This is a story of two neighbors who lived in a forest before it became New York City. Their names were Desmond the Eagle and Alex the Raven. Desmond lived in a nest nestled in the high branches of a great sycamore tree, while Alex lived in a smaller, neighboring cypress tree.
Desmond was a very nice avian, considering he was a bird of prey. He always made sure he killed his prey quickly, and he always tried to hunt only elderly prey and never young animals. Alex, on the other hand, always waited lazily for another animal to kill its prey, then ate the remainders and didn't even share with his fellow scavengers.
One day, a bird fell from the sky in front of Alex's and Desmond's trees. Her name was Lucy the Kite. Both Desmond and Alex saw her from their homes in the trees.
"Autumn is coming. If she is not healthy by winter, she will surely starve," Desmond said to himself.
"Stupid bird. Should have been more careful! I would never share my food with such an idiotic bird," Alex thought.
While Alex turned his back on the scene, Desmond swooped down to help the little kite. He brought her back to his nest, where he spent most of his waking hours nursing her wing back to health. He even hunted different kinds of prey that she liked, even though most of them were too small for him. Alex continued on being his usual unaltruistic self.
By the end of autumn, Lucy was healthy once more, but winter struck the forest hard. Along with it, a sickness hit the citizens of the wood, including both Desmond and Alex. Lucy, who hadn't gotten sick and who was grateful that Desmond had saved her life, took care of him all throughout the winter. Alex, however, had no friends because of his rude manners and inhospitable nature, and the cruel winter took his life because of it.
(FIN.)
8.27.2010
Journal # 1 - Native Americans PWN You!
Native American cultures are extremely diverse due to their isolation from each other and lack of total unity between tribes. Most, however, show similar themes. Native American cultures, generally, are very nature-based in their traditions and religions. They tend to believe in spirits of nature, and in some cases gods who control their lives. Blessings from certain gods would bring different consequences. In some cultures, the sacrifices were mundane, such as a part of the harvest or game, but in others, the sacrifices could be human ones.
In a lot of the cultures, sharing was an important part of the community. In many Eastern Woodland Native American groups, the idea of personal property was something brought over by the Europeans and a foreign idea. Houses, food, and possessions were all in common with the entire tribe. For a modern example, if you wanted to borrow your neighbor's dress for homecoming, you could do it and there would be no fuss about it because she would know that she could borrow anything of yours whenever she wanted. It was a much nicer system than the capitalist one we have right now.
Also, in some communities, the societies were matriarchal, where the women were in power. This was not true for all communities, but it certainly was a new concept for arriving Europeans in the 16th century. For example, in Iroquois society, women could hold property, divorce their husbands, and choose the men who would be "elected" to powerful positions. It was like the feminist movements' consequences hundreds of years later.
Some Indian societies grew to large sizes, too. A few communities even rivaled or surpassed cities and towns found in Europe at the time (granted there was widespread plague, but still). For being the "savages" the Europeans called them, the Indians were quite advanced. The Southwestern communities built sophisticated irrigation ditches in order to farm and constructed highways by which to reach other tribes. In Cahokia, gigantic burial mounds were constructed that still stand today, and in Latin America, they built floating gardens in the city of Tenochtitlan.
In addition to all this, there was the fact of their communication. Stories were passed down orally, and not many tribes had written languages (though one in South America came up with a communication system based on knot-tying!). In short, the Native Americans were a lot cooler than the Europeans gave them credit for.
In a lot of the cultures, sharing was an important part of the community. In many Eastern Woodland Native American groups, the idea of personal property was something brought over by the Europeans and a foreign idea. Houses, food, and possessions were all in common with the entire tribe. For a modern example, if you wanted to borrow your neighbor's dress for homecoming, you could do it and there would be no fuss about it because she would know that she could borrow anything of yours whenever she wanted. It was a much nicer system than the capitalist one we have right now.
Also, in some communities, the societies were matriarchal, where the women were in power. This was not true for all communities, but it certainly was a new concept for arriving Europeans in the 16th century. For example, in Iroquois society, women could hold property, divorce their husbands, and choose the men who would be "elected" to powerful positions. It was like the feminist movements' consequences hundreds of years later.
Some Indian societies grew to large sizes, too. A few communities even rivaled or surpassed cities and towns found in Europe at the time (granted there was widespread plague, but still). For being the "savages" the Europeans called them, the Indians were quite advanced. The Southwestern communities built sophisticated irrigation ditches in order to farm and constructed highways by which to reach other tribes. In Cahokia, gigantic burial mounds were constructed that still stand today, and in Latin America, they built floating gardens in the city of Tenochtitlan.
In addition to all this, there was the fact of their communication. Stories were passed down orally, and not many tribes had written languages (though one in South America came up with a communication system based on knot-tying!). In short, the Native Americans were a lot cooler than the Europeans gave them credit for.
Symbolism (GASP)
Symbolism was very prevelant in all three of the books that I read this summer (The Grapes of Wrath, The Old Man and the Sea, and Fahrenheit 451). Symbolism is one of my favorite things about reading intelligent fiction because it gives much more meaning to the story than the dialogue and actions of the characters ever could. When symbolism is there, the characters are more than just characters; they start to represent abstract ideas much larger than any individual. Finding the hidden symbolisms of books is always fun, too. That is why it is one of my favorite literary devices.
One of my favorite symbols out of all three books that I read was that of the turtle from Chapter 3 of The Grapes of Wrath. It is not an obvious symbol the first time through the book, but on the second time, it cannot go unnoticed. It was such a perfect symbol for Tom Joad's journey throughout the rest of the book that I even did an entire blog post about it. I could probably write an entire paper on that one little chapter; that is how good of a symbol I thought it was. The fact that it also foreshadowed what was coming up was also a great factor in its amazingness.
That would be my opinion on how amazing symbolism is. It adds depth to stories, and it gives extra meaning to the little things that happen within the story. Symbolism is just one big epic package of greatness.
One of my favorite symbols out of all three books that I read was that of the turtle from Chapter 3 of The Grapes of Wrath. It is not an obvious symbol the first time through the book, but on the second time, it cannot go unnoticed. It was such a perfect symbol for Tom Joad's journey throughout the rest of the book that I even did an entire blog post about it. I could probably write an entire paper on that one little chapter; that is how good of a symbol I thought it was. The fact that it also foreshadowed what was coming up was also a great factor in its amazingness.
That would be my opinion on how amazing symbolism is. It adds depth to stories, and it gives extra meaning to the little things that happen within the story. Symbolism is just one big epic package of greatness.
8.22.2010
Oh, Mildred
Oh, Mildred. You're so annoying.
So mini section four introduces us to Montag's lovely (insert sarcasm here) wife, Mildred. She doesn't talk at all in this section (we don't even get to see her awake), but the consequences of her actions that happened unseen to the reader and Guy's own thoughts on her can shed some light as to what she is like, even without any immediate dialogue or events.
