The Hair Analogy

As a child, Disney gave me some unrealistic expectations in regards to hair. I was never satisfied with my own hair. I wanted it to be Aurora-curly, Belle-brown, Ariel-long, and look as fantastic as Pocahontas' hair in the wind.

Amazing what her hair can do with a minimum amount of product.

I grew my hair long and the color turned out alright (Anne Shirley auburn, if you ask me). However, no matter how often I wished on a star, my hair never became curly. Guys, I eventually resorted to eating the crusts off my sandwiches!*

* Recent discussions have informed me that apparently not everyone grew up being told that eating bread crusts makes your hair curly. So here's your daily dose of folklore!

If I was Aurora, I would spend hours just whipping my hair to and fro. It's so BOUNCY!

After years of using lame hair products, curling irons, and one ridiculously bad perm, I accepted my fate. I have come to love my hair, and when I'm lucky, I even get to enjoy the occasional curly hair day.

Another important thing to know about my hair is that when little strands of it are exposed to rain, the beach, or a pool, I have a halo of Felicity-style curls. It's pretty much AWESOME.

See the itsy bitsy curls?

(Alright, alright, I'll start getting to the point!) So last week, after taking a jog in the rain and returning with a couple tendrils sticking out here in there, I got it in my head that maybe, under the proper conditions, the rest of my hair would just magically curl itself. I popped in the shower and helped myself to my younger sister's curly hair formula shampoo and conditioner. And you know what happened?

Absolutely nothing.

Mainly it just made my hair less shiny than usual, which made me kind of sad. Talk about a failed experiment! Now, for the analogy part of this post!

While I was trying to salvage my tired-looking locks, I came to the realization that I treat my writing a lot like I do my hair. I'm always wishing for it to be curly --- i.e., to be poetic and be perfect right off the bat. I'm constantly fighting any straight and/or wavy tendencies. I have to learn to see the beauty in the writing voice that I do have... and to appreciate the occasional curl that comes my way.

Anyone else fighting their natural voice, or their natural hair?

The Art of Persuasion

I just finished reading Jane Austen's Persuasion, and let's just say I'm a little overwhelmed... and making plans to reread every Austen novel ever. I'll tell you why!

When my dad convinced me to read Pride and Prejudice, I didn't really see much beyond the face value of the romance. And let's face it: P&P is an awesome romance. Lizzy and Darcy's love/hate relationship has inspired countless other love/hate love stories. (Plus, Darcy is pretty much one of the most attractive men in all of literature.) Meanwhile, my fourteen/fifteen year-old self had no appreciation for anything resembling "depth". It was a love story that made people think you were smart if you said you read it! What's not to like!?

Fast forward to eighteen year-old me closing her copy of Persuasion. I felt satisfied, and yet... This wasn't "bright, sparkling" P&P. I mean, I had giggled over Wentworth's swoonworthy declaration of love (give that man an AWARD), but still... Had I missed something? Wanting to read some more, I flipped to the front of the book to read the introduction essay.

Those who are attracted to Jane Austen because of nostalgia for the stability of class and clarity of old-fashioned values in picturesque English villages miss the most profound theme in her writing. Celebrated for simplicity, quaintness, and old-fashioned certainties, Austen in her last novel turns out to be complicated, thorny, and most of all, anxiously uncertain about the world developing around her. At times she appears to be talking herself into a "cheerful confidence in futurity." It is tempting to imagine where she would have taken this direction had she lived. But this novel was to be her final attempted act of (self-) persuasion.

Um, wow. That's a lot to swallow.

The extra bit of insight Susan Ostrov Weisser's essay provided had me analyzing every chapter, every character, everything. Furthermore, the essay called into question the Jane Austen stereotype: "sweetly old-fashioned, genially mild and reserved, spirited but primly spinsterish". The mysteries of Austen's character make her novels even more open to interpretation, if you ask me.

This comic makes me proud that Mansfield Park is my favorite one of her novels.

In short, I now want to reread all of her books and start asking some bigger questions. I'd highly encourage you to do the same!

Of course, this doesn't mean I'm going to stop enjoying period dramas from a nostalgic perspective. (see below)

Have you ever read a book and were surprised by the deeper meaning of its contents?