<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604</id><updated>2012-02-05T17:34:13.268-08:00</updated><category term='perception'/><category term='philosophical'/><category term='I have to say thatt the letters were vary confust'/><category term='Flaubert&apos;s Parrot 2'/><category term='Flaubert&apos;s Parrot'/><category term='Jane Eyre'/><category term='pages 9-138'/><category term='The Hours'/><category term='Flaubert&apos;s Parrot 3'/><category term='life of jane eyre'/><category term='brazil'/><category term='Madame Bovary'/><title type='text'>Lav-Dawg's AP Lit Class Blog</title><subtitle type='html'>Welcome!  This blog has been created as a place to post your own Reading Log responses and to review and comment upon others' posts.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>David Lavender</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_B3BXuaNCMs8/SLrPPDpn0nI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/89pGMVwNbHc/S220/DSCN0397.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>626</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-2322472610152131763</id><published>2009-03-15T15:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T15:26:36.804-07:00</updated><title type='text'>last one I promise...</title><content type='html'>ok... the hours. I know rewind, right? but yeah so I think the hours was a pretty chill book. I don't really feel like there was much I could get out of it. the one thing worth while was the style it was written ("an ordinary mind in an ordinary day") but the plot wasn't to astonishing nor the characters. Just typical people which is the obvious goal of the author. But yeah nothing too special. I wish I could say it was jaw dropping. but I do like the perspective the author gives on life a death and all the simplicities and complexities that lie between. so I appreciated it for the most part. but couldn't something cooler happen on this ordinary day... nothing. she bought flowers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-2322472610152131763?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/2322472610152131763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=2322472610152131763' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2322472610152131763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2322472610152131763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/last-one-i-promise.html' title='last one I promise...'/><author><name>shanna mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10359244338806226818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-8442347357758339899</id><published>2009-03-15T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T13:05:25.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>House of the Seven... what?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P-6IKOVyiYE/Sb1bTv1XtuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SShfZWILdmY/s1600-h/gable.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313503530183014114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 297px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 311px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P-6IKOVyiYE/Sb1bTv1XtuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SShfZWILdmY/s320/gable.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;          I think that I should get an "A" for being the first studen tin the history of this blogto use a picture in their post. Automatic extra credit. But yeah when I picked this book out I didn't know what a gable was. But yeah I know now... took me a while. It's a good thing that it wasn't a very critical part in the book beause I probably would have missed the whole main idea. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;          But moving on the book is simply a disappointment not because the actually book was bad but the fact companieslike Disney and Pixar did their best to ruin it for us all. I knew I recognized the plot once they began describiing the house with human characteristics. Sound familiar??? Of course it does. But it is still an awesome story and I recommend it to anyone looking for an awesome story that is a fairly easy to read. Have fun team...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-8442347357758339899?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/8442347357758339899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=8442347357758339899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8442347357758339899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8442347357758339899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/house-of-seven-what.html' title='House of the Seven... what?'/><author><name>shanna mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10359244338806226818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P-6IKOVyiYE/Sb1bTv1XtuI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SShfZWILdmY/s72-c/gable.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-3081969700164500654</id><published>2009-03-05T23:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T23:40:07.168-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Insanity is a sandwich sign hung on the shoulders of people who refuse to adhere to society. I will not discount the people whose brain fails to see the message the way that their optic nerve received it, like a horrible game of telephone. There are real crazy people in the world, but I can’t help but to come to the conclusion that Shakespeare either did not believe in insanity or he really found the root of craziness in those who society has deemed sane. I think that the illustrations of both Hamlet and Ophelia are very much parallel. Both have lost a father and both have lost trust in someone that they had previously held very dear to them. Although Hamlet’s soliloquies and Ophelia’s singing seem a bit pathetic and overdone, this is a drama and humans can only function with a certain number of feet on the ground; when the two characters are leveled, their feet swept out from under them, there is not much keeping the bleak horizon from closing in. For both characters, this condition is not their fault. Hamlet’s father is killed by his mother and uncle and he is enlightened of the occurrence through his father’s ghost. Ophelia’s father is stabbed to death by the man she thought was the love of her life. Both are betrayed by other people, and I think that this desolate existence is what Shakespeare was trying to depict. Not only do I think it pertains to the two lovers, but I think that it is the way that Shakespeare sees the human condition. In some ways, death is not the greatest agony, sometimes life is. Hamlet and Ophelia, undermined by the wickedness of humankind, are turned to face death as a way to be “shuffled off this mortal coil”. We complain and suffer at the hands of other humans, and even insanity can be attributed to the incompetence, ruthlessness, and greediness of people around us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-3081969700164500654?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/3081969700164500654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=3081969700164500654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3081969700164500654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3081969700164500654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/insanity-is-sandwich-sign-hung-on_05.html' title=''/><author><name>HannahSmith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11936181026700885564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-261081223520848321</id><published>2009-03-05T23:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T23:39:39.685-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Shakespeare is a crowd pleaser. If he lived today, he would be rocking the mushroom pants, the puffy sleeves and the ruffled shirts down the red carpet. He would not be the guy making the boring documentaries or the trashy reality television shows, he would be the writing the screenplays that are making millions of dollars at the box office. He never fails to tell a story that keeps you on the edge of your seat. Incest, death, violence, lust, love, lunacy, suicide, anger, and execution… what more could he have possibly packed in there? The story is still alive. But the fact that this is the where the English language comes from baffles me.  How we got from there to here seems like the jump from Neanderthal to Homo Sapien- or maybe the backwards jump- but I feel like somewhere in there has to be the missing link.  Shakespeare writes in a foreign time period where people spoke the way the he wrote.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-261081223520848321?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/261081223520848321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=261081223520848321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/261081223520848321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/261081223520848321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/shakespeare-is-crowd-pleaser.html' title=''/><author><name>HannahSmith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11936181026700885564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-7057157749651362209</id><published>2009-03-04T08:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T08:23:22.203-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ending it with Blood</title><content type='html'>This book, personally, was quite interesting.  Sex, murder, and suicide took place in practically everyone of the scenes.  I'm still trying to decide if Hamlet was absolutly crazy though.  When looking back to when it all started, I honestly think it was all an act but I kind of want to hear what everyone else thinks...so post those comments!!&lt;br /&gt;Good Book...Crappy Movie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-7057157749651362209?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/7057157749651362209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=7057157749651362209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7057157749651362209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7057157749651362209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/ending-it-with-blood.html' title='Ending it with Blood'/><author><name>Christian Johnston</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14526449634829337641</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-4214633385821950603</id><published>2009-03-03T17:02:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T17:37:52.711-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pretending</title><content type='html'>There is a lot of pretending going on in this play. Hamlet acting mad, tha actors acting out the murder, the king acting innocent, and so on. Shakespeare is trying to represent all of the acting that goes on in real life, people pretending to be who they really aren't just to conform into the society they live in. Shakespeare doesn't believe in this. First of all, all of the fake characters end up dead. Horatio who has been true doesn't die. We see that even if short gains are made by covering oneself up it isn't worth in the end. Also, most conspicuous is Polonius message to Laretes "be true to thine ownself". A prominent theme that Shakespeare reinforces throughout the play. The question Hamlet askx, "To be or not to be" is a question that each of must answer everyday. all of the characters face this question and some chosae truth and some chose false. &lt;br /&gt;Additionally, I think the use of actors in the play make the play seem more real to the audience. It connects them with the characters because they can say, hey, thery're watching a play just like I am, this could happen in my life. Because Shakespeare makes his play seem more realistic to the viewers, his themes resonate all the stronger. We can see a little bits of ourselves in each of the characters and that causes us to reevalueate them and ourselves. However, he also uses royalty to paint a more intense drama and keep a little separation between entertainment and real life. I liked this play because of the drama and action portrayed by conflict between the true and fake characters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-4214633385821950603?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/4214633385821950603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=4214633385821950603' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4214633385821950603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4214633385821950603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/pretending.html' title='Pretending'/><author><name>vicmaj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16286588906061132313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-5354638782738420035</id><published>2009-03-03T14:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T14:10:31.358-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inevitable Death</title><content type='html'>To me it seems that a large part of Hamlet's meaning lies in the inevitablity of death. Hamlet explores this when questioned about the whereabouts of Polonius's corpse 4.3.21-28. As well as in the scene where he comes across the gravediggers, and comes to face the skull of the old jester. I think that this inevitablity is also where a large part of the purpose in killing almost all of the characters at the end is. At the end all the characters regardless of political standing, effort, or gender all die. Characters that labored away to achieve high reaching goals, regardless of how hard they struggle die. Claudius works to become the king, Hamlet &amp;amp; Laertes to avenge their fathers' murders, etc. All of them die. They are all equalized and become food for the worms and maggots. The amount of effort they put into life, the stature they achieved, etc. nothing can prevent their death. All men are equal before the reaper's scythe. I think that this is one of the most important central themes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-5354638782738420035?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/5354638782738420035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=5354638782738420035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5354638782738420035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5354638782738420035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/inevitable-death.html' title='Inevitable Death'/><author><name>Rabidwolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16153613767396312218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JcGnkTf692o/SNh_gzeTIsI/AAAAAAAAABE/4BXcjeDJGtg/S220/ichigohollow.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-1043899323046019744</id><published>2009-03-03T12:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T12:12:00.309-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ok, for real this time; Death</title><content type='html'>one of the views that we see on death, is that death is the great equalizer of all time.  Like Hamlet says in the scene where he is watching the gravedigger sing while he works, he says that the skull that the gravedigger tosses out of the grave might have been a very wealthy, very prominent man, and now they are being tossed around as if the gravedigger were playing "loggets" (5,1,94) with them.  Another way that he puts it, is that one of the skulls he throws out, might have been able to sing when it was living, is dashed to the ground as if " 'twere Cain's jawbone" (5,1,79).  It's seen, then, that it doesn't matter where you are in the social status, you will end up the same as the most benevolent king, even it you are the poorest, dirtiest peasant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-1043899323046019744?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/1043899323046019744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=1043899323046019744' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1043899323046019744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1043899323046019744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/ok-for-real-this-time-death.html' title='ok, for real this time; Death'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00913062084993413365</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sxPMoWHi7VE/S13JadstHBI/AAAAAAAAAAc/dGsZ7mo42bM/S220/Hitachin+brothers.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-4834649101067584342</id><published>2009-03-03T11:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T07:19:44.748-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stayed is The Hand...</title><content type='html'>through out Hamlet there is hesitation and its counter rash action. Too little tought leads to, acording to shakespeare to, tragedy and heated revenge but, too much tought stays the hand and leaves one's plan gone to waste. Hamlet demonstrates the worst of both worlds he wounds his "brother" and "kills" Ophelia with a rash choice but leaves him, his mother and others slain through his lack of action and too much thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-4834649101067584342?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/4834649101067584342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=4834649101067584342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4834649101067584342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4834649101067584342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/stayed-is-hand.html' title='Stayed is The Hand...'/><author><name>CB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02051967083979863955</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-9112105384433451411</id><published>2009-03-03T10:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T11:16:09.557-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Death from Above</title><content type='html'>As many would agree with me, this play seems to revolve around the idea of death, in many different ways. There is death from suicide, assination, manslaughter, and just mere bad luck leading to death. I can understand, from Shakespeare time, that death was a very prevalent. There was the plague, which happend to kill almost a third of the population in Europe alone. Then there were public hangings and decapatations, random duels leading one dead, and one mostlikely stabbed or hacked. Also, after Polonius' death Hamlet states the cycle of life, and how a begger may end up eating a king, by having the king burried where he is decomposing and worms start to eat the king. The worm is then picked and used for fishing bait, where the fish eats the worm, and the fish is then stolen from a stand by a begger, who is unknowingly eating the once alive King. All in all, when I was first informed that we were going to read Hamlet, I was not looking forward to it, but I enjoyed the play thoroughly even with all the death in it. I'm sure if i grew up in those times, I would have more prevalently found myself thinking of death, or I would be more acceptable of death.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-9112105384433451411?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/9112105384433451411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=9112105384433451411' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/9112105384433451411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/9112105384433451411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/death-from-above.html' title='Death from Above'/><author><name>t brod</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933009334555181169</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-264100999333880682</id><published>2009-03-03T10:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T11:27:06.838-08:00</updated><title type='text'>shakespears to be or not to be.</title><content type='html'>its funny to read others talk about why hamlet hesitated to kill the king, and of what becomes of the rest of the characters because of that hesitation, what role does fate play in the play? :) these are all questions that Shakespear had to answer and consider when writting his tragedy. the tradgedy part pretty much answers the questions its self. shakespear chose &lt;strong&gt;not to be&lt;/strong&gt; for his characters, the beauty of the play is the development of the plot, the time line in which the story unfolds and the situations Shakespear creats to allow his characters &lt;strong&gt;to be&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-264100999333880682?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/264100999333880682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=264100999333880682' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/264100999333880682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/264100999333880682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/shakespears-to-be-or-not-to-be.html' title='shakespears to be or not to be.'/><author><name>Bl0gMST3RFL3xXx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08282061157804059720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-671780304896729460</id><published>2009-03-03T10:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T11:11:51.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'>oh Hamlet</title><content type='html'>facebook... ha ha never. this is way better than facebook. the only problem is no chat... ha ha. but moving on. I think that Hamlet is a really pathetic guy. honestly. you see this same type of drama on Jerry Springer. (not to this extreme) but non the least they have weird family issues that usually involve murder and incest. so I think he over reacted for sure. and too be honest I'm glad he died. it was like karma. that's what you get for trying to kill other people, one day you have to die yourself. and I think Ophelia croaking over, was also payback for hamlet's over reaction. He needed to chill out and understand that it's hard to lose your dad. and especially when your uncle is the one that kills him. but he could have acted a little bit more mature like. talked to him about it, have him admit it, then kill him. but you don't have to do all this crazy manipulation because then neither win. and that is made evident when they both die at the end along with hamlet's mom and true love frined and foe. what wieners.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-671780304896729460?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/671780304896729460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=671780304896729460' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/671780304896729460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/671780304896729460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/oh-hamlet.html' title='oh Hamlet'/><author><name>shanna mae</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10359244338806226818</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-579085112693074971</id><published>2009-03-03T10:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T11:20:11.145-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Death, Love, Betrayal and Horrid Facial Hair</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;This play is most definitely ranked higher in my book of books than any other novel we have read in this class, sorry Lavender. There was a lot more action and a lot more drama to keep me completely entertained.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Love"&lt;br /&gt;The romance in this novel is not as important of a part as the other themes, however it is present. The only true romance is between Ophelia and Hamlet, the feelings between the King and Queen are fake and disgusting. Ophelia and Hamlet do truly love each other, however, his act at being insane ruins their relationship. There is love between the family members but it is a different kind of love obviously. Hamlet loved his father and that is what drives him to end the life of his father's killer. Laertes loved his father and sister and that is what pushed him to want to destroy Hamlet. The family bonds are very strong in this novel and I admire that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Betrayal"&lt;br /&gt;The family bonds are strong, however, Claudius is an exception to that. He put power ahead of the love for his brother and nephew. After betraying his brother by poisoning him and stealing his thrown, he attempts to murder his suspicious nephew, Hamlet. I hate Claudius for everything he put his family through. I blame everything on him. Had he not murdered his brother, Hamlet would not have pretended to be crazy and drive Ophelia to suicide. Polonius wouldn't have been hiding from Hamlet and wouldn't have been slain. All of these peoples deaths can resort back to Claudius' mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Death"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Shakespeare seems to always have the main character die, he thoroughly enjoys it I am convinced. I do think that all of these deaths were necessary though. It adds onto the betrayal idea. The consequences of betrayal and murder are proven to be extreme at times.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-579085112693074971?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/579085112693074971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=579085112693074971' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/579085112693074971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/579085112693074971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/death-love-betrayal-and-horrid-facial.html' title='Death, Love, Betrayal and Horrid Facial Hair'/><author><name>Katie Mallard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10638328526380005227</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-7177629473363561727</id><published>2009-03-03T10:49:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T10:54:01.299-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Death</title><content type='html'>deathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathd&lt;br /&gt;eathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathde&lt;br /&gt;athdeathisprevelentinHamletyadeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdea&lt;br /&gt;thdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeat&lt;br /&gt;hdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeath&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.... nead i say more?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-7177629473363561727?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/7177629473363561727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=7177629473363561727' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7177629473363561727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7177629473363561727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/death_03.html' title='Death'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00913062084993413365</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sxPMoWHi7VE/S13JadstHBI/AAAAAAAAAAc/dGsZ7mo42bM/S220/Hitachin+brothers.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-3800984952259650976</id><published>2009-03-03T10:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T10:49:29.298-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-3800984952259650976?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/3800984952259650976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=3800984952259650976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3800984952259650976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3800984952259650976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/blog-post_03.html' title=''/><author><name>Katie Mallard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10638328526380005227</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-3409095908248517476</id><published>2009-03-03T10:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T10:15:35.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>???</title><content type='html'>throughout the play hamlet is found thinking about what to do more than actually doing something, i think he could have been more decisive. But i do see why its not like that, it keeps your mind racing and it keeps you reading. I was very satisfied with the whole play, especially the ending, i love how its not like everything else that ends all happy. The ending is brutual and amazing, its so cool how eveyone just gets poisoned and dies. It could have had a little more action, but it was good. I love how sick and twisted this play is, the uncle kills the dad then picks up the mom. Its so f***ed up and i really love it. I love how it was a play within a play that was pretty crazy. There wasnt really anything i didnt like it had sex,violence and some crazy twists. GOOD PICK LAV DAWG&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-3409095908248517476?