My shame is unspeakable

I really should stop working on blog nights. After I lapse into the Zen state necessary for masterful card-swiping, I quickly forget all about my homework. These blog posts aren't the only thing I forgot about tonight—it's really nothing personal, Hybrid Writing Blog! Please take me back! No answer... that hurts. Before I convince whoever happens to read this that I've completely lost my mind (I haven't), I'd like to say that I haven't gotten a full night's sleep in about a week and I'm currently reeling from some baaaad sushi. If whoever reads this (read: Talissa) takes nothing else from this muddy stream of consciousness, please take this most earnest exhortation: don't eat at Tako Sushi. The last time I ate there I came out unscathed, but the time before that was very nearly murder by Poke Roll. I like to think the proprietors are involved in a vast and intricate conspiracy to assassinate me, but I don't have enough paranoia to keep that idea afloat. Also, it just seems more logical that they're simply unscrupulous and more interested in profiting on students' strong stomachs and weak culinary standards. After all, they print "God Bless You!" at the bottom of their receipts! How bad could they be? Very, it turns out. I thought I'd play it safe tonight by avoiding rolls with raw fish, but it didn't matter. The soft-shelled crab in my Spider Roll must've died on its own, and well before I was born.

So with that elaborate and unnecessarily detailed explanation of why I'm not at my absolute best right now, I proceed to the rest of the post. After all, I'm not here to make excuses; I'm here to make a freeform prose composition at least loosely related to the class. Well I referenced the blog title earlier in this post, and I'm sure that counts. And if not, whatever. Frankly, I'm sick of talking about Maus. I like it and have come to respect it as a work of art and storytelling, but enough is enough. Eight to ten pages and several class discussions have given me a bit of a Maus overdose. Then again, I may be unfairly channeling my weariness and mild food poisoning at Maus. If so, sorry Maus. In any case, I'd rather talk about something else. But now I've painted myself into a corner because I've already written about every other work we've read, and would actually sooner Maus than any of them. Fine, talk about Maus I will.

I don't think that all of Spiegelman's animal metaphors are as well thought out as they could've been. I like the use of mice to represent Jews because it's provocative, subversive, and effective. Having Germans be cats and Americans be dogs follows pretty logically from that and also gives a clever nod to the power hierarchy of the era. But what of the other representations? Poles as pigs? I'm not even sure I understand what Spiegelman is going for there, but I feel like it should offend me. Is he saying that Poles are greedy? Dirty? Delicious for gentiles but off-limits to Jews? The metaphor just doesn't quite hold up. Pigs are also renowned—among domesticated beasts, at least—for their intelligence. Surely Spiegelman isn't attempting to compliment the people who sold his people out. Then what? I can't really think of any other obvious pig associations, and something obscure would defeat the purpose of having such a heavy-handed metaphor in the first place. French frogs and Swedish moose? I call that giving up. Making the French into frogs is just making an ethnic slur literal. Not impressive. Swedish moose? Well, what other animal lives in Sweden? The strangest of all are the British fish. Is that some kind of nod to their naval power? Their drinking culture? Did Speigelman even mean for it to have any symbolism? I don't know, but I'm pretty sure that the pressure to represent every nationality with a different animal must've forced Spiegelman to make these somewhat iffy decisions. Metaphors don't come for free, it seems.