Loving, Reading, and Traveling: A Psychological and Semiotic Reading of Jules Verne's Around the World in 80 Days

In Jules Verne's Around the World in 80 Days, an ostensibly straightforward tale of global adventure unfolds as the enigmatic Englishman Phileas Fogg accepts a wager to circumnavigate the globe in just eighty days. At first glance, Jules Verne’s novel is a product of its time (the 19^th Century); the plot is an ode to technology, exploration, and British punctuality. However, by employing a dual theoretical lens, Erich Fromm's humanist psychology and Roland Barthes' semiotic critique, the characters emerge as vessels of deeper truths. Through these perspectives, we can interpret the novel not only as a travel story but as an exploration of love, identity, and the symbolic operations of narrative.

The Exterior and Interior Protagonists

Mr. Phileas Fogg, with his clockwork routine and emotionless disposition, initially appears as a flat protagonist. His actions drive the plot, but his personal transformation remains subtle. In contrast, his French valet, Jean Passepartout, provides the emotional arc of the novel. Verne introduces Fogg as a man who "never hurried and was always ready" (Verne, ch. 1), a figure ruled by reason. Passepartout, however, is the relatable counterpart: reactive, humorous, and often overwhelmed by the chaos of the journey.

While Fogg is the external agent of the story plot’s motion, Passepartout is the internal witness, growing visibly throughout the narrative. Their dynamic mirrors Fromm’s dialectic between sterile conformity and authentic engagement with life. Both characters complement each other having the reader question who the real protagonist of the story is; both can be a good response to the doubt their interaction in the plot presents.

Frommian Love and Human Transformation

In The Art of Loving, Erich Fromm posits that love is not a fleeting emotion but an art, one requiring maturity, discipline, and the overcoming of narcissism. Dr. Fromm writes, "Love is the active concern for the life and the growth of that which we love" (Fromm, 1956, p. 25). Early in Verne’s novel, Fogg embodies what Fromm would label as automaton conformity, a state in which man suppresses individuality to fit societal mechanisms. This is evident in Fogg's regulated lifestyle and emotional aloofness. Based on the idea of Victorian society, Phileas fits society and its mechanisms thoroughly.

However, as the journey unfolds, Fogg undergoes a subtle evolution catalyzed by two essential figures in the story’s plot: on the one hand we have Passepartout, and, on the other hand, there we have Aouda. Passepartout exhibits Frommian brotherly love through his loyalty, concern, and emotional responsiveness toward Phileas. Passepartout often chooses conscience over convenience, such as when he intervenes in Aouda's rescue from suttee in India, an act that disrupts Fogg’s schedule but aligns with moral duty and the way an English gentleman is meant to behave under the circumstances described in the novel.

Aouda, the rescued Parsi widow, becomes the emotional catalyst for Phileas Fogg. Her presence introduces vulnerability and mutual care. When Fogg learns that he has seemingly lost the wager, his first instinct is not despair but to ensure Aouda's well-being and her peace of mind. In her words, "You are more than brave; you are good" (Verne, ch. 35), affirming Fogg’s latent emotional depth that is only emerging through, at the beginning, his relationship with Aouda. His eventual proposal to Parsi widow suggests that Fogg has finally learned Fromm’s productive love, rooted in care, respect, and responsibility, rather than passion or possession.

Semiotic Structures and Barthesian Myth

While Fromm emphasizes inner transformation, Roland Barthes invites us to read the novel as a system of signs, revealing how characters function less as individuals and more as ideological symbols. In Mythologies, Barthes argues that myth is a type of speech: "Myth transforms history into nature" (Barthes, 1972, p. 129). In this sense, narratives like Jules Verne’s mask their ideological underpinnings by presenting them as neutral or universal individuals.

Phileas Fogg, in this light, is the mythic subject of imperial rationality: self-possessed, efficient, and in control of what happens in his life. He is not merely an Englishman; he is England or rather, what England imagines itself to be at that moment in history. His mastery of time and space, epitomized by his calm response to calamities and unexpected events, enacts the colonial fantasy of global domination through logic and machinery that the Brits projected at that moment in time.

Jean Passepartout, by contrast, is a semiotic disruptor. He constantly interferes with Fogg's plans, unintentionally introducing chaos and thereby injecting spontaneity into the text, something that can be described as the opposition of what Phileas is or represents. Barthes would likely interpret Passepartout as the reader's surrogate, puncturing the illusion of control and revealing the constructed nature of the narrative. Passepartout is the foil character that makes sense for the story in the plot’s narrative.

