<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266</id><updated>2011-11-28T09:51:17.219-06:00</updated><category term='4th'/><category term='post 5'/><category term='5th'/><category term='Chopin'/><category term='Poetry Journal #5'/><category term='Question 3'/><category term='Journal Entry #4'/><category term='bonnie journal entry #2'/><category term='iron man'/><category term='question 9'/><category term='the story of an hour'/><category term='rituals'/><category term='Poetry Journal #2'/><category term='Poetry Journal Entry #3'/><category term='blog #2'/><category term='Journal Entry #3'/><category term='T'/><category term='class'/><category term='Jrnl #10'/><category term='Unit 2 blog assignment'/><category term='Journal Entry #2  JenN'/><category term='English 1102'/><category term='tone'/><category term='The Storm'/><category term='chris fear'/><category term='Journal Entry #1'/><category term='Lauri Beier'/><category term='english'/><category term='ivys entry 4'/><category term='theme'/><category term='allusions'/><category term='bonnie journal entry #3'/><category term='blog #3'/><category term='JenN'/><category term='poem #2'/><category term='Poetry Journal #4'/><category term='Journal Entry #5'/><category term='Journal Entry #2'/><category term='ivys entry 3'/><category term='poetry'/><category term='P 289 question 3'/><category term='Trial'/><category term='Kate. &quot;The Story of the Hour.&quot; Literature (1894) 193-194'/><category term='blog #4'/><category term='3rd'/><category term='blogging'/><category term='Poetry Journal #1'/><category term='Poetry Journal Entry #2'/><category term='answer to question 3 on pg. 467'/><category term='practice post'/><category term='lyric analysis'/><title type='text'>College Writing II Online</title><subtitle type='html'>A place to write responses to, and to build interpretations of, literature for College Writing II at Minnesota State Community and Technical College.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Jenn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10976582132364290542</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rqkePxhXV30/SaGuylexqjI/AAAAAAAAAJk/5aEPqth4Ll8/S220/Snapshot_20090120_2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>952</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-4376127122218682556</id><published>2010-04-04T22:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T23:13:49.887-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Symbolism is Porphyria's Lover</title><content type='html'>The poem Porphyria's Lover has a great deal of symbolism in it's context.  The deranged speaker gives lots of hints that he is not a nice man.  First of all why is she the one out in the rain? She comes in from the rain "And laid her soiled gloves by " (Browning 763).  It sounds like she was out in the rain working, and then she comes in and gets a nice fire going for them.  If she was out in the rain working, why couldn't he have a fire ready for her.  This symbolizes that she is hard working and must actually love or care for this man.  She is probably used to doing all the work.  "Too weak for all her hearts endeavour" (763). She maybe is just overworked and tired.  And, last she, she sat down by my side And called me.  When no voice replied." (763)  Why doesn't he reply?  That is another hint he is either mad, or upset with her.  "And did it's worst to vex the lake," (763) vex symbolizing something bad.  The word vex means to tourment; trouble; distress; or to afflict with physical pain.  Many times during the story, the speaker talks of long, yellow hair.  Her hair sybolizes her beauty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-4376127122218682556?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/4376127122218682556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=4376127122218682556&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4376127122218682556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4376127122218682556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/04/symbolism-is-porphyrias-lover.html' title='Symbolism is Porphyria&apos;s Lover'/><author><name>Penny Lane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11768000330422917484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yzG959o_7VM/S1T9W2rJIhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mf7PG2mIaAU/S220/IMAG0345.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-2430756326273350471</id><published>2010-04-04T14:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T15:32:42.832-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rock</title><content type='html'>I would title my poem about young men and the struggles they have as "The Rock".  The Rock who's real name is Dwyane Johnson is tall, dark, and handsome.  He's got big muscles, a six pack, and is tough hence the name.  Every movie he is in he is the tough guy, or the hero.  I am sure he is an idol for many men.  For I have seen men where "The Rock" shirts, and also seen a young man at the local YMCA that had the exact same brahma bull tattoo on his arm!  I am sure it is not easy on young men if they think they have to live up to this look.  Just as it is not easy living up to the standards, of looking like barbie or America's next top model!  It is not normal to just look and be skinny like barbie.  This for alot of people takes alot of work, like tanning, not eating, or eating disorders, alot of make up and even plastic surgery or tummy tucks.  For men, this look is not also not normal, im sure it takes extreme measures of working out, steroids, and tanning, and waxing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boys are brought up and tought to be strong and manly.   If a boy doesn't like sports, hunting, or tools, it's almost thought of as abnormal from societys view.  It's a big, no no for very young boys to play with a doll or to play house.  Which I don't think is fair, because boys become dads and they shouldn't be so discouraged to somewhat have a feminine side.  I think it goes back to the cave man days, where men had to be strong, have courage, and use tools to bring home the dinner.  The women have always been thought of has staying home, be pretty, cook, clean, and take care of the babies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-2430756326273350471?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/2430756326273350471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=2430756326273350471&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2430756326273350471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2430756326273350471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/04/rock.html' title='The Rock'/><author><name>Penny Lane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11768000330422917484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yzG959o_7VM/S1T9W2rJIhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mf7PG2mIaAU/S220/IMAG0345.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-544846148090918752</id><published>2010-04-02T18:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T18:56:20.407-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ozymandias</title><content type='html'>The poem Ozymandias reminded me of when the US marines pulled down the statue of Iraqi president Saddam Hussein.  The poem developes the theme that nothing lasts because even though his name is "Ozymanmdias, king of kings" he is left in pieces. "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone stand in the desert.  Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command"(Shelley 721).  The imagery really gives you the idea that this "great" statue was destructed on purpose.   Maybe to symbolize that he now is no longer the great and mighty.  "The lone and level sands stretch far away,"(721) this is what is great and everlasting.  Ozymanmdias is a king, like all kings, in that he is both loved and hated.  "The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;" (721)  His hand may have mocked his enemies or maybe he was a Tyrant that mocked his people.  Either way one looks at it he is a king that bullies the weak.  Others may have loved this king, Ozymanmdias, because he fought for them and fed them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-544846148090918752?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/544846148090918752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=544846148090918752&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/544846148090918752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/544846148090918752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/04/ozymandias.html' title='Ozymandias'/><author><name>Penny Lane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11768000330422917484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yzG959o_7VM/S1T9W2rJIhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mf7PG2mIaAU/S220/IMAG0345.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-61713337313175902</id><published>2010-03-30T23:50:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T23:52:11.138-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Irony in "To His Coy Mistress"</title><content type='html'>In the poem “To His Coy Mistress” by Andrew Marvell, the poet uses irony to convey the speaker’s will to his unwilling lover.  There are many examples of verbal irony throughout the poem coming in the form of witty retorts, such as, “And you should, if you please, refuse / Until the conversion of the Jews” (lines 9-10), “And your quaint honor turn to dust / And into ashes all my lust” (29-30).  These are examples of irony because the speaker knows the lady will not stay chaste forever, but uses hyperbole to try and convince her and himself otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main irony does not come from the language of the poem instead from the situation that the speaker finds himself in.  As our speaker professes his love to his mistress, a pure and chaste lady, he begins to list the amount of time he would take to appreciate all of her virtues as she wished; “Had we but world enough and time / This coyness, lady, were no crime / We would sit down and think which way / To walk, and pass our long love’s day” (1-4).  The speaker well knows that the young woman will not remain so forever and neither will he, and wishes to consummate his relationship with his love before time or some unforeseen event separates them; “The graves a fine and private place / But none, I think, do there embrace” (31-32).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ultimate irony comes from the fact that the speaker and the lady listener are correct in their assertions.  The speaker in that, when with someone you love, all time is precious and coyness is a virtue that must be held in reserve for every minute could be your last with that loved one.  The lady is correct in that, without said virtue, what is such a love worth if one cannot be sure of its purity and strength of commitment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-61713337313175902?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/61713337313175902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=61713337313175902&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/61713337313175902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/61713337313175902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/irony-in-to-his-coy-mistress.html' title='Irony in &quot;To His Coy Mistress&quot;'/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05903191117554959603</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2N9aiIl1rMQ/S1Ca7U-lGfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mAo0usk5yEo/S220/HolyGrail166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-3524525567029007477</id><published>2010-03-30T23:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T23:46:49.091-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Barbie Doll</title><content type='html'>Many people think that media influences, peer pressure, and social norms are only targeted towards women or girls but this is not true.  Males are victims of this as well.  In the poem “Barbie Doll” by Marge Piercy, the effects that social norms and peer pressure on a young girl and evident.  She is teased for her physical appearance when underneath she may be just as good as or better than those teasing her may be.  If I were to re-write this poem to reflect experiences of a young man I would gear it toward the idea that many people limit the effects of peer pressure, social norms, and media influences to females but males also struggle with these things as well.  The Barbie Doll is not the only one looking perfect, the ken doll also provides an unrealistic role model for males.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-3524525567029007477?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/3524525567029007477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=3524525567029007477&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3524525567029007477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3524525567029007477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/barbie-doll_1230.html' title='Barbie Doll'/><author><name>Sarah Shuck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05378864358901834770</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-1068970053664661283</id><published>2010-03-30T23:27:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T23:27:29.981-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Porphyria's Lover</title><content type='html'>In the poem “Porphyria’s Lover” by Robert Browning, the poem had me confused at first. After I read it a couple times it really made sense. For my thoughts I didn’t think if you truly loved someone you wouldn’t kill them with their own hair. Also at the end when he says, “I propped her head up as before, only, this time my shoulder bore, her head, which droops upon it still: the smiling rosy little head” (Browning 720). It shows he still had her there, just now it was very quiet there and the rest of the night they just sat there together. It was very crazy how she let him kill her as she was snuggling up to him and told him she loved him. But the development of him actually killing her was great to Browning because it was very unexpected to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-1068970053664661283?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/1068970053664661283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=1068970053664661283&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1068970053664661283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1068970053664661283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/porphyrias-lover.html' title='Porphyria&apos;s Lover'/><author><name>Jennifer DeGroot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14224415037086435269</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MmpnDkAoUHA/S2ElyUR_gYI/AAAAAAAAAAM/vAZ03icStiI/S220/photos+006+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-9203296283397066550</id><published>2010-03-30T22:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T22:53:42.358-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tone in Porphyria's Lover</title><content type='html'>The tone in Porphyria’s Lover is very mysterious and gloomy.  When reading the poem, a person can’t help but realize the speaker is odd.  It seems he doesn’t change his tone and if he were speaking it to an audience it would be monotone.  Even when he explains the murder, the wording doesn’t change and his expression doesn’t change.  This poem and the speaker are detached from what happened.  There is a bit of happiness in the poem though but as soon as one thinks the poem will have a happy ending, it becomes depressing again.  “Happy and proud; at last I knew Porphyria worshipped me…The moment she was mine, mine, fair…I found a thing to do, and all her hair in one long yellow string I wound three times her little throat around, and strangled her” (Browning, lines 32-41).  The speaker was oblivious to the fact that Porphyria felt no pain, “No pain felt she; I am quite sure she felt no pain” (Browning, lines 41-42).  It’s selfish to think she didn’t feel any pain and it’s selfish to take one’s life to keep their love forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-9203296283397066550?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/9203296283397066550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=9203296283397066550&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/9203296283397066550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/9203296283397066550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/tone-in-porphyrias-lover_30.html' title='Tone in Porphyria&apos;s Lover'/><author><name>Jamie Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14618126151543805523</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-4874794674868036245</id><published>2010-03-30T22:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T22:52:47.442-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ozymandias</title><content type='html'>The poem “Ozymandias” by Percy Bysshe Shelley shows the theme “nothing lasts” in a variety of different ways. In the desert the king of kings said “My name is Ozymandias, king of kings, Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!”(Shelley 721). But when you would look around there was nothing there at all. When in the desert the things would sing into the sand either due to quick sand or just the sand over time. Nothing lasts in life according to the king and “which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things”(Shelley 721). It shows just how they haven’t been able to last because there at this land nothing does last.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-4874794674868036245?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/4874794674868036245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=4874794674868036245&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4874794674868036245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4874794674868036245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/ozymandias_2276.html' title='Ozymandias'/><author><name>Jennifer DeGroot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14224415037086435269</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MmpnDkAoUHA/S2ElyUR_gYI/AAAAAAAAAAM/vAZ03icStiI/S220/photos+006+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-1827237260583161865</id><published>2010-03-30T22:48:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T22:54:17.326-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To His Coy Mistress</title><content type='html'>In the poem, "To His Coy Mistress," there is some irony hidden within the lines. For example, early on in the poem, the writer tells about how he loves this woman. By the end of the story, he is talking about death and how the "grave is a fine and private place." He also says that we need to "Tear our pleasures with rough strife/Thorough the iron gates of life." It is ironic that you need to tear through the iron gates of life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-1827237260583161865?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/1827237260583161865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=1827237260583161865&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1827237260583161865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1827237260583161865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/to-his-coy-mistress.html' title='To His Coy Mistress'/><author><name>salwei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10506447230980798674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-5058595568262915908</id><published>2010-03-30T22:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T22:48:07.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Barbie Doll</title><content type='html'>In the poem “Barbie Doll” by Marge Piercy, it reflects the life of a girl going through tough times where people judge her. They tell her what’s wrong and she tries to fix it because she would rather try to fit in. The poem doesn’t show what a young man goes through. In high school a young man has to deal with being attractive, muscular, and try to be nice towards the ladies. If they don’t have a good looking girl, no girl at all, or even any girls that are friends they have a time where they’ll get picked on as well. He’ll then try to correct that and fix them probably. He could then get turned down or even made fun of more. This could lead him into drugs or alcohol. Guys do have a lot of things that go just as wrong as the ladies do. “Then in the magic of puberty, a classmate said: You have a great big nose and fat legs” (Piercy 991). Here for the guys it would be the muscles or the masculine part of them and then when they start getting that squeaky voice instead of the other changes a girl faces. Every guy and girl faces hard times and they do need to know how to deal with them. This poem only shows what may happen to girls but could be reversed to what happens to the guys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-5058595568262915908?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/5058595568262915908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=5058595568262915908&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5058595568262915908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5058595568262915908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/barbie-doll_5788.html' title='Barbie Doll'/><author><name>Jennifer DeGroot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14224415037086435269</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MmpnDkAoUHA/S2ElyUR_gYI/AAAAAAAAAAM/vAZ03icStiI/S220/photos+006+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-4402049271540147273</id><published>2010-03-30T22:37:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T22:46:21.399-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ozymandias</title><content type='html'>When you read the poem "Ozymandias," you get the impression that the reader is saying that nothing lasts. You get a sense of sadness when you read the poem. When I read the poem, I picture a dessert where everything is dry and dead, and nothing can survive. The different speakers in the poem adds different voices and tones in the poem, which create contribution to the theme. The writer also suggests that some things do survive by having a character say that he is the "King of kings."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-4402049271540147273?