First off, Montag mentions that she is constantly listening to these ear bud-like radios called Seashells. This leads me to believe that she doesn't really love or care about her husband because she would rather listen to the radio than him. Another supporting factor for this point is the fact that they have two separate beds, rather than one big bed. The feelings could also be the same for Guy because when he imagines what the bedroom looks like upon walking into the darkness, he describes his wife as "...stretched out on the bed, uncovered and cold, like a body displayed on the lid of a tomb..." This also insinuates that she is cold and uncovered in her unloving feelings towards him.
Another thing that tells us more about Mildred is what she has done by the time Montag gets home. Guy is horrified to discover that she had taken an entire bottle of pills, thirty in all. Obviously, Mildred isn't happy with her life. It also shows that she is selfish for wanting to take her own life, and foolish for thinking death would solve her problems.
I really, really don't like Mildred. She's my least favorite character in this book, the polar opposite of Clarisse. She's so stupid and brainwashed that it makes me want to claw my eyes out, and then there's the fact that most of the people of this society are just life her. That alone would make me want to live on Mars, despite the lack of breathable air and atmosphere. Mildread is just really, really annoying. Enough said.
So mini section four introduces us to Montag's lovely (insert sarcasm here) wife, Mildred. She doesn't talk at all in this section (we don't even get to see her awake), but the consequences of her actions that happened unseen to the reader and Guy's own thoughts on her can shed some light as to what she is like, even without any immediate dialogue or events.
First off, Montag mentions that she is constantly listening to these ear bud-like radios called Seashells. This leads me to believe that she doesn't really love or care about her husband because she would rather listen to the radio than him. Another supporting factor for this point is the fact that they have two separate beds, rather than one big bed. The feelings could also be the same for Guy because when he imagines what the bedroom looks like upon walking into the darkness, he describes his wife as "...stretched out on the bed, uncovered and cold, like a body displayed on the lid of a tomb..." This also insinuates that she is cold and uncovered in her unloving feelings towards him.
Another thing that tells us more about Mildred is what she has done by the time Montag gets home. Guy is horrified to discover that she had taken an entire bottle of pills, thirty in all. Obviously, Mildred isn't happy with her life. It also shows that she is selfish for wanting to take her own life, and foolish for thinking death would solve her problems.
I really, really don't like Mildred. She's my least favorite character in this book, the polar opposite of Clarisse. She's so stupid and brainwashed that it makes me want to claw my eyes out, and then there's the fact that most of the people of this society are just life her. That alone would make me want to live on Mars, despite the lack of breathable air and atmosphere. Mildread is just really, really annoying. Enough said.
The Foreshadowing Came Back! - Fahrenheit 451
The foreshadowing came back!
This third mini section was also a good one (this entire book was good, so I may say that a lot). In it, Guy Montag, our protagonist, has an identity crisis that somehow makes me as a reader happy. Again, something of his character is revealed, and as you may have guessed, there is foreshadowing.
After his strange conversation with Clarisse McClellan, his odd teenaged neighbor who smells things, Guy walks into his home pondering the last question she asked him, which was if he was happy. Guy thinks to himself that, of course he is happy, and is laughing, but when he questions his happiness, his laughter stops and he thinks. Something behind the ventilation grill makes him uneasy and shuts off his thoughts of happiness, and this something gets explained later (I'll be nice and not ruin it for now). But it is foreshadowing, and it makes me happy.
Guy continues to think about his conversation with Clarisse, comparing it to one he had with an old man in the park about a year ago. This also turns out to be foreshadowing (two foreshadows in a row!), and it is also explained more later on in the book. Again, I won't ruin anything. He continues to think about her and her face, comparing it to the hand of a clock that tells you about the night but also promises the dawn eventually. This foreshadows the progression of Guy's character later on in the book because of Clarisse and her strange ways.
Here, Guy experiences an identity crisis, where one half of him starts to think again, while the other half tells him to be normal and shut up like everyone else. Then he thinks more about Clarisse, whom he compares now to a mirror, causing him to look his own confusing thoughts straight in the eye. He juxtaposes other people with torches, burning brightly until they snuff themselves out. He recognizes Clarisse's observant nature and realizes that he feels like he has known her a long time when they only talked for a few minutes. He is completely in awe of her as he makes his way to his bedroom.
This third mini section was also a good one (this entire book was good, so I may say that a lot). In it, Guy Montag, our protagonist, has an identity crisis that somehow makes me as a reader happy. Again, something of his character is revealed, and as you may have guessed, there is foreshadowing.
After his strange conversation with Clarisse McClellan, his odd teenaged neighbor who smells things, Guy walks into his home pondering the last question she asked him, which was if he was happy. Guy thinks to himself that, of course he is happy, and is laughing, but when he questions his happiness, his laughter stops and he thinks. Something behind the ventilation grill makes him uneasy and shuts off his thoughts of happiness, and this something gets explained later (I'll be nice and not ruin it for now). But it is foreshadowing, and it makes me happy.
Guy continues to think about his conversation with Clarisse, comparing it to one he had with an old man in the park about a year ago. This also turns out to be foreshadowing (two foreshadows in a row!), and it is also explained more later on in the book. Again, I won't ruin anything. He continues to think about her and her face, comparing it to the hand of a clock that tells you about the night but also promises the dawn eventually. This foreshadows the progression of Guy's character later on in the book because of Clarisse and her strange ways.
Here, Guy experiences an identity crisis, where one half of him starts to think again, while the other half tells him to be normal and shut up like everyone else. Then he thinks more about Clarisse, whom he compares now to a mirror, causing him to look his own confusing thoughts straight in the eye. He juxtaposes other people with torches, burning brightly until they snuff themselves out. He recognizes Clarisse's observant nature and realizes that he feels like he has known her a long time when they only talked for a few minutes. He is completely in awe of her as he makes his way to his bedroom.
Summary - Mini Section 2 - Fahrenheit 451
Montag's true character is revealed a bit in this second mini section of The Hearth and the Salamander. As is common with good authors, Bradbury uses another character and a conversation to show Montag's true colors. In this case, the character is a strange girl named Clarisse McClellan who likes to smell things and walk around. For more about my opinion of Clarisse, see the post before this one.
The eye-opening conversation between these two characters starts as Montag is walking home from work, whistling to himself and being generally cheery. As he approaches a corner on his homeward route, he gets the sneaking suspicion that someone is either watching him, was just there, or both. He turns the corner, and he finds that Clarisse is standing right there.
She proceeds to start studying him as they walk to their houses together, talking about strange things like how he smells of kerosene and asking him if he ever reads the books he burns. Remarks from her follow seemingly average things Guy does or says, such as when he laughs and she asks him why laughed instead of actually thinking about what she said.
Eventually, they reach Clarisse's house, which is right across the road from Montag's house. He is puzzled by the fact that the lights of Clarisse's house are all on this late at night, and they hear her family talking together and laughing. He asks what they could possibly be talking about when they talk for so long, and Clarisse laughs and asks him if he is happy. Naturally, he answers yes, but before he can ask her why she asked him, she is laughing and running into her house, leaving Montag with his thoughts.
