Growing up, I always told my mom that I didn’t want to live past sixty-five. I know it is a little morbid but I thought that would give me enough time to do all the things that are important to me—get married, raise a family, and then watch my children have kids of their own. What more could there be? I can’t imagine that anything significant or exciting happens past that age. Obviously Florentino and I share some similarities—we are both gerontophobic.
Although Florentino never says he wants to die at an early age, he does every thing he can to keep himself young. I believe that had Florentino not been living for Fermina’s love, he would have preferred to die much earlier than he did so that he did not have to witness his body begin to atrophy. I reached a conclusion on the subject: living is only necessary when a body has a purpose. Dying without succeeding in telling Fermina how he feels would have been ludicrous for both Florentino’s sake and also for the literary purpose of not disappointing the reader.
Florentino never explicitly describes a fear of growing old but he takes care of himself impeccably and chases after women young enough to be his granddaughters. This behavior is character of a person who does not want to recognize the passing of time. Florentino repeatedly says that the only time he ever realizes so many years have gone by is when he sees the many changes in both Fermina’s physical appearance and her demeanor.
The theme of gerontophobia is so important in Love in the Time of Cholera that Gabriel Garcia Marquez presents it on the very first page. The reader quickly learns that an acquaintance of Dr. Juvenal Urbino has killed himself. We also learn that Jeremiah de Saint-Amour’s death by gold cyanide is not motivated by love like other similar cases, but rather by the fear of getting old. Unlike Florentino and many others that suffer from gerontophobia, Jeremiah submits to his fear and ends his life. Obviously when deciding if old age can be an exhilarating or fruitful, Jeremiah determined that it could not and therefore resolved to dying not a day past sixty years old.
Another character who has an unfavorable opinion about the elderly is Fermina Daza’s daughter Ofelia. She despises the new bond that her mother makes with Florentino. She even calls love at her mother’s age revolting. Although he initially argues with his sister and supports the companionship between Fermina and Florentino, Fermina’s son, Dr. Urbino Daza, also has some strong prejudices against the elderly. He says, “Humanity, like armies in the field, advances at the speed of the slowest.” (312) In his mind, the slowest is synonymous with the oldest. He envisions a world in which the elderly are isolated from the rest of the population in communities that can spare them the embarrassment of not being able to take care of themselves any longer—much like modern-day retirement homes. He also believes that seventy years of life should be somewhat of a cut-off point.
Marquez depicts in one sentence that Love in the Time of Cholera is based in a society that subscribes to the belief that there is a point one reaches in his or her life when the body is half decayed while the person is still alive. In some ways though, the union of Fermina and Florentino is able to refute the common assumptions that living at an old age is a death sentence in itself. By living and not surrendering to the temptations of death, they discover that vitality does not disappear with age.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Love.
Over the weekend I went to the movie theater to see the new Love in the Time of Cholera movie. I thought the make-up was caked on, the acting was over done, and the progression of scenes was choppy and lacked flow. I also felt that the movie left out some parts of the book that I enjoyed, but accentuated seemingly meaningless scenes. For instance, there is a five-minute period in the movie that consists only of Fermina Daza sitting by Juvenal Urbino’s coffin while her friends and family walk by offering their consolations. I cannot possibly imagine why the director thought that this scene deserved so much attention. Fortunately enough, I happen to greatly enjoy the Love in the Time of Cholera book. I think the book is so much better because Marquez brings you inside the characters minds and souls, where as the movie only shows you external characteristics.
Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s style is unique and captivating. He describes the ordinary events of three people in love with ornately poetic language. He even discusses vile bodily functions like urinating in a flowery manner. One line in particular caught my eye: “The ship made its way across the bay through a floating blanket of drowned animals…” I felt that this was a particularly aberrant way of describing the horrifying picture of rotting flesh that Florentino Ariza encounters on his passage across the ocean back to the country of Fermina Daza. Love in the Time of Cholera would not be nearly as enticing had it been written in plain language with more dialogue.
I also didn’t like how the movie stripped the mystery from the book. It happens almost every time I see a movie based on a book I have read. I have this idea in my head about how gallant a character is or how handsome he is and then the movie totally destroys that image. Javier Bardem, the man cast to play Florentino Ariza, appeared older and plainer—and by plain I mean ugly—than any of the other characters. It disappointed me to see such a crazy, ugly man chasing after Fermina, rather than the tall, dark, slender, tortured, and mysterious boy I had pictured in my mind.
However, seeing the movie before finishing the book did help me in a few ways. It helped point out the themes that are carried from beginning to end in the novel. One theme I noticed and found intriguing was that of learning to cope and developing coping mechanisms. Marquez portrays this theme when he says that Fermina not only learned to live without love, but in spite of it. One coping mechanism that is very clear in both the novel and the movie is the way that Florentino “attempts” to get Fermina off her mind. By the end of the third section, he conquers a total of 622 women and logs them into his notebook. He loves only Fermina, but uses the passion of physical encounters to forget her in the moment. Another coping mechanism that Florentino employs is eating flowers to remember the way that Fermina smells.
So far, this book is definitely my favorite of the ones we have read. I often find myself reading past the required section because I can’t put it down. I am excited to see more differences between the movie and the book once I complete the latter.
Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s style is unique and captivating. He describes the ordinary events of three people in love with ornately poetic language. He even discusses vile bodily functions like urinating in a flowery manner. One line in particular caught my eye: “The ship made its way across the bay through a floating blanket of drowned animals…” I felt that this was a particularly aberrant way of describing the horrifying picture of rotting flesh that Florentino Ariza encounters on his passage across the ocean back to the country of Fermina Daza. Love in the Time of Cholera would not be nearly as enticing had it been written in plain language with more dialogue.
I also didn’t like how the movie stripped the mystery from the book. It happens almost every time I see a movie based on a book I have read. I have this idea in my head about how gallant a character is or how handsome he is and then the movie totally destroys that image. Javier Bardem, the man cast to play Florentino Ariza, appeared older and plainer—and by plain I mean ugly—than any of the other characters. It disappointed me to see such a crazy, ugly man chasing after Fermina, rather than the tall, dark, slender, tortured, and mysterious boy I had pictured in my mind.
However, seeing the movie before finishing the book did help me in a few ways. It helped point out the themes that are carried from beginning to end in the novel. One theme I noticed and found intriguing was that of learning to cope and developing coping mechanisms. Marquez portrays this theme when he says that Fermina not only learned to live without love, but in spite of it. One coping mechanism that is very clear in both the novel and the movie is the way that Florentino “attempts” to get Fermina off her mind. By the end of the third section, he conquers a total of 622 women and logs them into his notebook. He loves only Fermina, but uses the passion of physical encounters to forget her in the moment. Another coping mechanism that Florentino employs is eating flowers to remember the way that Fermina smells.
