story instead it can also foreshadow and symbolize events.  So the next time you are engrossed in a novel make sure you check the weather.       

Avenue Q:

            One of my favorite plays is Avenue Q, a satiric yet obscene comedy by Jeff Whitty that, in its own special way, comments on our life’s obsession with knowing the unknowable (as well as a few of our “other” social traits.  Since it’s a school website, I’ll let you imagine).  The play follows Princeton’s move into a low cost neighborhood, Avenue Q, whose superintendent, Gary Coleman (cast by a woman I might add), constantly breaks into politically incorrect song (songs like Everyone’s a Little Bit Racist Sometimes).  In the neighborhood resides a cast of colorful characters, who all face their own trials.  Unhappiness is a constant theme for all, however.  For some, the trial may be more personal and internal, and for others, the trial may be trying to build a school and fall in love.  Below, I have outlined the “aspects of [their] quest” in a manner pursuant to that of Thomas C. Foster in his book, How to Read Literature Like a Professor. 

The Questers:

            As I said before, several characters comprise the plot of Avenue Q.  The play’s true protagonist, Princeton, suffers from not knowing his “purpose,” while others suffer from a lack of love, money, or even internal acceptance.  For example, the couple of Brian, a balding, thirty-three year old failure, and Christmas Eve, a Japanese immigrant, face deep money problems.  Both went to college, and Christmas Eve, through hard work, even has two master degrees.  Nevertheless, life’s expenses plague them, and they thus live in poverty.  Kate Monster, a member of a different, “monster” race (this is important with the Everyone’s a Little Bit Racist song might I add) is a sufficiently smart, educated, and loveless twenty-something.  Life she lives alone, dedicating it to her draconic kindergarten boss (who even has the big wart on the nose – we all know that means she’s evil.  Her name’s Mrs. Thistletwat, by the way) but looking for love and/or companionship.  Nicky and Rob are both a bit older than the average resident of Avenue Q and financially manage okay. Their true problems (for both – it results with Nicky becoming homeless after pushing Rob to his limit on the issue) lie with Rob’s orientation.  While Nicky looks for a roof, Rob looks for himself.  Perhaps my favorite character is Gary Coleman, true-life child superstar turned pauper after his parents took all of his money and ran.  Probably the crudest of all the characters (which just might be a relative term), Gary is more of a catalyst than quester, but his actions bring about the events which shape and affect others.  I take back that crudest award and give it to the last character, Trekkie Monster.  Trekkie is based on Sesame Street’s Cookie Monster with one small difference: rather than being obsessed with cookies, he’s obsessed with porn.  This brings a bit of turbulence to the play which, in turn, shapes more events.  Overall, Trekkie’s role is mostly comedic, however. 

A Place to Go:

            Success is the “place” that the characters want to reach, though it is defined differently by all.  Kate defines success, for example, as finding a romantic and interesting love as well as building her “dream school,” the Monster-sorri School (for members of her “monster” race exclusively).  Princeton defines it as knowing his purpose, the reason for his existence.  Gary Coleman, sadly enough, defines it as finding more residents to live in Avenue Q, so he “doesn’t have to keep auctioning off his possessions on Ebay.”  Together, the cast marches down crowded, New York streets in search of success – some knowing what they’re looking for (aka, for Brian and Christmas Eve, employment) and others not. 

A Stated Reason to Go There:

For Princeton, finding success means finding himself and his purpose, while success for the other characters means finding something special to them.  (For what they want, please read above.  I really don’t want to retype what I’ve already said.  It is summer, you know.)  Some wanting employment and others love, they all walk down a metaphorical Yellow Brick road of life to find their goals and dreams and satisfy their ambitions. 

Challenges and Trials en route:

Oh no.  Did I mention that this is a Broadway play?  Do you really want me to list all of what went wrong en route?  Are you prepared to read that much, Mrs. Weygandt?   

Princeton, shortly after making the move to Avenue Q, develops a relationship with Kate Monster.  As time progresses, their relationship becomes more serious and eventually climaxes.  Following this, Kate and Princeton have a falling out, which leaves both in a state of emotional distress.  Princeton and Kate’s problems only get worse when Kate finds Princeton involved with the promiscuous “Lucy the Slut” (yes, I promise that really is the character’s name).  During this period, Princeton becomes verklempt and loses his job as a telemarketer because he’s “too depressing.”   However, with Lucy’s quick and unexpected demise (by Princeton’s “lucky penny” being dropped off the Empire State Building and tragically striking Lucy’s person) comes resolution for the protagonist. 