This is one of my favorite parts of the book, partly because Clarisse is introduced in it, but also because Montag's character is developed. The first few paragraphs of the book make him seem scary and mean, but his conversation with Clarisse throws a different light on him. It suggests that he is more than just a man who burns books, that he actually may think and like to think. He just doesn't because no one else does.
The eye-opening conversation between these two characters starts as Montag is walking home from work, whistling to himself and being generally cheery. As he approaches a corner on his homeward route, he gets the sneaking suspicion that someone is either watching him, was just there, or both. He turns the corner, and he finds that Clarisse is standing right there.
She proceeds to start studying him as they walk to their houses together, talking about strange things like how he smells of kerosene and asking him if he ever reads the books he burns. Remarks from her follow seemingly average things Guy does or says, such as when he laughs and she asks him why laughed instead of actually thinking about what she said.
Eventually, they reach Clarisse's house, which is right across the road from Montag's house. He is puzzled by the fact that the lights of Clarisse's house are all on this late at night, and they hear her family talking together and laughing. He asks what they could possibly be talking about when they talk for so long, and Clarisse laughs and asks him if he is happy. Naturally, he answers yes, but before he can ask her why she asked him, she is laughing and running into her house, leaving Montag with his thoughts.
This is one of my favorite parts of the book, partly because Clarisse is introduced in it, but also because Montag's character is developed. The first few paragraphs of the book make him seem scary and mean, but his conversation with Clarisse throws a different light on him. It suggests that he is more than just a man who burns books, that he actually may think and like to think. He just doesn't because no one else does.
Clarisse Also Pwns
Clarisse McClellan is most definitely my favorite character out of the entire twisted cast of this book.
For one thing, she doesn't have any stupid flaws that make me want to claw my eyes out when they show up, unlike some other characters who annoy me with their pointless chavishes (Mildred...). I know that if she had had a bit more page-time with the reader, she would have had some flaws, but in the little time that she shows up, Clarisse is perfect. Not perfect by this imaginary society's standards, of course, but perfect compared to all of these other fatally flawed characters.
Also, I think that it's extremely awesome that she is the way she is in this messed up society that she lives in. She's the complete opposite of every person on the planet - she thinks, she is kind, and she doesn't care what others think of her. It's extremely hard to do something like that. It's like being invited to a party and being told to wear black only and wearing white instead. You subconsciously want to follow the crow for the sense of sharing and community, but you know what's right and that if you don't do what's right, you'll never be comfortable with yourself.
Her personality also makes me like her a lot. She's a very sweet person, and she's also kind of a weird person, which I can appreciate from being myself. Weird people are the best. The way she seems to reflect the people around her back at themselves, too, is extraordinary. She is a person who makes people think, and those kinds of people are sometimes the best friends to have. Clarisse also notices things that other people don't. Observant. And because she is observant and thoughtful, she is also insightful and very wise, even though she is "seventeen and crazy."
In all honesty, Clarisse is a character that makes me want to be a better me, and that's why I like her.
For one thing, she doesn't have any stupid flaws that make me want to claw my eyes out when they show up, unlike some other characters who annoy me with their pointless chavishes (Mildred...). I know that if she had had a bit more page-time with the reader, she would have had some flaws, but in the little time that she shows up, Clarisse is perfect. Not perfect by this imaginary society's standards, of course, but perfect compared to all of these other fatally flawed characters.
Also, I think that it's extremely awesome that she is the way she is in this messed up society that she lives in. She's the complete opposite of every person on the planet - she thinks, she is kind, and she doesn't care what others think of her. It's extremely hard to do something like that. It's like being invited to a party and being told to wear black only and wearing white instead. You subconsciously want to follow the crow for the sense of sharing and community, but you know what's right and that if you don't do what's right, you'll never be comfortable with yourself.
Her personality also makes me like her a lot. She's a very sweet person, and she's also kind of a weird person, which I can appreciate from being myself. Weird people are the best. The way she seems to reflect the people around her back at themselves, too, is extraordinary. She is a person who makes people think, and those kinds of people are sometimes the best friends to have. Clarisse also notices things that other people don't. Observant. And because she is observant and thoughtful, she is also insightful and very wise, even though she is "seventeen and crazy."
In all honesty, Clarisse is a character that makes me want to be a better me, and that's why I like her.
Mini Section NUMERO UNO (Wait, Isn't This English Class?) - Fahrenheit 451
Since Fahrenheit 451 has three parts that are too long to summarize in one blog post, I'm taking the book by the mini sections where there happen to be double spaces separating the parts of the parts of the story.
The first mini section is a mini mini section, but it sets the tone of the rest of the book. In it, the main character, Guy Montag, is introduced as he burns books in a house, smiling evilly all the while.
It was kind of creepy.
The first line clearly states Guy's sentiments right off the bat:
"It was a pleasure to burn."
Yeah, not a very happy statement, and when I narrated it inside my head, the creepiest voice in the history of creepy voices read it. But, like most first sentences of books, id does set the mood for the rest of the book - that is, foreboding, sinister, twisted, and disturbing. Not the happiest book ever written.
This mini section also introduces one of the main and notable things about this book - the fact that books are not only banned, but burned. Montag is a fireman, but he doesn't stop fires. Quite the contrary, he starts them in houses that contain books. And from this beginning section, we can tell that he enjoys his job. Or something. He seems to enjoy it, at least for now.
This beginning also suggests that the fires have somehow branded Montag with this line:
"It never went away, that smile, it never went away, as long as he remembered."
It seems to me like being a fireman has stamped something onto Guy, something that will never go away no matter what he does to try and erase it. He may be able to cover it up, but I think this will always be a part of him. I'm not sure what that something is right now, but if I figure it out, I'll write about it.
Short section, rambling blod, average Kitt Nika work. All is right in the world.
The first mini section is a mini mini section, but it sets the tone of the rest of the book. In it, the main character, Guy Montag, is introduced as he burns books in a house, smiling evilly all the while.
It was kind of creepy.
The first line clearly states Guy's sentiments right off the bat:
"It was a pleasure to burn."
Yeah, not a very happy statement, and when I narrated it inside my head, the creepiest voice in the history of creepy voices read it. But, like most first sentences of books, id does set the mood for the rest of the book - that is, foreboding, sinister, twisted, and disturbing. Not the happiest book ever written.
This mini section also introduces one of the main and notable things about this book - the fact that books are not only banned, but burned. Montag is a fireman, but he doesn't stop fires. Quite the contrary, he starts them in houses that contain books. And from this beginning section, we can tell that he enjoys his job. Or something. He seems to enjoy it, at least for now.
This beginning also suggests that the fires have somehow branded Montag with this line:
"It never went away, that smile, it never went away, as long as he remembered."
It seems to me like being a fireman has stamped something onto Guy, something that will never go away no matter what he does to try and erase it. He may be able to cover it up, but I think this will always be a part of him. I'm not sure what that something is right now, but if I figure it out, I'll write about it.
Short section, rambling blod, average Kitt Nika work. All is right in the world.
