A Glance into the Whirlpool:

Attempting to Get a Grasp on Human

Although it is not especially common in everyday conversation, the word 'human' usually has some sort of relevant meaning in many conversations. For some, 'human' might refer to topics of scientific matter, while its role in a separate discussion might entail something of the human condition, or human rights. I primarily chose 'human' in active anticipation of the challenge of wading through the unavoidably large amount of variations of definitions, as well as its own personal relevance. I am a lover of both deep pondering and science, particularly evolutionary science, and as it seemed to tie in rather nicely with both of those, I also knew going in that I would encounter many other uses for 'human' than expected. Oftentimes, 'human' is something we strive to understand and, in science fiction, something that artificial intelligence strives to achieve. Others might see 'human' as a representation of an entity, or as simply an adjective to described our condition. As a word that defines so many things in our lives, as well as a nature we do not yet fully understand, the connotations of 'human' hold relevance in nearly everything of interest today. On the level of everyday use, it serves as our identification, but once one engages into deeper conversations and inquiries into the origin of our species, 'human' becomes an elusively understood category of how we define ourselves, instead of a helpful tool with which to grapple knowledge.

While the origin of our species is not a question the science field will put to rest in any short amount of time ahead, the origin of 'human' is far more traceable and understandable. Its source lies in the Indo-European word root of 'manu', which initially appears to resemble a laminated list of dinner dishes, but upon further inspections reveals the origin of both the words 'man' and 'human' in many languages. (freedicitonary.com) Coincidentally and in a completely unrelated event, 'dghdem' is also believed to be the Indo-European word for earth, ground, or land, which, ironically, sounds a little like 'human' if you clear your throat a few times before attempting to voice it.(Yahoo Education) The Oxford English Dictionary, as well as the Middle English Online Dictionary, cites the word 'human' as appearing as early as the 13^th century, mentioned in the example of the definition of forshuppild as “Maga quedam est, transformans naturam humanam. Wreaððe is a forschuppilt..for ha reaueð mon his wit..& forschuppeð him from mon into beastes cunde,” as a distinguishing factor between mankind and the barbaric beast-kind. (Midd. Eng. Dict.) In addition to many closely related foreign variations of it, 'human' has carries many English spellings throughout the years, including those of 'humain', 'humayne', 'humaine', and 'humane', the last of which split from today's spelling to become its own distinct pronunciation and definition around 1730, in an appearance in an early dictionary. While still retaining some connotation of actions and behavioral standards, 'human' then took on a distinctive sway towards a definition for biological distinction. Earlier from this split, however, the primary appearances of 'humayne' found themselves in religious texts—usually accompanied by words like 'thenne' and 'creatour'. Use of this word in this context was often in a discussion of the 'nature humayne commune', 'humaine calamities', and the 'humane nature' in relation to biblical lore. The Latin root of 'human' is surprisingly 'human-us', meaning “of or pertaining to man.” The OED also notes the source of this root—'homo'. In addition, Early English entered into a phase of strange pronunciation, having the first syllable of 'humayne' bear the stress, but later switched to something resembling today's.

As comes naturally with any sort of religious definition, one of 'human's many meanings denotes a sort of inferiority in relation superior beings. 'Human' could be seen in this light as human flaws, or a natural human weakness. A reference to 'Christ' holds a testament to this meaning in John Pory's 'A Geographical Historie of Africa', with a reference to two separate natures: “one divine... the other humane.” (Oxford English Dictionary) Another reference in the English Standard edition of the bible, a direct snippet pretty much sums this up:

“I am speaking in human terms, because of your natural limitations. For just as you once presented your members as slaves to impurity and to lawlessness leading to more lawlessness, so now present your members as slaves to righteousness leading to sanctification.” (Romans 6:19)

