tomahawk's blog

When analyzing the architecture of Eastern State Penitentiary, I must distinguish the layout of the cells from that of the prison; the cells were designed with penitence in mind whereas the prison was designed to effectively monitor and control the lives of the prisoners. In each cell, there is a long skinny window. This window encouraged the prisoner to look toward the heavens and contemplate his relationship with God. The architecture of the cell further highlights this window. With an arched ceiling and bare white walls, the cell did not distract the prisoner from his own thoughts nor did it allow the prisoner to escape the light pouring in. Though the cell is dank and cold, light reaches every corner of it in the daytime. Separating the cell from the rest of the prison are thick walls and small doors. Both the walls and the doors illustrate a meeting point between the design of the cell and that of the prison. The thick walls made it harder for prisoners to communicate with each other and more difficult for prisoners to escape. The doors also emphasized the importance of both penitence and control in Eastern State Penitentiary. When walking through the small doors, prisoners had to duck their heads and were humbled before fully entering their cells. Moreover, the wooden door, which extended past the door frame, sealed the prisoner into his cell. In contrast to the individual cells, the prison was not designed to reform prisoners, but to enable constant surveillance.

A place of aesthetic beauty from outside. A place of silence and regret from inside. Eastern State Penitentiary now looks the way it made the prisoners feel: empty, broken, and alone. These wall that used to be crisp white are falling down, the whole structure of the building is decaying. It has all passed. ESP is a decaying island that stands as a reminder of the suffering it caused. When I finally stepped out of Eastern State Penitatiary, back in the sun and back to freedom, I heard crowds talking incessantly and I felt like a cell myself. But I could feel the misery and insanity of these place and it was suffocating. With all the daily introspection on my crimes,I know I would have gone crazy within the first week.

The original idea of build such prison is good. But the truth is, it overlook the prisoners' crazy behavior. I see the overcrowding, the understaffing as a complete disregard for the ideals of this place. Like all the others, it ended up a very expensive storage areas for criminals. It's only a place which made people want to keep away from. These two things (great conditions and to be pentitent) are irrelevant, and may lead people to thinking committing a crime isn't a big deal, because prison isn't too bad anyway. Small sense of satisfaction that it failed because of its unrealistic goals. It seems prisoners became more like objects to be placed somewhere...

Testament to the failure of the American Dream.

Like all the others, it ended up a very expensive storage areas for criminals.

Is it practical?

Today this pattern still continues but in a subtler way.

There are still hundred of thousands of prisoners today kept in dungeons, medieval-like conditions, for years, huge portion of their lifetimes, with nothing but (conditions?) for their brains to to (ziet?), be warped, and emerge with hatred, anger, and frustration toward the world.

(I couldn't read two of the words.)

Once prison was reform, now it is anti-recidivist and a source of income.

These two things (great conditions and to be pentitent) are irrelevant, and may lead people to thinking committing a crime isn't a big deal, because prison isn't too bad anyway. 

It started out as an attempt to reform individulas but even now the corruption and evolution of corruption is visible in the empty space. 

It might be easier or safer for some of them to stay in jail. 

The original idea of build such prison is good. But the truth is, it overlook the prisoners' crazy behavior. 

I disagree with the way prison is ran by today, but I'm quite confused whether as before, far more strict, is better because less people were imprisoned or if today's system, a better sustained prison life is a better alternative yet having more prisoners.

The lens I used in my last paper was agency, as defined by Sabina Alkirke. For the coming paper, I will continue to use agency as a lens. However, I will use Sherry B. Ortner's definition of it from "Thick Resistance: Death and the Cultural Construction of Agency in Himalayan Mountaineering." Ortner's definition will allow me to view agency as a more fluid form of power; people have agency when they already have some sort of power, and they use agency to expand on the power they already have.

In class, several people argued that Zadie Smith’s Natalie was the only character who showed any agency. By doing well in school, becoming a lawyer, and marrying a wealthy man, Natalie escapes poverty. But, is Natalie the only character who has agency in NW?

