Week 4 Project 4a - Group #1

The Big Valley by Mark Arax

The Big Valley is about one man's hopes, dreams, past, and future. He starts by telling of his childhood, remembering every detail. He remembers his fathers magnificent fig orchard that was once the empire of J.C. Forkner, and how he used to ride his L'il Indian through the miles of trees. Upon reading The Big Valley you can clearly see how much the world around us has changed; from 700 acres of farmland to Wal-Marts and fast food chains. As we read, we journey through pivotal stages in his life that made him who he is now. Even though many of the farmers in the Central Valley have sold their land to large franchises, he carries on his father's legacy as best he can with his own little garden in his backyard. It is clear that everything his father taught him about farming, remains with him still today. He calls himself an "honest farmer"with the "country" right outside his window.

My favorite part was "What we glimpse on 99 on our way to Disneyland or Candlestick park wasn't the prettified vineyards of Napa or the gentle wheat fields of the Midwest. The valley had its own rusty, gnarled, corrugated, fermented beauty. Our farmers weren't farmers. They were growers" (page 21).

The reading made me think of the many years that I spent growing up in the Fresno area. I can relate with everything that Arax said. I remember going to the farm show in Tulare when I was little. I remember being amazed at the size of the tractors, listening to the chatter of the farmers, and the joy I would get when I pulled a chocolate milk out of the giant tub of milk cartons. When he talks of Highway 99 and how every third vehicle was a big rig "hauling away some piece of the valley's lavish bounty," or how he grips the wheel tighter on the long stretches with no concrete or metal barrier separating the southbound and northbound traffic, it reminds me of the countless times I made the trip from my hometown south of Tulare to Fresno. I can even relate to his life living on a farm, as my grandfather is a farmer and I would spend hours running through his walnut groves and picking cotton from his fields to play with. Today, my grandfather still battles the franchises that want to take his land and the overseas farming that takes away his business. But like an "honest farmer" he still battles on doing what he loves.

I did not know about the small town of Traver before reading this. Apparently the town shot up in the 1800s and "held the world record for the greatest amount of wheat shipped from a producing point during a single season." I have been along that highway countless times and have never noticed the sign to the town the no longer exists. It's amazing how today's lifestyles have caused so many towns like this to whither away as fast as they came.


Transients in Paradise by Aimee Liu

Transients in Paradise is about a woman who lives in Beverly Hills despite her obvious disgust with the lifestyle that surrounds her. She tells of grandiose mansions "shaped like Versailles...or the White House...or Hadrian's Villa." She wonders what's underneath these people who have altered themselves to reform to the town's standards. In the opening, the author quotes a line from Italo Calvino's Invisible Cities, "Cities, like dreams, are made of desires and fears.." Beverly Hills is consumed with desire as the masses try to catch a glimpse of the latest superstars and line the streets with their couture and diamonds. She recalls a funeral that she attended, and instead of shedding tears, the family was asking guests to judge the size of their biceps. Then when a man in a wheelchair who was not of beauty and wealth passed away, she notes that his funeral would not have been full of mourners talking of their personal trainers, but the equivalent of schadenfreude (to delight in another's misfortune). She believes that Beverly Hills is spoiled as they have all their refuse and such exported to Los Angeles, which was forced to surrender its idealism long ago. She ends her passage with another quote by Calvino that captures her struggle with Beverly Hills and how she must accept the city in which she lives.

My favorite sentence was "We are all transients of one kind or another. On our way into or out of wealth, into or out of sanity, beauty, love, health, or death" (page 32).

The reading made me think of how we are all so obsessed with such material things. We are always needing to have the biggest and best of everything and never settle. It's amazing how a city can be so spoiled as to have its own refuse trucked out of the city. They have no cemeteries, hospitals, or slums. They think so highly of themselves that they are too good to show any signs of a normal city. Instead, they parade around in their SUV limos wearing clothes probably more expensive then my rent. It somewhat reminded me of the movie Wall-E and how we are all so reliant on technology and "things" instead of enjoying the beauty and simplicity of life.

I did not know that Beverly hills had no hospitals, cemeteries, and also had their refuse exported to Los Angeles. I find that fascinating that a city is too good for its own waste, illnesses, and dead.


Showing Off the Owens by T. Jefferson Parker

Showing Off the Owens is about a man who wanted to show off his little piece of paradise, the Lower Owens River, to his friend who was visiting from New York, Brian Wiprud. His friend had never seen the river, and he was very proud to show it to him as they were both avid fly fishers. In fact, he compares fly fishing to a progressive diseases. One bite and it lodges into you and begins to grow. Brian was an amazing fly fisher though, even showing guides how to catch fish on their own rivers, even if he had never fished there before. They spent the day in the river's beauty catching piles of fish. They were both at home on the river.

My favorite part was "It's a progressive disease, like rabies, that starts with an innocuous bite then lies dormant. The bite might be a fish you were lucky enough to catch, might be the beauty of a river or the mountains around it, might even be a movie you saw. However the bug gets into you, it lodges, digs in, then begins to grow" (page 39).

The reading made me think of the times I would spend fishing in Success Lake near our house with my dad and brother. We would spend all day out there fishing away. I usually wouldn't catch anything, but my dad and brother always did. It's now just a wonderful memory.

I did not know there was even an Owens River. The way Parker describes it makes it sound like such a magical place. It would certainly be a trip worth taking with my brother so we can reminisce about the good ol' days.


The Distant Cataract About Which We Do Not Speak by Mary Mackey


The Distant Cataract About Which We Do Not Speak is a lovely and picturesque story about a couple who spend their time in the American River. She tells tales of her sneaking up on mallards, beavers swimming about, a green heron that perched upon her blue cap, and a coyote playing with a stick. They spend countless hours on their little paradise island in the middle of the state's bustling capital. They have seen it all at the river, Hmong families ornately dressed, priests blessing the river, and Samoans singing "Under the Boardwalk" while sipping cold beers. Her favorite memory is when a Japanese priest launched lanterns across the river to commemorate those who died at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. They sat there in peace on their river of light.

My favorite sentence was "we have agreed to imagine we are not a five-minute drive from our home and a twenty minute walk from the university where we both teach, but instead in some remote part of California where just out of sight a magnificent waterfall foams down into a green pool" (page 48).

The reading made me think of when I was younger, my family used to go up to the Springville river above our house and spend hours in it. No matter how cold it was, we would always get in and enjoy its coolness. We would spend Easter, Memorial Day, Fourth of July, and countless other holidays up there. It was our own little world.

I did not know about the tradition of the lanterns on the river. It sounds like it would be an amazing site to see. It reminds me of the luminaries that they display during the Relay for Life.