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/3409095908248517476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=3409095908248517476' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3409095908248517476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3409095908248517476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/blog-post.html' title='???'/><author><name>C00Th Ma$t3R Flex...G00nT3r</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17883669144227521936</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-1893377405952664735</id><published>2009-03-03T09:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T10:51:15.575-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hamlet</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Overall, I really enjoyed this book. It has some very interesting plot and themes to it. I by far thought the play inside the play was one of the best scenes. "The Mouse Trap" was a perfect way to show that the king was guilty and to put the pressure on him. Hamlet does an amazing job with his revenger, although it doesn't exactly go as plan. I can't believe that Shakespeare killed off so many people it the end. It was just so strange with all of the poison going around. It was done very well in the book, but the movie not so much. It was way too cheesy. Overall I think this is probably my favorite book that we have read so far. It's got some very interesting characters, some pretty out there scenes.  It was a fun read and i'm excited to write an actual paper on it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-1893377405952664735?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/1893377405952664735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=1893377405952664735' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1893377405952664735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1893377405952664735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/hamlet_03.html' title='Hamlet'/><author><name>Erin T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10770617103587512236</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-7746230495746459514</id><published>2009-03-03T09:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T09:17:11.745-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We're All Fodder</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Towards the end of Act Four when Hamlet arrives at the revelation that all beings are one in the same; the web of life is all that connects us as creatures living on Earth. When being interrogated as to the whereabouts of Palonius’ corpse Hamlet describes the cycle of life quite poignantly, “…we fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots.” Inevitably we all survive off each other, we fatten up the cows to drink their milk and eat their meat, and we die after surviving off the cow and feed the decomposers below. Each species is interconnected and relies upon one another. This theme of things and people being connected is developed further when Hamlet delves into the realm of insanity after his father’s death, this lunacy eventually leaves Palonius’ bloody, morbid corpse lying motionless on the floor after Hamlet stabs him. Ophelia hears of her father’s death and is also driven insane, the loss of her beloved father is too much to bear just like Hamlet. This madness is eventually the death of both Hamlet and Ophelia. The insanity also indirectly steals the life of Claudius, Gertrude, Laertes, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and Palonius, in the end Hamlet’s obsession with his father’s death and taking revenge inevitably leaves each main character in the play lifeless. This fascination serves as the web that connects each character, like the web that connects each species; the web of life. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-7746230495746459514?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/7746230495746459514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=7746230495746459514' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7746230495746459514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7746230495746459514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/were-all-fodder.html' title='We&apos;re All Fodder'/><author><name>Sir BlogMastah OwnZalot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04505649530317953151</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-7754824094126883227</id><published>2009-03-03T09:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T09:27:29.399-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hammy</title><content type='html'>Personally, i thoroughly enjoyed Hamlet. The themes it addressed kept me intrigued and my mind wondering. I found the familial aspect and the respect for royal blood to be my main point of focus.  The obligations and desires of each family member send the plot spiraling downward to one final, climactic scene; the fencing match between Laertes and Hamlet. This scene depicts everything Shakespeare was trying to convey with this work. The struggle between life and death, hesitation, and absolutes.&lt;br /&gt;The introduction of Fortinbras and his ability to act brashly provides the plot with two ends to a spectrum. You have Fortinbras who conquers Denmark on a whim, without hesitation, and then you have Hamlet, who cannot act without first thinking the situation over deeply, often resulting in overthinking, which then results in a missed opportunity and a contribution to his self-destruction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-7754824094126883227?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/7754824094126883227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=7754824094126883227' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7754824094126883227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7754824094126883227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/hammy.html' title='Hammy'/><author><name>clayton</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01874689786926756298</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-8392710629148434187</id><published>2009-03-03T08:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T09:00:35.085-08:00</updated><title type='text'>NOTHING to do with Hamlet!</title><content type='html'>Due to tech problems...this is simply a test to see if anything of mine will blog...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-8392710629148434187?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/8392710629148434187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=8392710629148434187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8392710629148434187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8392710629148434187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/nothing-to-do-with-hamlet.html' title='NOTHING to do with Hamlet!'/><author><name>Amerina!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996598827770107978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-3872564031811283952</id><published>2009-03-03T08:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T09:11:52.759-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing with the Kings Mind</title><content type='html'>I had a very strong attraction to the scene where Hamlet calls out the king on killing his father. I feel like this is a crucial scene in the play and makes the intesity level of the murder increase a mass amount. In the beggining of the book the intensity of the murder just wasn't there but once Hamlet found out that his uncle killed his father, the intesity level rose. This is seen when Hamlet directed a play for his mother and father to test their strenghth on the death of Hamlets father. If the King got uncomfortable Hamlet would know for sure that his uncle killed his father and if he didn't he either had to find a new way to make Claudius show his weakness or just have to go with the fact that Claudius was telling the truth. Without this scene I think that the play would be ruined because this one main scene really starts off the whole Uncomfortable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-3872564031811283952?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/3872564031811283952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=3872564031811283952' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3872564031811283952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3872564031811283952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/playing-with-kings-mind.html' title='Playing with the Kings Mind'/><author><name>CamJohn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17678764383966589873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-3170065395328592984</id><published>2009-03-03T08:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T08:41:43.780-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hesitation</title><content type='html'>throughout the play i was very annoyed with Hamlet's inability to make decisions. A great amount of the play was just him thinking about what to do. In my opinion, it was much too long and could have been more enjoyable without someo fthe pointless seeming dialogue. Hamlet does think too much. Given the circumstances i'd think there would not be another option besides revenge. I guess i feel that the story is somewhat weak in that regard, also it does nothing for me to know that these events about a real place have fake characters and they didnt really happen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-3170065395328592984?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/3170065395328592984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=3170065395328592984' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3170065395328592984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3170065395328592984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/hesitation_03.html' title='hesitation'/><author><name>save the crust</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13980615492036855329</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-4440797532764331369</id><published>2009-03-02T21:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T22:03:19.408-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mind</title><content type='html'>"Frailty, thy name is woman." I absolutely love that line. Though I disagree with it, as it stands there, completely alone. The reason humans can be "frail" or strong is the mind. The essence of thought is what can make a person waver; thoughts can be the poison that slowly kill us. Hamlet had no intention of going mad. (Then again, who does?) Then again, it is almost like telling yourself a lie so much that you begin to believe that it is true! I truly do believe that Hamlet does go mad, because he is allowing his mind to corrupt every situation. A man of thought, his actions are consequently insane! Without the power of thought, we would be nothing. Civilization would not exist. I am not ridiculing the power of the mind, but I am asking if Shakespeare was aware of how fragile the mind could be. Under certain stress -the loss of a loved one, the desire for revenge, the images of ghosts appearing to you and only you- there are limitations that the mind can and cannot handle. Because the mind is so capable of brilliance, do we often overlook the fragile qualities? Action is a result of thinking, and, in Hamlet's case, hesitation is the result of over-thinking. Do we bring madness upon ourselves? Is this tragedy the idea of human psychology and the result of trauma being insanity, always? Do we not see Laertes go mad with the want of revenge? Polonius mad with a twisted jealousy? (In the sense that he could not fathom Hamlet taking Ophelia to his bed, because he was an overprotective father.) Do we see a hint of remorse in Gertrude at the end, when she can quite clearly hear the despair in Claudius' voice yet she still drinks the poisoned drink, and this remorse causes severe action of suicide? Is Ophelia not mad with anger and betrayal? Who in the play does not give into the weakness of their own mind?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-4440797532764331369?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/4440797532764331369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=4440797532764331369' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4440797532764331369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4440797532764331369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/mind.html' title='The Mind'/><author><name>Alexandra McClun (邁 亞 蕾)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06154017874833928093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4hBWOwphPHg/Th42F4YgaoI/AAAAAAAAACU/kZLFVJJQmas/s220/P4090190.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-8875118518090334432</id><published>2009-03-02T20:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T20:30:34.759-08:00</updated><title type='text'>betrayal</title><content type='html'>Betrayal seems a common theme through out the play Hamlet.  Hamlet, betrayed by his father (sort of, not intentionally) is left to deal with the betrayal of his mother and his uncle.  Their incestuous relationship sickens the prince and his grief for his father's death only grows.  Although, Hamlet is not the only one betrayed.  His uncle in ways is betrayed by him.  At first, true he might be plotting against his nephew but there is also a hint of acceptance that this man who is younger than him will one day be the king of denmark.  Claudius was alsto betrayed by Rozancrantz and Guldenstern, but in turn so was Hamlet.  The pair made out fine until, they themselves were returned with betrayal from Hamlet in letter to England.  Laertes suffers the most, maybe not of betrayal but of misfortune because of betrayal.  The death of his father directly has a part in Claudius' betrayal of Hamlet and the death of his sister also has a part in Hamlet's own betrayal of Ohpelia (and Polonius' betrayal of his own daughter in not letting her love who she pleased.)  Being a tragedy, all betrayal comes to an end when the characters are found dying off quickly and by the means of poison and trickery-turned-bad.  The only person not to die, ironically is Horatio, the only character who has lived sincerely, without betrayal through out the entire play.  He has stuck to Hamlet's side and knows everything, the only one who knows the truth.  So maybe this scews the idea of tragedy?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-8875118518090334432?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/8875118518090334432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=8875118518090334432' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8875118518090334432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8875118518090334432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/betrayal.html' title='betrayal'/><author><name>Kenya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07092978049424763159</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-3769341228416491809</id><published>2009-03-02T20:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T20:39:36.021-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Madness</title><content type='html'>Obviously madness plays a very large part in Shakespeare's play &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hamlet, &lt;/span&gt;however the madness that pervades throughout both the play and the characters isn't all the same.  First we have the guards, the men who see the ghost first.  Since ghosts are more a figment of the imagination than an actual thing, this is the first place we see madness.  This scene is  very important for setting the stage for the rest of the play.  This scene introduces the madness that will be seen throughout the play.  The next place we see madness is when Hamlet talks to the ghost.  Again we have a character essentially talking to himself.  This scene sets the stage for Hamlet's future madness, although Hamlet decides that he will pretend to be mad, there is a certain level of real madness that Hamlet experiences.  Hamlet's madness, like Ophelia's stems not from a biological predisposition, but rather from grief.  The loss of his father and the quick remarriage by his mother causes Hamlet much grief.  Instead of using typical outlets for that grief Hamlet begins to hallucinate, he convinces himself that in order to avenge his father he must pretend to be crazy, he must bring hardship to his life and to the lives of those around him.  Furthermore, his craziness leads him to place blame, while the blame isn't baseless, it's not entirely proved either.  Hamlet's craziness leads to anger, frustration, and the need for revenge.  The typical trio for men.  On the other side of the spectrum we have Ophelia's madness.  Her madness stems from grief as well.  However, instead of looking to avenge her father, her craziness results in suicide.  Ophelia and Hamlet's craziness both stem from grief and their end result, whether intentional or unintentional, brings pain to those around them.  &lt;div&gt;I believe that Shakespeare used his character's craziness to provide insight into both their character's minds as well as gender differences that are seen in everything.  The fact that he had the two lovers Ophelia and Hamlet go mad shows the two sides of craziness, the violent and conniving side, as well as the depressed and suicidal side.  I believe Shakespeare's overall theme was grief, but the way that he chose to represent his theme was through madness.  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hamlet, &lt;/span&gt;was a way for Shakespeare to explore grief to it's fullest extent.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-3769341228416491809?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/3769341228416491809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=3769341228416491809' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3769341228416491809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3769341228416491809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/madness_02.html' title='Madness'/><author><name>Jacqui</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12897803461950469478</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-5635656390585059764</id><published>2009-03-02T18:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T20:05:32.913-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hamlet</title><content type='html'>I thoroughly enjoyed Hamlet. I actually found the writing extremely interesting and the themes very poignant. With Kirk reading them I often found myself trying to read it before he got there so I could better understand them (even then I failed occasionally). The majority of the meaning, came out of the class discussions. My personal favorite passages were the now infamous "To be or not to be" sollioquoy and the passage about "the fall of the sparrow"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me they really exemplified the language and themes of the play. In the passage "To be or not to be..." Hamlet really explores the meaning of life and suicide, which often leads to actors over-playing the speech, and in "the fall of the sparrow" he discusses fate and the inevitability of death, which in itself is kind of a throw back to the "To be or not to be..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The meanings behind these two passages leads me to a question though, why has every book we read since &lt;em&gt;Jane Eyre &lt;/em&gt;dealt with suicide, at least theorhetically? I mean, &lt;em&gt;Madame Bovary&lt;/em&gt; Emma kills herself, &lt;em&gt;Flaubert's Parrot&lt;/em&gt; Braithwaite's wife killed herself, &lt;em&gt;Mrs. Dalloway&lt;/em&gt; Septimus kills himself and Clarissa considers it, &lt;em&gt;The Hours&lt;/em&gt; Richard kills himself, Laura Brown considered it, and Virginia Woolf killed herself (although that is a historical fact), and now &lt;em&gt;Hamlet&lt;/em&gt; Ophelia kills herself and Hamlet considers it many times. I'm just trying to figure this out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to Hamlet, I have to acknowledge that supplementing the reading with watching Kenneth Brannagh's version really helped.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-5635656390585059764?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/5635656390585059764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=5635656390585059764' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5635656390585059764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5635656390585059764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/hamlet_02.html' title='Hamlet'/><author><name>AJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02681624025045060538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-3653466578471581000</id><published>2009-03-02T18:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T08:42:55.463-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A great work...</title><content type='html'>At first, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hamlet&lt;/span&gt; was nothing more than a slur of words put together that, to some, was a work of literary genius.  I did not see the attraction, however.  I could not grasp anything that was going on, and for the most part picked out the overall message and theme.  After making way through the book, however, I began to appreciate the novel, page-by-page, and understood what the rave was about.  In &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hamlet&lt;/span&gt;, and presumably his other works, Shakespeare employs many intricate, albeit gruesome themes and scenes, through his thoughtful, well-written acts.  The writing is what is most intriguing to me about Shakespeare's works.  The tediousness that Shakespeare uses in &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hamlet&lt;/span&gt; is evident within his work.  I really enjoy having to contemplate what I just read, finding the deeper meaning within his comprehensive sentences.  In&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Hamlet&lt;/span&gt; there is plenty of room to be able to do this.  Shakespeare's word choice and sentence formation is unrivaled in modern literature.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Although I like Shakespeare's writing, his story line is hard to accept.  The number of people that are offed seems to be almost too much.  In the last scene, we see the end of most of the major characters of the play.  Could this be because Shakespeare needed to end the play in tragedy form, or did he just get bored and found an end to his extensive play?  Was this the norm for the time?  I'm sure whatever the reason, it was a good reason.  This does not, however, satisfy my need for an ending.  To me, it just seemed like there was too much death, and not enough happiness.  Shakespeare could have done many other things with the characters at the end, but instead found it easier to simply kill all of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nonetheless, I truly enjoyed this play.  Many aspects of this play are very admirable in the literary world, and there is no wonder in my mind why &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hamlet&lt;/span&gt; is revered in the literary world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-3653466578471581000?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/3653466578471581000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=3653466578471581000' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3653466578471581000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3653466578471581000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/great-work.html' title='A great work...'/><author><name>Keegan Fairfield</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02569209590934872020</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-8025010605110124708</id><published>2009-03-02T17:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T18:10:54.665-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hesitation</title><content type='html'>Hamlet's inability to act, and his over hastiness, has dire consequences for every character in the play, and indeed gives this "tragedy" its obsession with death.  If he had been able to kill Claudius when he was at prayer, Polonius would not have been killed, Ophelia wouldn't have been driven insane, and Laertes and Hamlet would not have killed each other.  But instead, unlike Fortinbras, he finds himself a man of thought rather than action, which as Shakespeare believes what makes us human, rather than animal, and the product of an intelligent man.  He finds himself unable to commit the many dirty plans that he has quickly laid out for Claudius to fall upon, but when given multiple chances, he fails to act.  I am a person of action, often rashly and impulsivly, though usually preceeded by some thought, I know that opportunity goes away at the drop of a coin.  Yes, when someone makes a choice, they close many other doors, but if you wait, all of your options go away, and you are forced to do something that you didn't conceive of before.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-8025010605110124708?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/8025010605110124708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=8025010605110124708' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8025010605110124708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8025010605110124708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/hesitation_02.html' title='Hesitation'/><author><name>Connor Reich</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18064840102118063399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-7928639931238918677</id><published>2009-03-02T12:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T12:12:49.584-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lovely Destruction</title><content type='html'>The familial relationships throughout "Hamlet" lead to revenge and death. The family unit is so twisted and warped throughout "Hamlet", it is outrageous.  Shakespeare has a brother killing his other brother to get at his wife, and two sons bent on revenging their father’s deaths.  It seems as though none of the characters can trust one another, and eventually all of their scheming turns around and is their undoing.   In "Hamlet", love is a direct path to destruction, and the presence of any type of devotion ultimately leads to death.  It starts with Claudius, jealous of Hamlet Sr.’s marriage with Gertrude, deciding to murder the King.  Because of Hamlet Sr.’s death, Hamlet turns against his mother and uncle out of fury and grief.  Hamlet’s love for his father leads him on a path of destruction, and his grief from the loss of his father inadvertently sets off a chain reaction with all the other characters, causing them to fall to their doom.  His love kills Polonius, which makes Laertes mad with grief.  His love destroys Ophelia, first breaking her heart by “deflowering” her and then proceeding to drive her mad with the death of her father.  It seems the only character unaffected by the entire tragic scheme is Horatio, who has no family connections in the play, and because of just being an onlooker, he is the only character left alive at the end of the novel.  Perhaps Shakespeare is trying to highlight the problems love can cause once it turns around and becomes evil.  Love breeds revenge and jealousy, which are both present in the play in familial relationships or other types of connections between the characters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-7928639931238918677?