<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129167282567604093</id><updated>2011-08-01T13:47:06.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We Deal In Dreams</title><subtitle type='html'>a (sub)conscious exploration of dreams as a motif in literature</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9129167282567604093/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lucy Fox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14114338882032873189</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OQOR59IYlug/ShKnA15fSFI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wILcSPwE69c/S220/dfgdfg.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129167282567604093.post-981628132381286079</id><published>2009-06-03T08:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T08:24:12.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OQOR59IYlug/ShweYRZAcsI/AAAAAAAAACE/iP-4YiWDDBw/s1600-h/romeo_with_mercutio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 148px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OQOR59IYlug/ShweYRZAcsI/AAAAAAAAACE/iP-4YiWDDBw/s200/romeo_with_mercutio.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340176660488549058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romeo &amp;amp; Juliet; act I, scene iv&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:9;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:9;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;ROMEO   I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;dream'd a dream to-night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MERCUTIO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;And so did I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ROMEO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;                &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;Well, what was yours?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MERCUTIO   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;          &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;That dreamers often lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ROMEO   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;                &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9129167282567604093-981628132381286079?l=lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/981628132381286079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/2009/06/romeo-juliet-act-i-scene-iv-romeo-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9129167282567604093/posts/default/981628132381286079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9129167282567604093/posts/default/981628132381286079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/2009/06/romeo-juliet-act-i-scene-iv-romeo-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Lucy Fox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14114338882032873189</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OQOR59IYlug/ShKnA15fSFI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wILcSPwE69c/S220/dfgdfg.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_OQOR59IYlug/ShweYRZAcsI/AAAAAAAAACE/iP-4YiWDDBw/s72-c/romeo_with_mercutio.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129167282567604093.post-6829626153340064178</id><published>2009-06-03T08:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T08:23:21.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" &gt;We all dream. Some of us remember our dreams, and others don't. What significance do dreams have? Do they matter? Do the images we see, the emotions we experience in our dreams count as anything more than a subconscious memory in our waking lives? What is it to dream?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definitions of dream on the Web:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;li&gt; a series of mental images and emotions occurring during sleep; "I had a dream about you last night" &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; imaginative thoughts indulged in while awake; "he lives in a dream that has nothing to do with reality" &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; ambition: a cherished desire; "his ambition is to own his own business" &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; pipe dream: a fantastic but vain hope (from fantasies induced by the opium pipe); "I have this pipe dream about being emperor of the universe" &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; have a daydream; indulge in a fantasy &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; a state of mind characterized by abstraction and release from reality; "he went about his work as if in a dream" &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; experience while sleeping; "She claims to never dream"; "He dreamt a strange scene" &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt; someone or something wonderful; "this dessert is a dream"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;"&gt;Although there are 8 definitions listed above, this blog is going to focus on mostly the first:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;center&gt;"a series of mental images and emotions occurring during sleep"&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;"&gt;In the works of literature that this blog will discuss, authrists-author/artists- incorporate dreams and dreaming as a motif. However, each authrist uses the motif a bit differently. Carl Jung, who worked with Freud, believed that the dream's bizarre quality is an efficient language, comparable to poetry and uniquely capable of revealing the underlying meaning.  It seems that many authrists agree with Jung, whether or not they are aware of it, and are creating countless works of art and literature that embrace the poetic truth of waking life.