|
|
Post by Jason Parris on Oct 2, 2013 20:03:02 GMT
 What was the best conversation you had today? Why? |
|
|
|
Post by haleyjensen on Oct 2, 2013 22:29:11 GMT
The best conversation I had today was with Yong, Chris and Madison in response to the mathematical equation prompt. Yong and Chris, and Rishi at a different table, all thought of the same mathematical equation for nirvana and samsara. I believe what they said was sine x/sine x... I could be totally wrong because I haven't taken calculus and am not sure if I remember that correctly. However, what I do remember is the feeling of having different areas of school overlap. My first reaction to the equation prompt from class was "oh no not math, this is English class." But yet, it might have been math that helped me learn English today better than English helped me learn English. The idea of the graph is that it oscillates around zero, but never actually hits zero. This is similar to how in samsara, a person just kind of wanders on, but never really reaches an end. (Anyone who understands that equation would be able to explain that way better than I just did).This conversation rocked because it was a culmination of a few other conversations from class today. Here's what this conversation helped me figure out...
1) Time: I think part of the reason for my initial aversion to the prompt is because in the culture and era we live in, life is very time oriented. I am scheduled to show up to English class for an hour and a half every other school day. I am also scheduled to have science and math classes, among others. It's interesting to ponder whether or not I subconsciously think that my most intensive learning for a subject takes place in that subject's class. It's hard for me to think about time not existing in a linear fashion, because that is all I am used to. That's why it would be a lot easier to answer, "what did you learn about math?" after coming from math as opposed to English. In regard to time, Siddhartha said, "This only seems so because we suffer the illusion that time is something real. Time is not real, Govinda" (143). I flat out disagree with this, but my experience today helped me figure out why. I don't think time is nonexistent, I think time is way bigger and more complicated than we could ever wrap our minds around.
2) The art of learning: In another one of my table groups, we discussed learning vs. acquiring knowledge. Somebody posed the question, "did anyone learn anything from this book?" I found out some interesting information, but nothing frame shaking that is going to change the way I live my life. However, I don't like to limit learning to just finding out information that will change the way I live or perceive things, because if that were the case, there would be a few days that I would not learn anything--that sounds terrible. With that said, I'm still developing a working definition of learning. This idea was brought to my attention in my math conversation today because it was really cool to see Yong and Chris remember and apply something to English that they learned in another class. Sure, it sounds cheesy, but it was one of the moments where I saw something I take for granted (the ability to learn) as really, really cool.
So, why was the math conversation my favorite conversation today? Because it provoked me to appreciate things that I too often consider mundane.
|
|
|
|
Post by betsyrahe on Oct 2, 2013 23:12:05 GMT
Wow Haley. That conversation poses some really cool ideas. My favorite or best conversation I had today was from the prompt about time. Siddartha says time is merely an illusion, and I agreed with that. Like Haley said up above, time is a very strict structure for society. It schedules everything about our lives. We brought up how time isn't necessary relative. I definitely think there is a difference of Time, the sense that change has occurred over an amount of time, and time; time is the very structure lifestyle western culture created. Lowercase time is very much an illusion, as Siddartha poses. We created it to schedule our lives and to hopefully improve them. I disagree that it has necessarily improved our lives, but merely made it more structured. Then we stumbled around the concept that time and motivation could be connected. This conversation I later discussed again with Haley in the cop out table. She said how time can be a huge motivator. I definitely agree with that, and I thought it was interesting to think about time and Time as two separate things, and to understand the time that Siddartha doesn't agree with. I just think the topic of time is really interesting with the context of Siddartha. He makes time seem so irrelevant. Like when he's a merchant and I'm sure time was very important in that job, but in the end he just shrugs off that he spent 40 years of his life there. Towards the end of the novel Govinda is worried about aging but Siddartha is basically like "so what man. Just enjoy the present"
|
|
|
|
Post by madisonarmst on Oct 3, 2013 0:33:57 GMT
The best conversation I had today was with Haley, Alice, Jessica and Elizabeth at the table where we ordered the various drawings of bulls from Picasso's last to his first, in relation to Siddhartha. We all agreed on the sequence, but we could not agree on which end he started at. Haley and I thought that the most intricate bull came first, then as Siddhartha comes closer and closer to enlightenment, he becomes the skeleton drawing of a bull. He begins his journey with a deep reliance on other people and concrete objects, but as he progresses in his journey, he loses that dependence and discovers enlightenment within himself. That loss of dependence is symbolized by the final picture in the sequence, the skeleton bull. After achieving Nirvana, Siddhartha is left with only what is inside him (the skeleton), rather than relying on other people (the meat and details) to find himself.