It was around the time of the split from 'humane' in the middle 18^th century, that human started to connote a standard by which to measure other entities. 'With all speed humanly possible' is a representation to this, as well as the use of 'human affairs' and other such terms. The 18^th century also welcomed a change in attitude toward 'human' with a beginning element of human improvement tied with society and new investigations, although it still kept its air of limitation. Closer to the current time and the age of glorious technology, the 20^th century featured many uses of the word in a psychological or scientific setting, in many cases relating to the 'human sciences', as well as 'human relations', 'human resources', and 'human rights'. (OED) These have been noted, as can be seen in the OED, as an effort to replace such terms as 'the resources of man', 'man power', and 'the rights of man' with “more sexless speak.” Interestingly, the English International Dictionary's primary definition is a biological one, making direct connections with humankind as a species, as well as its history and *le gasp* evolution. It isn't until the third definition that 'human nature' is mentioned, and a sub-point of the same that mentions the earlier and quondam primary meaning referring to the supposed inferiority of humankind in comparison with the divine. As an international-type dictionary would suggest, the most contemporary and important definition would be first, which correlates with the social progress and the associated definition of being human in a modern reality.

Despite its split from 'humane', 'human' has by no means lost its ethical and moral nature. In fact, many of the intended meanings of 'human' before the official split hardly changed at all. The play-write and author and creator of current literary confusion, William Shakespeare, has more than a few occurrences of 'human' variations. Macbeth, a slightly well-known play about some Scotsman somewhere, features 'human's use as an implication of human emotion and judgment. With one of the Lady Macbeth's delightful monologues, 'human' is clearly taking the place of a descriptive of just actions: “What thou art promised: yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great[.]” (Shakespeare, 345) In essence, Lady Macbeth is telling her husband to stop with his fussiness and morality blubber and get on with taking advantage of his opportunities. Also, notably, in a separate play, which may or may not be 'Othello', written by the same, during the execution of his plot, Iago stabs Rodrigo promptly after which Rodrigo exclaims this delightful little remark: “O damn'd Iago! O inhuman dog!” (Shakespeare, 3215) It's not that difficult to look into the implications of the use of (in)human in this statement, which is clearly making use of its implications of reasonability.

Just as tellingly, various poems of Emily Dickinson, an American pioneer of unexpected and peculiar poetry, host the use of 'human' in reference to the human condition, rather than a moral or rank-related meaning. In her poem XXIV 'Reticence', the significance of the human nature is one in the face of precarious oblivion: “If nature will not tell the tale Jehovah told to her, Can human nature not survive Without a listener?” The use of 'human' neatly carries one of Dickinson's focuses—the odd imbalance and questions associated with immortality and humanity. In a slightly related poem, XXXV
'The Goal', 'human' is used in a very similar manner, pertaining to a universal and uniting factor among humankind, something that a fellow introvert would probably seek: “Each life converges to some centre Expressed or still; Exists in every human nature A goal[.]” 'Human' clearly does not have a common use inside the literary universe, let alone its outside.

This issue of humanity is also important among modern topics of pop-culture, focusing on the details of being human, as well as the consequences. 'Do the Evolution,' a notoriously grim music video released by Pearl Jam, focuses on the dark progression of humankind, and the resulting devastation. While the word 'human' itself is not directly mentioned, this music video is a clear reference to the bad elements of the state in which we live, and has so many allusions to humankind in general that it might as well bare that name. Whoops, guess that's actually the next song. Many examples of expressly 'human'-including media do exist, especially in the popular realm of music. (Pearl Jam) The Killers, a band quite well-liked among many groups, produced 'Human', a song about what I believe to be strong emotion connections with other people, although one can never tell with these strange indie songs. As is with most other strange indie songs, the meaning is disputed, as well as the spelling of 'dancers'. The chorus of the song, hopefully a commentary on our shared condition—I still can't be sure—makes some sort of statement, of which I haven't been able to figure out completely, despite hearing on the radio many times over the last couple of years: “Are we human or are we dancers? My sign is vital, my hands are cold And I'm on my knees looking for the answer Are we human or are we dancers?” The quest for any answers at all, especially if being human means being normal or extraordinary, as the song could possibly mean, stands out against past use of the word, when considering that it was really originally meant to remind people that they are better than animals, but not as good as gods, so don't get cocky.

