In class on Tuesday we talked a little bit about how the novel Zeitoun functions as a critique of the media, especially the media’s portrayal of Hurricane Katrina. I was most interested in the various techniques and styles that Eggers seemed to appropriate from TV and movies to describe real life, and how he examined the liminal space between media representations and real ilfe. I got to thinking about this because it seemed to me in the initial reading that the character of Zeitoun and to a lesser degree the character of Kathy were both sort of flat sit-com type characters, Zeitoun being the stoic hardworking breadwinner husband, Kathy the sweet, accommodating, dedicated, loving, wife and mom. And it seemed as though the characters who moved away from New Orleans were prone to more human drama and depth as the story progressed. Kathy and the kids becoming inconsolable, doubting, having their judgment clouded by frustration, whereas the characters who stayed in New Orleans retained their sit-com flatness, almost as if the descent of TV cameras froze them in some kind of a zone of mediation. The most noticeable example of Eggers’ appropriation of TV techniques being the way he framed the period between Zeitoun and Kathy’s last phone call and the call Kathy got letting her know that Zeitoun was in prison. When I read that part, the fact that Eggers kept the reader in the dark alongside Kathy made me think that Eggers was simply trying to build suspense, the same sort of technique you would find in a movie or TV show, however as the contents of Kathy’s days became more banal and repetitive, it seemed to me that Eggers wasn’t merely trying to build suspense (if at all) but also to place the audience in Kathy’s shoes. It was also interesting to see in the last part of the book Zeitoun talking about how he thought he was being punished for his vanity in trying to match the achievements of his swimmer brother, because during the part of the narration there was no evidence that Zeitoun was at all motivated by vanity. Although his musings that his altruism might elevate him in the eyes of his family, when they saw him on TV, were included in the book, they appear to come after he made the decision to stay, and after he made the decision to paddle around helping people. In this way Zeitoun’s actions appear to be intrinsically motivated and in no way performative, however his later reflection shows how more “authentic” and performative motivations coexist and grow from one another.
-Jeremy Andrew

In discussing our final reading from part one of Wright’s Black Boy we touched upon the way white people would pit black people against one another for amusement, Wright’s emotional dynamism, and his relationship with women. I was particularly interested in Richard Wright’s feeling of not being able to connect to people around him. Earlier in part one whenever he described instances of feeling like he wasn’t ever able to connect with his family, it was always to do with their lack of support and kindness toward him, he reserved a special soft spot for his mother because she was the only one who ever really had his back. Which is why it was interesting to me that when he came to stay with Mrs. Moss and Bess, and was offered so much kindness and support that he seemed even less able to connect with them. Often in the book Wright attributes his reading practice to his inability to connect with other people, but that doesn’t seem to make a whole lot of sense. He ascribes literature’s ability to disconnect him from the people around him to the new depths, perspectives, and ideas that he finds in his books, that he assumes are beyond the grasp of and of no interest to the people around him, but he immediately shrinks away from anyone who asks him about his reading habit, despite the fact that he can eloquently describe his feelings and ideas about literature. Possibly Wright’s inability to feel connected to other people comes from his experiences with the white power structure, he writes “the safety of my life in the south depended on how well I concealed from all whites what I felt.” (Wright, 233).