So far, this book is definitely my favorite of the ones we have read. I often find myself reading past the required section because I can’t put it down. I am excited to see more differences between the movie and the book once I complete the latter.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
No more sound. No more fury.
After finishing The Sound and the Fury, I was filled with a sense that it had not been completed. There was no big finish, no conclusion to the life of the Compsons, and certainly no happy ending. The story ends and all we know is that Mrs. Compson is needy and self-pitying, Jason is embittered and conniving, Benjy is distraught, Father and one Quentin are dead, while the other has run away, and Caddy is still the promiscuous exile. To me, Faulkner’s ending resembled one you might see in a horror film. Just like in The Hills Have Eyes, the pretty girl barely manages to get out alive and escape her evil pursuer. However, the fact that both the pretty girl and the pursuer both manage to survive the entire movie leaves the viewer with the ominous feeling that maybe this tale isn’t quite over. And in a year, that viewer’s suspicions are justified when she sees the cheesy previews for upcoming sequel.
Comparing The Sound and the Fury to The Hills Have Eyes is really only to point out that neither instilled in me a definitive answer as to why the story began. There is one major difference between these two endings, though. Faulkner did not make me feel as though Jason would continue to be a powerful character that could cause problems for Quentin in the future. Jason seems worn down physically and mentally. The scene in which he is so plagued by a headache that he has to pay a “negro in overalls” to drive him home shows just how weak and vulnerable he really is. Even though Jason would hate to admit it, Quentin won the war.
Quentin coming out as the strong, independent character in the end symbolizes a kind of rebirth for the Compsons. If she is strong enough emotionally to endure all of Jason’s torment and strong enough mentally to reclaim all the money that he had swindled her out of, then she is most definitely strong enough to restore dignity and class to the Compson name. She is the one character that leaves the reader with a sense of hope for her well-being after the completion of the novel.
I was left with a few lingering questions towards the end. I have this nagging desire to know if Quentin will reunite with her mother or just stay with the man with the red tie? I would also really like to know if Quentin’s decision to flee the Compson household was influenced by Caddy at all or if it was purely to spite Jason? I think perhaps some of Quentin and Caddy’s correspondence could have evaded Jason’s dictatorial control. That would explain Quentin’s knowledge that Jason had been hoarding all of the money that was intended for her. If they were able to do this, Caddy and Quentin could have planned and pulled off a proper escape. Besides the details of Caddy and Quentin’s relationship, I am also wondering about the significance of a couple passages. I did not understand what the purpose of the Reverend Shegog’s appearance was. I also did not understand what the altercation between Jason and the disgruntled old man was about.
Hopefully our class discussions will help me solve these mysteries!
Comparing The Sound and the Fury to The Hills Have Eyes is really only to point out that neither instilled in me a definitive answer as to why the story began. There is one major difference between these two endings, though. Faulkner did not make me feel as though Jason would continue to be a powerful character that could cause problems for Quentin in the future. Jason seems worn down physically and mentally. The scene in which he is so plagued by a headache that he has to pay a “negro in overalls” to drive him home shows just how weak and vulnerable he really is. Even though Jason would hate to admit it, Quentin won the war.
Quentin coming out as the strong, independent character in the end symbolizes a kind of rebirth for the Compsons. If she is strong enough emotionally to endure all of Jason’s torment and strong enough mentally to reclaim all the money that he had swindled her out of, then she is most definitely strong enough to restore dignity and class to the Compson name. She is the one character that leaves the reader with a sense of hope for her well-being after the completion of the novel.
I was left with a few lingering questions towards the end. I have this nagging desire to know if Quentin will reunite with her mother or just stay with the man with the red tie? I would also really like to know if Quentin’s decision to flee the Compson household was influenced by Caddy at all or if it was purely to spite Jason? I think perhaps some of Quentin and Caddy’s correspondence could have evaded Jason’s dictatorial control. That would explain Quentin’s knowledge that Jason had been hoarding all of the money that was intended for her. If they were able to do this, Caddy and Quentin could have planned and pulled off a proper escape. Besides the details of Caddy and Quentin’s relationship, I am also wondering about the significance of a couple passages. I did not understand what the purpose of the Reverend Shegog’s appearance was. I also did not understand what the altercation between Jason and the disgruntled old man was about.
Hopefully our class discussions will help me solve these mysteries!
Friday, October 26, 2007
The Sound and the Fury
The Sound and the Fury is obviously very difficult to understand sometimes. I find it interesting, though, that I had very few problems understanding Benjy’s section even though he is a mentally handicapped character. His memories and flashbacks are so vivid that they provide the reader with better understanding of this family’s past. I also picked up on the catalysts that make him remember very quickly. It got to the point where I knew a flashback was coming even before it started.
Even though Quentin is not the one with a mental disability, his section was much harder for me to comprehend. His actions are fairly clear until he too starts having flashbacks. Unlike Benjy’s flashbacks, Quentin’s are not a vivid, re-living of the past. Instead they are mere memories fragmented and randomly occurring throughout the course of his day. Sometimes, Quentin will start remembering something, cut off in the middle, and resume again a few pages later. Perhaps Faulkner does this jumping around in Quentin’s section to signify the way human brains move erratically from one thought to another, especially under stress. The average human being has a very hard time dealing with intense emotions, as shown by Quentin’s resorting to suicide. Quentin’s obsession with the past has crippled him internally and his brain is scrambling to make sense of it all. It is very confusing to read the inner workings of a person’s mind, especially when they are so convoluted.
Quentin’s section stands out because it is almost eighteen years before any of the other four sections. The other three are all within a day of each other and make up the whole of Easter weekend. This kind of distinction in time must mean that Faulkner thought June 2nd, 1910 to be a very important day for the Compson family. Because Quentin’s section takes place on the day that he dies, it is his last opportunity to express any details that may provide greater insight into the lives of his family, mostly Caddy and Father.
Benjy’s and Quentin’s thoughts are both focused on Caddy, making her an important piece to the Compson puzzle. It will be interesting to see if this trend continues into the other two sections. I think that Caddy is a kind of infamous character who is always talked about but never heard from. She is definitely one of, if not the only, main character. In Benjy’s section, she is the sweet, nurturing little girl with a small wild streak. In Quentin’s section, however, she is a girl with no regard for the rules of society and she gets pregnant out of wedlock.
A few times in Quentin’s section, he mentions that he has committed incest. It is not clear though if he and Caddy really had a sexual relationship or not. His passionate feelings for her may suggest that they have or could possibly just be an indication of his protectiveness over her. When they were kids, Quentin seemed dedicated to keeping Caddy out of trouble. For example, he urges her several times not to be inappropriate by removing her dress. He could be feeling this same anxiety towards whatever atrocity she has committed in their teenage years.