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/4402049271540147273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=4402049271540147273&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4402049271540147273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4402049271540147273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/ozymandias_9884.html' title='Ozymandias'/><author><name>salwei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10506447230980798674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-3850150913970077546</id><published>2010-03-30T22:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T22:34:01.387-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tone in "To His Coy Mistress"</title><content type='html'>In the poem, “To His Coy Mistress”, Andrew Marvell uses an almost fairy tale tone. It is somewhat difficult to understand on first reading because he embellishes almost every line. Through the speaker’s use of exaggeration he displays imagery in his poem. However, because of the exaggeration, it is a fairy tale image. Using this embellished image, the speaker tries to convince this maiden that he loves her so much, but it seems he is only toying with her in an attempt to satisfy his lust for her. It’s as if he is telling her how good looking and gorgeous she is, just to get in bed with her. For example: “My vegetable love should grow/Vaster than empires, and more slow./ An hundred years should go to praise/ Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze,/ Two hundred to adore each breast, / But thirty thousand to the rest.” (Marvell, lines 11-16) I am not really sure what, “vegetable love” is, but it seems to me as if the speaker is joking with this woman. However, the speaker may be lost in his love for the woman he is speaking about. If this were the case, I’m not sure that even the woman would understand what he is talking about and with all this ridiculous exaggeration, the poems sounds silly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-3850150913970077546?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/3850150913970077546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=3850150913970077546&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3850150913970077546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3850150913970077546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/tone-in-to-his-coy-mistress.html' title='Tone in &quot;To His Coy Mistress&quot;'/><author><name>Jacob_Smith3</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00914602708241895312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-3131870331178030087</id><published>2010-03-30T22:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T22:29:29.708-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Last Duchess</title><content type='html'>The man/speaker in “My Last Duchess” seemed as if he was a controlling, possessive and jealous man who didn’t like others looking at his wife or her giving a certain look to others, “She had a heart…too soon made glad, Too easily impressed; she liked whate’er she looked on, and her looks went everywhere” (Browning, lines 21-24).  The speaker sounds like he was a king or a person of high status.  There are stories about kings and higher class people not getting their way and either beheading their wives, feuding with others, etc. and this speaker seems he could be one of these people, “Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt…but who passed without much the same smile…I gave commands; Then all smiles stopped together” (Browning, lines 43-45).  The speaker is not interested in the picture of his late wife; she’s just another possession of his to keep like he always wanted.   &lt;br /&gt;The speaker is talking to an emissary of a count to arrange a marriage between the speaker/duke and the unknown count’s daughter.  The duke only provides information he wants the count to hear which only tells half the story and makes him appealing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-3131870331178030087?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/3131870331178030087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=3131870331178030087&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3131870331178030087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3131870331178030087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-last-duchess_30.html' title='My Last Duchess'/><author><name>Jamie Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14618126151543805523</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-5468616646739161211</id><published>2010-03-30T22:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T22:35:00.390-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Barbie Doll</title><content type='html'>The poem "Barbie Doll" is written in a very feminist point of view. If I were to change this poem to be about how men are influenced in society, I would change the title to Ken. Ken is the male barbie doll, and makes sense to have it as Ken for a male version of the poem. I would use pictures of the Ken doll. I would use about the same diction that is used in the poem "Barbie Doll."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-5468616646739161211?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/5468616646739161211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=5468616646739161211&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5468616646739161211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5468616646739161211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/barbie-doll_9663.html' title='Barbie Doll'/><author><name>salwei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10506447230980798674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-3023552238880357218</id><published>2010-03-30T21:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T22:10:40.470-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Symbolism in To His Coy Mistress</title><content type='html'>In the second line of To His Coy Mistress, Marvell writes, This coyness, lady, were no crime. Crime meaning something bad that shouldn’t be done. In line eleven he writes about his vegetable love which might symbolize the kind and quality of his love. In line twenty-two, Time’s winged chariot symbolizes death. Marvell writes about deserts of vast eternity in line twenty-four. This could symbolize Heaven or Hell. Heaven would obviously be more appealing but Hell would continue Marvell depressing visions of the future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-3023552238880357218?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/3023552238880357218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=3023552238880357218&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3023552238880357218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3023552238880357218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/symbolism-in-to-his-coy-mistress.html' title='Symbolism in To His Coy Mistress'/><author><name>caleb</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16633909864548408739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-8726258479684320914</id><published>2010-03-30T21:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T21:42:19.418-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Barbie Doll</title><content type='html'>If I had to rewrite this poem, I would name it “Ken” because Ken was also part of the Barbie doll world.  I would talk about the difficulties growing into a man but also the enjoyable side of being a male.   Ken, like Barbie, portrays how men are “supposed” to look like according to society.  Men are suppose to be strong, muscular (not an ounce of fat on them), good-looking and not show there sensitive side or feelings.  They are also supposed to like doing outdoor activities, they are expected to get dirty and be the bread-winner for the family.  This of course is not true.  Not all men are muscular or strong and not all like hunting, fishing, snowmobiling, etc and certainly not all men are the main source of income in a household.  &lt;br /&gt;It’s sad how society has shaped men and women.  People should be able to grow up without the hardships of high school and the real world but that’s how people overcome these hardships.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-8726258479684320914?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/8726258479684320914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=8726258479684320914&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8726258479684320914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8726258479684320914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/barbie-doll_6814.html' title='Barbie Doll'/><author><name>Jamie Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14618126151543805523</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-1155243024531841060</id><published>2010-03-30T21:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T21:37:54.153-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Barbie Doll</title><content type='html'>If this poem were rewritten for a young man, the title could be, Quarterback. Since there are social norms that put award a high level of importance for athletics, there could be imagery of lifting weights and training hard. The pressure to win would be strong. I might write the young man noticing during a game, the fan’s happiness when he scores or disgust when he fumbles the ball. I could present the image of the young man losing his virginity since there can be peer pressure on teens to have sex. When the boy was younger he might play war games outside.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-1155243024531841060?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/1155243024531841060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=1155243024531841060&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1155243024531841060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1155243024531841060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/barbie-doll_328.html' title='Barbie Doll'/><author><name>caleb</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16633909864548408739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-2325248928696516659</id><published>2010-03-30T21:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T21:17:29.877-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ozymandias</title><content type='html'>The first line in the poem says,” I met a traveler from an antique land.” This creates the imagery of someplace old. The traveler talks about the statue in the desert. It is described as ,” Two vast and trunkless legs of stone.  This means they were big and of someone who was important. At least someone important enough to make a giant statue of them. The head is not attached to the body and it has a “ wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command”. This makes me think of arrogance. The beginning of the poem, for the most part, sets up the place and the statue, and the end it becomes clear with the inscription that the king thought he would always be important. Even a giant statue of a great king, can over time be broken and forgotten. I think the sand outlasts the king and his kingdom in the poem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-2325248928696516659?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/2325248928696516659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=2325248928696516659&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2325248928696516659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2325248928696516659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/ozymandias_2760.html' title='Ozymandias'/><author><name>caleb</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16633909864548408739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-3518604604433251164</id><published>2010-03-30T21:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T21:59:54.951-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Tone of  To His Coy Mistress"</title><content type='html'>This poem has a very light tone to it. It is not like most of the other serious poems that we have read yet. I'm usually much more interested in serious or darker writing, but this poem is very interesting to me. It is pretty hard for me to understand. The first time I read through it, I could tell that it was a very cheerful poem. The speaker in the poem is very in love with a girl, "Nor would I love at a lower rate" (20). His joyfullness over his love for this woman really shows through. I can see how a man that is so in love would write a poem that is so happy throughout. The poem also has a very nice flow to it. When reading through, it is easy to read with the rhyming lines, "Had we but world enough and time; This coyness lady were no crime." (1-2). The way the poem flows and the rhythm that is used helps us to realize the very happy tone of this writing. Even though it is a difficult poem to understand, I think that the tone really shows through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-3518604604433251164?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/3518604604433251164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=3518604604433251164&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3518604604433251164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3518604604433251164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/tone-of-to-his-coy-mistress.html' title='&quot;Tone of  To His Coy Mistress&quot;'/><author><name>ewallgren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04838947215583290566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-1577936210567272305</id><published>2010-03-30T20:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T20:56:04.135-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Barbie Doll</title><content type='html'>If I were to re-write this poem with a boy in mind I'd title it &lt;em&gt;All Boy&lt;/em&gt;, a term we use so often to describe rough-and-tumble boys who play with trucks, legos, bugs, video games, and in mud puddles. This term isn't used for the boys who prefer to color, or to play house, or even to read; although these boys are also 'All Boy' considering that they certainly aren't part girl or part dog or anything simply because they enjoy less stereotypical activities. Also, many of the "boyish" activities are considered acceptable for a girl to play, but if a boy enjoys playing dress-up, they're marked as being somehow less boy?? It doesn't make sense and it can damage those boys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-1577936210567272305?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/1577936210567272305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=1577936210567272305&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1577936210567272305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1577936210567272305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/barbie-doll_7951.html' title='Barbie Doll'/><author><name>Ninners</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372776012414770090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-480093023180086988</id><published>2010-03-30T20:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T20:50:28.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ozymandias (option A)</title><content type='html'>In the poem &lt;em&gt;Ozymandias&lt;/em&gt;, a (presumably) Greek person has encountered the Egyptian pharaoh Ramses II. Ramses describes the things that he accomplished during his rule and many of the things that still exist. It does seem though, that Ramses is despairing over the things that haven't lasted so long, over the decayed remnants of his buildings that are seen over the miles and miles of sand. Ramses refers to two stone legs that apparently still stand, along with several half destroyed items.&lt;br /&gt;The imagery in the poem suggests that Ramses is looking back on his rule and on his empire and seeing all the wonderful things he had done and built and the territory he conquered and is seeing that most of it has decayed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-480093023180086988?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/480093023180086988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=480093023180086988&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/480093023180086988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/480093023180086988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/ozymandias-option.html' title='Ozymandias (option A)'/><author><name>Ninners</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372776012414770090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-119511995038733830</id><published>2010-03-30T20:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T20:43:40.912-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Symbolism in Robert Browning, "Prophyria's Lover"</title><content type='html'>In Robert Browning, “Propyrira’s Lover”, the use of symbolism is spread throughout the poem with the most focus on the yellow hair, the storm, and the eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yellow hair is the most memorable symbol in the poem, and the deranged speaker refers to it repeatedly. Does he have a hair fetish? Why does he choke her with her own hair? Why not a pillow or his hands? He is really messed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Line 13: She untied her hat and let the damp hair fall. There is no accident that he uses the word “fall”. Fallen, back in the time period this poem was written, implied sin, so it is implying that by going alone to see him, she is ready to take the next step, by being alone with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Line 18: All her yellow hair displaced, this is the first time he refers to it as yellow. Yellow back then was associated with angelic purity and children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Line 20: And spread, o’er all, her yellow hair. This is the second time, in three lines that he has talked about the yellow hair; he seems just a bit obsessed with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Line 38-41: The speaker takes all of Porphyria’s hair, wraps it three times around her throat, and strangles her. Is her “fall” from purity, symbolic of her sin, and why he decides to kill her?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe or maybe not, there are many ways to look at Robert Browning and his interpretations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The speaker of “Porphyria’s Lover” opens by describing the storm outside. It is like the weather has a mind of its own and it is speaking to him directly; and it sets the tone of the poem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Line 2: The words “sullen” and “awake” personify the weather. The wind can’t feel “sullen”, and it wasn’t asleep before it picks up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Line 3: Feeling “spite”, isn’t why the wind tears up the trees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Line 4: Now it is the lake’s turn to be brought to life. You can’t really “vex” or irritate a body of water no matter how hard you try. Nature is at work here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Line 7: Porphyria somehow has power to turn off the storm as soon as she comes in, as if she can have that type of power. It isn’t spoken, but heavily implied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though there isn’t much talking in this poem, the eyes say a lot in “Porphyria’s Lover”, and here is what they are saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Line 31-32: Be sure I looked up at her eyes, and he saw at that moment how happy and proud she was of him, and that she worshipped him. Her eyes said it all to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Line 43-44: The speaker is clearly deranged now when he says, “As a shut bud that holds a bee, I warily oped her lids: again. He uses a bizarre simile. Is he afraid of getting stung by her eyes when he opens them again? There is also use of alliteration (the b sound in bud, and then in bee) that connects the words bud and bee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Line 45: Laughed the blue eyes without stain. Eyes don’t laugh by themselves, and what type of stain was he expecting? I would expect the eyes to have become bloodshot, if strangled, or some sign of struggle. Is he saying that she is pure once more and Porphyria’s sin is now gone? Or he has no sin, since you can’t see any stain is visible on her eyes, so he is in the clear?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kara Carpenter&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-119511995038733830?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/119511995038733830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=119511995038733830&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/119511995038733830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/119511995038733830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/sybolism-in-robert-browning-prophyrias.html' title='Symbolism in Robert Browning, &quot;Prophyria&apos;s Lover&quot;'/><author><name>Kara Carpenter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05819778438063676844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jCI6nWC4JFQ/S0osjgb_L6I/AAAAAAAAAAU/qS3QCCZk-FU/S220/5109_92056823018_740413018_1936193_1407623_s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-9091396884438503693</id><published>2010-03-30T18:03:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T19:22:39.287-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Irony in "Porphyria's Lover"</title><content type='html'>"Porphyria's Lover" by Robert Browning has a lot of dramatic irony laced throughout the poem. Browning exerts a sense of passion and love in the beginning of the poem and turns it all around by the end. This poem is about a man that has his lover come to him. He feels very strongly about Porphyria and wishes she would love him in return instead of just being his lover. "Happy and proud; at last I knew Porphyria worshipped me; surprise Made my heart swell, and still it grew While I debated what to do." (lines 32-35) Here, this man has finally gotten what he wanted after all this time. But, the question is, does he really want &lt;em&gt;her&lt;/em&gt; now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When emotions are toyed with, people can easily snap and do some selfish and crazy acts of revenge. "That moment she was mine, mine, fair, Perfectly pure and good: I found A thing to do, and all her hair In one long yellow string I wound Three times her little throat around, And strangled her. No pain felt she; I am quite sure she felt no pain." (36-42) So, he did indeed snap. It seems as if he did love her but was sick of the way she treated him perhaps. He wanted to end it for good and that's exactly what he did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a sense of guilt but major relief here too. "I propped her head up as before, Only, this time my shoulder bore Her head, which droops down upon it still: The smiling rosy little head, So glad it has its utmost will, That all it scorned at once is fled, And I, its love, am gained instead!" (49-55) He feels so much better now. Maybe because Porphyria told many lies and hurt him or lost his trust somehow. Whatever it may be, there is now a weight lifted from his shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This poem is very dramatic and has many twists throughout it. "And thus we sit together now, And all night long we have not stirred, And yet God has not said a word!" (58-60) Here the irony evolves with him holding her lifeless body and relating God to the situation. This man will be judged for his actions, but right now he doesn't care. He is with his former lover Porphyria in utter silence; this is the way he wanted it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-9091396884438503693?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/9091396884438503693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=9091396884438503693&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/9091396884438503693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/9091396884438503693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/irony-in-porphyrias-lover_30.html' title='Irony in &quot;Porphyria&apos;s Lover&quot;'/><author><name>carly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00648421383120096515</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VesMMYcZBts/S0o1VI4SYCI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uMzUidN-Yo4/S220/yub.