Mark Watney displays incredible character traits throughout the book including that of resiliency but even more impressively his ability to maintain his sanity. Although some may argue that he went slightly mad towards the end of the book when he had to ration his meals, but I mean before that. Prior to this he was completely alone in space and was able to keep his cool. In addition to the potential onset of loneliness, Watney was also faced with absurd challenges such as being able to produce his own food on a planet without water. He was able to devise a system that kept an area of the space station humid enough to support plant life. In fact, Watney was only able to survive as long as he had due to his incredible botany experiment. Had any other man or woman been stranded on the station I believe the outcome would have been far different. It was due to his incredible set of botany and scientific skills and knowledge that allowed him to not only survive but practically thrive (as far as living on an uninhabited planet goes) on his own.

In addition to his unparalleled resiliency, Watney’s satirical and sarcastic sense of humor definitely helped him maintain his sanity, which played a major role in his ability to perpetuate life. As I said before, Watney’s scientific and botany abilities are a huge part of why he was able to survive, but even if someone with the same capabilities as Watney had been there the story could have ended differently. Watney was able to keep a good sense of humor and light mood which allowed him to make calm and calculated decisions.

 

We are all sputniks – we are all satellites. Among many other themes and symbols Murakami uses in his novel, “Sputnik Sweetheart,” the satellite is one of the most predominant ones used in the book and one of the clearest to decipher. Throughout the book, Murakami continues to reference back to the idea of a sputnik and often reminds us that we are all sputniks. What does that mean though?

Near the beginning of the book, a character looks up the word sputnik and finds that it means “traveling companion” in Russian. It is ironic that after this original definition, the book always references back to sputnik as a metaphor for life. Murakami compares us to satellites since we are always alone in life. We are locked inside our bodies, or our sputniks, and cannot escape our sputniks. We will orbit the planet in an orbit that we have no control over and can only await our inevitable end. Every now and then, another sputnik might cross paths with us. And yet we cannot stop to spend more time with the other sputnik. We are immediately taken away from the other sputnik and may never see it again.

Indeed, sputnik is a metaphor for life in Murakami’s book. Like the sputnik, we are stuck in our bodies and in our destiny, our fate. We will never be able to get out of our bodies to know someone else – we can only observe from afar.

The novel as a whole, as well as several specific details, expands on this theme after it is established in the beginning. First, the two main characters, are like sputniks for each other – they are travelling companions, or sputniks. In the novel, they travel from Japan to Italy and then France, ending up on a small island in the Aegean Sea. They get to know each other fairly well, but there is always some distance between the two – they are stuck in their own viewpoint, their own set of experiences. They each have their own reasons for the trip – one for business and the other for pleasure ­– and even the ways in which they are bonded together are different for each: one is sexually attracted to the other, while the opposite is not true.

One way in which the novel seems to breach the concept of the sputnik is that one of the main characters somehow goes to the “other” side, which I interpret as leaving one’s sputnik. The novel is very unclear as to what she does when this happens since she disappears from the world while she visits the “other side.” Emphasis, however, is placed on the fact that the very ordinary narrator is unable to leave his sputnik, implying that only people with very special qualities can leave their sputniks.

So my question to you guys is this: have any of you ever left your sputnik, or have you always felt bound to an existence in a separated, orbiting satellite? What do you think it takes to leave your sputnik and what does it really mean to do so?

Now, although Heaven is for Real isn’t the book for everyone, I really enjoyed it! Religion can be a dicey subject, but I have always been raised in a Christian home, and now am mature enough to evaluate my religious beliefs for myself. I decided to read this book because I heard how great it was, and I wanted to explore my personal religious interpretations of the novel. —

Colton Burpo, the four-year-old son of Todd and Sonja Burpo, suffered from a ruptured appendix. He was very ill when the doctors took him in for an emergency appendectomy. During that surgery, Colton later tells his parents that he briefly left this world and went to heaven. He saw God, the Angels, his late sister, and his “Pop” (Todd’s father). Once he is out of surgery, and has recovered a few months later, he talks to his father about “Pop.” Now, Colton wasn’t old enough to have ever known his grandfather. “Pop” had passed away before Colton was born, so there was no way the four-year-old boy knew what he was talking about (right?). Well, to his father’s astonishment, Colton was able to give a spot-on description of a grandfather that he had never seen. Father Todd was a pastor, and because of that their family was obviously quite religious. Even then, Todd had a hard time coming to believe his son. He was confused in how Colton knew so much about his father, who didn’t live long enough to know the boy, but started to entertain the idea that his son actually did go on a “trip to heaven and back.”