Even before my journey into the research d'human, the word itself was still filled with possible meanings even without great pondering. Off the bat, 'human' is a reference to our species, while our fundamental nature is an extremely close second. Sadly, as is probably telling of our community, human-rights and human-aid were not the first things to leap out. Some of the modern meanings of 'human' cannot be found in the dictionary, however, but only in the shades of meaning behind the situation in which it is used. Lack of humanity, not acting like a human, human stupidity, form the unavoidable dark side of all definitions. Once the concept of acting like a member of the Genus Homo, species Homo Sapiens, has been established, the immediate existence of 'not acting normally' has been as well. For an average individual living in contemporary times, especially one growing up in a science-founded house-hold, the primary meanings of 'human' found in early usage and the Bible as proof of weakness and an inability to lead ourselves without any sort of babysitter overlord just isn't one that would dominate the field of definition vision.

However, the question of what exactly does it mean to be human is one of the most important that currently confronts us. With new finds in the scientific field, the limitations of 'human' need to extend to the reaches of biological differences, as well as applied to the conscious and the mind. The one unifying factor of all of the definitions mentioned in the OED and English International Dictionary, is the distinction of human beings from everything else. Either from the other lowly creatures on this planet to which we are obdurately denying any conscious similarities, or any sort of superior beings meant to guide humanity in its course, 'human' is a boundary between us and the world, just to feed our insecurity relating to exactly how and if we are different or even important in the universe. By fabrication this isolation, the very definition of 'human' has created a severely exclusive category to which can be added virtually nothing than our own kind. Although this may seem harsh, it should be considered that this is building from the most (literally) fundamental definition of human. (OED)

So, after all of this discussion, which words are comparable with the loaded rifle that is the word 'human'? Thesaurus.com, the most reachable tool for replacement speech without actively standing up from my desk, lists a colorful selection of words, some of which are entirely strange; among them are anthropoid, biped, civilized, creatural, fallible, fleshy, forgivable, hominal, individual, mortal, personal, and vulnerable. While 'civilized' and 'anthropoid' make sense, 'forgivable' and 'mortal' are a little shaky, especially without context. (Thesaurus.com) Without context, is 'forgivable' a reference to emotion, and the ultimately forgiving nature of whatever great being who obviously and blatantly guides our every action, or is it a reference to how humans are squishy in a fleshy sort of way? Needless to say, none of these words truly have as much significance to both history and literature as 'human' certainly does. An undoubtedly strange word, 'human' has changed in my eyes from nebulous meaning of any number of things, to an even-more nebulous possible reference to a huge variety of everything, from scientific human nature to an assumption of morality and the possession of skills needed for judgment.

PS: Hi Amy! I know you'll be getting up right about now!

I AM A HUMAN YOU ACT HUMAN WE ARE ALL HUMAN-ISH

As you can see from the title, my word is 'human'. At this moment, before virtually no research, the word 'human' has a TON of possible meanings. It could possibly refer to the state of being an evolutionary descendant of hominins, or possibly as a qualification for consciousness. It could also refer to morality: "Come on, we're in a mall! For the love of god, would you please act like a human?!"or "It's human nature to feel sympathy for others, which means you don't have to be a selfish monster!" It could also refer to emotion. At this point, 'human' is a pretty neat word.

As for why I chose it... It seems like a complex word. Also, humanity is fun to contemplate, so there.