Jessica, Elizabeth and Alice, however, thought that Siddhartha begins as the skeleton bull, and through knowledge, wisdom and enlightenment, becomes the complete bull. In their interpretation, the details and meat of the bull represent knowledge. It was interesting to hear this other perspective, because it never occurred to me that the sequence could be seen in reverse, and still apply to Siddhartha. As a table, we came to the conclusion that through Siddhartha's quest to find enlightenment, he gained some things--such as knowledge and wisdom--but lost others--such as a reliance on others and the world around him. Ironically, these two interpretations are almost identical, because in both he gains wisdom and enlightenment, but loses his dependence on others. It was fascinating to me how we came to the same conclusion, although we initially thought on opposite sides of the spectrum.
|
|
|
|
Post by sheridanf on Oct 3, 2013 0:48:25 GMT
My favorite conversation of the period dealt with Picasso's bulls. First of all, I absolutely loved the prompt- I've always admired Picasso's works, and I really enjoyed trying to figure out the order the bulls go in. After noticing that the pictures were numbered, we decided to order them according to their pages numbers to see if that could give us any direction. It seemed sort of mixed up, with the more simplistic bulls next to the more detailed ones, but we noticed that in their numbered order, they sort of mirrored Siddhartha's journey- a more simplistic bull would represent one of his awakenings, and as he lived that kind of life (as an ascetic, as a rich and indulgent man, etc.) his bull would be more detailed, until he once again awakened and started again with a less-detailed bull. We, however, remembered Siddhartha's words to never listen to other's teachings and find our own truths, so we quickly changed the order. We next tried ordering the bulls from most simplistic to most detailed and noticed that the parts of the more detailed bulls, such as the tail alongside the body instead of behind, were actually just parts from the more simplistic bulls transformed into something else- so all of the parts of the final bull could actually all be found in the first one. This sort of mirrored the way of the Self, that we can seem to change as people and add those extra details, but in reality our Self never changes but rather reveals different parts of itself. We also had time to put our bulls in a circle and toyed with the idea that there was no "first" or "last" bull- that, like Siddhartha, whose bull began somewhat-formed but not complete, all courses of our lives are different and can begin in different ways.
I mostly enjoyed this prompt because it was a good way to look at Siddhartha's life as a whole and compare it to each bull- and there were so many different interpretations of the order of the bulls that we could have talked about that prompt for much longer.