Several other characters also face dilemmas – one being Nicky, who, after angering his dear friend Rod, is kicked out of their apartment to become homeless.  Without food, shelter, and (temporarily) friends, Nicky faces problems that one might imagine would plague the homeless: hunger, etc.  However, after Princeton gives Nicky his money in a charitable act, Nicky realizes how great giving can be and consequently seeks something to make amends with his best friend/roommate (another smaller quest in itself).  

The Real Reason to Go There:

Well, finding your purpose isn’t as easy as you’d think, nor does it have a definite place.  Luckily Princeton found this out (relatively early).  In the last part of the play, Princeton sighs: “I guess I’ll never find my purpose.”  The rest of the cast agrees, remarking that no one really knows their purpose, but they go on anyway.  (Yes, I know this is getting tres mushy, and I’ll try to fix that.)  Princeton finally realizes that there is no master plan for him, and that he is going in the wrong direction to find one.  He also finds there are no signs for him to find his purpose (when he first declared he was finding his purpose, he found a penny from the year he was born…the same one that tragically killed Lucy…and interpreted it as a sign to continue on his quest of finding his life’s goal).  However, he realizes that what his true “purpose” is: helping others.  With that, the rest of the characters make this discovery, and they all change from their pessimistic, narcissistic ways to a happy, it’s-the-end-of-the-story glee, realizing that all the bad things are temporary (and some good things too, I might add.  For example, in the last song they say: “George Bush is only for now.  Winter is only for now.  Your hair is only for now, etc.”). 

These moods are for everyone, including Nicky and Rob; Princeton and Kate.  Nicky and Rob become roommates once more, and Princeton and Kate, brushing off their infidelity and arguments, walk into the metaphorical sunset a happy couple.  Everything is only for now. 

Seventeen years of being the coaches daughter

Every game she watched her father

Cheering him on and keeping fingers crossed

But one Friday night she was lost

Under the lights she felt different than ever before

She found herself crossing her fingers for something else

Victory was no longer her greatest desire

Her heart was in a different place that night

Her love and passion now belonged to another

The problem lay on which side he stood

The side against which she stood

On the far side stood the other team’s prince

Their fathers locked in battle

Destroyed her chance at love

So when the halftime buzzer sounded

She confounded in herself a plan

To meet the awesome man

Thus thieving her father’s playbook

And sneaking into the prince’s camp

She spotted her love

Then she confronted him with the playbook

He is repulsed by her deception

And orders her out of his sight

She returns to the stands

Playbook in hand

Cursing herself for the treachery of her father

And destroying her love

Starless nights.  Damp, stone castles.  Ornate, dusty coffins. Bats. Fangs. Blood. Damsels in distress.  These are all images we associate with the vampire story.  We think of a classic silent scream, a red-satin cape, and dark, crimson lips when we conjure vampire tale memories.  Vampires invoke fear in our hearts and formulas in our minds. Moving past associations and cliches, at the core of any good vampire driven plot there are always certain striking similarities, a common blueprint.  First, there’s Dracula, or a Dracula figure.  Dracula must be alluring, almost sensual.  He is able to pull those he meets into his circle, in spite of his dangerous composition—perhaps without any realization of danger.  Usually, there’s a virgin.  An innocent who, once acquired, makes Dracula stronger, more brutal, traditionally younger.  The vampire plot can be a simple one and is undeniably common.  But a vampire story doesn’t always mean a vampire—a fanged, blood-sucking, white-faced fiend—is involved.  The vampire story can take any form, as long as it fits the basic equation.  Let’s take a look at Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby.  Daisy Buchanan: stunning face; ringing, supernatural voice; beautiful, elegant ball gowns; mother; wife; hostess; object of desire.  So, The Great Gatsby, vampire plot, Daisy Buchanan, young, beautiful woman.  Daisy must be the damsel in distress right? Wrong.  She’s the vampire.  Perhaps it is unexpected, but Gatsby is a classic example of a vampire story.  You have Daisy.  She is beautiful, seductive—just like a traditional vampire.  She doesn’t suck blood from the necks of innocently weak virgins, but she does tend to generally hurt, crush, or suck the life out of those she meets—just like a traditional vampire.  Then there’s poor Mr. Gatsby, who was so taken in by Daisy and her way of life that he created his entire existence to please her.  Daisy stole Gatsby’s entire being.  Gatsby is the virgin; well, perhaps he isn’t exactly a spitting image of virginal morality with his continuous partying, spending, adultery, lying, and such, but still, Gatsby is the virgin.  He is weaker than his Dracula-like counterpart because of his lack of confidence—self-consciousness brought on by a “poor” upbringing in a poverty-stricken home.  His weakness goes way back to the days when he was a young, hopping Mr. Gatz.  In the end, the loss of life associated with Daisy does not make her stronger, or younger.  It actually doesn’t seem to affect her at all.  She simply goes on with her unsoiled life of beautiful parties, loveless marriages, and vain friendships.  Daisy doesn’t grow younger or more astonishing, but her path of death and destruction does make her little bubble of simulated perfection stronger.  So, The Great Gatsby is, ultimately, a vampire story.  Simple enough.  But Fitzgerald doesn’t stop there.  His vampire story doubles as an arresting commentary on America and the American Dream’s vampiresque actions.  Daisy is the vampire, but she represents a greater vampire—American society.  Gatsby is the innocent, but he represents a bigger innocent—the American.  Gatsby’s rise and fall is directly parallel to the rise and fall of countless Americans lured in by the vampire that is the American Dream.

