In Search of Lost Time

The Evergreen State College

Author: torres#3 (Page 2 of 3)

MADELINE’S – MEMORY FIELD WORK 4-5 page DRAFT

May 3, 2015 /

 

In a slow pace she collects her crochet needles in her hand and pulls the different colored yarn through the whole of the octagon shaped organizer. She grabs for the Venetian red yarn holding a strand of it between her ring and index finger. The color brought me back to the seventh grade, sitting in the front office awaiting her arrival. When suddenly I hear the click-clack beat of stilettos on the tile floors leading to the office. From where I rested my head on the wall to the principle’s office and closed my eyes I could only imagine her fine posture held together in a form fitting black and white pinstriped pant-suit and the venetian red stilettos. The click-clack of her stilettos stopped and I opened my eyes to find her there both hands placed on her hips, her purse supported by the pit of her forearm. I couldn’t help but smile, at her confidence and at her simple beauty. “Come on baby, we have things to do” she held out her hand and I took it. I placed my fingers in between hers like I did when I was younger, to feel her firm grip but to play with her many rings. Her beautiful long finger delicately glides from the opening of the organizer and up to the tip of the red yarn. She attaches it to the needle beginning on another of her projects. I can’t help but wonder if she can make me a bag while she sits there. Not a word was said; there was only the silence around us. She clears her throat and the soft clicking of the crochet needles working away then grew audible. Finally she takes a deep breath; “ It was July 21st, 1979 I was fourteen years old and we were at the Liberation Day Parade and Carnival. My mom wanted me to find my sister Darlene, so my cousin Carmen came with me to find her. We were walking around the graveled carnival, passing the many booths and vendors. I think we might have passed by the same game booths before we found her, because the same girl as before was standing at the gambling booth while the attendant announced, ““Place your bets, place your bets, bets down! Hands off the counter! And the lucky color is red! Pay Red, pay red!” When I found Darlene she was not at the carnival in fact she was talking with some friends that she met on the CB. They were sitting in the bed of their dad’s truck. She introduced me to Joe (my husband), his brother Tom and their two friends. Politely, I greeted the four of them and went on my way. The next day Joe came over with his friends to talk to my sister Darlene. He wanted to see me again so he made some lame excuse to my sister to get me out of the house. She called into the house for me to come say hi; which exactly is what I did. I came out said, “Hi, “and ran back inside. Now that I think of it, he might have been into me but I had other options going on at the time. A week later on the 29th of July, Governor Paul Calvo was having a fiesta at Ypao beach for his birthday. The way this man partied was unbelievable. It wasn’t exclusive; in fact it was open for everyone and I kid you not the entire island was there. When we arrived at the party, the parking lot was already filled up with cars. A lot of the guests were already parking outside of the lot leading up to the facility on the beach. My sister Doll was driving and signaled to the rest of the cars that followed us to park next to the big coconut tree that surprisingly had enough room for all of us to park together. The minute we got out of the car, I could feel his eyes already on me. It wasn’t in a creepy way, but I knew he wanted to talk to me. So I slunk back to where he was away from the group we even walked around the party together. Our conversation was normal, it was as if we were on our first date by all the questions we had for one another. At one point he asked me if I would walk with him along the beach. I didn’t see why not so I followed him. The sun had already gone down when he asked to hold my hand, just in case there was something ahead that might make me trip or as if he thought I was afraid of the dark. Regardless that I wasn’t scared of the dark, I held his hand anyways. We wondered into a cavern on our adventure on the beach but that was when the memory of us get’s a little fuzzy but I do remember him saying, “Once I’m in a relationship I’m in it all the way” he wanted to know if I wanted to go out with him and I thought he was cute, so I said yes and we shared our first kiss. That following Monday he walked to my house after he got off at summer school. At the time my family had a five-gallon aquarium, and my task was to clean it. He helped me clean it; he liked to do things like that with me. From that point forward he was at my house every day, night and after we got out of school. We attended two different schools (especially since he’s three years older than me) so around the time I got off the bus; he would call to make sure I got off the bus okay to assure my safety. I found it charming and sweet of him.

I remember baking a cake for him on his eighteenth birthday. We celebrated at my parent’s house. That was when he told me that he never had a birthday cake before because his family couldn’t afford it, and that made me sad because I couldn’t empathize to him.

