Classwork

Norse Myths: ALL Team Classwork Activities

Team 6: What is Loki’s purpose as a character? (Food for thought: How does Loki serve as a reflection of humanity?) Can trickery ever be harmless or even good? How does trickery thematically function in Norse Mythology?
Depicted as a cunning and clever, Loki embodies the "trickster" character in Norse mythology. Loki uses his mischief to play practical, lighthearted jokes, as well as to evade responsibility from more serious consequences. Although his mischief serves as a convenient catalyst for conflicts in many Norse myths, Loki also functions as a symbol of human behavior. For example, Loki is imperfect. He lies, cheats, and deceives-- sometimes out of necessity-- but mainly just because he thinks it's fun. This is a representation of humanity's vices. Furthermore, Loki's tendency to defy the status quo represents the existence of different opinions within a wider conversation. Loki's clever insights always bring a different perspective-- sometimes it's positive, and other times it's not. Regardless, this demonstrates how adding different opinions and outlooks into a conversation results in more valuable discussions. By representing the duality of playfulness and destruction, Loki represents the nuance that exists within the realm of human behavior and thought.

Team 5: Does awareness of fate change the justification for revenge?
I think it is possible to argue that the awareness of fate changes whether or not an action is defined as "revenge" at all. For example, in the case of Odin and Fenrir, since Odin's prophetic vision already told him what would become of Fenrir, Odin's choice of whether or not the commit the act of changing Fenrir would not have changed the final outcome. Knowing this information does not negate the fact that Odin betrayed Fenrir's trust.

Team 4: As it is human nature to find out about the unknown, how has curiosity been portrayed across tales? // How is the cost of knowledge shared across cultures?
The theme of curiosity reminds me of the Garden of Eden. When Eve makes the decision to eat the apple from the Tree of Knowledge, it's seen as the beginning of original sin. Consequently, Eve is at fault for making the first human error which resulted in the presence of evil in our world. However, it's possible to see Eve's decision not as an act of original sin, but rather as an act of original thought. For the first time in the world, a human committed the act of making a choice-- of exercising free will over their own lives. I think this represents the duality of human inquiry. Curiosity is good because it encourages us to make sense of our lives and to take control of our own knowledge. Yet at the same time, knowledge can be dangerous. Still, I think there is something powerful about how seeing the eating of the apple as the first sign of original thought rather than original sin. The ability to think and make decisions for ourselves (whether it's "good" or not) is a part of what it means to be human.
The fact that Odin was willing to do so much in order to get the mead of poets demonstrates exactly how important the gift of poetry of knowledge was to him and the rest of the gods. Furthermore, the fact that Odin-- who gave up his own eye in order to gain the gift of wisdom-- was the one who went after the mead further reinforces the importance of knowledge in Norse society. Additionally, the Greeks worshipped Athena, who was the embodiment of the balance between strength and wisdom. Similarly, Neil Gaiman describes Kvasir "the joining of the Aesir and the Vanir .., the wisest of the gods: he combined head and heart."

Team 3: Loki throughout this tale made promises that he ends up not fulfilling. What lesson are the Vikings trying to convey in regard to trust and in regard to merchants?
The connection between trust and merchants relates to the Viking lifestyle. Out at sea, the Vikings interacted with many different people-- particularly merchants. It makes sense for their myths to depict Loki (a symbol of merchants in this story) as shady and untrustworthy because Vikings most likely came into contact with many grifters during their adventures. The Viking lifestyle required the Vikings to be hyperaware of their surroundings in order to protect their treasures, supplies, and lives.

Team 2 (My Team's Presentation): Life in the Viking Age: War and Love
While analyzing Thor's character in "Hymir and Thor's Fishing Expedition," my team used the evolution of morality to dissect Thor's character and to try to understand his appeal to Norse society. First, we had to understand the historical context of the Viking Age. The value system of the Norse was a direct reflection of the society that spawned it. Out at sea, the Vikings had to be strong and courageous in order to survive. Life was tough-- Vikings had to raid villages, fight off enemies, man their ships to take on the relentless sea, and brave the bitter, winter cold. Therefore, it makes sense for their most respected god to be Thor-- the perfect embodiment of power and bravery. Even if Thor doesn't seem like the perfect hero through the lens of our modern value system, he was beloved by the Norse because his strength ensured survival.
Furthermore, we connected the idea of the harshness of Viking life to the theme of "love" in the story of "Frey and Gerd." While it may seem surprising for a tough society of Vikings to value something like romance, love was actually one of the most important values in Norse society. The importance of love is demonstrated by Frey's ultimate sacrifice, when he gives up his sword for the hand of Gerd. Perhaps the importance of love in Norse society can also be explained by the historical circumstances that surrounded the Viking Age. Because life was brutish and short, love was valued even more.

