Final Presentations

     It was wonderful getting the chance to watch everyone present. When we were asked to pick a topic and write it on the yellow piece of paper that was passed around, it was difficult to narrow down what I wanted to focus on. It felt as though we all had difficulties choosing what to focus on. For me, my topic was similar to the clouds we discussed earlier in the semester. It was constantly shifting, changing from one form to another. Finally my focus was narrowed to what I present to you here. Even though I am submitting my final product, is it really final? No.
     For me, this is just the beginning. The ideas I had when we were asked to write down what we wanted to focus on are still on my mind. There is so much more to say and do, yet so little time. Dr. Sexson stated earlier in the semester never to ask, "are we there yet," because the end will always come. Right now that statement holds more value than ever before. The end is within reach, but I don't want to reach for it, I need more time.
     We were all asked, "why are you here?" in a presentation the other day. That question hit close to home for me. I started college in 1997, 18 and ready for a change in life. The new found freedom was amazing. I could do what I want without any care of consequence. That is just what I did, nothing. I drank too much and smoked way too much weed with no care of the outcome. My grades reflected it and was asked by MSU to take some time off. I passed two of the 10 classes I took my freshman year. So I took some time for myself.
     Over the next 12-15 years, I made poor attempts at going back to school. It usually started out just fine, but when things got difficult, I folded, withdrew, dropped, or just stopped going and failed. I have wasted a lot of time, money and energy; but that does not matter. For the first time, I am ready to continue my education and it feels good.
     Everyone always tells me to take my time, go at your own pace......Oh, I have. Trust me. But I am finally seeing the end to what I set out to accomplish so many years ago. It was something I have wanted for a long time and I will finally finish my goal.
     Although it may not be wanted, listened to or most importantly not my place, I am going to offer advice to the gentleman who asked us the question.  Do what makes you happy. Play your guitar with your friends. Spend your time in the mountains. Live the way you want to, and do it for yourself. If you see no reason to go to school right now, don't. You are obviously intelligent and can accomplish anything you put your mind to. Focus on what brings you happiness and go for it. If you decide to give school another crack, great. If not, no worries. Just do what you want and do it for yourself. Sorry if I am out of line, but I respect wanting to do what is best for you.
     
    
    

Final Paper

Scott A. Jeffrey

Lit. 473

4-15-13

The Wheel is Come Full Circle; I am Here

King Lear’s Wheel of Fortune

     Shakespeare refers to the wheel three times throughout King Lear. My focus is on Edgar’s statement, “The wheel is come full circle; I am here” (Shakespeare 327). This statement refers to Edgar’s highs and lows throughout his journey from nothing, to everything and back to nothing during his fretting and strutting upon the stage—a circular stage, his wheel of fortune. Yet I have no care for Edgar and his journey; my intrigue lies with King Lear, deception, madness, storms, death and rebirth; of which all are present throughout King Lear’s spin of the wheel.

     The wheel of fortune I envision has qualities fit for a king. This wood structure is perfectly constructed and known as the largest circular structure known to man. The wheel is lifted off the ground, allowing its free movement in either direction. Pegs are placed every forty five degrees around the wheel, sectioning it into eight equal parts. A balance-scale, similar to the one referred to in The School of Night, by Frederick Turner, rests above King Lear’s wheel of fortune, with stages or platforms on either side of the center of the wheel. It is not the earth and a feather resting upon the stages of the scale, but the daughters of a king—Regan and Goneril on one side, Cordelia on the other—balancing equally on either side of the wheel. Yet the greatest stage of all has room for only one, the King. His stage is in the only place it can be, front and center at the top of the wheel.

     Before his journey on the wheel of fortune, King Lear takes his position at the peak of the wheel. He is tied with rope, holding him in place, allowing only his head and his hands to move freely. In each hand, King Lear holds a satchel of treasure which represents his kingdom. Before his rope is fastened completely, Lear states the reason for his request of his daughter’s presence:

Tell me, my daughters—

Since now we will divest us both of rule,

Interest of territory, cares of state—

Which of you shall we say doth love us most,

That we our largest bounty may extend

Where nature doth with merit challenge?    