Aouda, in Barthes' framework, is a problematic figure. Though she provides emotional depth to the story, she also represents the Orientalist trope, the exotic woman rescued and civilized by the Western man. As Edward Said notes in Orientalism, the West often constructs the East as "a passive object of representation" rather than a subject with agency (Said, 1978, p. 108). Aouda’s symbolic function is less about autonomy and more about fulfilling narrative closure through romantic resolution.

Detective Fix, the comic and obnoxious antagonist, embodies the paranoia of the modern surveillance state that wants to know what individuals are up to. His relentless suspicion of Phileas Fogg, despite mounting evidence of his innocence, operates as what Barthes calls a hermeneutic code, a narrative delay that sustains tension while masking deeper ideological patterns.

Synthesis: Love and Ideology in Motion

By marrying Fromm's ethics of love with Barthes' structuralism, we gain a fuller understanding of Verne's novel. Fromm helps us see Fogg’s journey not just as physical but spiritual, a movement from detachment to connection. Barthes, on the other hand, exposes the ideological undercurrents of that same journey, revealing how cultural myths of Western supremacy, gender roles, and progress are embedded in the text.

As Terry Eagleton notes, "Literature does not exist in some aesthetic realm divorced from ideology. It is itself a form of ideology" (Eagleton, 2008, p. 19). Around the World in 80 Days is therefore both a narrative of emotional awakening and a map of 19th-century semiotic ideologies. Phileas Fogg becomes a man capable of love, but he remains a signifier of empire. Passepartout grows as a human but also functions as a comic safety valve for the story's tensions. Aouda catalyzes moral growth but also reflects cultural reduction.

In the end, Verne’s novel, like the journey it depicts, oscillates between freedom and control, between authentic love and cultural myth. The question is not simply whether Fogg wins his wager, but whether he becomes more fully human. And through the eyes of Fromm and Barthes, we see that perhaps he does but only just.

References

Barthes, R. (1972). Mythologies (A. Lavers, Trans.). New York: Hill and Wang.

Eagleton, T. (2008). Literary Theory: An Introduction. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

Fromm, E. (1956). The Art of Loving. New York: Harper & Row.

Said, E. (1978). Orientalism. New York: Pantheon Books.

Verne, J. (1873). Around the World in 80 Days (translated by George Makepeace Towle). Public domain translation available via Project Gutenberg. https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/103

10 Possible Topics for Literary Criticism Enthusiasts

1	Passepartout as the true protagonist: emotional arc versus mechanical precision.
2	Time, clocks, and punctuality: Verne’s obsession with mechanized life.
3	Aouda and Orientalism: rescuing or silencing the “other”?
4		Inspector Fix as the embodiment of the surveillance state.
5		Colonial geographies: what does it mean to “travel the world” in the 19th century?
6		The wager as existential metaphor: is Fogg betting against life itself?
7		Technology and transportation: progress or illusion of control?
8		Humor and chaos: Passepartout as Barthesian punctum in a structured narrative.
9		Fromm’s art of loving: Fogg’s transformation into a man capable of intimacy.
10		Adventure fiction as ideology: Eagleton and Said on Verne’s narrative of empire.