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-family: georgia;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9129167282567604093-6829626153340064178?l=lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/6829626153340064178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/2009/06/we-all-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9129167282567604093/posts/default/6829626153340064178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9129167282567604093/posts/default/6829626153340064178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/2009/06/we-all-dream.html' title=''/><author><name>Lucy Fox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14114338882032873189</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OQOR59IYlug/ShKnA15fSFI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wILcSPwE69c/S220/dfgdfg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129167282567604093.post-8060506247087061778</id><published>2009-06-03T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T08:20:19.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreams in The Wizard of Oz (The Motion Picture)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I'm cheating a bit here: The Wizard of Oz was a book initially, but let's be serious: Judy Garland made that film. In The Wizard of Oz, Dorothy is caught in a tornado in her midwest home. She can't make it to the storm cellar and hides under her bed with Toto, her Cairn Terrier. She must have hit her head and gotten knocked out, or perhaps just fallen asleep due to sheer boredom (tornadoes are not a rare occurance; she was used to the drill). Anyhow, she dreams a magnificent dream of witches, both good and evil, munchkins, flying monkeys, and magical shoes. In the land of the munchkins, Dorothy meets Glenda the Good Witch who tells her to "follow the yellow brick road" that will lead her to the wizard who will help her return home to Kansas.  Along the way she meets a scarecrow who is lacking a brain, a tin man who is lacking a heart, and a lion who is nothing but a scaredy cat. They are being tracked by the Wicked Witch of the West who is out to get them for killing her sister, the Wicked Witch of the East. In the end, Dorothy merely taps her heels together three times, and says, “There’s no place like home” with each tap, and is miraculously back in her humble Kansas home.  Although she’s convinced everything in Oz was real and that it actually happened, her Aunt Em assures her it was merely a dream.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;What are L. Frank Baum, the author of the novel, and Victor Fleming, the film’s main director, trying to say about dreams? I think that they’ve made a bold assertion that dreams are irrelevant, not related, and insignificant. Munchkins? Witches reigning from different directions on a compass rose? Flying monkeys? I suppose the dream shows Dorothy that there really is "no place like home", but other than that, the dream is lacking in relevance to Dorothy’s waking life. In many other works of literature, like &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Wide Sargasso Sea, Romeo &amp;amp; Juliet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;, and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Hamlet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;, dreams have a different relationship with consciousness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9129167282567604093-8060506247087061778?l=lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/8060506247087061778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/2009/06/dreams-in-wizard-of-oz-motion-picture.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9129167282567604093/posts/default/8060506247087061778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9129167282567604093/posts/default/8060506247087061778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/2009/06/dreams-in-wizard-of-oz-motion-picture.html' title='Dreams in The Wizard of Oz (The Motion Picture)'/><author><name>Lucy Fox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14114338882032873189</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OQOR59IYlug/ShKnA15fSFI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wILcSPwE69c/S220/dfgdfg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129167282567604093.post-4039403477123781333</id><published>2009-06-02T15:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T15:06:39.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Franz Ferdinand "LUCID DREAMS"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;im going to give my aimless love, my angry heart, my desire.&lt;br /&gt;i woke with wings from lucid dreams, i knew the reason that i felt hollow&lt;br /&gt;was that i may never know, if there is some great truth or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is no, ill dream a nation of you. a new utopia for you to live in.&lt;br /&gt;ill dream a nation of me, a new ambrosia that we could live in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lucid dreams, uh huh yeah.&lt;br /&gt;im living in lucid dreams, uh huh yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the sweep slides on my stereo&lt;br /&gt;short wave ride my rodeo&lt;br /&gt;beat came from addis abylon&lt;br /&gt;but im flying to istanbul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh so why dont you come alive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ill dream a nation of you.&lt;br /&gt;a new utopia for you to live in&lt;br /&gt;ill dream a nation of me&lt;br /&gt;another narnia where we can live it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lucid dreams, uh huh yeah&lt;br /&gt;im living in lucid dreams, uh huh yeah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lucid dreams&lt;br /&gt;im living on lucid dreams&lt;br /&gt;im living on shortwave dreams tonight&lt;br /&gt;aaah!&lt;br /&gt;lucid dream&lt;br /&gt;im living in lucid dreams&lt;br /&gt;im living in shortwave dreams tonight&lt;br /&gt;aaaah!&lt;br /&gt;lucid dreams&lt;br /&gt;im living in lucid dreams tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div  style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:85%;" &gt;uh huh yeah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9129167282567604093-4039403477123781333?l=lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/4039403477123781333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/2009/06/franz-ferdinand-lucid-dreams.