With his last spoken word, the ropes around the King are pulled tight. As a result, his grasp on the satchels of his fortunes drop from his hands spilling across the ground. In a frenzy reminiscent of Raleigh and his pearls, Regan and Goneril pace around their stage, blinded by the spilt fortune while Cordelia takes no notice. With fortune in mind, Regan and Goneril profess their endless love for King Lear while Cordelia says nothing. From the top of his wheel, Lear sees the world in unfamiliar ways. “All the same, the world seen from such a vantage-point—the All seen from the only point of view outside it, that is, Nothing—becomes valueless in turn, and we are left with the dark charivari of Wagner and the devils, unnatural strawberries in winter, delicious, soul-stealing sexuality without heart or issue: a theatre-world of illusion and sensation without substance” (Turner 56). With a clear view of everything, Lear sees nothing; he is blinded by the devilish lies of love. The King encourages Cordelia to speak again, stating, “Nothing will come of nothing,” but Cordelia is not persuaded and chooses to keep her love for the king in her heart. All the while, the weightless words of love in the air begin to tip the scale. Lear’s wheel of fortune is in motion, fueled by lies. With these lies comes the onset of madness and in each passing moment the wheel distances him from the one who truly loves him, Cordelia.

     As Lear nears the first peg, his crown begins to slip from his head. As it falls from the graces of his noble skull, Lear extends the lower half of his arm out to grasp his free-falling kingdom. With the crown landing safely in his hands, Lear reaches the first peg on his wheel of fortune. He hits the peg with his unprotected head, in turn deepening his madness. The wheel only slows, it is in motion and will stop for nothing. Madness makes one do terrible things; up is down, right is wrong and so on to where Lear banishes Cordelia while rewarding lies of true love with equal shares of his kingdom. Lear signifies the equal distribution by breaking his crown in two pieces. 

     In a discussion with Frederick Turner, he offered clarity as to how Lear was able to break his crown in two. Frederick did not know how King Lear had enough strength to pull on each side of the crown with enough force to split it into two equal pieces. What he realized is Lear was not pulling at all, Lear is able to gain enough force to break the crown by crossing his arms and pushing from opposite sides. From Turner’s thoughts, I realize as he did, the only way for the King to have enough strength to break his crown, is to use this method. The visual presentation of crossed arms and opposite forces is intriguing to me. It is as though in his madness, King Lear embraces opposite forces and action. He found clarity when breaking his crown with crossed arms in the same way his judgment was clouded by crossing his arms and pushing away the one who truly loves him. Yet with open arms and love he gives his power and fortunes to his daughters who do not return the favor.

     As the next peg on his wheel of fortune approaches, Lear finds himself with 100 knights at the doorstep of his daughter Goneril. She is unable to make time for him, professing more lies, lies of her sickness. The only truth found in sickness, is the darkening of King Lear’s madness. Lear is met with confusion at every step, being treated like never before. It is in this confusion that King Lear reaches the next peg on his wheel of fortune, once again hitting his head, drifting further into madness. After the second blow to the head, Lear asks, “Who is it that can tell me who I am?” to which Fool answers, “Lear’s shadow” (Shakespeare 107). He is merely the shadow of his former self, powerless without his crown. He is left to the mercy of those who he gave his riches, a mercy he will not find. Instead of a warm embrace, Goneril asks for half of what he has left. She wants 50 of his 100 knights. Only if Lear strips himself of half of his everything, will he be allowed to stay. With the disgrace of this demand, Lear curses his loveless daughter Goneril and states, “I have another daughter,/Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable./When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails/She’ll flay thy wolvish visage” (113). The wheel of King Lear’s fortune takes him on a journey towards the next peg in a search for love, a quantified love, in turn, an unattainable love.