The Bank Is Scary
The banks and companies that actually own the land that the tenant farmers farm were mentioned in the fourth chapter, but in an insightful way that made me glad that I had read this book.
As the farmers continue to become more and more confused as to why they are being kicked off the land, the landowners mention something odd. When the statement is given a closer look, I think everyone could agree with it:
"But--you see, a bank or a company can't do that, because those creatures don't breathe air, don't eat side-meat. They breathe profits; they eat the interest on money. If they don't get it, they die the way you die without air, without side-meat. It is a sad thing, but it is so. It is just so."
Later on, this is mentioned by the landowners:
"We're sorry. It's not us. It's the monster. The bank isn't like a man.
Yes, but the bank is only made of men.
No, you're wrong there--quite wrong there. The bank is something else than men. It happens that every man in a bank hates what the bank does, and yet the bank does it. The bank is something more than men, I tell you. It's the monster. Men made it, but they can't control it."
It's true, isn't it? And it's kind of scary to think about. How many decisions do we make that are based on the demands of the bank? And how often are those decisions ones that are beneficial or add to our own enjoyment of life, or even to just us living? It's as if the bank controls everything about us. We are slaves to money and capitalism, and frankly, it scares me to know how limited my "freedom" is. Business is getting too big, I think, but it seems impossible to destroy this monster, doesn't it? I wish we could, for our own sakes.
... That was pretty cryptic. Don't ask me where that came from.
As the farmers continue to become more and more confused as to why they are being kicked off the land, the landowners mention something odd. When the statement is given a closer look, I think everyone could agree with it:
"But--you see, a bank or a company can't do that, because those creatures don't breathe air, don't eat side-meat. They breathe profits; they eat the interest on money. If they don't get it, they die the way you die without air, without side-meat. It is a sad thing, but it is so. It is just so."
Later on, this is mentioned by the landowners:
"We're sorry. It's not us. It's the monster. The bank isn't like a man.
Yes, but the bank is only made of men.
No, you're wrong there--quite wrong there. The bank is something else than men. It happens that every man in a bank hates what the bank does, and yet the bank does it. The bank is something more than men, I tell you. It's the monster. Men made it, but they can't control it."
It's true, isn't it? And it's kind of scary to think about. How many decisions do we make that are based on the demands of the bank? And how often are those decisions ones that are beneficial or add to our own enjoyment of life, or even to just us living? It's as if the bank controls everything about us. We are slaves to money and capitalism, and frankly, it scares me to know how limited my "freedom" is. Business is getting too big, I think, but it seems impossible to destroy this monster, doesn't it? I wish we could, for our own sakes.
... That was pretty cryptic. Don't ask me where that came from.
Summary - Chapter 5
Another filler chapter. Oh how I love them.
This one was actually about the eviction of the tenant farmers, when the bank owners had to start sending people in to tell them that the land was being repossessed. It was kind of really sad. The farmers argued that their ancestors had died making this land theirs, and that generation after generation had been born, worked, and died on the land. The farmers made an insightful point - that things like that, putting your whole life into something - makes ownership, not papers and money.
Unfortunately, we know how this works. The bank needs money to "live", and it costs less if one tractor replaces fifteen or twenty families of sharecroppers. Of course, then, how will those families survive? I see it almost as being murder. Murder for profit. Let's destory one hundred peoples' lives so that we can give people who are already prosperous more money. That's pure genius.
... I was joking about the genius thing, if you couldn't tell. In this chapter, it also said something else insightful, though. The people - tenant, spokesperson, and tractor operator - described the bank/company as a monster created by man, but a monster which man cannot control. I'll talk more about that in the next post, but it was nice to see some unity of thought for once.
Naturally, the farmers get angry at the tractor men and the spokespeople, but I don't think they can really be blamed. Desperate times call for desperate measures, right? Still, I think there's some choice in the matter, but it's a tough decision, and not for the weak-willed. Also, this section affirmed the point that the bank wasn't men, it was a monster. The farmers wanted to kill the man doing this to them, but they realized that there was no one man to shoot. It was nobody's fault. It was the bank who was to blame, but you can't kill a bank, can you?
So, the tenant farmers' houses get torn down by tractors controlled by a man-made monster called the bank, and the farmers and their families have no where to go. This chapter was really depression, but then again, this whole book is like that. Maybe because it takes place during the Great Depression. I guess that's why they it that.
This one was actually about the eviction of the tenant farmers, when the bank owners had to start sending people in to tell them that the land was being repossessed. It was kind of really sad. The farmers argued that their ancestors had died making this land theirs, and that generation after generation had been born, worked, and died on the land. The farmers made an insightful point - that things like that, putting your whole life into something - makes ownership, not papers and money.
Unfortunately, we know how this works. The bank needs money to "live", and it costs less if one tractor replaces fifteen or twenty families of sharecroppers. Of course, then, how will those families survive? I see it almost as being murder. Murder for profit. Let's destory one hundred peoples' lives so that we can give people who are already prosperous more money. That's pure genius.
... I was joking about the genius thing, if you couldn't tell. In this chapter, it also said something else insightful, though. The people - tenant, spokesperson, and tractor operator - described the bank/company as a monster created by man, but a monster which man cannot control. I'll talk more about that in the next post, but it was nice to see some unity of thought for once.
Naturally, the farmers get angry at the tractor men and the spokespeople, but I don't think they can really be blamed. Desperate times call for desperate measures, right? Still, I think there's some choice in the matter, but it's a tough decision, and not for the weak-willed. Also, this section affirmed the point that the bank wasn't men, it was a monster. The farmers wanted to kill the man doing this to them, but they realized that there was no one man to shoot. It was nobody's fault. It was the bank who was to blame, but you can't kill a bank, can you?
So, the tenant farmers' houses get torn down by tractors controlled by a man-made monster called the bank, and the farmers and their families have no where to go. This chapter was really depression, but then again, this whole book is like that. Maybe because it takes place during the Great Depression. I guess that's why they it that.
Chapter 4 - My Opinion (Jim Casy Pwns!)
This was a good chapter in my opinion for a couple of reasons.
Surprisingly, this chapter actually made me laugh. There has never been a classic book that I have had to read for an English class that has made me laugh. Ever. They've made me cry before, but never have I laughed, so this was a bit odd. It was mainly Jim Casy whom I found humorous, and mostly it was his dialogue. He kind of reminded me of myself, as I said before. Especially two comments that made me laugh the most:
"The turtle dug at the rolled coat. Casy looked over at the stirring garment. 'What you got there--a chicken? You'll smother it.'"
"He seemed to be laughing inside himself. 'Uncle John was a crazy bastard,' he said. 'Like what he done with that shoat.' He chuckled and walked on.
Jim Casy waited impatiently. The story did not continue. Casy gave it a good long time to come out. 'Well, what'd he do with that shoat?' he demanded at last, with some irritation."
Both of those comments just seemed like something I might say in both situations, and it made me laugh at the similarity. Plus, the bluntness of both statements is kind of funny, too.
