ELEPHANTS CANT

Elephants cant jump. Yup, thats right. Earths largest land creature cant
just push itself off the ground. But then again, try picturing an elephant jumping
it looks odd. Oh hey, didnt notice you there. I was thinking about elephants,
something I dont do at all. Strange, considering this personal anthology is based
on elephants. I do not claim any fascination with elephants, I never had a Beanie
Baby elephant as a child and honestly despite recognizing the allure of the majestic
beasts I never really got elephant fever. I can guarantee you one of your more
worldly friends has an elephant paper weight or an elephant figurine, or even
better: an elephant hemp tapestry. I mean, walk into any ritzy home decor store and
youll find some semblance of an elephant, but I digress. If Im so apathetic
towards elephants, why chose them to represent myself? Why sift through website
after website trying to fit pieces of a puzzle to fit something that I dont really care
about? The answer is simple. Self-discovery cannot come from ones prior
knowledge of oneself, but through the interpretation of oneself through other
means. Okay, maybe that wasnt simple. What Im saying is that: I have an idea of
myself and I cant keep using things that I know represent me to define who I am. I
rather try to find pieces of myself in things that are alien to me than stay within a
me bubble. Because then, on some sort of philosophical level the only me I see
is the me Ive created within a vacuum and not the me that I am in an objective

reality. This stuff is too deep for me and I wrote itELEPHANTS, yeah lets go
with that.
Inspiration:
Ernest Hemingways Hills Like White Elephants, 1927
How the notions of Personal Anthology and Elephants linked in my
synapses was due to the firing of neurons from my high school brain. In secondary
5 I read Ernest Hemmingways short story Hills like White Elephants, and I was a
deep kid... still am, just scroll up and look at that pseudo-smart-philosophicalwannabe stuff. However, in reading that story I felt completely dumb, like
what?! I had no idea what anything was. Absinthe, sounds like a spell from Harry
Potter How was my innocent mind supposed to know the whole thing ways
about ABORTION?! I read the title thinking I was going to get some sort of
elephant-scenery figurative-language stuff. But nope what I got was a Spanish train
station, illegal alcohol, and a potential abortion. Thanks public school! No matter
how hard I tried I would never have gotten the full scope of the story on my own.
Those things were things that I never knew about. I didnt know what the process
of an abortion was like, the code words or the subtleties, I didnt know about
alcohol, and I didnt know that white elephants was some universal symbol for a
pricey endeavour. Thats when I realized the interaction with the text makes

reading it significant. One constantly brings their experience to whatever theyre

reading, they imagine houses in the way theyve experienced houses, they piece
faces together based on faces theyve seen, and people interpret a sentence not for
what it is but what it means to them. That is why, when I hear anthologies and
short stories, Hemmingways is the first that pops up because it was the first piece
of literature that I ever faced where I didnt have all the answers. I was desperately
trying to piece together meaning through vague semblances of what I thought I
knew. And thats what Ill be doing in this Anthology, Ill be trying to figure myself
out through works of authors, artists, and a friend. Im trying to paint a portrait of
me through the minds of others, all minds which at one point or another thought
creating something with the word elephant in it or a theme regarding elephants
was a good idea.
Sylvia Plaths Metaphors, 1959
That being said, I rather stick my head in an oven than write about elephants.
I mean, like now that Im writing this Personal Anthology Im thinking that all
that philosophical banter about finding myself through foreign means is just too
clich. Also, the way Im doing this its so me. Im just rambling, while trying to
be funny: which has failed me so many times before in academia. Like, I wish I
could take myself seriously enough to compose something with gravitas but I
cannot, even when it is demanded of me. And maybe thats why I had to google