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/7928639931238918677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=7928639931238918677' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7928639931238918677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7928639931238918677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/lovely-destruction.html' title='The Lovely Destruction'/><author><name>Evan T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02914905542070487522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-8606315963269163637</id><published>2009-03-02T08:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T08:46:36.428-08:00</updated><title type='text'>insanity</title><content type='html'>Hamlet and Ophelia are both as crazy as one could get. Although Hamlets is feigned, he does a very good job playing the part. It would be so hard to be act insane the whole time but Hamlet pulls it off with ease. He is very convincing with his skills in acting crazy. Ophelia on the other hand, is a psycho. When she hears of the news that her father has been killed, it sends her off the deep end and into the looney bin. I know that dealing with a fathers death would be one of the hardest things to cope with, but for the death to lead to insanity, you would have to be very very close with your father. Ophelia and Hamlet are in two completely different situations, situations that they both do not want to be in. Hamlet wants people to think he has gone mad but he really has not, and Ophelia is a psycho but doesnt want people to think this. All in all, this book has been a fun read, especially towards the end with all of the different drama going on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-8606315963269163637?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/8606315963269163637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=8606315963269163637' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8606315963269163637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8606315963269163637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/insanity.html' title='insanity'/><author><name>stuhunt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05462456494735957007</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-8898279407796161405</id><published>2009-03-02T06:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T06:53:44.137-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Sex and Violence"</title><content type='html'>The combination of lust and murder throughout &lt;em&gt;Hamlet&lt;/em&gt; creates clashing outlooks for the female roles. Although there Shakespeare crams a lot of themes into his plays, which make the tales of &lt;em&gt;Romeo and Juliette, Taming of the Shrew&lt;/em&gt; and many other Shakespearean stories relevant to contemporary life, the overall acknowledgement of women in Hamlet, does seem more negative than that of today.&lt;br /&gt;Right off the bat Gertrude is perceived as an “incestuous” bride for marrying within a month of Hamlet’s father’s death (Act 1.2). The audience never hears a soliloquy or independent speech that givers Gertrude’s point of view. Even though she probably doesn’t deserve it, there is never time to find out whether or not there is true love between her and Claudius. It is all from Hamlet, the man’s point of view, and women are initially seen as deceiving and “whore-like.” We never really get to understand what Gertrude’s motives and involvement were with the death of her husband, it almost seems as if her reputation as a character is sought after more than the power hungry Claudius. It is evident from the initial introduction of Gertrude that women are not perceived as they are today (which is partly due to the fact that it was in the era, but isn’t Shakespeare supposed to be this genius who writes meaningful plays that have lasted for centuries as a form of “excellent writing??)&lt;br /&gt;Then there is Ophelia. Between her brother telling her that Hamlet’s love will be short lived, her father conspiring against her lover with her letters, and Hamlet telling her to go to a “nunnery” (Act 3.1), it is no surprise she is driven mad. Ophelia’s mistreatment and her road to madness makes me give a second thought to Shakespeare’s motives. Shakespeare obviously understood the public disdain and mistreatment towards women or it wouldn’t have been included in his plays, however by having Ophelia go mad is he trying to represent how it’s surprising that all women don’t go mad because of all the discrimination during this era? I don’t know how if I want to give him credit for this because throughout the play Hamlet’s is constantly calling his mother and Ophelia whores as well as metaphorically integrating it into the rest of his language.&lt;br /&gt;In a roundabout sort of way this comes back to the combination of lust and murder throughout the play. In between all the discrimination of women there is all this violence succumbed by the essence of love. Ophelia drowning herself and Gertrude remarrying so quickly cause turmoil that has the potential to turn dangerous. I wonder if Shakespeare had some kind of “hater-feelings” against the actuality of love and blamed women for it. But at the same time it seems that Shakespeare could have considered the fact that because of society’s indiscrimination it wasn’t entirely women’s fault that they invoked corruption, and in a sense Shakespeare intended to give most women credit for not going mad and drowning themselves. The many messages distributed throughout &lt;em&gt;Hamlet&lt;/em&gt; can all be seen from different point of views, was Hamlet mad or was he faking it, are women viewed as “whores” or actually accredited in a “hidden” meaning (if they should be accredited why should it even be hidden??), no matter what the true meaning Shakespeare definitely had some talent up his sleeve.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-8898279407796161405?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/8898279407796161405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=8898279407796161405' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8898279407796161405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8898279407796161405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/sex-and-violence.html' title='&quot;Sex and Violence&quot;'/><author><name>Maddie Crowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14005367734524519930</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-5364412106375209174</id><published>2009-03-01T23:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T23:13:08.579-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Madness</title><content type='html'>It's pretty strange, the difference between Hamlet's "madness" and Ophelia honest-to-goodness craziness. I mean, Hamlet's idea of going crazy was just to be rude and crude and generally tick people off, whereas Ophelia was prancing around, singing about this and that, honestly being insane. When Hamlet goes "mad," his friends and family do what they can to try and figure out the caue of his craziness, but to no avail. They can never figure out what was this impetus for his disturbance, and he does very little to show what's bothering him (that is, until the actors come to town). Ophelia, however, has no problem letting everyone around know what's on her mind and what's bothering her. She sings on and on about her father and his grave and so on and so forth. Hamlet's fake insanity was angry and vengeful. Ophelia's real insanity was pure and honest, and much more sad.&lt;br /&gt;I don't really have a main idea that I'm trying to convey here, I'm just musing. Maybe the type of insaity suffered by Hamlet and Ophelia reflects the cause of their respective insanities? Because Hamlet's was fake, a part of a vendetta scheme, his craziness was louder, causing him to say vulgar things, and just generally be a nuisance. Ophelia's craziness, however, was true, and the effect of suddenly having her father killed, not in an attempt to avenge him. Perhaps this shows the innocence of the characters? Hamlet was a sneakier person, while Ophelia represented a purer person? I don't know, really, haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-5364412106375209174?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/5364412106375209174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=5364412106375209174' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5364412106375209174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5364412106375209174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/madness.html' title='Madness'/><author><name>meghanknowles</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-969906018121426510</id><published>2009-03-01T22:41:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T23:01:01.751-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love and Madness</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Hamlet, hmmm...where to start. Although, the play was hard to understand at first throughout the play the development of the madness in the character caught my greatest attention.  Lets face it, Hamlet is a crazy person who I would run away from if I saw him.  The cause of all of the madness through Ophelia and Hamlet is a result of loss of love and compassion from someone.  Hamlet starts to go mad after the death of his father and the discovery of how the King murdered his father.  Shakespeare shows the value of love and the impact of broken trust through the deterioration of Hamlet's relationships which caused him to go mad.  The strongest and most psychotic breakdown of Hamlet was after he killed Polonius and after the altercation he partakes in with Ophelia.  Shakespeare creates the split-personality of Hamlet to show the dimension and true impact and value of love.  With the love of family and that "special person" life seems to have more meaning, Shakespeare had the loss of his father affect Hamlet so greatly to show his point.  The destruction of Ophelia and Hamlet's relationship was a result of Hamlet's mental breakdown. The result of the lack of intimacy and love that Hamlet provides for Ophelia drives her literally insane.  Ophelia and Hamlet are put in the same mental state as they have both experienced the grave sorrow of the loss of a father.  Why does Shakespeare have them both lose a father and then go crazy? To attract more influence on the importance of family relations and the impact of love.  I will admit that I had a hard time keeping my attention toward Hamlet.  With all of the crazy nonsense of Hamlet's tantrums and the unpredictable deaths written in Shakespearian ways, it was hard for me to follow at times.  There is a lot of crazy behavior, which  Shakespeare intended to draw attention to the lack of love and the drive for power in a corrupt system.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-969906018121426510?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/969906018121426510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=969906018121426510' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/969906018121426510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/969906018121426510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/love-and-madness.html' title='Love and Madness'/><author><name>dogs down under</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08604922048371759614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-8355647595945594475</id><published>2009-03-01T20:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T21:02:50.284-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To Act or Not to Act</title><content type='html'>Are the consequences of acting hastily worse than those from acting too late?  In so many things, a split-second hesitation and all is lost. But reckless action can have a devastating aftermath. When Hamlet kills Polonius in a thoughtless blunder, it leads to the insanity and death of Ophelia, and Laertes’ and Hamlet’s duel and subsequent deaths, which results in the queen’s poisoning. Thus Shakespeare seems to feel that mindless action is certainly the wrong path to take. But if Hamlet hadn’t hesitated, when before he holds his dagger above the praying king, none of those terrible events would ever have occurred. So does Shakespeare think deliberation is worse? The only problem with compulsively murdering Claudius for Hamlet was that his uncle would have gone to heaven. Yet afterwards Claudius says his prayers didn’t reach heaven anyway. Perhaps with this irony Shakespeare chooses wild action over thoughtful indecision, and just rubs in it Hamlet’s face.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-8355647595945594475?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/8355647595945594475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=8355647595945594475' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8355647595945594475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8355647595945594475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/to-act-or-not-to-act.html' title='To Act or Not to Act'/><author><name>Emma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11329880566757921072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-8884859840322846687</id><published>2009-03-01T20:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T20:59:45.774-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hesitation</title><content type='html'>Hamlet's hesitation at the one point when he had a chance to kill Claudius is what really turned the whole play into a tragedy and not just a tale of revenge.  Hamlet cannot find the will to act, he makes excuses over and over in his head just to refrain from acting. However, it seems that his inability, at least the way Shakespeare presents it, is instead a product of being such an intellectual man.  It's clear from the way he devises all these plans to trap Claudius that he thinks quickly and clearly and can easily conceive a complex plan, then act upon it.  But when it comes to actual dirty deeds himself, he cannot commit.  This strange split, of how he can act when it is not needed (Of course he knows Claudius is guilty, he doesn't need more and more proof), and to not be able to act when it is needed.  In some cases his hesitation could be a benefit, maybe if he wasn't sure (he hadn't been visited by a ghost perhaps) then this hesitation could save an innocent life, but being a person of action myself, (Though often preceded by thoughts) I do believe that hesitation only destroys opportunity.  When someone makes a choice they close the door on thousands of other options, but they do commit to one path, when someone hesitates they instead close the door on every single possibility and leave themselves stranded.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-8884859840322846687?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/8884859840322846687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=8884859840322846687' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8884859840322846687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8884859840322846687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/hesitation.html' title='Hesitation'/><author><name>Kirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01696626305580944637</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-6280849935763872897</id><published>2009-03-01T20:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T20:19:21.673-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Death</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family: 'Trebuchet MS'; font-size: 13px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;From the start of the play it is already based off of the tragedy of the death of the King. From here this is what the play’s plot is based off of and Shakespeare incorporates death in the play as the main theme. It is not just death, it is the whole process, for some it is the tragedies that makes Ophelia drown her self, and then it is the drive that makes Hamlet want to get revenge for his father. Through the whole process of getting revenge there is a lot of accidents. Is this Shakespeare just trying to be funny? Or is he showing how revenge is not the answer and that in the end it is not worth it and everyone will suffer in the end. Really Shakespeare is showing that you should not take the law into your own hands because the out come is not worth it. The repetition of death throughout the play is Shakespeare’s way of showing that revenge is not the answer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-6280849935763872897?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/6280849935763872897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=6280849935763872897' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6280849935763872897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6280849935763872897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/death.html' title='Death'/><author><name>Jerry</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-2861905206000263443</id><published>2009-03-01T18:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T19:16:41.158-08:00</updated><title type='text'>acting within acting</title><content type='html'>Hamlet is a play within itself. All the characters are putting on acts over their true selves. Essentially the play is about acting, which is what a play is. Hamlet and Ophelia both develop insanity, although Hamlets insanity is feigned. Ophelia's insanity develops when she finds out that her father has been killed. Hamlet reenacts the murder of his father in the form of a play that he puts on to the king. Even though Hamlet has clearly stated to the king that he knows that he killed his father, the king acts as if nothing is amiss. The queen realizes that Hamlet is calling her out for being a tramp and she reacts by ignoring it. Polonius understands the circumstances but does not take a stand and call the king out. It is ironic that he is the only one who could of proved the kings crime when Hamlet is the one who killed him. Hamlet is not insane although thats what he wants people to believe, Ophelia is completely insane although she would like people to believe her not to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-2861905206000263443?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/2861905206000263443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=2861905206000263443' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2861905206000263443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2861905206000263443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/acting-within-acting.html' title='acting within acting'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05432813289745605461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-7741252627847779247</id><published>2009-03-01T18:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T19:14:35.088-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Relations</title><content type='html'>In &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hamlet &lt;/span&gt;the familial relationships play a role of crazy, twisted, not in line at all, and disheveled just like families are supposed to be, or at least how normal families are.  So this story to me isn't one that is out of the ordinary, except for the section of the book where everyone does at the same time.  Between son and father the connection seemed to be just fine, as well as the son and mother connection.  What came to be confusing just like kids are all over the world, is when one of their single parents gets remarried.  Like Hamlet when his father dies and his mother remarries to Hamlet's uncle.  Such as confused kids are when this happens to them in their normal everyday lives, is the question...does the son or daughter call him "Dad"?, which is a word that some get rushed into saying way too quickly because they feel that they need to.  That they might feel that they won't have a normal family if there isn't both a "Mother" and a "Father" in the household.  The main thing that I enjoyed about Hamlet's character was that he thought things freely, did what he wanted, said what he wanted, said what he was thinking, said it whenever he wanted, and kept it real throughout this novel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-7741252627847779247?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/7741252627847779247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=7741252627847779247' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7741252627847779247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7741252627847779247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/family-relations.html' title='Family Relations'/><author><name>baller sauce</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06850518785130285571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-5614992566669743257</id><published>2009-03-01T16:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T17:11:29.047-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tragedy?  Or not....</title><content type='html'>Alright, so yes this play claims to be a tragedy, and yes loosing your father and then having your mom marry your uncle and having your uncle trying to kill you is slightly tragic, however there seems to be a lot of jest for this to be 100% sad.  Both Ophelia's and Hamlet's madness, while it could be disheartening, is actually quite funny.  I could be dead inside, but I'm sorry Ophelia's little scene of singing was quite funny (and no, not because of Meghan's singing, she actually acted the part of "mad woman singing" nicely, Bravo Meg).  In comparison, Hamlet's little show of madness (or actual madness, that's yet to be discussed) is also comical; his interactions with Ophelia's father cause slight chuckling.  "Ha-ha".  In fact, even the "tragic" scenes leave a bit of comical residue, "I've been slain", and yes, I'm sure Shakespeare did not intend to make us laugh with that one-liner, but in modern times, it's one-liners like that that knock us on our back.  Also, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Laertes's&lt;/span&gt; oh so dull response to his sister's death, "Ah so she hath drowned" (I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;apologize&lt;/span&gt; for that last line not being authentic, the book is in my car...and my car is outside, you catch my drift).  All of this is funny, not sad!  Not even the end, a mass &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;homicide&lt;/span&gt;, is that sad.  Perhaps back in the day of Billy all of this was tear-jerking.  Maybe back then everyone had a little more empathy for the poor little prince whose life has been turned upside down.  Maybe us &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;nowadays&lt;/span&gt; are just dead inside.  This I highly doubt, given we're the only generation of people I know that cry at shows like Friends or Finding &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Nemo&lt;/span&gt;, oh the sadness of them no longer drawing that mama fish.  Back then, when front row seats were poor peasants sitting on the ground, I highly doubt they were feeling empathy for Hamlet the prince.  (That's me assuming the emotion of bitter resentment has been around for that long).  Basically what I'm getting out through this sarcastic rant is that Hamlet was damn funny...really not that sad, and I'm assuming that the people back then also found bits and pieces of the play amusing.  However, we still call it a tragedy...maybe we could shift that?  Maybe it could be like a half-n-half pizza; half tragedy, half comedy, split the face right down the middle make a little laugh, little cry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-5614992566669743257?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/5614992566669743257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=5614992566669743257' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5614992566669743257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5614992566669743257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/tragedy-or-not.html' title='Tragedy?  Or not....'/><author><name>Lindsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12688635100110851290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-9188089171169445916</id><published>2009-03-01T16:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T17:10:31.447-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mad</title><content type='html'>Hamlet uses his “madness” to his own advantage.  He becomes an island of a man by making everyone think he is mad so they will not come near him.  He acts flamboyant, loud, and spastic; spewing out complicated ramblings. To others he becomes unpredictable and they are afraid of what he will say next.  Because of this they tend to stay away from him.  It is not real.  He is trying it to separate himself from the court and anyone else who might bother him or get in his way.  He desires his alone time.  On the other hand, Ophelia’s madness is defiantly real and not planned at all.  She has emotionally collapsed and her brain has gone with it.  She is delusional and acts unexplainable and sings for no apparent reason at any given time.  She speaks of true and false things through vague metaphors, songs, and crazy mumblings.  She does not want people to think that she is crazy; she is crazy.  She just could not handle her father’s death along with the other problems of her life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-9188089171169445916?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/9188089171169445916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=9188089171169445916' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/9188089171169445916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/9188089171169445916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/mad.html' title='Mad'/><author><name>maxb</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00876558059944778592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-6212428369521781933</id><published>2009-03-01T16:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T16:45:56.767-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Insane in the Membrane</title><content type='html'>Hamlet doesn't pretend to be mad.  He is mad.  I can understand how he would feel if his father was killed and his mother moved on to the murderer right away.  However, I'm pretty sure that he was "pretending" to be mad to cover up his real insanity.  As one reads Hamlet, it's easy to see that this guy is crazy.  When he tries to act crazy, it seems as if he turns out be more mad when he's just being himself.  Take, for example, when he kills Polonius.  Who in their right mind would stab a man to death through a curtain (a man who did not kill one's father) and at the same time totally pass up the chance to knife the guy who really did kill your father?  Clearly, Hamlet is phsyco.  Perhaps he just has anger issues, but still.  I'm not a fan of this character.  Ophelia's madness seems to be this crazy-happy madness.  She is just totally gone, while Hamlet was still plotting during his madness.  Both of these character's crazyness does occur rather quickly.  One minute they're decently normal, the next their killing people, or themselves.  Ophelia, however, probably became more insane the second the stuck her in a padded room in a straight jacket.  That would definitely make me go a little crazy, let alone the fact that the guy she just hooked up with stabbed her own father to death.  These two characters have a ton of personal baggage, if you ask me.  But honestly, I think Shakespeare does a pretty poor job of really portraying these characters as crazy.  They just seem a little off, not totally wacked out.  Perhaps I just don't totally understand Shakespeare.  That's probably it.  Either way, I didn't find myself much invested in these characters, so as things played out, I wasn't really affected either way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-6212428369521781933?