I hope to find out through the last two sections what exactly was torturing Quentin so much that he would go through with suicide. Hopefully Jason or Dilsey will have some insight into the events that took place between Caddy and Quentin.
Even though Quentin is not the one with a mental disability, his section was much harder for me to comprehend. His actions are fairly clear until he too starts having flashbacks. Unlike Benjy’s flashbacks, Quentin’s are not a vivid, re-living of the past. Instead they are mere memories fragmented and randomly occurring throughout the course of his day. Sometimes, Quentin will start remembering something, cut off in the middle, and resume again a few pages later. Perhaps Faulkner does this jumping around in Quentin’s section to signify the way human brains move erratically from one thought to another, especially under stress. The average human being has a very hard time dealing with intense emotions, as shown by Quentin’s resorting to suicide. Quentin’s obsession with the past has crippled him internally and his brain is scrambling to make sense of it all. It is very confusing to read the inner workings of a person’s mind, especially when they are so convoluted.
Quentin’s section stands out because it is almost eighteen years before any of the other four sections. The other three are all within a day of each other and make up the whole of Easter weekend. This kind of distinction in time must mean that Faulkner thought June 2nd, 1910 to be a very important day for the Compson family. Because Quentin’s section takes place on the day that he dies, it is his last opportunity to express any details that may provide greater insight into the lives of his family, mostly Caddy and Father.
Benjy’s and Quentin’s thoughts are both focused on Caddy, making her an important piece to the Compson puzzle. It will be interesting to see if this trend continues into the other two sections. I think that Caddy is a kind of infamous character who is always talked about but never heard from. She is definitely one of, if not the only, main character. In Benjy’s section, she is the sweet, nurturing little girl with a small wild streak. In Quentin’s section, however, she is a girl with no regard for the rules of society and she gets pregnant out of wedlock.
A few times in Quentin’s section, he mentions that he has committed incest. It is not clear though if he and Caddy really had a sexual relationship or not. His passionate feelings for her may suggest that they have or could possibly just be an indication of his protectiveness over her. When they were kids, Quentin seemed dedicated to keeping Caddy out of trouble. For example, he urges her several times not to be inappropriate by removing her dress. He could be feeling this same anxiety towards whatever atrocity she has committed in their teenage years.
I hope to find out through the last two sections what exactly was torturing Quentin so much that he would go through with suicide. Hopefully Jason or Dilsey will have some insight into the events that took place between Caddy and Quentin.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
548.
John Cheever’s “The Five-Forty-Eight” is a thrilling short story about love, heartache, and power wrapped into a narrative about catching a train home. Blake, an affluent businessman, is self-absorbed and oblivious to women’s feelings. He is consumed by outward appearances and external affairs, therefore leaving no room in his thought process for sympathy or compassion. Miss Dent, his “ex-secretary”, points out that Blake knows nothing at all about loving any person but himself. This is a story of realization not for the narrator but for Miss Dent, his seemingly psychopathic stalker.
At the beginning of the story, Cheever gives the reader the impression that Miss Dent is not a stable character. Immediately after Blake leaves work, she begins to follow him. Blake, though uncomfortable that he is being followed, does not seem concerned. In his mind he decides, “She was not clever. She would be easy to shake.” (4) After ducking into the men’s bar, his fear vanishes. He is no longer being pursued and he has regained control over the situation. Power to Blake is very comforting. His relationship with Miss Dent begins because he perceives her lonely, dark disposition. (6) She is not the only woman that he has pursued for this reason. In fact, “Most of the many women he had known had been picked for their lack of self-esteem.” (8) Blake exerts his power over Miss Dent by sleeping with her and then proceeding to fire her, doing both with a clear conscious. When Blake relates the tale of conquering Miss Dent, a whole new side of this seemingly “insignificant man” (4) is revealed.
With the progression of the story, Miss Dent denies Blake the power that he needs so fervently by seizing control of the situation. Once Blake is confined to his seat on the local train, he is obliged by Miss Dent’s pistol to hear her out. As the two passengers reach the stop for Shady Hill, Miss Dent gives Blake precise directions to follow. She then orders Blake to kneel down to a position of subservience and pushes his face into the dirt. Miss Dent does not need to shoot Blake as she threatened. Instead, she feels better just knowing that she put him in the same position of vulnerability in which he had once placed her. With a sense of relief, Miss Dent says, “Now I can wash my hands of you, I can wash my hands of all this, because you see there is some kindness, some saneness in me that I can find and use.” Herein lies her realization: no doctor or hospital could cure her; the only way to remedy her ailments was to confront the man who caused them. By not killing Blake, Miss Dent proved to be the stronger character of the two. She found the strength to walk away satisfied with herself and unconcerned with Blake. This surprise ending shows the complete role reversal that occurs between Blake and Miss Dent.
Reflecting back on “The Five-Forty-Eight”, it is clear that Blake and Miss Dent’s role reversals were not sudden, but rather consistent throughout the story. Blake describes Miss Dent as a woman with very few redeemable qualities. He makes her seem lonely, desperate, weak, and out of her mind. However, Blake is actually the more unredeemable character. He mistreats women and uses sex as a form of power. Blake is also a coward. He fires Miss Dent, refuses to take her phone calls, and runs from her in the streets instead of confronting her like the powerful man that he wishes to be. Blake is so self-obsessed that he doesn’t even consider the effect that his actions are having on other people. Nothing in his world is internalized; all he seems to think about are his rainy shoes or the posters outside the train windows. After sleeping with Miss Dent, Blake feels “too contented and warm and sleepy to worry much about her tears.” (8) Instead of comforting her, Blake preoccupies himself with the “hideously scrawled letters” (9) of her handwriting. Perhaps the best example of Blake’s oblivious existence is the last paragraph of the story. He has just been forced to the dirt, threatened at gunpoint, and then finally released. Where other people might then realize their shortcomings, Blake “got to his feet and picked up his hat from the ground where it had fallen and walked home.” (64)
Blake’s “lack of a revelation” is not important to Miss Dent’s recovery. She was once a woman who wrote, “Dear Husband…I dream about you every night. I have such terrible desires.” (49) By the end of the story, though, Blake could tell “she had forgotten him.” (64) Therapy is different for every individual. However, as this story points out, achieving redemption and healing begins by acknowledging the problem.
Discussion:
Did the ending surprise you? Was it different than you expected it to be?
What is the purpose of having Blake tell the story?
Although the author is male, can you pick out any feminist ideals in his writing?
Do you think Miss Dent’s psychotic tendencies stem from a real disease or from the way that Blake treats her?
What is the importance of Miss Dent’s letter to Blake? Do you think she wrote it recently or just after she slept with Blake?