Literary Reflective Journaling on Jules Verne’s novel, August 2025: My Notes

Phileas Fogg: The Exterior Protagonist	Function: Fogg is the novel's driving force. He makes the wager and sets the journey in motion. Personality: Stoic, precise, emotionally restrained — almost machine-like. Role in Narrative: He is the external protagonist whose actions dictate the plot's structure (locations, pacing, deadlines). Transformation: Subtle. His rigid logic begins to soften through the journey, especially after meeting Aouda.
Jean Passepartout: The Interior Protagonist	Function: Passepartout is the reader’s surrogate — curious, emotional, reactive, and constantly evolving. Personality: Loyal, impulsive, comic, human. He reflects the chaos that Fogg’s structure tries to suppress. Role in Narrative: While Fogg moves the plot forward, Passepartout generates conflict, humor, and character development. Transformation: He undergoes more visible growth. He learns from Fogg’s composure but also helps Fogg rediscover humanity.
Interplay Between Fogg and Passepartout	Their relationship mirrors order vs. spontaneity, reason vs. instinct, British stoicism vs. French vitality. Passepartout often complicates Fogg’s schedule — yet his errors and intuition often lead to eventual success (e.g., rescuing Aouda). The bond between them evolves from formality to deep friendship, with Passepartout becoming emotionally invested in Fogg’s success.
Aouda: The Catalyst	Role: Adds an emotional dimension to Fogg’s life. Her presence brings out his compassion. She is symbolic of the human consequences of Fogg’s rational decisions. Her growing closeness to Fogg causes both men (Fogg and Passepartout) to reevaluate their priorities.
Detective Fix: The Antagonistic Foil	His misunderstanding of Fogg as a bank robber introduces suspense. He reflects the limits of logic without context, a contrast to Passepartout’s intuitive understanding of Fogg’s character. While he opposes Fogg’s goal, he ironically aids in achieving it.
So, Who’s the Central Character?	Technically, Phileas Fogg is the protagonist — he makes the bet, the story revolves around his deadline, and he experiences personal change by the end. However, Passepartout is arguably the central narrative consciousness: He’s more emotionally accessible to the reader. We see Fogg’s transformation partly through his eyes. He provides the tension, the comic relief, and many of the moral stakes.
In Literary Terms	Fogg = flat character with slow but meaningful growth (a classic Verne archetype of reason and progress). Passepartout = round character who actively changes, feels, fears, and learns — more relatable and dynamic.
Conclusion Both are central, but in different ways: Role Phileas Fogg Passepartout Drives the Plot ✅ ⚪ Provides Perspective ⚪ ✅ Changes the Most Emotionally ⚪ ✅ Controls the Stakes ✅ ⚪ Emotional Anchor ⚪ ✅

 

Final Juxtaposition: Fromm vs. Barthes

Final Juxtaposition - Fromm vs. Barthes by Jonathan Acuña

In his haiku "bedside vigil / the child folds / a paper caladrius," Wilbert Salgado presents a poignant moment charged with the tension between the suffering of a child and his fragile hope for recovery. At the foot of semiotics bubbles up a spring of symbolic resonance that invites deep reading of this haiku text. Through the lens of semiotics—particularly Roland Barthes’ theory of signs and mythologies—this haiku can be interpreted as a structure of layered meanings, where cultural symbols such as the bedside vigil, the origami bird, and the child construct an intricate network of signifiers. These signs guide the reader in decoding not just a surface narrative but a more profound symbolic message. Still under the yoke of illness and helplessness, the child turns to creation as a quiet act of resistance. Rather than merely describing a tragic or fatal event, the haiku operates as a dynamic system of signs, encoding stark themes of fragility, faith, and the enduring human desire for transcendence. In this compact verse, a kind of maimed Semitic gospel takes shape—one bejeweled with mythical associations and deep emotional resonance, taking big strides into the heart of meaning itself.

Barthes’ concept of the "readerly" and "writerly" text becomes especially relevant when deciphering the rich, symbolic depth of this haiku. “Barthes used the terms lisible (‘readerly’) and scriptible (‘writerly’) to distinguish, respectively, between texts that are straightforward and demand no special effort to understand and those whose meaning is not immediately evident and demand some effort on the part of the reader” (Britannica, n.d.). Wilbert Salgado’s haiku is firmly situated in the latter category. Unlike a readerly text, which presents a linear and transparent narrative, this poem resists easy interpretation and instead demands active participation in meaning-making. It is a writerly text in every sense, “characterized by an emphasis on the elaborate use of language” (Britannica, n.d.), and more crucially, by a layered symbology that invites the reader to grapple with its nuanced challenges.

The phrase “bedside vigil” immediately denotes a stark image of distress and anticipation, often evoking scenes of loved ones keeping watch over the ill or dying. Yet in a semiotic reading, the vigil becomes far more than a moment of passive waiting. It morphs into a ritual space—a temporal limbo—where hope and dread intermingle, and time seems suspended. One might ask, what’s the endgame? Is the vigil an act of faith or a final farewell? According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, a vigil is “an event or a period of time when a person or group stays in a place and quietly waits, prays, etc.” (n.d.). But within the child’s experience, this act of waiting becomes something more visceral. It is a site of transformation, where the child—perhaps unconsciously—attempts to cast out demons of fear and grief through the creation of a paper caladrius.