     In the slow turning of the wheel, Lear arrives at Regan’s house to assess the quantity of her love. To his surprise, she too sees Lear as only a shadow of his former self. Regan takes the side of her sister and in doing so, strips Lear from the allotted 50 knights down to 25. In his outrage, Lear attempts to reverse his wheel of fortune by retreating back to Goneril who will let him keep 50 knights.  But it is too late, his fate is sealed with Goneril’s arrival to her sister’s home, bringing with her a tempest of great magnitude. Rain begins to poor and water accumulates at the base of Lear’s wheel as his head crashes into the fourth peg. In his madness, his shadow is all that is left, that and his 25 men. Yet Goneril and Regan see a different outcome:

                                                Hear me, my lord:

            What need you five-and-twenty, ten, or five,

            To follow in a house where twice so many

Have a command to tend you?

                                    What need one?

Oh, reason not the need! Our basest beggars

Are in the poorest thing superfluous.

Allow not nature more than nature needs,

Man’s life is cheap as beast’s. Thou art a lady;

If only to go warm were gorgeous,

Why, nature needs not what thou gorgeous wear’st,

Which scarcely keeps thee warm. But, for true need—

You heavens, give me that patience; patience I need!

You see me here, you gods, a poor old man,

As full of grief as age, wretched in both.

If it be you that stirs these daughters’ hearts

Against their father, fool me not so much

To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger,

And let not women’s weapons, water drops,

Stain my man’s cheeks. No, you unnatural hags,

I will have such revenges on you both

That all the world shall—I will do no such things—

What they are yet I know not, but they shall be

The terrors of the earth. You think I’ll weep.

No, I’ll not weep.                       Storm and tempest.

I have full cause of weeping; but this heart

Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws

Or ere I’ll weep. Oh, Fool, I shall go mad!

It is the stripping of his knights, kingdom and power by his loveless daughters that drives Lear deeper into madness, as well as a curious and brief clarity. He advises his daughters to not try and justify the need of an item, for all items are in some sense unnecessary. His clarity comes from his understanding of his going mad, but before he reaches this understanding, the storm and tempest rages. The storm drops rain at such a rate, the bottom fifth of the wheel is now submerged in water and yet Lear’s wheel of fortune continues to turn. Lear states he will not weep, even though the villainous actions of his daughters gives him the right to shed a tear—his tears will only add to the rising water of the storm. Before Lear’s head reaches the water, he tells Goneril and Regan that before he weeps, his heart shall break into 100,000 pieces. The image of confetti sized shreds of his heart touching the earth brings a new understanding to the image of his fortune spilling to the ground. The holders of Lear’s wealth, the same ones who were in such a frenzy over his fortune spilling before their eyes, find no value in his scattered heart. Viewing his heart to be worthless, they allow Lear to venture into the raging storm without caution. Just as he enters the storm, so too does his head fully submerge under the flooding waters of the wheel, a wheel which brings him closer to the southernmost peg and total insanity.

     The darkness of insanity comes with the storm’s waters rising past Lear’s head on his inverted path to his lowest point. In total darkness and submerged in water, Lear meets Poor Tom—Edgar, naked while at the same time in disguise—and from this meeting a light is cast over Lear which allows him to see his unjust ruling of the past.

             Poor naked wretches, wheresoe’er you are,

             That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,

             How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,

             Your looped and windowed raggedness, defend you

             From seasons such as these? Oh, I have ta’en

             Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp;

             Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,

             That thou mayst shake the superflux to them

             And show the heavens more just.

Within this passage is Lear discovers his inability to govern his kingdom in a responsible manner. He has been the cause of unjust suffering, but now wants to see his people flourish in health and wealth. To which Poor Tom—whose insanity rivals that of King Lear’s—responds, “[within] Fathom and half, fathom and half! Poor Tom!” (203). A fathom and half refers to a sailor’s cry when gauging the depth of water, a depth in this instance of nine feet. By stating the depth of water, Poor Tom inadvertently provides a clear picture to my understanding of Lear’s wheel of fortune. His body is fully submerged as his head strikes the southernmost peg, resulting in Lear’s loss of consciousness.

