Eileen Tabios & English R1B Hitchhikes Across America
God Bless: Anyone who drove today to San Francisco. I’m pretty sure the Big Guy likes it when we carpool.
Feeling: Oy vey.
Holy mother of Moses! …I’m not sure exactly who that woman is, but times are getting heavy, and I’m pretty sure she’s thinking the same thing! I wish I just had more time to work, ya know? Oh well, life ain’t no Burger King—you can’t always have things your way.
I wanted to write a little addendum for last week’s post. :-X I didn’t exactly review American Son in the way I think everyone else did, so I’m just going to give that gem of a novel one thumbs up. It woulda’ been two, but Tomas shot the other one off for my milk money. :-(
Alright, let’s tackle some Eileen Tabios. I’d read her submissions to {m}aganda before…oh snap! Speaking of which:
{m}aganda magazine reception!
Come celebrate the publication of our next issue
choice.change.power
Saturday, May 7, 2005
4-8 pm Heller Lounge/Multicultural Center (in MLK)
Art.Live Performance.Food.Origami.YOU!
Woa okay where was I? This is what happens when you have a.d.d.
Alright, I was first introduced to Ms. Tabios’ work through her submissions to the magazine. I admit, I had no idea what was going on—what she was trying to explain, of if she was trying to say anything at all. But reading Leny Strobel’s essay made things slightly easier. Leny Strobel might as well write Eileen Tabios For Dummies. I thought Ms. Tabios had gone the way of Wacko Jacko and Anna Nicole Smith when she started to bring Greek sculpture into the picture, but upon reading her poems a second time I think I found more to appreciate. From Strobel’s essay I took the advice that Tabios’ prose poetry cannot be pinned down and analyzed. It is not meant to be solved. It is meant to be conversed with. I pour my own meanings into her poems and that is all that I can ask for. I see so much of the personal incorporated into her writing. When I read her poems I feel like I am reading protected postings on someone’s Xanga—like I’m violating the sanctity of someone’s diary, or that I’m barging in on a personal conversation. I don’t know what the significance is of using Greek art as a launching ground for her writing. I don’t know enough about decolonization, or colonization for that matter, to attempt voicing an opinion in that arena. I don’t know. I guess Tabios is just an acquired taste—something you’ll have to keep shoving down my throat until I start to like it.
I’ll post the pictures from today’s field trip on my Yahoo and get the link up for you guys asap. During the trip I didn’t really understand exactly how what we were seeing correlated with what we were learning in class. But now that I’ve had some time to think about it, I think I should just appreciate the fact that I was in the city Bulosan spent so much time in. Also, the people we met and the organizations we visited are working for the benefit of the people that we read about. The site of the I-Hotel is a graveyard for the footsteps where manongs gallivanted when they were young, and shuffled when they were old. In general, hearing about issues in the community, about things outside the Berkeley bubble, is always inspiring. High five for a good learning experience.
Feeling: Oy vey.
Holy mother of Moses! …I’m not sure exactly who that woman is, but times are getting heavy, and I’m pretty sure she’s thinking the same thing! I wish I just had more time to work, ya know? Oh well, life ain’t no Burger King—you can’t always have things your way.
I wanted to write a little addendum for last week’s post. :-X I didn’t exactly review American Son in the way I think everyone else did, so I’m just going to give that gem of a novel one thumbs up. It woulda’ been two, but Tomas shot the other one off for my milk money. :-(
Alright, let’s tackle some Eileen Tabios. I’d read her submissions to {m}aganda before…oh snap! Speaking of which:
{m}aganda magazine reception!
Come celebrate the publication of our next issue
choice.change.power
Saturday, May 7, 2005
4-8 pm Heller Lounge/Multicultural Center (in MLK)
Art.Live Performance.Food.Origami.YOU!
Woa okay where was I? This is what happens when you have a.d.d.
Alright, I was first introduced to Ms. Tabios’ work through her submissions to the magazine. I admit, I had no idea what was going on—what she was trying to explain, of if she was trying to say anything at all. But reading Leny Strobel’s essay made things slightly easier. Leny Strobel might as well write Eileen Tabios For Dummies. I thought Ms. Tabios had gone the way of Wacko Jacko and Anna Nicole Smith when she started to bring Greek sculpture into the picture, but upon reading her poems a second time I think I found more to appreciate. From Strobel’s essay I took the advice that Tabios’ prose poetry cannot be pinned down and analyzed. It is not meant to be solved. It is meant to be conversed with. I pour my own meanings into her poems and that is all that I can ask for. I see so much of the personal incorporated into her writing. When I read her poems I feel like I am reading protected postings on someone’s Xanga—like I’m violating the sanctity of someone’s diary, or that I’m barging in on a personal conversation. I don’t know what the significance is of using Greek art as a launching ground for her writing. I don’t know enough about decolonization, or colonization for that matter, to attempt voicing an opinion in that arena. I don’t know. I guess Tabios is just an acquired taste—something you’ll have to keep shoving down my throat until I start to like it.
I’ll post the pictures from today’s field trip on my Yahoo and get the link up for you guys asap. During the trip I didn’t really understand exactly how what we were seeing correlated with what we were learning in class. But now that I’ve had some time to think about it, I think I should just appreciate the fact that I was in the city Bulosan spent so much time in. Also, the people we met and the organizations we visited are working for the benefit of the people that we read about. The site of the I-Hotel is a graveyard for the footsteps where manongs gallivanted when they were young, and shuffled when they were old. In general, hearing about issues in the community, about things outside the Berkeley bubble, is always inspiring. High five for a good learning experience.
posted by The Kenneth @ 11:45 PM
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