Later in the year, Colton came running into the room where his parents and only sister, Cassie, were working. “Mommy, I have two sisters,” he said (Burpo 94). His mother assured him that he only had one sister, Cassie. Colton repeated himself, so his mother asked him what he meant. “I have two sisters. You had a baby die in your tummy…” Colton replied (Burpo 94). His parents were shocked, even timidly concerned, that their son knew about Sonja’s miscarried that had occurred before Colton was born. What was Colton’s response to how he knew about his passed second sister?: “She [told me] Mommy. She said she died in your tummy” (Burpo 94). Colton proclaimed that this knowledge of his sister was acquired in heaven, when he was in surgery and left this earth. Now his parents were convinced that something had happened; that Colton had taken a “trip to heaven and back.” Pastor Todd began taking his son to funeral services and hospital visits for the sick of their church community (like pastors normally attend). Colton began talking to the sick, assuring them that God was with them. He told them that Angels were around them, and that there is a heaven, which they will go to when the time is right. Instead of Todd’s words putting the members of the church at peace, Colton’s words were doing the job. People were amazed that a now five-year-old kid could talk so incredibly about their God. Colton, as a young boy, began changing the lives of others for the (religious) better, through his personal relationship with God (and “Jesus,” and “the Angels”).

So, now that you know a chunk of the plot of Heaven is for Real, I have questions: How did the story being told by a young child impact the power, or influence, of the account of a “trip to heaven and back?” In similar words, how did a child being the sole source of information fortify, or hurt, the reader’s takeaway? (My intention is that these questions be answered without having to clash religious beliefs with others, but that is certainly okay if thought necessary.)

In Harper Lee’s Go Set A Watchman, the old characters, Jean-Louise and Atticus Finch, from To Kill a Mockingbird, come back from a story we know and love. Except this time around things are a little different. First of all the story takes place 17 years later, Jean-Louise is 26 at this point and Atticus is an aging man. Second we learn that Atticus, a man who we thought was above racism, and the man she loves, Henry, is attending Klan meetings. Jean-Louise does not take this well. She suffers a crisis of conscience, feeling betrayed by everything she grew up knowing and believing.

In Go Set A Watchman, blindness is a key theme. Jean-Louise spends so much of her time visiting home focusing on how everyone she knows and loves is a hypocrite, and she fails to see her own hypocrisy. In her eyes, she is perfect. He father calls her inconsistent because she is angry at Atticus for his racist beliefs, but still ignores the true struggles of black people. In this way, she is blind.

She does however realize that society expects her and everyone else to “conform to certain demands” that Deep South Alabama holds in the 1950s. She says, “Jean Louise Finch, you are not reacting according to your kind, therefore you do not exist.” If she conforms to the ideals of “her kind” her strong-willed voice would be silenced. At one point Jean-Louise realized that “if [she] married, [she] would become Jean-Louise the Silent.” She was right. Marrying Henry, a racist, would compromise everything she believed. She would be blind if she chose to marry him.

The idea of a watchman in this novel is one’s conscience and principles. Jean-Louise thinks she needs a watchman leading her, but as long as her conscience is strong she won’t be blind to what is right. However, does Jean-Louise’s blindness and hypocrisy mean that she is not in the right morally? In To Kill A Mockingbird, we knew Atticus as a man of the law and a strong believer in what he thinks is morally right. So why does he attend racist meetings? Is he actually racist or is he just conforming to the society in Maycomb?

 

The Road was a short book that I knocked out in about a week. I chose this as my final book to read because of all the intriguing posts I read on this book. Unfortunately, I do not think I enjoyed it as much as others did. In the beginning, I was happy with the book. It was fast moving, lots of things were happening, and it was interesting to see what life would be like if the Earth had a world-ending disaster, etc. However, as I kept flipping the page, the book was just more and more depressing, but also just seemed a little repetitive. The Man and the Boy, the only two main characters, are trying their best to survive the desolate planet once known as Earth. I guess my biggest problem with the book is that Earth doesn’t “get better”. When I say this I mean during the book the reader never gets to see Earth start to go back to how it used to be, when people start to reproduce, and things go back to square one. I think this is the one thing that made me the maddest. I guess I don’t ever want to think about the fact that one day this world we know so well can end, and it might not ever be the same again. As I kept flipping pages, I was waiting to read a success story or a recovery story; I wanted to believe that Earth would always recover no matter how bad the disaster. The story just got me more depressed when I realized that Earth had been like that for more than just a couple months, it was more like a few years. The question that I want to pose is whether or not you are comfortable thinking about/ realizing that one day the earth could end/ change drastically by some huge natural disaster. I now know after reading this book that I do get uncomfortable thinking about fighting for survival on a desolate barbaric planet that would of used to be so different.