     Although unconscious and fully submerged in water, Lear begins his upward rotation of his wheel. The only sound during his rise towards the surface of the water is the shuffling feet of a messenger en route to Lear’s daughter Cordelia. She is told that her father is not well and being the only daughter who truly loves the king, she makes the voyage to see him. As Lear reaches the surface of the water his head strikes yet another peg. But, for the first time, there seems to be no response other than elevating Lear into the arms of his loving daughter.                                        

[Kissing him] O my dear father! Restoration hang

Thy medicine on my lips, and let this kiss

Repair those violent harm that my two sisters

Have in thy reverence made!

It is the kiss of true love that awakens the sleeping king. Although he is awake, he is still plagued with insanity and confusion.

You do me wrong to take me out o’ th’ grave.

Thou art a soul in bliss, but I am bound

Upon a wheel of fire, that mine own tears

Do scald like molten lead.

                                           Sir, do you know me?

You are a spirit, I know. Where did you die?

Lear believes he has been raised from the dead where he was bound to a wheel of fire in hell. But for the first time he sheds a tear which evaporates from the heat of the fire. A tear resulting from the true love of his daughter, a daughter he understands to be dead. His ever present madness is no longer insanity, but he is unable to break free from being a shadow of his former self. As the wheel continues to turn, Lear and Cordelia embrace each other as they escape the waters of the storm on their rise towards the next peg. Before the natural motion of Lear’s wheel of fortune allows for the two to reach the peg, they are captured by guards. The guards accelerate the wheel’s motion by dragging the newly reunited father and daughter into the next peg on their way to imprisonment.

     Although the two are facing the reality of being locked in a cage, father and daughter are back together once again. They survived the storm which Ted Hughes describes as the storm of death and rebirth, where he is reborn to her as she is to him (Hughes 50). It is exactly where Lear wants to be, while Cordelia is torn. She asks Lear, “Shall we not see these daughters and these sisters?” (Shakespeare 311). To which King Lear responds:

No, no, no, no! Come; let’s away to prison.

We two alone will sing like birds I’ th’ cage.

When thou dost ask me blessing, I’ll knell down

And ask of thee forgiveness. So we’ll live,

And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh

At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues

Talk of court news; and we’ll talk with them too—

Who loses and who wins; who’s in, who’s out—

And take upon’s the mystery of things,

As if we were God’s spies; and we’ll wear out,

In a walled prison, packs and sects of great ones,

That ebb and flow by th’ moon.

Although still stricken with madness, Lear realizes as long as the two of them are together, they will be happy. They will be birds in a cage. Even though he wanted the two of them to stay together, locked with one another for eternity, Edmund has different plans. Cordelia is taken to a cell by a guard whose instructions are to hang her and make it look like a suicide.

     The wheels motion brings Lear closer to the last peg of fortune. His separation from his true and loving daughter is devastating; however, the arrival of Regan and Goneril proves even more so. When asked where he has sent the King, Edgar informs them he has sent him by guard to be held captive and “With him I sent the Queen,/My reason all the same. And they are ready/tomorrow or at further space t’ appear/Where you shall hold your session” (315). They are being held until their judgment day, a day saved for tomorrow.

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,

And then is heard no more; it is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing.

Although this passage is taken from the opening statements of Turner, who found it in Shakespeare’s Macbeth, it is a perfect fit for King Lear’s wheel of fortune. The wheel turned at its petty pace. At the lead is the shadow of a man who has done nothing but strut and fret upon the stage. But before Lear’s brief candle goes out, others must be extinguished first. As Lear’s head hits the final peg before he comes full circle, his two daughters fight over the love of a bastard. A love which could not previously be found resulted in the death of both sisters, one life taken by a knife, the other poison.