Of course, I liked this chapter because Jim Casy's character was introduced in it. If you don't know my true feelings for Jim Casy, you might want to read the other blogs (seriously, I know this one's newer, but go chronologically!). I love Jim Casy.
Another reason for my fondness of this chapter would be the fact that it ends with a cliffhanger. Cliffhangers, since I have not gotten to mention them yet, are at about the same love level on my chart of writing devices as foreshadowing is. I like to write in my spare time, and cliffhangers just make me feel... diabolical. So, naturally, when I come across them in my reading, I love them, even if they make me wonder what happens next.
Oh, I also liked the special paragraph that you can also read about in an earlier post. Seriously, go read the older posts before they crumble into dust from age or something.
Yay Jim Casy!
Surprisingly, this chapter actually made me laugh. There has never been a classic book that I have had to read for an English class that has made me laugh. Ever. They've made me cry before, but never have I laughed, so this was a bit odd. It was mainly Jim Casy whom I found humorous, and mostly it was his dialogue. He kind of reminded me of myself, as I said before. Especially two comments that made me laugh the most:
"The turtle dug at the rolled coat. Casy looked over at the stirring garment. 'What you got there--a chicken? You'll smother it.'"
"He seemed to be laughing inside himself. 'Uncle John was a crazy bastard,' he said. 'Like what he done with that shoat.' He chuckled and walked on.
Jim Casy waited impatiently. The story did not continue. Casy gave it a good long time to come out. 'Well, what'd he do with that shoat?' he demanded at last, with some irritation."
Both of those comments just seemed like something I might say in both situations, and it made me laugh at the similarity. Plus, the bluntness of both statements is kind of funny, too.
Of course, I liked this chapter because Jim Casy's character was introduced in it. If you don't know my true feelings for Jim Casy, you might want to read the other blogs (seriously, I know this one's newer, but go chronologically!). I love Jim Casy.
Another reason for my fondness of this chapter would be the fact that it ends with a cliffhanger. Cliffhangers, since I have not gotten to mention them yet, are at about the same love level on my chart of writing devices as foreshadowing is. I like to write in my spare time, and cliffhangers just make me feel... diabolical. So, naturally, when I come across them in my reading, I love them, even if they make me wonder what happens next.
Oh, I also liked the special paragraph that you can also read about in an earlier post. Seriously, go read the older posts before they crumble into dust from age or something.
Yay Jim Casy!
First Impression - Jim Casy
The preacher - Jim Casy - has got to be one of my favorite characters in this entire book. I like Tom, too, but not as much as I like Jim, and this is why.
For starters, his enthusiasm and excitement for all the new ideas he thinks about and comes up with is contagious. It makes me want to be enthusiastic about things (which I already am very enthusiastic, so you can imagine how he makes me feel), and I love characters that make me want to do things. I kind of relate to Casy in this way, and also in the way that he thinks deeply about things. I'm a pretty religious person, but my mind also tends to wander to other possibilities like Casy's does (only I don't change my views very much or very often, I just think about it). Deep thinking is a forte for both of us, and it makes him easier to like.
I also like how he tends to bring the conversations he has always back to the main thing he is thinking about. In this chapter, for instance, Tom continually tries to talk about other things, but Casy always manages to bring the subject back to his time as a preacher and his new outlook on life. I tend to do this as well, and frankly, when he continued to do this in the chapter, I kind of laughed a little bit.
If there is one thing I don't like about Casy, though, it is his appearance. That's kind of shallow, but I like his personality, so I guess it isn't. He just sounds really, really, unattractive. Steinbeck describes him as having "a long head, bony, tight of skin, and set on a neck as stringy and muscular as a celery stalk." Maybe it's just my dislike of celery biasing my opinion there, but whatever. It goes on to say that his eyes are "heavy and protruding" and his nose is "beaked and hard" and stretches the skin "so tightly that the bridge showed white." His forehead is "abnormally high... lined with delicate blue veins at the temples."
Yeah, not the most attractive person. I still love him though!
For starters, his enthusiasm and excitement for all the new ideas he thinks about and comes up with is contagious. It makes me want to be enthusiastic about things (which I already am very enthusiastic, so you can imagine how he makes me feel), and I love characters that make me want to do things. I kind of relate to Casy in this way, and also in the way that he thinks deeply about things. I'm a pretty religious person, but my mind also tends to wander to other possibilities like Casy's does (only I don't change my views very much or very often, I just think about it). Deep thinking is a forte for both of us, and it makes him easier to like.
I also like how he tends to bring the conversations he has always back to the main thing he is thinking about. In this chapter, for instance, Tom continually tries to talk about other things, but Casy always manages to bring the subject back to his time as a preacher and his new outlook on life. I tend to do this as well, and frankly, when he continued to do this in the chapter, I kind of laughed a little bit.
If there is one thing I don't like about Casy, though, it is his appearance. That's kind of shallow, but I like his personality, so I guess it isn't. He just sounds really, really, unattractive. Steinbeck describes him as having "a long head, bony, tight of skin, and set on a neck as stringy and muscular as a celery stalk." Maybe it's just my dislike of celery biasing my opinion there, but whatever. It goes on to say that his eyes are "heavy and protruding" and his nose is "beaked and hard" and stretches the skin "so tightly that the bridge showed white." His forehead is "abnormally high... lined with delicate blue veins at the temples."
Yeah, not the most attractive person. I still love him though!
8.21.2010
Important Paragraph Maybe?
Another paragraph that I think may mean more than it really is caught my attention as I read Chapter 4. It is as follows:
"Joad plodded along, dragging his cloud of dust behind him. A little bit ahead he saw the high-domed shell of a land turtle, crawling slowly along through the dust, its legs working stiffly and jerkily. Joad stopped to watch it, and his shadow fell on the turtle. Instantly head and legs were withdrawn and the short thick tail clamped sideways into the shell. Joad picked it up and turned it over. The back was brown-gray, like the dust, but the underside of the shell was creamy yellow, clean and smooth. Joad shifted his bundle high under his arm and stroked the smooth undershell with his finger, and he pressed it. It was softer than the back. The hard old head came out and tried to look at the pressing finger, and the legs waved wildly. The turtle wetted on Joad's hand and struggled uselessly in the air. Joad turned it back upright and rolled it up in his coat with his shoes. He could feel it pressing and struggling and fussing under his arm. He moved ahead more quickly now, dragging his heels a little in the fine dust."
This paragraph just struck me a bit, much like the other one. I don't know why, but I think this is symbolic of Tom starting to analyze who and what he is for some reason. Like I said in my last post, I feel like the turtle is symbolic of Tom, and I found it slightly ironic that he finds and picks up the exact same turtle from the last chapter as he's walking. I kind of see this paragraph as symbolizing Tom starting to wonder what it is he is going to do with his life now that he's out of prison.
I could always be taking something from nothing, though, but I don't know. This paragraph just kind of screamed, "SYMBOLISM!!!" at me. My ears hurt now.