(Also, if you're curious, this link, www.artyfactory.com/art_appreciation/animals_in_art/pablo_picasso.htm, takes you to a website that explains Picasso's intended order of the bulls. It's pretty interesting, but for me it sort of ruined the magic of the prompt, since I liked the idea that there could be any number of orders to the bulls.) |
|
|
|
Post by davidqin on Oct 3, 2013 2:43:13 GMT
I loved the math prompt. I just learned about sequences today and it was both bewildering and exciting, so the prompt asking us to place the relationship of nirvana and samsara in context of a mathematical equation was priceless. I had at my table group Matt, Rachel, Sheridan, and Sam. I know for a fact that Matt is in Calculus II like me, and Sam is in Calculus I. I'm not sure what math class Sheridan and Rachel are in. Still, I posited that we could place the relationship of nirvana and samsara in context of the equation sin2x + cos2x = 1, but you get samsara2x + nirvana2x = Om. sin2x + cos2x = 1 is one of the trigonometric identities we use the most in calculus, as it describes the relationship between two legs of a right triangle. Together, the two trigonometric identities make the length of the hypotenuse. Having had time to write this, my description of the identity is a little more developed than the one I gave to Sheridan and Rachel; I stumbled over that one since we often take the identity for granted, and we use it without thinking what it actually means. Bad math aside, samsara2x + nirvana2x = Om proves that while samsara and nirvana are not necessarily polar opposites (samsara not being hell but more like the cyclical state in which we live right now, and nirvana being the ideal, transcendental state we all strive to reach), they do form a complementary pair that forms Om. Om is everything that has ever happened and will ever happen, including all the past cycles of life in samsara and the distant nirvana off in the future. Therefore, nirvana and samsara together make up Om, which is 1 because it epitomizes wholeness. So I somehow struggled my way through expressing these deep thoughts, and we moved on to other math expressions that could describe nirvana and samsara. Matt brought up the equation of the circle, x2+y2 = r2. That also made sense. Together, samsara and nirvana could form a circle where Om resides. Then we talked about how samsara and nirvana are not opposites but complement each other. Finally, we talked about some of the other equations written on the back of the sheet, such as the infamous lim x->oo of sinx/x = 1. We concluded that because limits never truly reach a value, they have the opposite meaning: an individual may never reach nirvana, but only gets very close. This was a fine discussion because it applied the rationality of math, and specifically calculus, to something as spiritual as Om and meaning in life.
|
|
|
|
Post by stever on Oct 3, 2013 3:14:46 GMT
My favorite conversation was at the table with the Emily Dickingson poem. I love Emily Dickinson's work and the idea of connecting something that seems like a tonal opposite to "Siddhartha." We initially discussed how the poem related to the often brought up idea in "Siddhartha" that experience is the best teacher. The liquor in the open bottle experiences the world even though it has to suffer the consequences of going bad earlier, whereas the liquor in the closed bottle does not get to learn from experience. We compared Siddhartha while he was trying to learn from his teachers and the Buddha to the liquor in the closed bottle, since while learning through teaching does not take much risk, it is not (as Siddhartha learned) the best way to achieve enlightenment. Learning through experience may be more difficult, but someone is much more likely to achieve enlightenment through doing so.
After this discussion, Mr. Parris came over to do a demonstration for us: he drank water out of a cup. While we agreed that the water was essential, we also agreed that the cup was essential -- without the cup, the water would fall on the floor and be difficult to drink. However, as Mr. Parris pointed out, the cup gives the water distinct shape, and this shape closes it off from the infinitely possible shapes the water could have held. We compared the cups to other things that give shape to our world, such as language or our linear notion of time. Language allows us to give meaning to the world, but it also constricts our ability to express ourselves. Siddhartha continually noted that he was unable to truly impart any wisdom to Govinda because of language. On page 146, Siddhartha said "Nirvana is not a thing; there is only the word Nirvana," emphasizing that he cannot properly communicate his experience of Nirvana because the constrictions of language. Siddhartha, as well as other enlightened fellows such as the Buddha, were unable to truly express their wisdom because of the limitations of language, which perhaps explains the commonly mentioned idea that experience is the best teacher.
|
|
|
|
Post by garygates on Oct 3, 2013 4:10:37 GMT
My very first discussion was probably my favorite of those that I had today. I began the class period with Matt, Sam, Robert and Travis, discussing the Walt Whitman quote, "What blurt is this about vice and virtue?" Since I was a larger-than-average group, the conversation was less dull than other tables. Everyone had something to say and there was a greater range of expression and viewpoints. Although the group size was quite nice, the question was really what caused my lasting appreciation for this conversation, as a question generally should. Upon viewing the question we were silent for quite some time. None of us really understood what we were supposed to answer. Once we looked up the definition of 'blurt,' however, the discussion picked up its pace. The question was less of an actual question, though formatted like one with question mark and all, but more of a prompt or an instigating phrase. I eventually came to a conclusion, through my "Siddhartha"-biased opinion, that Whitman's quote was more rhetorical. Talk of virtues and vice is nothing more than a blurt, just as Siddhartha tells us that virtues and vice are a part of everything in our cyclical world. What was Siddhartha's vice-filled journey into greed without the love that he learned? And what was the virtuous life as a Samana without the occasional Samsara and begging for food? Both parts of Siddhartha's journey, though we often claim them to be polar opposites, contained vice and virtue, good and evil.
