a bi-weekly column
by michelle ampofo ‘25
managing editor
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objet petit a, or, On Spirals and Spiralling
I entered winter break with a list of concrete objectives:
- Update LinkedIn
- Clean up email inbox
- Start thinking about/applying to summer internships
- Think about next semester’s courses
- Officially declare as double major
Leaving break, my objectives (that make perfect sense to me, and of which I will not explain), are less clear:
- Improve considerably in every secret thing
- Yield less
- Remember more
Those are my Resolutions.
Of course, when thinking of New Year’s resolutions, I have a few… smaller hopes. These are things I want to implement in the new year, but are different from resolutions to me. They are categorized into three groups:
Vanity: start wearing blush, find my signature scent, publish more of my work, etc.
School: excel, try out new clubs, participate more in class, traverse new social spheres, grow as a writer, etc.
Miscellaneous: watch less television, drink more water, take more photos, read
more broadly, get more sleep, etc.
Beyond these Resolutions—and the “hopes” I suppose are attached to them—I am choosing not to think about what will happen this upcoming year. I have found that thinking far ahead (“far ahead” as in this January to next January, rather than me right now vs me in five years) often leads to “what if’s” and a terrible anxiety.
I realized recently that I am both nearsighted and farsighted, meaning my body allows me to see only what’s directly in front of me. If I try to look at something too close or too far away for too long, I go dizzy. My eyes, through which I view my life, want me to focus only on what’s directly in front of me. My heart agrees, so why refuse?
I feel compelled to stick to my resolutions, but wonder to what extent they are liberatory. The goal of New Year’s resolutions are essentially a way for a person to continue optimizing and improving themself. (It’s a new year! You should, apparently, try to be different in some way.) A question that arises is—to what end do these resolutions lead? Are we trying to become perfect people or perfect “versions” of ourselves? When does the desire for perfection and improvement begin to look like gluttony, narcissism, or figurative onanism? Have any of us seen perfection?
All of these questions have led me, again and again, to the spiral.
The spiral petroglyph is one of the earth’s oldest, most persistent symbols found in virtually every ancient culture. The spiral is associated with wind, water, emergence, and individual journey, as well as with eternity, fertility, energy, and the force of life. The spiral represents the infinite journey of life and its renewals, birth, death, and rebirth. The spiral begins from the center and journeys outward, or it begins outwards and journeys inward. The spiral has no start or end. The spiral is not a closed system, nor should it ever be. The spiral teaches us not only that motion is always underway, but that the external and internal are intrinsically linked—that one must use external forces and relate those lessons to themselves, and vice versa. The spiral helps one accept the tides of life and its processes. The spiral encourages one to accept both inward and outward evolutions. The spiral loathes stagnancy. The spiral both condenses and reflects the power of creation. The spiral, especially when pointing upward, is a liberatory motif. But, one must also realize that the spiral is an endless vortex, whose force cannot — and will not — stop for anyone at any time. One must acknowledge, yet detach themself, from the spiral, as to not be overtaken. We are all spiraling. There is power in the spiral.
One’s goal should not be to close the spiral. In life, as in many things, the build-up is often more gratifying than the completion.
But. We are living our lives without a map or compass, with only proverbs and precepts, wading through an endless sea. (So much of life is endless, when I stand still I can feel myself falling.) One can try to swim to shore, but there is no shore. Only the endless sea. It is not dark but rather a blinding white. One might look down and think they feel a floor. There is no ceiling. There is no floor. We are in the primordial sea, that is. Yes, because we are primordial beings. I have existed since the beginning of time. I started as a dream, then a thought, and then those thoughts became words. I am the precipice. I am the intersection. I am the manifestation of someone’s dreams, thoughts, and words. Someone wanted me enough to act. Someone acted to create me. And here I am, in this material form. I have been called. I was born.
But I feel like an egg being incubated. I feel like I am in the incubation period of my life. This year, I want to live. I am asking for more life. What can I possibly mean by this? How can my life be more than this, the life in which I am currently living? What constitutes a life? Breath? A soul? A state of being? I want an altered state. The same, but different. I want more life. So why can’t I let go, be free?