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-2491937744708185342</id><published>2010-03-30T06:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T06:53:09.969-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Last Duchess, the tone of the Duke</title><content type='html'>My Last Duchess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the poem,” My last Duchess”, by Robert Browning, the Duke comes across as an arrogant man.  I can picture him in my mind, a man born and raised knowing he was a duke, and demanding respect and lording down his authority.  Most would not dare say anything to him, but yes sir.  He, with his 900 year old name felt an entitlement not only to his name, but he also commanded and expected his Duchess to be beautiful for all to see, yet loyal to only him.  When he says,”She looked on, and her looks went everywhere” (page 703), you could infer that he felt betrayed by this.  He wanted her all to himself, and for others to envy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is talking to a Count’s secretary; telling him what he is demanding in his future wife.  The Duke wants her to be beautiful, but have eyes only for him, and to be very demure in her manner; no flirting or blushing for all to see.  Basically he wants an ornament on his arm.  His tone seems to say it all, without saying much of anything. A great example of this is when he says, “I gave commands, then all smiles stopped altogether.”(Page 703)  When his Duchess didn’t live up to his expectations, he gave the orders to have her permanently silenced.  His words are golden; he can afford to do whatever he pleases, so when his Duchess no longer pleased him with her unacceptable behavior he had her disposed of, just like she is an object that is easily discarded.  At the end of the poem, he says, “Though his fair daughter’s self, as I avowed at starting, is my object.” (Page 704)  The Duke has clearly not learned a thing; he still thinks his Duchess is an object, meant to be set upon a mantle for all to observe, and to do her duty, which is only to please him. (Page 704)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robert Browning, does a good job in setting up the tone and summing up how Duke’s felt that the world was at their command and all should bow down to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kara Carpenter&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-2491937744708185342?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/2491937744708185342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=2491937744708185342&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2491937744708185342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2491937744708185342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-last-duchess-tone-of-duke.html' title='My Last Duchess, the tone of the Duke'/><author><name>Kara Carpenter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05819778438063676844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jCI6nWC4JFQ/S0osjgb_L6I/AAAAAAAAAAU/qS3QCCZk-FU/S220/5109_92056823018_740413018_1936193_1407623_s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-8877058942285311455</id><published>2010-03-30T06:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T06:14:52.831-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Theme in Shelley's "Ozymandias"</title><content type='html'>In Shelley’s poem “Ozymandias” the author establishes the theme “nothing lasts” by using specific imagery, speaker’s voices, and by contrasting this fact with the idea that some things stand the test of time.  Our unnamed speaker begins by recounting the story of a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“traveler from and antique land”&lt;/span&gt; (line 1), in which the traveler tells of the ruins of an ancient statue that bears the resemblance of King Ramses II.  Using the main speaker’s recollection of the traveler’s view of the sculpture sets the initial tone of the poem and creates the case for the authors theme on more than one level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The traveler’s words have dual meaning when describing the statue, telling of the monument and the legacy of the leader which it represents; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone”&lt;/span&gt; (2); &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown / And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command” &lt;/span&gt;(4-5).  Shelley conveys a tone of greatness and power associated with the once mighty statue and the civilization and king for which it stood, yet at the same time shows how this prominent ode to power crumbled at the hands of time.  The author once again reinforces this; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“’My name is Ozymandias, king of kings / Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!’ / Nothing besides remains”&lt;/span&gt; (10-12). Shelley uses situational irony to deliver his message that power, over time, fades as do the accomplishments associated with it even for the most powerful of men. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In contrast to this the poet asserts that some things do remain after the effects of time, and in doing so offers a view of the poet also.  In line 5 the physical description of the statue is finished by the traveler, leading to a compliment of the sculptor, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“Tell that its sculptor well those passions read / Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things”&lt;/span&gt; (6-7).  This passage shows that even after its destruction the craftsmanship with which the monument was constructed is still apparent, and the skill of the artisan must have been great indeed to capture the emotion of a man so enraptured by power.  Here the poet makes a point about all works of art; Shelley wants us to see beyond the greatness of the king for which the statue was erected, and appreciate the beauty of the thing itself, not what should be represented.  His main contention being that when a craftsman’s heart and soul is poured into a work, its construction is a thing of beauty and will outlive &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed”&lt;/span&gt; (8).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-8877058942285311455?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/8877058942285311455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=8877058942285311455&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8877058942285311455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8877058942285311455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/theme-in-shelleys-ozymandias.html' title='Theme in Shelley&apos;s &quot;Ozymandias&quot;'/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05903191117554959603</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2N9aiIl1rMQ/S1Ca7U-lGfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mAo0usk5yEo/S220/HolyGrail166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-6358536380286246909</id><published>2010-03-30T03:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T03:07:24.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Barbie Doll</title><content type='html'>To flip the poem Barbie Doll to a man's persona, I would change the title to GI Joe. It essentially houses the same aspects of Barbie Doll, only in the social condition of the male sex. The GI Joe represents strength, dexterity, courage and smarts. Where the female is supposed to be thin, and beautiful with perfect bodily distribution and gorgeous hair, a GI Joe doll is handsome, tall, lean and muscular. To reflect other socially acceptable and expected aspects of males, I would use the diction of words like Varsity, Protector, and possible some phrases like "taking out the trash" and "bringing home the bacon." I enjoy looking at this from both angles, because while women do have a lot put on their shoulders with the gorgeous models and everything being about image, young and old men have the same thing going for them. Many young men are always hearing things like" You are a winner, NOT a loser." Not with the loving authoritative voice of a parent or friend though. It's just as hard for men to meet the expectations put upon that as it is for women.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-6358536380286246909?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/6358536380286246909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=6358536380286246909&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/6358536380286246909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/6358536380286246909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/barbie-doll_30.html' title='Barbie Doll'/><author><name>kimberly_larson3</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13055726923279264427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mUKcGr6X__4/S0wuJD5q2aI/AAAAAAAAAAM/d2XKZzf643M/S220/Elijah+and+mom.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-7039448609178960185</id><published>2010-03-30T02:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T02:58:51.182-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ozymandias'</title><content type='html'>The theme that nothing remains in the short poem, Ozymandias' is apparent throughout quite a few lines.  In line 10, Ozymandias exclaims "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings, Look on my woks, ye mighty, and despair!" It implies that Ozymandias thought that he was the ruler and that he would reign forever, but from the beginning to the end of the poem, all that he had has perished. Throughout the poem are words like sunk and decay and wreck which imply to me that Ozymandias has become but a mere thought, and that his work has perished with time. In the last two lines of the poem, "Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, The lone and level sands stretch far away." It paints a picture in my mind that everything that Ozymandias built, has become nothing but a wreckage in the sand. Nothing left of the ruler but a pile of rubble. The one thing to outlast his work were merely his words. "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings!" but he had nothing left to show for it but a mass of decay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-7039448609178960185?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/7039448609178960185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=7039448609178960185&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7039448609178960185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7039448609178960185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/ozymandias_30.html' title='Ozymandias&apos;'/><author><name>kimberly_larson3</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13055726923279264427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mUKcGr6X__4/S0wuJD5q2aI/AAAAAAAAAAM/d2XKZzf643M/S220/Elijah+and+mom.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-5009528865724327635</id><published>2010-03-29T23:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T23:27:40.373-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Barbie Doll"</title><content type='html'>This poem is obviously written to appeal to women. It describes very clearly the struggles that most young girls go through on their journey to become a woman. It would be a very different poem however, if it were written with young men in mind. "Barbie Doll" focuses on a girl struggle with how her physical appearance is. Many young men do not have issues with things like a "great big nose and fat legs" (6). For boys, it would be more about acheiving something having to do with athletics I think. Boys can feel so much pressure to excel at sports and be the best. They also may have some pressure to get girls and do tough "manly" things. I can imagine that boys would be very mean to other boys that don't live up to those standards. In high school, I remember that the boys who werent very good at getting girls would be teased endlessly. I think that if this poem was written about a boy, the diction should be just about the same. The formal style suits the seriousness of this poem well. I can see throwing a little informality in however, because thats how young men talk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-5009528865724327635?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/5009528865724327635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=5009528865724327635&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5009528865724327635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5009528865724327635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/barbie-doll_7261.html' title='&quot;Barbie Doll&quot;'/><author><name>ewallgren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04838947215583290566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-7124663713240741906</id><published>2010-03-29T22:58:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T23:15:03.152-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"My Last Duchess"</title><content type='html'>The speaker in "My Last Duchess" does not sound like a very nice man. It seems to me that he is much like many other men who thought they were important back in those days. There seems to be many stories of kings or dukes trying to take control of the people around them, like their wives, and then doing horrible things to them if they are not happy. Although the duke is not a very nice man, he may be a very smart man. He uses his words very well to tell his story while letting the listener think that he isn't bragging about anything. He pretends to be a very happy, good natured man but some of his true character is showing through.&lt;br /&gt;         The duke is telling this story to a man who is there trying to arrange a marriage for the duke. The duke may be trying to impress him with his words and the story. It also may be a sort of warning for his future wife. The duke believed that his wife was acting inapropriately. He did not want her to give any person the attention that he felt he deserved for "My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name" (33). He let the man know that he made the behavior stop using force "then all the smiles stopped together" (46). He was probably very proud of what he had done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-7124663713240741906?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/7124663713240741906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=7124663713240741906&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7124663713240741906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7124663713240741906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-last-duchess_29.html' title='&quot;My Last Duchess&quot;'/><author><name>ewallgren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04838947215583290566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-1221416755021164828</id><published>2010-03-29T15:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T15:32:24.051-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Barbie Doll</title><content type='html'>"Barbie Doll" by Marge Piercy is a poem that describes the troubles that almost all young girls face sometime throughout the years. In a society that is constantly judging woman about their weight, clothing, career, children and beauty, it's no wonder why so many girls grow up to have disorders and commit suicide. Now, flipping this around and looking at men from a social view, things are a bit different but a lot the same too. If this poem were to be based on boys growing up, I may call it "GI Joe" or "Transformers" to show the strength that boys gain over time. I would include the different obstacles that boys face in order to become young men. Boys have an obligation to impress girls, keep good grades, have nice clothes, have tons of friends, be a great athlete and all along look sharp while doing it. Boys aren't judged so much on their weight as girls but will unfortunately face sarcastic remarks from classmates if this is the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had two friends that committed suicide while growing up, one female and one male. The crazy thing is, they were both over popularity and impressing the opposite sex.  It's sad to see how cruel this world is on growing teenagers. But, in reality it's both females and males that have to overcome serious self esteem issues that are faced daily.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-1221416755021164828?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/1221416755021164828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=1221416755021164828&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1221416755021164828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1221416755021164828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/barbie-doll_9696.html' title='Barbie Doll'/><author><name>carly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00648421383120096515</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VesMMYcZBts/S0o1VI4SYCI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uMzUidN-Yo4/S220/yub.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-1145271756565628520</id><published>2010-03-29T14:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T15:09:55.101-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ozymandias</title><content type='html'>"Ozymandias" by Percy Bysshe Shelley portrays a theme that nothing lasts. Anyone would think that of all the items that can last, a statue should stand up strong to pretty much anything. But, on this decaying statue, there were words; "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty and despair! Nothing besides remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away. (Shelley) Ozymandias thought that after a great king like himself died, this statue would live on forever in his memory. Little did he know, that over time even statues begin to decay and this once known landmark would soon be forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thought and memories of people live on forever. Regardless of a statue or significant artifact, memories will always outlast everything around them. Let's just hope were all remembered for the good things we have done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-1145271756565628520?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/1145271756565628520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=1145271756565628520&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1145271756565628520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1145271756565628520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/ozymandias_1944.html' title='Ozymandias'/><author><name>carly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00648421383120096515</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VesMMYcZBts/S0o1VI4SYCI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uMzUidN-Yo4/S220/yub.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-7720058093209589199</id><published>2010-03-29T11:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T11:12:52.945-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ozymandias</title><content type='html'>Imagery reinforces this poem’s theme by creating a mental image in the reader’s head that there was a statue, built years ago, but as time moves forward, eventually, nothing is left standing. “I met a traveler from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone, Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, and wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command…Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare”. (Shelley) This quote gives the reader the image of what the statue was in its past glory, and what it looks like today. Using different speakers in the poem also adds irony to the poem. On the pedestal the words, “My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!” (Shelley) The creator of the statue wanted to make people fear him as if he were a god. However, as what happens to all things on earth, Ozymandias died, along with his statue which was unable to stand the test of time. The only thing that is able to outlast this poem is time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-7720058093209589199?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/7720058093209589199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=7720058093209589199&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7720058093209589199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7720058093209589199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/ozymandias_29.html' title='Ozymandias'/><author><name>Jacob_Smith3</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00914602708241895312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-5754127555542191807</id><published>2010-03-29T11:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T11:11:39.555-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Barbie Doll</title><content type='html'>In the poem “Barbie Doll” by Marge Piercy, a young girl begins her life like any other young girl would; loving to play with dolls, wanting put on makeup like mom, and playing with miniature ovens and stoves. Unfortunately, as she became older, peer pressure from classmates, friends, and sometimes even parents, began to shape her attitude toward herself. “She went to and fro apologizing. Everyone Saw a fat nose on thick legs…Her good nature wore out like a fan belt. So she cut off her nose and her legs and offered them up.” (Piercy) We have all heard on the radio, seen on T.V. and read in the newspaper and in magazines, we have to look like this, talk like that, or act a certain way in order to fit into society. It really is no different for young men. We experience the same peer pressure and social norms that are displayed in “Barbie Doll”. We are shaped by the kinds of friends we surround ourselves with, and usually end up acting the same as our friends.&lt;br /&gt;     If I were to rewrite this essay, I would have to name it “Ken Doll”. I would name it this because the Ken Doll, like the Barbie Doll, epitomizes what a young man, by society’s standards, should look like. According to society, we should all have broad muscular shoulders, a six pack, wavy blond hair, blue eyes, and all around dashing good looks. Unfortunately, we aren’t all like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-5754127555542191807?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/5754127555542191807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=5754127555542191807&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5754127555542191807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5754127555542191807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/barbie-doll_29.html' title='Barbie Doll'/><author><name>Jacob_Smith3</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00914602708241895312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-3706973026083677333</id><published>2010-03-29T06:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T06:11:53.893-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Barbie Doll" Re-Write</title><content type='html'>If one were to pen a poem for men similar to “Barbie Doll” by Marge Piercy, one could not use the standards of superficial beauty to measure the male experience.  