I’ll tell you what, after reading No Country For Old Men I can’t do anything but curl up into a little ball in my closet and suck my thumb hoping Anton Chigurh, the books token psychotic hitman, doesn’t come busting through my front door looking for me with his cattle gun (his signature weapon of choice, a device basically used to stun cattle before they are slaughtered by disorienting them utilizing a quick blow to the head with a metal rod, which either knocks them out or causes brain damage). But seriously I’d snap Chigurh in half like a dry twig using my barehands, but that’s besides the point. Because this is without a doubt one of the best books I’ve ever read, I’m going to try and give a little background to the story just so ya’ll can follow along with me here. The book’s main character is Llewelyn Moss (sick name bro), a young down n’ dirty South Texas boy who likes the simpler things in life like his old pickup, his charming trailer that he lives in with his babe of a wife Carla Jean, and his heavybarreled .270 on a ’98 Mauser action with a laminated stock of maple and walnut (his rifle). The book starts with our pal Llewelyn hunting some antelope on the southwest Texas plains just trying to put some food on the table for he and Carla Jean. Llewelyn travels deep out into the terrain following a 12 point ante’ he nicked on the buttocks but finds something he didn’t expect to see; a drug deal gone bad. There are bullets everywhere, trucks are shot up, bodies litter the ground, and 2.4 million dollars is sitting out in a briefcase, beckoning him to be the new owner. Llewelyn can’t seem to pass up this offer and what results is a wild goose chase for his life. Many parties are after him and the money, but the baddest of them all is Anton Chigurh, a hitman hired to get the drug people their money back.

So, with all of this being said, instead of rambling on about the plot some more and give away details that don’t need to be spoiled, I’m going to narrow it all down for you and focus on old Anton and one of his most riveting peculiarities. Chigurh does a lot of crazy and messed up things like kill people just for the hell of it. However, one thing that came up twice in the book and really got me thinking was Anton’s signature “coin flip”. The first example of the flip happens when Anton walks into a lonely small convenience store in the middle of nowhere, Texas and buys some snacks for the road. He buys some cashews and has quite the interaction with the cashier. The cashier making small talk asks if Anton, “you all gettin any rain up your way?” Rule number one, never speak to Anton. this eventually spirals into Anton eating his cashews calmly asking the man to call a coin flip. The man becomes increasingly nervous when he realizes that the man in front of him is about to kill him over a coin flip and calls heads, and wins. Anton calmly slides the coin his way and tells him it’s his lucky coin and walks out, leaving the man unharmed. But think about it, had the man lost, Anton probably would have pulled out his gat and but a bullet between the mans eyes and walked out of the store like nothing ever happened. Why doesn’t he just kill the man if he has no remorse about killing in the first place and why does he honor the winning call? Food for thought, food for thought. The second example is at the end of the book when he has a little run in with a little lady at the end of the book (won’t give you her name, don’t want to spoil anything 😉  ) and this one doesn’t end so well. She refuses to call it, and he shoots her in cold blood. Why? I just can’t make sense of this game, there must be a deeper meaning. I think it’s a power thing and he likes holding life in the palm of his hand. Also in the end when he kills the anonymous woman, while she did die, I feel like at the same time she also won by not giving him the satisfaction of calling the flip. Does anyone have any thought as to what this coin flip “game” means? Did the secret lady in the end win or lose? Would you call the coin and what would you call? Would you take 2.4 million dollars in drug money? All valid questions, someone give me an answer.

– Jackson S.

In all of the novels that I’ve ever read, Mark Watney in Andy Weir’s The Martian is possibly the most static yet interesting character that I’ve ever encountered. The premise of the story is that in the near future, Mark Watney, an astronaut and scientist, is left alone on the planet mars after his crew loses him in a solar storm and makes the assumption that he’s dead. The rest of the fairly simple and straightforward story then tells what he does to save himself and get back to Earth. I think that Watney maintains his appeal throughout the novel because his skills and intellect make him seem like such a badass that it doesn’t really matter that he doesn’t change in a deep or meaningful way if you look at the story with the right frame of mind. Very early on in the story, from almost immediately when he’s abandoned on the planet to the moment that he returns to earth, his only goals are to save his own life, survive, and get home. The only way that he can remain headstrong and sharp enough to achieve his goal is to be a static human being, and in the instance of The Martian, I think this actually adds to the story.

While some might argue that static characters are less interesting than those that are dynamic, in certain situations static characters can be just as compelling. I find that the characters that usually fit this role are the archetypal “man on a mission” type characters who are highly skilled and have extremely difficult explicit goals to achieve. These goals have enough pressure in themselves to be just as interesting as implicit goals or deep conflicts that some characters might have. Some examples of these other than Mark Watney are Sherlock Holmes, Indiana Jones, Robin Hood, and most classic versions of super heroes. These are all hero type characters and their appeal isn’t as much in who they are but what they do. They’re defined by their actions instead of who they are as people, yet they’re some of the most iconic characters of all time.

What do you think it is that allows for a static character like Mark Watney to be so interesting? Why are we so fascinated by such shallow characters? Are there any static characters in the novels that you’ve read that fit in the same category as Mark Watney?