I am being incubated. I become. Though I wonder at what age one stops becoming and just is.
I’ll admit, there is a part of me that longs to close the spiral. I have tried and failed to do so. I want to know myself fully, and it is scary to think about how I don’t. I know little about the future me—would I recognize her if she told me she was myself? I know nothing, big or little: about the book that will become my favorite, the song I’ll play on repeat, the state I’ll live in, the job I’ll have, if I’ll be happy. I know even less about past me: about why I said that terrible thing, about why I treated that person in that way, about why I chose to stop when I knew I had to start. A large part of my life thus far has been randomized, up to my time here at Yale, of which I chose to attend after merely flipping a coin. I desire to know myself. In this way, I desire something infinite—that which cannot be obtained. This desire consumes me and it grows, from more to more.
Well, over break another thing happened—I aged. I am Twenty now. And Twenty is a powerful number.
Five years ago, on my 15th birthday, I cried.
Four years ago, on my 16th, I was thinking of something else.
Three years ago, on my 17th, I was crawling out of a bout of depression and a period of intense self-loathing.
Two years ago, on my 18th, I bought a book.
One year ago, on my 19th, I began to dream.
And on the day I turned Twenty, I looked in the mirror and saw someone the same, yet entirely different—someone outside myself.
It seems to me that, at some point—quite recently and perhaps when I wasn’t looking, I accepted that I am myself. This alone has come with immense liberation. I am who I am, I am this way for a reason, I am living a life that only I can live – seeing through a lens that only I can see, and though much of my life has been random, I, in this form, exist. At the very least, it is nice to know I exist. I understand now, that this life is mine. And that has increasingly felt more like a gift, rather than a punishment.
And thank God. I wasted a lot of time, you know, believing myself to be someone abjectly deficient and entirely unoriginal. And banal. Thinking that nothing was worth it because I hadn’t felt anything another hasn’t felt before, experienced anything completely new, thought of any idea not already thoroughly examined. But I understand now (what exactly I do not know, but I do know something.) Something within me has shifted. The scales have changed.
I am who I am. And surely, at Twenty, any solidified aspects of my character are my character—that which makes me myself. They are not deficits to be fixed.
At Twenty, I finally feel something like an adult, because over break, a third thing occurred. And perhaps the greatest thing. I’ve finally chosen my parents. I forgive them, I mean, for all the times they’ve tried and failed.
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Watch:
Shiva Baby dir. Emma Seligman (2021)
Shiva Baby review – A witty exploration of emerging adulthood
Shiva Baby Director Emma Seligman on Making an Anxiety-Inducing Film
Shiva Baby Nails the Perils of Being a Gen-Z Woman – Notion
I fucking loved this movie, and am so happy to have watched it (at the recommendations of my sister and friend Sofia (woah, first name drop in the column!)). I feel like trying to explain this movie, and the reasonings behind my enjoyment of it, are something that should be thoroughly explained rather than concisely. This column is already quite long though, so I will keep it short. I loved the score of the movie, the setting being used as a character itself, the relatability of the main character, the tension throughout, and the movie’s genre-bending, near-horror-like, nature. Like I said, none of that does the movie justice, you should watch for yourself. (I’ve seen it described as the Uncut Gems of hot girls, and I would second that description.)
Krisha dir. Trey Edward Shults (2015)
Not much to say about this one. I watched it after searching “movies like Shiva Baby” on Google. I thoroughly enjoyed it, though, and would recommend.
Wanda dir. Barbara Loden (1971)
Wanda Now: Reflections on Barbara Loden’s Feminist Masterpiece | Current | The Criterion Collection
Getting to Know Barbara Loden | Current | The Criterion Collection
This was the most harrowing movie I’ve watched in a while.
The film follows Wanda Goronski, an alcohol-dependent, unhappy housewife, who has abandoned her husband and children at the start of the film. After a court hearing regarding her departure, Wanda wanders into a bar that is being burgled by an outlaw, Norman Dennis. The film follows the two as they evade authority and try to avoid imprisonment. Between Dennis and Wanda, two different forms of social deviance are illustrated. The former is a criminal, deviating from the formal laws of society, while the latter deviates — and refuses — to remain in the social law of domesticity.