     On the final rise of the wheel, Lear holds in his arms the lifeless body of his only daughter who truly loved him, Cordelia. In order to hold her body, Lear loosens the ropes that hold him to the wheel. With his free arms, the two share their final embrace. Believing she is only sleeping, Lear attempts to wake her with no result. In his attempt, his ropes come free sending the two of them and their newly rekindled love, plummeting towards the pool of water below. Arm in arm, they reach the water together and King Lear’s brief candle burns no more. Lear has finally found the love he always wanted. However, his search for a quantified love brought insanity, which took everything. From the nothing he had left, his search for love finally came to an end.

Get a Life

     The other day in class we discussed the need to get a life. I have noticed over the last two months I have been giving the same response to anyone who asks--I give the same cookie-cutter response to regulars at work all the time when they ask how things are going--I tell them "I have no life, all I do is go to work, go to school and study." 
     Talking about this in class made me think about the what I had actually been saying. I had been using my words incorrectly. I should have said, for the first time in a long time, I actually have a life. Rather than just going through the motions and taking things day by day, I am now thinking and pushing myself daily. This is not to say I wasn't using my brain before, I might have been, but now there is a purpose for my thoughts. I not only want to push myself, I feel the need to push myself for the first time in years.
     I have been the worst student over my college career which started in the late 90's. I was always going through the motions, faking my way through to get my rare A, most often B, better yet C, D or F. Not to mention the endless classes I have dropped before things became difficult or the numerous W's I have taken over the years. So I say, for the first time in a long time, I have a life. I cannot wait to hang out with my friends, play golf and do nothing. But that will have to wait. First I must live.

From a King to a Pimp

We were asked to blog about this passage, seeing that my previous blog was on a similar subject I decided to do some translation to the lowest form of speech. If I remember correctly we were asked early on in the semester to do a translation, if not, oh well, here is some strange stuff.

 From a King to a Pimp.
Oh, reason not the need! Our basset beggars
Are in the porrest thing superfluous.
Allow not nature more than nature needs, 
Man's life is cheap as beast's. Thou art a lady;
If only to go warm were gorgeous, 
Why, nature deeds not what thou gorgeous wear'st,
Which scarcely keeps the warm. But,. for true need--
You heavens, give me that patience; patience I need!
You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, 
As full of grief as age, wretched in both.
If it be you that stirs these daughters' hearts 
Against their father, fool me not so much
To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger,
And let not women's wopons, water drops, 
Stain my man's cheeks. No, you unnatural hags,
I will have such revenges on you both
That all the world shall--I will do such things--
What they are yet I know not, but they shall be 
The terrors of the earth. You think I'll weep.
No, I'll not weep.
I have full cause of weeping; but this heart
Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws
Or ere I'll weep. Oh, Fool, I shall go mad! 

Shit, don't tell me about need.
Some of them hobos be havin'
Shit that they don't need.
You best stop thinkin' about all that
Worthless shit you don't be needen
And spy on that mangy mutt that
Makes it just fine wit nuttin but nuttin.
Why you be wearin' those damn uncomfortable
heels, you best get some sneakers, them be practicle.
God, give me the time, man I need time!
God you see me, beat down, no money havin'
As old as I am pissed off.
If it be you God that make these bitches
Go against their Daddy, Stop playin'
Don't let them bitches tears keep me from my money
I ain't cryin' You old ass street walkers,
You gonna see the wrath I be bringin' on you.
Everebody be knowin' what I be doin'
Shit, I don't know what I be doin' yet
But it gonna be some ruthless shit, hear me.
You think it hurt me,
It ain't hurtin' me none
Man I should be hurt like a mathafaka
But no, rip my heart outta ma chest
before you see me a hurtin
Damn fool, shit makin' me crazy!