Sylvia Plaths "Metaphors" to derive any meaning from it. I didnt try hard at all to
decipher its meaning or look at its depth. I saw the word elephant and was like
BOOM! CHECK! FEMALE WRITER POST 1945! Its a short poem (score!)
filled with guess what? A bunch of metaphors, and one of them has to do with
elephants so ta-da! In into the anthology it goes: Im a riddle in nine syllables, An
elephant, a ponderous house, A melon strolling on two tendrils (Plath, 1959). So
this is what I got to work with. Thats the only time she mentions elephant ever. A
mere two words. An elephant. Well if were just going with that, bye, see you
later, have a nice day. I cant do much with that, but Sylvia is doing so much more
with the entirety of her poem. Shes describing herself, shes using metaphors
combining things that are foreign to each other- in order to create a message about
herself. Ultimately thats what Im doing. Im combining my self-awareness with
works from creators vastly different from myself to tell you message about me. As
gradesaver can tell you, this poem is a struggle between Sylvias impending duty
as a mother and her loss of individuality because of that. My duty here is to give
birth to an elephant OUCH! Oops did I say elephant? I meant elephant anthology.
Within this duty I will not to lose my individuality. My thought process is here for
you to see, I wont write formally or expect any praise. Im doing what I believe
the assignment to be. I am showing my persona through works, just like Sylvia
described her situation through metaphors.

Genesis:
Salvador Dalis Swans Reflecting Elephants, 1937
So this painting, or a cheap dollar store copy of this painting, hung in my
house for YEARS. I mean, childhood right here. And for the longest time I never
saw anything BUT swans. Yeah. No elephants. I remember walking down the stairs
one time, and just looking at it. Which is what good art is supposed to do, its
supposed to make you stop and interpret. Next to it where paintings of hell and
heaven, Hieronymus Boschs Garden of Earthly Delights. I remember spending a
good half an hour intervals analysing every detail of these paintings. Being
fascinated with the imagination it took to think of these images let alone the skill to
bring them to life. So during one of these intervals I finally noticed the elephants in
the water. Mind blown. And thats what I hope will happen again in this anthology.
Maybe youll see swans, maybe youll see elephants. You can read my writing and
base opinions about the image of myself Im putting forth, or you can look past my
words tilt your head and squint your eyes and see a completely different person.
Its up to you. Im just the painter, youre the interpreter.
Walt Disneys Dumbo: Pink Elephants on Parade, 1941
WHY?! WHY DID ANYONE THINK THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA?! NOT
ONLY DO YOU MAKE A MOVIE WHERE A LITTLE ELEPHANT IS

OSTRACIZED, HARASSED, AND TAKEN AWAY FROM HIS MOTHER, BUT

YOU INCLUDE A MUSICAL SEQUENCE FILLED WITH FLORESCENT
SHAPE SHIFTING PACHYDERMS! I have never been drunk, and if this is what
its like count me out. Im surprised Im even including this on the list. I could
have easily added something from Elephunk, The Black Eyed Peas album, which
was my first CD ever. But I thought this was more fitting, because its impactful
and disturbing...and besides, a little weird never hurt nobody. I rather be
remembered for morphing pink elephants than a pop album. Im like that,
comfortably outside the box. Everyone knows Disney but Pink Elephants on
Parade is something out of left field for the company. And thats where I come
from Left field. Also, me using that saying is hilarious because I dont even
know what sport that its referencing and whats more I dont care (probably
lacrosse).
Kathryn Jacksons The Saggy Baggy Elephant. 1947
That son-of-a _____ parrot! How dare you?! HOW DARE YOU?! SUKKI
IS JUST TRYING TO HAVE A GOOD TIME AND YOU MAKE HIM FEEL
LIKE DUNG BECAUSE OF SOMETHING HE CANT CHANGE. SCREW
YOU PARROT! This poor baby elephant comfortable with himself and enjoying
life then suddenly feels the need to change who he is because of a remark from a
stupid parrot. I am that baby elephant. I remember being care-free, not worried