We applied (and I applied after my parting with this group) the theme of coexistence (that of good and evil) many times over the course of my discussions. Travis made a very intriguing point, based on this recurring theme, that Enlightenment could not be achieved without Siddhartha experiencing vice, and I applied the theme to the idea of Samsara, commenting that Samsara would not exist without virtues, and by Siddhartha logic it therefore cannot be as terrible as the evil sin that is characterized as. I also later applied this coexistence theme to the wonderful mathematical equation theme that has been mentioned several times in previous posts. Although at first glance it may seem like there is an inverse relationship between Nirvana and Samsara, isn't it correct that since good and evil coexist in all of life and since no such event is purely either that the relationship between the two is closer to a linear y=x equation?
In the end, this was my favorite discussion because it was a great springboard for future discussions, but also because it was the most open-ended question that I discussed in class. Although we chose to talk about the unity and coexistence of life, we really could have gone anywhere in the novel with the ideas of vice and virtue as they are present everywhere in the pages novels. I believe that vague questions are often the best questions because the diversity of answer is much more entertaining and interesting than that of a single-minded question.
|
|
|
|
Post by jamiezimmerman on Oct 3, 2013 4:50:52 GMT
My first favorite topic was the math question. I suggested that the limit as Samsara approaches infinity of Om equals Nirvana... It made sense to me. Basically as suffering approaches its maximum in the function of life, of Om, the value of life becomes Nirvana, the enlightened state where suffering ceases. Siddhartha pushed himself to the extremes, the infinities of emotions in his life experiences. He dealt with immeasurable hunger and pain, followed by lavish foods and a plethora of sweet-smelling clothes. These opposite infinities caused him to feel great suffering, but I imagine that these experiences were critical to finding enlightenment and accepting Nirvana.
My second favorite topic was the open-ended one - the one that asked what we ought to discuss. I suggested that we talk about the complications of translated works - how not only the sentiments but plot lines are almost completely lost when a piece of literature is translated. We brought up Cyrano de Bergerac and the problems with its translation - how we felt robbed of what is likely an unbelievably beautiful play. No matter how right the translator thinks he is, it is impossible to translate exactly as the literature intends. The translator uses his own personal experiences to decide what is right and wrong, what to include and what to erase, what word to use and what phrase to rewrite, based on what he believes to be "right" - therefore eliminating any propensity for objectivity.
|
|
|
|
Post by elizabethmeyer on Oct 3, 2013 4:51:00 GMT
Thanks to you, Madison! That was also one of my favourite discussions. I accidently ended up at the bull-ordering table twice (not sure how that happened, but it turned out for the best) and I found people's interpretations of the "correct" order fascinating. The first time I was there, it was with Madison, Haley, Alice and Jessica. The previous group had left their interpretation of the "correct" order in place, so we worked from there. We all agreed on the order, but not necessarily the direction. Some of us thought it made more sense going from the most simplistic to the most realistic, while the others thought it should go the other way. I kept bouncing back and forth as the others talked about how it worked going this or that direction. In the end, I thought that Picasso's drawings probably went from the most realistic one to the most simplistic one, but that for Siddhartha it could go either way. I really liked the others' descriptions of how as Siddhartha matured he became more simplistic and got down the bare bones of what he needed/wanted in life, but also how as he got older he found out more about life and became fuller. Both made complete sense to me, and therefore I couldn't completely decide on one direction or the other. During the discussion, I believe I said that I thought it went from most realistic to most simplistic, and I still think that makes the most sense of the two. As Siddhartha travels and lives, he discovers what he believes to be important in life, and leaves/discards those things that he finds unimportant as he goes. In his later years, he becomes a simple ferryman - not rich, not abjectly poor, but happy - and he finds something akin to enlightenment. Or at least knowledge that he can be content with and stop "seeking". He's gotten down to the basics and there's no fluff or unimportant stuff left in his life, and therefore he's more similar to the simplistic bull because he has no distractions and no attachments.
