In class, we discussed the ways in which City of Glass invites the reader to consider (not "solve") some mysteries of language, identity and books that "bewitch" their readers. As you did for the "Bonus Break Blog," offer some real-life examples of one of the ideas explored in the novel. The example can be monumental or mundane. Where do we find Auster lurking in the "real world?"
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This particular story is a concrete, real life example of what happens when you take on a task that forces you to assume a different identity. I'm a labor studies major, and I accepted an internship last year with an unusual requirement. I was hired by a labor union as a "salt", which is sort of like being a spy. My job was to pretend to be a college student seeking employment in a particular retail chain that was known to have massive labor violations. I had to choose a store in my area, get hired by that store, and then take notes (on a small notebook that was NOT red, though I wish it was now) about any violations I found. Then I would report those violations to the union that hired me. The bonus was that I would get paychecks from both the union and the store where I "worked".
ReplyDeleteAt first, when I began working at the store, I couldn't control the adrenaline rush that happened whenever I had to lie about my identity. I used my real name of course, but I couldn't tell them my major, so I pretended to be an English major. There were many near misses as I almost got caught with my little notebook several times. I had to explain to several people why someone attending Rutgers was working at such a crappy job (really, people asked me that). But the most interesting thing that happened was that I essentially 'forgot' that I was there to find labor violations.
The glamour of being a 'spy' was quickly lost as I found myself doing actual work. I had to ring up customers, stock shelves, unpack deliveries. It got so I didn't even have time to write in the notebook. I started hanging out with my co-workers, comisserating about the job, until I felt no difference whatsoever between me and them. In other words, I lost my identity as Laura, Labor Studies major and union employee, and became just another retail worker at a horrible store. Worse, I couldn't even keep track who I told what lies to. I remember saying to my union supervisor "I don't have time to take notes for you! I'm working!"
The point of this story is that it is really easy to lose sight of who you are when you agree to take on a different role. Much like Blue, I had trouble sticking to the plan, remembering what I was hired to do and why I needed to do it. But unlike Blue, I never got the satisfaction of a big "reveal", a confrontation at the end in which everyone told what they knew. And like Quinn, it was a relief to me (at first) to be another person, until that other person became a burden to me and everyone around me.
I learned that identity is largely influenced by circumstance. Most importantly, there is a very fine line between pretending to be someone else and actually becoming that person. Fortunately, I quit the job after 5 months, long before I began to hide in the alley behind the store where the garbage dumpster was kept.
-Laura So
The other night, my roommate and I had an unnecessarily long debate about whether or not “bootylicious” is a word. I said that it isn’t, but my roommate insisted that the supposed word is in the Oxford English Dictionary, and after looking it up online, we found that it is (and even used in context!) My roommate concluded that if the word is in the dictionary of dictionaries, then it must be real.
ReplyDeleteBut I was stubborn and decided that I could use some Austerian logic to reshape my argument. I said that just because it’s in the OED doesn’t make it a word. I mean, who decides if a word is real or not? Is there some committee of old guys in suits sitting at a round table somewhere at Oxford, endlessly debating whether words like bootylicious should be made official? And even if a word is made official, how can you call a word real? It’s not an object, it’s not something you can own. Instead, like we said in class, a word is a representation of something real, an arbitrary symbol that is created and perpetuated by us. Does saying that a word is real make it real? And even then, you’re using words to justify the creation of another word…in short, what is a word, and how can you even describe it?
By the end of the conversation, my roommate accused me of defending my point with philosophical gibberish, and I felt that it was time to back down. I found myself more confused than I was at the beginning of the argument, and all because Beyonce had to sing about being “bootylicious.” It’s not exactly a word that Stillman would have chosen for his new language, but I guess it does the job.
-Kristen S.
When I was eighteen I moved to Arizona to get away from where I grew up. I always wanted to travel and see the country. While I was living out there, my friends and I took a trip to California to visit some people we knew. It was my first time out west and we took in the typical sites. We went to San Diego, crossed the boarder into Tijuana, and then Hollywood. One of my friends suggested to me that we should stay in Hollywood with a friend of his and then take a bus back in a few days. To both of our surprise his friend no longer lived there. This was before cell phones and our ride had already left. We were alone and to make things worse (or better depending on your point of view) I left my wallet in the car that was on its way back to Arizona, and the kid I was with had no money. I did not answer a phone call and decide to take on a new identity, but as we were standing there stranded and homeless, we decided to see where this trip would take us. We, luckily, met a group of gutter punks who took a liking to us and welcomed us (the hippies as they called us) into their group. I spent two weeks on the street living with these kids, spare changing for food, booze, and cigarettes, leaving the life I led in Arizona in Arizona. I became a different person, took on different mannerisms, and made choices based on the situation I was in at that time. Thankfully the pages in my “red notebook” did not run out.
ReplyDelete-Jeff Tamburri
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