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/6212428369521781933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=6212428369521781933' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6212428369521781933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6212428369521781933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/insane-in-membrane.html' title='Insane in the Membrane'/><author><name>Sarah Carlson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02857744094603671861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-5574289600569838589</id><published>2009-03-01T15:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T22:26:32.821-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The tragedy of Hamlet</title><content type='html'>This play seems to revolve around death and sadness. Each character has their own depressing moment. Hamlet is disturbed by his father's death. Hamlet (senior) is upset with his own murder and has come back as a ghost to take revenge through his son. Revenge and death is what the whole play is based on and how it begins. It doesn't help the cause that there is an accidental death either, come on Hamlet, mistaking Ophelia (your love) for your sick and greedy uncle turned step father and king! Poor Ophelia and Laertes that have to directly deal with the grief with first being lied to/not told and then finding out it was a mistake by the prince and that of course he will be pardoned. That would then have caused the death of Ophelia, but you saw that one coming because what's the theme again? Oh yes, DEATH! The ending summarizes the "tragedy" part of the tragedy of Hamlet by making the final main characters all die as well. Hamlet himself,  and even the man who thought he had outwitted his nephew. But even though there is this omnipresent idea of mortality, there is quite the opposite contrast in the play as well. Love is prevalent when it contradicts the upsetting sad moments that the characters encounter. Ophelia and Hamlet have their romance but when things go amuck, so does their love. Gertrude and her second husband have a marriage less than two months after her first husband and father of her child dies. But then again, they die and wither away in the end too. Maybe this was Shakespeare's way of expressing himself, but he sure had strong feelings by all means then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-5574289600569838589?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/5574289600569838589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=5574289600569838589' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5574289600569838589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5574289600569838589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/tragedy-of-hamlet.html' title='The tragedy of Hamlet'/><author><name>Mackenzie Bronson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05148585348159474448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-8198385618780024833</id><published>2009-03-01T13:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T14:16:31.195-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hamlet</title><content type='html'>Hamlet...hmmm i have to say that this isn't one of my favorite books we have read thus far. I find the language challenging to follow and the book in general just doesn't seem to capture my attention, although, this isn't to say that it doesn't posses many good qualities. I have no doubt that this book, if looked deeper into, has many amazing qualities to offer. With that said, death is a huge part of Hamlet not only does one of the main characters die in the end but pretty much all of the main characters die which leaves me wondering what this reveals about Hamlet as a whole or more importantly Shakespeare himself. Shakespeare's use of death in this play in reality makes the play as a whole. The style in which he does this reveals a lot about the characters in the play. Similarly to Romeo and Juliet Hamlets main focus is death and all the deaths seem to in a sense rely on one another. For example Hamlet wants to kill the king because the king killed his father and Hamlet accidentally kills Polonius thinking it was the king. So in reality without death this play would have no main focus and i feel like this is how a lot of Shakespeare's work is. Death whether on purpose or accidental plagues this play, it is pervades all the characters in one way or another. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-8198385618780024833?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/8198385618780024833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=8198385618780024833' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8198385618780024833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8198385618780024833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/hamlet.html' title='hamlet'/><author><name>colors of the rainbow</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05006469826078605881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-590787539338812646</id><published>2009-03-01T13:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T13:34:24.623-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inability to take action...</title><content type='html'>The action that we expect Hamlet to take is continually postponed while he tries to find other ways of doing what he wants to do, or even a better way. For example, when he is going to kill Claudius as he is in the confessional, Hamlet realizes that although he has Claudius in the palm of his hands right now, there is a yet a better way to kill him. He says that he would rather kill him when he is in the middle of his sins rather than in the middle of repenting them so that he will go down the same path King Hamlet did when his life was unexpectedly taken away. Everything must be right for Hamlet to take action and he takes everything in consideration. However, the fact that he analyzes everything about taking action causes him to never take action the way he planned and be forced to do it in a rash manner. Is it better to think things through or act on impulse? Acting on impulse allows you to get things done that you may not otherwise have the courage to do. However when one acts on impulse, the reprecussions are not always realized, and therefore it may not always be the best way to go about accomplishing things. When you think things out as Hamlet does, you can get the best outcome from your actions. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-590787539338812646?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/590787539338812646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=590787539338812646' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/590787539338812646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/590787539338812646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/inability-to-take-action.html' title='Inability to take action...'/><author><name>Alei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14487617827694539379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-993544752098971882</id><published>2009-03-01T13:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T13:59:17.398-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sex, Violence, Madness-- what else do you need?</title><content type='html'>In this play there is a relationship of characteristics that have a “cause and effect” on the characters. These powerful characteristics that I am referring to are Madness and the presence of love and sex. To begin there is Hamlet, who begins to play a different role when he “becomes crazy” At first and throughout the play it is difficult to understand why in the beginning he pretends to be crazy. There is that possibility that he is not just entering this life of madness on his own will, maybe he actually has a chemical unbalance in his brain. The possibility is there, but I fail to accept it. It seems to me that Hamlet is just pretending to be mad in the establishment of his craziness to escape the enormous pressure that he has been put to. Then over a period of time he can’t find an escape to the escape that he created. In other words, he truly has become a madman. This deeply confuses Ophelia because of her mixed feelings about Hamlet.  She has been put through the most suffering throughout the story due to the chain of events that she has to deal with. At first Hamlet is confident that he is not in love with Ophelia and he lets her know that too. I believe that hamlet has always loved her, but he fails to let her know until the end of the play. When Hamlet first tells Ophelia that he is not attached to her she feels uncertain. This is because she also feels the presence of Hamlets love towards her, he does not speak of it, but Ophelia does know. Then When Hamlet “becomes crazy” Ophelia does not know what to think of him. She is deceived by his earlier intentions of letting her know that he is not in love with her, she begins to believe it. Then, when hamlet returns from England he declares that he has in fact always been in love with Ophelia. It just so happens that he returns right when Ophelia’s funeral is in process. I am sure that if she were to know that he returned and claimed that, she would be significantly baffled.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-993544752098971882?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/993544752098971882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=993544752098971882' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/993544752098971882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/993544752098971882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/sex-violence-madness-what-else-do-you.html' title='Sex, Violence, Madness-- what else do you need?'/><author><name>Neve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05079417914601927006</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-4400346465829516842</id><published>2009-03-01T10:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T10:49:28.725-08:00</updated><title type='text'>He Who Hesitates... One to many (death)</title><content type='html'>I think Hamlet's abundance of hesitation reveals something other than his timid nature. Ordered by his deceased father to get revenge on Claudius, Hamlet is forced to go against his moral conscience and commit murder. Is Hamlet's hesitation not only a result of his indecisive, skitzo character, but also that beside the fact that he loved his father, he is not willing to jeopardize his holy being. During the scene in which Claudius is praying and Hamlet convinces himself it would not be right to send Claudius to heaven and himself to hell, he decides not to stab him, revealing his connection to God and possibly his intentions to not destroy his relationship with the Holy Spirit. My impression was that despite Hamlet's various attempts to kill Claudius, he fails to follow through because he is some how afraid the same fate will befall him - in other words what goes around comes around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe the presences of death throughout the play in some way connect to the central theme that revenge is merciless. Far more characters are sacrificed than seems necessary, which in a way exaggerates the prominent message: to avenge at any cost. The initial act of murder, Claudius poisoning his brother Hamlet, has an immense effect on the lives and actions of those close to him. Hamlet's wife, Gertrude, rushes into a shotgun wedding, Hamlet Jr. becomes depressed, Claudius is given the throne, and the ghost of Hamlet comes back to tell his son to seek revenge on his murderer. Each resulting death is tied in one way or another to Claudius's initial act of violence on his own brother, revealing the deadly implications of murder. One death ultimately resulted in the slaughter of over half of the characters, which does seem a tad overdone, but nonetheless it makes known Shakespeare's beliefs about murder and accordingly its effects.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-4400346465829516842?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/4400346465829516842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=4400346465829516842' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4400346465829516842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4400346465829516842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/he-who-hesitates-one-to-many-death.html' title='He Who Hesitates... One to many (death)'/><author><name>Juliette.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03646216716946626854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-4091630622135392365</id><published>2009-03-01T09:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T10:01:28.731-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Keeping it real- #2</title><content type='html'>There is much acting in this play to the extent that I do not know who was actually "keeping it real". First there is the king who acts as if he did nothing even when Hamlet confronts him with "the mouse trap" play. which brings me to Hamlet himself, he acts as if he is mad but for good reason, as said by someone his "cunning madness", so out of anybody i think Hamlet is keeping it real the most, even though he didn't act upon his feelings for the most part.... (still haven't finished the play). As for his mother, the Queen, she just plays dumb the whole time as if she did nothing wrong which to me is ridiculous that one person can keep it so fake. Also there is Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, they act as if they are Hamlet's close friends but then turn around and deliver a letter which they think says to kill Hamlet.... they couldn't have been more mislead. Then there is Polonius, he was creeping around in the Queen's curtains... not keeping it real at all, he got stabbed, he had it coming. Don't get me wrong however, there were defiantly some characters in the play who kept it real but they were perfect examples of "when keeping it real goes wrong", Ophelia, went crazy, and her brother gets his shit rocked by Hamlet but at least they were keeping it real. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-4091630622135392365?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/4091630622135392365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=4091630622135392365' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4091630622135392365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4091630622135392365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/03/keeping-it-real-2.html' title='Keeping it real- #2'/><author><name>will</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-6426659195559943228</id><published>2009-02-28T18:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T19:07:52.511-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Death</title><content type='html'>Shakespeare finds such value in the use of death and tragedy in his plays. Therefore, he uses this as a theme for most of his plays. When we read about the death involved in the play there are many different types. For example, some are related to rage and aggression whereas some relate to sadness. When Hamlet kills polonius, it is out of anger, but it also happens to be an accident. The way Shakespeare uses death really helps out the play. Hamlet as a character is set out to kill the king and has an opportunity to, but he just flakes out. It seems that the more important the character, the more they find the need to kill. Laertes is upset with Hamlet for killing his father so he feels the need to avenge it. That shows that death is of great importance for the characters. In Romeo and Juliet, juliet pretended to be dead so that they could be together. Since Romeo thinks Juliet is dead he kills himself. What is the importance of this death, to the characters? It makes the characters the way they are. Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy because of death, Hamlet could also be considered a tragedy because it focuses on the importance of death. The deaths in Hamlet are based off each other. Hamlet wants to kill the king because he killed his father. Hamlet accidentally kills Polonius thinking that it was the king. Leartes wants to kill Hamlet because of his father. Ophelia just goes crazy because of all that happens and kills herself. Death in this play seems to be mocked in certain cases, instead of oh no tragedy. For example, when the sword fight at the end happens they mean to kill Hamlet with the poisioned drink, but instead kill the queen. That does not really seem like a sad death for the queen, just for the king. The audience just kind of feels that's what the king deserves for trying to kill Hamlet. Ophelia kills  herself because of insanity. It seems that Shakespeare creates the sadness of death through her character. Ophelia as a character only suffers because she cannot be with her lover Hamlet. Her father is killed by her lover which in turn creates more sadness, which eventually ends in the suicide. The suicide in the play, is where the tragedy comes in. Shakespeare writes suicide in his plays to put out the idea of suffering as an individual. Most of his characters suffer from their overall surroundings and situations put in front of them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-6426659195559943228?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/6426659195559943228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=6426659195559943228' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6426659195559943228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6426659195559943228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/death.html' title='Death'/><author><name>TJT</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14045409370448972379</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-18427868149979609</id><published>2009-02-28T14:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T17:59:33.658-08:00</updated><title type='text'>JZ's response to # 5</title><content type='html'>Hamlet, the character, has received much flak for his supposed inability to act.  While this criticism may hold some merit, critics must remember that this is a play.  If Hamlet were to murder Claudius immediately after the ghost informed him of Claudius' deed, well that would effectively remove a bulk of the play.  What would happen to the drama?  The plot?  Suspense?  Shakespeare was endeavoring to engender a play that would entertain the audience.  Sometimes this entails some unrealistic actions.  I am alright with this phenomenon as long as it keeps me in suspense.  In addition, critics also must remember that Hamlet is delaying his actions because he is trying to perform such a deed in a purposeful, effective, reasonable, and satisfying manner.  To act or not to act is heavily pending rational considerations, such as absolute certainty, or whether or not to effectively send Claudius to heaven, by murdering him during prayer.  Considering the former rational consideration, murdering Claudius without just cause would result in, as Walker mentioned, incredible turmoil throughout the kingdom.  In addition, murdering without justification would send Hamlet to hell and devastate Gertrude.  COntinuing on the note of certainty, which seems to be a rather prominent theme throughout the play, Hamlet needs conviction, because it was a ghost that told him of the murder.  Ghosts are mythical and fictitious beings.  Although Hamlet is feigning madness, we are given evidence that he might indeed be going a tad insane, (I definitely feel so) and therevfore, imagining a ghost is entirely plausible.   Perhaps the ghost was a figment of Hamlet's conscience, and was simply misleading him.  Therefore, Hamlet would truly need evidence.  (however, some of the guards also saw the ghost, and we later gain evidence confirming Claudius' deed, both of which undermines everything I just said)  However, also like I previously mentioned, this is indeed a play, and is intended to amuse, so such events are plausible.  Ultimately though, Hamlet does indeed kill Claudius, but at a steep price: his life.  Could it be that Shakespeare is suggesting that had Hamlet acted earlier he could have circumnavigated the ramifications?  Or could it be that Shakespeare feels that absolute certainty should always be a priority.  Perhaps the longing for a sense of certainty is the proverbial spark that keeps humans searching and living.  Like we discussed earlier in the year, humans read novels because books are rife with connections and meaning.   The meaning creates certainty, which seems to be something humans are longing for.  I feel that humans are inherently conservative creatures, and tend to act out of certainty, as opposed to hesitation.  (i.e. Hamlet)  This lack of conviction ultimately results in hesitation, for better or worse.  Many argue that it isn't very intellectually rigorous to say that the answer truly depends on the scenario.  I wholeheartedly disagree.  IN many cases answers are truly pending.  However, in this very situation hesitation did result in death for our protagonist.  Whether or not Shakespeare was insinuating at this theme, well, I cannot say.  I for one say that he who hesitates might be lost in some cases, but not others.  I feel that being impulsive is better in some cases, and being hesitant is better in others.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-18427868149979609?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/18427868149979609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=18427868149979609' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/18427868149979609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/18427868149979609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/jzs-response-to-5.html' title='JZ&apos;s response to # 5'/><author><name>Joshua Zieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04963470609115246147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-7303911853758156732</id><published>2009-02-27T07:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T07:53:29.460-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hamlet Responce</title><content type='html'>Considering it is one of the Classics of literature, Hamlet left me with several serious question.  For one, why did Learities forgive Hamlet!  He had no need to.  Polonious had not killed Hamlets father.  Polonious had not acted against Hamlet in a spiteful way.  Yet Laerities finds it in his heart to make amends with Hamlet?  What literary bullshit.  If that was me I would have been so pissed.  The guy remorselessly kills my father, torments my sister to suicide, and destroys the peace at home.  I would never find it in my heart to forgive him because of, well, being a "distraught soul" or something like that.&lt;br /&gt;Second, why o why would Hamlet endorse Fortinbras to be King of Denmark?  Is this really necessary?  After an entire play of Hamlet striving to avenge his father and follow his wishes, he lets the old King's greatest enemy take the throne that was rightfully his?  Hamlet, what are you doing?  Cmon man show some consistency.&lt;br /&gt;Third, the Roman names in Denmark.  Really? Shakespeare? Really?&lt;br /&gt;Fourth, Why did Claudius balk at the long oratory of the play rather than the much more graphic dumb play?  I mean...the murder was enacted on stage an Claudius couldn't pick up on it, but he grasps the notion in dialog?  Actors, is this your fault?&lt;br /&gt;Fifth, the killing of Rosencratz and Gildenstern are ridiculous.  The letter part was cool, but would the English just kill two men at the advice of a rival King's letter?  Furthermore, why did they send people all the way to Denmark to collect pay?  The deal should have sounded fishy from the start.&lt;br /&gt;Sixth, and this only applies to the movie.  Black and Asian Generals?  Really?  I'm not racist or anything but dude, the only place whiter than Denmark is Austin Radford.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-7303911853758156732?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/7303911853758156732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=7303911853758156732' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7303911853758156732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7303911853758156732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/hamlet-responce.html' title='Hamlet Responce'/><author><name>!MWS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04525674589719630293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-7504092089182115385</id><published>2009-02-26T17:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T18:20:44.978-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hesitation is Indeed a Vice, Maybe Not</title><content type='html'>One may criticize Hamlet for his hesitation and constant procrastination in regard to carrying out his revenge for his father. However, one must also remember what this revenge is. Hamlet's revenge constitutes killing the newly-elected King, who also happens to be his Uncle. Killing a King is an arduous and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;daunting&lt;/span&gt; task because it has the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;possibility&lt;/span&gt; of bringing pain and suffering to the perpetrator. On top of the fact that Hamlet is to kill a King, he must keep in mind that the King is also a family member and is dearly loved by his mother. If he does kill the King, he will bring sorrow to his mother and will bring hell upon himself. One can see that Hamlet has a lot of information to think about before executing such an act. This accounts for and explains his hesitation. Anyone would be hesitant in killing a person in the first place, but to kill a King is a much more frightening task. Of course Hamlet is going to dawdle due to fear and confusion over what to do. He has been approached by a ghost of his father for god's sake. What is he supposed to glean from that interaction? I think that Hamlet's hesitation and inability to act is most certainly well-founded when one observes the circumstances.&lt;br /&gt;However, there are many problems with hesitating with decisions. One must decide what to do and follow through with it, or else consequences could follow or your opportunity will cease to exist. Shakespeare makes a statement of this by killing off everyone. Most of these deaths, if not all, can be attributed to Hamlet's inability to act. If he had killed Claudius immediately after talking to the ghost of his father, none of these other terrible acts would have occured. Ophelia would be alive and in love with Hamlet, as would her brother, father, and Hamlet's mother. Hamlet, understandably so, wastes time, however, and sets this series of unfortunate events in motion. Hamlet does eventually succeed in his task however. He does pay a price, his own life, to achieve this goal. Could it have been avoided had he acted earlier? Most likely yes. There would have been the possiblity of repercusions for killing the King, but Hamlet most likely would have found a way around that.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps Shakespeare is making a statement about inaction, saying that it leads to worse things than decisions made quickly, and possibly in haste. However, at the same time, I feel that Hamlet's inaction was completely justified considering what he was dealing with. I think either way, consequences would have taken place. Shakespeare may also be making a statement in saying that too much thinking can lead to problems. He may be trying to get the message across to simply make a decision, and once that decision is made, act upon it. I still feel that bad events would have occured had Hamlet killed Claudius immediately. Shakespeare may be trying to show that it's best to make a decision, and when that decision is made, to act carefully upon it. Your actions need to be the well-thought out parts of the whole affair. Your thoughts should go either one way or the other. It is all quite confusing and I'm not sure I see a clear relationship or point Shakespeare is trying to show.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-7504092089182115385?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/7504092089182115385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=7504092089182115385' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7504092089182115385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7504092089182115385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/hesitation-is-indeed-vice-maybe-not.html' title='Hesitation is Indeed a Vice, Maybe Not'/><author><name>Walker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06818906924884034575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-7796829555347635626</id><published>2009-02-26T15:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T15:57:51.176-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Madness</title><content type='html'>In Shakespeare's play, Hamlet pretends to be crazy, but in actuality, his prattling and raving really has rhyme AND reason to it. I think in his madness, he's trying to insult everyone who supports Claudius by insulting their intelligence. Polonious tends to be the butt of most of his insults, which Polonious can follow, while he cannot understand.  &lt;div&gt;Not only this, but he can string his words together in such a way that they make a subtle kind of sense. He talks a lot about the mask that men wear to appear innocent when they have something to hide. He speaks of "words" that hide what someone is, such as Claudius's words are thick with deceit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ophelia, on the other hand, has no rhyme nor reason to her crazy rants. There is no pattern of any kind; she simply talks....okay actually, maybe there is some: she does talk about the betrayal of Hamlet, the one she loved...but it's in such a random way that it seems inconsistent. No one but the audience or the reader would really understand her. We know she is sad about her father, and hurt by Hamlet, but it's almost impossible to tell due to her jumbled words and crazy actions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-7796829555347635626?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/7796829555347635626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=7796829555347635626' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7796829555347635626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7796829555347635626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/madness.html' title='Madness'/><author><name>Hannah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14679408064821039648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ADViTw13HBk/Sp6Z7KVmVcI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/_l41V2Np9QA/S220/dream+wolf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-5918486234019900942</id><published>2009-02-16T14:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T14:17:47.448-08:00</updated><title type='text'>--Hamlet--</title><content type='html'>To come to find that a close friend had been spying on you would be demeaning. A friend is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;supposed&lt;/span&gt; to be someone that you trusted, and to find that they have been invading your personal &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;boundaries&lt;/span&gt; and spying on you would be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;belittling&lt;/span&gt;. As for what I would do to the friend, I would most likely confront them about it, and then carry on with my life in a more sheltered way. For example, being more &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;in tune&lt;/span&gt; with my surroundings and cautious of my actions. Moreover, if a friend of mine had been spying on me, it would greatly limit our friendship. You are &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;supposed&lt;/span&gt; to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;be able&lt;/span&gt; to instill your trust in your friends, and imposing on your personal life, such as spying would be breaking that trust. On the other hand, I would have to question why and to what extent they had been spying on me. If it was for the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;benefit&lt;/span&gt; of others or themselves I would be freaked out, and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;probably&lt;/span&gt; not carry on with the friendship. On the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;other hand&lt;/span&gt; however, if they were doing it somehow to my benefit, such as &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;ensuring&lt;/span&gt; my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;safety&lt;/span&gt; (which would also be weird) then I would not be so enraged. All in all, friends should have no reason to spy, yet if they did it would &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;defiantly&lt;/span&gt; put a limiting factor on our friendship.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-5918486234019900942?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/5918486234019900942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=5918486234019900942' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5918486234019900942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5918486234019900942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/hamlet.html' title='--Hamlet--'/><author><name>Amy Knight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12631447322871813068</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-6819577050693964640</id><published>2009-02-16T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T10:50:12.307-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It would not be so hard to go crazy. To just let go; to quit living by conventions. In some ways, it is harder sane. It would be so much more free to strip yourself of all of your inhibitions, to say what you wished to say whether it is true or not, to act how your sentiments moved you, to go places for no other reason than to get lost. Being insane would not be so sad if it were voluntary. You would have no obligations. The world would run according to your clock. It may require a little fabrication. You may have to exercise your mind to stretch to unprecedented levels of fiction, but that would be your only job. You would not be prisoner to Society or convention.  You could sing in the park, you could wear clothes or not, you could refuse to make phone calls, you could dream without going to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;I have a feeling, however, that this pretend psychosis may have the same result as real insanity. When friends start to abandon you, or only visit on occasion; when you are stuck in this world of invention and you wish only to ground yourself in something real; when the game of playing the crazy person looses its lust. This may not be so free any more. You have forgotten how to behave, and how not to behave. You may grow sick of finding yourself amongst vegetables and the real insane. Insanity would not be so easy to escape as it would be to enter. At least when you really are crazy, you don’t know that you are. In a world of fake madness your thoughts are always tempted by the knowledge that this is all a front that you could shake it off if you wanted to- you could go back to normal. But you could not. You would be questioned why you would do such a thing, why you would attempt the impersonation, if you were not, infact, mentally imbalanced. Pretending insanity would be the greatest irony.It would be the emptiest fulfillment. It would be the most depressed hapiness.   It would be the most free prison.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-6819577050693964640?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/6819577050693964640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=6819577050693964640' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6819577050693964640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6819577050693964640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/it-would-not-be-so-hard-to-go-crazy.html' title=''/><author><name>HannahSmith</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11936181026700885564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-5391528417460115613</id><published>2009-02-09T20:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T20:19:27.637-08:00</updated><title type='text'>father</title><content type='html'>If I came back from a summer and found out that my father was dead I would be terrified, and of course I would have about a thousand questions running through my mind.  If my mom was already married though I would be so angry.  I would be pissed that I didnt know about him because I would feel like my opinion did not matter to her.  I would also wonder how she had moved on so quickly; especially if the man that she married was a jerk.  I guess I might think that he was a threat to the family.  Like maybe the only reason that she married her was because he threatened to do something to her if she didnt? I bet, though, that if all of that had happened so fast, and someone told me that me new stepfather was the one that killed my real dad, I would have no reason to not believe it.  I would want people to know, I mean heck, if I hate the guy for ruining my family, I would do everything in my power to find out how and when he did it, and prove it so that the guy would go to jail.  But I bet that if i could not prove it, but i did find out that it was true, and I was so mad, I would probably kill him.  If a guy killed my dad, he wouldn't deserve to live.  I know that I would get concequences, but I could live. &lt;br /&gt;I am really excited to read this and watch this. I think that it is going to be really intreguing and sonething that will be really fun and make me think.  yay &lt;em&gt;Hamlet.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-5391528417460115613?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/5391528417460115613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=5391528417460115613' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5391528417460115613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5391528417460115613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/father.html' title='father'/><author><name>Nicole Goldsworthy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00590252271950056032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-1887912894521199086</id><published>2009-02-09T18:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T18:28:24.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pre-reading Hamlet</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;What would it fell like to return home after being away for the summer to discover that your father is dead?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no one more important to me than my Dad. I couldn't even begin to imagine what it would feel like to come back and have him not be here. Everyone goes through phases with death, and everyone handles it different. First there is shock, you don't believe it when your told. Second there is denial, you continue to refuse that it has actually happened, you start making excuses. Third is sadness, an entire time of depression. Fourth is anger and blame, you hate when people tell you sorry or even bring it up and truly think it is someone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;elses&lt;/span&gt; fault. Fifth is acceptance, you never get over it, you just accept it. I am curious to see how the character in &lt;em&gt;Hamlet&lt;/em&gt; copes with his loss. &lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What would it fell like if your mother had already remarried?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you think it would feel like... I would truly be disgusted by my mother. I am also excited to see how this will play out. It sounds like an interesting plot after reading the prompt questions and I am actually looking forward to reading it, a huge improvement for me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-1887912894521199086?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/1887912894521199086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=1887912894521199086' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1887912894521199086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1887912894521199086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/pre-reading-hamlet.html' title='Pre-reading Hamlet'/><author><name>Katie Mallard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10638328526380005227</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-1410127595554858254</id><published>2009-02-09T17:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T17:59:10.232-08:00</updated><title type='text'>if my stepfather killed my father</title><content type='html'>If I came home one summer to find that my father was dead and that my mom remarried that would be one thing, but if I came home to find that my mom married my Dad's murderer I would be furious. I would confront both my mother and my stepfather about the situation. How could you live in the same house as your fathers killer. How could you willingly let your stepfather live at your house and sleep in the same bed as your mother. How could your mother be so oblivious as to agree to marry the murderer of her husband. Where did she meet this man, and why is she so willing to marry him? What a terrible situation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-1410127595554858254?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/1410127595554858254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=1410127595554858254' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1410127595554858254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1410127595554858254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/if-my-stepfather-killed-my-father.html' title='if my stepfather killed my father'/><author><name>Danny</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05432813289745605461</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-7856868898229567406</id><published>2009-02-09T16:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T17:10:40.067-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do You Think I'm Insane?</title><content type='html'>Being insane and pretending to be insane, draws a fine line on how far you can extend your current reality. The true questions is not actually how to be a believable insane, but it revolves more around how insane you can make people believe your insane before actually becoming insane. To act as a justifiable "crazy" person, without becoming engulfed by a real insanity, one must remove all insecurities and forget about the norms of society.&lt;br /&gt;When pretending to be insane all raw emotions must be laid out on the table. You must show people how you really feel without caring about how they feel. You must react violently with your emotions and make rash decisions. Insane people are ignorant about how to act in the "real world," they are who they are without any hidden personalities.&lt;br /&gt;Insanity means refusing to act the way society expects. You could perform acts considered innapropriate and a violation of normal conduct. For instance, screaming and kicking could be one approach while mumbling and walking around in your robe represents a different kind of insane. To be a believable insane you must first decided what kind of insane you are going to be. Are you going to be a loud, unreasonable insane? Or are you going to mumble and walk around like a misguided fool? Or are you going to invent some imaginary scenario and claim for it to be true? To be a justifiable insane without loosing control you must think outside the box and step away from your real personality while watching from afar the person you have become. You cannot get too involved with the insane person you are trying to create or you may actually become insane.&lt;br /&gt;To pretend to be insane, is a game that one must play with the mind without succumbing to the true nature of insanity. To be a pysdoinsano one must choose the "kind" of insane they wish to be and then initiate that type of acting, while separating their "saneness" from their personal emulation of insanity.&lt;br /&gt;This entire passage sounds like it is boarding the limits of insanity...&lt;br /&gt;*Please don't count this as late because I was absent on Friday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-7856868898229567406?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/7856868898229567406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=7856868898229567406' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7856868898229567406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7856868898229567406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/do-you-think-im-insane.html' title='Do You Think I&apos;m Insane?'/><author><name>Maddie Crowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14005367734524519930</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-3394821893667790972</id><published>2009-02-09T09:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T09:48:11.751-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mission Impossible</title><content type='html'>If I returned home from travelling over the summer, only to discover that my father died, I would be mortified, heartbroken, and above all else I would feel betrayed by my mom.  My trust would have been further betrayed if I discovered that my mom had deliberately gone behind my back by withholding the information of my dad’s death as well as marrying a complete nutcase without my approval.  If this said stepfather furthered the hurt by becoming prime suspect #1 involving the death of my father and taking over my family’s money, I would probably snap.  The snapping process would include a public display of embarrassment, resulting in all my friends and family believing I have gone completely bonkers from grief and stress.  Since the public assumes my insanity, my first step would be to work with the persona and see how far it gets me.  My next step to making my stepfather confess to his treachery would be to gather a group of rabble rousers, including people with strange talents and a few friends that think my insanity is amusing.  I would then attempt to pull a renaissance mission impossible with gossip and subtle manipulating through social/business networking.  After my stepdad feels the pressure from the forces at work crumbling the structures from beneath him, then I would make my move.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-3394821893667790972?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/3394821893667790972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=3394821893667790972' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3394821893667790972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3394821893667790972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/mission-impossible.html' title='Mission Impossible'/><author><name>Evan T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02914905542070487522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-1092370909267099974</id><published>2009-02-08T23:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T23:18:36.494-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Away... Unknown Death</title><content type='html'>After a summer of being away, to return home and find out my father was dead would be devastating.  Not only would I be emotionally torn and absolutely out of words to describe the pain of losing a father, but the fact that no one had told me!  They would claim they didn’t want to ruin my summer plans so they would wait… well waiting didn’t always seem to solve all these problems.  I would walk off the plane, the bus, the train from the summer that had given me knowledge and wisdom.  Maybe I was returning from a camp back east or from my cousins on the west coast. None the less, growing on my own and the challenges of the summer were offering me a new sense of pride and independence.  I wanted to go home and show them all what I was made of… until I stepped down to the ground and they were there with their long faces and black clothing.  Not many people, just a few close relatives, but the instant shock of knowing something was wrong would radiate from their eyes and sting me like the tail of a sting-ray.  My curiosity, my worry, my anticipation of the worst would stop me in my tracks until I put the pieces together; who was missing?  He was. Why was he missing?  General assumption: he’s dead… this time not so much of just an assumption.  When they could tell I knew one of them ran to me and put my head on their shoulder.  My heart dropped down through the floor, hitting the cold, earthy ground below the station.  The world stopped.  Every other person scrambling home after summer holidays had something joyous to look forward to, memories to caress and share, and time to spend with loved ones.  I had this; a shit of a situation with the loss of my father.  Granted, things could have been worse but the black clothes seeped forever into my imagination and the heavy weight of my feet and the strange dryness in my eyes worried me and made me angry.  “why didn’t you tell me!” I would scream… “why did I not deserve to know!”  I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t laugh, I couldn’t focus on anything beside the last moment I saw him, at the same station, just months before. Then life had been full, complete… now, it was void, lost, pointless.  Now… I would distill in me a feeling or sorrow and remorse for never knowing really what happened and how I felt.  All I would know is that I want him back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-1092370909267099974?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/1092370909267099974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=1092370909267099974' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1092370909267099974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1092370909267099974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/summer-away-unknown-death.html' title='Summer Away... Unknown Death'/><author><name>Kenya</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07092978049424763159</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-8927002436874515730</id><published>2009-02-08T20:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T21:52:43.724-08:00</updated><title type='text'>JZ's thoughts concerning various prompts</title><content type='html'>To begin, I will say I would obviously be irate if I was put in the same scenario that Hamlet encountered.  If discovering that your father has died isn't brutal enough (take it from me, it is harrowing), having a corrupt step father is simply the proverbial icing on the cake.  I would conduct myself in a manner similar to what Prince Hamlet did, for what else can one do?  I, howver, would do one thing differently from Hamlet: I wouldn't wait for my father's ghost to tell me that my step father murdered him.  If I even had the slightest inkling of my step father's deed, I would murder him.  In such a situation, I would probably be so full of rage that I would be highly inclined to murder the stepfather.  If I did need sufficient evidence that my stepfather killed my own father to assume the thrown, I would (thanks to the advent of modern technology), use a lie detector test.  Actually, it might be rather difficult to get the stepfather to subject himself to such a test, so I think that I would proceed with the aforementioned murdering.  The ideal situation for me, however, would be if I could somehow expose my stepfather's foul deed to the public.  Therefore, the public could join me in contempt for the awful man.  If the entire public were irate, there is no possible way that my stepfather could conceivably keep his thrown or life.  As for the last prompt, I must say that my anger towards my spying friend definitely depends on the scenario.  In all cases, I would lost a ton of respect towards my friend.  I don't think I would be too pissed at my friend if he were spying on me regarding something trivial like high school drama, but I would view him in a new light.  I would think he were leading a somewhat frivolous life that lacks substance.  Truly, I feel it speaks volumes about a person when they would go as far as to spy on someone to obtain information about something as, like I said, high school gossip.  If, however, my friend were spying on me to obtain more serious info, such as, dunno, my SS# or important passwords, etc.I would be more angry.  In which case, I would determine the punishment by the severity of their actions.  IN brief, I would choose my course of action depending on the reasons for my friends espionage.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-8927002436874515730?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/8927002436874515730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=8927002436874515730' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8927002436874515730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8927002436874515730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/jzs-thoughts-concerning-various-prompts.html' title='JZ&apos;s thoughts concerning various prompts'/><author><name>Joshua Zieve</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04963470609115246147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-5848936947762617557</id><published>2009-02-08T15:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T16:35:33.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends who Spy</title><content type='html'>If I found out that one of my friends was spying on me I would be pretty pissed to say the least. At first I would be very skeptical as to why they were spying on me, and probably would not talk to them for a while. However once I moved on from the initial pissed off stage, I would confront my friend as to why he/she felt it necessary to spy on me. If it were for a legitimate reason, like checking on me to make sure I wasn't in danger, or such things like that; it would be a lot easier for me to forgive her for being a concerned friend and would actually be sort of flattered that someone cares enough to spy on me (creepy as that may sound). However if she was spying on me for a petty selfish reason, like trying to find things to blackmail me with, then I would not be able to forgive her, and would probably question if she were a true friend or not. Either way it would easily become a very sticky situation no matter how it's handled, either I would have a very close dear friend who is generally concerned about me and was only trying to help, or this so called friend has other motives then just to be my friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-5848936947762617557?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/5848936947762617557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=5848936947762617557' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5848936947762617557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5848936947762617557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/friends-who-spy.html' title='Friends who Spy'/><author><name>Tarja Berry</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16140754260721427843</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-2815083565053208193</id><published>2009-02-08T14:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T15:10:25.678-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spying Friends</title><content type='html'>So... if I found out that one of my close friends was spying on me, at first I'm pretty sure I'd feel betrayed. But who wouldn't? Then, after the initial shock and bewilderment passed, I'd ask myself why? Why would one of my friends want to spy on me? Is it because they're looking out for me? Just trying to help me out? Or is it to find out who I hang out with? What I do on my free time? Plotting to kill me? Ha - If I found they were doing it in my interests, say to prevent me from getting hurt or something along those lines, I think I could forgive them. I mean, it still isn't right but, I would respect and appreciate what they were trying to do. The thing is, if I didn't know why, I shouldn't assume that it's to hurt me. I mean, like most anybody, I probably would assume the worst just in case but the optimism in me would want to believe a close friend would have a very defensible, good reason for doing it. On the other hand, if I found out it was happening because they wanted to get to me, say injure a family member or do something bad to another friend, I'd be pissed. Most likely, I'd spy on the back - find out why they'd want to do such a thing. Also, when talking to them, I'd drop subtle hints implying that I know and see how the react and try and find out more about their motives. At the end of the day, I'd probably just feel baffled and sad, with a lot of anger mixed in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-2815083565053208193?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/2815083565053208193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=2815083565053208193' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2815083565053208193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2815083565053208193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/spying-friends.html' title='Spying Friends'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04539737467618060257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-2108725378290094782</id><published>2009-02-08T11:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T11:29:58.945-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ponderings about Hamlet</title><content type='html'>So...what would happen if I was gone the entire summer and my dad had died? Hm...well, I think I could in later times understand why my mom hadn't told me: maybe she would have thought that it would hurt less if I found out so long after it had happened. Maybe she herself needed to grasp it; I mean, in that situation, it isn't just me who lost someone - I lost a father, but my mother lost a friend, a lover, a soulmate, a companion...Of course I'd be angry. I think I'd hurt more too, knowing that my dad had died three or four months before I knew....oh yeah, I would definetly hurt more.