The second time I ended up at the bull-ordering table, it was with Rishi and Stephanie. This time, the previous group had left the illustrations in a pile, allowing us to make of the order what we could. Having some prior knowledge of the illustrations, I tried not to get in the way of the others sorting through them. I expected that we would end up putting them in another straight line, but instead we made a sort of spiral. I find it fascinating that some of us made a straight line of the pictures, and while we read them left to right and right to left, we still agreed on the general order; while others of us find that each picture was so similar that we found it made more sense to put them in a spiral that connected all of them to each other. Just like with my first group at the table, I found that I could agree with yet another interpretation of the pictures; that Siddhartha's life was more of a cycle than a line, just like time. Every time he became content in a situation and stopped "seeking", he quickly became bored and moved on. He'd be complicated and roaming and seeking knowledge and enlightenment, and then he settle into some simple role which he would become bored with and move on, soon to become a complicated seeker once again.
I believe both discussions had equal value, and I'd be hard pressed to pick which view is my favourite.
|
|
|
|
Post by kevinle on Oct 3, 2013 5:50:37 GMT
Picasso's progression of bull drawing sparked the most thought and discussion for me.
As a table group, we initially followed the prompt literally and ordered the bulls in the way we thought Picasso would have progressed. Knowing there was some trick involved, we put the most realistic image as first and the simplest image as last. In other words, we thought Picasso began with a realistic picture of a bull and stripped it to it's simplest form. After doing some research, I learned that this was indeed how Picasso approached this piece of art. With the order established, we related it to Siddhartha's journey. He starts with little sense of self and direction, and he ends with a defined sense of self.
Trying to replicate Picasso's order seemed a bit too dry at that point, so we decided to experiment with the order. Each picture had a number in the corner, so we decided to order them numerically without any expectations. To our surprise, we could see a much stronger connection between the new arrangement and Siddhartha's journey. It began with a midway-detailed image, representing Siddhartha's initial somewhat-defined intelligent-Brahmin self. The next images simplified into the bare outlines of the bull, resembling Siddhartha's Samana days. The outline then becomes somewhat defined with all sorts of lines and figures--Siddhartha leaves the Samanas and begins to discover is own self. The bull continues to develop and becomes overly shaded and full--Siddhartha becomes rich and corrupted. The next picture is empty again with simple outlines--Siddhartha has his midlife crisis when he feels like he needs to restart. Lastly, the outlines begin to refill with the same lines and figures from earlier, only with more definition and vibrancy--Siddhartha finally reaches a strong sense of self.
We ended the conversation by noting the endless possibilities of interpretation. There are countless ways to order the bulls and make connections to the story, all of them powerful in their own manner.
|
|
|
|
Post by coreybrown on Oct 3, 2013 6:20:25 GMT
For me, the most interesting conversation I had was with Keeley, Ruby, and Abby at the table with the prompt that read something along the lines of "express your thoughts on the relationship between Nirvana and Samsara in a mathematical equation." I enjoyed our struggle not only to find some sort of combination of mathematical expressions, symbols, and gibberish to convey our thoughts, but also the fact the we struggled a lot with the idea that perhaps achieving Nirvana isn't all that. Using the limit of a function (Samsara, the journey), many of us came to the consensus that perhaps the journey is more valuable than reaching enlightenment and the fact that a function never truly reaches its limit went along well with that way of thinking. Anyways, I just thought it was a lot of fun to really ponder whether or not we personally would like to achieve enlightenment and our thoughts on what enlightenment is/means.