Team 1: Drawing Activity
(Not pictured.) Captured in Team 1's Video Lesson.

Blog Posts

Blog #4 (06/07/2022)

Review of Zeitoun by Dave Eggers

The end of the world starts with rain. Or-- in Zeitoun’s case-- a canoe. In the bestseller Zeitoun, Dave Eggers narrates the true and tumultuous account of Syrian immigrant Abdulrahman Zeitoun as he lives through Hurricane Katrina. Zeitoun-- stubbornly faithful to his work as a painter and contractor-- remains in New Orleans to watch over his clients’ property while Kathy and their four children evacuate the city. But it is only after the destruction passes that Zeitoun’s story accelerates into something like dystopia. After reading World War Z, I found Egger’s account of Zeitoun’s spirit and character to be incredibly profound. It was difficult to keep reminding myself that this story was not fiction but indeed someone’s reality.

The pull of Zeitoun extends far beyond its riveting subject matter. Perhaps the most compelling aspect of this biography resides within Eggers’s writing. For example, Eggers creates suspense by regularly switching between the limited perspectives of Zeitoun and Kathy. Eggers reconstructs scenes from Zeitoun’s life with a balance of flashbacks, description, and dialogue. This reminded me a lot of how Max Brooks crafted storylines in World War Z by first developing intriguing characters first-- which hooked the reader. Similarly, Eggers’s compassionate narration draws the reader deep into the lives of Zeitoun and Kathy, making readers fall in love with the Zeitoun family over and over again.

Zeitoun’s story is undoubtedly tangled in the political consequences of the United States’s “War on Terror”-- an unprecedented campaign against terrorism following the tragedy of September 11. Zeitoun’s unjust arrest paves the path for a conversation about the systemic wounds in many American institutions. Following Zeitoun’s traumatic accounts of his incarcerated life, Eggers’s “hands-off” narration style fades; the book reads less like a biography and more like a piece of literary journalism. Eggers writes, “... quite clearly, this wasn’t a case of a bad apple or two in the barrel. The barrel itself was rotten.” Eggers is forthright in his analysis of Zeitoun’s experience, skillfully weaving issues of social injustice into a compelling biography. Furthermore, Eggers builds upon this critique through the poetic and complex nature of Zeitoun’s story. Zeitoun’s family is not only devastated by the natural wrath of mother nature-- they are failed by America’s federal institutions, too. This quiet commentary was probably my favorite part about reading Zeitoun. Similarly, in World War Z, I found myself most interested in Max Brooks’s careful creation of the geopolitics in a zombie-infested world. Despite being written years ago, these books feel entirely "new," demonstrating how social awareness and critical analysis should always find a place in our conversations about both literature and life.

But the book is not entirely dark. Even in the flooded mess of his neighborhood, Zeitoun’s unyielding sense of hope prevails. Through Zeitoun’s eyes, readers meet the resolute residents of New Orleans as Zeitoun ventures into the city, rescuing civilians and animals. A practical man, Zeitoun braves the worst of the storm with an attitude that is unmistakably promising. Furthermore, Eggers cuts the dramatic nature of the memoir by describing seemingly insignificant activities (Kathy running her hands through her daughter’s hair, Zeitoun lying down to smell the strawberry shampoo on his daughter’s pillowcase). Although these details seem mundane, they add a relatable and humane third dimension to these characters. Above all, family and religion are the ultimate forces that propel Zeitoun through the events in this book. While Kathy and the kids bounce between neighbor and friend to find comfort, Zeitoun nestles himself deeper into his community. In their most desperate and overwhelming moments, Zeitoun and Kathy pray. Eggers perfectly weaves these threads of faith and love into every corner of Zeitoun, reminding the reader that this is not a story about destruction, but a story about restoration. “Yes, a dark time passed over this land,” Eggers writes, “but now there is something like light.”