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9129167282567604093/posts/default/4039403477123781333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9129167282567604093/posts/default/4039403477123781333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/2009/06/franz-ferdinand-lucid-dreams.html' title='&lt;center&gt;Franz Ferdinand &quot;LUCID DREAMS&quot;&lt;/center&gt;'/><author><name>Lucy Fox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14114338882032873189</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OQOR59IYlug/ShKnA15fSFI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wILcSPwE69c/S220/dfgdfg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129167282567604093.post-5346896465356916589</id><published>2009-06-02T14:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T14:59:39.691-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dreams in Wide Sargasso Sea&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Dreams are frequently used as a motif in literature.  Why?  In Jean Rhys’ Wide Sargasso Sea, dreams are so intricately intertwined with reality that the reader often has a hard time discerning which is which.  Jean Rhys uses dreams to manifest Antoinette’s emotions she is unable to express in waking life.  Antoinette, the main character, has three significant dreams.  Her first dream occurs when Antoinette is merely a child.  One day while swimming, Tia, her dark skinned childhood playmate, cheats her out of three pennies, steals her dress, and calls her “a white nigger”.  And a “black nigger better than a white nigger” (22).  She comes home in Tia’s dress with no money and sleeps. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;center&gt; “I dreamed that I was walking in the forest. Not alone. Someone who hated me was with me, out of sight.  I could hear heavy footsteps coming closer and though I struggled and screamed I could not move.  I woke crying.”&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Antoinette's first dream is clearly related to the characterization of Antoinette as well as the plot of the novel.  Antoinette is walking in the forest, so it's probably dark, suggesting fear.  She feels someone else's presence and is aware that they do not like her.  Antoinette struggles throughout the novel with people who mistreat her.  The fact that they’re out of sight in her dream suggests that perhaps Antoinette is never really sure who it is that “hates” her.  This becomes apparent later in her life when she is married to Rochester and there is a palpable tension between the couple, and even a suggestion of hatred for Antoinette coming from Rochester.   The heavy footsteps approaching and Antoinette’s inability to do anything about it represents her outward reaction to her environment: even when she is scared and unhappy, Antoinette rarely acts according to her emotions.  Instead of running away in her dream, all she can do is scream and struggle.  Although it’s an outward expression in her dream, it represents the inability to express these feelings.  As a result, Antoinette seems to have a passive demeanor when in fact she merely cannot express her feelings.  In her waking life, Antoinette cannot explain to her mother or her nurse where her dress is; she cannot explain what happened with Tia.  Later in her waking life, Antoinette cannot express to her husband that she wants to stay on the islands and that England will kill her.  Antoinette’s first dream characterizes Antoinette’s major flaw: an inability to express her feelings.  The first dream also introduces the idea that Antoinette struggles with her relationships with others, and is aware that they often dislike her.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Antoinette’s second dream:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;center&gt;“Again I have left the house at Coulibri. It is still night and I am walking towards the forest. I am wearing a long dress and thin slippers, so I walk with difficulty, following the man who is with me and holding up the skirt of my dress. It is white and beautiful and I don't wish to get it soiled. I follow him, sick with fear but I make no effort to save myself; if anyone were to try to save me, I would refuse. This must happen. Now we have reached the forest. We are under the tall dark trees and there is no wind. "Here?" He turns and looks at me, his face black with hatred, and when I see this I begin to cry. He smiles slyly. "Not here, not yet," he says, and I follow him, weeping. Now I do not try to hold up my dress, it trails in the dirt, my beautiful dress. We are no longer in the forest but in an enclosed garden surrounded by a stone wall and the trees are different trees. I do not know them. There are steps leading upwards. It is too dark to see the wall or the steps, but I know they are there and I think, "It will be when I go up these steps. At the top." I stumble over my dress and cannot get up. I touch a tree and my arms hold on to it. 'Here, here.' But I think I will not go any further. The tree sways and jerks as if it is trying to throw me off. Still I cling and the seconds pass and each one is a thousand years. "Here, in here," a strange voice said, and the tree stopped swaying and jerking.” [59-60]&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;    Antoinette’s second dream comes almost immediately after her stepfather has told her he will begin to arrange for suitors to see her.  Inevitably, the dream has a lot to do with sex and purity and the struggle between the two, which will continue to be a theme throughout the novel.  Antoinette is wearing a beautiful white dress that she doesn’t want to “soil”, a metaphor for Antoinette herself.  She “follow[s] him (the man who is holding up the skirt of her dress), sick with fear but [makes]no effort to save [herself]; if anyone were to try to save [her, she] would refuse.”  Here Antoinette is again unable to express her feelings, in a way almost identical to her first dream.  She is scared and cannot, will not, do anything about it.  However, now Antoinette says “this must happen.”  Now Antoinette is no longer completely naïve, but submissive, further characterizing Antoinette.  