This bird, folded in silence, speaks volumes. It may be lifeless in form, but symbolically, it’s charged with the hope of healing, with the idea that illness might be transferred, carried off, and effaced from the body. The works do bear witness of a child’s inner world—a world where imagination becomes a tool of survival. The paper caladrius rummaging through the air of the sickroom may never take flight, yet its presence testifies to the emotional labor, the faith, and the longing condensed into each crease. In this interpretation, the poem delivers a stern warning against reducing illness to sterile medical moments; instead, it elevates the emotional and spiritual undercurrents often overlooked or effaced from clinical narratives. Like sweatshops of feeling, haiku can compress entire universes of pain and transcendence into a few syllables. Salgado’s poem achieves just that.

The caladrius, a mythical bird believed to absorb illness and carry it away, operates in this haiku as a sign within a sign—a layered symbol that holds both cultural weight and personal significance. The child’s act of folding a paper caladrius transforms the poem into a mythological structure, where symbolic action intersects with emotional need. According to Barthes, myth naturalizes history—it renders cultural constructions as eternal, unquestioned truths. Yet, as Schwartz (2024) clarifies, “Rather than giving us timeless truths, [myths] give us evidence of what may be true in a particular time and place, but not in all times and places.” This distinction is essential for understanding how the caladrius functions not merely as an emblem of medieval healing but as a vessel for contemporary emotional projection.

In this context, the child’s gesture becomes more than a moment of imaginative play; it is a reenactment of an ancient belief in symbolic healing, repurposed in the fraught space of illness. The folding of the origami bird is both delicate and determined—a moment of agency in a situation otherwise marked by helplessness. As Divyadharshini and Thamayanthi (2022) explain, “Myths extant concepts that distort the truth and matter an illusory view of ‘Nature.’ Barthes contends that myths are often used to back a specific view of what should be measured as normal and natural.” Here, the child does not question the naturalness of the myth; instead, he lives within it, casting his hope into a symbol that promises relief.

From this perspective, Wilbert Salgado takes on the role of a mythologist in the Barthesian sense. He identifies and revives a cultural myth—the healing power of the caladrius—and re-presents it through poetic structure. His haiku deconstructs this myth by isolating its symbolic parts: the child, the paper bird, the bedside vigil. Then, through a stark reenactment of its meaning in a modern context, Salgado shows how myth is not static but continually reshaped by the emotional and cultural landscapes in which it reappears. The haiku becomes a subtle critique and reaffirmation of symbolic thinking—a mirror to the illusory certainties we often turn to when language, medicine, or logic fail us.

Barthes’ notion of the punctum—the element of a text or image that personally wounds or deeply moves the reader—emerges poignantly in the juxtaposition of the child and the paper bird in Wilbert Salgado’s haiku. Although Barthes originally developed the concept in relation to photography, punctum refers more broadly to what he “defined as the sensory, intensely subjective effect of a photograph on the viewer: ‘The punctum of a photograph is that accident which pricks me (but also bruises me, is poignant to me)’” (Smolik, 2014). Transposed into a poetic context, Wilbert’s punctum lies in the quiet tension between childhood innocence and the stark reality of illness. This tension generates a deeply affective response. The fragility of the folded paper bird becomes an emblem of life’s own vulnerability, while the child’s act of folding reflects a human instinct to cast meaning into suffering—to create form out of chaos.

This contrast is not merely visual; it is semiotically rich. The gesture of folding is small and quiet, yet symbolically monumental. It becomes a subtle but powerful enactment of resistance—a fragile hand attempting to hold together what is falling apart. The works do bear witness of an emotional reality: in moments where language fails or adults falter, the child turns to creation. As Media Studies (n.d.) affirms, “the punctum is a ‘higher value’ added to the photograph by the observer. It is the direct and powerful relationship between the observer and a particular signifier in the image.” If we extend this to haiku, the punctum in Salgado’s scene is not imposed by the poet but invited by the reader, who is moved by the singular moment of a child folding a paper caladrius.

Contemplating Wilbert’s depiction as if viewing a still photograph, the reader is compelled to explore the layers of meaning embedded in this delicate act. The folded bird becomes more than origami—it embodies hope, grief, and spiritual yearning. It reflects not only the child’s hope for recovery but also a cultural longing to cast out demons of despair through symbolic gestures. In a world still under the yoke of uncertainty and helplessness in the face of illness, this tiny figure at the bedside encapsulates both the pain and the persistence of belief. Thus, what initially seems like a simple poetic image becomes, through the lens of punctum, a haunting and unforgettable visual charged with quiet desperation and enduring hope.