[887]
At the beginning of the story, Cheever gives the reader the impression that Miss Dent is not a stable character. Immediately after Blake leaves work, she begins to follow him. Blake, though uncomfortable that he is being followed, does not seem concerned. In his mind he decides, “She was not clever. She would be easy to shake.” (4) After ducking into the men’s bar, his fear vanishes. He is no longer being pursued and he has regained control over the situation. Power to Blake is very comforting. His relationship with Miss Dent begins because he perceives her lonely, dark disposition. (6) She is not the only woman that he has pursued for this reason. In fact, “Most of the many women he had known had been picked for their lack of self-esteem.” (8) Blake exerts his power over Miss Dent by sleeping with her and then proceeding to fire her, doing both with a clear conscious. When Blake relates the tale of conquering Miss Dent, a whole new side of this seemingly “insignificant man” (4) is revealed.
With the progression of the story, Miss Dent denies Blake the power that he needs so fervently by seizing control of the situation. Once Blake is confined to his seat on the local train, he is obliged by Miss Dent’s pistol to hear her out. As the two passengers reach the stop for Shady Hill, Miss Dent gives Blake precise directions to follow. She then orders Blake to kneel down to a position of subservience and pushes his face into the dirt. Miss Dent does not need to shoot Blake as she threatened. Instead, she feels better just knowing that she put him in the same position of vulnerability in which he had once placed her. With a sense of relief, Miss Dent says, “Now I can wash my hands of you, I can wash my hands of all this, because you see there is some kindness, some saneness in me that I can find and use.” Herein lies her realization: no doctor or hospital could cure her; the only way to remedy her ailments was to confront the man who caused them. By not killing Blake, Miss Dent proved to be the stronger character of the two. She found the strength to walk away satisfied with herself and unconcerned with Blake. This surprise ending shows the complete role reversal that occurs between Blake and Miss Dent.
Reflecting back on “The Five-Forty-Eight”, it is clear that Blake and Miss Dent’s role reversals were not sudden, but rather consistent throughout the story. Blake describes Miss Dent as a woman with very few redeemable qualities. He makes her seem lonely, desperate, weak, and out of her mind. However, Blake is actually the more unredeemable character. He mistreats women and uses sex as a form of power. Blake is also a coward. He fires Miss Dent, refuses to take her phone calls, and runs from her in the streets instead of confronting her like the powerful man that he wishes to be. Blake is so self-obsessed that he doesn’t even consider the effect that his actions are having on other people. Nothing in his world is internalized; all he seems to think about are his rainy shoes or the posters outside the train windows. After sleeping with Miss Dent, Blake feels “too contented and warm and sleepy to worry much about her tears.” (8) Instead of comforting her, Blake preoccupies himself with the “hideously scrawled letters” (9) of her handwriting. Perhaps the best example of Blake’s oblivious existence is the last paragraph of the story. He has just been forced to the dirt, threatened at gunpoint, and then finally released. Where other people might then realize their shortcomings, Blake “got to his feet and picked up his hat from the ground where it had fallen and walked home.” (64)
Blake’s “lack of a revelation” is not important to Miss Dent’s recovery. She was once a woman who wrote, “Dear Husband…I dream about you every night. I have such terrible desires.” (49) By the end of the story, though, Blake could tell “she had forgotten him.” (64) Therapy is different for every individual. However, as this story points out, achieving redemption and healing begins by acknowledging the problem.
Discussion:
Did the ending surprise you? Was it different than you expected it to be?
What is the purpose of having Blake tell the story?
Although the author is male, can you pick out any feminist ideals in his writing?
Do you think Miss Dent’s psychotic tendencies stem from a real disease or from the way that Blake treats her?
What is the importance of Miss Dent’s letter to Blake? Do you think she wrote it recently or just after she slept with Blake?
[887]
Saturday, October 6, 2007
When I Grow Up, I Want To Be A....
Joyce Carol Oates' “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” is spooky, eerie, and all together uncomfortable to read. However, its theme is timeless and must not be avoided. Authors like Oates are important because they make readers face topics that they might otherwise be inclined to skim by.
Children are constantly trying to make themselves appear and sound older than they actually are. Girls as young as nine years old are shaving their legs, wearing belly shirts, and applying makeup. Boys no longer play with G.I. Joes and skip right to violent video games. In “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” Oates points out the dire consequences of forfeiting one’s childhood. A very unfortunate young girl named Connie gets sucked into a shallow existence. The only things she is preoccupied by are boys and her outward appearance.
Most children do not realize that the world can be very unsafe and scary. There are people who cannot be trusted and people who commit crimes. Because they do not have experience or knowledge, children are susceptible to believing almost anything that someone tells them. They also have a difficult time distinguishing bad people from good people, believing every adult to be as safe and secure as their parents are. Connie is able to act like an adult when life does not present her with any challenges, but has not been taught how to handle herself in difficult situations. It is evident that Connie is not as ready to grow up as she thinks when Arnold Friend emerges in the story.
Arnold Friend pretends to be a teenage boy to lull Connie into a false sense of security. He performs a good cop/bad cop show to make himself appear better than his comrade Ellie. He uses music he knows she likes to relate to her and a “sing-song” voice to coax her out of her home. He also dresses and speaks just like all the other normal teenage boys Connie has met, but exerts a control over her that she is not quite sure how to respond to. The strong, confident Connie withers away, leaving behind a shell of a young girl with no methods for disposing of her unwanted guest. Arnold Friend is obviously aware of her inability to resist his control. He needs no force to get Connie to succumb to his requests. His mental power over is so intense that she eventually walks into the arms of her rapist by her own free will.
Rape, a very obvious theme in the story, is a sad but evident truth in our world. The imagery in “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” is virulent and extreme. When Connie finally comes to the realization that she is in serious trouble, “she cried out, she cried for her mother, she felt her breath start jerking back and forth in her lungs as if it were something Arnold Friend was stabbing her with again and again with no tenderness.” This quote is a perfect example of the existence of sexual violence. It also refers to the point in the story where Connie tries to revert back to her childhood and escape. She does not like the lack of tenderness that she is experiencing. As children become adults, they often experience a similar situation. Young adults cling to their past because they do not like the reality and harshness of the real world. Unfortunately for Connie, Arnold Friend is her reality and it is too late for her to escape by wishing that she had listened to her mother more often.
[602]
*sorry this was late. my best friend's dad had heart surgery and i have been at the hospital all day. hope it's not a problem!*
Children are constantly trying to make themselves appear and sound older than they actually are. Girls as young as nine years old are shaving their legs, wearing belly shirts, and applying makeup. Boys no longer play with G.I. Joes and skip right to violent video games. In “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” Oates points out the dire consequences of forfeiting one’s childhood. A very unfortunate young girl named Connie gets sucked into a shallow existence. The only things she is preoccupied by are boys and her outward appearance.