This film was so disturbing for me to watch because the plight of Wanda is a grander depiction of the condition many women are trapped in. Wanda is blatantly abused by Dennis (whom she refers to as “Mr. Dennis.” He, on the other hand, never cares to learn her name), and she accepts the abuse because she believes it is warranted (“I’m just no good. No good!”)
The auditory elements (the fluctuation of sound and the use of silence), camera shots/angles (some scenes are extremely shaky, others extremely still), and the lack of music aid in reflecting Wanda’s mental state and the general aimlessness and quiet despair that enshrouds the film.
The number of scenes that show Wanda looking back (as in looking behind her through the car’s rear windshield), are notable because they suggest her hesitance in the path she is taking. Like Lot’s wife, Wanda keeps returning to the notion of her previous life, perhaps wishing for something to convince her to return. However, in Wanda’s case, each time she looks back, she is rewarded with nothing, and this emptiness increases as the pair drives further away.
It is hard to know the extent to which one should sympathize with Wanda. Although she is nowhere near as corrupt as Dennis, she is by no means a fully redeemable character. Wanda is an adult and complicit in Dennis’ crimes, even though she is ditzy and (feigns?) cluelessness. With that being said, Wanda is also a victim in a vulnerable position. The fact that a woman, Barbara Loden, (who also played Wanda), wrote and directed this movie might provide some kind of answer to this question. In her comments about the film, Loden was clearly aware of Wanda’s faults and the murkiness of her situation. The movie’s contents, while I wouldn’t say they are didactic or a social commentary, present themselves differently than they would if the movie was made by a man. Wanda is both the victim and victimizer of her situation. Both things can be true and acknowledged equally.
It is interesting to me, though, that the movie is titled Wanda. To me, Wanda is not so much a character, but a concept. The film is not one about her, but rather a film of what happens to her.
Disney and Pixar’s Soul dir. Pete Docter (2020)
I’m by no means a Pixar connoisseur, but I fkn’ love this movie.
Read:
(**means i highly recommend)
Books:
The Woman Who Killed the Fish by Clarice Lispector
Cleopatra and Frankenstein by Coco Mellors (hated this one xx)
Winter Recipes from the Collective by Louise Glück
Bluets by Maggie Nelson
Persepolis: The Story of a Childhood by Marjane Satrapi
The Babysitter at Rest by Jen George**
Motherhood by Sheila Heti**
A Light in the Attic by Shel Silverstein
Pure Colour by Sheila Heti**
Água Viva by Clarice Lispector
The Idiot by Elif Batuman
Articles:
Malin Hay · BookTok · LRB 19 January 2023
Opinion | Pamela Anderson Doesn’t Need Your Redemption. She’s Just Fine. – The New York Times
“The Lazy River” | The New Yorker
From Renata Adler to Azealia Banks: The Gentle Art of Making Enemies | Hazlitt
Listen:
to the “real column five” playlist on spotify:
Sextape by Deftones
mary magdalene by FKA twigs
The First Taste by Fiona Apple
Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex
Space Song by Beach House
Cherry Wine by Hozier
Quicksand by David Bowie
Ptolemaea by Ethel Cain
Call Out My Name by The Weeknd
Fuck Me Pumps by Amy Winehouse
Liquid Smooth by Mitski
Symposium Message by Better Oblivion Community Center
Genesis by Grimes
Sunday by Earl Sweatshirt, Frank Ocean
Accept Yourself by The Smiths
What a Difference a Day Makes by Dinah Washington
Kill Bill by SZA
Sweet Carolina by Lana del Rey (ily jen <3)
2023 Ins and Outs
In:
Rabbitholes
Learning is so fun! I think we all agree. This year I want to make more of a habit out exploring interesting subjects for the enjoyment of it, rather than because I will need to utilize that information in an academic way later. I am definitely a rabbit hole (person? victim? dweller?) and plan to continue down that path. (How else would one start with a search about the Weeknd, learn about French immersion schools in Canada, have that lead to the “mark of Cain,” and end with Boudica???)
