Star light, Star bright....

For all that I did not care for Jobnik one page really hit me like no other.  The picture with the stars and the jets envokes so many thoughts and feelings.  When I first looked at the picture it was neat but the more I looked at it I couldn't help but feel the enormity of the situation.  Being in the desert in the middle of the night (especially once you're away from camp and/or civilization) gives you a feeling of awe and yet a sudden pang of fear.  You realize that you could get lost in the vast desert.  Then again you feel at peace because you have never seen the stars so bright.  Even for the unfaithful there is an overwhelming trust in the powers (or power) that be. 
I think for Miriam it was probably much of the same feeling but I also think she was feeling small and lost among everything else.  I think at times, and even most of the time, she felt insignificant.  It seems that there was this great puzzle but yet she didn't fit anywhere in it.  I believe Miriam also felt overwhelmed by the current events both in her life and globally.  Everything for her became so real so fast and even though there was the everyday there was also the extraordinary fact of when (politically) that everyday was and where it was.
Given so much criticism for the IDF and Israel as a whole the novel brings to light that at the end of the day we are all under the same stars.  Maybe in part that is what Miriam was saying.  We may all come from different places and faiths but we all sleep under the same moon and wish on the same stars.

Jobnik!

I have to say I was dreading a blog about Jobnik.  I really feel that I don't have much to say.  The only thing I can say is that it was realistic in that soldier life is not all cool stuff and bombs going off.  In fact the every day of it is often boring and mundane.  I think the story could have said so much more.  I didn't enjoy any real significant portions of the novel.
I did not like the art and I can usually find something about drawings to at least comment but the roundedness of all the characters (for me) just made the story seem so much less realistic.  I think that the story did an excellent job of confusing the reader and even that on some level that was part of the point.  I don't think the reader was meant to fully understand much of the story and was to some extent meant to come away with a feeling that would leave him or her wondering and wanting to know just a bit more.
For me the reading was hard to follow and largely unclear.  I have to say I even feel like it was a waste of my time.  I am not sure if I should read it again and look at it closer or whether to take my face opinion and just move on.  I would be interested to read more of Miriams work, it could very well give me some incite to her style and perhaps help me to understand Jobnik better!

Shaytlan

  The Rabbi's Cat may be inadvertently hinting at something that is just beginning to interest scholars and this is the Djinn.  I know it's a stretch but hear me out.  The Djinn are beings which Muslims believe can be good or evil.  They are nearly the equivalent of an angel or demon and they are very much creatures of will which means they can choose which they are.  The only place I found in the book that could be addressing this is in the food scene when the rabbi is eating all of the non kosher foods.  Muslims also believe in saying a prayer for unclean (or possibly unclean) food.  Many Muslims (and this is beginning to emerge in scholarly research) believe that the Djinn can eat from your food if you do not say the prayer before eating.  If the Djinn eat from the food than it is unclean, no longer halal, and the person eating the food has then tainted their body.
  The figure on pg 117 looks a lot like many pictures of the Djinn.  It is very subtle but it is also very possible.  I am sure this is also in part meant for the rabbi not just as an Islam reference but again I think it is a similiarity the author means to point out.  It is one most probably wouldn't notice but it is very interesting.
  The author also has the rabbi calling the cat shaitan on pg 8 and this is very close to the Arabic word Shaytlan which means satan.  I have to admit after hearing this I though for sure the cat was going to do something bad and it kind of ruined it for me.  I was again surprised with another similarity, not only linguistically but also the point the rabbi is making at the time he calls him shaitan.  At the time the rabbi says the word he reveals to his daughter that the cat only tells lies and is using his gift for nothing but trouble.  I think this means to be a lesson that we should use our gifts for good things and those who use them for bad may suffer the lose of their gift later on.  In addition telling the truth is also a commandment.
  Lots of little things going on in The Rabbi's Cat I can't help but look for similarities everywhere in this book now.  Maybe the Djinn thought is a bit of a stretch but seeing the demon like creature next to the food is something I have seen before in Djinn research.  Overall interesting.  If anyone knows anything about this stuff I would be interested to hear your thoughts.

The Knowledge

I couldn't help but get an overall feeling that the beginning of the book was all about genesis in many ways.  The first reason I thought of this connection is the realization or discovery after the cat eats the bird.  Once the cat eats the bird he is able to speak and even reason (because of knowledge) and is given a gift which could also be a curse.  He can no longer remain in the comfort of his mistress just as Adam and Eve could no longer remain in the Garden of Eden.  Even the rabbi says once you have left the garden you cannot go back implying that the cat has left the garden/place of innocence and has been changed forever by eating the bird aka the forbidden fruit.
There was another reference to the word of God and that is towards the middle of the book when Sfar and the Rabbi meet up.  Sfar is a singer and I even think represents the not written word, possibly the oratory traditions.  The rabbi would then respresent the written word and more patricularly the Torah (of course).  When the two head up the hill on pg 84 I couldn't help but think of the way the word was revealed to both Muhammed and Moses, in the mountain side.  This is of course another symbol on commonality and common ancestry.
My favorite part of the book was the middle, when Sfar and the rabbi meet and spend an evening talking, praying, and singing.  I enjoy the way the author wove in threads from each culture even though some you would not know unless you knew a bit about Islam.  The Sufi reference on page 87 was my favorite panel simply because even when you see islamic references it is seldomly specific to the mystical side of Islam.  I enjoyed the subtle linguistic hints from the author (words that were similar in both languages) even though overall I was not a big fan of the book.  The way culture was revealed (both subtly and outwardly) was thoroughly enjoyable.