My husband joined the Military after his nineteenth birthday. He went over seas to Germany for basic training and I was only in the eleventh grade. We talked a lot over the phone while he was over there it built up a large amount on the phone bill, but Joe would send money for the bill. After a while, the phone calls didn’t come as much and I got tired of waiting on him, especially since I was in high school and was being asked out being in a relationship with him was holding me back. So we broke up.   He came back on Valentines Day two years later. I only knew he was back because I overheard my little brother Raymond talking to my mom that, “Joe called! Did you tell Mary Lou?” I freaked out, “What do you mean Joseph called is he here?” I darted for the landline and dialed his house number. When he answered I yelled at him for not calling me when he landed. “You better get to my house by five o’clock. If you don’t, don’t bother ever coming over!” He didn’t come over by five, he actually came over at eight. I figure now that he probably was trying to spend some time with his parents and siblings before he came over. I didn’t shun him away though, we actually talked and got back together that night. He was to leave for Fort Lewis, Washington shortly after we started dating and that was the day when he came over to my sister’s apartment. While they were inside he asked me if he could marry me. After he left for Washington I was thinking that we would get marry in a couple years. Then November came, and he calls me. He told me that his parents were going to fa’mai sen saina (to ask my hand in marriage) But in the mean time, Joe called my house and talked to my dad over the phone for his blessing and permission to marry me. When ended up getting married a month later on December 17th, 1983. We Left Guam ten days later after we got married to our first duty station in Fort Lewis Army Post in Washington State.

Washington was a entire new experience for me, I’ve never lived anywhere else but Guam. I especially didn’t know about sales tax in the states, but I needed to buy snow boots. I found a pair of boots at the PX. The boots price were $19.99 and I had a twenty dollar bill. The lady was expecting me to give her two dollars and some cents more. “No I get a penny back, I have a twenty.” The lady looked at me and said, “But sales tax.” “Oh, well we don’t have sales tax in Guam.” Then she started explaining what it was and I came back later that day with the rest of the money for the boots. You see I didn’t do much when we moved to Washington. All I did was stay at home and wait for my husband to get home. One day when I was doing the dishes, I saw my neighbor walking by and she noticed me too. She stopped and chatted with me. She was telling me that she was going to the Paperback Exchange and if I would like to go with her. I didn’t have anything else to do and jumped on the opportunity, The Thorn Birds by Colleen McCullough was the book I bought. Late one night when Joe was out working. He was driving the Colonel to the airport. I was sitting in the dark of our living room looking out the curtain waiting for him to return; because there wasn’t anything else I could do we had no television or radio. When he came home, he saw how sad that I was because I wasn’t use to being by myself. I’ve always had my siblings with me. The next day we bought our first television and rented furniture.

 

 

 

 

Paigerenee’s Close Reading- (Stacy’s Seminar) VOL III: The Guermantes Way pages: 1-32

May 3, 2015 /

In the first pages of the third volume The Guermantes Way, the character Francoise was introduced as being unhappy and depressed after the family moved into a new home, to me it seems as if she misses her title (or I guess I think it was her Seniority and respect among the rest of the staff, She was actually treated like apart of the family) that she had in the old home in Combray too much. The narrator would seem as if he had no problem leaving because it was easy for him to leave the old and also laughed at her with ridicule because he felt that she was being too sensitive about the situation. But the two characters shared this sensitivity after the concierge didn’t give Francoise the respect she thought she deserved and after the narrator’s young footman made him feel the same way he goes to her, probably for sympathy but she wasn’t interested in what he had to say. The narrator then writes, “The alleged ‘sensitivity’ of neurotic people is matched by their egotism; they cannot abide the flaunting by others of the sufferings to which they pay an ever increasing attention in themselves.” I think Proust is saying that, what anxious people take sensitively is what they think of themselves, which is why they can’t stand when others flaunt that fact around. When they were already thinking about it themself. When Francoise looked in the other direction while the narrator suffered and vice-versa (when he tried to speak to her about their new house.) I felt that this encounter between the two was significant because in the proceeding pages there are instances where the reoccurring theme of Identity, but Identity through job and feminine titles. Like from pages 21 and 22, ‘“I meant to talk to their butler about it…What is it now they call him?” She broke off as though putting to herself a question of protocol, which she went on to answer with: ‘ Oh, of course, it’s Antoine they call him!’ as though Antoine had been a title. ‘He’s the one could tell me, but he’s quite the gentleman, he is, a great pedant, you’d think they’d cut his tongue out, or that he’d forgotten to learn to speak. He makes no reply when you talk to him,’”(Proust, 21) This is Francoise that said this and it makes me want to recall a time in the past book where she is referred to the title of her job. From my memory she is only called by her name and when she refers to Antonine “as though Antonine had been a title” I think she does this on purpose because she sees this person as a person and not just by his job. She places her views that a person with or with out the title of a “footman” or perhaps a “maid” is still a “footman” or a “maid” but simply identifying them with their real name conveys a sense of humanity and respect for that individual. On the following page, after Francoise talks about how the Duchess is address by her feminine name at the Guermantes Castle, but says its interesting to her that it’s the Duchess who is the Mayoress of those parts and I feel that its implied because it’s not the Duchess who is the mayor, it is only because of her husbands title that she acquires the name, there are those who actually work hard for their title and when individuals who do (such as Francoise, Antoine etc.) they deserves to be identified properly. Rather than those like the Duchess who doesn’t have to do anything. I find this theme of Identity through titles and names corolates with the narrators theme of iden

