This article appealed to me because the story reminded me much of the dynamic at my household as a child. It seemed as if it were a weekly affair where my dad would come home, open the garage door, and find that his parking space was now occupied by my mom's newest "treasures" that she found at the local thrift store or garage sales.
Saturday mornings she would always try to drag me away from the cartoons I was intently watching with my sister and convince us to join her. She always won too, simply explaining that I was far too young to stay at home alone. We would always return home, back of the minivan packed full of stuff that to this day I lovingly refer to as "crap," and jam it into one of many storage areas around the house.
The saddest part of all of it? I didn't grow up in a simple suburban neighborhood, but rather on a 10 acre lot a little bit in the country. We had a house. A garage. Two barns. And yet they all overflowed. My mom always had a grand plan for this stuff, dreaming of how she would refinish and restore the more valuable pieces, eventually returning them to the consignment shop to make a profit. Yeah, that never happened. She just hoarded the junk instead.
A couple of weeks ago she was talking about looking for a new house and possibly moving into town. I think we both secretly know that's never going to happen, but I'll let her keep that dream alive for just a little bit longer.
At first the author only reveals what she wants those in her life to see, the persimmon as a valuable, tasty, healthy fruit. Nothing more, nothing less. However, as the piece reaches its end, it becomes clear that there is more of a passion behind the persimmon collection than she would like to let on. This turning point really gave a sense of how personal this writing really was, as she is admitting to the reader what she can't quite seem to admit to herself or others in real life.
Although the woman in the article has a special passion for items very different than those I was part of collecting as a child, her writing just seemed to remind me that our cultures really aren't that different at all. She collected Persimmons, and my mother collected junk. Maybe it's just a Mom thing, who knows.
Reid
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/04/01/magazine/01funnyhumor.t.html
11 comments:
Okay, Reid: you better get on it and write a post about this. You're past deadline. . . .
I want to know why you chose to post this as your personal essay pick. What did you think worked particularly well? How is the story constructed? What narrative devices does she use and what does the narrative arc look like? Does the "I" character change, or experience a "turn" by the end?
Come on, Reid, you have to give us more than a link!
Cut me some slack, I still really have no idea what I'm doing.
I got it now, I'll post up.
This article made me laugh lout loud, literally. I grew up in a house where "hoarding" was not acceptable; my mom was known for her enormous give-away bags every week. While reading this article I felt as if I was holding a conversation with the author. Her writing style was straight to the point and really concise, but I never felt like I was missing a section of the story. The topic seemed so trivial at first but she writes in a way that makes the Persimmons seem so important. I never once felt as if she was lamenting over a stupid fruit, I shared her passion for Persimmons for a solid three minutes. Funny how a simple story about a woman's interest in a certain fruit can be such a large window to her character and her personality.
What i particularly liked about this piece is how the author, Firoozeh Dumas, immediately informs the reader of her intentions of creating a personal piece by including herself and her family. She uses her own personal reflection but also switches things up by adding personal accounts of people she interacts with. She is especially effective in striking upon an issue that a wide audience can relate to in relation to a relationship between parent and child. Although the reader may not relate directly to Dumas' issue of preserving food, it seems there is always something, often many things, that parents do that seems quirky or just downright questionable to a child growing up.
She is able to keep the reader engaged throughout the highs and lows by always going back to the interplay between herself and outside observers. for example, she sets up a scenario that seems ludicrous to others (imagery of 400 persimmons layed out side by side in a single room sounds and looks crazy to me), but retorts that this immediate response is due to the lack of understanding of the persimmon fruit.
An interesting subplot tied in with her family was the conception that foreigners enjoyed persimmons while Americans didn't, although she never really defined what was American or not. This eventually leads to the comical, or should I say ironical, turning point of the story in which the Tonga men favored the fuyus. She built this up well for the last laugh or pinnacle of the story, as this subplot hinted at it all along. By being able to tie this together with her family in the end resulted in a humorous linking of themes/ideas that she was trying to convey from beginning to end.
I really agree with Lickel about the multiple sub plots and themes at work in the piece. I think it's a perfect example of the extraordinary in the mundane. Here we have a simple fruit about to ripen and one woman and yet, it all sort of explodes into a greater commentary on her family, herself, identity, futility, etc. I love that.
I also really enjoyed the writing. The quick pace pulled me through and I appreciated the use of dialogue, though sparse. I think Dumas captured that voice that Kramer illuminated--intimate, self aware but not egotistical, ultimately entertaining.
Good choice, Reid.
I found this article humorous and easily related to. Everyone seems to have that little foible that can relate them to this article. My great aunt had collector plates that caused a huge headache when she passed away. The author did a great job in making an article that could speak to just about anyone, I felt enthralled to find out what was going to happen to all the persimmons--even though I don't know what they are--it seems so funny that such insignificant little things can make for good stories.
I agree with Lauren, it was very clever how the author took something as mundane as persimmons and translated it into a narrative with the various subplot. I loved the imagery of 400 persimmons and the fact that no one else understood the meaning behind them. Little details, such as the fact that the woman was afraid to ask her own neighbor if she could pick them are subtle glimpses into this woman. Good pick.
Cute. The women in the articles posted for this week have been performing their gender roles so well!
I wikipedia'd persimmons and now I know all about them.
Like Lauren, I enjoyed the quick pace. Also, I thought she incorporated the quotes very well, allowing the piece to flow as if the writer is actually there telling you the story.
I would edit the following sentence:
"He was so much bigger than I. I put the fuyus in a small bag and thanked the men."
The "I. I" looked strange and "bigger than I" didn't cut it for me. I wanted to hear about his lovehandles or something. A little embellishment wouldn't have hurt.
Lauren touched on how Dumas wrote about the "extraordinary in the mundane." In the Art of Literary Journalism handout, Norman Sims writes, "At a time when journalism seems crowded with celebrities, literary journalism pays respect to ordinary lives...and and the genres classics deal with the feelings and experiences of commoners." This story, as well as the It's Natural to Nurture story that Wendy picked are perfect examples of the extraordinary in the mundane. A story as simple as picking fruit and trying to give it away can hold our attention and reveal much about the writer.
I also enjoyed reading this article. Several parts of the article definately struck a chord with me and reminded me a great deal of my childhood. First, I laughed at the two neighborhood children who were "recruited for an undisclosed 'fun activity.'" When I was younger, I was constantly recruited for this activities by being promised a "fun activity", which included volunteering for a church group on my own birthday and cutting down a tree when I thought I was getting lunch (both of which were I was lied to my friend Tony Rowe's mother). Second, my Mom would also always buy whatever our little cousins were selling, whether it was girl scout cookies, fruit baskets, or even magazines, and attempt to pass them all off on unsuspecting visitors to the house.
It seems like this article was a big hit. I also found it to be a great read. I like how she bases her story on such a random subject, a persimmon. But by layering different stories on top of one another, we learn more about her character than the persimmon. It is an interesting approach to examining the different cultures in California...and in America. Her style of writing makes me appreciate these slight differences between groups of people.
Post a Comment