Beast of No Nation

I've always had trouble engaging in dialectic 1st person narratives. It takes a while for a reader to become accustomed to its new language; it also makes the reader question whether or not the author will really be able to pull off creating a new language. And sometimes the reader can't know anyway. However, I find that this book works very effectively. It is pointing out two things: the horrific images of inhumanity and the psyche of a small child forced to be "grown up." By using the language of a child, the author conveys the extreme innocence of these children forced into war as well as their susceptibility to be manipulated by their superiors.

I also really like the metaphors and analogies Iweala uses, like the brain as "rotten fruit," and "mosquitoes on my skin," and others that strongly coincide with the landscape of Africa. I sort of feel like their are mosquitoes all over my skin while reading this book. To think that people are still living this way to day heartbreaking. I'm glad that he chose to do this in the 1st person, because the only way to see this situation is through the eyes of one whose been apart of it.

Reflections on drawing in class

This was my interpretation of the image on p. 66 with the blurb "We are the deliverers of divine justice!" I found this still particularly interesting. Of course the irony here is that divine justice cannot be delivered by man, and this man is the antitihesis of divine. Furthermore, he has no mouth as to say he has no voice or opinions of his own; he is a blind follower. His eyes are beady, limited in scope, while Siamak's wife's is wide open; it's almost as if she sees holy place above, far from the place the henchman believes he's sending her. This graphic novel is full of beautifully ironic stills that convey great pity for the oppressed and indignance for the oppressors.

I've turned this still into an almalgamation of all three henchmen, their penises penetrating Samiak's wife whilst their one giant head and set of arms strangle the woman. This frame reminds me of the article we read in Shakespeare's Tragedies regarding men's single phallic scope, as opposed to the woman's - or possibly a more androgynous (sensibility-wise) person's - ability to feel pathos and to understand the world on multiple levels. None of them have their own thoughts, so essentially, they are one person.

Manhood, Masculinity, and Machismo

Marquez seems to imply that this world might'nt exist if it wasn't for women. Ursula is the constant voice of reason throughout the book; Remedios the Beauty is innocent; Pilar allows lovers to embrace in her home, because she wants to see people happy; Petra Cotes's sex allows Aureliano Segundo's crops to prosper. It is the women in this novel that absorb the men's restlessness and help to heal their pain. They are able to live solitary lives, whereas the men cannot. The men must make war and womanize or they receed to depression and insanity. It's almost as if Marquez is implying that men can only be rational after they've made mistakes, whereas woman are innately rational. Furthermore, Marquez seems to imply that a man's virility reflects his ability to conquer, to war. Aureliano had 17 kids with 17 different women, and probably fought in 17 wars. Man, then, cannot control his energy; he constantly makes explosions until he implodes. It is the woman, then, that is stronger; who is the rock for the male. But in Marquez's patriarchal Colombia, this was not realized. In all of these women, he foils man's savage and wreckless nature.