 

I have never felt more like I’m living in a blender then while reading Hitchhikers

Guide to the Galaxy; From the very first page onward, the reader is thrust into a

confusing mess of situations and events, with rapid-fire conversations super-

imposed over top of them. Oftentimes you feel like you’re inside someone’s dream

where events take place and don’t seem to connect to each other in any way. There

are many philosophers who try to tackle the absurdity of life along with the meaning

of existence; and this book, too seems to do so in a weird way. My favorite

philosopher is Albert Camus. He talks about the necessity of confronting your truths

and the absurdity of life. When Earth blows up, Arthur (the main character) is

temporarily sad but then moves on rather quickly because a whole slough of other

irrational and absurd things happens to him. Adams makes a joke out of almost

every situation Arthur is put into, and that was the hardest part of the book was the

sheer disregard for rational, human emotion. I had a very hard time getting through

this book because of that fact. It also just annoyed me that events infrequently had a

rational explanation, which is something you (the reader) expect from a “good”

novel. Maybe I also didn’t like it because it made me think about mortality and the

meaning of life more deeply. I typically don’t like to muse over really deep topics

such as this because they can consume you and eat your happiness. However, there

are occasional positive upswings in the plot and you can’t help but be amazed

alongside Arthur. For example, when he sees the universe or discovers the Earth was

really just a computer. Transient things that seemed so important to him at one time

(such as his house) became meaningless, so in a way it puts life into perspective. I

don’t necessarily think it is any sort of social commentary, but would love to hear an

argument for that (maybe the whole thing about how Politics are so messed up and

nonsensical in the universe)! I ultimately derived no meaning in this book

whatsoever. There was no plot and I felt like I was playing literary dodge ball the

whole time. I was more interested, after doing research, to learn that the book was

part of a comedic series of “Hitchhikers” radio shows, stage shows, and a T.V. series.

So maybe the reader is truly just supposed to take it at face value- a crappy comedy.

What do you think?

Ok so this book is definitely the weirdest, dumbest and most pointless book I have ever read in my entire life. I could see how maaaaybe a boy would like this book but for someone to recommend it to a girl, you have to be down right mad. Seriously from the very first page I was confused. It started with a man on Earth name Arthur who was living his normal, strange, but normal life and then all of a sudden some weird aliens called “Vogons” were surrounding the Earth threatening to blow it to smithereens. A couple lines later Arthur somehow ended up on another random spaceship that happened to have the President of the Galaxy on it and he had just stolen this spaceship for reasons that are unknown. The book keeps on getting more and more confusing from that point on and I’m not going to lie, it was extremely painful to have to read it until the end.
To be fair, this book was first published in 1979 and so the author lived a life that was very different to the lives of all the other authors that I have read. But still, Douglas Adams, I have no idea what you were trying to say with your book/ what the point of it was. I guess he must have been some science person who wanted to write a fictional story about the future and the galaxy and what all can happen with technology but honestly it was just not a job well done in my book. Apparently many of the people who have read this book found it to be quite comical but I guess I just don’t have the right sense of humor.

Needless to say I am quite disappointed that this was the book that I finished off my senior year and the reading project on, but there is one positive thing that I can say about this book: it was a quick read. And I sure am glad it was because I’m not sure what I would have done if I was forced to read another page of it.

First, I encourage all of you to read Mr. May-Beaver’s book, Suburban Gospel. It is hilarious. However, I also encourage you to picture someone else as the author as it talks a lot about his sex life and desires as a kid. Because I knew him before, I found it a little odd, but still laughed at almost every page of the book. One of the main themes of this book is Mr. MB’s faith. He grew up as an evangelical Christian who was taught that sinning would send him to hell unless he was baptized. He was forced to balance his faith with his non-Christian like desires. His book tells the story of how he dealt with these struggles. Though I never kissed anybody at church camp or watched people change through a telescope, I too have had to balance my faith with my un-Christ like desires. I grew up in a Christian home where we went to church every Sunday, small group every Wednesday, and worked with special needs kids every other week. Once my brother and sister graduated, we started going to church less and less. I had to learn to balance my relationship with my friends and my relationship with God. These are the same feelings that Mr. MB discussed in his memoir. I think kids who grow up being forced going to church often try and rebel later in life. I went through this stage, and Mr. MB did as well. Faith is not something that can be forced, and Mr. MB did a great job of showing how your relationship with God is truly an individual relationship. He shows that only you and God can decide what’s right and wrong for you. The humor that Mr. MB used throughout the book made me be able to laugh at how he and so many other kids go through these struggles. He used satire to display a serious issue which makes it easier to read, but also shows genuine struggles that so many of us have gone through. My question to y’all is did y’all go through any issues when trying to balance your faith and your social life? How did you figure it out?

 

Again, I so recommend this book; I honestly loved every page.