Therefore, you would have to pick a different paradigm to measure against; a Greek hero would be a more fitting archetype, one embodying heroism, strength, and standing, all of the things men should ideally represent.  This poem would be called “Here Stands Hercules.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For this to be true to form, the diction of the great Greek poets would have to be used.  A scheme similar to Homer’s “Odyssey” and “Iliad” would be more than appropriate as he is a character in the later.  Formal diction would, of course, be used to convey the heroic yet ironic tone, contrasting how while a man might wish to be all of the ideals set forth by Hercules, the reality of strength is different than in tales.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The character of Hercules would be a perfect example of what men are expected to be, but should never strive to be.  We all know of his parentage, a product of the union of the king of the Olympian gods, Zeus, and his human mother Alcmene.  This would be one image to present an unobtainable male ideal; strength and power of a god balanced with the frailty and imperfection of humanity.  Next would come the twelve labors and how they relate to the tasks set before men.  Many times they take on these labors knowing that they are impossible and that there may be dire consequences should they fail.  Then finally the madness of Hercules, where after defeating a great opponent and being a shining example of men, his reward is madness and to destroy the thing he loves most, his family.  In true heroic fashion, instead of being exiled by his people, our hero goes into self exile because of his inability to forgive himself and to live up to his own principles, a theme many men can relate to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-3706973026083677333?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/3706973026083677333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=3706973026083677333&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3706973026083677333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3706973026083677333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/barbie-doll-re-write.html' title='&quot;Barbie Doll&quot; Re-Write'/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05903191117554959603</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2N9aiIl1rMQ/S1Ca7U-lGfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mAo0usk5yEo/S220/HolyGrail166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-7143642763242378036</id><published>2010-03-28T21:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T21:36:49.644-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tone In Porphyria's Lover</title><content type='html'>The tone in Porphyria’s Lover is a dark, depressing tone. In the very first line one could tell that it was going to be a sad poem. “The rain set early in to-night,” ( Browning, Line 1), generally rain is setting a person up for sadness. As the poem goes on depressing tone does not improve until about 15 lines later and the tone changes to more of a loving or adoring tone as he describes her. Then after line 21 it is back to depressing and dark again, then in lines 31-35 it is a bright and happy tone as “Happy and proud; at last I knew” (Browning line 31) is said it gives the reader a light of brightness for a quick second before the poem goes back to its depressing tone. Then as the poem goes on a sense of possessiveness happens as he talks about how she is all his and then as he is talking about winding her hair around her neck. Overall this poem has a very dark depressing tone and in the end the reader can see why it is so depressing.&lt;br /&gt;Jennifer Haverkamp&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-7143642763242378036?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/7143642763242378036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=7143642763242378036&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7143642763242378036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7143642763242378036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/tone-in-porphyrias-lover.html' title='Tone In Porphyria&apos;s Lover'/><author><name>JenniferH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03051338298976964490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-1013584387101168279</id><published>2010-03-28T20:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T20:59:59.277-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Theme in Porphyria's Lover&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The theme in Porphyria’s Lover, by Robert Browning, is developed by an alluring name and beginning. There is a terrible storm going on outside, perhaps the reason the speaker seems distraught, like he is contemplating something. “I listened with heart fit to break. When glided in Porphyria; straight” (lines 5 &amp; 6) The speaker was worried his lover would not care enough about him to come out in a storm to see him.&lt;br /&gt; Once she is there he changes his attitude quick. “So, she was come through wind and rain” (line 30). Suddenly the speaker is very sure of himself. He now knows that she loves him. “Happy and proud; at last I knew Porphyria worshipped me; surprise (lines 32 &amp; 33) Now that he is convinced that he has her undivided affection, he doesn’t want it to end. It is too perfect in his eyes to stay this way, so he finds a way to keep her perfect for him. “In one long yellow string I wound Three times her little throat around, And strangled her. No pain felt she” (lines 39 – 41); The speaker has convinced himself that strangling her was the right thing to do and that he caused her no pain.&lt;br /&gt; He also thinks that this is what Porphyria secretly wanted. This way they could always be together. “That all is scorned at once is fled, And I, its love am gained instead” (lines 54 &amp; 55)! The speaker is happy that Porphyria is at his side and convinced that they will now share the perfect love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-1013584387101168279?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/1013584387101168279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=1013584387101168279&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1013584387101168279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1013584387101168279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/theme-in-porphyrias-lover-theme-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Suzie Pahl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13917414614851906633</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-8833308315735605014</id><published>2010-03-28T13:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T13:32:48.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Irony in "Porphyria's Lover"</title><content type='html'>In “Porphyria’s Lover” by Robert Browning, the poet utilizes irony to convey the theme of the poem.  The speaker tells a story of love and passion, but really it is a story about the speaker unnoticeably murdering his lover. As the monologue progresses throughout, it becomes apparent to the reader that the speaker is a psychopathic killer. The speaker first believes that Porphyria is too weak to let go and love him, “Too weak, for all her heart’s endeavour, / To set its struggling passion free” (Browning 720). He then convinces himself that she finally does love him, “Happy and proud; at last I knew/ Porphyria worshipped me; surprise” (720). At this point it is clear that he is an obsessive man because, instead of enjoying the time he is spending with her he ponders what to do to her. The speaker wants to hold her perfection and love forever so he strangles her with her own hair. He assures the silent listener that he did it for a good cause and she felt no pain; “Three times her little throat around, / And strangled her. No pain felt she;” (720). He believes that by murdering her, he is able to make her happy and fulfill “Her darling one wish” (720). It is ironic how the speaker is able to stay calm in a straightforward manner while remaining unaware of his deranged actions.  The title of this poem is sarcastic and ironic as well—“Porphyria’s Lover”. It is apparent that he is not her lover, she is his. The speaker has made Porphyria into his lover, forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erika Knutson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-8833308315735605014?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/8833308315735605014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=8833308315735605014&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8833308315735605014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8833308315735605014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/irony-in-porphyrias-lover.html' title='Irony in &quot;Porphyria&apos;s Lover&quot;'/><author><name>ErikaMae92</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14065940141634325860</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-2715926689820655174</id><published>2010-03-25T20:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T20:27:10.873-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Barbie Doll</title><content type='html'>If I were to rewrite this I would rename it “Ken Doll” just because it would go with the Barbie doll theme and be quite similar to this poem but just about the males rather than females. I never really thought about the pressures a boy might have because I am not a boy, but when I did think about it they have just as much pressure put on them. The pressure isn’t so much about looks as it is with girls I’d say but with strength. They are supposed to like outdoorsy type things and not be sensitive like girls are. They are expected to play with trucks and get dirty. The images I would like to present to the reader would be how men are supposed to be strong and muscular, and that not every man in the world is strong and muscular or likes going outside and doing things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-2715926689820655174?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/2715926689820655174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=2715926689820655174&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2715926689820655174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2715926689820655174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/barbie-doll_25.html' title='Barbie Doll'/><author><name>JenniferH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03051338298976964490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-4947477606356401489</id><published>2010-03-24T19:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T19:52:51.679-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ozymandias</title><content type='html'>The poem “Ozymandias” develops the theme that nothing lasts because it gives more of a depressing tone. It has a sort of sadness about it. The imagery used in this poem that reinforces this theme is when “Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, who’s frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things ( lines 4-7). Those lines give the reader an image of an old statue that has been broken for a long time. The various speakers in this poem give the reader more of a sense as to what is going on, when the poem says “My name is Ozymandieas, king of kings!”( line 10) , you see who the statue is and why it is there. I do believe in this poem the author is saying that stone outlasts life, as stone can be broken and or sink into the ground but it will most likely always be there where as life must come to an end at some point.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-4947477606356401489?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/4947477606356401489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=4947477606356401489&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4947477606356401489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4947477606356401489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/ozymandias_24.html' title='Ozymandias'/><author><name>JenniferH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03051338298976964490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-4557299440969438106</id><published>2010-03-21T13:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T13:03:46.460-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Barbie Doll"</title><content type='html'>I wouldn’t have thought that males have the same pressures to look good as females do. However, the Ken Barbie doll has some abs and nice looking biceps, representing the ideal man—strong and handsome. From day one, boys are expected to be boys. They are given Tonka trucks, get to play in mud, and are given guns and ATV’s when they are old enough. However, what if this boy did not want to play in the mud or go hunting? Now he is challenging society, his parent’s expectations, and all social norms. This is much like the peer pressure females face with their appearance. However, males could have more peer pressure haunting them because females are not very often frowned upon if they would rather go hunting than shopping.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had to rewrite this poem to reflect the experience of a young man, the title would be “So I don’t like to go hunting?” or something like that. It would be more based on the expectations presented to a young man that happens to be gay. The peer pressure to be masculine would eat him apart and have a bad ending, much like in “Barbie Doll”. I would use informal diction to make the poem be read like a story, just as it is in the female version. This would force the reader to give the poem a dramatic outline and be thought about in all seriousness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-4557299440969438106?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/4557299440969438106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=4557299440969438106&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4557299440969438106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4557299440969438106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/barbie-doll_21.html' title='&quot;Barbie Doll&quot;'/><author><name>ErikaMae92</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14065940141634325860</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-4670529288039035830</id><published>2010-03-20T20:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T20:38:34.938-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Option B: "My Last Duchess"</title><content type='html'>The speaker in “My Last Duchess”, by Robert Browning reveals himself to be a possessive and jealous man. The speaker is a duke that is trying to arrange a marriage with the count through the word of an emissary. His last wife died and he keeps the painting of her hidden for no one else to see but himself, which proves he is obsessive of her. The duke realized that the painter caught a special look on his wife’s face and doesn’t like that either, because that look should be only for him to see. He claims his wife had a heart “too soon made glad”, “Too easily impressed” (line 22). The duke’s tone and choice of words suggest that his state of mind is a complexity of selfish, controlling, and obsessive thoughts and actions. Everyone smiled back at her whenever she smiled. “Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt,/Whenever I passed her; but who passed without the same smile?” (43-45). He couldn’t handle seeing the attention she got from others so he “gave commands” and “all smiles stopped together” He only shares information with the emissary that he wants to be taken back to the count, making himself look like a good man; however, the readers see otherwise. The duke claims to be an unskilled speaker, “Even had you skill in speech—(which I have not)—to make your will” (35-36). Even so, he cleverly turns the conversation around with the emissary at his own advantage to look impressive, proving to be a selfish man with not only his wife but with everything he does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erika Knutson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-4670529288039035830?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/4670529288039035830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=4670529288039035830&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4670529288039035830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4670529288039035830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/option-b-my-last-duchess.html' title='Option B: &quot;My Last Duchess&quot;'/><author><name>ErikaMae92</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14065940141634325860</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-1474589437094148560</id><published>2010-03-18T11:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T11:39:01.211-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Theme of "To His Coy Mistress"</title><content type='html'>The theme in this poem is pretty apparent. The speaker in the poem is in love with a lady who does not return his love and affection. She is determined to keep her virginity and to ignore his persistence towards her. “I would love you ten years before the Flood, and you should, if you please, refuse till the conversion of the Jews” (Andrew Marvell, lines 9-10).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The speaker is trying to tell the lady that her beauty will not last forever and that her stubbornness would be for nothing. “But at my back I always hear time’s winged chariot hurrying near” (21-22). He tells her that saving herself will not do her any good in the end. “And your quaint honor turned to dust” (29). He wants the lady to give into him while she is still young and beautiful. He will no longer want her when she is old. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The poem ends with the speaker trying to convince the lady once more to be his lover. “Now therefore, while the youthful hue sits on thy skin like morning glue” (33-34), “Now let us sport us while we may” (37). The poem does not say whether the lady gives in or not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-1474589437094148560?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/1474589437094148560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=1474589437094148560&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1474589437094148560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1474589437094148560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/theme-of-to-his-coy-mistress.html' title='Theme of &quot;To His Coy Mistress&quot;'/><author><name>Hannah Jo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02968468187821742804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-4033336583037025583</id><published>2010-03-17T17:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T17:47:07.309-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Last Duchess</title><content type='html'>In My Last Douchess, by Robert Browning, the speaker starts off as a nice man. He slowly shows attitude as the poem goes on and also displays what a jealous man he is. “Her husband’s presence only, called that spot” (Browning, line 14) The speaker seems annoyed that his wife, in her portrait, gave the painter her special look. He thought that she should only share this with him. &lt;br /&gt; The speaker is a duke who lost his wife to death. He is a control freak who is looking for a new wife. As he describes his former wife, the duchess, he shows just how jealous of a man he is. “Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule” (28) He shows how displeased he is by other men trying to impress her. &lt;br /&gt; The speaker’s tone suggests that he is a rude man. He cares for nobody else’s happiness, but his own. “Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands; Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands” (45 &amp; 46) The speaker seems like he liked to bring his duchess down a few pegs, he didn’t want her to be walking around smiling.&lt;br /&gt; He is talking to an emissary. He wants the emissary to arrange a marriage between the Duke’s daughter and himself. “Though his fair daughter’s self, as I vowed” (52) I am not sure how convincing he has been though, the emissary probably saw what kind of husband he was to the douches and assumed that he would be the same to the counts daughter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-4033336583037025583?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/4033336583037025583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=4033336583037025583&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4033336583037025583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4033336583037025583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-last-duchess.html' title='My Last Duchess'/><author><name>Suzie Pahl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13917414614851906633</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-7702531067935624019</id><published>2010-03-17T15:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T15:35:29.070-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>GQ Doll&lt;br /&gt;The poem Barbie Doll,written by Marge Piercy, is written for the female aspects of struggling to be a Barbie doll. This poem can easily be flipped to show Ken dolls side of the story. The boys have the same pressures as girls do, but in some ways even more. They have to prove that they are strong to their class mates to be respected. I don't know to many popular wimpy guys. Parents expect their boys to be stronger emotionally then they do their girls also. I don't think they have as much pressure to be thin as girls but they still do have some pressure. The body builder probably gets more dates than the really nice chubby guy.&lt;br /&gt;If I had to rewrite the Barbie Doll poem to reflect the male Ken Doll I would name it the GQ Doll. GQ is a magazine for handsome men with perfect bodies and features, exactly what is expected of the Ken and Barbie dolls. &lt;br /&gt;I would present the GQ doll as the perfect looking man. He would have a beautiful body, very defined and muscular with no fat. GQ would be tall, have nice hair, perfectly white and straight teeth. He would also be wearing a very revealing outfit to show off his gorgeous muscles. GQ would also be a stressed out man because he would have to constantly work out and diet.&lt;br /&gt;The GQ doll poem would be composed mainly of informal diction. I don’t see any reason to try to fancy up the words. After all, I would be describing a man with a perfect outside and a sad inside. I think the easier it is to follow the better my readers would connect with my descriptions of this gorgeous and distraught man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-7702531067935624019?