 

 

 

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Journal Entry #14:

May 3, 2015 /

From the past seminar, Stacy’s seminar group was talking about the female roles in the novel. Starting from Swan’s way and continuing into Within A Budding Grove this role has stayed the same which is, the power the women have over the men in the book. When we were in seminar on Thursday, someone was talking about Albertin’s character. She is identified as different from the other women that the narrator comes across and its because he actually has real feelings for her. But when this discussion happened, it reminded me of a quote from earlier on in the book when Mme. Swan said, “You can do anything with men when they’re in love with you they’re such idiots!” I feel that she uses her gender (a women being non-intellectual, fragile) and the naiveté of a woman to her advantage so men can think she’s dumb when in fact she’s not. It kinda reminds me of a Black Widow. I’m not sure if this applies to the rest of the female characters but it defiantly adds onto the power   dynamic of the women in the novel.

Journal Entry #13:

May 3, 2015 /

“Those years of my earlier childhood are no longer a part of myself; they are external to me; I can learn nothing of them save—as we learn things that happened before we were born—from the accounts given me by other people.” (Proust, V. 3, 6)  The most common age to be able to remember is the age of four. It’s unlikely for a lot of people to be able to recall before the age of four. But in Proust’s case and from my own experience he’s saying he can not recall his earlier childhood memories only from what people have told him.  I thought I remembered going to preschool (at maybe 3 years old) and I remember a tall (for a three year old) caucasian boy with light brown hair and he called himself Tiger. But when i would ask my mom (because she has a great memory and can remember to that age for herself) she can not think of a kid with that description that even went to preschool with me. So automatically I think that maybe I made this boy up or it was a different time of my life because my mom says so.

Journal Entry #12:

April 29, 2015 /

*Interpretation of information, in class a classmate brought up their opinion on it how the narrator/ author of the piece will share information with the reader but that person who created the piece isn’t just giving us the facts but their opinion on the subject too whether that it’s intentional or not. And I couldn’t help but agree because like the quote says there is always two sides to a story. When i think of an example for this I think of how history is set up for us from children to adults, I remember learning about Christopher Columbus. Our young history books encouraged us to celebrate the holiday because “with out Christopher Columbus North America wouldn’t have been discovered.” Way down the line a young adult I find out that Christopher Columbus did come to South America, traveled the lands and came up to North America. But they so happened to leave out that the Spanish took over the land, impregnated women, forced their religion on them. And the fact that there has been more than just Christopher Columbus who has traveled to North America. I get the fact for discretion for children but because of a historian who decided to teach children about this subject and with out consent to the reader (in this case intentionally for the young audience, but then those kids are not given the entirety of the story and can like me grow up think one thing and one day realize, I was celebrating a massacre ( you know.)

Journal Entry #11:

April 26, 2015 /

“Perhaps they are inseparable from love; perhaps everything that formed a distinctive feature of our first love comes to attach itself to those that follow, by virtue of recollection, suggestion, habit , and, through the successive periods of our life, gives to its different aspects a general character.” ( (Proust, 562)

I think this passage is saying you either gain or lose from love and from either of these outcomes you bring what you have learned into your future relationship and it forms a general look/ character of the type of love you want/ are looking for in a lover/ relationship. I guess this coincides with my last journal entry, the aspect of learning from your mistakes to ensure your future.

