In comparing the images of Bangladesh I with Bangladesh II as responses to the war, I think Bangladesh II provides a better reaction. We talked in class about how Bangladesh I was a retaliatory poem, and how this just perpetuates the cycle of violence. Revenge may be a natural, human response to injustice and violence, but it is not necessarily the right one.

Bangladesh II, on the other hand, responds in an overall better way. While the image of blood is strong and prevalent in this poem, blood can take on multiple meanings, as we discussed in class. We understand that in the context of war blood is a sign of violence and death. But ultimately I think Bangladesh II is a poem of cleansing, a poem of moving forward from this horrible and violent war in the right direction, instead of calling for retaliation.

Faiz first acknowledges the all-encompassing and inescapable hatred associated with war, in the images of blood covering everything. But then he suggests a forward motion with "let it flow" instead of it being "dammed up." Retaliation would mean more blood, in a sense, damming it up. Instead, everything will be purified as the dead are mourned for through tears. Thus, Faiz isn't asking for us to just pretend like nothing happened and move on, but to mourn properly for the dead, and in mourning, "wash this blood forever from my eyes."

I will also talk a bit about feminism and how it relates to So Long A Letter.

First of all, I agree with everyone who has said that women and men should not be thought of as being the same. This is like pretending to be "colorblind," which is ridiculous and does more harm than it does help. That said, I am not suggesting that one gender (or race) is better than another and should be treated as such, just that everyone should be treated with the amount of respect and value that they deserve, not based on their gender or race or whatever.

When I first read So Long A Letter, I didn't really like Ramatoulaye. I thought she was kind of pathetic. I read her as being just another woman upset that her husband left her for a younger woman, and someone who couldn't let go until he died. I think that is the only reason she stayed married to him, in hopes that he would one day realize that he loved her and would come back to her. I didn't see this as being feminist at all, or at least not intentionally. Ramatoulaye's feminism seems to come in after her husband dies, when she is reflecting on what has happened. I saw her protest against the idea of polygamy not as her taking a feminist or anti-Islamic stand, but her being mad that her husband was allowed to do what he did, and get away with it.

I did feel some pity for Ramatoulaye, because it is sad that she really loved and had 12 children with a man who just deserted her for their daughter's friend. But I felt that for the "first feminist book out of Africa," it didn't send a great message of how a strong woman handles things, at least to the Western reader. To me, Ramatoulaye was just a woman who wanted love, and that is why she didn't marry again- she didn't love anyone else who offered their hand to her.

I do understand why this book is seen as feminist. I think it is important that as Ramatoulaye is writing this letter, she is taking a stand against the polygamous marriage structure of her society. Since this happens to also be a feminist issue, she does a good job of at least voicing some concerns women should have that are living in that kind of a society. And we do get some hope of a better future through Ramatoulaye's two eldest daughters, who are married to or are marrying the men they love on their terms.

I fully agree with Miss Childs that Mohammed should join our class more often.

I am really enjoying Faiz's The Rebel's Silhouette. In some ways it reminds me of Walt Whitman (who found death "lucky" as Faiz finds death a "triumph.") Like Katie, I see a progression in Faiz's poetry (Whitman's Leaves of Grass similarly progresses in response to his life experiences).

"City of Lights" carries a lot of the same themes we discussed in class: having hope (as a survival instinct) in times of certain death, or utmost desperation. When I first read the poem, I imagined it in a literal sense- a city with "each patch of green, from one shade to the next," suddenly "becoming pale," and hidden behind "mist." With this image, I could imagine the poet and Faiz's (same person?) despair over what has happened to his ("my") "city of many lights."

So the first stanza gives us this image of undeniable heartache, then in the second stanza (the transitional one), the man, the poet, is trying to figure out what he can do to "return to you, my city," so his heart can regain some control over his retreating hopes. With this stanza I imagine a solitary man standing in front of this great lifeless city, feeling completely helpless.

The third stanza is what brings in hope, and the power of the individual in the face of such a great darkness. As the "lovers" of the city "turn the wicks of their lamps high," I imagine a bunch of individual lights gradually appearing in the darkness (in a cheesy Pay It Forward kind of way). This provides hope, and shows the power of the individual (working with a bunch of other individuals) to make a difference (Whitman also explored this idea relentlessly in his poems, but under the idea of pure democracy).

But Faiz and the poet also suggest the importance of more aggressive action than just turning on a light with words like "attack" and the image of his heart "storming" the city. This reminds me of the idea in the McKay and Thomas poems that one should not die quietly and gently, but nobly and fighting back. Faiz doesn't want a quiet or soft revolution for his city of lights.

I don't really want to talk extensively about my presentation because I will be writing my paper on it and I feel as though I talked enough about it in class on Wednesday. But there was something from the section we read for today (and a part that was referred to in class) that when I feel both relates back to the point of my presentation and adds a new dimension to it.
The part I am thinking of is India questioning the justice of Shalimar killing Max- after she finds out that there is a lot she doesn't know about Max's involvement in international affairs, she is wondering if "justice had been done to Max," or not.
I think this whole revealing of India's thought process or working through of the "why" concerning her father's assassination relates to a natural response anyone has in the face of tragedy, and provides a new way for Rushdie to enter some of his own agenda in the politics of the story.
This part has particular significance and familiarity in a "larger canvas" post-9/11 world. After the terrorist attacks five years ago, at least part of the population began to question not just why someone would be willing to hijack a plane to fly into a building, killing innocent people as well as themselves, but also whether or not there was some degree of culpability or something we as American/Western people had done to bring about such hatred to drive people to be suicide bombers.
In my opinion, as I am almost confident Rushdie would agree, there was not enough of this sort of discussion, and more of a retaliatory (Bill O'Reilly) type of response. That is what I believe is the purpose of that section, not just to keep India as a fully-fleshed out human character with natural human emotions and reasoning, but to enter into the mix a discussion of justice, and to point out that no one's hands are completely blood-free in the complex "war on terror." As Rushdie explains, "the words right and wrong" have begun "to crumble."
To relate this back to my presentation... What I am and was getting at is that Rushdie is an intelligent writer writing for an intelligent audience (ideally), and thus has a particular message or agenda he is trying to bring forth through a fictional, relatable story taking place in a real historical context. In the story of Shalimar and his family/friends in Kashmir, Rushdie is able to show that Kashmir is being destroyed through the fighting of India and Pakistan and the insurgency, and also subtly express that Kashmir should be left for the Kashmiris.
With India questioning the justifiable nature of her father's murder, Rushdie is reclassifying the average American person who sees Americans as the "victims" in a pure sense related to acts of terrorism, or is at least causing them to briefly consider the complex causation involved in the formation of terrorism movements such as what we saw on September 11.