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/7702531067935624019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=7702531067935624019&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7702531067935624019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7702531067935624019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/gq-doll-poem-barbie-dollwritten-by.html' title=''/><author><name>Suzie Pahl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13917414614851906633</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-7569658136629552803</id><published>2010-03-17T10:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T10:44:39.568-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Barbie Doll</title><content type='html'>The poem “Barbie Doll” by Marge Piercy is a very feminist poem. However, it can also be applied to boys if it is just tweaked here and there. Often times we don’t think of boys as having problems with peer pressure and the way they look, but they do. The hardest think for boys though is the emotional aspect of life. As a society we believe boys to be the tougher, stronger sex. We expect them to always have the answer, to never cry and always be stronger than women. Girls can play with boy toys without getting teased. If a boy picks up a doll, before long the whole daycare will be laughing at him. Girls can cry whenever they want and it is not looked at as being abnormal. If a guy cries, he is thought of as weak or a mama’s boy.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;If I wanted to rewrite this poem for a boy, my title would be, “Superman,” because Superman always saves the day and is never hurt for long. He also never cries and has muscles that no one can ever achieve the healthy way. This brings up another point. We tend to think that girls are the ones that struggle with body issues and having to look a certain way. I think boys struggle with this as well. Look at all the male super heroes. They are all ripped! They all have broad shoulders and look very manly (even though they wear their underwear over their TIGHTS!). In my poem I would write about male super heroes and how they affect little boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you’re a girl or if you’re a boy; it doesn’t matter, you are still going to go through peer pressure and pressure from our society on what the cultural norm is. Boys go through just as much problems with body issues and self-images as girls do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-7569658136629552803?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/7569658136629552803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=7569658136629552803&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7569658136629552803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7569658136629552803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/barbie-doll.html' title='Barbie Doll'/><author><name>Hannah Jo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02968468187821742804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-6610900462042319694</id><published>2010-03-17T10:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T10:30:10.370-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ozymandias</title><content type='html'>In the poem “Ozymandias” by Percy Bysshe Shelley there is a theme that nothing lasts. This is shown by the shattering of the statue that once stood tall. “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone stand in the dessert” (Shelley 721). The statue or sculpture has been destroyed somewhere along the line. “Half sunk, a shattered visage lies” (721). The sculptor of the sculpture was very proud of his work. He wrote on a pedestal, ‘”My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: look on my works, ye Might, and despair!’” (721). He was very proud of his sculpture. Obviously, the sculpture could not stand the test of time and is now broken and decaying in the dessert. It is no longer a proud sculpture, but broken pieces in the sand. The one thing in the poem that can stand the test of time is this; the passionate words the sculptor spoke while he was sculpting. “tell that its sculptor well those passions read which yet survive” (721). There are several different speakers in this poem. The poem starts out with an unknown speaker who met a traveler. Then, the traveler talks about the sculptor. Lastly, the sculptor’s voice is heard. This contributes to the theme because the first two men are talking about something in the past that did not last.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-6610900462042319694?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/6610900462042319694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=6610900462042319694&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/6610900462042319694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/6610900462042319694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/03/ozymandias.html' title='Ozymandias'/><author><name>Hannah Jo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02968468187821742804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-4642768994259007158</id><published>2010-02-23T23:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T23:28:44.478-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Doe Season Question 3</title><content type='html'>Andy grew up living close to these woods, so when she went hunting, she felt like she was at home in her back yard. When she looks to the ocean, she says, "That was the first time [I] had seen the ocean and it scared [me"(Kaplan 459).The ocean was new to her, she didn't grow up with it in her back yard. She was frightened of it. The hunting trip was a lot like the ocean to her. She was going from childhood to adulthood, killing and gutting her first dear. You can tell she was kind of regretful of shooting the deer by saying, "What have I done?" (465). But later, cutting the doe with knife to make the transitioned into adulthood.The sense of pride she had at the end of the story, even though she seemed as if she regretted it at first, that she had finally grown up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-4642768994259007158?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/4642768994259007158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=4642768994259007158&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4642768994259007158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4642768994259007158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/doe-season-question-3_4565.html' title='Doe Season Question 3'/><author><name>salwei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10506447230980798674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-9098975359162666821</id><published>2010-02-23T23:06:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T23:06:48.637-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Doe Season</title><content type='html'>On Andy’s hunting trip, she makes a transition from childhood to adulthood.  In the beginning Andy talks about the woods as “…the same woods that lay behind her house…they stretch all the way to here” (Kaplan 456).  She finds comfort in this because it is familiar to her; the woods behind her house are familiar to her.  Thinking of the woods as being the same made her feel good, “it was like thinking of God; it was like thinking of the space between here and the moon” (456).  The woods represent her childhood, the same, familiar, and comfortable.  As they walk through the woods the sound of the branches swaying in the wind reminds her of the ocean, when her parents had taken her there the summer before.  Andy describes the ocean as “…huge and empty yet always moving.  Everything lay hidden” (459).  In the end when it comes time to “gut” the deer, she takes the plunge into adulthood, as she runs away and they call to her.  “Yet louder than any of them was the wind blowing through the treetops, like the ocean where her mother floated in green water, also calling Come in, come in while all around her roared the mocking of the  terrible, now inevitable, sea” (467).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-9098975359162666821?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/9098975359162666821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=9098975359162666821&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/9098975359162666821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/9098975359162666821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/doe-season_1306.html' title='Doe Season'/><author><name>Sarah Shuck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05378864358901834770</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-9189947728426561492</id><published>2010-02-23T22:03:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T22:37:11.367-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Chrysanthemums"</title><content type='html'>In the story “The Chrysanthemums” by John Steinbeck I believe that the name itself is symbolic of the type of person that women of that time, like Elisa, strive to be. This flower is said to have meanings such as perfection, optimism and joy. In that era that is the type of person that most women have been portrayed as striving to be (perfect, optimistic and joyous). They all want to be the perfect wife or the perfect mother. I think back to some of the stories I have read or movies I have seen from this time and it seems to me as if this is what most of the wives or mothers try to imitate. &lt;br /&gt;In the beginning of the story it states &lt;em&gt;“Her figure blocked and heavy in her gardening costume, a man’s black hat pulled low down over her eyes, clod-hopper shoes, a figured print dress almost completely covered by a big corduroy apron with four big pockets to hold the snips….”&lt;/em&gt; (p. 632, Kirszner &amp; Mandell). When thinking of women in this era I feel that an apron is also a symbol of the so-called perfect wife or mother.  I think that they wore the aprons to hide their figures, as stated in this sentence. Most women of this time were sexually repressed and reserved their figures only to be seen by their husbands so most of the day was spent wearing an apron. I rarely see an apron worn in this day and age as women tend to be freer with their expression of themselves and no longer feel they need to hide under the strings of an apron. Also, women of this time spent most of the day doing the cooking and cleaning which the apron was also needed for so they didn’t get their clothes dirty.  In more modern times the chores are usually split amongst the household or hired help is used.  &lt;br /&gt;Toward the end of the story it states &lt;em&gt;“And then she scrubbed herself with a little block of pumice, legs and thighs, loins and chest and arms, until her skin was scratched and red.”&lt;/em&gt; (p. 638) while she was taking a hot bath before going to dinner with her husband. I feel this is saying that Elisa felt “dirty” after talking to the stranger about something she loved so dearly – her gardening. This was a topic that she usually reserved for her husband and by taking a hot bath and scrubbing so hard she was washing all of the conversation with the man away. Her husband stated that she was looking and acting like a whole new person after these events. The stranger threw her for a loop and I think that it may have changed her outlook about her womanly role for just a short moment of time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-9189947728426561492?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/9189947728426561492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=9189947728426561492&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/9189947728426561492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/9189947728426561492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/in-story-chrysanthemums-by-john.html' title='&quot;The Chrysanthemums&quot;'/><author><name>lisaking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02444566824779731316</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-1713149161689172211</id><published>2010-02-23T22:03:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T22:25:13.562-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Doe Season"</title><content type='html'>Childhood to many is a very familiar thing. Life is comfortable when you are a child. The daily routine is the same, your parents are always there for you and provide for you. When she talks about the woods always being the same it is like a comfort to her. Familiar things are always a comfort at any age. When she describes how the ocean is huge and empty and everything lay hidden that is like adulthood. After you reach adulthood you don't know what to expect out in the "ocean" of life. In adulthood you never know when you will be swept away by something whether it be getting into drugs or getting an amazing job, same as with the ocean you can be swept away at any moment. The woods always being the same is a lot like childhood where things feel safe and familiar and the ocean is like adulthood where things can be frightening and unknown.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-1713149161689172211?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/1713149161689172211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=1713149161689172211&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1713149161689172211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1713149161689172211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/doe-season_3274.html' title='&quot;Doe Season&quot;'/><author><name>Ashley F</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14451156887616423444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-8006368574328100687</id><published>2010-02-23T21:19:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T21:21:10.777-06:00</updated><title type='text'>question 3</title><content type='html'>In “Doe Season” the protagonist, Andy is introduced to the concept of growing up. It is a transitional story about a young girl, and how influential the environment around her can be in regards to shaping her as a person. Several references are made in the story about how the woods are familiar, whereas the ocean is vast and mysterious. These two subjects suggest the transition that she has to make from childhood to adulthood. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andy thinks upon the woods that back her house, as she is driving with her dad and company to go deer hunting for the first time. She notes that the woods “stretch all the way to here…for  miles and miles…but they are the same woods” (Kirszner/Mandell pg 156). The woods represent her childhood, the familiar, the unchanging. No worries, no responsibilities other than to be a child. Later, the sea is referenced to adulthood, vast and mysterious.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The first time she saw the ocean, the unknown, “it frightened her. It was huge and empty, yet always moving. Everything lay hidden” (Kirszner/Mandell pg 459). Growing up is a frightening thought for a child. Everything would be up to you, and you wouldn’t know what to expect in the future. During a vacation to the Jersey Shore, Andy’s mother’s bikini top came loose, and that alluded to the fact that she would become a woman, amongst a sea of the unknown which is adulthood. The deer’s blood is a reference to a loss of innocence, and Andy, no longer completely a child, wishes to be called Andrea which further cements her transformation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-8006368574328100687?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/8006368574328100687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=8006368574328100687&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8006368574328100687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8006368574328100687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/question-3.html' title='question 3'/><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17618468215614676807</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7i7HrcccKG0/S06vvZH1aDI/AAAAAAAAAAU/HKB_HXQ6XKw/S220/DSC01483.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-1900065469141842161</id><published>2010-02-23T21:17:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T21:42:05.800-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Doe Season" #3</title><content type='html'>In the short story "Doe Season", Andy is a young girl who is going through some changes in her life. There comes a time in everyone's life when things start to change, whether we like it or not. Andy doesn't seem to realize in the beginning of the story that things will be changing. The changes kind of come to her all at once in the end. I think thats how change happens many times. She puts a lot of emphasis on the way the woods are always the same in the beginning of the story. She describes them as going on forever and "The thought made her feel good (456)", this seems to mean a lot to her and suggests that she likes things to be constant.&lt;br /&gt;        The ocean seems to be a mystery to her and thats why she doesn't like it. Many people are afraid of what they don't know. The woods reminds her of the ocean in a way "The wind . . . Blowing through the treetops, it sounded like the ocean (459)," this could be pointing to the fact that her life will change in the woods and she doesn't know it yet. The woods ended up being the place where a drastic change happened in her life. She thought she was safe there, but she had no idea what would happen. When she ended up shooting the doe, it pushed her right from childhood into adulthood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-1900065469141842161?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/1900065469141842161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=1900065469141842161&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1900065469141842161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1900065469141842161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/doe-season-3.html' title='&quot;Doe Season&quot; #3'/><author><name>ewallgren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04838947215583290566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-8565029176955964678</id><published>2010-02-23T21:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T21:59:39.490-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Doe Season"</title><content type='html'>In the story "Doe Season" by David Kaplan,  I do believe the woods and the ocean symbolize Andy's transition from childhood to adulthood. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Woods, "they were always the same woods"(Kaplan 456).  The woods are comfortable and unchanging like her childhood.  They were the same woods that lay behind her house, and they stretch all the way to here, she thought, for miles and miles, longer than I could walk in a day, or a week even, but they are still the same woods" (456).  Andy was very familiar with the woods and even though the forest was so large she was still comfortable.  This is alot like childhood, because your life is more routine and big decisions are usually made for you.  Life is just simply easier and less stressful.  Having loving parents like Andy's im sure helps this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the trip, Andy recalls her vacation to the New Jersey shore.  "That was the first time she'd seen the ocean, and it frightened her"(459).  "It was huge and empty, yet always moving.  Everything lay hidden"(459).  This is alot like her journey to adulthood and her experience of shooting her first deer, scary.  Life as an adult is always changing, and there are always  new challanges to face.  Life can be scary sometimes, you never know what tomorrow will bring.   Life is full of new experiences that can change your outlook.  Like how Andy's experience with hunting  changed her outlook and decision to no longer be "Andy".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-8565029176955964678?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/8565029176955964678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=8565029176955964678&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8565029176955964678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8565029176955964678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/doe-season_7999.html' title='&quot;Doe Season&quot;'/><author><name>Penny Lane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11768000330422917484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yzG959o_7VM/S1T9W2rJIhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mf7PG2mIaAU/S220/IMAG0345.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-524170869480265475</id><published>2010-02-23T20:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T20:08:36.106-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Doe Season" Question 3</title><content type='html'>In the story “Doe Season” by David Kaplan a young girl named Andy mentioned in the beginning “They were always the same woods…They were the same woods that lay behind her house, and they stretch all the way to here, for mile and miles, longer than I could walk in a day, or a week even, but they are still the same woods” (Kaplan, 456).  In my opinion, this means that at her stage in life it was unchanging and it was always the same and she liked it that way.  &lt;br /&gt;When she first visited the ocean, Andy was unsure of her surroundings.  “That was the first time she’d seen the ocean, and it frightened her.  It was huge and empty, yet always moving” (Kaplan, 459).  Andy wasn’t familiar with her surroundings; she wasn’t raised by the ocean so she didn’t feel the same in the ocean compared to the woods.  &lt;br /&gt;At the beginning of the story, Andy was a girl who was comfortable with the unchanging and familiar life she had but by the end she had grown; not quite a woman but not a child.  She realized, after the deer was cut right in front of her eyes, that her life can and will change but not always the way she wants.  Andy went into the woods a child and came out as an adult.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-524170869480265475?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/524170869480265475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=524170869480265475&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/524170869480265475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/524170869480265475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/doe-season-question-3_6518.html' title='&quot;Doe Season&quot; Question 3'/><author><name>Jamie Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14618126151543805523</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-1911650263526437869</id><published>2010-02-23T16:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T16:57:46.960-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Doe Season Question 3</title><content type='html'>In Andy’s childhood, everything is constant and the woods, as the book says, are a good picture of this. “They were riding over gentle hills, the woods on both sides now-the same woods, she knew, because she had been watching the whole way, even while she slept. They had been in her dreams, and she never lost sight of them.” (Kaplan 457) When I was a child, I would remember waking up everyday with a sense that everything was alright. There was nothing complicated, there was nothing that I couldn’t figure out and even if there was, I always had mom and dad to ask. Life was simple. Transitioning to adulthood is a whole new experience. “That was the first time she’d seen the ocean, and it frightened her. It was huge and empty, yet always moving. Everything lay hidden.”(459) The ocean is the image of adulthood, frighteningly empty because of the unknown. Life gets a lot more complicated when you reach adulthood. One has college decisions to make, professional decisions need to be made, and you wonder if you’ll ever get married. There are endless questions and possibilities and you no longer have mom and dad to make the decisions for you. When you get thrown into the giant sea of “the adult world”, life decisions are bigger, consequences of those decisions are greater and you have to figure everything out without the constant support base you had when you were young. Andy’s life is no different.