Most children do not realize that the world can be very unsafe and scary. There are people who cannot be trusted and people who commit crimes. Because they do not have experience or knowledge, children are susceptible to believing almost anything that someone tells them. They also have a difficult time distinguishing bad people from good people, believing every adult to be as safe and secure as their parents are. Connie is able to act like an adult when life does not present her with any challenges, but has not been taught how to handle herself in difficult situations. It is evident that Connie is not as ready to grow up as she thinks when Arnold Friend emerges in the story.
Arnold Friend pretends to be a teenage boy to lull Connie into a false sense of security. He performs a good cop/bad cop show to make himself appear better than his comrade Ellie. He uses music he knows she likes to relate to her and a “sing-song” voice to coax her out of her home. He also dresses and speaks just like all the other normal teenage boys Connie has met, but exerts a control over her that she is not quite sure how to respond to. The strong, confident Connie withers away, leaving behind a shell of a young girl with no methods for disposing of her unwanted guest. Arnold Friend is obviously aware of her inability to resist his control. He needs no force to get Connie to succumb to his requests. His mental power over is so intense that she eventually walks into the arms of her rapist by her own free will.
Rape, a very obvious theme in the story, is a sad but evident truth in our world. The imagery in “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” is virulent and extreme. When Connie finally comes to the realization that she is in serious trouble, “she cried out, she cried for her mother, she felt her breath start jerking back and forth in her lungs as if it were something Arnold Friend was stabbing her with again and again with no tenderness.” This quote is a perfect example of the existence of sexual violence. It also refers to the point in the story where Connie tries to revert back to her childhood and escape. She does not like the lack of tenderness that she is experiencing. As children become adults, they often experience a similar situation. Young adults cling to their past because they do not like the reality and harshness of the real world. Unfortunately for Connie, Arnold Friend is her reality and it is too late for her to escape by wishing that she had listened to her mother more often.
[602]
*sorry this was late. my best friend's dad had heart surgery and i have been at the hospital all day. hope it's not a problem!*
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Multiple Meanings
It is amazing that while reading a short story, you can have absolutely no thoughts about it and then walk in to English class and discuss it until the bell rings. When I first read “Harrison Bergeron,” no profound questions or ideas came into my head. However, one other person’s comment can set you off on a train of thought that opens your eyes to a whole other meaning of the story. I had one of these revelations on Tuesday after discussing "Harrison Bergeron." Suddenly, an interesting short story turned into a deep, meaningful piece of literature.
At first, it appeared to be a satirical, sci-fi kind of story with a strange unexplained ending. But after the in-class discussion, I realized that the story isn’t random and futuristic. Kurt Vonnegut Jr.’s symbols are pre-meditated and universal. “Harrison Bergeron” can be a commentary on many different social and political plights. Vonnegut’s story is a timeless piece of writing because it has been applicable to society in all time periods since he wrote it in the 1960s.
The fact that it was written in the 1960s has a lot to do with the subject matter. The 1960s saw an end to a period in history, the Red Scare, which was filled with paranoia that Communism was going to spread and take over governments all over the world. This wide spread fear is most likely what led Vonnegut to satirize the Communist/ Socialist idea that every one in a population should be equal. In the story, the beautiful cover their faces, the strong weigh themselves down, and the intelligent cannot think without being interrupted by piercing noises. In effect, the government has handicapped every individual so as to make no one superior to anyone else. Knowing this first part of the plot line might convince a reader that this story is solely a criticism of Communism.
Later when the reader is introduced to Harrison Bergeron, the son of two faithfully handicapped parents, we realize that perhaps this story is a criticism of more than just one government and maybe all of them. Harrison Bergeron is seen as the rebel who cannot be contained by the equalizing regime. He grows stronger with every handicap they give him. His defiance of the government and continued resistance symbolizes the idea that a government can never suppress the freedom of the people if they want it badly enough. Harrison Bergeron represents the rise of democracy and freedom, but also the rise of hierarchy. When Harrison cries out, “I am the Emperor!” and “Everybody must do what I say at once!” (54), he is seizing power over a weaker population. This hierarchal unfairness is exactly what communism criticizes about democracy.
Vonnegut presents pitfalls in both of these kinds of societies to point out that no government can be perfect and all-inclusive. All systems come with a list of pros and cons. Regarding democracy and communism, there are choices to be made: hierarchy or equality, knowledge or blissful ignorance, society based on power or society based on threats?
Throughout life we make choices based on the good and bad of every situation. Because of this aspect of life, this story is really relatable and can be used to describe any number of situations. Although the tale of Harrison Bergeron has obvious correlations to government, it can also be symbolic of many different aspects of a society. [568]
At first, it appeared to be a satirical, sci-fi kind of story with a strange unexplained ending. But after the in-class discussion, I realized that the story isn’t random and futuristic. Kurt Vonnegut Jr.’s symbols are pre-meditated and universal. “Harrison Bergeron” can be a commentary on many different social and political plights. Vonnegut’s story is a timeless piece of writing because it has been applicable to society in all time periods since he wrote it in the 1960s.
The fact that it was written in the 1960s has a lot to do with the subject matter. The 1960s saw an end to a period in history, the Red Scare, which was filled with paranoia that Communism was going to spread and take over governments all over the world. This wide spread fear is most likely what led Vonnegut to satirize the Communist/ Socialist idea that every one in a population should be equal. In the story, the beautiful cover their faces, the strong weigh themselves down, and the intelligent cannot think without being interrupted by piercing noises. In effect, the government has handicapped every individual so as to make no one superior to anyone else. Knowing this first part of the plot line might convince a reader that this story is solely a criticism of Communism.
Later when the reader is introduced to Harrison Bergeron, the son of two faithfully handicapped parents, we realize that perhaps this story is a criticism of more than just one government and maybe all of them. Harrison Bergeron is seen as the rebel who cannot be contained by the equalizing regime. He grows stronger with every handicap they give him. His defiance of the government and continued resistance symbolizes the idea that a government can never suppress the freedom of the people if they want it badly enough. Harrison Bergeron represents the rise of democracy and freedom, but also the rise of hierarchy. When Harrison cries out, “I am the Emperor!” and “Everybody must do what I say at once!” (54), he is seizing power over a weaker population. This hierarchal unfairness is exactly what communism criticizes about democracy.
Vonnegut presents pitfalls in both of these kinds of societies to point out that no government can be perfect and all-inclusive. All systems come with a list of pros and cons. Regarding democracy and communism, there are choices to be made: hierarchy or equality, knowledge or blissful ignorance, society based on power or society based on threats?