"Joad plodded along, dragging his cloud of dust behind him. A little bit ahead he saw the high-domed shell of a land turtle, crawling slowly along through the dust, its legs working stiffly and jerkily. Joad stopped to watch it, and his shadow fell on the turtle. Instantly head and legs were withdrawn and the short thick tail clamped sideways into the shell. Joad picked it up and turned it over. The back was brown-gray, like the dust, but the underside of the shell was creamy yellow, clean and smooth. Joad shifted his bundle high under his arm and stroked the smooth undershell with his finger, and he pressed it. It was softer than the back. The hard old head came out and tried to look at the pressing finger, and the legs waved wildly. The turtle wetted on Joad's hand and struggled uselessly in the air. Joad turned it back upright and rolled it up in his coat with his shoes. He could feel it pressing and struggling and fussing under his arm. He moved ahead more quickly now, dragging his heels a little in the fine dust."
This paragraph just struck me a bit, much like the other one. I don't know why, but I think this is symbolic of Tom starting to analyze who and what he is for some reason. Like I said in my last post, I feel like the turtle is symbolic of Tom, and I found it slightly ironic that he finds and picks up the exact same turtle from the last chapter as he's walking. I kind of see this paragraph as symbolizing Tom starting to wonder what it is he is going to do with his life now that he's out of prison.
I could always be taking something from nothing, though, but I don't know. This paragraph just kind of screamed, "SYMBOLISM!!!" at me. My ears hurt now.
Chapter 3 - Foreshadowing and Symbolism
Another short chapter! Halleluiah!
This is actually one of my favorite chapters in the entire book, and that's not just because it's two pages and a paragraph long. This chapter makes good use of both symbolism, imagery, and foreshadowing, and of course, all three of those things make me super happy.
The symbolism was very clever for this chapter. In reality, the chapter was about a turtle crossing a dangerous highway, but I think that Steinbeck meant something by it. I think the turtle symbolizes either Tom Joad or the entire Joad family, whom the reader has yet to meet. It says, "The barley beards slid off his shell, and the clover burrs fell on him and rolled to the ground." I think the seeds are supposed to represent worries or troubles and hardships. Later on, Tom shows a peseverance to these troubles similar to the turtle and doesn't let the family hardships effect their progress.
Eventually, the turtle reaches the embankment where the highway starts. He finds it difficult to climb because of his heavy shell, and accidentally allows a red ant and a head of wild oats to slow him down. After a while, he gets onto the highway and continues. I think the embankment represents the family's future journey to California, during which they come across a few obstacles, but nothing that halts them for too long.
The turtle gets onto the highway and starts to cross when a car swerves to miss it, scaring the turtle and making it hurry faster. Then a truck comes that hits the turtle on purpose and knocks it on its back. However, the turtle gets back on its feet and gets off the highway. The wild oat head begins dropping seeds, and the turtle unknowingly plants them as he continues on his way.
The cars represent the two major conflicts that strike the family when they arrive in California. The second one, however, shakes Tom awake and causes him to make decisions that figuratively plant the seeds of the future, and I think this section of the chapter foreshadows this.
I'm pretty sure this is one of my favorite chapters. I'm such a sucker for foreshadowing and symbolism.
This is actually one of my favorite chapters in the entire book, and that's not just because it's two pages and a paragraph long. This chapter makes good use of both symbolism, imagery, and foreshadowing, and of course, all three of those things make me super happy.
The symbolism was very clever for this chapter. In reality, the chapter was about a turtle crossing a dangerous highway, but I think that Steinbeck meant something by it. I think the turtle symbolizes either Tom Joad or the entire Joad family, whom the reader has yet to meet. It says, "The barley beards slid off his shell, and the clover burrs fell on him and rolled to the ground." I think the seeds are supposed to represent worries or troubles and hardships. Later on, Tom shows a peseverance to these troubles similar to the turtle and doesn't let the family hardships effect their progress.
Eventually, the turtle reaches the embankment where the highway starts. He finds it difficult to climb because of his heavy shell, and accidentally allows a red ant and a head of wild oats to slow him down. After a while, he gets onto the highway and continues. I think the embankment represents the family's future journey to California, during which they come across a few obstacles, but nothing that halts them for too long.
The turtle gets onto the highway and starts to cross when a car swerves to miss it, scaring the turtle and making it hurry faster. Then a truck comes that hits the turtle on purpose and knocks it on its back. However, the turtle gets back on its feet and gets off the highway. The wild oat head begins dropping seeds, and the turtle unknowingly plants them as he continues on his way.
The cars represent the two major conflicts that strike the family when they arrive in California. The second one, however, shakes Tom awake and causes him to make decisions that figuratively plant the seeds of the future, and I think this section of the chapter foreshadows this.
I'm pretty sure this is one of my favorite chapters. I'm such a sucker for foreshadowing and symbolism.
First Impression - Tom Joad
My first impression of Tom Joad is a very mixed one. It's a little confusing, so let me try and explain.
I can already tell that he's the protagonist of the story, - considering the summary on the back of the book said that it revolved around the Joad family and his last name is Joad - but at first he seems a bit... hypocritical? Maybe controversial. His actions seem opposite from each other and kind of bipolar.
Like for instance, he politely asks for a ride from the trucker, and thanks him when he is given his request. Later on, however, he is very snide and rude to him, though this could be because he was irritated that the driver was trying to figure Tom out without asking straight forward questions. I'll just leave it at he seems to enjoy the right to his privacy, but doesn't care if other people know or talk about what he's done.
Another thing - at this point in the book, we only know that Tom has killed someone, and we don't know why. He seems a dangerous person for now, but his gentle manner when he first talks to the driver suggests otherwise. My first reaction to this was to wait and see what else I was going to be told about the murder before judging Tom on it, but still, I couldn't help but feel he must have some sort of temper to have killed someone. The fact that he has a flask with him (although I guess it was a common thing at the time) made me also wonder in alcohol had any influence in the murder.
Either way, I did notice that Tom does seem somewhat of a gentleman, if not rough around the edges. I'm not sure how that works out, but it does. I definitely liked him the first time I read this chapter, though, and that's all that matters, I suppose. If the reader's being entertained then the author's doing their job.
I can already tell that he's the protagonist of the story, - considering the summary on the back of the book said that it revolved around the Joad family and his last name is Joad - but at first he seems a bit... hypocritical? Maybe controversial. His actions seem opposite from each other and kind of bipolar.
Like for instance, he politely asks for a ride from the trucker, and thanks him when he is given his request. Later on, however, he is very snide and rude to him, though this could be because he was irritated that the driver was trying to figure Tom out without asking straight forward questions. I'll just leave it at he seems to enjoy the right to his privacy, but doesn't care if other people know or talk about what he's done.
Another thing - at this point in the book, we only know that Tom has killed someone, and we don't know why. He seems a dangerous person for now, but his gentle manner when he first talks to the driver suggests otherwise. My first reaction to this was to wait and see what else I was going to be told about the murder before judging Tom on it, but still, I couldn't help but feel he must have some sort of temper to have killed someone. The fact that he has a flask with him (although I guess it was a common thing at the time) made me also wonder in alcohol had any influence in the murder.