A Storm Makes Nothing Matter

     Lear, out in the rain banished from his land and stripped of his former self comes to the realization that what he once believed to be "nothing" has value beyond his wildest dreams.
The art of our necessities is strange
And can make vile things precious.
In his days past, Lear would have laughed at someone seeking shelter in the miserable hovel. But now it is his savior, his castle, his everything. Lear begins to realize how bad of a king he has been. How he has treated those with no provisions, no home. Now that he has nothing, he sees how much nothing is worth.
     Similarly, finding value in what before had none, this line, And can make vile things precious, translates directly to his daughters. Cordelia not professing her love for king Lear made her vile, dead to him. The storm, his having nothing makes him realize the true value of what he once had. Cordelia is once again precious. He once again sees things for what they are. It is as if this storm is one of truth, for it allows the king to see things for what they really are. In the same way the king allows his jelly to view vile things to be precious, the rain from this tempest clarifies what has been vile for Gloucester. He now realizes Edgar to be his true and thoughtful son, while his reservations for his bastard once again grow strong.
     It is as if the storm is not only bring the rebirth of parent and child together, but the storm cleanses their vile thoughts allowing for the realization of their wrongdoings. Once their thoughts are cleansed, they can see things for what they are and should be. Funny that Gloucester sees the truth about his son just before his vile jelly is ripped from his sockets; similarly, Lear's mind becomes clear while he fights with insanity. It is as if Puck is the storm sprinkling his potion down onto the ones who need it the most. The trickster wants to see order and love once again.

Ten Minutes

     I listened to an NPR broadcast awhile ago where children were put in a room with one chair, a table and a plate with one cookie on it. They were told that they could eat the cookie at any time, however, if they did not eat the cookie for ten minutes they would receive two cookies as a reward. Some children had no care and ate the cookie right away, instant gratification never giving thought to the prize they missed out on. Others lasted the ten minutes with no problems or fuss, received their two cookie prize and were on their way. While some children struggled throughout the entire ten minutes. One boy walked circles around the room frantically repeating "TEN MINUTES" over and over again. Yet another girl made it nine minutes and fifty eight seconds before she broke down and ate the one cookie, losing what she was so close to achieving.
     I bring this up because we were asked to read Vladimir Nabokov's Signs and Signals, "which is short and should take only ten minutes". It took me right around ten minutes to read the short story and upon completion my mind wanted more time. "TEN MINUTES" is how I felt, for this would  never be enough time to try and piece together what the hell is happening in the story. Now I could have reached for the cookie and ate it, meaning use this handy thing called the internet to see what others could tell me about what the hell was happening in the story. But I chose to take another route. I reread the piece, thought about it, told my roommate to read it--he was as mind boggled as I was--thought about it some more and decided to read King Lear to not only get my mind off of Signs and Signals, but to see If I could find similarities between the two.
     Referential mania is not exactly what I was experiencing, I do not feel as though I am more intelligent than other men nor do I see conspiracy in everything around me. But something has happened, I have read and reread the material, looked over our notes from class, looked up words I did not know all in an attempt to figure out some sort of meaning to what I had been reading. We were told in class to find something in the story and that we will be led astray from the true meaning. Look for the hidden meaning. Once is chance, twice is coincidence, and three times is Mythology. Then we were told about the jelly jar, the one that seems the most trivial is the most important. Now I read the piece twice before I looked over my notes and now felt as if I had a direction in which to focus my search. Or did I?
     Each sign or symbol I see takes me in a new direction. I think I am mything the point. I looked closely at the text, scribbling a few things that stuck out. "Nature shadows him wherever he goes...clouds in the sky start transmitting to one another by means of slow signs...more intelligent than other men...manual alphabet...(running water, storms) are hysterical to the point of insanity...horrible masklike grimace...mirrors...knives would have to be kept in a locked door". This was just the beginning, I had read the short story over and over again paying close attention to every detail of which there are many. The phone rings three times, the jelly, the playing cards, but what I noticed after awhile was the similarities to Shakespeare: shadows, clouds, masks, insanity, mirrors...Then sadly, I had to go to work.
     When I got home, I decided to look back at my notes for the entire semester. I wanted to look over shadows--reflections of the reality they represent--and clouds--in the process--looking for answers to what I could have missed. While turning from page to page scouring my scribbled notes, I noticed in the middle of one page I had written flowers and storms p. 50 and for some reason it stuck out to me. So I pulled out Ted Hughes to see what he had to say. It was as though Hughes was not only describing Shakespeare but Nabokov as well:
"In the last plays, which explore the salvation of the lost heroine and the redemption of the tragic hero, a new language appears. In this third language, the metaphorical density dissolves but the sense of complexity, and of packed, many-layered richness, remains. The complexity of knotted metaphor melts, that is, into a musical complexity, a sinuous, melodious orchestration of tones where words have resumed their simple directness without losing their amplitude. Again, this change corresponds to a major change in subject matter on the mythic level. The fatal collision of different worlds, dramatized in the tragedies proper, and in the compacted language of those plays, has been resolved in this new phase, where the hero, instead of causing the heroine's death and thereby bringing about his own, is reborn to her as she is to him. Their rebirth, wherever it occurs, is characterized by brimming passages of this new, simplified, yet enriched music, usually describing storm (the storm of death and rebirth) or flowers (the flowers of death and rebirth), or an ultimate transcendence" (49-50).
I looked at the jelly jars and came upon quince, not knowing what it was I looked it up and saw a picture of the flowering shrub. Now I can see both the flowers of death and rebirth as well as the storm throughout the story being the storm of death and rebirth. The parents, or the father sent his child to the sanitarium where the young man flirts with death multiple times. Similarly, the old man says he cannot sleep because he is dying. Yet blood begins to flow once again through his veins when revelation of bringing his son home hits him. It is the rebirth of father and son. Their lives together will be lived locked in their two bedroom flat. Imprisoned together until their death.
    There seem to be many correlations between King Lear and Signs and Symbols yet I am not sure if Nabokov had this in mind for his short story. Ending my thoughts with this connection between flowers, storms, death and rebirth, left many of my theories swinging in the wind. I still have many questions about the meaning behind this short story, but I chose not to eat the one cookie and look up what others could tell me. I wanted to see what I could come up with on my own. As for the "TEN MINUTES" I am fairly sure I spent a little more than ten minutes on this one.
     
