Wednesday, January 25, 2012

The College Board Essays, Part 1: Atwood and Addison

Senioritis is real. Like a twelfth-grade chemistry experiment, it requires a nucleation site to crystallize - but once it gets going, it quickly spreads forth, its wispy tendrils extending in all directions and ensnaring everything in its path. It took hold in our school as much as any other, with many students essentially abandoning schoolwork after the promise of a college admission. Some didn't wait for acceptance to start slacking off. Some, of course, had been slacking all along, and simply found senior year a capstone in a life of leisure.

As part of their slacking programs, several students made verbal mention of blowing off their year-end Advanced Placement (AP) exams, since their near future, they thought, was assured. Why not just skip the test, or treat it as a joke? Well, somebody decided to do just that, and after he did so, and publicized his exploit, other students followed. In fact, they were so proud of their work that they kept copies of it, and handed them to me immediately after the end of the test!

How did they manage this exploit? These are, after all, official standardized tests, and they are supposed to be tightly monitored. Well, in two of the cases (including today's excerpts), the students' tongue-in-cheek essays took so little time to write that they were able to fully copy out the text onto scrap paper and smuggle them out. As for the other...you'll see.

Our first exploits are two essays, written by the same person. The first is a racy, but rather legitimate, comparison essay on Homer's Odyssey and "Siren Song" by Margaret Atwood; the second is a combative deconstruction of an unknown work by Joseph Addison. Transliteration will follow below each image.



The mythical sirens are portrayed in 2 very distinct manners in these passages. While Odysseus describes the sirens as seductive spawn of satan that stir the very core of his unrealized sexual feelings, Atwood writes from the point of view of one of the sirens, saying that she doesn't enjoy the malicious tempting of sailors, and that she would gladly get away from the hellish island if she could.

The excerpt from the Odyssey is packed with fallic imagery and allusions to emphasize the feelings of the hero, tied to a mast screaming in heat. In line 10 "whitecaps stroke on stroke" is a phrase that shows how the strong, primal sexual fervor begins to rise within Odysseus. The sirens sing "moor your ship on our coast" (line 15), which can easily be interpreted as "we want to have sex with you," when clearly, the reader knows that these evil temptresses will not indulge the hero in any such activities. Odysseus speaks of the "honeyed voices pouring from [their] lips" (line 17). Again, this strong fallic image insights a sexual riot in the hero. Finally, as a counterpart to the "whitecaps" line that began Odysseus' sex drive, a phrase in line 20 marks the gradual fading of Odysseus lebido: "the heart inside me throbbed to listen longer." I don't think it was just his heart that was throbbing.



The character that wrote this journal has no life. He wastes his time writing down all the dumb and trivial things he does. What kind of an idiot writes about tying his fucking shoes in his diary? Addison's satirical purpose is completely achieved, for he successfully created a character that does nothing of importance. This guy's life is the perfect example of superficial aristocracy. Just like the phony rich people in Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray, this character does nothing but take care of himself and go to the club, coffeeshop, and field for a walk. When he walks in the field, he notes the way in which the wind is blowing. This act of stupidity can only be explained by the guy being stoned. He doesn't really put tobacco in his pipe, but he puts weed in it and gets stoned every day before he runs around in a field writing down that the wind is blowing Southeast. What a dumbass and a bitch faggot Addison has created in this passage.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

The Diary of A. Skank

Good grief... this is like a cornucopia of bad taste. Originally, this sheet was a ticket order form for the school's performance of the play The Diary of Anne Frank, but it was almost completely obliterated by a covey of eleventh-graders and transformed into a kaleidoscopic display of blue humor. Enter at your own risk...


Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Cathy, Queen of Cats

Here we have a personal reflection on Sandra Cisneros's Hispanic-coming-of-age novel The House on Mango Street, which came to me through a peer review. The student finds the character Cathy Queen of Cats most intriguing, remarking that perhaps she keeps so many pets so that "she can psychologically use them as friends because she has no others." In a moment of stark introspection, David reveals, "I can relate to Cathy's personallity [sic] because I know someone very much like her that I dislike." Maybe the teacher was impressed at his forthrightness; certainly the peer reviewer was not.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Symbolism

The ever-dependable John returns again; you may remember him from his many previous appearances. This time, the English class was asked to take out paper and spend a few minutes writing down common instances of symbolism. As always, John's take on the world deviates rather strongly from the norm. Did you know that "khakis" are a symbol of "dorkiness"? Or that "space" is a symbol for "out of this world"? "Green guy", we find, symbolizes "marshian" [sic], and many more!

His handwriting being almost illegible, I recopied his responses in the right-hand column shortly after receiving the piece; a transliteration will nevertheless follow, since both are now rather hard to read on the scan. But let that not dissuade you - some of the best stuff here is pictorial!


[heart] - love
[cross] - death
cigarette - cool being cool
marijuana - drugs
soap - cleanliness
backwards hat - being cool
khakis - dorkiness
space - out of this world
computer - 20th century
light - heali holiness
priest - holiness
monk - homosexuality
fireworks - excitement
kissing - love
the finger - hate
sex - love
church - holiness
yelling - rage
green guy - marshian
surfboard - california
[cycle sign] - recycle
[skull and crossbones] - pirates; death
[Mr. Yuk] - poison
[Pac-Man ghost] - ghost

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

I, Claudius Quiz

Another shortie today, a pop quiz on Robert Graves's historical fiction I, Claudius from ninth-grade history class. This is the closest I've ever seen to a 0% on anything - Alexandra got half a point for answering #8 correctly as "NO", but when asked to explain, she writes, "because" and then trails off.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Wuthering Heights

A short one today, on Emily Brontë's Victorian novel Wuthering Heights. A high school classic notorious for bringing girls to tears of sympathy and boys to tears of boredom, the book was the subject of a tenth-grade pop quiz, and the fellow who submitted this entry fared rather poorly. The crucial line is his answer for question #4; when prompted to explain the significance of Gimmerton (the home village of the local doctor Kenneth), he replies, "Gimmerton was the name of the town that the normal people lived in?" I guess, sometimes, it takes a child to point out what we knew all along but never wanted to say...

Monday, January 2, 2012

Ode to Psyche

The irrepressible Travis makes yet another appearance with this quiz, squirreled away in a folder I had forgotten about until now. Prompted to wax poetic in a manner following John Keats's immortal poem but "in a modern setting with contemporary myth like characters", Travis rhapsodizes on Bill and Monica, the epitome of late twentieth-century eroticism. As in Keats, the narrator stumbles upon paramours (here in the Oval Office, rather than the forest floor), and the sight sends him into delirious paroxysms of disgust, departing here significantly from the original. He received full credit for his efforts - boo yeah, grandma! Transliteration of the poem follows below.



Yesterday, possibly in dreaming
I wandered past the White House lawn
Peering through the dark, wrought iron gates,
I percieved [sic] beneath Washington's portrait,
Two lovers lying, half asleep,
The Oval Office desk being thy bed
Oh Monica! You were his lust's focus.
Vile, beastly, Jezabel [sic], where didst thou recieve [sic] thy frame?
From Weight Watchers, not God.
But thou art immortalized still,
Not in a church, nor praised by musician,
No holy text be thy resting place.
Thy temples are the tabloids,
Ne're [sic] in my mind will you reside
With a torch, I would set fire to thee!