This makes me wonder about the similarities between the narrator and the last volume we read “Swans Way.” A lot of people in seminar were saying that the narrator and Swan have the same obsessive personalities. Like on page 560, “…I failed to catch a glimpse of them, not knowing the cause of their absence I sought to discover whether it was something fixed and regular, if they were to be seen only every other day, or in certain kinds of weather, or if there were days on which they were not to be seen at all. I imagined myself already friends with them, and saying: ‘But you weren’t there the other day?” “Weren’t we? Oh no of course not; it was a Saturday. On Saturdays we don’t ever come because…’ If only it were simply a matter of knowing that on a black Saturday it was useless to torment oneself.” The narrator and Swann both like to create scenarios to freak themselves out and i find it quite amusing, yet its such torture for the character. I also  see other comparisons between the characters and it makes me wonder, if this aspect of learning from our past will follow through and give the narrator what he wants.

Journal #10:

April 26, 2015 /

“For just as it is not the desire to become famous but the habit of being industrious that enables us to produce a finished work; so it is not the activity of the present moment but wise reflexions from the past that help us to safeguard the future.” (Proust, 538)

—-I think Proust is saying that, our passion for doing what we do is what drives us, not the fame for it. And the trials or tribulations of the journey into securing a life that we want is what we reflect and learn from, so we don’t make the same mistakes.

—-I think, could someone let me know if I’m on the right track with this thought?? lol

Journal #9

April 19, 2015 /

It was a challenge when i first started interviewing my mom, because she answered very vaguley. She would say something like, “my mother’s name is______ and this happened_____but you remember that don’t you.” There were several times where I had to remind her to talk to me as if the newspaper was doing a segment on her and I was this stranger who needed to know every detail. So as she got in the habit of reminding herself the interview went even smoother. While she shared things such as, her earliest memories with her siblings and even the history of our family. I couldn’t help but try to relate her the memories that she shared. Like when she was talking about how growing up she was really close with her older sister Carol and how she went everywhere with her and had cute “inside jokes,” that they’re pretty much best friends. I couldn’t help but think about my oldest sister and my relationship, that it’s the same as theirs. Another time she shared about when she went on her first date with my dad. She wasn’t never so upfront about how old she was when she met my dad and about my dad’s past and when she told me that they walked on the beach and that their first kiss was in a cavern. I just got such a better understanding of their love and how it started and it made me appreciate my parents more.

Journal Entry #8: Deep Memory

April 19, 2015 /

(Something in my past that helps me understand why I chose this project)

Growing up there were so many memories of me and my mom. We’ve always been such good friends. We do everything together. At first it started off as just normal mother and child things like, going to the store, picking up the laundry, dropping my sibblings off at school and picking them up. But then it grew into her bringing me to work with her and going to PTA meetings with her. After we moved from Louisiana I feel like our friendship strengthened, staying home on the weekends having craft nights, movie nights. My friendship with my mom started to dwindle when I graduated high school. Everything that i built with her started crumbling down around me so fastly, especially her respect and trust for me went out the window.

But the memory that stands out the most for me that made me decide to write my project about her is the moment I realized how much I took her for granted after everything she has sacrificed and done for me. This memory didn’t happen not too long ago, actually 19 months and five days ago:

 

A nurse walks over, wrapping him in an itchy hospital baby blanket. Even though my body’s still shacking my eyes could not be more still, just staring at this beautiful baby boy who I just brought into the world. I remember the nurse asking me if i wanted to nurse him and instinctively I pull down on my gown. The moment my breast flopped down I watched his little body crawl across my chest searching for the nipple and the minute he latched on I felt this deep sense of pride.  I glanced over at my mom who stood only a few feet away from me and she was looking at me with this nostalgic, peaceful serene look. It made me feel good that, for the first time in a long time she was proud of me. I have not want to do anything but make my parents proud, especially my mom what she thinks of me means the world and that’s how i knew i wanted to do my project on my mom.

 

Journal Entry #7

April 16, 2015 /

Obsession is love. Love torments you from all levels of joy, sadnes and hate. In fact, Obsession is one of the underlining themes through out the the story of Swann in Love.  It shows the reader how feelings can start from nothing, to disgust and some how can blossom into love. Love, like how beauty is explained in the novel is interpreted and felt in many different ways. Swann and Odette’s  love/relationship is at one point represented through a chrysanthemum. I found it ironic that in Japan a chrysanthemum is symbolic for  the sun, the unfolding of the flower petals represent perfection, and Confucius once suggested they be used as an object of meditation.  It’s ironic to me, because i didn’t feel that Odette and Swann’s love was genuine. It was definitely configured through out the story, but based on superficiality and class. Eventually Swann does catch  real feelings for Odette, and thats when the torture begins because the two are playing this game. I feel like this game is relatable to an extent with my current life.

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