    

When Hamlet Met Hamlet

     While working the other night, the Hamlet of no action had the rare pleasure of meeting Bipolar Hamlet. A gentleman walked in the door, took a seat at the bar and mumbled the need of a shot of Jameson and a Budweiser. I looked at him, realizing his intoxicated state and asked how his night was going. He once again mumbled, Jameson and a Budweiser. I looked at him and let him know that I was unable to serve him and that I was sorry for that. As a true gentleman would, he stated that if I would not serve him, he would go somewhere where they would. He stood up from his bar stool exited the building. After a five minute period, the same gentleman walked in the door and chose a seat five stools away from where he had previously been sitting. I walked over and asked how his evening was going. He only said Bud this time. I responded by telling him about our previous conversation, reiterating that I was unable to serve him. This is when Bipolar Hamlet presented himself. He called me a Communist, Nazi, with a flail of his arm said hail Hitler. I was caught off guard and asked him what he had said? His response was the same, Communist,  you Nazi...Now at this point, what I should have said was "Thou mangled onion-eyed death token," but what I said was you need to get the f*&# out of here. He slowly stood up, mumbling obscenities as he made his voyage out the door. He raised his hand and extended his middle finger, professing his love to the Hamlet of no action. At this point, my anger got the best of me, I reached for my sward and began my attack. I took two steps in his direction, stopped and thought to myself that this was not the time. I will plan my attack for when he next comes into the bar. My thoughts were on what I will do to him the next time he comes in. The answer is most likely nothing. I just wanted to share my Hamlet meets Hamlet experience.