The man turns and looks at Antoinette “his face black with hatred”, bringing up again the hatred Antoinette feels from others.  The dream could also be interpreted as strictly foreshadowing:  the pure dress is a wedding dress, the man is Rochester, Antoinette’s reluctance to follow the man is the reluctance to marry Rochester, the submission to fate “this must happen” is marrying Rochester, the command of the man “Here, here” is Rochester’s command over Antoinette, the change from forest to enclosed garden is the future change from the uncontrollable Caribbean to stifling England.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;By Antoinette’s third dream, she has lost the barrier between dreams and reality.  She is living in the locked attic of Rochester’s mansion, and is considered crazy.  Memory of Coulibri melts into Antoinette’s dreams, and she cannot distinguish between the two.  The narration at this point in the novel is by Antoinette herself, and therefore it is unclear what actually happens, and what is dreamt.  However, it is inferred that the dream will tell Antoinette what she must do.  Before falling asleep, she looks at her red dress lying on the floor: “it was beautiful and it reminded me of what I must do.”  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Antoinette’s third dream:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Letting herself out of the attic, Antoinette floats through the house.  She senses someone following her (like in her first dream).  She describes Thornfield and Coulibri without transition: She sees herself in Aunt Cora’s room at Coulibri, then sees a set of candles from Thornfield.  It is unclear to the reader what is dream, and what is memory. "I saw the sunlight coming through the window, the tree outside and the shadows of the leaves on the floor, but I saw the wax candles too and I hated them" (188).  Antoinette then sets fire to a set of curtains and a tablecloth in her dream.  She calls for her childhood nurse to save her, and believes to be protected by the wall of flames that Christophine must have provided.  Antoinette runs to the tower of Thornfield and sees her memories and dreams:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;center&gt;“I saw the grandfather clock and Aunt Cora's patchwork, all colours, I saw the orchids and the stephanotis and the jasmine and the tree of life in flames. I saw the chandelier and the red carpet downstairs and the bamboos and the tree ferns, the gold ferns and the silver, and the soft green velvet of the moss on the garden wall. I saw my doll's house and the books and the picture of the Miller's Daughter. I heard the parrot call as he did when he saw a stranger, Qui est la? Qui est la? and the man who hated me was calling too, Bertha! Bertha! The wind caught my hair and it streamed out like wings. It might bear me up, I thought, if I jumped to those hard stones. But when I looked over the edge I saw the pool at Coulibri. Tia was there. She beckoned to me and when I hesitated, she laughed. I heard her say, You frightened? And I heard the man's voice, Bertha! Bertha! All this I saw and heard in a fraction of a second. And the sky so red. Someone screamed and I thought Why did I scream? I called "Tia!" and jumped and woke. [189-190]”&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Antoinette’s final dream represents all the emotions she could never express: her love for Aunt Cora, the love and fear of the untamable life of Coulibri, the disappointment and anger at the man who suffocated her, the desire to be a bird and fly free from the hard stones of Thornfield.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Rhys uses dreams frequently in WSS to express what Antoinette cannot.  Antoinette is a submissive character who cannot express her emotions.  The reader learns this most clearly from her dreams.  The author also uses dreams as a sneak preview for the future events of the novel.  Rhys uses dreams as tools to characterize Antoinette and to foreshadow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dreams in Shakespeare’s Romeo &amp;amp; Juliet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;In Act 1 Scene 4 of Shakespeare’s famous tragedy Romeo &amp;amp; Juliet, Mercutio is trying to encourage Romeo to go out to a party.  Romeo is hung up on a girl, and is downtrodden and morose.  After much unheeded encouragement, Romeo states that he has had a dream about the evening, and that it does not bode well for him.  Mercutio, intrigued, delivers his famous Queen Mab monologue.  He speaks of Queen Mab, a fairy, riding in a walnut shell, bringing people their dreams as they slumber: lovers dream of love, lawyers “dream on fees”, soldiers dream of cutting foreign throats.  What begins as a fairy tale becomes a tale of an “angry Mab” who “bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs, which once untangled, much misfortune bodes.”  Mercutio speaks of Queen Mab and her dreams as if in a trance.  Shakespeare is suggesting that dreams are related to the dreamer, that they reveal their desires.  However, the desires are not always pleasant, and by the end of the speech, the dreams and Queen Mab’s intentions are almost perverse.  Queen Mab no longer brings that which is pleasurable, but instead she is “the hag, when maids lie on their backs, That presses them and learns them first to bear, Making them women of good carriage.”  Romeo interjects, trying to break Mercutio from his trance: “Thou talk’st of nothing.”  Mercutio, as if he were not just hypnotized by some greater power, agrees:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;tab&gt;MERCUTIO &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;True, I talk of dreams, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Which are the children of an idle brain, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Which is as thin of substance as the air &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Even now the frozen bosom of the north, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. &lt;/tab&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The passage does not make it clear whether or not Shakespeare believes dreams to have any truth.  