about my childhood obesity and my feminine tendencies. I was happy eating icecream and watching The Little Mermaid. BUT NO. SCHOOL HAPPENED.
GENDER NORMS. SOCIETAL EXPECTATIONS OF BEAUTY. School was a
giant parrot. But unlike the saggy baggy elephant, I didnt try changing myself. I
was like... hey parrot, up yours. Im still very much like that today, though I have
parts of myself that bother me and am really insecure I wont make a conscious
effort to change things. Its 50% laziness and 50% principle. God made me this
way and aint nothing wrong with it. So yeah, could I have lost a few pounds...
probably. Could I have toughened up and played with trucks instead of dolls
yeah. Would I have been happy? MAYBE. Im not gunna lie, my childhood was
rough. Comments were made about my size, others about the group of friends I
hug out with, and others were just mean. Im happy with the person I am today, so
all those parrots can SHOVE IT!
Perception:
Eletelephony by Laura E. Richards (1850-1943)
This work is one of my favourites, not because of its writing style or
anything of the sort having to do with the text but because of my imagination.
Laura E. Richards won a Pulitzer prize for Julia Ward Howe, a biography, which
she co-authored with her sister, Maud Howe Elliott. Her children's book Tirra

Lirra won the Lewis Carroll Shelf Award in 1959 (thanks Wikipedia!). Which is
great! You go girl, taking Feminism one more step! However, even though she won
a Pulitzer prize people still think of her as the Eletelephony Lady. Like, she
could have written the most profound book in the world, given you the answers to
lifes unanswerable questions and still be the Eletelephony Lady. Her nonsense
verse is quite entertaining, witty, and cute. Just like me ehehehehehehe. But I find
my downfall happens when I step out of those zones. Im the entertainer, the funny
guy, Mr. Positive. So when I have a bad day, people are always You cant be sad
youre the happy guy. Or Makes us laugh. Or Why arent you telling jokes? I
am the Laura E. Richards amongst my friends. I may have something of value to
say, or be really deep but there always needs to be a Eletelephony, or in my case
a punchline.
Banksys Elephant in the room, 2006
Is this elephant entertained? Is it in his DNA? Are elephants born in captivity
programmed to Entertain? At least hes not walking a tight rope walk of shame
or balancing on critiquing eyeballs. Hell remember that moment, hell remember
being painted pink and gold. Being forced to walk into a warehouse and just stand.
Hell remember the people who came from all over to see art. Whats the
significance? or Such artistic direction theyll say. Wow! theyll exclaim.
What is he trying to tell us?, What is the social critique this time? Theyll ask.

My legs are tired. I dont know anyone here. The food sucks. So bright. Im
cramped. Why am I here? Being born into a world that has no role for you to play,
humanity gives you a purpose. This time it was art, it could have easily been
exotic meat, ivory supplier, rug or For just a dollar a day you can save
Jumbo. My name is Tai. My name is Francesco, the world set me up. Hmm lets
see Chubby kid, not the sharpest tool in the shed outgoing. Hmmm we have a 2
spots available for you. Either seclude yourself and burry yourself in books. Or be
funny. Just that. No one will see you as anything but that. Not a romantic interest,
nor an intellectual, or even a real person. Well, Im not fond of reading - Okay
then funny it is, have a nice life. For a dollar a day you can invest in this boys
identity.
Francesco Pagnottas Peanuts, 2015
So Im pretty Frank, I tell it like it is. Not because I like starting a
commotion, but I usually do so without realizing. Im not malicious but when
words escape my mouth, sometimes people dont understand. Im really
sensitive. I hate having a grudge against me. I will toil and fret if I believe
someone doesnt like me. But its just in some peoples nature. They hold on
tightly to principle. Intent vs Impact. I get it. Even if I didnt mean to do something
bad, and something bad happens because of me. Im at fault. I get that. Ill
apologize in a heartbeat, not even mentioning my intent. But its the lack of

forgiveness that drives me crazy. Im an extremely forgiving person, I blame Jesus.

