When looking at the photographs of real human beings being tortured - gagged and laid naked on top of one another - it is hard for me to keep my eyes on the picture. The inexplicable treatment of these other people is too much to see. Especially coming from American soldiers, who we pray for every day for a safe return home. It is so gruesome that I need to look away. It literally appalls me. However, I feel like with the cartoons, I wasn't compelled to avert my eyes so quickly. I guess because I know that the images are not "real" people, I am able to look at them more closely. I can study the positions, the expressions, the shame - but be able to distance myself from it ever-so-slightly.

The cartoonish men depicted in the images are soft and full figured. Besides the variations in skin tone, their features are very similar. Perhaps this is symbolic of how the American soldiers viewed these men. I read that some of the prisoners weren't even terrorists or threats, they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But to the soldiers that detained these men, their religion and skin color made them "the enemy".

In these pictures, the color is used strikingly well. The blood jumps out in every picture, vibrant and saturated. Especially in the second image, where the only color in the picture are the blood stains in the adjacent cell, a lot of emphasis is put on the blood using color. The cloths covering the prisoners faces, as well as the lingerie featured in many photos, are all very bright colors as well. Botero probably wanted to draw attention to these items and the amount of shame they gave to their wearers. The expressions on the faces of the prisoners was also striking. The mouths are often open, as if they are howling in pain or despair. When their mouths are shut, they look like they are going to be sick, or they are going to break down and cry at any moment. Again, because this is an illustration and not a photograph, I am able to analyze the faces of the individuals without feeling immediately repulsed. It allows me to look deeper into the image and not feel nauseated or scarred. The illustrations, although moving and truthful, do not have the same shock factor that a real life photograph of prisoners would have. Botero's pictures allow me to take in the atrocity of the situation without feeling like I am going to be sick.

While I look at these pictures, I can't help but have a swirl of emotions: anger, sadness, empathy, and mostly disbelief. I just can't even wrap my mind around it. I always knew that there was torture involved with war, but I had always kept it at an arms length. When I heard that word, I always connoted it with the "enemy", the "bad guy". I guess I have been trained to pray for the soldiers and admire the soldiers and be thankful for the soldiers, so that this image has become one of an infallible savior in the desert sporting camouflage and a machine gun (which is kind of ironic now that I'm actually thinking about it).

On one hand, I am so angry that these sorts of things are happening by American soldiers - the ones we are all praying for! But on the other hand, there is always that voice in the back of my head reminding me of the hardships of war. I could never even begin to imagine living through anything like that. Being shipped to this remote region of the world where people are literally trying to kill you. Actually, I can't even imagine basic training, or boot camp for that matter. The whole idea is just beyond the grips of my imagination (I mean..really, I'm afraid of the dark). So who's to say what I would do if I were under those pressures? How would I be able to handle it? Would I go crazy? Would I torture? It is easy for me, at this moment, to say that I never would ever do anything like that. But really. Maybe these people just went crazy. Maybe they cracked. Or maybe they are just psychotic individuals with twisted minds. Who can really say?

Falling Man randomness

So I guess this is where I just throw out some thoughts for my devoted readers to fawn over.

I honestly can't tell if I like this story or not. I feel like it's a plateau. One huge, expansive plateau. And granted, I still have a third of the book to go - maybe that's where all the action is. But so far, I feel like it's all been on one level. I feel like I'm still being introduced to new characters, new situations, and I'm just anxiously waiting for them to do something provocative or dramatic. It doesn't seem to be working out that way. They just continue on with thier lives and nothing really exciting happens.

But I guess that's the point. Because that's what the characters are doing right? Just trying to continue on with thier lives? Trying to push through the emotional aftermath and get back to "normalcy"?

I don't know. I guess because it was a novel about 9/11, I thought Falling Man would be dramatic event followed by dramatic event followed by dramatic event. But the plot seems...mundane. Boring. Plain. I still feel like I'm reading the introduction before the rising action, but there isn't that much left of the book. It's like when you're reading Harry Potter. You know the first hundred pages or so are all just introductory info, and that there is so much drama and excitement the last hundred pages that it's totally going to be worth it to have all of the background you plowed through at the start of the book. I have a feeling that isn't going to be happening with this novel. I feel that it is going to end the way it started - slowly.

However, although I call it slow, I can't help but continue to read it. And it is going pretty quickly. Before I know it, I am 50 pages further than when I sat down. I feel compelled to go onto the next chapter. But why? I think the subconcious force behind the interest in the plot is that I am still clinging to a hope for some dramzz. That maybe in this last portion, all the stops will be pulled out and I'll be blown away.

And I'm still waiting to find out the relevance of the Islamic men to the lives of Keith and Lianne. Are they ever going to interact? Will thier stories come together somehow? Why do the men only get 1/5 of the page space that the other characters do? Why are they even included in the first place?



I guess I'll find out. Or at least I hope I do.

To put it very bluntly: September 11th is a very touchy subject. Well, obviously. It is a tragedy that many Americans are still trying to cope with today. But why is a memorial for the victims such a dramatic ordeal? Why is it so much more difficult to address what happened in 2001 compared to what happened with Hurricane Katrina?

There are an innumerable amount of answers to these questions that I can only begin to answer. First of all, there are so many factors to 9/11. I know when I think of the tragic events that occurred that day, I immediately picture the Twin Towers collapsing to the ground. I think about the images of New York City: business people running for their lives, firemen running into the smoke and flames, the explosion of the planes as they connected with the towers.

However, I never really think about the Pentagon. Or the plane that crashed in central Pennsylvania. But I know that those individuals who lost their lives are just as much a victim of the attacks as anyone in NYC.