Prior to the Mab speech, Romeo says that dreamers “lie in bed asleep, while they do dream things true.”  Next, Mercutio delivers his speech, initially saying that dreams are the inner desires of the dreamer, then suggests that they are the perverse desires that are often held in, then agrees with Romeo when he says he is talking of nothing; dreams are the “children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy.”  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Dreams in Hamlet; Act 3, Scene 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-JD6gOrARk4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-JD6gOrARk4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;In Hamlet’s monologue from Act 3 Scene 1, he contemplates death, suicide in particular.  Shakespeare chooses to have Hamlet compare death to sleep, and in doing so, brings up the matter of dreams.  Now Shakespeare has already discussed dreams in Romeo and Juliet, and seems to have come to the conclusion that dreams hold desires; also, Shakespeare decides they are meaningless.  In Hamlet, dreams have a similar perversion and darkness as they do in the end of Mercutio’s monologue.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;center&gt;…To die, to sleep;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;For in that sleep of death what dreams may come&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Must give us pause&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Hamlet is looking at death as an escape from life’s “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.”However, death is like sleep, therefore there will be dreams.  And what if these dreams are worse than the fate Hamlet is trying to escape?  “With this regard…currents turn awry, and lose the name of action.”  Hamlet’s monologue suggests that Shakespeare believes dreams are not pleasant.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Weaving it All Together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Shakespeare and Jean Rhys have conflicting opinions about the significance of dreams, both which can be discerned by the way each author uses them in their respective works: Rhys believes dreams are insightful and can characterize as well as foreshadow; Shakespeare believes they are almost irrelevant, but nearly always dark and perverse.  Nevertheless, each author uses dreams to create juxtapose certain ideas: Rhys uses dreams to contrast lightness and darkness, purity and innocence with sin and impurity; Shakespeare uses dreams to contrast life and death, purity and impurity.  Although neither authrist has the same opinion about the significance of dreams, there is a general consensus that dreams are important tools in literature.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9129167282567604093-5346896465356916589?l=lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/5346896465356916589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/2009/06/dreams-in-wide-sargasso-sea-dreams-are.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9129167282567604093/posts/default/5346896465356916589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9129167282567604093/posts/default/5346896465356916589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/2009/06/dreams-in-wide-sargasso-sea-dreams-are.html' title=''/><author><name>Lucy Fox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14114338882032873189</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OQOR59IYlug/ShKnA15fSFI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wILcSPwE69c/S220/dfgdfg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129167282567604093.post-8449376412100304400</id><published>2009-06-01T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T08:25:11.384-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span id="movie_synopsis_all" style="display: inline;font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/PRwLjXFBQj4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/PRwLjXFBQj4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;center style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;For his first non-documentary film after 2004's ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND, French writer/director Michel Gondry applies his highly inventive cinematic vision to THE SCIENCE OF SLEEP. Largely set in the very active subconscious mind of Stephane (Gael Garcia Bernal), the movie bounces back and forth between his vivid dreams and mundane real life, which involves living in a Parisian apartment owned by his mother (Miou-Miou) and working at an office with a strange crew of characters, including the crass Guy (Alain Chabat). When Stephane meets Stephanie, a shy neighbor from next door (played by Charlotte Gainsbourg, the daughter of Gallic crooner Serge Gainsbourg and British singer/actress Jane Birkin), the two form an unusual friendship, one that may or may not lead to romance. Even more than ETERNAL SUNSHINE, THE SCIENCE OF SLEEP is marked by Gondry's whimsical-yet-melancholy aesthetic (honed working on videos by Bjork, the White Stripes, and others), which makes heavy use of stop-motion animation and other playful visual tricks. While the former film was rooted in its American setting (Long Island, NY), SLEEP is a thoroughly European affair steeped in its French setting, with the eccentric Stephane (a transplant from Mexico) alternating between speaking (and even dreaming) in English, French, and Spanish. Although its occasionally over-the-top quirkiness may baffle some viewers, SLEEP's unpredictable and engagingly odd sense of storytelling is sure to intrigue fans of other indie classics such as AMELIE and PUNCH-DRUNK LOVE.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;from rottontomatoes.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9129167282567604093-8449376412100304400?l=lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/8449376412100304400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/2009/06/for-his-first-non-documentary-film.