Though that conversation was my favorite over all, I can't ignore the "Om" table. After a month of staring at the yellow painting in the corner of the room (and not understanding how "Ow" fit in with the other Om projects, trying to find some way to turn it so it would make an Om. Upside down just made Mo, backwards read O.M...I just didn't get it), I finally saw the Om and it blew my mind. Something that i didn't understand suddenly became profound and sparked a lot of discussion at our table.
|
|
|
|
Post by moreno on Oct 3, 2013 17:07:39 GMT
The poem's I am presented with during school have almost always confused me. For instance, with the honors/AP poems that determine whether or not you get into the class, I've always spent most of my time just staring at the words wondering if my english is the same english that's on the paper. My favorite conversation by far was the one centered around the Emily Dickinson poem. Why? Drumroll please...I actually fully understand the poem as it relates to the reading! Or at least I think I do. The poem also helped me further understand the novel and some of the underlying messages it highlights.
Between the form of Life and Life
The difference is as big
As Liquor at the Lip between
And liquor in the Jug
The latter – excellent to keep –
But for extatic need
The corkless is superior –
I know for I have tried
In my table group, we concluded that "The difference is as big/ As Liquor at the Lip between/ And liquor in the jug" means that there is a big difference between letting life pass by (liquor sitting in the jug) and using life to learn, grow and experience everything it has to offer (drinking the liquor). Siddhartha could have stayed with his family and been content with that life, but instead he brought the liquor to his lips and decided to truly live. The poem goes on to say, "But for extatic need/ The corkless is superior" (6,7). Dickinson is saying that for happiness and joy, the drinking of liquor and life is superior to the "liquor in the Jug" (4). Siddhartha opens the Jug each time he leaves one place and ventures to a new location. During those times his morale seems to be higher and he appears to learn more about himself. My group talked about how a corked life can be "excellent to keep" (5), but it is not really living. We agreed that Siddhartha embodies this "Liquor-Jug" idea and that his uncorked experiences, no matter how different they are, all contribute to a more fulfilled life. Before this discussion I saw Siddhartha's journey as a cliche, but Dickinson's perspective allowed me to appreciate each of Siddhartha's experiences.
|
|
|
|
Post by hannahlewman on Oct 3, 2013 17:53:54 GMT
The Greatest (capital G) conversation I had took place at the Emily Dickinson poem. I'm particularly excited about this discussion because it changed my point of view, which is something I did not anticipate.
While discussing the differences between Life and Life, we explored the idea of a cup of water representing the two forms of life. While the water itself is what the drinker enjoys, the cup is essential for delivering the water. While people enjoy the word around them, their means of interpreting the world are just as central to their experiences. Even the most basic parts of living are equally as important as the "peaks," the memorable experiences.
Despite how valuable the cup is to experiences, it is also limiting. Water in a cup cannot be an ocean or a rainstorm because it is contained. Our experiences with the world around us are limited by our means of interpretation. Though this seemed like an issue at first, Mitra said something that changed my perspective. She said "if we keep changing the cup we drink from, it will keep changing the experience." I always thought of aesthetic tastes, interpretations of the world, and opinions as something we must work to solidify, but this comment changed my idea of opinions. I'm starting to see our opinions as something that must change so we can keep experiencing water in new ways. Hesse demonstrates this idea when he writes, "Siddhartha was transitory, all forms were transitory..."(Hesse 100). Means of interpretation must continually evolve if one wants to experience the world in new ways, and "Siddhartha" helped unlock this idea for me.
|
|
|
|
Post by Lacey Doby on Oct 3, 2013 20:30:21 GMT
My greatest conversation was at the table where we invented our own prompt. We began to talk about the entire final chapter of the book. In my mind, the best overall moment was when someone pointed out that passage when Siddartha picks up a rock and says something along the lines of "this rock is me, you, and the Buddah," (i don't have my book with me at the moment, sorry!), or it will be at some point in time. I fell in love with that idea and brought it up at every table I went to afterwards because it kind of blew my mind. All the atoms that make up that rock have been and will be split and scattered and reformed throughout time. That rock, though it is a rock now, will change into something else simply because everything that makes it up will never vanish from existance.
I also loved how this compared to the ideas of existentialism last year. We went from learning about how tiny and insignificant everything is to learning about how remarkably important everything actually is.
Every table was really great though. I feel like I understood more about this book on test day than I ever did before!
|
|
