Myrtle Wilson: the Original Black Friday Enthusiast

            After a day dedicated to giving thanks for one’s possessions, Americans believe the only logical follow-up involves trampling one another in order to nab the last marked-down Wii U on the second biggest shopping day of the year. Although my food coma consistently prevents me from experiencing the phenomenon of Black Friday, or anything involving movement, the affair never ceases to fascinate me. The dedication of hardcore shoppers who wait hours on end and put themselves in potentially life-threatening situations rivals that of Olympians, and I cannot resist reading about the ramifications of their quests.  Despite the humor these consumers provide, the repulsion for such extreme consumerism remains. However, with some attempted sympathy and after noting the similarities between Myrtle Wilson from The Great Gatsby and the Black Friday heroes, I began to understand their positions. Though both the shoppers and Myrtle appear very materialistic, their reasoning does not prove that illogical. The shoppers wait for hours and risk harm in order to save money. Myrtle cheats on her husband to achieve higher social status and have a wealthier life. Does anyone disagree with wanting wealth and social promise? The paths Myrtle and the extremist buyers take seems corrupt and excessive, their logic proves reasonable. For instance, during Tom and Myrtle’s party, the adulteress describes her extensive list of items she needs to purchase while with Tom (36). The novelist presents situational irony as Myrtle generally remains superficial, yet her decision to utilize Tom’s money, rather than her own, remains wise, but immoral. Although I do not condone Myrtle’s behavior in anyway, I recognize that the benefits and rewards of her risk prove worth it for her. Both parties, Myrtle and the deal seekers, put themselves in danger in order to achieve monetary benefits, and I have to respect their efforts. I differ in values from them, but I, too, have made extreme sacrifices for various items or circumstances I wanted acquire. I advocate that we all have a bit of Myrtle and the intense consumers within ourselves, we just need to look past our original moral judgments.

Pondering Purposes

       For an unknown reason, my dreams become something out of a Lewis Carroll novel whenever I try to conclude a stressful day with an afternoon nap. Yesterday’s dream proved no different: my mind concocted an alternate universe in which all of the AP English 12 students lived in a small cottage on a secluded island off the coast of Australia with Ms. Serensky as our housemother. I kid you not. I could not make this up if I wanted to. In this crazy world, Ms. Serensky would leave us at home alone each day to work on our short story worksheets; however, one this particular morning, we discovered a quidditch set and decided to orchestrate a tournament rather than analyze the significance of stealing thirty Big Macs. In the midst of the first match, a man, who bared a striking resemblance to the Misfit in “Black Hearts Bleed Red,” infiltrated our home and claimed the new quidditch set as his own. In this unrealistic universe, I stood up to the man and, in return, he shot me just to gain a quaffle, two bludgers and a snitch. Although, I have to admit, the snitch seemed pretty high-quality. Obviously, I woke up extremely confused and, as Ms. Serensky has taught me, began to look for a purpose or meaning in my imagination’s creation. Although I do not possess the amazing talents of Sigmund Freud, I still managed to come up with a variety of possible meanings, yet none seemed right. I found myself further empathizing with the public in “The Balloon,” we all stand searching for something that may or may not exist. A world of conceivable answers remains, but one can never know for sure. The author of the short story, Donald Barthelme, notes “all… motions… were within one's possibilities” in regards to the citizen’s reactions, highlighting the claim that the balloon can receive many different interpretations (2). Although the narrator hints of a purpose, he never reveals the true meaning behind the balloon, just as I will never know the reasoning for my in-depth death by quidditch. Furthermore, Barthelme states that the most important result of the balloon proved what people felt standing under it (3). This declaration uncovers the writer’s assertion that our personal interpretations of the world create the vital or uneventful impact of happenings. Through these ideas, “The Balloon” exemplifies the belief that all meaning proves constructed meaning, a thought that stands central to my personal ideals. We decide what matters and we instill these items or, in my case, dreams with significance. Although I can pinpoint a variety of interpretations of my strange dream as well as Barthelme’s balloon, I will never know whether these connections proved correct or incorrect. However, these constructed purposes can still have a monumental impact on my life. Perhaps the writer did not intend the balloon as a symbol of art, this connection still allows me to evaluate the role of arts and literature in my own life and grow from that thought exchange. Moreover, if I ponder the possibility that my dream means my civic duty stands as risking my health for literature, then I can use this connection to deeply evaluate my interest in writings and how important they remain to my being. Just as Barthelme depicts the limitless understandings of an event, I affirm that every occurrence has infinite purposes. As well, I advocate that the deeper analysis and questioning of the world enhances our lives, regardless of whether our conclusion proves the “right” or “wrong” answer.