Frankentstein and the Tradition of Realism

Artcle by George Levine

• Most ambitious characters in English novels tend to be ruined, so Frankentsein's fall isn't that surprising. In addition, his qualifications as a hero follow the normal and sometimes godlike qualities found in most realist heroes.
• Many of the characters are actually just reflections of elements of Frankentstein's character, and many of the characters are really just copies of each other.
• There is a distinct lack of scientific process and fact
• A distinct characteristic of alternating responsibility and irresponsibility follow all of the father figures in the novel
• The evil present in the novel is not necessarily instinctual, and Frankenstein's results unintentionally

In most ways, Sir Gawain has many of the traits needed in a Romantic hero, among them bravery, loyalty, and persistence. However, alongside the traditional aura of hero-goodness is a slightly dark element that seems almost more modern than romantic. While he is still the ideal character acting as the agent of good, namely offering his life for his king and pursuing an obviously strange challenger through wood and strange keep, Sir Gawain’s character is neither flawless nor honest. What seems like such a basic virtue for any hero to have is not completely present in Sir Gawain, which makes him more subject to comparison to a modern hero/protagonist. In this case, that modern hero is Harry Potter.

Easy similarities can be found in their respective worlds; both live in realities where magic is common and oftentimes the source of malevolent sources, and both worlds have environments that hold mysteries fueled by dark powers. The most important feature each character has, however, is the lack of a perfect moral track record. Despite being expected to practice total and rational honesty by the reader, each character has a lying streak. While neither of the characters are compulsive liars committed to sabotaging their own existences with un-truths, a common mistake made in each case is the employment of lying. Sir Gawain tells a simple lie to Sir Burtilak in the face of the attempted seduction made by Lady Burtilak, to protect the two of them when the exchange of the day’s hunting comes about. Harry lies with greater frequency, but primarily as a measure to cover up what he believes to be even more curiosities in his life. Although, for significantly different reasons, the same ability to lie when deemed the most practical option in a situation definitely makes Sir Gawain more easily viewed beside today’s flawed protagonists.

Outside of obvious character flaws, Harry and Sir Gawain are fairly similar, despite one of them being an active student and the other’s position as an Arthurian knight. Both of the characters have definitive parties of foes involved through long periods of time. While Morgan le Fay is the commonly-used villain in the tales of Arthur’s court, Voldemort and his Death Eaters are the malicious force behind every book of the Harry Potter series. Just as King Arthur is the reigning figure in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Dumbledore acts as the guiding presence directing Harry’s efforts. The Knights of the Round Table have with them the same bond which ties together Harry, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. Both characters complete grand quests filled with long journeys and confusing mysteries, but each still lies in self-interest, whether it is Harry’s lies throughout the series to Dumbledore or Gawain’s singular lie to Sir Burtilak.

Although one character is created notably earlier in real time than the other, nothing truly separates the moral conduct and values of Harry and Sir Gawain. What appears during his stay at Burtilak Keep is an element of slight moral grey common to today’s literature, but seemingly unexpected in such a traditional portrayal of a Romantic hero. (quotes will be added)

The Burial Mounds of Sutton Hoo

The burial site of Sutton Hoo lies across the River Deben from Woodbridge, an English town. Before the beginning of the excavation of the burial mounds during World War II, the 6th and 7th century sites had been thoroughly raided by scavengers and investigated by the property owners, leaving behind little else but small trinkets to indicate the presence of any significant discovery. Despite the initial lack of results, the dig recommenced at the end of the war, taken over by national experts to continue on into the 1990's. The most important discovery of the site is the 90 ft long, 15 ft wide ship, which is considered one of the most important archaeological discoveries found in England. There are many artifacts found on the burial ship that indicates that the burial itself was for most likely for a king. These artifacts include a scepter topped by a ring and stag pendant, a hearty collection of swords, shields, mail, and a helmet inscribed with scenes of German and Scandinavian mythology. In addition, another mysterious object found at Sutton Hoo is an iron rod presumably part of a standard. The quality of the gold work has led experts to believe that the craftsmen responsible for the work must have been on  some type of royal commission. As of this point, no body has been identified in the site, so the burial mounds of Sutton Hoo are most likely a monument honoring someone buried elsewhere. The site itself fits the style of those burials in 'Beowulf,' one of the factors classifying the artifacts in the 6th and 7th centuries.