Ultimately, Salgado’s haiku, viewed through Barthes’ semiotic framework, transcends its brief form to function as a mythopoetic text—a literary structure in which symbols operate far beyond their immediate or literal meanings. As explained by Oxford Reference (n.d.), a mythopoetic text is “A form of literature that has the structure, look and feel of a myth, but is in fact a contemporary creation rather than a story passed down by tradition.” This conceptualization is especially relevant when considering the caladrius myth, which—though rooted in medieval lore—has here been reshaped, even rummaging through modern sensibilities, into an origami creation folded by a child in distress. One might ask, How long has the caladrius myth been around but distorted into an origami creation? The answer lies not in chronology but in cultural adaptation: the transformation of myth to meet the emotional and symbolic needs of the present.

In this haiku, the bedside vigil, the child, and the caladrius do not function in isolation. They intertwine in a dynamic cultural narrative of faith, vulnerability, and endurance, revealing how deeply embedded myths—whether distorted or preserved—continue to shape human expression. The child, still under the yoke of suffering, engages in a quiet symbolic act that echoes timeless mythic patterns. Despite the advances of science and the shifting paradigms of modernity, the human impulse to create signs of hope remains—testifying to our need for meaning in the face of existential uncertainty.

The haiku thus does not merely depict a moment; it encodes a universal myth of healing, one in which language, symbolism, and belief converge in a concentrated poetic gesture. It is a brief text that performs big strides in its symbolic reach. As Porter (2023) insightfully notes, “Mythology acts as a reflection of humanity, a connection of personhood and storytelling that spans through history.” Salgado’s poetic vision resonates with this insight, offering readers not only an image but a bejeweled fragment of a maimed Semitic gospel, reframed through the delicate hands of a child. In doing so, his haiku embodies the mythopoetic spirit—a form where ancient belief, modern vulnerability, and literary precision meet.

Toying with the myth behind the caladrius and the symbolic depiction Wilbert creates in his haiku, I composed a kind of “response”—an attempt to view this photo punctum from a slightly different angle:

Though I am not a poet, nor do I pretend to be a haiku creator like my friend Wilbert Salgado, I offer this response as an amateur literary critic seeking to reinforce the mythological reading of his haiku. The phrase “poised for healing flight” intentionally echoes the medieval belief that if a caladrius flew away from the ailing individual, it signaled impending recovery; if not, the person was doomed. This stark dichotomy between life and death is embedded within the symbolic framework of the bird. Furthermore, the imagery “night bends toward the dawn” aligns with Barthes’ view of myth as a form of ideological reassurance, where cultural symbols provide comfort amid uncertainty. In this metaphorical shift from darkness (illness, despair) to light (healing, renewal), the myth is not merely invoked but activated—serving as a narrative bridge between suffering and salvation.

What I found most compelling in Wilbert’s poem is the way he compels the reader to recognize the caladrius not as a generic bird but as a bejeweled symbol, carefully folded through the ancient art of origami. It is in this transformation that the punctum emerges—not from the bird itself, but from the act of folding, the presence of the child, and the quiet vigilance beside the bed. Whether the child is the one suffering or stands in vigil for a loved one, each element—the origami bird, the vigil, the bed, the surrounding night—becomes a signifier within a wider semiotic web. These are not simply descriptive parts of a scene but symbolic articulations of faith, fear, and hope. Wilbert’s haiku does not merely gesture toward meaning—it invites a rummaging through layers of signification, drawing the reader into a mythopoetic experience where the line between cultural memory and personal grief is delicately blurred. It is a poetic piece that stands out on its own, not only as a narrative of illness but as a semiotic landscape where myth and modernity converge.

In conclusion, Wilbert Salgado’s haiku operates as more than a poetic snapshot of illness and innocence—it becomes a site of semiotic excavation, where ancient myth, contemporary emotion, and symbolic action coalesce. Through Barthes’ framework, we have seen how the haiku not only constructs a layered system of signs but also resurrects a mythopoetic logic in a modern form. The caladrius, reimagined through origami, emerges as both a cultural artifact and a personal prayer, drawing the reader into a dialogue between tradition and reinterpretation. The haiku’s punctum—that subtle, piercing detail that resonates—rests in the tension between suffering and symbolic resistance, and its meaning, like the folded bird itself, remains delicate yet enduring. By responding with a haiku of my own, I sought not to match Salgado’s craft but to explore how myth invites response, and how poetic fragments can still reflect the broader nuanced challenges of meaning, memory, and healing. In doing so, we affirm that the works do bear witness to a world still seeking language for loss—and finding it, at times, in the quiet folds of verse.