Sabina Alkirke analyzes several researchers’ methods of studying agency in “Subjective Quantitative studies of Human Agency.” She finds that agency is not only measured by a person’s ability to change her socioeconomic class. Alkirke broadens the definition of agency to be “people’s ability to act on behalf of what matters to them” (Alkirke 223). She presents agency as multi-faceted; it can be measured objectively through a person’s resources, but also subjectively through feelings of empowerment (Alkirke 23). Agency, therefore, is both an internal and an external phenomenon. Using Alkirke’s definition, Natalie has agency, but so do Leah and Felix.

I want to focus on Frank's death and how it relates to the theme of agency throughout the book. Frank's death helps Natalie's/Keisha's and Leah's stories move and is very important to the ending of the story (which involves both women). However, I want to know how Frank's death affects Frank's story. Frank is the character with the most agency throughout the story. He not only changes his life around by getting clean and becoming committed to the woman he loves, he recognizes that he needs to change internally in order to lead a happier life. What does the reader learn when Frank dies? Are we supposed to learn that a person with agency will die if they cannot escape poverty? I would prefer not to think so. However, to learn how Frank's death works with the theme of agency in the novel, I want to do a close reading of his death. I think once I understand why his murderers killed him, I will understand the consequences of his death much better.

There is something nice about being wrong. In the past, I have been ashamed of my “wrongness;” I have been embarrassed after I write a flawed essay or define a word incorrectly. However, throughout the past couple of years, I have felt more and more comfortable with “wrongness.” There are two ways I could look at it; I could worry that I am not as intelligent or as capable as everyone else or I could revel in the fact that I do not know much. The latter is not only kinder to my ego, it makes me more open to learning. 

When I chose to take this class, I was completely wrong about what it was. I believed that it was a series of trips into the city paired with written reflections on the physical structure of the city. Although we have discussed this, I slowly realized that this course is not based off of topics, but lenses. I am not merely describing experiences, but using class discussions and papers as ways to interpret the city. This is not easy, but it helps me to play with ideas. Taking these influences into the city (Simmel’s, Flanagan’s, Zetkin’s etc.) and combining them with startling discoveries (for example, that there is a place that sells sparkly penis headbands) is the recipe for “wrongness.” My interpretations may be wrong and my further revelations may be wronger. But, this is where the fun is. 

“Subversion in the City”

In the first paragraph, tflurry gives story-like examples of subversion. Then, she delves into more serious definitions of it (that of the OED, Flanagan, and her own). With her own definition of subversion, tflurry argues that subversion is “the means and result” of any sort of deviation from the norm. To me, tflurry’s first paragraph is both playful and critical. In the beginning, tflurry playfully draws me into her interpretation of subversion; she excites my imagination and then surprises me with several definitions of subversion. These definitions provide a buffer zone for tflurry’s next pursuit: to both analyze subversion and provoke the reader to analyze it as well.

“Playing for Power”

In mmanzone’s first paragraph, mmanzone references a previous paper and reflects that her experiences mirror both Flanagan’s “critical play” and Smith’s “four different types of play.” The first paragraph arises my curiosity because I do not know mmanzone’s earlier paper and Smith’s different types of play. Mmanzone makes me play by stating these various forms of play and, in doing so, asks me to play with play; mmanzone leads me to consider all of these types and wonder if play expands much further than I previously thought.

Last week when I went into the city, I was not thinking about “critical play” because I had not read Flanagan’s Critical Play: Radical Game Design. However, when I ventured into Philadelphia this week, I was consciously looking at my experience through the lens of “critical play.” Before and after I went on the ghost tour, I was critically thinking, and while I was on the ghost tour, I felt as if I were playing. Writing about the experience now, I feel as if I have answered the question I asked in my last paper: “If people do not write essays about ‘critical play,’ do they ever really understand the importance of it?” “Yes,” it seems like I could say; I did not have to write an essay to think critically about the ghost tour. Still, I am unsure if I were critically playing while on the ghost tour and if “critical play” is possible.

In “Performative Games and Objects” Flanagan argues both that play is “the aim of play itself” (5) and that “critical play” occurs when a person “critiqu[es] the status quo” (6). My most recent trip into the city leads me to argue that a person cannot play and be critical at the same time, but that a person can facilitate critical thinking before and after “play” if she has the intention of both playing and being critical.