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-1911650263526437869?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/1911650263526437869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=1911650263526437869&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1911650263526437869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1911650263526437869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/doe-season-question-3_23.html' title='Doe Season Question 3'/><author><name>Jacob_Smith3</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00914602708241895312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-3985038686865229992</id><published>2010-02-23T16:19:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T16:24:53.355-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Doe Season Q. 3</title><content type='html'>In the story Doe Season, Andy often refers to the woods as being always the same. This symbolizes the way a child can look home to find comfort that is unchanging. She has been, all her life, able to turn to her mother and her father for that comfort and support, something that she depends on. She also refers to the ocean as being unknown and ever-changing, describes being able to only see the surface, but not what you might step on if you put your foot in. This reference symbolizes adulthood. As adults, we don't have that familiar comfort to turn to, we are in a world that is ever changing and mysterious. Often, in the adult world, something might appear to be a good idea until you put your foot in and step into a heap of trouble. Throughout the story, Andy thinks she smells the ocean, although it's hundreds of miles away. This is a way of saying that she senses change coming, but she continues to doubt the approaching adulthood. The very end of the story goes on to further emphasize this comparison by describing her running away from the familiar people on the hunting trip while "all around her roared the mocking of the terrible, now inevitable, sea".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-3985038686865229992?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/3985038686865229992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=3985038686865229992&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3985038686865229992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3985038686865229992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/doe-season-q-3.html' title='Doe Season Q. 3'/><author><name>Ninners</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372776012414770090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-78160826828156233</id><published>2010-02-23T11:01:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T11:29:35.098-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Doe Season"</title><content type='html'>In David Kaplan’s “Doe Season” there is a young girl named Andy that accidently reaches a growing point in her life while hunting with her father and friends. She refers to the woods they are hunting in as “always the same.”  While in the woods, Andy remembers the ocean she visited with her parents. “It was huge and empty, yet always moving. Everything lay hidden.” (Kaplan, p. 459) When we are children, there is a sense of security in knowing where our next meal will come from and that there will be clothes on our backs. But, going into adulthood, we soon come to realize that we are now taking care of ourselves. It’s a huge change and it happens quite abruptly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe Andy is very unsure of the world around her, as was I at age 9. There is a nation full of mystery, yet, most we can’t see with our eyes. This is a lot like the ocean. It seems so empty, but there is a whole new depth of life living there, we just can’t see it. I felt this way change and new places as a child and still do sometimes. There is so much in this world that we don’t know about; it’s a scary thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Andy referring to the woods as “always the same” tells me that it’s a comforting place for her to be. She grew up in these woods, they don’t frighten her. But, by the end of the story, as her doe is being gut out right before her eyes, everything changes. She no longer will look at the woods the same and this is where her transition occurred. Andy is no longer a little girl anymore and she knows it. She has seen death, and there is a world full of new things for her to face next.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-78160826828156233?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/78160826828156233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=78160826828156233&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/78160826828156233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/78160826828156233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/doe-season_23.html' title='&quot;Doe Season&quot;'/><author><name>carly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00648421383120096515</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VesMMYcZBts/S0o1VI4SYCI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uMzUidN-Yo4/S220/yub.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-2144096065363164853</id><published>2010-02-23T08:32:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T08:43:20.873-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Symobolism in "The Chrysanthemums"</title><content type='html'>In the John Steinbach’s story, “The Chrysanthemums”, the main symbol of the story is flowers in which he uses to symbolize her thoughts and ideas.  A lonely woman, Eliza Allan, enjoys growing and nourishing her chrysanthemums.  They live a lonely isolated life, raising cattle, and Eliza doesn’t get much attention from her husband, or for that matter anyone.  She puts all her love and passion into the care of her chrysanthemums.  She tends to her flowers with great care and effort, which symbolizes the longing she has for her husband to love and care for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another symbol in this story is the fence that protects her flowers.  It surrounds her protected world, her flowers and garden, and the world she can control and nurture.  Eliza becomes interested in a traveling tinker, because he makes a big deal of her flowers, and she feels special because of it.  She blossoms from the attention of the tinker, just like her flowers.  She ends up giving the tinker some of her plants and puts them in a pot for him, she then allows him to straighten some pots for her, pays him and he goes on his way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Eliza’s husband got home and saw her, he said “Why—why Elisa.  You look so nice!”  With her boost of confidence now, she says “Nice? You think I look nice?  What do you mean by ‘nice’? (Page 638) Eliza gets defensive and wonders why she just looks “nice”.  When Elisa sees her precious chrysanthemum on the ground, but without the pot she had put it in with such care.  She now feels used.  She was basically fooled into giving herself away to someone who showed some interest in her.  Her flowers symbolize this throughout the story.  The last sentence of the story, “She turned her coat collar so he could not see that she was crying weakly—like an old woman” (Page 639).  She has lost her confidence and her self-esteem to keep her head high in the air.  It is as if she is a wilted flower, cast aside to wither and die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kara Carpenter&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-2144096065363164853?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/2144096065363164853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=2144096065363164853&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2144096065363164853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2144096065363164853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/symobolism-in-chrysanthemums.html' title='Symobolism in &quot;The Chrysanthemums&quot;'/><author><name>Kara Carpenter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05819778438063676844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jCI6nWC4JFQ/S0osjgb_L6I/AAAAAAAAAAU/qS3QCCZk-FU/S220/5109_92056823018_740413018_1936193_1407623_s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-2822173921785333045</id><published>2010-02-22T23:49:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T23:56:14.146-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Right of Passage (Doe Season)</title><content type='html'>In the beginning of the story, Andy references the woods as, "always the same," and the ocean as, "huge and empty, yet always moving." Doesn't this sound familiar to you? I can remember when I was making the transition into adulthood and how eager I was about it. It seemed like I had been so childish for so long and it was time to face the wide open world as an adult. I didn't see these comparisons back then, much like Andy didn't see the hunting in all of it' s aspects. I thought that the world of being an adult was great in that it was like the ocean, wild and roaring and exciting! Now I look back and long for the safety of being a child, where everything was always the same. These two sentences alone can account for the theme as a whole in this story. They are an  incredibly well written way to explore the excitement along with the fear and possible disappointment of becoming an adult. Andy didn't get what she had bargained for out of this hunting trip, which is something that most of us can say at some point or other in out lives. Life can get scary, and we all face things that we are not quite ready to face, but that shapes us into the people that we are today, and I believe that hunting trip did exactly that for Andy. She realized at the end of the story that she was not the person she thought she was and after that she would never be the same again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-2822173921785333045?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/2822173921785333045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=2822173921785333045&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2822173921785333045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2822173921785333045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/right-of-passage-doe-season.html' title='Right of Passage (Doe Season)'/><author><name>kimberly_larson3</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13055726923279264427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mUKcGr6X__4/S0wuJD5q2aI/AAAAAAAAAAM/d2XKZzf643M/S220/Elijah+and+mom.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-568081280849675765</id><published>2010-02-22T18:04:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T18:13:16.367-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Doe Season" Question #3</title><content type='html'>David Michael Kaplan uses comparisons between the still, unchanging nature of the woods and the ever-changing scene of the ocean in his story “Doe Season” to mirror the transformation from child into adult.  In the story the main character of Andy goes through a transformative experience while on her first hunting trip with her father, when first in the woods she begins to reflect on the peaceful environment, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“They were always the same woods… deep and immense, covered with yesterday’s snowfall, which had frozen overnight”&lt;/span&gt; (Kaplan 456).  The imagery in these passages is used to represent the serenity of childhood and how it remains undisturbed and pristine. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“[I]t was like thinking of God; it was like thinking of the space between here and the moon” &lt;/span&gt;(Kaplan 456).  Kaplan uses this passage as a homily on childhood, comparing the open, untouched wilderness to all of the experiences and wonder that lie in wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In contrast, Andy’s thoughts of the ocean cast light on the theme of the ever evolving nature of adulthood in the story.  Facing the prospect of responsibility and the consequences that accompany it seems to be one theme that Mr. Kaplan wished to address, as shown by the allusion &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“That was the first time she’d seen the ocean, and it frightened her”&lt;/span&gt; (Kaplan 459).  The narration goes on to follow Andy’s internal description of the seaside showing the distinction between the way she sees these two scenarios and the metaphorical contexts they represent; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“Everything lay hidden.  If you walked in it, you couldn’t see how deep it was or what might be below; if you swam, something could pull you under and never be seen again.  It’s musky, rank smell made her think of things dying” &lt;/span&gt;(Kaplan 459).  Here the author uses the ocean as a symbolic reference to maturity’s varying complexities and often grotesque nature which inevitably leads to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After her prize kill, the woods seem to change for Andy into an idealized form of itself with dark overtones, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“The woods were more beautiful than she had ever seen them.  The moon made everything ice-rimmed glimmer with a crystallized, immanent light, while underneath that ice the branches of trees were stark as skeletons”&lt;/span&gt; (Kaplan 466).  This and the following scene seem to be a metaphor for Andy’s loss of innocence on her journey, maturing from a girl into a young woman and her desire to see and feel the way she did prior to these events.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-568081280849675765?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/568081280849675765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=568081280849675765&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/568081280849675765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/568081280849675765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/david-michael-kaplan-uses-comparisons.html' title='&quot;Doe Season&quot; Question #3'/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05903191117554959603</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2N9aiIl1rMQ/S1Ca7U-lGfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mAo0usk5yEo/S220/HolyGrail166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-5240796111355260868</id><published>2010-02-22T08:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T08:16:15.208-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Doe Season" question 3</title><content type='html'>In the story “Doe Season,” Andy goes hunting with her father for the first time.  As they drive in the car, Andy notices the woods.  “They were always the same woods” (Kaplan 456).  This may not seem significant at first, but it really is.  “They were riding over gentle hills, the woods on both sides now-the same woods, she knew, because she had been watching the whole way, even while she slept.  They had been in her dreams, and she had never lost sight of them” (457).  Andy is comforted by the words, because they are so familiar.  This symbolizes her childhood.  She is comfortable with her surroundings, because they are all she has ever known.  Nothing has changed in her life, everything is stable.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andy’s transition into adulthood is symbolized by the ocean.  “It was huge and empty, yet always moving.  Everything lay hidden” (459).  I think the world is being described in these sentences.  The world is a huge place and if you try to find happiness in it, all you will find is emptiness.  Many things in the world seem like they should bring us joy, but they really do not.  The consequences are hidden under a fake layer of pleasure.  “If you walked in it, you couldn’t see how deep it was or what might be below” (459).  Again, I believe this symbolizes the world.  None of us realize how deep we are into things, until we are right in the middle of it.  This happens to Andy.  At first, she thinks that she wants to shoot a deer.  “Please let us get a deer, she prayed” (462).  Andy does not realize what this really means until she actually kills the doe.  “What have I done? Andy thought” (464).  This is how life goes when we get older.  We no longer have parents to make choices for us.  We make our own and learn from our own mistakes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-5240796111355260868?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/5240796111355260868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=5240796111355260868&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5240796111355260868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5240796111355260868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/doe-season-question-3.html' title='&quot;Doe Season&quot; question 3'/><author><name>Hannah Jo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02968468187821742804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-3444123194338716349</id><published>2010-02-21T18:45:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T19:08:41.716-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Doe Season" Answer 3</title><content type='html'>In the beginning of the story Andy enjoys the outdoors and the wide range of the woods, how they went on for miles and the quietest of them. How she wanted to be with her father out in the woods hunting and hoping to see a deer. She enjoyed the closeness they had together, the bond of father and daughter and how he enjoyed her company, on the deer hunt.&lt;br /&gt;Life changed when she finally shot a deer and how she injured it and it ran away. Andy was so scared that the deer would suffer on her account. She so had wished it would of ran away, so she wouldn't of had to shoot at it or injure it, in anyway. She was happy that they found it dead and no more suffering become of the deer. Andy also realized that, hunting was not for her. She didn't have the bravery to kill an animal.&lt;br /&gt;Andy remembers her visit to the ocean, "how huge and empty, yet always moving. Everything lay hidden."(459) That is what she feels like now, after shooting the deer, empty. She realizes that she no longer wants to do what the men do and she no longer wants to be called Andy. She has now went from tomboy to girl, from childhood to adulthood.&lt;br /&gt;Andrea realizes that things don't stay the same, they are always moving forward, just like she has too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-3444123194338716349?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/3444123194338716349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=3444123194338716349&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3444123194338716349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3444123194338716349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/doe-season-answer-3.html' title='&quot;Doe Season&quot; Answer 3'/><author><name>LaDonna Cossette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14867524161754002777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-324889355810060721</id><published>2010-02-19T18:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T18:06:58.416-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>“The Chrysanthemums”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In “The Chrysanthemums” I found several different symbols to represent specific items or feelings. The most obvious one was the title. Chrysanthemum is a symbol of Elisa’s love and inspiration to be a gardener. “The Chrysanthemum stems seemed to small and eager for her energy” ( Steinbeck 632). Elisa is a determined woman who seems to be ready for bigger and better things in her life. It is time that she expands her gardening skills.&lt;br /&gt;Elisa is bored with her life on the farm. When a handyman drops by looking for work she expresses this by hinting around to leaving with him. “It must be nice, she said. It must be very nice. I wish women could do such things” (Steinbeck 637). She seems disappointed when the man can’t wait to reject her and be on his way. &lt;br /&gt;When she got ready for dinner with her husband that night, she tries really hard to look her best. “She put on her newest underclothing and her nicest stockings and the dress which was a symbol of her prettiness” (Steinbeck 638). Elisa was trying to earn back some of her dignity, perhaps by impressing her husband. &lt;br /&gt;When they were on their way to dinner, Elisa shows a guilty conscience of her behavior towards the stranger. “Henry, she asked, could we have wine at dinner tonite” (Steinbeck 639). A glass of wine could make her feel better and maybe she will stop acting so guilty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-324889355810060721?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/324889355810060721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=324889355810060721&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/324889355810060721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/324889355810060721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/chrysanthemums-in-chrysanthemums-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Suzie Pahl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13917414614851906633</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-6490578840409737607</id><published>2010-02-19T17:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T17:50:29.167-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"Doe Season" (Answer to #3)</title><content type='html'>Andy finds reassurance in the woods that are so huge, yet so comfortable to her. “They were the same woods that lay behind her house, and they stretch…for miles and miles…the thought made her feel good’ (Kaplan 456). This could represent her childhood because she is comfortable where she stands (physically, emotionally, and spiritually). As Andy and the guys walk through the woods she starts to compare the trees blowing like the sound of the ocean. She remembers how the ocean frightened her because it was “huge and empty, yet always moving…everything lay hidden” (459). The transition she makes from the woods she knows well to the undiscovered ocean is like the transition she makes from childhood to adulthood, on her hunting trip. Before Andrea went hunting, she obviously hadn’t thought about what she was getting herself into. Once she was pressured to actually kill a deer and see how she made it suffer, the disillusioning and painful process of growing up was revealed to her. This realization is what made her transition towards the adult world—the world that is like an ocean. Everything is moving, yet everything is hidden until one experiences a reality check. She now knows what it’s like to kill something; something she hadn’t thoroughly thought about before.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-6490578840409737607?