Wikipedia app
This connects closely to the previous point. I have the Wikipedia app on my phone, and it has greatly increased my rabbit hole dwellings/discoveries. The app logs a history of all the pages you’ve explored, allows you to save articles and create reading lists, shows all the top read/trending articles of the week, and is a fun, more academic/productive thing to do on your phone when you’re bored or standing in line somewhere. Bonus points for the sleek app icon.
Gratitude
Not to sound sappy, but I finally understand the wellness-guru obsession with gratitude. This year I really began to count my blessings and appreciate everything that I have rather than obsessing over the things I don’t. Life does seem sweeter now that I focus on the things that matter (like friends, health, and family) and think with a more “glass half full” attitude. I’m on my way to becoming a reformed pessimist and am happily conceding to that journey.
Tomes
This year I will read all the humongous books I’ve been putting off reading or rereading for years. This is me marking my words.
These are the books on my list: (**means i highly recommend)
The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt
The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson**
The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir
A Promised Land by Barack Obama
Red Comet by Heather Clark**
Ruth Bader Ginsburg: A Life by Jane Sherron De Hart
Why This World by Benjamin Moser**
Sontag: Her Life and Work by Benjamin Moser
America’s Queen by Sarah Bradford
A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara
11/22/63 by Stephen King
I think I could do it.
Conviction
As a person who rarely raises their hand in class and is often inclined to think they are wrong, I have always been drawn to people who are sure of their opinions and state them freely, even if they are slightly contrarian. I think the content of what someone says is either bolstered or diminished by the manner in which they state it, and so someone who stands by what they believe in and possesses assurance about what they are saying is honestly incredible to me. Articulation and conviction are qualities that the best orators (and cult leaders, lowkey) in history have mastered (whether they used those qualities for good or bad is a separate thing), and it really shapes how others rank you, even subconsciously. I swear, I’ve never read The Art of Seduction or anything by Robert Greene (it really sounds like I have, doesn’t it), but I have to agree that conviction is a beautiful, admirable, and seductive trait.
Out:
Apathy:
This is the first on my list because I find apathetic people excruciatingly annoying. As someone who is fairly involved in the literary/art/film scene at Yale, I have encountered many “Apathetic Cool People” (from which I’m coining the term APCs). APCs are shells of people—not by nature, but by construction and design. When talking to an APC, one might feel like they are talking to a brick wall. There is an air of disregard and superiority that constitutes an APC (maybe it’s a characteristic required for entrance within the group?). From the slouch in their seat, their lack of contribution in conversation, the way you never know if they are ever listening. Observing an APC feels like observing a robot; talking to an APC feels like talking to AI, like ChatGPT. There is a vacancy in coolness; something is lost when one actively chooses to be “cool.”
But sometimes, something strange occurs when talking to an APC. One can see a glimmer of their true self—the one who laughs, behaves normally, emotes, contributes to conversation, has apparent substance, etc. but gets the sense that that person is trapped somewhere deep, deep within them (like a character from Get Out.) APCs often express alarm when this person, the real them, reveals themself and each time they are spanked, whipped into shape, and growled at, told “no!,” and made to sit in the corner of the AI’s soul.
I’m being facetious, but seriously, a coolness that over announces itself at some point begins to undermine itself. And it is so easy to tell when someone is putting on an act or being affectatious. Apathy suckssss, it looks insane, and it reeks of insecurity. There is so much to life! Be happy and/or enthusiastic about something (and, it literally doesn’t matter what). Because, honestly, I don’t think I have met someone at Yale who I didn’t think had an element of cool—whether for their smarts, their style, their frankness, their background, etc. And yes, being cool because of your kindness and sincerity is also an option. It all reminds me of the essence of a quote I only vaguely remember: be good, be bad, but don’t be nothing. Don’t be nothing of a person. In a world where you can be anything, why choose to be a concept?
