Bloody Tears of Agony

by Calvin Patimeteeporn

 

Professor Hall:

Imagine you are playing the game Tetris. You’re playing along but you slowly begin to realize that the game is only giving you the awkward (and devastating) “Z” shaped blocks and you can never make a line. No matter how hard you try, the blocks fall down in unwanted patterns, creating tiny spaces that prevent you from your goal. Even though these “Z” blocks have the same number of blocks (4) as the other pieces you need, you are not able to win.

Now retain with this image but add bleeding tears of agony.

This, Professor Hall, is what reading Faerie Queene by Edmund Spenser is like:

bleeding

If you think this is bad, you should see me when I read Twilight.

Continuing with my Tetris metaphor, while the number of “blocks” of the “Z” shaped blocks are the same as the others, its the arrangement that throws you completely off. Spenser wrote this epic (epic in its actual definition, rather than the modern slang) in a time where spelling was just as set in stone and mature as Stephanie Meyers’s writing ability. Thus, words he used were spelled completely differently than that of today, resulting in eye-bleeding-worthy confusion. Misspellings and archaic diction both contribute to the verbal pandemonium that ensues when encountered with non-literature savvy people. Much like the scenario in the game above and with Spenser’s work, you can’t win.

 

As well as confusing words, the structure of Spenser’s writing brings grief and frustration as well. Last week in biology, I learned that only 3% of the billions of base pairs in our genome actually code for proteins. This is much like Faerie Queene where basically most of the words used are, for the lack of a better term, junk. There is a small percentage however that actually contribute to story. In Book III Cantos iii, Glauce, the nurse to warrior maiden Britomart, takes said maiden to Merlin to seek help, as Britomart has been struck and sickened by love. Merlin explains to her that she is falling for her destined husband, Arthegall. He could have done so in maybe a few stanzas. However, Spenser decides to switch the characteristics of the wizard Merlin out with that of the Twilight saga, boring and far too long.

Faerie Queene is filled with enough odd spellings to make anyone think they are as illiterate as R. Kelly, and enough unwanted material that Matthew McConnaughey would think he has competition for the next  new romantic comedy movie. So here I warn you Professor Hall, approach Faerie Queene with the caution you would use with a rabid bear. Now if you will excuse me, I feel like this eye bleeding problem has gone out of control.

The Maltese Britomart- The Faerie Queen as Film Noir

By: Dan Nockels, P.I.

I was sitting in my office at dusk, the smoke rising from my cigarette almost blocked out the stench of the city stretching out behind me. It really is a filthy town especially in the parts where I do business. That’s when she came in; she was tall for a dame. Not bad looking either. She stood there for a minute and I gave her one of those long Hollywood look-overs, you know the type they do in movies right before you know it’s a misogynist piece of shit. Red hair slightly matted so you knew she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. That’s a good quality in a city like this. She had a spattering of freckles over the bridge of her nose, looked kinda like the shoddy work of some union worker stopping off at a job between visits to the bar, looked good on her. She was pale, I guess the spooky lookin’ bucket she had in the crook of her arm explained that, looked like she hardly took it off.  “Thou art Nockels P.I.?”

“That’s what it says on the door, baby, what can I do for ya?” I leaned back in my chair swirling the glass of scotch I had been nursing since the last one. She was speaking with a British accent, kinda phoney sophisticated, too much more of this and I might grow fond of her.

“My dearest love hath become lost to me…”

“Say no more doll face, I know the story already.” Turns out I was wrong, the magic mirror thing kinda came out of nowhere. Seems like there is always some new trouble bubbling in the bowels of this city. Seems like I’m always right there in the middle of it. I took the case. As she walked out, I lit another cigarette and noted a nod of approval at a John McCain pamphlet in my mail slit, makes sense I guess, both veterans