A Dream Deferred

This chapter in the book is about figurative language, so I would consider it silly if I didn't even attempt to tackle question 11, even though I truly struggle with figurative language. But don't worry, I got this. The main focus of this poem is on five similes and a metaphor. Each simile means something particular, as well as that last metaphor, which carries the most meaning of them all. First, a dream might dry up like a raisin in the sun, eventually losing volume and importance until the dreamer forgets all about their earlier aspirations. Or it might fester like a sore, eating away at a person until it tears them down and makes them bitter towards the world because they could not fulfill their dream. Or perhaps it will stink like rotten meat, causing the person to be disgusted by what they once thought would be a truly grand dream. Or perhaps it crusts over like some sort of deliciously sticky sweet, becoming sugar-coated to the point that the person justifies their own failure to realize their dreams. Maybe even it just weighs down on the person, beating them down until they can no longer stand it. These are all perfectly valid possibilities. However, they are set apart from the metaphor, both physically by a single blank line in the poem, and analytically, as the previous five are similes but this one is an almighty metaphor (specifically an implied one, between the dream and something that explodes). The metaphor itself indicates that a dream could suddenly turn to violence in an attempt for the dreamer to make it reality, and it can spill out to affect many other things, like an explosion. The separation of the metaphor from the other similes indicates two things: either the speaker thinks it is the most likely to happen, or he is indicating that it is the worst possible outcome for a deferred dream to have.

This is an explosion. I estimate zero people will understand this one.

Thirteen - Loaded

I do declare, this is a violation of Man Law. Jake is having a perfectly good time up in the middle of nowhere with his best buddy Bill and a quaint fellow by the name of Harris. He's having a good old time knocking back a couple bottles of wine and going fishing with The Boys, and then he just up and bails because Brett is in Pamplona. Major party foul, Mr. Barnes, I'm going to need to see your Man Card. I guess what Hemingway is saying with Jake's readiness to abandon fishing and fun to go see Brett is that he really does have strong feelings for her. Although I think we already knew that. It's not like he's in it for the sex, amiright? *drum sounds*

I apologize for that. Okay, next, I've got a bone to pick with you, Hemingway. That's right, YOU *epic point* Afición definitely has an accent over the o. You accent every single usage of the word "café" in the entire novel, but in the case of "afición," you just got lazy? alt+162, it's not that hard, I promise.

I feel better. Next, let's see...we've got Mike's war story. Although...that's not much of a war story. I suppose it sort of has to do with the war, but it essentially takes place outside of it entirely. So I guess that's just another example of the members of the Lost Generation being uncomfortable actually talking about the war, so they tell cute little jokes and short funny stories in order to talk about it without really talking about it.

Right, so moving right along, Mike is a jerk. He keeps up with the whole "let's make fun of Cohn" deal that everyone else subscribes to. However, he at least goes right on out and says "Why do you follow Brett around like a poor bloody steer? Don't you know you're not wanted?" (p. 146). From this we can clearly see that Mike has adopted the more direct "Harvey Stone" method, as opposed to the more subtle "Jake Barnes" approach. Which naturally leads us into our Cohn equals Steer metaphor. This is turning out to be a loaded chapter.

Why is everyone so mean to little Cohn? Yeah, we know he's the only Jew, and he's the only nonveteran, but those are really just shallow coverings to hide the true cause of resentment throughout the entire group. Cohn acts sort of like the scapegoat, the target that receives the full force of resentment that is circulating throughout the entire group. Everyone picks on Cohn, and therefore nobody else seems to get mad at anyone else. Think about it, Jake and Mike have never had a tussle, even though they both love the same lady. Bill and Brett have never had an argument, even though Bill is literally the only guy in the group who hasn't had a saucy weekend affair with her. All this resentment and anger that should be floating around the group just sort of gets directed at Cohn, who bears the full fury of the entire group as a whole and is "gored" if you will. That's what makes him a steer. He takes on the entire group's aggression so that the group doesn't tear itself apart. Cohn is a steer not because he follows Brett around like Mike says; that's a job generally reserved for sheep. No, Cohn is a steer because he is the one who is sacrificed to the bulls.

It's just been revoked, Jake

Eight - Sweetheart of the Song Tra Bong

This little story is about the transformation of a sweet young lady named Mary Anne into a fierce Green Beret Warrior Princess, who I can only assume changed her name to Xena at some point. I was skeptical of the actual truth of this story, but, just two chapters ago, O'Brien told me that "In many cases, a true war story cannot be believed" (p. 68), so maybe there is a slight degree of truth to it. It just seems like it should be more difficult to just fly somebody into an active warzone. So rather than getting hung up on the truth, or truthiness, to use a Colbertism, of this tale, I'll just look at what it accomplishes.

O'Brien uses the metaphor "She was part of the land" (p. 110) sort of as a way to mark the end of this transformation. By calling Mary Anne the land itself, O'Brien shows that she has officially deviated as far as possible from what she once was, sweet, innocent, and adorable. So what does it mean for Mary Anne to be Vietnam itself? Well for one, she's wild now, no longer reserved, completely free, unpredictable, and unforgiving. She's lost her humanity, and it would appear some degree of her sanity. The same thing happened to so many men that came back from that war. Oftentimes, veterans of Vietnam say that they "left a part of themselves" in 'Nam. I think Mary Anne's story shows this to an extreme. Just as she left every part of her being in Vietnam, many of the men that came back, didn't quite come back all the way mentally. I guess O'Brien's just showing what war does to people, maybe to the extreme, but still...it just happens.

This is Xena. If she was real, she would be a green beret too.