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/6490578840409737607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=6490578840409737607&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/6490578840409737607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/6490578840409737607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/doe-season-answer-to-3.html' title='&quot;Doe Season&quot; (Answer to #3)'/><author><name>ErikaMae92</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14065940141634325860</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-7418081001506486401</id><published>2010-02-18T20:11:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T20:12:15.975-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Doe Season</title><content type='html'>Question 3&lt;br /&gt;I think she thinks of the woods as staying the same because the woods do not really change aside from the leaves changing color and falling on the ground. She thinks of the ocean as huge and empty and yet always moving”(Kaplan 459) because the water is always moving and does not stay the same like the woods seem to do.&lt;br /&gt;I think Andy feels as if the woods is her childhood where it has always been the same, where she knew what to expect but she feels the ocean is the “unknown”. The ocean symbolizes entering womanhood or adulthood where she is not going to know what to expect all the time as she will be going through a lot of changes.&lt;br /&gt;After she shoots the deer she “was sure she wouldn’t get to sleep; the image of the doe falling, falling then rising again, repeated itself whenever she closed her eyes” (Kaplan 465) is also a sign she is growing up. She is beginning to feel guilty for hurting the doe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-7418081001506486401?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/7418081001506486401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=7418081001506486401&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7418081001506486401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7418081001506486401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/doe-season.html' title='Doe Season'/><author><name>JenniferH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03051338298976964490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-2479526243099704007</id><published>2010-02-16T23:25:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T23:47:17.926-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Lottery"</title><content type='html'>“The Lottery” (1948) by Shirley Jackson is a story that is filled with significance and symbolism.  The setting itself is in an anonymous village square– I have to even figure out what part of the country it is set in. I feel that the reason for this is that with the horrific ending the author wants it that way. It’s as if she doesn’t want us to know where something like this could actually take place.  Although some of the townspeople stated that this lottery takes place in towns larger than theirs, it never really gives us a clue as to the location of this particular village. &lt;br /&gt;I feel there is much significance to Old Man Warner, being the one who has been through this lottery the most times in his life.  He seems to “know the ropes” and stays fairly relaxed about the whole process, while the rest of the town gets more excited as the lottery continues.   He states &lt;em&gt;“Seventy-seventh year I been in the lottery, seventy-seventh time&lt;/em&gt;.” (Kirszner &amp; Mandell, p. 409). This statement makes me think that he is almost bragging about being involved in this process so many times – although he has managed to come out unscathed so far. He is like the brick that holds the process together. When they have a question about the process they all look to him for answers. &lt;br /&gt;Another significant part of this story is the symbolism behind the black spot on the piece of paper. Although black can symbolize many things the main one is death.  The author gives hints towards the end of the story that this lottery may not be something that one would actually want to win, as shown by the townspeople’s excitement after everyone had drawn their pieces of papers. After everyone drew their slips no one stood up and shouted that they had won anything.  &lt;br /&gt;Once the author stated the Hutchison’s were the ones who had to go into the final draw it was as if Tessie knew her fate. She kept stating that it wasn’t fair and they should redraw. Once I read that she drew a piece of paper with a black spot I realized that it could mean nothing more than her death.  I thought it awful that even her own family and close friends had to take part in deciding her final fate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-2479526243099704007?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/2479526243099704007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=2479526243099704007&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2479526243099704007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2479526243099704007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/lottery-1948-by-shirley-jackson-is.html' title='&quot;The Lottery&quot;'/><author><name>lisaking</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02444566824779731316</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-8915276551990463233</id><published>2010-02-16T23:15:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T23:22:42.946-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Worn Path</title><content type='html'>A Worn Path is about a woman who walks through the woods seemingly every day to get medicine for her grandson. She seems to know her way around the woods very well. She knows exactly where to go and what bushes and tree branches to go over and around. As you read further, you realize that the grandson she is going to get medicine for almost every day needs the medicine everyday. We find out that he swallowed something that wasn't good for him. In the end, the woman buys her grandson a paper windmill.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-8915276551990463233?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/8915276551990463233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=8915276551990463233&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8915276551990463233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8915276551990463233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/worn-path_16.html' title='A Worn Path'/><author><name>salwei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10506447230980798674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-6042008044661089237</id><published>2010-02-16T22:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T22:49:00.331-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='T'/><title type='text'>The Lottery</title><content type='html'>There is plenty of symbolic significance in the story, “The lottery”. The way the characters are dressed, as well as they way that they converse all add to the theme and tone of the plot. This, of course, serves to enrich the reader’s understanding of the text. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The way the character’s are dressed serves as a way for the reader to place the appropriate level of significance, as well as to the time that the story takes place. Mr. Summers is described as wearing a "clean white shirt and blue jeans" (Kirszner/Mandell pg 407) it sets him apart from the women especially, who are dressed in “faded house dresses and sweaters (Kirszner/Mandell pg 405). This makes it seem like Mr. Summers is a bit more important, that he has a significant role to play compared to the others. Describing the way the villagers dress also places them safely within the confines of the twentieth century. Blue jeans are still very popular today, however wearing house dresses is less so. This would date the story quite a few years from the present date. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The manner in which the townspeople converse is also noteworthy. At the beginning of the story, Mrs. Hutchison, the future-victim, is excited about the lottery. After almost forgetting to attend, she rushes to get there, to see the results. She is lively and jovial, until she finds that it is her family that wins the draw. After the table has turned on her, she proclaims her shock, that her family was wronged, and that the process was not fair. This is in stark contrast to her earlier attitude. When she’s the one watching, and isn’t personally affected, everything is fine and the system works. When it becomes personal, she wishes for immediate change. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The Lottery is a story that leaves one with an uneasy feeling. The author chose to place the time close to our own, which would make it more personal. The way that the character’s speak helps unearth their typical daily way of life, which is that of a rural farming town in America. The way the people are dressed puts them in a rank of sorts, the majority wearing faded clothing, and Mr. Summers wearing clean, pressed whites and jeans.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-6042008044661089237?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/6042008044661089237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=6042008044661089237&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/6042008044661089237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/6042008044661089237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/lottery_9834.html' title='The Lottery'/><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17618468215614676807</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7i7HrcccKG0/S06vvZH1aDI/AAAAAAAAAAU/HKB_HXQ6XKw/S220/DSC01483.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-3266000148313066665</id><published>2010-02-16T22:26:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T22:54:38.855-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Storm"</title><content type='html'>I do not believe the storm excuses the characters from their actions of adultery. As scary as the storm was for them that doesn’t give them the excuse to commit adultery. For them to use the storm as a reason for why they committed the affair would be like them using any bad situation as an opportunity to have an affair. Yes they had a past but both of them were now married and had separate lives. Adultery is wrong no matter what the situation is. When Alcee grabbed Calixta’s shoulders she should have taken that as a sign as to what could possibly happen and should have put an end to it right there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-3266000148313066665?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/3266000148313066665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=3266000148313066665&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3266000148313066665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3266000148313066665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/storm_8818.html' title='&quot;The Storm&quot;'/><author><name>Ashley F</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14451156887616423444</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-6045324369241790786</id><published>2010-02-16T22:05:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T22:12:12.136-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lottery</title><content type='html'>The village square, in “The Lottery,” in my opinion relates to small American towns today, increasing the horror of the lottery that take place there.  The tradition of the lottery was a tradition in which “no one wanted to upset” (Jackson 406).  Even though they did not know the origins of the lottery, the village people blindly followed the deadly tradition.  Old Man Warner is like the tradition of the lottery, old.  “…the back box now resting on the stool had been put into use even before Old Man Warner, the oldest man in town, was born” (406).  Old Man Warner seems to take it upon himself to keep the tradition of the lottery going.  Mr. Adams talks about others villages giving up the lottery, Old Man Warner snorts and says, “Pack of crazy fools” (408).  The slips of paper, that replace the old wood pieces do to the growing community, represent the fate of each of the townspeople.  Whoever chooses the slip of paper with the black spot on it is stoned to death.  “…the black spot Mr. Summers had made the night before with the heavy pencil in the coal-company office” (410).  The black spot on the slip of paper is significant in the fact that the spot on the paper is black.  The color black represents death, the fate of the person who ends up with the slip of paper with a black spot on it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-6045324369241790786?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/6045324369241790786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=6045324369241790786&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/6045324369241790786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/6045324369241790786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/lottery_16.html' title='The Lottery'/><author><name>Sarah Shuck</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05378864358901834770</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-5748411405905660916</id><published>2010-02-16T21:39:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T22:21:23.307-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Storm"</title><content type='html'>I do not think the storm in this story excuses the characters from their responsibility for their actions.  Why would it?  Since they were both married with families I do not think this should of happened at all.  Especially while Calixta's husband and son were gone to the store and possibly out in this storm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do although understand the contributing factors that helped the affair follow through.  Once Calixta became frightened about Bibi and about the house, Alcee was there to comfort her and let her know everthing was going to be okay.  "Alcee clasped her shoulders and looked into her face.  The contact of her warm, palpitating body when he had unthinkingly drawn her into his arms, had aroused all the old-time infatuation and desire for her flesh"(Chopin 257).  This statement clearly shows that he had always had a thing for her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The passionate affair was short and came about so fast. The only good thing was maybe that now it was done and over with there would be no more desire.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-5748411405905660916?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/5748411405905660916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=5748411405905660916&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5748411405905660916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5748411405905660916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/storm_2227.html' title='&quot;The Storm&quot;'/><author><name>Penny Lane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11768000330422917484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yzG959o_7VM/S1T9W2rJIhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mf7PG2mIaAU/S220/IMAG0345.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-5226730735080438787</id><published>2010-02-16T20:09:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T20:12:50.715-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='question 9'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Storm'/><title type='text'>The Storm</title><content type='html'>In the short story, “The Storm, by Kate Chopin, a storm sets in motion the chain of events that leads to the characters’ adultery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calixta, is at home all by herself, and was so occupied with her own thoughts that she didn’t even realize a storm was brewing. She felt no uneasiness for Bobinôt, her husband and Bibi, her son’s safety. Calixta felt warm and mopped her face and unbuttoned her top button on her dress. As it grows dark she suddenly realizes that a storm is almost upon her. She quickly sets about shutting widows and doors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Calixta quickly gathers Bobinôt’s Sunday clothes, before they get soaked by the rain she sees Alc’ee ride up on his horse. What we quickly learn is that Alc’ee is a former beau that she shared passionate kisses with in her youth, long before she had married Bobinôt. Alc’ee asks, “Do you remember—in Assumption, Calixta?” he asked in a low voice broken by passion? She did indeed remember, and that time, because she was a virgin, even though she was passionate about him, she had resisted him. Now, in the height of the storm, Calixta didn’t seem to be able to come up with a reason to resist him, and she gives in to all the passion she felt in the past, all the pent up emotion, and she gives Alc’ee all the passion she has then and now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once they are done, they seem to pick up from where they were before the moments of passion, like nothing happened, almost like they were given a free pass, to make up for times gone by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first read this story, I did feel that they had done wrong in their moment of passion, but after reflecting upon it, I think they each gave themselves a gift, and in return were able to move on with their lives, and not make more of the one stolen moment in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kara Carpenter&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-5226730735080438787?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/5226730735080438787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=5226730735080438787&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5226730735080438787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5226730735080438787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/storm_16.html' title='The Storm'/><author><name>Kara Carpenter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05819778438063676844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jCI6nWC4JFQ/S0osjgb_L6I/AAAAAAAAAAU/qS3QCCZk-FU/S220/5109_92056823018_740413018_1936193_1407623_s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-5162853697563224743</id><published>2010-02-16T18:22:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T18:29:24.185-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"I Stand Here Ironing" Question #10</title><content type='html'>I would have to agree with Robert Coles’ optimistic view of the character of Emily in Tillie Olsen’s “I Stand Here Ironing.”   The story centers on Emily’s mother’s belief that she had not done enough for her child while she had been growing up.  While she was unable to raise her in the fashion she wished, Emily’s mother loved her child desperately enough to brave the conditions of the Depression to find work to provide for her.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“She was a miracle to me, but when she was eight months old I had to leave her daytimes with the woman downstairs to whom she was no miracle at all, for I had worked or looked for work and for Emily’s father, who ‘could no longer endure’ (he wrote in his good-bye note)’sharing want with us’ “&lt;/span&gt; (Olsen 284).  Believing she had been neglectful in her duties as a parent Emily’s mother sees the person her daughter has become yet does not fully understand that she too had a part to play in her development into a well rounded young woman.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“Let her be.  So that all that is in her will not bloom – but in how many does it?”&lt;/span&gt; (Olsen 289).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throughout the story we see a family who is plagued by unfortunate circumstances which separate mother and child both psychologically and physically at times.   While this separation creates a rift between the character of the mother and Emily, the lack of parental guidance and affection brings forth in the girl a wealth of creativity and compassion that goes untapped in most children.   We see examples of this in Emily’s character throughout the story.  The first indication of her good nature would be her early school years, while even having a particularly wicked teacher she would not openly complain to her mother.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“I knew Emily hated it even if she did not clutch and implore ‘don’t go Mommy’ like the other children, mornings”&lt;/span&gt; (Olsen 284).  The next example of this is during her stay at the convalescent home when Emily seemed to take in one of the smaller sick girls.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“There was a tiny girl who always stood hand in hand with Emily.  Her parents never came”&lt;/span&gt; (Olsen 286).  After this passage we find that particular girl had been moved to another facility because, as Emily puts it, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“They don’t want you to love anybody here” &lt;/span&gt;(Olsen 286).  The implication being that because of Emily’s deep caring for this girl the staff saw fit to move her.  Later as Emily matures into her teen years we find that she has a particular talent for the stage.  At first her mother does not recognize her own child on the stage, but after seeing her realizes the gift was there the entire time, if unused, and was in fact fostered by the shortage of material and emotional support.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“We have left it all to her, and the gift has as often eddied inside, clogged and clotted, as been used and growing”&lt;/span&gt; (Olsen 288).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conclusion, the character of Emily is not a tragic tale of neglectful parentship, but rather the uplifting case of what children are able to achieve even when lacking.  Emily made up for her “shortcomings” with great recompense in other areas of her life, eventually becoming a bright, thoughtful and talented adult.  For despite the era, she seemed to attend college, as her mother mentioned &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;“midterms”&lt;/span&gt; (Olsen 288), which is a remarkable achievement for a woman of her day in itself.  While her mother may lament about the perceived misgivings of her upbringing, many parents would consider Emily to be a child worthy of praise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-5162853697563224743?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/5162853697563224743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=5162853697563224743&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5162853697563224743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5162853697563224743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-stand-here-ironing-question-10.html' title='&quot;I Stand Here Ironing&quot; Question #10'/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05903191117554959603</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2N9aiIl1rMQ/S1Ca7U-lGfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mAo0usk5yEo/S220/HolyGrail166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-5006764539456779296</id><published>2010-02-16T16:37:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T16:59:59.389-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Lottery"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I think there is a lot of symbolism in "The Lottery". There are many things that seem to be symbolizing something much more significant, such as clothing and conversation. The story seems to put an emphasis on they way the people are dressed just so. They are dressed similarly, "The women, wearing faded house dresses and sweaters . . .