Throughout life we make choices based on the good and bad of every situation. Because of this aspect of life, this story is really relatable and can be used to describe any number of situations. Although the tale of Harrison Bergeron has obvious correlations to government, it can also be symbolic of many different aspects of a society. [568]
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Alanis might say it's like rain on your wedding day.
In every group of short stories, there is always one that strikes me imediately. There is also always one author that amazes me with his or her prowess and ability to tackle important concepts. Recently, Flannery O'Connor accomplished this in my mind. Her use of irony in "A Good Man is Hard to Find" inspired me to write this blog. Not only did she make good use of irony in her story, but the humerous technique served a dual purpose. The imminent and ironic fate of the grandmother as well as the ironic, even hypocritical, nature of religion made a great page-turner.
The irony in the plot is quite obvious. The grandmother, who tries to deter her son from going to Florida, tells Bailey about the Misfit, a criminal on the loose in the South. When she fails to convince her son to vacation in Tennessee instead, Grandma is the first in the car in the morning. As their journey progresses, Grandma refuses to let her vivid plantation memories fade away. She lies to her grandchildren and coaxes her son down a dirt path to find an old plantation that has sentimental value to her. The cat from Grandma's lap--one she wasn't supposed to bring in the first place--leaps from its resting place onto Bailey's shoulder. Unfortunately for this family, Bailey cannot control the steering wheel with a vicious cat strapped to his neck and rolls the car. So far, Grandma is responsible for placing the family on the dirt road towards the plantation and also for the car crash. To make the situation even better, O'Connor shows Grandma recalling that the plantation she is remembering is actually located in Tennessee. Without skipping a beat, Grandma flags down a hearse-like car to help the family. Finally, she does something right. But, wait, in a perfect moment of realization, Grandma squeals, "You're The Misfit! I recognized you at once!" (83) In a perfect world, criminals might enjoy being revealed, but this is Flannery's world and the Misfit doesn't much appreciate the attention. As her family gets killed off two by two, Grandma is left reflecting on her pitiful life, knowing inside that she is the cause of extreme pain and hardship.
In her last moments of life, Grandma makes a sincere regression to innoncence and acceptance of Christ. Her selflessness is out of character when she knows she must forgive the Misfit for all of his sins. She dies in a child-like pose, smiling up at the sky, leaving the reader to feel that her last minute repentence has been rewarded with a ticket to the pearly gates. Thus presents one of the greatest ironies of religion. There are devout Christians that honor the grace of past-child molesters, rapists, and murderers such as the Misfit because after their deeds were done, they asked God for forgiveness and repented their sins. Despite what you may think, this isn't a limited-time offer. Saving grace is available by the bushel. Our Lord and Savior is ever-forgiving. It seems odd...or maybe I'm just being cynical. Could it really be that easy? They do say that it is always easier to beg forgiveness than it is to beg permission.
Whether Flannery O'Connor is satarizing Christianity or recommending repentence as an end all be all solution is hard to determine. However, her lack of definitive opinion in this area opens her stories up for many heated discussions and debates. Stories like "Revelation" and "A Good Man is Hard to Find" are the most interesting perhaps because they are open to multiple interpretations, none of which could ever be proven true. [605]
The irony in the plot is quite obvious. The grandmother, who tries to deter her son from going to Florida, tells Bailey about the Misfit, a criminal on the loose in the South. When she fails to convince her son to vacation in Tennessee instead, Grandma is the first in the car in the morning. As their journey progresses, Grandma refuses to let her vivid plantation memories fade away. She lies to her grandchildren and coaxes her son down a dirt path to find an old plantation that has sentimental value to her. The cat from Grandma's lap--one she wasn't supposed to bring in the first place--leaps from its resting place onto Bailey's shoulder. Unfortunately for this family, Bailey cannot control the steering wheel with a vicious cat strapped to his neck and rolls the car. So far, Grandma is responsible for placing the family on the dirt road towards the plantation and also for the car crash. To make the situation even better, O'Connor shows Grandma recalling that the plantation she is remembering is actually located in Tennessee. Without skipping a beat, Grandma flags down a hearse-like car to help the family. Finally, she does something right. But, wait, in a perfect moment of realization, Grandma squeals, "You're The Misfit! I recognized you at once!" (83) In a perfect world, criminals might enjoy being revealed, but this is Flannery's world and the Misfit doesn't much appreciate the attention. As her family gets killed off two by two, Grandma is left reflecting on her pitiful life, knowing inside that she is the cause of extreme pain and hardship.
In her last moments of life, Grandma makes a sincere regression to innoncence and acceptance of Christ. Her selflessness is out of character when she knows she must forgive the Misfit for all of his sins. She dies in a child-like pose, smiling up at the sky, leaving the reader to feel that her last minute repentence has been rewarded with a ticket to the pearly gates. Thus presents one of the greatest ironies of religion. There are devout Christians that honor the grace of past-child molesters, rapists, and murderers such as the Misfit because after their deeds were done, they asked God for forgiveness and repented their sins. Despite what you may think, this isn't a limited-time offer. Saving grace is available by the bushel. Our Lord and Savior is ever-forgiving. It seems odd...or maybe I'm just being cynical. Could it really be that easy? They do say that it is always easier to beg forgiveness than it is to beg permission.
Whether Flannery O'Connor is satarizing Christianity or recommending repentence as an end all be all solution is hard to determine. However, her lack of definitive opinion in this area opens her stories up for many heated discussions and debates. Stories like "Revelation" and "A Good Man is Hard to Find" are the most interesting perhaps because they are open to multiple interpretations, none of which could ever be proven true. [605]
Friday, September 14, 2007
Interpreter of Lahiri
Of all of the short stories our class has read this week, “Interpreter of Maladies” was the only one that struck me with so many feelings and insights upon finishing it. I enjoyed reading this story greatly because the author Jhumpa Lahiri weaved into the story her opinions on many different topics such as diversity, immigration, and the difficulty of understanding one another.
Lahiri is a well-known adversary of immigration and the loss of culture. In “Interpreter of Maladies,” she satirizes the Das family for being a now-tourist family in their long-forgotten homeland. She puts their matching shiny visors and tee shirts on display for the reader so as to stereotype the typical tourist. On top of his ensemble, Mr. Das is also sporting a camera around his neck and burying his nose in an Indian guidebook. Lahiri even goes so far as to say that the camera is the “only complicated thing he wore.” (5) I also thought it was interesting—and gave more emphasis to Lahiri’s view of tourism—that the only other characters that the family encounters at their second site for the day happen to be two Japanese tourists snapping photos (125)—a very stereotypical image. The Das family really has no connection with their past or their culture. Therefore Mr. Das is shown taking pictures of an emaciated man instead of helping him, Mrs. Das is snapping her gum and responding only with “Neat” to everything she observes, and the children are more intrigued by the monkeys than by the temple.