&lt;br /&gt;No, no what would really piss me off is if my mom decided to remarry without telling me. I mean, I'd hope it was just a rebound thing, you know? Like, she married some guy so that she wouldn't have to be alone...but why wouldn't she tell me? Wouldn't she want me to know? Maybe she thinks that by not telling me, she's protecting me...and also, without my voice in her head, then she wouldn't have to question her actions.&lt;br /&gt;Hard questions...glad I don't actually have to face them (knock on wood)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And please: acting crazy really isn't that hard. Acting crazy would require having no previous experience of being crazy, yes? But if you're already crazy, well...you get my point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-2108725378290094782?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/2108725378290094782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=2108725378290094782' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2108725378290094782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2108725378290094782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/ponderings-about-hamlet.html' title='Ponderings about Hamlet'/><author><name>Hannah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14679408064821039648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='27' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ADViTw13HBk/Sp6Z7KVmVcI/AAAAAAAAAAQ/_l41V2Np9QA/S220/dream+wolf.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-2542816042179915916</id><published>2009-02-08T10:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T10:44:23.765-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why my father?</title><content type='html'>The chain of events I am responding to: returning home after summer away to find my father dead, my mother remarried, her new husband taking over my father's business, and then having reason to believe my stepfather murdered my father.&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;First of all, I would be incredibly pissed off if no one had filled me in during the summer. To not be told, especially if they thought "it was for the best" and thought they were protecting me. Then coming home to some stranger living in my house and married to my mother who is supposed to be grieving after losing her husband would further my anger. This would also spark confusion on why had my mother so readily let go of her new life and began one without even mentioning a single aspect of it to me until she had no choice (when I returned home after summer). Maybe this man isn't so bad after all, I would try and give him a chance. Get to know him, especially because I would be living with him until I graduated, an entire year. But as soon as he thought he had a right to assume my father's job and business affairs, he would have crossed the line. He is not entitled to the success my father created from scratch just because he married my mother. If he was a "crazed lowlife" I would be afraid of him ruining my father's company and running it into the ground because of his lack of experience. As soon as I had reason to believe he took my father's life, he would be in for it. I would gather evidence but in private and secretly. If any adult found out, they would most likely contact my mother and make me attend counseling. They would say I was just grieving in my own way and was paranoid about my stepfather. It would all make sense to me. The murder to get my father out of the way, marrying his love (my mother), taking over his hardest work (his company), and finally he would silence me. He would soon realize that I knew everything. This would drive him to pay one of my close friends to spy on me. The final step before getting me out of the way. The only part I would not understand until there were more specifics would be why? Why my father and my family? Is he being paid by someone else? The past? Did something happen before I can remember? What is propelling him?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-2542816042179915916?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/2542816042179915916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=2542816042179915916' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2542816042179915916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2542816042179915916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/why-my-father.html' title='Why my father?'/><author><name>Mackenzie Bronson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05148585348159474448</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-6234938552078958621</id><published>2009-02-07T12:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T12:15:39.624-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Only if i HAD too</title><content type='html'>If i HAD to make everyone think i was insane... Well I asked my dad what he would do.  And he said that if he HAD to make everyone think he was insane he would eat his Fecal matter.  Now just the fact that he thought of something so disguising makes me question his sanity.  Which i guess is the point. However i have a different stand point on it.  I if i HAD to make people think i was insane I would go Sweeney Todd status on everyone.  Randomly breaking out into songs while hiding a huge secrete that no sane person would understand.  Imagine for a second if you were sitting in class and all of a sudden someone in your grade breaks out into song.  Then takes the teacher away and you never see the teacher again, but had some great meat pies for lunch.  Ya i would say that person was truly insane.  However at this point I think my own father might truly be insane.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-6234938552078958621?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/6234938552078958621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=6234938552078958621' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6234938552078958621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6234938552078958621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/only-if-i-had-too.html' title='Only if i HAD too'/><author><name>Athena Budge</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-625256203388692287</id><published>2009-02-07T10:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T11:03:16.442-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Crazy"</title><content type='html'>Were I to pretend going mad, I would undoubtedly have fun.  Seeing as this world preaches conformity with such conviction, the opportunity to be crazy would be refreshing and healthy.  Yet doing so would be an art, for convincing insanity is not easy to pull off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I would stop wearing clothes normally.  Nothing drastic, just enough to isolate me from the rest of my fashion concious peers.  Thing like Turtle necks that are too small, and blazers that are too big would kick off the change nicely.  Overalls would also be a nice addition, seeing as no one wears them unless they are drunk or inbred in West Virginia. (no offence)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, I would stat bringing strange lunches to school.  Uncooked bacon that I would seem suprised I was unalowed to grill at school, or slices of cellery that I would pull apart and eat strand by strand.  Maybe I could even bring normal food, and simply eat is oddly.  Bring Chicken Noodle Soup and put the ingrediantes: noodles, carrots, chicked, etc, into seperate containers before eating them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third, stares.  Not normal school "space out" stares at the board, teacher, or that new girl who is pretty sharp, nah, leave those to the sane people.  I will take the wild stares, the stares directed towards, perhaps, the cover of my American History textbook with a simultaneous humming of "O Canada", or maybe staring at the Apple logo on a Mac book, and tapping it constantly as if it were a broken button.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fourth, this is the real piece du resistance.  Schedule.  Practicing Hockey at the outdoor ing from 4 Am to 8Am, Playing hopschooch with the elementary schoolers while they are at reces (atleast untill I get a restraining order", then a full english tea.  This would be followed by making a trip to the flower store, buying a host of roses, then handing them out to people cross country skiing for 45 minuts.  Each day I would also have to meet a series of quotas.  Propose to one girl, and one dog. Give either Juniper or one of his friends a clearly handmade "citizen of the year" award every day.  It is this final step that secures my insanity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-625256203388692287?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/625256203388692287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=625256203388692287' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/625256203388692287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/625256203388692287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/crazy.html' title='&quot;Crazy&quot;'/><author><name>!MWS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04525674589719630293</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-1287440061966692501</id><published>2009-02-07T09:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:55:33.171-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I hope this never happens to me!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;If I had returned from a summer trip to find that my father had passed away my first feeling would be extreme sadness.  I would be mad at myself after the initial shock wore off.  I would be mad if I left my father and he had passed away, even if it was unexpected.  I feel that my life would be greatly affected by me not being able to say goodbye.  I hope that never happens. After the death of my father, if my mother remarried to a low life who took over my fathers affairs and claimed his success I would be furious! First of I would be enraged with anger at my mother for remarrying so soon to such a loser.  I would first have to talk to my mother and try to convince her to leave this awful man.  With respect to my father, I would try to do everything I could to maintain his reputation and get his business back into the "real" family. I would make a plot to try to make this man look bad in front of the community and show everyone what he really was, a horrible. man!  In order to make this happen I would have to gain his trust, even though it would not be real and then expose to my mother first what he is really doing.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;If I wanted to make people believe I was insane, there are some things I can think of, even though I am kind of already a little crazy.  In order for people to truly believe that I was insane, I would have to have the people closest to me in life believe that I was insane.  First I would say things out of no where that don't have any relevancy or make any sense.  I would have to talk to myself and not perform the same hobbies I usually do.  Instead I would pick up some weird hobby like making a ton of bird-houses or something else that  I would never do.  The last step to making people believe I am crazy is to truly act insane.  I could do this by eating grass or running around all over the place.  This would draw a lot of attention and if I saw someone acting this way I would definitely think that they were insane.  Being very seclusive would also be a very important step in making people believe that I was insane.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(204, 51, 204);"&gt;If I found out that one of my friends had been spying on me I would be confused and disturbed.  I would want to know how long they had been spying on me for and why they were doing it. The trust in that relationship would be completely destroyed and I would question everything that that person and I had experienced for real or fake.  The hardest part about that experience would be loosing a friend and also having that constant feeling of someone is watching me all of the time.  I would probably disconnect all communication with that person and be very conscious of people watching me.  I'm sure I would experience a sense of paranoia after that experience.  I would feel extremely violated and kind of creeped out after the whole spying situation.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-1287440061966692501?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/1287440061966692501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=1287440061966692501' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1287440061966692501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1287440061966692501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-hope-this-never-happens-to-me.html' title='I hope this never happens to me!!'/><author><name>dogs down under</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08604922048371759614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-4988302550001317364</id><published>2009-02-07T07:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T07:58:34.108-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Lowlife in the Family?</title><content type='html'>If my mom chose to remarry after loosing her husband, I would most likely support her decision and attempt to accept the new guy. The only exception would be if the man began to act as if he were an identical stand-in for my father. If I saw my father’s job and such being taken over by the new man, I would probably be pretty pissed and start to investigate more. I’d probably feel hateful towards him for trying to replicate my father, and I’d also be suspicious about whether he was only with my mother to increase his own worth through taking over my father’s affairs. Initially I would say something to my mother and find her opinion on the whole matter. Eventually, and regardless of whether my mother approved, I would bring the issue up with the new guy. I would ask him why he felt it necessary to take over &lt;em&gt;all&lt;/em&gt; of my father's affairs, most specifically, his money and his job. I would offer my assistance and express my intentions to handle my father's affairs, successes, and everything else. If the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;discussion&lt;/span&gt; proved unremitting and did not sway the asshole, I would immediately move to more drastic measures. Next would come legal threats, such as sueing the new man. If this proved futile, I would take the matter into my own hands, literally. I'd invent an ingenious way to murder the man, making sure I was not looked at as a suspect. The reason I would move to such intense consclusions would be out of complete and utter respect for my father. I would feel a need to honor his name and take revenge for him if his life was being mocked and tampered with by an insane lowlife. Even if I was caught and sent to prison, I'd feel that I had done my duty and carried out actions that honored my father. The only issue with this plan of attack would be the harm I would cause to my mother. If she truly loved the man, which I highly doubt she would, I wouldn't kill him. However, I would not sit back and watch him assume all of my father's positions. I would persuade him in other manners to resign from his post and allow me to take over. At the same time I would discuss the issue with my mom, and attempt to persuade &lt;em&gt;her&lt;/em&gt; that her new husband was a complete floozy who only wished to take over my father's posessions. Either way I would follow a route that respected both of my parents and caused the most harm to the stand-in. I would honor my mother's wishes and my father's memory and take what action I saw fit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-4988302550001317364?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/4988302550001317364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=4988302550001317364' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4988302550001317364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4988302550001317364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/new-lowlife-in-family.html' title='A New Lowlife in the Family?'/><author><name>Walker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06818906924884034575</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-5913598745573526929</id><published>2009-02-07T07:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T07:50:51.999-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So I'm kinda crazy...</title><content type='html'>Convincing someone else of your insanity would be an exciting, fun, and easy endeavor.  There are so many non-normal things that classify someone as insane, that even were that person to act normal again, they would still be regarded as crazy.  To be most effective, I would probably start off small. I'd begin to spend money on seemingly inconsequential things that didn't align at all with my personality, and I'd often squirrel it away into strange places with treasure maps leading me to it. I'd also add some strange twitches to my physical appearance.  I'd also begin to be more lackadaisical about my personal hygiene and appearance.  I would forgo showers, leave my hair in a mess, have bad breath, and sport wild red eyes.  I would twitch and jerk at the smallest sounds, and do the same for some imaginary sounds.  Then I would begin to talk to inanimate objects.  At first I would only speak to them, as if they didn't respond, but then I would begin to have conversations with them.  Anytime that I saw a lawn flamingo or gnome, I would squat down in front of it and go off in great length about the meaning of life, or the great depths of literature, until the concerned owner chased me away.  I'd make sure that I would always appear disheveled and confused in front of my victim and I'd often act as if they didn't exist, or that if they did, they were not important, and my conversations with trees, plants, and dogs was much more interesting.  I would often speak gibberish in public, and scratch myself in places deemed un-appropriate.  Once the person was fairly convinced that I was insane, or at least travelling on that path I would begin to have long strange stretches of silence, and imitate the effects of schizophrenia as seen in "A Beautiful Mind".  I would try my hardest to convince my friend that he or she wasn't real and neither was I, and I'd try to convince them that because of this we could fly, and do other impossible tasks, like lift buildings.  I would jump out of short windows with feathers taped to my arms, and lift lego structures all day long.  Though for a while this task could be quite fun and amusing, I am not sure what I would do after my friend was sure I was insane.  I would hope that they did not consign me to an asylum, and that I would one day be able to convince them once again of my sanity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-5913598745573526929?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/5913598745573526929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=5913598745573526929' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5913598745573526929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5913598745573526929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/so-im-kinda-crazy.html' title='So I&apos;m kinda crazy...'/><author><name>Kirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01696626305580944637</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-3418913148423458040</id><published>2009-02-06T11:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T11:20:27.837-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pre-Read Thoughts</title><content type='html'>What if you had the inclination that your stepfather murdered your real father?  Well the what ifs for that question range &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;substantially&lt;/span&gt;: what if you hated your father?  what if you loved your stepfather? what if it was an accident? what if your mother put him up to it? what if this all happened years ago and you are just now coming home to find this mess, yet it's already been cleaned up?  I'm going to say, inferring from the rest of the questions, that Hamlet loved his father, loves his mother, had a very happy family life before he departed, and although he's been gone, he's returned with enough grace time left that any undetermined business with his father's death and his mother's new marriage, can be uncovered and fixed.  If it were me?  Well then I'd try and prove that this new man in my mother's life is the reason that my father died.  Proof is necessary, as to not hurt my mother again.  No need to drag out the agony of her husband's death, again, if there is no need.  Once I have the proof, however, that my stepfather is in fact the murderer, I get vengeance.  I wouldn't use the court system, I would use my own determination and power to put my stepfather in his place.  Of course, we are assuming,  that I have a clique of friends that are at my side ready to battle.  Start with subtle black mail, keep bringing things that should remind him of the murder, into his daily life, so that he begins to feel guilty.  Once the guilt seems to be eating at him, start turning people against him.  Find relations like employers or golf buddies (we are assuming this is in my time period, not Shakespeare's) and begin spreading word of him being a bad guy (not necessarily a murderer because I don't trust these common people not to go to the cops).  Once he is completely ostracized, begin having people around him that are still close (for example my mother and myself) to begin questioning him on the murder, and really on the legitimacy of anything he does.  If at this point, the guilt and seclusion doesn't force him either, into exile or into confession, I bring him out publicly on the count of my father's murder.  At this point, with practically a whole community against him, it will be easy to punish him for his deed, and of course, force him out of the marriage with my mother.  Punishment should be severe, after dealing with me and my personal rage (perhaps at some point before trial I take him into a dark alley with some of my friends and really give him something to think about), he'll end up going to jail, for a extremely long time.  Hopefully the mental damage of what I've done, as well as the fact he isn't married, has no friends, has no more freedom...he'd get the message.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-3418913148423458040?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/3418913148423458040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=3418913148423458040' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3418913148423458040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3418913148423458040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/pre-read-thoughts.html' title='Pre-Read Thoughts'/><author><name>Lindsey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12688635100110851290</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-521469046995720830</id><published>2009-02-03T08:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T08:46:38.335-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dee, Cunningham, and Woolf</title><content type='html'>Jonathan Dee’s review “The Reanimators,” sparked a bug that got me thinking about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Hours &lt;/span&gt;and  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mrs. Dalloway&lt;/span&gt;. Dee claims that part of the literary merit is creating and developing your own characters. He argues that it takes a certain skill to actually write and not copy the work of others. Although he rips on the overall “physco historic” novel and using real characters to basis novels off of, it seems that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Hour&lt;/span&gt;s receives the most dignified writing for beings somewhat acceptable. Dee claims that Cunningham’s “appropriation of genuine historical figures…as characters in fiction is an act of imaginative boldness that through simple attrition readers of contemporary fiction have come to take entirely for granted”&lt;br /&gt;Dee says that novels help “bridge the gulf between the knowable and the unknowable about human motives” and that it helps “transcend” and bringing closer contact with our natures than real life.” Just as Barnes proves in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Flaubert’s Parro&lt;/span&gt;t, Cunningham is able to recreate that “books say because.” Cunningham dives into the depths of Woolf’s mind, which is ambitious, and in some opinions wrong, but he also develops his own characters. Although Clarissa Vaughn is based of a “form” of Mrs. Dalloway herself, Laura Brown is seems to be completely new and creative. However, this is where I stuck, does Dee accredited Mrs. Brown who is he critical of her. What is Dee saying in his review when talking about Laura Brown and how “it takes nothing away from greatness of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mrs. Dalloway&lt;/span&gt; to say that Cunningham’s depiction of Woolf’s struggles with that novel do not-cannot-transfix us thoroughly as does his depiction of pregnant, fragile Laura’s struggles to bake a simple birthday cake with the help of her son.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For my essay I want to pick up where Dee leaves off, but explore how Cunningham succeeds in his novel through form and the essence of connectivity. His novel offers a more explicit example of modernism in action, and I think because he chose to emulate Woolf’s mind and reconstruct Mrs. Dalloway’s story that he can pull of the homage and level of intimacy in a unique way that is inventive. I believe that because of Cunningham’s style and form he can pull of a level of intimacy with Woolf and with his other characters. Cunningham brings his story together at the end, and because of his final connection between the characters&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-521469046995720830?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/521469046995720830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=521469046995720830' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/521469046995720830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/521469046995720830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/02/dee-cunningham-and-woolf.html' title='Dee, Cunningham, and Woolf'/><author><name>Maddie Crowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14005367734524519930</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-2567977444763239313</id><published>2009-01-28T18:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T18:21:00.393-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hours... My Perspective</title><content type='html'>No matter how hard I try, how long I spend, how focused I become, I cannot seem to find any kind of liking to this novel. &lt;em&gt;The Hours &lt;/em&gt;is most definitely not my kind of story. As you know Mr. Lavender, I am all about the action, especially that containing vampires :) Anyway, this is a bit more captivating than the rest of the novels we have read in your class, such as &lt;em&gt;Mrs. Dalloway. &lt;/em&gt;Now, I understand where you are coming from when you say that the books that I am interested in are "poorly written" but you have to understand that I am not an English teacher and I still have not learned to appreciate well written stories such as the ones we read in your class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the novel, I think it is kind of slow, as a whole. I also think that there is some significance to this cake thing, still haven't figured that one out? I am also kind of creeped out by all of the kissing going on between women, even the sisters! I feel like every single one of these women is either a closet lesbian or an open lesbian, with a few exceptions. I am not the kind of person who likes to read about that. I guess the "passion" between these people is interesting and does kind of intrigue me but then I come back to the thought of it being women kissing, not the norm. I guess that is kind of what Michael Cunningham is all about, being abnormal and twisted with his characters, who knows. All in all, I am super excited to finish this book so that I can get back to reading to my other book, ha ha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-2567977444763239313?