When people dont forgive. Its a poison they hold onto. But because Im so
empathetic I just feel that discomfort. So yes. Im kept awake by the opinions of
Mice. They are nothing to me, I can crush them. I have nothing to fear. Yet, I cant
help but be perturbed by the opinions of others.
Pliny the Elder [1st century CE] (Natural History, Book 8, 1-13)
The elephant is the closest of all animals to humans in intelligence. It understands
the language of its own country, and can therefore understand and obey orders.
Pliny gave elephants a lot of credit in the first century CE. I wonder what is was
like when the first human met an Elephant. Would they be like I thought youd be
hairier (Mammoth reference), or would they have been like What big ears you
have granny. We only know what weve been exposed to, when Im met with a
new situation I tend to make snap judgements. Call it instinct, call it naivet, call it
whatever you want. Its a conscious effort on my part to look past the superficiality
of something but once I do, I tend to learn a lot. Like this Pliny guy, Ive learned
about him and his letters to the heads of states in the Roman Empire. He sent many
letters in regards the persecution of the early Christian church and the procedures
and follow through in eliminating them. Too bad he didnt spend the time he did
with elephants with Christians. He spent time analysing the elephants ways of life,
and personifying them. However with Christians if they deny our Gods, kill

them. When it comes to introspection, I tend to treat myself as Plinys Christiansuperficially. Im a good person, Im nice, I donate to charity But Im an
elephant. If I truly observe my life, the way I interact with people, my thoughts, my
emotions and my actions theres so much more. Elephants are wise and just,
remember their duties, enjoy affection, and respect religion. They know that their
tusks are valuable, so when a tusk falls off they bury it. Elephants are gentle, and
do no harm unless provoked. Theres much in common between me and Plinys
elephant. However, they have a lesson to offer me. The bible says guard your heart
(Proverbs, 4:23), its valuable, and easily corrupted. My heart is my tusk, my
personality the time I spend on people and endeavours is precious. I need to learn
how to bury them, to keep them hidden and safe from people and forces who
would hurt me. Now that sounds melodramatic but I believe there are such things
as forces of good and evil. Theres a constant battle and I find myself in the middle
of it. My tusk is trying hard to remain ivory, but to do so I must burry it in faith and
keep it away from evil. Woah, Frank where is this coming from?! ELEPHANTS.
Valerie Hamiltons Elephants, 2015
God I love Val! Shes such a gem of a friend. Im really lucky to have her in
my life. She wrote this for me. SHE WROTE IT FOR ME. Im grateful. Shes a
trooper. Shes so in love with writing and literature. The opposite of me. Anyway
in Elephants every indent counts. Every indented line a shifting narrator. Circus

elephant or insecure person? WHO KNOWS?! Her final lines are not something I
agree with, I dont think were animals. But I do know that sometimes we can act
like animals and limit our own potential. I cant this and I cant that. You cant
expect a fish to walk on dry land. But a human can breathe underwater with the
proper tools. If we stuck to our limitations wed accomplish nothing In my life
Ive used tools to survive. Whether it was my wit, or humour, goodwill etcetera I
will always remember the spaces entirely too small you forced me in, trapped in a
cage of doubt, society has cast around me. I used my tools to survive but they led
me into a cage. I was put into a box. Wrapped in doubt. Still am. Maybe all a caged
elephant can look forward to is remaining caught. My tools got me into this cage,
and Im not sure they can get me out.
Jojo the elephants You Can Depend On, 2012
Im not an art critic. I like this. The fact an elephant drew this makes me
happy. You dont associate elephants with art, just like you dont associate
Francesco Pagnotta with anthologies. You can depend on what you assume or you
can let the world surprise you. Surprise.

Soul:

Joesph Merrick's (The Elephant Man) Sideshow pamphlet, 1862-1890

So how many more sob stories can we get Frank? You were fat. We get it.
You made yourself funny. There are much worse things in life. Have you even
faced emotional torture? Have you REALLY struggled? So what, people expect
you to be funny all the time, you could be a loner. Admit it, you like being the
center of attention. Tis true, my form is something odd, youre right I could have
it much worse. However, could I create myself anew, I would not fail in pleasing
you. I could give you something you want, what you already expect a shell. A
human circus, a freak to be laughed at, an entertainer. But if I could create myself
anew, without needing to please you, I would be measured by the soul, not my
role or talent. People see my exterior and what I put forth, how can I blame them?
They dont read my pamphlet. My anthology. They dont see that funny is a part of
who I am but on the whole Im more than that.
Elephant in the Room, Terry Kettering, 2012
I just kinda googled Elephant blogs. This post came up. It was one of the
first ones that spoke of figurative elephants rather than peoples safari vacations.
This blog uses figurative language to describe the crushing pain of losing a child
during pregnancy and how people continue on despite the trauma. In my life I
always found the How are you? question perplexing. You ask it to people on the