Either way, I did notice that Tom does seem somewhat of a gentleman, if not rough around the edges. I'm not sure how that works out, but it does. I definitely liked him the first time I read this chapter, though, and that's all that matters, I suppose. If the reader's being entertained then the author's doing their job.
The Trucker
The trucker in Chapter 2 plays a small but significant role. I almost didn't want to mention him, but I figured I'd give him some love in the form of his very own blog post.
His name is never mentioned, but we can tell a lot from how he looks. He is "thick in the stomach" and "broad in the shoulders." His size implies that he thinks himself a big and important person, someone who should be noticed, but his large stomach makes him seem like an easy-going guy who doesn't work very hard, or as hard as he could. He isn't living up to his full potential, but he wants to. His eyes are "long and slitted from having squinted always at a sharp light." While this could be because he is always lookign into harsh light, it also would give him a scrutinizing look, like he is always trying to pry into your mind and figure you out, something we find is true in the dialogue he has with Tom Joad.
The trucker is an average guy - he wants to be good, but he doesn't want to get in trouble for doing something good. For instance, he picks up Tom as a hitch-hiker even though he isn't supposed to by contract, but he does it in secret so that no one can get him in trouble. A lot of people are like that, even now eighty years later. Do the good deed, but only if you don't step on anyone's toes.
In the car, he begins to pry into Tom's personal life with shifty questions and glances. This helps the reader get a good idea of who Tom is and what he is like.
I just realized that I have no clue as to why I dedicated an entire blog entry to the trucker. His only purpose in my eyes was to let the reader learn more about Tom. I must be really tired. Maybe I should be a psychologist.
His name is never mentioned, but we can tell a lot from how he looks. He is "thick in the stomach" and "broad in the shoulders." His size implies that he thinks himself a big and important person, someone who should be noticed, but his large stomach makes him seem like an easy-going guy who doesn't work very hard, or as hard as he could. He isn't living up to his full potential, but he wants to. His eyes are "long and slitted from having squinted always at a sharp light." While this could be because he is always lookign into harsh light, it also would give him a scrutinizing look, like he is always trying to pry into your mind and figure you out, something we find is true in the dialogue he has with Tom Joad.
The trucker is an average guy - he wants to be good, but he doesn't want to get in trouble for doing something good. For instance, he picks up Tom as a hitch-hiker even though he isn't supposed to by contract, but he does it in secret so that no one can get him in trouble. A lot of people are like that, even now eighty years later. Do the good deed, but only if you don't step on anyone's toes.
In the car, he begins to pry into Tom's personal life with shifty questions and glances. This helps the reader get a good idea of who Tom is and what he is like.
I just realized that I have no clue as to why I dedicated an entire blog entry to the trucker. His only purpose in my eyes was to let the reader learn more about Tom. I must be really tired. Maybe I should be a psychologist.
Chapter 2 - Paragraph of Foreshadowing
There is a paragraph that stuck out at me while I was reading the second chapter. It is the following, on page 6 of The Grapes of Wrath:
"The man's clothes were new--all of them, cheap and new. His gray cap was so new that the visor was still stiff and the button still on, not shapeless and bulged as it would be when it had served for a while all the various purposes of a cap--carrying sack, towel, handkerchief. His suit was of cheap gray hardcloth and so new that there were creases in the trousers. His blue chambray shirt was stiff and smooth with filler. The coat was too big, the trousers too short, for he was a tall man. The coat shoulder peaks hung down on his arms, and even then the sleeves were too short and the front of the coat flapped loosely over his stomach. He wore a pair of new tan shoes of the kind call "army last," hobnailed and with half-circles like horseshoes to protect the edges of the heels from wear. This man sat on the running board and took off his cap and mopped his face with it. Then he put on the cap, and by pulling started the future ruin of the visor."
I guess I feel that this paragraph is some sort of foreshadowing, and as I mentioned before, I love foreshadowing. To me, the description of this man's clothes (later he is given the name Tom Joad) is symbolic of how Tom's point of view is now. He feels fresh and new, like his clothes, and he's looking forward optimistically to a fresh start (first sentence). He hasn't found the other sides of himself (the second sentence suggests this), and he hasn't been worn down by experience and age yet (third and fourth sentences). He doesn't fit the image he is put in (sentences five and six), and he thinks he is safe from harm for now (sentence seven). The last two sentences foreshadow his future, by suggesting that this fresh, new Tom Joad will be cast into ruin, just like the cap.
"The man's clothes were new--all of them, cheap and new. His gray cap was so new that the visor was still stiff and the button still on, not shapeless and bulged as it would be when it had served for a while all the various purposes of a cap--carrying sack, towel, handkerchief. His suit was of cheap gray hardcloth and so new that there were creases in the trousers. His blue chambray shirt was stiff and smooth with filler. The coat was too big, the trousers too short, for he was a tall man. The coat shoulder peaks hung down on his arms, and even then the sleeves were too short and the front of the coat flapped loosely over his stomach. He wore a pair of new tan shoes of the kind call "army last," hobnailed and with half-circles like horseshoes to protect the edges of the heels from wear. This man sat on the running board and took off his cap and mopped his face with it. Then he put on the cap, and by pulling started the future ruin of the visor."
I guess I feel that this paragraph is some sort of foreshadowing, and as I mentioned before, I love foreshadowing. To me, the description of this man's clothes (later he is given the name Tom Joad) is symbolic of how Tom's point of view is now. He feels fresh and new, like his clothes, and he's looking forward optimistically to a fresh start (first sentence). He hasn't found the other sides of himself (the second sentence suggests this), and he hasn't been worn down by experience and age yet (third and fourth sentences). He doesn't fit the image he is put in (sentences five and six), and he thinks he is safe from harm for now (sentence seven). The last two sentences foreshadow his future, by suggesting that this fresh, new Tom Joad will be cast into ruin, just like the cap.
My Opinion - Chapter 1 of Grapes of Wrath
I liked the first chapter of The Grapes of Wrath. Well, I like the entire book, but this is a good chapter. It's one of the filler chapters, and they are the chapters I like the most.
Why? Well, for starters, there is no dialogue in this chapter. In the other ones, there is dialogue in the Oklahoma vernacular, accent included, and it is extremely irking. I tend to be what you may call a "grammar Nazi", so seeing dialogue that looks like this:
"Let's see what the fambly wants ta do."
"Remember what Uncle John done last weeken'?"
- makes me mad.
... Okay, that isn't actual dialogue, but it looks like that. It's really, really irritating, and I kind of want to attack it with a word processor that has a spell check feature.
Other than that, I really liked the imagery in this chapter. I already wrote about that, I know, but the words made the setting really pop out for me. I always appreciate good descriptions because they add a lot to the story when done and used correctly, so that made this chapter fun to read for me.
I also liked that it was three and a fourth pages long. That was VERY nice.
The foreshadowing also made this chapter enjoyable to me. Foreshadowing is one of my favorite plot devices, so the foreshadowing with the farming families made me happy in a sad way. It's such a nice way to get the reader excited about the rest of the book and to get them to speculate and wonder what will happen next. That's why I like it.