Expecting celebrities to have the same political opinions as you and surprise pikachu-ing when they don’t:
To be clear, when I say this I’m referring more so to (sydney sweeney, m.i.a., lana del rey (basically anything that she says)), not to Kanye level absurdity. I would really love for society to go back to the days when celebrities were essentially seen as characters and were never expected to reveal their true selves. I am really uninterested in knowing the personhood of any given celebrity, and I think this sentiment has been increasingly true for others. Recently, celebrities with little to no social presence (i.e. Alexa Demie, Sally Rooney, etc.) have felt more appealing than those who relentlessly waterboard us with their presence. But, people insist on wanting to know more about their favorite celebrities as people, rather than the characters that they portray and that’s where issues begin to arise, especially when politics are involved. I personally am not looking at celebrities for their political takes (in any way) and wish they would stop revealing them. I think the idea of celebrities being expected to talk about and be public supporters of certain social issues really came into play during the 2016 election and continued during the pandemic. I would venture to say that celebrities are not society’s moral compass. This fact has been made apparent in almost every contemporary instance. Celebrities need to stop—just stop.
A tangential, but closely related point:
People got really mad at M.I.A for the contents of this interview, to an extent that surprised me: M.I.A. and Grimes on What ‘MATA’ and What Don’t
Idk, I truly don’t look to Hollywood to formulate any opinion so the contents of this were not shocking or, if we’re being honest, *that* bad to me. I do think it would be interesting, though, to explore “based” celebrities of color. As in the Azealia’s, M.I.A’s, Mindy Kaling’s, that don’t exactly subscribe to the mold and/or beliefs that are expected of them in their respective groups, and are therefore “not claimed” (re: “we don’t claim her!”), hated, or even shunned. What does it mean to be an individual within a culture? What are the repercussions when one deviates from their culture’s expectations? What does it look like when one diverges from a monolith? I don’t have any answers, but I do have some thoughts.
“As a child of immigrants, I…”:
This is perhaps my hottest take, and it’s one that is coming from a child of immigrants. But I can’t, and won’t, explain.
Mass individualism:
You know, this is something we all have to break free from, including myself. The act of placing yourself in the mold of what is cool at any given time (which cycles quickly because of the shortening life span of Tik-Tok and mainstream fashion trends, societal amnesia, fast fashion, advertisements, etc) is an especially college aged issue and generally a result of living in a society that profits off of people hating themselves and wanting to change and fit in according to what’s seen as valuable in the moment. So in a way, we are victims. I have definitely fallen into the habit of adopting what’s “in” at a place and time (Birkenstock clogs, Crocs, New Yorker tote bag, over-the-ear headphones, etc) and tried to convince myself that I like these things in a ~different way~ than everyone else does. It happens to the best of us, and I really don’t see myself ever entirely stopping. But I think being aware of it is important. Not for nothing, trends have always been a thing people have subscribed to, and I do think I have my own personal style, vibe, aesthetic, whatever one may call it. (I also never fell for “Twee,” Chelsea boots, or the baguette bags that were popular on Depop a few months ago, so I’ll give myself that.) I will also say that, to me, the notion of “individualism” is itself debatable, but I still think the above points hold true. Everyone wants to be ~cool~ and ~subversive~, and now everyone is the same thing.
Shitting on religion:
This point is somehow a bit simpler than the previous one. The world has always had problems and there has always been turmoil, but shitting on religion and the people who use it for solace/to guide their lives in difficult times is not unique nor new and is at this point entirely uninteresting. I think everyone is a little annoyed by new and militant atheism besides the people who partake in it themselves. Though I will say it is kind of interesting how atheism has, at some levels, become religionized and imbued with its own set of principles and doctrine. There are a lot of atheist evangelists—I say that partly because it’s true and partly because they would hate for this to be true.
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writer’s note: this is the first column of the new year! yay!!! thanks to all who are still reading :’) i have a lot of fun ideas for the columns to come.
but for now, you’ve reached the end!
byeeeeeeeee,
michelle
unauthorized syllabi is a bi-weekly column. beyond that, i am unsure of what it is. last cycle, i wrote about the number twelve, the chicken family structure, compromise vs. settling, and the gendered implications of marriage.
Image sources:
Shiva Baby: MUBI, “Shiva Baby (2020)”
Krisha: Rogert Ebert, “Krisha movie review & film summary | Rogert Ebert”
Wanda: NPR, “Overlooked In The ‘70s, ‘Wanda’ Finally Gets Her Due” Soul: NPR, “’Soul’ Creators On Passion, Purpose And Realizing You’re ‘Enough’”