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/2567977444763239313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=2567977444763239313' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2567977444763239313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2567977444763239313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/hours-my-perspective.html' title='The Hours... My Perspective'/><author><name>Katie Mallard</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10638328526380005227</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-7151826586964801736</id><published>2009-01-27T16:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T17:09:52.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hours</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;I saw the movie, "The Hours" when it first came out and i found it very depressing and confusing. So i was very &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; white-space: pre; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; "&gt;hesitant &lt;/span&gt;to read this book, but i was happily surprised. I've really enjoyed how this book intertwines the lives of three very different characters. I have also enjoyed how "Mrs. Dalloway" is the base of this book and reading it has made , reading "The Hours", much easier to understand. Even though this book shows how society has become more accepting, I still find this book, like the movie, very depressing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-7151826586964801736?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/7151826586964801736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=7151826586964801736' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7151826586964801736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7151826586964801736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/hours_27.html' title='The Hours'/><author><name>justin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03261041090004498449</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-6606716606187273059</id><published>2009-01-27T15:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T15:30:08.385-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Crash</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Snow Crash&lt;/span&gt; is a story about the world's best hacker (computer hacker), Hiro Protagonist.  Hiro, after getting fired from his pizza delivery job within the first few pages, is introduced to a 'drug' in a cyberspace community called snow crash.  Of coarse, there can't be a drug in cyberspace, you can't inject, snort, or swallow it to have it's effects.  What it does instead, is show you a long string of binary code, you know, computer language.  This particular string of binary code basically 'crashes' your brain, attacking the occipital lobe in your head.  Now, just for clarifying purposes, this is bad.  It sends you to the hospital, and they can't fix you.  Snow crash is also available in drug form in the real world, but this time it acts like a drug.  Without falling victim himself, Hiro, along with his smart-ass helper, YT, have to stop the snow crash from claiming anyone else.  Combining Sumerian myths, some awesome sword fights (Hiro wields two of them), not to mention some amazing new technology, Neal Stephenson creates a reality that takes well know things now, and blows them up to mean and become so different, that it is easy to see.  This book has some insanely awesome fights, both in the virtual-reality of the Metaverse, and in reality.  This story can get confusing, we can't see into Hiro's head when he makes all of his connections between myth and reality, but it all gets explained toward the end.  Challenging, entertaining, action packed, with a sprinkle of lust, this book is a must read for anyone, no matter what you're into!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-6606716606187273059?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/6606716606187273059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=6606716606187273059' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6606716606187273059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6606716606187273059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/snow-crash_27.html' title='Snow Crash'/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00913062084993413365</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sxPMoWHi7VE/S13JadstHBI/AAAAAAAAAAc/dGsZ7mo42bM/S220/Hitachin+brothers.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-6862515251926878633</id><published>2009-01-27T10:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T10:41:43.399-08:00</updated><title type='text'>yah</title><content type='html'>while I do not find The Hours to be extremely exciting i do find it to be somewaht engaging. To me, the characters are very interesting. Each one has their own individual quirks and problems that makes them seem so real. The way in which the book follows each character somewhat reminds me of a sitcom, but that's alright. The language distracts me from this negativity. Every passage is very well written. Simply, yet very descriptively Micheal Cunningham brings his crazy, sick, and troubled characteres to life. The only parts i have a problem with are the chapters regarding Virginia Woolf, they seem soemowhat out of place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-6862515251926878633?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/6862515251926878633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=6862515251926878633' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6862515251926878633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6862515251926878633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/yah.html' title='yah'/><author><name>save the crust</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13980615492036855329</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-6293607904572923081</id><published>2009-01-27T09:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T10:07:12.733-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hours Thus far...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So far this is a very interesting book. I like the three different sections that tie us in with Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf, and Mrs. Brown. This story really engages the reader. If you slow down while reading this you can catch on to the interconnections of all of the characters and certain events. Cunningham uses many "moments" throughout this story to connect many of the characters. He also uses these moments to show how he feels about the real Mrs. Dalloway and Virginia Woolf. This story is a little slow for me so far and i'm not sure if I will really like it,  but who knows it seems to get better the further I get into it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-6293607904572923081?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/6293607904572923081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=6293607904572923081' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6293607904572923081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6293607904572923081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/hours-thus-far.html' title='The Hours Thus far...'/><author><name>Erin T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10770617103587512236</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-4863732060736559199</id><published>2009-01-26T20:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T20:59:56.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hours</title><content type='html'>While &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Hours&lt;/span&gt; is slightly more engaging than any others we have previously read, simply because of the very interesting characters and easy to read language, but I find myself lacking any real interest in the characters - simply because there is little to no action.  Unfortunately, all "great" novels seem to be lacking of any clear action - oh my god throwing away a cake, drama!!!.  Not to sound offensive, Mr. Lavender, but it has been very hard to stay engaged in the books we read, and this is probably likely for most of the guys in our class, just because they are mostly just about women and their lives.  I understand that some of this is to be blamed upon me, because I do not annotate these books, considering it is impossible to underline anything when you can hardly concentrate on the text, due to sheer boredom. &lt;br /&gt;I'm sure that some books, such as &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Moby Dick&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Purple America,&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Catch-22&lt;/span&gt;, would be equally respectable to read in our class - they were both on the Christmas list you gave us, and these books are a much better, and an easier read than anything we have read so far, because something HAPPENS in them. I don't give a crap about the struggles SPOILER Laura goes through in her hotel room, even though they are philosophical in their own nature, about understanding her own mortality and how easy it would be, and how many other people have probably, ended their life in that hotel room. &lt;br /&gt;Not only will reading novels such as &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Catch-22&lt;/span&gt;  give us a better chance on the AP exam, because it is much easier to remember things from novels that one becomes actually enganged in.  But since I do not make the class sylabus, and have no wish to, I will continue to persevere even through the most feministic of books.  On that note, while this book still makes for very poor reading, I understand that this type of novel is an example of something, not sure quite what of yet, and will ultimately be to our benefit on the AP.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-4863732060736559199?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/4863732060736559199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=4863732060736559199' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4863732060736559199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4863732060736559199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/hours_26.html' title='The Hours'/><author><name>Connor Reich</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18064840102118063399</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-7722985531328450478</id><published>2009-01-26T18:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T19:30:21.253-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Three's a Company</title><content type='html'>From the beginning, I’ve really enjoyed reading The Hours.  I’m not sure if it is the cadence of the writing or the three different narratives, but Michael Cunningham’s twist on Mrs. Dalloway and Virginia Woolf’s life has kept me captivated thus far.  The most interesting part of The Hours is Cunningham’s attempt to get into the mind of Virginia Woolf.  In the passages about “Mrs. Woolf”, Cunningham makes Woolf less of a literary icon and more of a person.  Personally, I knew nothing about Virginia Woolf (aside from the drowning with rocks part) before this novel.  The tidbits of information about her husband and servants, as well as her relation with her family, are all new to me.  I already admired Virginia Woolf for her amazing writing abilities, but I find it easier to understand the complexity of her work through learning more about the author herself.  Besides the “Mrs. Woolf” sections of Cunningham’s book, the “Mrs. Dalloway” sections are pretty interesting.  I enjoy looking for the connections and little details Cunningham swiped from Mrs. Dalloway to add to his book.  So far, I like Cunningham’s plot twist to Virginia Woolf’s original work, and the application of the same story to a different time and place.  While “Mrs. Dalloway” lives in Virginia Woolf’s plot, the additional character of Laura Brown adds another aspect to the book.  Laura Brown is the futuristic reader of Mrs. Dalloway that we as readers watch drink in Virginia Woolf’s writing.  I like how Cunningham has the narration of Laura Brown, wondering how Woolf could write such pretty lines and then commit suicide, and Virginia Woolf’s narration providing the process of her writing and the constant present of headaches.  And, since Cunningham’s first chapter is Woolf’s suicide, the structure of Cunningham’s chapters leaves me wondering what is going to happen to cause Woolf’s suicide and why she finally gives in.  I’m enjoying The Hours so far, I’ll have to wait and see how it ends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-7722985531328450478?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/7722985531328450478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=7722985531328450478' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7722985531328450478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7722985531328450478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/threes-company.html' title='Three&apos;s a Company'/><author><name>Evan T</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02914905542070487522</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-2107138365370690024</id><published>2009-01-26T16:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T16:25:50.734-08:00</updated><title type='text'>3 mini stories all intertwining</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 204, 0);"&gt;I enjoy &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Hours &lt;/span&gt;so much more than &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mrs. Dalloway&lt;/span&gt;. It's just so much easier to understand and with the stories of three characters being told things get switched up a bit.  So far I am impressed with how Cunningham has all three characters relate.  Although, he is somewhat doing a photocopy of Woolf's original work, it is still different in many ways.  All three characters each have a connection in each of their chapters, whether it be certain characters who represent each other in the different situations or if it is the way the three women perceive certain objects in their lives.  I believe that Kitty and Laura's "moment" is similar to Louis and Clarissa's moment, it feels forced but also wanted so much at the same time by one of the characters.  Laura's cake and the burial mound they made for the bird in Virginia's story both represent something significant. The cake maybe represents the way Laura feels about her life, it is there and looks "nice" but it could be so much more, she always talks about her missed opportunities.  The bird's position in the circle of roses and Virginia's comment about wanting to switch places suggests her thoughts about wanting to be dead and ending her life.  I like how Cunningham changed the names of the characters in Clarissa's story, it's the least he could do and it also makes the reading and presentation of new characters kind of like a puzzle you have to solve.  I am most intrigued by Laura's story.  At times she resembles Virginia with her depressing thoughts but then she proves to be more and more like Clarissa with her interactions and her always being watched by Richie, waiting to see what she will do next, as she does when she reads about Clarissa. I hope that Laura ends up being more like Clarissa, I would hate to see her die and leave behind poor little Richie and her husband.  I guess we'll just have to wait and see....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-2107138365370690024?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/2107138365370690024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=2107138365370690024' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2107138365370690024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2107138365370690024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/3-mini-stories-all-intertwining.html' title='3 mini stories all intertwining'/><author><name>dogs down under</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08604922048371759614</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-1944864287498393681</id><published>2009-01-25T21:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T21:26:01.246-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So far just odd</title><content type='html'>I would have to say that this book is confusing, especially if you didnt happen to read Mrs. Dalloway. But I am excited to see my reactions to this book as opposed to people who actually did read Woolf's novel. I enjoy Cunningham's writing style, because I am actually reading the novel. I seriously tried to read Mrs. Dalloway but I found it to be too dry and dull. I find it a little controversial that Cunningham  first recreates Woolf's novel, but in the process he  also writes about the Mental illness coming upon Woolf. I wonder if Woolf's illness is common, or at least was back then. Its cool how all the stories intertwine even though they are in separate areas of the world and different years. Somewhat reminds me of the movie Babel. I have to be honest that I am tired of reading about women and their borring struggles.  And if possible  for the next novel read about something exciting. Over Christmas break I read Slaugher-house  Five  and it went  by much faster than these first 100 pages.  But hopefully this novel gets  some action or some liveliness to it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-1944864287498393681?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/1944864287498393681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=1944864287498393681' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1944864287498393681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1944864287498393681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/so-far-just-odd.html' title='So far just odd'/><author><name>t brod</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09933009334555181169</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-4488564675670425323</id><published>2009-01-25T20:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T20:36:23.581-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hours</title><content type='html'>This book is much like Mrs. Dalloway, in the way that it follows a few people in the span of just one day. Which leads to my next point, this is like making a sequel to a movie where everyone dies in the end, it just doesnt work as well as one may think. Michael Cunningham's decision to take another authors style and technique and use to his own advantage is selfish, novels such as Ms. Dalloway should be left alone and not tampered with. Although i have bashed the authors decision to imitate, the technique of using just one day to show a character and their life allows for much more detail. The decision to place each character in a different time period is not seen in Virginia Woolf's so that is one hint of uniqueness going for Cunningham. All in all, i look forward to reading the rest of this novel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-4488564675670425323?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/4488564675670425323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=4488564675670425323' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4488564675670425323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4488564675670425323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/hours_25.html' title='The Hours'/><author><name>stuhunt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05462456494735957007</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-6699193806724816650</id><published>2009-01-25T14:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T15:08:48.461-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Odd turn of events...</title><content type='html'>Louis visiting Clarissa? What?...This is an odd turn of events indeed! I would have felt rather awkward around my husband's past lover... (not to mention a gay past lover)! Then, later Clarissa finds herself having thoughts of Louis and her taking off their clothes together? I am once agian confused by these characters and where their exact feelings towards one another are. Perhaps, more than confusion...I am a little disgusted to who they are as people. As well, I still see or feel no connection towards these present characters and the original ones. Where is the connection? Where is the deeper meaning? Or is this truly just the writings of a confused individual? I hope to be enlightend towards the end of the book.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-6699193806724816650?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/6699193806724816650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=6699193806724816650' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6699193806724816650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6699193806724816650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/odd-turn-of-events.html' title='Odd turn of events...'/><author><name>Amerina!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996598827770107978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-6588552318758247102</id><published>2009-01-25T11:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T11:25:56.371-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cunningham's Creative Character Connection</title><content type='html'>Cunningham has created a literary puzzle.  Though he begins his novel almost the exact same way as Woolf, one begins to see his real literary techniques as we read on.  I really do enjoy this book.  It’s an easy, creative read.  I’ve found I must slow myself down when reading it in order to pick up on all of the minute repetitions that Cunningham throws in.  Every part of this novel is interconnected to another part, as are the characters.  I’m still trying to understand what kind of statement Cunningham is trying to convey, and how he really feels about the real Mrs. Dalloway.  I feel as if he is trying to prove that it isn’t virtually impossible to fully understand a different person, as Woolf conveyed.  He has created several “moments” where characters feel completely connected, where Woolf, in her novel, shows that this connection can only occur when two people are interacting on another level.  I like Cunnigham’s take on Mrs. Dalloway, as well as the way that he mirrors characters, while emphasizing different characteristics of each person.  Each character in his novel stands for something, and I am still in the process of deciphering it all.  I have not finished this book yet, for the reason that I’m trying to take my time and catch every connection that Cunningham has created.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-6588552318758247102?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/6588552318758247102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=6588552318758247102' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6588552318758247102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/6588552318758247102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/cunninghams-creative-character.html' title='Cunningham&apos;s Creative Character Connection'/><author><name>Sarah Carlson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02857744094603671861</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-5200379675873104877</id><published>2009-01-24T20:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T20:40:52.129-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the hours</title><content type='html'>I like the book thus far. I think Cunningham does a good job keeping the reader interested. I enjoy the three different stories and hope to see them progress in an optimistic way from here on out. I find myself questioning the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;connections&lt;/span&gt; between the women. I like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Laura's&lt;/span&gt; story i find it to be the most realistic in a sense, i feel like her story is less obvious in term of the connections to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; other characters and the main themes, whatever they may be. Although, it does seem like all the characters are sort of stuck in a middle stage, not happy but not terribly unhappy. This sort of bugs me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; it's kind of depressing to read about people who in essence &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; really care about life, its &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;almost&lt;/span&gt; as if there is a universal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;inability&lt;/span&gt; to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;satisfy&lt;/span&gt; their everyday needs and wants, this could change tho. Also it is i find it strange that each story is set in a different time period, i wonder whats up with that? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Overall&lt;/span&gt; I have enjoyed the book up to this point, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; interested in reading &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;further&lt;/span&gt; to see what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;happens&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-5200379675873104877?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/5200379675873104877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=5200379675873104877' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5200379675873104877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/5200379675873104877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/hours_24.html' title='the hours'/><author><name>colors of the rainbow</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05006469826078605881</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-4288507565242613259</id><published>2009-01-24T15:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T15:59:25.085-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pete and Repeat were on a boat Pete fell off who's left?</title><content type='html'>I almost feel as if &lt;em&gt;The Hours&lt;/em&gt; is too much like &lt;em&gt;Mrs. Dalloway. &lt;/em&gt;Perhaps the originality of this new novel will bloom later on in the novel, but for now I feel as if I am re-reading &lt;em&gt;Mrs. Dalloway&lt;/em&gt;. The connections that Michael Cunningham creates in his writing to Virginia Woolf's writing are too obvious for me. Although, Cunningham does structure his novel with credible modernist perception, I think that because he uses so few of his own ideas it takes away from the entirety of being a modernist.&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong I do enjoy connecting all three of Cunningham's characters together and relating his book to Woolf's, however it makes me wonder if the main idea may be a little too simplistic for classic literature. &lt;em&gt;The Hours&lt;/em&gt; is a fun read that makes you feel intellectually sound in the reading arena, but is the writing truly legit or just too much of a copyright? In &lt;em&gt;Flaubert's Parrot &lt;/em&gt;the story was unique and seemed like a separate entity than &lt;em&gt;Madame Bovary &lt;/em&gt;(and it's probably because it wasn't directly focused on &lt;em&gt;Madame Bovary)&lt;/em&gt; but there were still subtle connections to be made.&lt;br /&gt;Thus far, Laura Brown seems to be the most intriguing character. Laura's story is different and one that we haven't heard, and the connections are less obvious, and harder to figure out. I look forward to the rest of the novel and hope that the "flow" that begins in the beginning continues until the end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-4288507565242613259?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/4288507565242613259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=4288507565242613259' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4288507565242613259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4288507565242613259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/pete-and-repeat-were-on-boat-pete-fell.html' title='Pete and Repeat were on a boat Pete fell off who&apos;s left?'