If you know me, you know I like to eat.  No—I love to eat!  Therefore, it would be fitting for me to write about Chapter 2—Nice to Eat with You: Acts of Communion. I write first about a steamy supper scene from Ethan Frome.  And, just because I couldn’t leave out poor Edna Pontellier, I write briefly about a dinner party from The Awakening.

Steamy communion: Ethan Frome

For centuries, the word communion has had purely a religious meaning.  However, as Foster explains, communion refers to any time “people eat or drink together.”  And, as in Tom Jones by Henry Fielding, communion may have no religious connection at all.  Such is true of a dinner scene in Ethan Frome.  It is certainly not religious—if anything, sexual.  On the same day as Zeena’s departure to see her physician, Mattie fixes supper for Ethan.  Mattie’s choice of food—pickles, doughnuts, and stewed blueberries—is overtly sexual in nature.  Early nineteenth-century rules of decency, however, would never accept a written racy, adulterous sex scene involving Ethan and Mattie.  This explains why Wharton must convey their sexual desires via a dinner scene.  When you can’t “openly show sex as…sex,” how better to convey such sensuality than with an innocent evening meal?  Aside from the actual food, consider the dish with which Mattie served Ethan’s “favourite pickles.”  While Mattie could have chosen any dish in the kitchen, she chose to use one of Zeena’s most prized possessions—her red pickle dish, a dish which symbolized the Frome marriage.  Throughout the meal, the Frome’s house cat parades upon the table, slightly disrupting Mattie and Ethan’s dinner.  Representing Zeena’s absent but still looming presence, the cat knocks over the dish, which shatters as it hits the floor.  The shattered dish symbolizes the cracks in Zeena and Ethan’s married relationship; more importantly, though, it symbolizes the beginning of an implied, distant romance between Ethan and Mattie.  Even more impressive is Ethan’s reaction to the breaking of the glass.  Instead of getting mad, which is what the reader would expect him to do, Ethan calmly laughs and tries to calm Mattie.  After all, Ethan has little interest in Zeena’s reaction to the broken pickle dish—he has more important things to worry about.  Conveying a shortly disrupted, but immediately resolved “[peaceful]” dinner scene, Wharton circumvents “taboos” and social disapproval by portraying an adulterous scene as a calm, simple dinner.  To paraphrase Foster, Mattie wants to be with Ethan, Ethan wants to be with Mattie, let them share the experience.

Edna as an outcast: The Awakening

Not all meals are quite so sensual.  Take, for example, Edna’s dinner party held before she moves from her Esplanade Street residence to the pigeon house.  As Foster states, “One generally invites one’s friends to dinner…The act of taking food into our bodies is so personal that we really only want to do it with people we’re very comfortable with.”  When planning her Esplanade exit dinner, “the guests invited were few and were selected with discrimination.”  Edna’s dinner, a sort of last-ditch effort to squeeze herself into a mold that so clearly doesn’t fit, is an attempt to solidify a “community” of friends.  She has chosen her closest friends to attend this “grand affair.”  And, like all perfect dinners should, the evening goes remarkably well for those in attendance—except for Edna.  The “regal woman…the one who rules…one who stands alone” is unable to be a part of this merry affair.  This instance—one that exemplifies her inability to fit into a mold that society has deemed appropriate for her—only proves that she will forever remain an outsider, someone not accepted by society, someone who does not accept society.  While nine of the ten dinner guests take part in the “sharing and peace” and the “community” that Foster describes, Edna remains distant, hopeless, depressed.  Perhaps this example fits Foster’s alternative dinner menu:  “If a well-run meal or snack portends good things for community and understanding, then the failed meal stands as a bad sign.”

As Foster says and my examples prove, food is never just food.