So when constructing a memorial, the question always is: Who do we commemorate? Like the dilemma in Connecticut, organizers have to consider who gets their name on the plaque. Who are people reminded of when they sit on this bench or look at this slab of slate? Is it individuals from that town? That county? State? Region? Are victims from PA and Washington included? What about just the people on the hijacked planes? Or the people working in the World Trade Center that morning? The list is endless.

Because the truth is, we all are aware that every single person that lost their life deserves to be memorialized. They had their life taken away from them. Not because of a natural disaster dealt by the hands of a higher being (ie: Katrina), but by other human beings who decided that they were not worthy of life, simply because of what they believed. So every family member, every friend and co-worker, believes that their loved one is worthy of recognition. That they should not be forgotten - or in this case, omitted from a memorial dedicated to the victims of 9/11.

So even when the commemorators figure out who should be included, they then have to determine what the actual memorial should be. What is appropriate? Tasteful, yet appealing to visitors? What can everyone - victims' families and constructors - agree on? How do we take an event so overwhelming and so inexplicable and horrendous, and try to make sense of it out of granite and wood?

The answer? We can't. I cannot even begin to fathom how we could make everyone happy. As humans, we have this drive to make sense of everything. Tie it all up in a neat little bow and somehow trick ourselves into believing that what happened made sense. That it was "meant to happen". Well, that may work for when your cat dies. But when it comes to a massive attack on your country and human freedoms in general, it is a more difficult package to tie. By making a memorial, we try to take an inexplicable event with such abstract and alienating feelings and try to make something tangible out of it. Which obviously, is quite impossible.

So many different views and opinions on one day of events creates insurmountable tension and disagreements. While everyone wants to do something, no one really knows what to do. And really, what can we do? What is there to be done? To answer this question, I immediately think, "Learn more about the events to obtain a fuller understanding of what occurred on Sept. 11, as well as respect the victims' families, who are still trying to make sense of why their loved one was killed."

But isn't that an oxymoron? I mean, just look at the article about the falling man. One family saw it as cowardice for that man to throw himself from the building. Another family saw it as the man taking the last moments of his life into his own hands. Both families lost a loved one in the attacks, but they had completely opposite views on this mans suicide.

Also, by simply showing photographs and reporting on what happened that day, newspapers and news stations were attacked by victims' families. They claimed that out of the respect for the victims, their deaths should not be exploited on a national scale. (And I would like to say to my thousands of followers out there that I understand this, although my understanding is very limited due to the fact that I cannot relate to their loss whatsoever.) However, how is the rest of the nation - no, the world - supposed to try to understand what happened on September 11th, a day of death and tragedy, without actually seeing the death and the tragedy?

I still internally struggle with this moral and ethical concept, and I am only one person. How are we supposed to get entire communities or the whole nation to agree on how to handle the reporting and memorializing of this event if I can't even make sense of it myself?

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

In Chris Rose's collection of columns, he has two contrasting themes that reoccur throughout his work. A lot of the time, he focuses on the despair and brokenness of the city after Katrina. The magnitude of disaster is a central point to many of the columns. However, Rose also makes it a point to continuously discuss the diversity and traditions of New Orleans, and the strength and resilience of it's people as they face life post-Katrina. He often addresses how the city plans to rebuild, and how Mardi Gras must go on a few short months after the city is reduced to rubble.

Ellen Montgomery, the woman profiled in "The Cat Lady" on page 110, is the epitome of the "silver lining" of the city. This slightly offbeat and self proclaimed cat-lady hid out in her New Orleans home after the hurricane, not even realizing that a natural disaster was coming her way until merely hours before. For thirty days, she affectionately cared for her "babies", her thirty four cats. Ellen would read, spend hours drinking a cup of coffee and painting anything she could get her hands on. She said that "At first, actually, it was kind of nice around here. The birds came back, and the squirrels would come deliver me the news. It's all been so peaceful, really." This older woman, who had already been isolated for some time (well, besides the exquisite company of her feline friends), completely embodies the attitude of rebirth and moving forward. Although she is quite an eccentric example, Ellen Montgomery had weathered the storm - physically and emotionally - and was making the most of it. Life must go on in New Orleans, and Ellen understands this in the most simplistic of ways.

However, after such a devastating tragedy, it is natural - almost expected, even - for humans to feel overwhelmed with the loss. Such is the case of the unnamed fiance of Rose's neighbor who committed suicide in "Despair" on page 61. This young couple had everything going for them: friends, family, and an engagement that was soon to become a marriage. However, once he left his family in Atlanta to live with her in her homeland of New Orleans, the relationship began to suffer. One night, the couple was drinking some wine and decided to kill themselves. They were overwhelmed by the despair and immense sense of failure that occurred during and after Katrina hit. Although the young woman did not follow through with the plan, her fiance did. And although the storm did not literally take his life on August 29th, the aftermath of Katrina was enough to kill him. He drowned in the negativity and the loss, and never really found his footing. The sad thing is, he wasn't even there for the storm. What about all of those people who witnessed the immediate aftermath? Who stayed in their homes as the waters rose? That is some psychological damage I can't even begin to fathom.

So while Ellen Montgomery sits contently in her home with her plethora of cats and paints away the afternoon, the neighbor's fiance kills himself after falling apart into sadness of it all. One represents the brightness of the future and the path to restoration. The other is a sad example of one of many victims' plight to emotionally recover from inexplicable sights and experiences. The eccentricity of New Orleans and the optimism for rebirth is embodied in the cat lady, but the utter devastation and failure is shown in the ladder.