Also, one of my favorite things about this chapter - and the entire book - is the history behind it. I'm a history nerd as well as a grammar Nazi, so reading historical fiction is something I enjoy. It's like getting personal with history, which isn't always as personal as it could be. So yes, this first chapter was a really good start to the book.
Why? Well, for starters, there is no dialogue in this chapter. In the other ones, there is dialogue in the Oklahoma vernacular, accent included, and it is extremely irking. I tend to be what you may call a "grammar Nazi", so seeing dialogue that looks like this:
"Let's see what the fambly wants ta do."
"Remember what Uncle John done last weeken'?"
- makes me mad.
... Okay, that isn't actual dialogue, but it looks like that. It's really, really irritating, and I kind of want to attack it with a word processor that has a spell check feature.
Other than that, I really liked the imagery in this chapter. I already wrote about that, I know, but the words made the setting really pop out for me. I always appreciate good descriptions because they add a lot to the story when done and used correctly, so that made this chapter fun to read for me.
I also liked that it was three and a fourth pages long. That was VERY nice.
The foreshadowing also made this chapter enjoyable to me. Foreshadowing is one of my favorite plot devices, so the foreshadowing with the farming families made me happy in a sad way. It's such a nice way to get the reader excited about the rest of the book and to get them to speculate and wonder what will happen next. That's why I like it.
Also, one of my favorite things about this chapter - and the entire book - is the history behind it. I'm a history nerd as well as a grammar Nazi, so reading historical fiction is something I enjoy. It's like getting personal with history, which isn't always as personal as it could be. So yes, this first chapter was a really good start to the book.
Mood - Grapes of Wrath
John Steinbeck uses very bold imagery to help create mood in the first chapter of The Grapes of Wrath. His word selection allows the reader to better visualize the setting, and the setting, when properly described, can help to set the mood. His use of adjectives is amazing as he uses them to describe otherwise common things. A few examples follow:
"In the morning the dust hung like fog, and the sun was as red as ripe new blood." (Page 3)
"The rain crust broke and the dust lifted up out of the field and drove gray plumes into the air like sluggish smoke." (Page 2)
Specifically, words and word phrases like "fog", "ripe new blood", and "sluggish smoke" help convey an ominous feeling in the setting. The sentences, without such describers, would otherwise be very dull. The verbs he uses are equally ominous and eerie:
"The weeds frayed and edged back toward their roots." (Page 1)
"When the night came again it was black night, for the stars could not pierce the dust to get down, and the window lights could not even spread beyond their own yards." (Page 3)
Steinbeck could have used verbs like "die" or "reach", but the verbs "frayed", "edged", and "pierce" insinuate something a little scarier and drawn out than simpler and more common verbs. They hint at a long, drawn out, and tragic death, almost like the world is falling apart. It fits, however, because for these tenant farmers, their world is figuratively falling apart since all they know how to do is farm.
On more thing adds to the setting of the mood in this part of the book's exposition, and that is the reacion of the women and children to the men and the destruction of the crops. In the book, Steinbeck says, "And the women came out of the houses to stand besides their men-to feel whether this time the men would break. The women studied the men's faces secretly, for the corn could go, as long as something else remained." This foreshadows the time when the men will break, making the mood even eerier.
"In the morning the dust hung like fog, and the sun was as red as ripe new blood." (Page 3)
"The rain crust broke and the dust lifted up out of the field and drove gray plumes into the air like sluggish smoke." (Page 2)
Specifically, words and word phrases like "fog", "ripe new blood", and "sluggish smoke" help convey an ominous feeling in the setting. The sentences, without such describers, would otherwise be very dull. The verbs he uses are equally ominous and eerie:
"The weeds frayed and edged back toward their roots." (Page 1)
"When the night came again it was black night, for the stars could not pierce the dust to get down, and the window lights could not even spread beyond their own yards." (Page 3)
Steinbeck could have used verbs like "die" or "reach", but the verbs "frayed", "edged", and "pierce" insinuate something a little scarier and drawn out than simpler and more common verbs. They hint at a long, drawn out, and tragic death, almost like the world is falling apart. It fits, however, because for these tenant farmers, their world is figuratively falling apart since all they know how to do is farm.
On more thing adds to the setting of the mood in this part of the book's exposition, and that is the reacion of the women and children to the men and the destruction of the crops. In the book, Steinbeck says, "And the women came out of the houses to stand besides their men-to feel whether this time the men would break. The women studied the men's faces secretly, for the corn could go, as long as something else remained." This foreshadows the time when the men will break, making the mood even eerier.
Chapter One - The Grapes of Wrath
The first chapter of a book is extremely important for the rest of the story. It sets the mood for everything that follows, and it also must hook and reel in the reader so that they want to read the rest of the novel.
Chapter One of The Grapes of Wrath is a bit different from some of the other chapters in the book. I have come to think of it and the other chapters similar to it as sort of "filler" chapters, but not it a sense that they are not as important as the other chapters. The other chapters are mainly about the Joad family's story, but the filler chapters help the reader see the big picture of the entire Dust Bowl migration and how the Joad family fits into this historic event.
I think it was a smart idea for John Steinbeck to use these chapters. About half of the chapters are filler, and the other half are the actual story. The chapters continue to remind you of the general mood of the story, and they help Steinbeck get his point across. They are kind of the ropes that ties the whole story together.
I personally like them because they let you step back from the Joad family for a little bit and take a breather. I tend to get emotionally attached to the characters in the books that I read, so it helps that these chapters do no talk about them.
This first "filler" chapter basically detailed the beginning of the Dust Bowl disaster. There was a long drought in the Midwest/West, during which the ground dried so much that it began to turn to dust. Then a series of wind storms came that destroyed most famers' crops and houses. This eventually forced most families out on the road. It was not really a happy time, but this book is not really happy either, so it is a perfect start for this book.
Chapter One of The Grapes of Wrath is a bit different from some of the other chapters in the book. I have come to think of it and the other chapters similar to it as sort of "filler" chapters, but not it a sense that they are not as important as the other chapters. The other chapters are mainly about the Joad family's story, but the filler chapters help the reader see the big picture of the entire Dust Bowl migration and how the Joad family fits into this historic event.
I think it was a smart idea for John Steinbeck to use these chapters. About half of the chapters are filler, and the other half are the actual story. The chapters continue to remind you of the general mood of the story, and they help Steinbeck get his point across. They are kind of the ropes that ties the whole story together.
I personally like them because they let you step back from the Joad family for a little bit and take a breather. I tend to get emotionally attached to the characters in the books that I read, so it helps that these chapters do no talk about them.
This first "filler" chapter basically detailed the beginning of the Dust Bowl disaster. There was a long drought in the Midwest/West, during which the ground dried so much that it began to turn to dust. Then a series of wind storms came that destroyed most famers' crops and houses. This eventually forced most families out on the road. It was not really a happy time, but this book is not really happy either, so it is a perfect start for this book.
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