📚 References

Britannica. (n.d.). readerly and writerly. Retrieved from Britannica.Com: https://www.britannica.com/art/readerly

Divyadharshini, R., & Thamayanthi, P. (2022). Myths Credence: Barthes Vs People In Mythologies By Roland Barthes. Journal of Positive School Psychology, 1630-1634.

Media Studies. (n.d.). Studium and Punctum. Retrieved from Media Studies: https://media-studies.com/studium-and-punctum/

Merriam-Webster Dictionary. (n.d.). vigil. Retrieved from Merriam-Webster Dictionary: https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/vigil#:~:text=also%20:%20a%20period%20of%20wakefulness,kept%20vigil%20at%20her%20bedside

Oxford Reference. (n.d.). mythopoeic. Retrieved from Oxford Reference: https://www.oxfordreference.com/display/10.1093/oi/authority.20110803100220550#:~:text=A%20form%20of%20literature%20that%20has%20the,than%20a%20story%20passed%20down%20by%20tradition.&text=As%20Richard%20Slotkin%20demonstrates%20in%20a%20powerful,nation%2

Porter, A. (2023). Both Human and Holy: A Veneration of Personhood Through Mythic Means. MFA in Visual Arts Theses(19).

Schwarts, B. (2024, August 22). Social Science, Ideology, Culture, & History. Retrieved from Behavioral Scientist: https://behavioralscientist.org/social-science-ideology-culture-history/#:~:text=Rather%20than%20giving%20us%20timeless%20truths%2C%20they,but%20not%20in%20all%20times%20and%20places.&text=Rather%20than%20giving%20us%20timeless%20truths%2C%20the,but%20not

Smolik, N. (2014, November14). ‘Punctum. Reflections on Photography’ Brings Barthes to the Digital Age. Frieze(17). Retrieved from https://www.frieze.com/article/punctum-reflections-photography-2014-review#:~:text=But%20what%20was%20unique%20to,%2C%20is%20poignant%20to%20me).

Questions for Further Exploration

Instructions: Discuss the following questions in small groups or write reflective responses that integrate literary theory, personal interpretation, or close reading of similar texts.

1.    How does the myth of the caladrius enhance the emotional and symbolic depth of Salgado's haiku?

2.    What is the role of silence or minimalism in constructing meaning within haiku poetry?

3.    How does Barthes’ concept of punctum apply beyond photography and enrich literary analysis?

4.    In what ways can a writerly text like Salgado’s haiku invite reinterpretation across cultural or historical contexts?

5.    How does origami function as a symbolic act in the poem? Can it be considered a form of narrative or ritual?

6.    What is the significance of the child’s perspective in the haiku? How might it affect the reader’s emotional engagement?

7.    How does the interplay of fragility and strength operate in mythopoetic texts?

8.    What cultural or religious parallels exist between the caladrius and other mythical or sacred healing symbols?

9.    How does the juxtaposition of ancient myth and modern illness underscore the universality of human suffering and hope?

Topics for Literary Critics to Develop Further

Instructions: Choose one topic and develop it into an academic paper or article, incorporating theoretical frameworks and literary examples.

1.    Haiku as Mythopoetic Form in Contemporary Literature
Explore how haiku has evolved to encode myth in modern poetic expression.

2.    The Semiotics of Origami in Narrative Poetry
Investigate paper-folding as a metaphor and signifier in world literature.

3.    Barthes’ Punctum in Micro-Poetics: A Case Study Approach
Analyze how punctum appears in minimalist poetry forms, including haiku, senryu, or flash fiction.

4.    Rewriting the Sacred: Myth and Healing in Minimalist Verse
Compare mythical symbols like the caladrius in poems that deal with illness, death, and faith.

5.    The Role of Children as Symbolic Catalysts in Poetic Imagery
Examine how child figures function within poetic symbolism and myth-making.

6.    Fragility and Form: The Semiotics of Delicacy in Contemporary Poetics
Discuss how formal delicacy (syllable constraints, sparse images) conveys deep psychological and cultural meanings.

The Semiotics of Hope and Despair in Wilbert Salgado by Jonathan Acuña