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9129167282567604093/posts/default/8449376412100304400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9129167282567604093/posts/default/8449376412100304400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/2009/06/for-his-first-non-documentary-film.html' title=''/><author><name>Lucy Fox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14114338882032873189</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OQOR59IYlug/ShKnA15fSFI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wILcSPwE69c/S220/dfgdfg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129167282567604093.post-8710631133594368268</id><published>2009-06-01T08:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T14:23:17.683-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Isn't Really Happening: A "Real" Dream Collage</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I pull up outside your house and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;extend my leg as far as it goes to push the brake because&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;it’s hard to reach it from the passenger seat then you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;come outside and you’re 3 feet nothing and your clothes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;are too big and you look up at me and I’m your big sister’s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;friend but we’re going on a date? how old are you, I’m thinkin’, you must have gotten younger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;since we first met.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You hop in the driver’s seat and I put it in drive, flick the blinker on&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;press on the gas and we’re off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Up up up we go flying past birds and trees and buildings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;look there’s my school and outside there’s all the kids who go there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and look there’s my college right next door&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can walk between the two&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and now my teeth hurt a little.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I feel something in my mouth spit it out crap it’s my left incisor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Turn on the radio and talking is on I rest my head on my shoulder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;the little boy can drive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Jerk awake and I’m in English, but it’s not James, it’s Michael.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Jay is sitting next to me and is talking about some club and the cupcakes and brownies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and rape and world hunger and maybe they’re going to sell pizza next time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;because the caf’s pizza sucks what’re you doing this weekend?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I wasn’t paying attention, Ayoh was trying to pass me something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Teacher says, “Anyone want a shot?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Hannah’s laughing and I’m not sure why but&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;my desk is uncomfortable I’m antsy and I can’t relax and Ali didn’t pass it&lt;/span&gt; so&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;“I’ll take two.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because now we're in your house, the 3 of us now i'm alone with Her&lt;br /&gt;and i'm loooking for something and She knows exactly where it is,&lt;br /&gt;She&lt;br /&gt;knows you better than&lt;br /&gt;i&lt;br /&gt;ever will&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i spit out a handful of teeth&lt;br /&gt;now they're spilling out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope there's a dentist in dreamland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9129167282567604093-8710631133594368268?l=lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/8710631133594368268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/2009/06/this-isnt-really-happening-real-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9129167282567604093/posts/default/8710631133594368268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9129167282567604093/posts/default/8710631133594368268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/2009/06/this-isnt-really-happening-real-dream.html' title='This Isn&apos;t Really Happening: A &quot;Real&quot; Dream Collage'/><author><name>Lucy Fox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14114338882032873189</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OQOR59IYlug/ShKnA15fSFI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wILcSPwE69c/S220/dfgdfg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9129167282567604093.post-1016743086140239554</id><published>2009-06-01T06:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T06:53:52.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:85%;" &gt;DIVE INTO THE INFINITE ABYSS THAT IS YOUR DREAMLAND&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9129167282567604093-1016743086140239554?l=lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/1016743086140239554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/2009/06/dive-into-infinite-abyss-that-is-your.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9129167282567604093/posts/default/1016743086140239554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9129167282567604093/posts/default/1016743086140239554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lucinalovesapenglish.blogspot.com/2009/06/dive-into-infinite-abyss-that-is-your.html' title=''/><author><name>Lucy Fox</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14114338882032873189</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='26' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OQOR59IYlug/ShKnA15fSFI/AAAAAAAAAA8/wILcSPwE69c/S220/dfgdfg.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