Mr. Kapasi, the Das family’s tour guide, has extensive training in language interpretation and yet still cannot seem to understand the true motives or character of Mrs. Das. Because Mr. Kapasi is the narrator and the reader only hears what is in his mind, a sense of uncertainty emerges. How is the reader to know if Mr. Kapasi is understanding what Mrs. Das is saying in the same way that she means it? We cannot be sure if her calling his second profession “romantic” (61) is flirtation and affection or simply the curiosity to know if he is qualified to fix her emotional issues. On the flip side, Mrs. Das misunderstands Mr. Kapasi’s explanation of his job and seems to think that he will be able to fix her problems with adultery and disinterest. She confides in Mr. Kapasi, not because she wants to make him feel special, but instead because she wants some kind of validation. Throughout the story, it seems as if Mr. Kapasi and Mrs. Das’ relationship is based on misunderstanding after another. Lahiri seems to blame this conflict on their cultural differences. Perhaps, Kapasi and Das need their own interpreter.
One aspect of this short story that amused me was the fact that although the Das family seems to be devoid of all cultural awareness, there are some underlying facets of their life that make them resemble Mr. Kapasi and other natives more than they realize. For instance, Mr. and Mrs. Das were not arranged into a marriage like Mr. Kapasi and his wife were—as is tradition in most Indian cultures. However, the young Mr. and Mrs. Das “couldn’t stand the thought of being separated,” (141) got engaged in high school, and were married when they went to college. After being married, they almost immediately had three children and there began what would be their loveless marriage. Much like Mr. and Mrs. Das, Mr. Kapashi’s marriage fell apart before it really began. After the death of his son, his wife seemed no longer to care about anything, not even about his passion for interpreting. Mr. Kapashi even says that he has “never seen his own wife fully naked.” (99) Though the Das family is American to the core—shown by their choice of names for their kids: Ronny, Bobby, Tina—and Mr. Kapashi is enveloped by his culture as a tour guide, there are some qualities that never fail to transcend geographical and cultural boundaries.
Overall I don’t think Lahiri could have made any more-powerful statements about a number of universal truths. “Interpreter of Maladies” is not only entertaining and intriguing, it is also a piece of literature that compels its reader to think. [702]
Lahiri is a well-known adversary of immigration and the loss of culture. In “Interpreter of Maladies,” she satirizes the Das family for being a now-tourist family in their long-forgotten homeland. She puts their matching shiny visors and tee shirts on display for the reader so as to stereotype the typical tourist. On top of his ensemble, Mr. Das is also sporting a camera around his neck and burying his nose in an Indian guidebook. Lahiri even goes so far as to say that the camera is the “only complicated thing he wore.” (5) I also thought it was interesting—and gave more emphasis to Lahiri’s view of tourism—that the only other characters that the family encounters at their second site for the day happen to be two Japanese tourists snapping photos (125)—a very stereotypical image. The Das family really has no connection with their past or their culture. Therefore Mr. Das is shown taking pictures of an emaciated man instead of helping him, Mrs. Das is snapping her gum and responding only with “Neat” to everything she observes, and the children are more intrigued by the monkeys than by the temple.
Mr. Kapasi, the Das family’s tour guide, has extensive training in language interpretation and yet still cannot seem to understand the true motives or character of Mrs. Das. Because Mr. Kapasi is the narrator and the reader only hears what is in his mind, a sense of uncertainty emerges. How is the reader to know if Mr. Kapasi is understanding what Mrs. Das is saying in the same way that she means it? We cannot be sure if her calling his second profession “romantic” (61) is flirtation and affection or simply the curiosity to know if he is qualified to fix her emotional issues. On the flip side, Mrs. Das misunderstands Mr. Kapasi’s explanation of his job and seems to think that he will be able to fix her problems with adultery and disinterest. She confides in Mr. Kapasi, not because she wants to make him feel special, but instead because she wants some kind of validation. Throughout the story, it seems as if Mr. Kapasi and Mrs. Das’ relationship is based on misunderstanding after another. Lahiri seems to blame this conflict on their cultural differences. Perhaps, Kapasi and Das need their own interpreter.
One aspect of this short story that amused me was the fact that although the Das family seems to be devoid of all cultural awareness, there are some underlying facets of their life that make them resemble Mr. Kapasi and other natives more than they realize. For instance, Mr. and Mrs. Das were not arranged into a marriage like Mr. Kapasi and his wife were—as is tradition in most Indian cultures. However, the young Mr. and Mrs. Das “couldn’t stand the thought of being separated,” (141) got engaged in high school, and were married when they went to college. After being married, they almost immediately had three children and there began what would be their loveless marriage. Much like Mr. and Mrs. Das, Mr. Kapashi’s marriage fell apart before it really began. After the death of his son, his wife seemed no longer to care about anything, not even about his passion for interpreting. Mr. Kapashi even says that he has “never seen his own wife fully naked.” (99) Though the Das family is American to the core—shown by their choice of names for their kids: Ronny, Bobby, Tina—and Mr. Kapashi is enveloped by his culture as a tour guide, there are some qualities that never fail to transcend geographical and cultural boundaries.
Overall I don’t think Lahiri could have made any more-powerful statements about a number of universal truths. “Interpreter of Maladies” is not only entertaining and intriguing, it is also a piece of literature that compels its reader to think. [702]
Friday, August 31, 2007
Isn't She Lovely
The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold is an overwhelmingly powerful novel. The subject matter—consisting of rape, death, and grief—alone is emotional and heart wrenching. The realism of her characters’ sense of humanity only adds to the drama of the literature. Suzie Salmon, a young girl who is murdered in the beginning of the story, tells the story of her family while looking down on them from her heaven. By removing Suzie from the plotline of her family, Sebold creates a perfect way for her reader to get inside the minds of Suzie’s family.
After suffering the loss of a loved one, any human is susceptible to going through all of the stages of grief: denial, anger, sadness, aloofness, and desperation. Sebold includes all of these human reactions in the recovery of her characters. Almost every character has a specific way of coping with Suzie’s death, some very different from others—just like in real life. For example, Suzie’s father Jack clings to the idea that she is still alive for as long as a lack of evidence can permit. Once acknowledging her death, he weeps and smashes the products of his and Suzie’s hobby—building ships within bottles. From heaven Suzie watches and says, “I watched him as he smashed the rest. He christened the walls and wooden chair with the news of my death…” Immediately after demolishing the reminders of his dead daughter, Jack Salmon falls into a fit of sobbing, so weakened that he can’t even conceal his anguish from his very young son, Buckley. Sebold portrays in Jack anger, sadness, and denial. Scenes like the boat-smashing one are present throughout the course of The Lovely Bones and are so realistic that they compel the reader to cry along.