/><author><name>Maddie Crowell</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14005367734524519930</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-7376450173761627658</id><published>2009-01-23T11:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T11:08:37.115-08:00</updated><title type='text'>hmmm....</title><content type='html'>Overall, I feel like this book has absolutly no representation or similarity to Mrs. Dallowy or the other three characters. It seems that the characters within The Hours are only trying to find a happy medium in life, a place in which they are not utterly unhappy. Their life circumstances are obviously quite different from that of the other original characters.&lt;br /&gt; The Hours only seems to turn in circles, never really getting a true point across, although I could just feel this way due to my mass of confusion. I find some of the characters lives disturbing such as Richard. Sleeping with Louis and then Clarissa, hmmm...not quite sure how I feel about this Richard. Anyways, I am just a bit dazzled by these confusing characters, and where they exactly stand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-7376450173761627658?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/7376450173761627658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=7376450173761627658' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7376450173761627658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7376450173761627658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/hmmm.html' title='hmmm....'/><author><name>Amerina!</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09996598827770107978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-8052830107840400254</id><published>2009-01-23T11:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T11:09:09.715-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lots of Hours</title><content type='html'>I really enjoy reading the hours so far. I like that i can relate the story of Clarissa Vahgn to Clarissa Dalloway and make subtle connections as i read. Also i think Laura Brown's story is very interesting because it seems to trivial in retrospect but there is definately more to come. I can easily relate the characters to each other event though they are separated by three different time periods because they all have similar attitudes and behavior towards the events of their everyday lives. They each give off a sense of recollection or desire to be elsewhere, live elsewhere. Laura dreams of a life exploring her hidden talents and lost possibilities because she feels trapped as a pregnant mother and spouse in a fairly ordinary life. Clarissa thinks back to how her life could have played out had she stayed lovers with Richard instead of Sally. Virginia think of how she feels starved of London, and her suburban life lacks the excitement of the hustle and bustle of city life. So far all three characters have expressed their feelings of entrapment and their inability to fulfill their lives according their exclusive dreams and desires. The end of each chapter seems to give resolution by bringing the characters back to reality and grounding them to their current situation. I am enjoying The Hours much more than i thought i would having already read Mrs. Dalloway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-8052830107840400254?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/8052830107840400254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=8052830107840400254' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8052830107840400254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/8052830107840400254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/lots-of-hours.html' title='Lots of Hours'/><author><name>Juliette.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03646216716946626854</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-2497419104747430852</id><published>2009-01-23T10:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T10:58:39.902-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Thus far I really enjoy reading this book. I find it very poetic and smooth to read. The plot structure Cunningham uses with the three women makes the book very interesting. It holds your attention all the way through and makes you wonder how they all pertain to the larger picture. Although Cunningham is somewhat modernizing Woolfs Miss. Dalloway i enjoy his use of Virgina Woolf as a character. She may be a fictional character but there is a perose to it. It gives us a different perspectuse angle to anilitacly look at Miss. Dalloway. Mrs. Brown, Ms. Dalloway and Virgina Woolf are all meaningful characters that are interesting to read about. I am exited to learn more about the rest of the book and how it unfolds between these women. At the time they are nearly entirerly seperate with few relations like the novel Ms. Dalloway. I commend Cunningham in reproducing Ms. Dalloway and adding in his own twist and plot to it. They are deffinetly different novels but have many relations. I like it so far.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-2497419104747430852?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/2497419104747430852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=2497419104747430852' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2497419104747430852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2497419104747430852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/thus-far-i-really-enjoy-reading-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Carl Schroedl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09860383415771204780</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-2060201839157712949</id><published>2009-01-23T10:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T11:08:55.202-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Las Horas</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Hours&lt;/span&gt; is a alright book but it kind of gets to me, it is almost the same as &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mrs. Dalloway&lt;/span&gt; which is a book that we have already read.  With this fact existing in the back of my head I feel sometimes that I shouldn't read this and since I am reading it why should I read this besides the fact that it is required by you?  But even though I would rather not I do have admit that it is pretty descent.  The main thing is that I keep getting sucked into the illusion that this is the real Virginia Woolf and not a fictional character that Cunningham can use at his disposal at any time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-2060201839157712949?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/2060201839157712949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=2060201839157712949' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2060201839157712949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2060201839157712949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/las-horas.html' title='Las Horas'/><author><name>baller sauce</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06850518785130285571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-4134963835118799641</id><published>2009-01-23T10:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T11:07:04.197-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hours is mostly a waste of time.</title><content type='html'>This is really not an appealing book at all. The only parts that are even vaguely interesting are the bits about Virginia Woolf. The exploration of an insane person's mind is actually really interesting, similar to how the only good part of &lt;em&gt;Mrs. Dalloway&lt;/em&gt; was Septimus. I find Clarrisa Vaughan's chapters to simply be a rehashing of &lt;em&gt;Mrs. Dalloway&lt;/em&gt; to the point that it feels like I'm simply rereading &lt;em&gt;Mrs. Dalloway&lt;/em&gt; but in a different setting. Mrs. Brown is somewhat interesting but she really just sounds annoying (probably what Cunningham wants to sound like because she is pregnant) but reading about a whiny hormonal housewife isn't really my kind of thing. Also is it just me or does Mrs. Brown seem almost bipolar? one second she is anguishing about her son and wanting to ditch him the next she's filled with a "spasm of love" (79).&lt;br /&gt;One of the worst parts of this book so far is the seeming lack of point in both the novel itself and in our act of reading the book. It seems to mostly just be a clone of &lt;em&gt;Mrs. Dalloway&lt;/em&gt;, which we already read, so what is the point of reading &lt;em&gt;The Hours&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-4134963835118799641?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/4134963835118799641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=4134963835118799641' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4134963835118799641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/4134963835118799641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/hours-is-mostly-waste-of-time.html' title='The Hours is mostly a waste of time.'/><author><name>Rabidwolf</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16153613767396312218</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JcGnkTf692o/SNh_gzeTIsI/AAAAAAAAABE/4BXcjeDJGtg/S220/ichigohollow.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-2656651014775269665</id><published>2009-01-23T10:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T11:01:55.833-08:00</updated><title type='text'>agin?</title><content type='html'>didnt we already read a better version of this book? i feel like the differances in plot and characters are just about as differant as mirricle whip is to mayonase. both add the same thing to the sandwhich (haha) virginia wolf just spreds so much better in my opinion, this is just an educated guess into the mind of virginia wolf, there are qualities and beauty to cunninghams observations and like any novel there are new messages to be found. for me its just hard to read a book thats goin to leave me feeling(most likely) the same as a book i have already read. or even worse take away from the experience wolf gave me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-2656651014775269665?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/2656651014775269665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=2656651014775269665' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2656651014775269665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2656651014775269665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/agin.html' title='agin?'/><author><name>Bl0gMST3RFL3xXx</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08282061157804059720</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-988361815809391792</id><published>2009-01-23T10:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T10:53:09.760-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hours</title><content type='html'>Michael Cunningham has a unique writing style, his choppiness makes it difficult to follow, yet makes it interesting at the same time. Overall, I find this to be an appealing literary piece. Throughout the book I have been able to make many connections with other stories I’&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ve&lt;/span&gt; read and movies that I have watched. For example the mysteriousness of the movie star, is similar to that of the figure in the cab. In Mrs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Dalloway&lt;/span&gt;, everyone is enchanted by the idea of having a star in their presence, yet is unaware of the true identity of the character. Another tie that I have made is with Richard and his shattered desire to go to the awards ceremony. This is similar to Arthur Abbott, in the Holiday. Arthur fears that in going to the ceremony there will only be a few people there to watch him hobble down the isle in his old age and applaud his work. Yet both have come to inspire numerous people through their works. I don’t believe that this book is just a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;mimicking&lt;/span&gt; of Mrs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Dalloway&lt;/span&gt;, through Michael Cunningham’s writings; I believe that he is trying to make connections between writer and character. Though, it is strange that he has deemed himself worthy of telling the story of Mrs. Woolf. This book is semi-interesting, I look forward to reading more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-988361815809391792?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/988361815809391792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=988361815809391792' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/988361815809391792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/988361815809391792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/hours_152.html' title='The Hours'/><author><name>Amy Knight</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12631447322871813068</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-2625272357337937311</id><published>2009-01-23T10:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T10:53:53.523-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Hours'/><title type='text'>slow Hours</title><content type='html'>Though this book is easy to read and goes fast, I don't feel myself retaining very much. I like the writing, it flows well, but it flows right in and then out again. &lt;br /&gt;I think that  I don't retain that much is because nothing has really happened, most of the book has been the women reflecting or thinking or whining, and to me it seems pretty dry.  Im sure that some of it is deserving of literary merit, but its really not that interesting. I feel more involved in books where I can either connect to the characters more or more stuff is going on. However, Cunningham makes it work by tying the women together and by splitting the passages up. By the time you are ready to move on to another character, Cunningham changes it up, and your interest is renewed in this new character. This book isn't my favorite, but its not my least, and I'm interested in how he will tie the characters and the book up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-2625272357337937311?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/2625272357337937311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=2625272357337937311' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2625272357337937311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2625272357337937311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/slow-hours.html' title='slow Hours'/><author><name>vicmaj</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16286588906061132313</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-1140039126667707746</id><published>2009-01-23T10:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T10:56:58.081-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cunningham &amp; The Hours</title><content type='html'>To start things off, I must say this book is much more enjoyable for me than &lt;em&gt;Mrs. Dalloway&lt;/em&gt;. Although the concept of time and the fact the whole novel takes place in one day is &lt;em&gt;Mrs. D&lt;/em&gt; were aspects I did enjoy, &lt;em&gt;The Hours&lt;/em&gt; is simply an easier read. Personally, I think I need to pay more attention to the symbolic and representational details, such as the many things that connect characters in the book to each other. Just at face value, however, I very much enjoy the three main characters split by chapters. Cunningham's vivid descriptions and intricate, slightly different tones he uses in each section make the book interesting, and pretty different than anything we've read. Even though Braithwaite's narration in &lt;em&gt;Flaubert's Parrot&lt;/em&gt; does resemble Cunningham's point of view and interpretation of Virginia Woolf, the general makeup and format of &lt;em&gt;The Hours&lt;/em&gt; is vastly different that Barnes' work. In short, I like this book. Although no characters really stand out to me and the storyline seems pretty simple, it's nice to get through a book with ease and simplicity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-1140039126667707746?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/1140039126667707746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=1140039126667707746' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1140039126667707746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1140039126667707746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/cunningham-hours.html' title='Cunningham &amp; The Hours'/><author><name>Meg</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04539737467618060257</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-3688063303152569680</id><published>2009-01-23T10:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T10:44:31.269-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Cares?</title><content type='html'>I have, so far, enjoyed this book.  It is easy to read and goes real fast.  In reference to what others are saying about the creativity of the author and his originality, I say, who cares?  When I am reading a book, looking at a piece of art, or listening to music, I am not thinking about who should get what credit and who deserves what.  If you are entertained, the product is therefore good.  Like hip-hop, this book sample and borrows from a previous artist.  And if you don't like it, so be it.  But do not judge any kind of art off of who deserves what, judge it on whether or not you enjoy it or if it moves you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-3688063303152569680?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/3688063303152569680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=3688063303152569680' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3688063303152569680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3688063303152569680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/who-cares.html' title='Who Cares?'/><author><name>maxb</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00876558059944778592</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-2354223052930524633</id><published>2009-01-23T10:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T10:56:05.175-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hours Review-thing</title><content type='html'>So far, I have really enjoyed &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Hours&lt;/span&gt;. The style is a nice change from a lot of the heavier books we have read. In the first chapter I was somewhat irritated by the mimicking of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mrs. Dalloway&lt;/span&gt;, (Couldn't Cunningham come up with his own story?) but as the Virginia Woolf and Laura Brown chapters were introduced, and Clarissa's story diverged from Woolf's version, I started liking it a lot more. The writing is pretty but easy to read, and the plot, though comprised only of mundane events, is interesting (not gripping but..).  The characters are very different but completely relate-able, and remind me (as was probably the point) of the characters in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mrs. Dalloway&lt;/span&gt;, not only by their actions and personalities but by the way they (or Cunningham) merge deep, philosophical trains of thought with everyday observations. I don't think it really copies Woolf's book. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mrs. Dalloway &lt;/span&gt;is used as a point of departure, in the way that an artist can base a painting off of a photograph, and then change the color-scheme. It would probably have been better if Cunningham had been completely original, but I like what he has done with this. Besides, what is completely original? All inspiration comes from somewhere, though the source is usually warped beyond recognition in the product.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-2354223052930524633?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/2354223052930524633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=2354223052930524633' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2354223052930524633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/2354223052930524633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/hours-review-thing.html' title='The Hours Review-thing'/><author><name>Emma</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11329880566757921072</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-3395557661670491974</id><published>2009-01-23T10:34:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T10:41:55.218-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hours</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;To avoid procrastination and probable confusion on my part, I’m just going to come out and say that I am not impressed by this novel.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Don’t get me wrong, it is “pretty”, as Lavender would say, but it seems to pale in comparison to not only Woolf’s writing, but practically every book we’ve read in English class since Freshman year.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have yet to finish the book, however, so I’m hoping that my opinion will change as the characters are brought together more and more, but at the moment, I’m slightly bored with this story.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Cunningham’s Mrs. Dalloway section feels almost forced (her appreciation of the world around her does not sound nearly as sincere as the true Mrs. Dalloway, rather, it sounds like she’s high or simply has a puerile state of mind), the Mrs. Woolf section feels almost too personal for a reality-based-fictional character, and the Mrs. Brown section is depressing (not to mention the son is incredibly creepy).&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Yet, I do have hope for this book; it did, after all, win the Pulitzer Prize so there must be something I’m missing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-3395557661670491974?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/3395557661670491974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=3395557661670491974' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3395557661670491974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/3395557661670491974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/hours_3051.html' title='The Hours'/><author><name>alexis c.</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-1586277556966714574</id><published>2009-01-23T10:34:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T10:40:35.322-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hours</title><content type='html'>So far my feelings on this book have been rather neutral.  I've enjoyed some parts and I've hated a few others.  The parts about Virginia leave me feeling as if she is a fictional character, and not a real person at all.  At the same time the Dalloway parts mirror Woolf's Dalloway so much that I find myself not really enjoying reading them, as I feel it's a total repetition with different names and different settings.  As for the Laura Brown parts, these parts often leave me feeling empty-headed and distracted and I feel that though there are some interesting facts and happenings in these sections of the book, I do feel that they detract from the story as a whole.   However, this book is incredibly easy to read and I have not had any problems completing the assignments, and I do often find myself reading ahead.  Something else that makes this book easier to read is that Cunningham's language is much simpler than Virginia's and it seems the messages he wants to carry through are easier to recognize and interpret than Virginia's were.  The book as a whole doesn't really seem as audacious in its depiction of Virginia's life, mainly because when I get as deep into the book as I often do when I read I forget that she does have a real life, and that she is instead a fictional character and that Cunningham could do whatever he pleases to her because her life is subject to his depictions.  Overall these feelings have left me with a fairly neutral perspective on the book.  I haven't really enjoyed that much of it.  But at the same time I don't find it much of a problem to read.  I believe that I will finish this book fairly quickly and that after finishing it, though I will still retain some of the words and scenes from it, it will likely slip quickly from my mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-1586277556966714574?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/1586277556966714574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=1586277556966714574' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1586277556966714574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/1586277556966714574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/hours_5980.html' title='The Hours'/><author><name>Kirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01696626305580944637</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293367695186762604.post-7596053591005307340</id><published>2009-01-23T10:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T10:50:31.583-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wordplay</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;     To me this book is 66% frustrating, but 33% amazing. The Mrs. Woolf chapters completely enthrall me. I'm not entirely sure why, but I love reading these chapters that most people find "presumptuous" and aggravating because he tries to inhabit the mind of one of the best authors of the 20th Century. To me they are so well-crafted that the discrepencies and guesses that he takes about what went on in her mind as she wrote her most famous novel fade away and I start reading the chapters as if she is just another character he created for the novel.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;     On the contrary, the character he created solely for this novel, Mrs. Brown, I find to be depressing chapters about a woman obsessed. Though she has sort of a revealation where she decides that "She will want this second child," it just seems that she is too obsessed with the novel. It makes me angry reading about how she is dealing with the question of suicide. (Woolf also explores it, but in an indirect way as she is going to have Dalloway kill herself). I just find the desperate connection too much to bear. It seems so forced and monotonous that I dread when I see the "Mrs. Brown" heading on a page.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;      Likewise the "Mrs Dalloway" chapters aggravate me. I don't like the shameless mimicry that Cunningham continually executes in this chapters. Though I must admit that they are growing more interesting as the novel progresses, they still tend to dredge up a book that I had already put down (not that &lt;em&gt;Mrs. Dalloway&lt;/em&gt; was bad in any sense). I grow to just point out where he is bringing in either specific events or broad themes that were in&lt;em&gt;  Mrs. Dalloway&lt;/em&gt; rather than try and accept this book as his own and divulge into &lt;em&gt;its&lt;/em&gt; imagery, not Woolf's.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;     Yet, seeing as I tend to contradict myself constantly, I cannot say that I find this book poor in anyway. Though I have major faults with two of the storylines (so far), I love reading connected story lines and have begun to try and see where one story hints at the future of the other. In this way I think the book has begun to take a life of its own that requires no defense for the criticism it recieves as a "reanimation" of &lt;em&gt;Mrs. Dalloway&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3293367695186762604-7596053591005307340?l=tellurideaplit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/feeds/7596053591005307340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3293367695186762604&amp;postID=7596053591005307340' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7596053591005307340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3293367695186762604/posts/default/7596053591005307340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tellurideaplit.blogspot.com/2009/01/wordplay.html' title='Wordplay'/><author><name>AJ</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02681624025045060538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