Zeitoun is an exceptionally crafted biography. This family’s story is searing, and their love is deafening. I find myself forgetting that this is a work of non-fiction-- that these stories belong to real people-- and that Zeitoun is still out there: rebuilding and rebuilding and rebuilding.

Blog #3 (03/16/2022)

My favorite part about reading Grendel was analyzing Gardner’s carefully constructed imagery and symbols. I was really amazed by the depth of Gardner’s writing, the precision of his language, and his ability to layer so many concepts and symbols into one cohesive narrative. I feel like Grendel is a novel that I can reread many times over and still find new connections in. In class, my group and I analyzed the significance of snow in chapter nine, and we concluded that snow symbolized the inevitability of death. Typically associated with winter, snow represents the coming of the final season– the season of death. Throughout the novel, the changing of seasons aligned with Grendel’s coming of age story. For example, springtime represented Grendel’s youth and naivety, while autumn represented Grendel’s maturation. Now that winter has arrived, it’s likely that this is an indication of a major change in Grendel’s life. I found it really fascinating how snow also served to foreshadow the coming of Beowulf. Unlike other examples of foreshadowing (such as the old woman warning of a “giant across the sea” in chapter ten and of the dead hart in chapter nine), the snow in chapter nine is a much more subtle reminder of Grendel’s fate. Furthermore, snow symbolizes death because it falls on everyone and everything– the same way that death touches all life. Throughout the chapter, Gardner describes snow falling on everything, including the priests, the animals, Grendel, and even the physical world itself. Gardner even writes, “the town is dead.”

Additionally, in the same chapter, Ork identifies time as humanity’s greatest enemy because it is what causes everything in life to decay and wither away. In this way, snow can also be seen as a symbol of time, which, like death, spares nothing. This reminded me of an excerpt from a book I read last year by physicist Brian Greene titled Until the End of Time. In a chapter about time and thermodynamics, Greene explains how the second law of thermodynamics powers a theory that may lead to the heat death of the universe. Brian Greene describes it like this: “anything that thinks may burn up in the heat generated by its own thoughts. Thought itself may become physically impossible.” I was extremely unsettled the first time I read this passage. I remember grappling with the same questions Grendel asked himself throughout the novel. So what? What’s the point? But in Grendel, the humans seem to have it all figured out. They have the Shaper. They have poetry, religion, and meaning– and this is enough. While reading Grendel, I immediately thought of Brian Greene because throughout his novel (which reads almost like a love letter to existentialism) Greene explains how mathematics, language, creativity, and religion all help us forge our own meanings in life. He quotes Toni Morrison: “We die. That may be the meaning of life. But we do language. That may be the measure of our lives.” Personally, I hope to embrace existentialism so that I can fully embrace every moment I am lucky enough to know. I love the idea that I can decide for myself what I want my life to mean– because if I can believe in anything, why not believe that life can be beautiful?

This idea of seeing past ideological divisions in order to find shared humanity is timeless– and it resonates now, in our modern political climate defined by polarization and antagonism. America’s hyper-partisanship is reflected by the steady decline in congressional productivity, as well in the general political atmosphere surrounding the public. Furthermore, hyper-partisanship is exacerbated by media polarization. Online, citizens are able to divide themselves into echo-chambers and virtual “factions” in which they can reinforce shared beliefs, resulting in more extreme ideological differences between different groups. This is particularly dangerous for American democracy because it makes compromise and effective communication more difficult than it already is. This is where the sentiment of “loving your neighbor” comes in. Although it might seem too idealistic, I think that this whole process of “depolarizing” America starts with this concept of looking past divisions and trying to find ways in order to compromise. Of course, I’m not trying to say that we should look past ALL divisions; healthy debate and disagreement is what keeps democracy alive. However, I feel like the United States’s hyper-partisanship is preventing these key discussions from happening– especially on online platforms where it is easy to antagonize others. Perhaps embracing the idea of “loving your neighbor” means making room for recognizing the humanity that exists in all people in order to create a level of respect that facilitates effective communication. This will hopefully make room for more nuances in our political conversations.

Writing Pieces