phone, on the street, after a greeting... Its so fake. People rarely care about how
you are. I know sometimes I dont. When we ask this questions we pray that we get
the right answers. We expect the fine or grammatically incorrect good, despite
life shattering reality. In the case of this blog, interactions are merely surface. They
chose to avoid the pain in front of them in order to put others at ease which is as
fake as a flying elephant (sorry Dumbo). All these faces we put on for other
peoples sake. It makes me bitter. When my grandfather passed away in December
I looked upon my Grandmother giving a rehearsed speech to strangers over and
over again. Hes in a better place and all that jazz. She was comforting people
who showed up out of tradition not because they cared about him or us. They all
put on a face. Even my grandfather in death wore a mask, skin pulled back into a
smile, blushing cheeks, and nice suit. But reality hits hard, you cant fake the
marble cold touch of a corpses skin. So how are the kids? Hows life in Toronto?
I remember you when you were thhiiiis tall. MY GRANDFATHER IS IN A
COFFIN LESS THAN TEN FEET AWAY FROM YOU. Why? Why not
acknowledge the situation and allow sadness to take its time? Maybe people are all
elephants, all entertainers in their own right. Trying to survive. Trying to fit into
boxes. But ultimately the last box we need to find into cant fit elephants, only
people.
John Godfrey Saxes The Blind Men and the Elephant, 1816-1887

I love this. I hate this. I love it because I can understand its meaning. I hate
this because I have to explain it now. Its obvious. Im not here telling you
summaries of works so that you dont read them. The opposite. Im here to make
you read them, and learn about me in the process. Well heres the me part. Ive
experienced God with my eyes closed many times. Ive felt His absence, His
judgement, His contradiction, His rigidity, His ambiguity, His scorn. My walk with
God has been in the dark. Doing I what I thought I had to do, acting how I thought
I was supposed to act. I could always feel something there in the dark but I could
never get it just right. I failed to SEE God, thus I felt the world. I felt the darkness.
I felt the sin, the shame, the doubt. But I knew there was a God somewhere, despite
not knowing it I touched Him. In 2014 he blew his trumpet, stomped his feet and
anointed me with living water. My eyes are open. And all those things I thought
were God ceased and now I know who He is.
George Orwells Shooting an Elephant, 1936
I read this work in a summer course. Never thought Id use it for anything. I
was wrong. This short story can be read as a tale of imperialism and all that jazz. I
just rather look at it from my perspective. I felt so bad for the elephant. I felt bad
for the narrator. I felt bad for the Burmese people. All are victim of circumstance.
All are under the influence of powers above them. All seem to have free will but
fall into a larger scheme of oppressed and oppressor. However, its the conscience

that speaks to me the most. The narrator feels bad for the Burmese people, but his
white-saviour-ness can only be taken so far. By the end of the story he feels less
than empathetic. I find myself in his shoes so many times, and find myself filled
with regret. I try to help, thinking Im doing good. But I do more harm. I try to
rebuild but I destroy. Im a Bull elephant in a china-store at times. I feel like one
of those elephants covered with scars. Whered he get all those scars mommy?
Social interactions sweet heart, its a dangerous world we live in. I grow to
resent, because I cant forget. And say I forgive but forgiveness doesnt write
good prefaces.
African myth, How the Elephant got its Trunk
Like all myths it explores the genesis of creation. How things became what
they are now. And that is what this preface is. If you know me. Hi. If you stumbled
on this website. Hi. Youve been given a Francesco Pagnotta mythos through the
use of Elephant texts. How Francesco got his humour, how Francesco found
religion, how Francesco interprets himself and the world around him. I have all
these feelings, went through crisis and turmoil. However, its left me with a
flexible trunk. A trunk that allows me to approach life with outstretched arms and
thirst. I am an elephant. Im big, Im more than I appear, and I cannot be forgotten.