A Very Rough Draft

                I did not enter into reading Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights with high expectations. In fact, I entered that particular reading with expectations set well below my normal level of tolerance, and only chose to read it out of necessity, as it was the only book in my possession in between library trips. I had expected a book with a flimsy, romantic plot held together by a smattering of intolerably corny characters. Wuthering Heights is not the book that I had expected. There is no way to fall in love with Emily Bronte’s characters; even those that appear to be archetypal individuals quickly take on extreme personalities and, in most cases, some degrees of ugliness. Those elements that grant the book great story-telling are the bizarre selection of characters, and the disarmingly unpredictable plot.

                Although Bronte’s settings include none of the extraordinary situations or true external interventions that drive some other books, Wuthering Heights still has an unmistakable line of plot through feeding off of the characters and personalities instead. Bronte is able to create painfully unusual characters that break from the reader’s expectations—namely Heathcliff and Catherine Earnshaw. Where a modern reader might expect to find a tale of the underdog following Heathcliff’s introduction into the plot, this is quickly abandoned by revealing the manipulative nature of all the characters. His actions are obsessive to a point of insane, which is only magnified by his ugly personality, the center of Bronte’s tale. While there is no fantastical world that could swallow the reader in intricacy and detail, Bronte has no need of alien settings or disturbing environments in her novel, all of the conflict possibly needed is easily provided by her unsettling human creations.

                However, Bronte’s novel follows the mode of story-telling a wee bit too closely, especially when considering the role of the irrelevant narrator. Serving only to introduce the reader to the dark enigma that is Heathcliff, and as an excuse to check in with the second generation of characters down the road, the character of Mr. Lockwood is ultimately of little consequence in any part of the story. Other than the means by which to introduce the actual plot, his character is distracting from the actual story. Although it could be argued that he serves as a window into Wuthering Heights from an outsider’s eyes, just as much could be accomplished with a less cumbersome means of storytelling.

Well, I'm sure there are more books that have had significant effects on me, but they're not coming to mind just yet, so here we go!

1.) The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver
This book left with me in a funk that I couldn't shake for two weeks. Kingsolver has an incredible way of tormenting the reader and characters with excruciatingly terrible and horrific situations, through both their foreign culture and environment as well as the Price family's inner dynamics.

2.) The Shining by Stephen King
The Shining was my first King book, as well as my first reasonably intense psychological horror book. Not only did this book persuade me that seriously creeping people out is perfectly okay, but it also ignited my love of horror literature.

3.) The Talisman by Stephen King and Peter Straub
The Talisman has a flavor that is in shortage in most King books, but is present in a great deal of Straub's short stories. Whereas The Shining began in me a love of horror, this particular creation is a door into the insane. Black House, the lesser sequel to The Talisman, lacks what makes its successor so great. Not only does The Talisman completely move outside reality and traditional conventions in story-telling, but it also completely destroys any comfort zone that the reader could have possibly established in a previous part of the book.

4.) The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
This book is far different from any other books I've read, save for those by George Orwell. The Handmaid's Tale taught me how to write a character whose mind had been completely immersed into one way of thinking, grown out of one in which the modern reader is more comfortable. Offred is an incredibly disconcerting character in the fact that she experiences an American upbringing familiar to the reader, but still undergoes an intense change in personality and mind by the pressures of the right-wing extremist regime.

5.) The Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling
Rowling's writing isn't phenomenal, nor is it especially descriptive, but shows an incredible presence of imagination. This series literally introduced thousands (or more) children into an incredible childhood full of magic and general Potterverse creativity.

6.) City of the Beasts by Isabel Allende
Possibly one of my favorite books as a youngling, City of the Beasts is a fun and significant book all around. It ties in darker themes in with the lighter in a mixture subtle enough to not traumatize any reader under the age of 13.

7.) The Supernaturalist by Eoin Colfer
Despite not being an especially notable book of quality, Eoin Colfer is hilarious to the immature audience in most of his literature. Scifi is another addiction of mine, and this book was just easy enough to grasp for my incapable little mind that I absolutely loved it.

8.) Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut
I don't... I really... I really don't even when it comes to this book. ಠ_ಠ