Unlike her father, Suzie’s sister Lindsey copes with her loss in a very different way. Lindsey emotionally shuts down and physically distances herself from others. Upon returning to school, Lindsey withdraws into her own mind even more when a concerned faculty member tries to address the issue. Sebold gives a perfect example of Lindsey’s shutting others out with her and Mr. Caden’s conversation. Mr. Caden asks Lindsey if she would like to “talk about it.” When Lindsey replies, “What?” he answers with, “Your loss.” After hearing this, Lindsey, cold and blank, says only, “I wasn’t aware I had lost anything.” Sebold mastered the art of bringing tension to life with this scene. Every description of Lindsey’s body language, speech, or habits evokes this same awkward avoidance of the reality of her pain. For many human beings, this is a necessary step in the route to recovery.
Along with the humane and natural, there is the inhumane and the disturbing. Unlike either her daughter or her husband, Suzie’s mother Abigail chooses a path of recovery that to most readers is as shocking and horrendous as George Harvey’s twisted murders. Upon losing her daughter, Abigail Salmon also causes her other two children to lose a mother. She abandons her family for an affair, some plans to escape, and job at a vineyard. By showing a human’s capabilities for such selfishness in others’ time of need, Sebold nicely contrasts both the goodness and indecency that tragedy can bring out in people. Sebold so completely humanizes her characters that the reader can actually feel what they feel and experience their hardships. (557)
After suffering the loss of a loved one, any human is susceptible to going through all of the stages of grief: denial, anger, sadness, aloofness, and desperation. Sebold includes all of these human reactions in the recovery of her characters. Almost every character has a specific way of coping with Suzie’s death, some very different from others—just like in real life. For example, Suzie’s father Jack clings to the idea that she is still alive for as long as a lack of evidence can permit. Once acknowledging her death, he weeps and smashes the products of his and Suzie’s hobby—building ships within bottles. From heaven Suzie watches and says, “I watched him as he smashed the rest. He christened the walls and wooden chair with the news of my death…” Immediately after demolishing the reminders of his dead daughter, Jack Salmon falls into a fit of sobbing, so weakened that he can’t even conceal his anguish from his very young son, Buckley. Sebold portrays in Jack anger, sadness, and denial. Scenes like the boat-smashing one are present throughout the course of The Lovely Bones and are so realistic that they compel the reader to cry along.
Unlike her father, Suzie’s sister Lindsey copes with her loss in a very different way. Lindsey emotionally shuts down and physically distances herself from others. Upon returning to school, Lindsey withdraws into her own mind even more when a concerned faculty member tries to address the issue. Sebold gives a perfect example of Lindsey’s shutting others out with her and Mr. Caden’s conversation. Mr. Caden asks Lindsey if she would like to “talk about it.” When Lindsey replies, “What?” he answers with, “Your loss.” After hearing this, Lindsey, cold and blank, says only, “I wasn’t aware I had lost anything.” Sebold mastered the art of bringing tension to life with this scene. Every description of Lindsey’s body language, speech, or habits evokes this same awkward avoidance of the reality of her pain. For many human beings, this is a necessary step in the route to recovery.
Along with the humane and natural, there is the inhumane and the disturbing. Unlike either her daughter or her husband, Suzie’s mother Abigail chooses a path of recovery that to most readers is as shocking and horrendous as George Harvey’s twisted murders. Upon losing her daughter, Abigail Salmon also causes her other two children to lose a mother. She abandons her family for an affair, some plans to escape, and job at a vineyard. By showing a human’s capabilities for such selfishness in others’ time of need, Sebold nicely contrasts both the goodness and indecency that tragedy can bring out in people. Sebold so completely humanizes her characters that the reader can actually feel what they feel and experience their hardships. (557)
Monday, August 27, 2007
ABC's :]
To Mr. Coon,
I was born with fondness for reading. My mom encouraged me to read whatever and whenever I could throughout my youth. Therefore, I developed the ability to read quickly but thoroughly early in life. Upon entering my teenage years, school became more demanding and pleasure reading took a back seat to my participation in both social and athletic activities. Although I do not read as much as I should or would like to, I enjoy every page of the novels that I can find time to read. My favorite genre is historical fiction. Authors of historical fiction novels give personalities to well-known figures in history and thereby bring them to life. The information presented in a historical novel is much more fun to read and much easier to absorb than the information found in strictly factual history textbooks. I like reading because it is easy to get lost in the world you are reading about. I often find myself so far immersed in a story that I cry, laugh, and relate with the narrator. Since I am so busy during the school year, summer is really my only opportunity to discover new authors and read their works.
Unlike reading, which came so naturally to me, writing has always been a struggle. I never seem to be able to get my thoughts on paper. One word in a sentence that doesn’t quite feel write could plague me for hours and detain me from moving on with my thought process. I also have a hard time knowing what to look for when I do research and I begin papers without a concise idea of where it is headed. My topic sentences are generally weak and I have trouble focusing the body of the paragraph around them. I feel as though I have only ever written two papers that I am actually proud of. One was a “Describe Your Bedroom” paper for Dr. Allison and the other was a “Describe a Person” paper for Miss Garagiola. Obviously description is my most-favored writing style. Though writing is most definitely my biggest academic weakness, I look forward to developing and honing my skills in your AP class.
Your student,
Chelsea Robbins
[370]
I was born with fondness for reading. My mom encouraged me to read whatever and whenever I could throughout my youth. Therefore, I developed the ability to read quickly but thoroughly early in life. Upon entering my teenage years, school became more demanding and pleasure reading took a back seat to my participation in both social and athletic activities. Although I do not read as much as I should or would like to, I enjoy every page of the novels that I can find time to read. My favorite genre is historical fiction. Authors of historical fiction novels give personalities to well-known figures in history and thereby bring them to life. The information presented in a historical novel is much more fun to read and much easier to absorb than the information found in strictly factual history textbooks. I like reading because it is easy to get lost in the world you are reading about. I often find myself so far immersed in a story that I cry, laugh, and relate with the narrator. Since I am so busy during the school year, summer is really my only opportunity to discover new authors and read their works.
Unlike reading, which came so naturally to me, writing has always been a struggle. I never seem to be able to get my thoughts on paper. One word in a sentence that doesn’t quite feel write could plague me for hours and detain me from moving on with my thought process. I also have a hard time knowing what to look for when I do research and I begin papers without a concise idea of where it is headed. My topic sentences are generally weak and I have trouble focusing the body of the paragraph around them. I feel as though I have only ever written two papers that I am actually proud of. One was a “Describe Your Bedroom” paper for Dr. Allison and the other was a “Describe a Person” paper for Miss Garagiola. Obviously description is my most-favored writing style. Though writing is most definitely my biggest academic weakness, I look forward to developing and honing my skills in your AP class.
Your student,
Chelsea Robbins
[370]
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