R2D2

1. Discuss how the trauma that Art Speigelman's father experienced in the Holocaust trickled down into Art's life as the son of a Holocaust survivor.

Considering that Art's father beautifully fit the Jewish sterotype, it was no wonder that Art seemed to encompass the exact opposite of the stereotype. Art seems to have analyzed his father's ways and decided to never possess those traits for himself. As a result, he is nothing like his father and yet, somewhat similar. Both of them possess that same stubbornness and passion, but they direct towards different things. They both complain a lot, but about different things. Perhaps this could be said of most humans, but I am not sure. Both Art and his father maintain simple lives. Art lives a simple life, and he seems to value that because of his father's experiences. He is grateful for having food, a bed to sleep in, and a person to share his life with but not to the extreme his father does. I think that part of why Art chose to pursue a career in art was not just because of his father but because he saw how trivial material things are and how short life is so he decided to pursue what made him happy even if it didn't bring him that great of a paycheck.

Illustrations .vs. Text: Maus

1. Art Spiegelman has chosen to tell a very sad and serious story in a form that is not often associated with this kind of story telling (illustration). Do you think the use of illustration as opposed to just written text is an effective way of delivering this story? Why or why not?

 I think the illustrations provide a comic relief that would be unattainable to the reader if the book had been expressed purely with words. Had Spiegelman chosen to write this tale of his father's life in words, he wouldn't be able to control the images in our mind to the extent he does and the seemingly unbearable sadness that would trace every word. The illustrations and the horrific events balance each other out and Spiegelman from here is able to tip the scale to play with our emotions however he wants. It's brilliant, actually, but kind of scary.

Symbolism (And Other Pretty Things)

I wonder what I am supposed to whisper to myself before I go to sleep to make the voices go away.

“It's going to be okay,” I'll say, but I'm not so sure. I don't know what comforting quote to recite over and over again. It reminds me of the first couple lines of my memoir that I wrote a couple months ago.

“What’s the point? At the end of the day, I’m still under the covers clutching my polar bear sheets with supposedly iron fists but truth be told, I’m just a butterfly pinned to some pretty piece of paper in an overpriced glass case waiting for someone to set me free but that’s never going to happen and I’m still sitting here, smiling.”

No one interpreted it right. It reminds me of the rain droplets staining my window, their beauty the cause of the endless conjectures of symbolism.

“It's just rain,” I'll mutter to myself, turning to yet another TV screen for a way to block out reality.

But, every once in a while something like The Alchemist comes along and I'll wonder what if symbolism isn't just pretty bullshit but something real, something I can grip with my hands? What if symbolism isn't just another idea that gives people like me a thousand potential realities to contemplate? I wonder.