More Maus

  I decided to write about Maus again because there was so much going on in part II and because it was my favorite reading of the week.  I talked a while ago about the name issue brought forth in Krakow and I'm further intrigued with the case as it's brought forward by Spiegelman.  "They took from us our names.  And here they put me my number" (Pg 26).  This panel was not only saddening it was also a flash of lost identity.  Becoming a number and no longer being a name or even a person was a very real plight.  I can't imagine the feeling of having everything (including your name) ripped away from you.  I noticed that even though the number was mentioned and even commented on by the priest it was not pictured very often in the book (two or three times).  I felt like Spiegelman was trying to convey lost identity while at the same time giving dignity to Vladek by restoring his identity in name (in the fact that he used the number sparingly in panel drawings).  The meaning of teh numbers was very interesting too.  It had a bit of a superstition feel to it however I think that above all hope was the most crucial thing a person had to have to survive such an experience.  The priest gave the hope to Vladek but I have to say a man of God (as he would be) seemed to have such little faith.  Was he sacrificing his own hope to give to Vladek or was he just so overcome that he had long given up hope? 
  I found the racism at the end of the book to be so ironic.  Given the discrimination that he and so many other Jews faced how could he be so full of hate against another person just because of their skin color.  This perhaps was not only truly the case but I think it was also an attempt (by Spiegelman) to remind readers of the Jewishness of the Holocaust.  What we see is Vladek having an issue with race not with religion.  This outwardly reminds us that the Holocaust was a Jewish experience.  While some scholars have tried to lump in other groups killed at the time (soviets, romanians, etc...) Spiegelman is directly refutting the claims and asserting its affect on Jews.  The Holocaust was truly a Jewish experience however many others were killed and I think Spiegelman is again trying to assert Jewishness as well as identity.

Where are we?

  There was definitely a lot going on in Maus in Part II.  One of my more favorite aspects was the panel changes.  I noticed at about page 25 the direction of panels changed and I found myself wondering which way should I read.  I noticed this came about the same time that the bulk of the focus was on Auschwitz.  Since we will never truly know how this experience was for the many who parished there we can only hope to experience some disorientation and confusion when we try to understand what happened and follow the story.  I've noticed also that confusion and disorientation is a common theme in Jewish memorialization of the Holocaust and is necessary to seperate the reader or common tourist from reality in that he/she may enter a different place and time altogether.  I also noticed that the sketch style changed a bit especially with the wooded scene on Pg 83 and surrounding pages.  There seems to be an attempt to use texture with the artwork to convey a meaning.  I'm not sure exactly what the analysis here would be other than seperation from time and place and transportation (as already stated above).
  The gentlemen who takes in the stray animals intrigued me as well.  I have to say right away I thought that this is obviously because had the Jews not had people to take them in and care for them even more would have parished.  Now the man is paying forward his good fortune (of having survived) by returning the kindness to hopeless animals who are without food, water, shelter, and most importantly anyone to care for them.  This action takes me back to Schindler's List when he begins to cry and states he could've saved "one more".  Pavel obviously has the same mentality, to save just one more and so Art states that his place is overrun with dogs and cats (Page 43).  While his shrink (Pavel) says he doesn't have any guilt about surviving the camps however I think this is a lot of the reason he takes in the animals.  He cannot get back the lives of those lost but he can save the animals, this is at least in his control.
  I could go on about Maus however I won't this in and of itself is a lot to think about.  I enjoyed the second portion of the book more than the first however overall it was a great read!

No Hero

Most of what we have been talking about so far has had a commonality...there is a happy ending or in other cases a hero.  What about the absence of protagonism?  Prager explains that there is no hero in Yossel and follows with a discussion of the desire of the "being there" or at least understanding the trauma.  Most childrens literature brings forth some lesson or even an ending which leaves the reader with some satisfaction, but a reading which causes such a large amount of questioning for children/teens...is thought provoking.
I have to say childrens literature has always fascinated me and the idea of taking out the hero and giving the story a facet of realism is a welcome change.  At the same time it is a bit frightening to think of how exactly such a types of literature could impact teens and even young adults.  Are we going from teaching a lesson to giving children the tools to make their own decisions? Do children need a hero?  What are we doing by taking this away? Reality so soon!
Even upon continuing the reading and learning about distancing tragedy vs. dealing with it I just can't shake all the questions.  I haven't taken many psychology classes so I'm not sure what the true psychological answer is here but I cannot help but think there is a benefit and a cost to both dealing and distancing.  It is always the wish of a parent to want to distance their child from tragedy but the truth is you can't...no matter how hard you try.  There has to be a point when we stop talking nice about things that are not so nice and admit to ourselves and to our children the things that happen in the world.  Losing a protagonist as a teen seems like a necessary evil however what about a little earlier? If children are so desensitized then why do we feel the need to shelter, protect, and present the hero.  So, what of the hero? Who was yours and is he/she still such?