(pg 405)" but not dressed up in fancy clothes. They act like it is such a big occasion that there is a certain way to act and dress, but its a different kind of big occasion than what we would be used to. They know what is coming and it's almost like they are there because it's their duty to do that job. They don't need to get dressed up to do a job like that. Everything just has to be uniform. &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The way they talk to each other shows some nervousness. They realize what they will have to do but they know that's just the way it is. They make small talk to pass the time, "men began to gather . . . speaking of planting and rain, tractors and taxes. (pg. 405)"  There is no discussion of whats to come. I think it shows that they are nervous for their own fates. By the end though, when its time to do what they came for, I don't believe they care too much about the fates of their freinds. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-5006764539456779296?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/5006764539456779296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=5006764539456779296&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5006764539456779296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5006764539456779296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/lottery.html' title='&quot;The Lottery&quot;'/><author><name>ewallgren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04838947215583290566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-6986139395533970947</id><published>2010-02-16T16:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T16:29:12.018-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Lottery" Question 1</title><content type='html'>After reading "The Lottery", I thought the village square was perceive as court that condemns a person to death not because they did something wrong but for a sacrifice for their crops.  The village square basically represents hell for the village people.  Mrs. Hutchinson had an apron on because she was washing dishes but at the village square she was wiping her hands on the apron.  This might mean she is cleansing herself before she gets stoned, although not knowing she was the one to get stoned.  The slips of paper were related to a jury in court.  The jury are the ones who decide what a person's sentence is, much like the slips of paper.  If there wasn't a black spot on the paper, that person was free.  If there was a black spot on the paper, that person was sentenced to death.  I'm not quite sure what Old Man Warner represents but the book mentioned he was 77 years old and he has been apart of the lottery for 77 years therefore he represents the older generation of the lottery.  He would always see the lottery as a tradition and he wouldn't give it up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-6986139395533970947?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/6986139395533970947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=6986139395533970947&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/6986139395533970947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/6986139395533970947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/lottery-question-1_16.html' title='&quot;The Lottery&quot; Question 1'/><author><name>Jamie Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14618126151543805523</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-2854785056835429777</id><published>2010-02-16T09:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T09:23:43.721-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Storm" question 9</title><content type='html'>In the story, The Storm, Calixta and Alcee commit adultery during a storm.  I do not think the storm excuses their behavior.  I do not think that anything would.  Both individuals were already married and seemed to love their spouses very much, so why do such a thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as the characters see each other, they are tempted.  Alcee had meant to just stand on the porch, but the rain started to come through the boards.  “He expressed an intention to remain outside, but it was soon apparent that he might as well have been out in the open: the water beat in upon the boards in driving sheets, and he went inside, closing the door after him” (Chopin 256).  This sentence suggests that his intentions may have been honorable at first, but the rain drove him into the house, making the tension rise.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The door stood open, and the room with its white, monumental bed, its closed shutters, looked dim and mysterious” (Chopin 256).  They are aware of the bedroom being just a little ways away.  The windows are already closed, so no one would be able to see what was going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Calixta and Alcee give in to temptation, there is no guilt.  “They did not heed the crashing torrents, and the roar of the elements made her laugh as she lay in his arms” (Chopin 257).  This suggests that Calixta feels better now that she has finally given in to her desire for Alcee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they lay there, “The growl of the thunder was distant and passing away.  The rain beat softly upon the shingles,…” (Chopin 258).  The storm has subsided outside as well as within the characters.  &lt;br /&gt;Each character goes back to their spouse and acts like nothing happened.  Alcee writes a love letter to his wife, and Calixta seems very excited and relieved to have her husband and son home safe.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“So the storm passed and everyone was happy” (Chopin 259).  I do not see how this statement can be true.  The storm did not give the characters the right to commit adultery.  They should have been ashamed of what they had done.  They should have felt an immense sense of guilt, but they did not.  The storm did help them out in committing this act though.  Could it be that they knew they would not be discovered because nobody in his right mind would travel in it?  They could have justified by the storm, because they knew it would be something they could sweep under the rug, never to be discovered.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-2854785056835429777?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/2854785056835429777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=2854785056835429777&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2854785056835429777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2854785056835429777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/storm-question-9.html' title='&quot;The Storm&quot; question 9'/><author><name>Hannah Jo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02968468187821742804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-8759190645230788217</id><published>2010-02-15T22:48:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T22:49:59.163-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Worn Path</title><content type='html'>In the story “A Worn Path” by Eudora Welty is an allegory, a story that has two parallel and consistent levels of meaning, one literal and one figurative. There are different symbols that are by the characters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The character Phoenix Jackson is used to symbolize all the black people who were once slaves and still go through the hard racism. Oh her walk to town she knew exactly where she was by the same path. Also when she gets to town for her grandson’s medicine she gets treated badly by the one and gets treated nicely by the actual nurse. Means she goes back for the same thing every time and so they give it to her this time. “Phoenix spoke unasked how. ‘No, missy, he not dead, he just the same. Every little while his throat begin to close up again, and he not able to swallow. He not get his breath. He not able to help himself. So the time come around, and I go on another trip for the soothing medicine’”(Welty 454). So she is a symbol for the people who had just gotten out of slavery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other character, the women, is just like the whites that hated the blacks right after slavery was stopped. “’Speak up, Grandma,’ the women said. ‘What’s your name? We must have our history, you know. Have you been here before? What seems to be the trouble with you’”(Welty 453). She seems to get really snotty with Phoenix who just went to get medicine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe it shows the relationship between the whites and slaves after the civil war.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-8759190645230788217?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/8759190645230788217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=8759190645230788217&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8759190645230788217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8759190645230788217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/worn-path.html' title='A Worn Path'/><author><name>Jennifer DeGroot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14224415037086435269</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MmpnDkAoUHA/S2ElyUR_gYI/AAAAAAAAAAM/vAZ03icStiI/S220/photos+006+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-1176520393518074650</id><published>2010-02-15T21:28:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T21:29:20.828-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Storm</title><content type='html'>The Storm is classic example of local color writing. “ Mama’ll be ‘fraid, yes,( Chopin, pg. 256). “No; she ent got Sylvie. Sylvie was helpin her yistiday,”(Chopin, pg. 256). These quotes from characters in the story illustrate some of the local dialect that is in the book. Having the characters speak in this manner allows Chopin to create a more vivid portrayal of the story. It adds color and allows the reader to picture the characters and mannerisms. When Alcee is looking for shelter from the storm, he stops under a side projection to politely ask Calixta  permission to stay. “May I come and wait on your gallery till the storm is over, Calixta?”(Chopin, pg. 256). This shows Alcee character as a southern gentlemen. He also intended to wait outside while the storm passed until it became too strong. In Louisiana there is a number of people who speak French and are influenced by that culture. Calixta uses the words dieu sait, and Bonte  which also reinforces local color.&lt;br /&gt;                The Storm more than a portrayal of life in Louisiana. It was written in 1899, in a time when women were dominated by men. This is a story where Bobinot’s wife commits adultery and still greets him happily. I believe that at the time this story was written it was considered controversial. The emphasis on the local color allows Chopin to soften the controversial subject matter of the story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-1176520393518074650?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/1176520393518074650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=1176520393518074650&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1176520393518074650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1176520393518074650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/storm_15.html' title='The Storm'/><author><name>caleb</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16633909864548408739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-1013064912468970867</id><published>2010-02-15T09:26:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T09:45:36.005-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Stand Here Ironing</title><content type='html'>In the story, &lt;em&gt;I Stand Here Ironing&lt;/em&gt; by Tillie Olsen, the Great Depression era is explained very well through the eyes of one woman. This woman is describing her daughter and how events in her life have shaped her personality. The daughter, Emily is the oldest of five children and the mother feels that Emily was raised differently than the younger children. She describes many things that happened to Emily that she feels shaped who her daughter is.&lt;br /&gt;     Near the beginning of the story, the young mom had to bring Emily to live with another family. This type of situation could happen today, there would be more regulations surrounding the arrangement (legal rights, custody, etc.), but it does happen in the form of children going to foster homes, group homes, or to live with relatives. I believe it would be very hard for a parent to send off a child to live with another family, but I think parents who realize that it's what's best for the child and do the right thing can get through the situation without too much guilt. She also says that it takes her some time to save the money to get her daughter back, which I also think is realistic today.&lt;br /&gt;     When Emily returns home, she is put in nursery school. The mother describes Emily not wanting to go, the teachers humiliating and making fun of children, and calls the school a "Parking place for children". I see this comparison better fit to daycare, although I'm sure there are preschools where these types of things happen. Emily's mom also describes the pleas of other children to not go, and Emily's excuses to not go (I don't feel well, the teachers aren't there today, you don't look well) which I can remember trying to use on my parents all through school.&lt;br /&gt;     Emily was sent away a second time, after the apartment had been broken into and Emily was home alone when it'd happened. While Emily was away the second time, parents were only allowed to visit once a week, and then only to shout up from the ground to their children on balconies. Emily lost weight while she was away, this was the eventual reason she was allowed to come home. This scenerio I don't believe could happen today. No doubt there are similar institutions, but as for the treatment of the children and families, it wouldn't happen.&lt;br /&gt;     There are other situations in the story that are increasingly realistic. Emily develops a crush on a boy and tries to win him over but he goes for another girl. Following that, she feels she isn't as smart as other students and is labelled a "slow learner". Her mother allows her to skip school even though she knows Emily's not sick. All of these are things most people experience in school.&lt;br /&gt;     Although &lt;em&gt;I Stand Here Ironing&lt;/em&gt; is a fictional story based on life more than 60 years ago, many of the struggles and hardships of the story could be relevant in our society today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-1013064912468970867?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/1013064912468970867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=1013064912468970867&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1013064912468970867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1013064912468970867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-stand-here-ironing_15.html' title='I Stand Here Ironing'/><author><name>Ninners</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372776012414770090</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-3416925249864950904</id><published>2010-02-14T20:53:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T20:55:30.772-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Storm"</title><content type='html'>The chain of events in “The Storm,” written by Kate Chopin, was seemingly leading to an act of adultery between Calixta and Alcee. Though, I understand that passion can take over at times, I do not think the storm was any excuse for two people, married, but not to each other, to commit such an act. “The rain beat upon the low, shingled roof with a force and clatter that threatened to break an entrance and deluge them there.” (Chopin, p.256) “The door stood open, and the room with its white, monumental bed, its closed shutters, looked dim and mysterious.” (Chopin, p. 256) It’s as if these two are almost looking for excuses to hook up. They actually go through with everything while the storm is booming outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The rain was over; and the sun was turning the glistening green world into a palace of gems. Calixta, on the gallery, watched Alcee ride away.” (Chopin, p. 258) So, after the storm is over, so is the passion and Alcee just leaves, as if nothing happened. Calixta’s husband and child come home and she acts as if nothing is wrong; as does Alcee with his wife and kids. These two human beings just betrayed the ones they love to the worst extent in my eyes all because they used a storm as an excuse. I don’t believe that’s right at all; no matter how you look at it. “So the storm passed and everyone was happy.” (Chopin, p. 259) I can’t see how Calixta and Alcee could truly be happy with that burden of guilt eating away at them day after day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-3416925249864950904?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/3416925249864950904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=3416925249864950904&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3416925249864950904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/3416925249864950904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/storm_14.html' title='&quot;The Storm&quot;'/><author><name>carly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00648421383120096515</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VesMMYcZBts/S0o1VI4SYCI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uMzUidN-Yo4/S220/yub.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-4600985878950069255</id><published>2010-02-14T20:24:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T20:31:27.448-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Stand Here Ironing</title><content type='html'>Question one in our literature books on page 289 asks us, "...In light of social, political,and economical changes that have occurred since the 1930's, do you think the events the story presents could occur today?  Explain."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emily was put into a convalescent home at a young age, also having to stay with relatives or be in the care of a sitter and just not see her mother enough. This was due to her mother being a single mother and having to make ends meet in any way that she could, which happens a lot today with the single mothers of our country, but the difference today is that we have a social service system better designed to suit the needs of those single mothers, providing day care assistance and we also have a system better designed for the quality and care that children receive while they are in daycare. When I look at the places that Emily was sent to while her mother couldn't care for her, it makes me think of our present day wealthy working Americans. There are many wealthy hard working Americans that send there children off to expensive preparatory schools and boarding schools of the like because they work too much and don't have the time to care for them. So, I suppose I would say that an answer to this question, in my own eyes, would be yes. These situations do happen in our modern society but in different ways. Our system of support had greatly increased to benefit the family setting and keep children with there families, but the situation of sending children away still occurs. It's just different dynamics.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-4600985878950069255?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/4600985878950069255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=4600985878950069255&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4600985878950069255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4600985878950069255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-stand-here-ironing_14.html' title='I Stand Here Ironing'/><author><name>kimberly_larson3</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13055726923279264427</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mUKcGr6X__4/S0wuJD5q2aI/AAAAAAAAAAM/d2XKZzf643M/S220/Elijah+and+mom.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-5610151295359769859</id><published>2010-02-14T19:21:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T19:22:55.717-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Question 3'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>“I Stand Here Ironing”&lt;br /&gt; The narrator in “I Stand Here Ironing” has a guilty conscience for how her oldest daughter Emily has been raised. “You should smile at Emily more when you look at her” (Olson 284).  Emily’s mother was not a happy, loving person towards her daughter and she does not realize it until it is too late. She did not give her the love she deserved. The many mistakes she made as a mother stem from the hard times of the depression and trying to raise her daughter alone. &lt;br /&gt; Emily’s mother felt guilty because she had to sacrifice her time with her first born. Emily’s father abandoned them when she was a baby and her mother struggled to support her. She had to leave her in the care of a neighbor, while she worked to provide for her. “When she saw me she would break into a clogged weeping that could not be comforted, a weeping I can here yet” (284). Her mother thinks that her time away is affecting her baby’s happiness.&lt;br /&gt; I think it was wrong to send her away to that awful convalescent house. The mother was being very selfish and only thinking of what was best for her new baby.&lt;br /&gt; I don’t think she was a good mother to Emily. She should have been there for her emotionally. “Now go to sleep, Emily, there’s nothing to hurt you” (285). Emily needed her mother’s comfort here not typical brush off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-5610151295359769859?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/5610151295359769859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=5610151295359769859&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5610151295359769859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5610151295359769859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-stand-here-ironing-narrator-in-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Suzie Pahl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13917414614851906633</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-5729097163508307712</id><published>2010-02-14T15:08:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T15:26:07.854-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Storm" guestion 9</title><content type='html'>I do not think the storm excuses the characters for their act of adultery. Maybe it's like a dream or fantasy Calixta was thinking of. The winds start to pick up, it's starts to down pour and a stranger on a horse appears out of no where. So in her dream or fantasy, these things are happening with this stranger and she is just acting them out. So when the storm ends, it's like her dream ended and all is well. Bobinot and Bibi feel bad about their appearance and even bring home shrimp to make Calixta happy, which she is already happy and now has something to show for it. Her husband and son come home and everyone is happy. She doesn't tell them what happened because it wasn't real to her. So life just goes on as if nothing happened. As if the storm took the dream or fantasy with it. As for Alcee (the stranger in her dream) he does go on, but still remembers what happens. He writes to his wife, as if nothing is different and even tells her to stay longer.(Chopin 259)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-5729097163508307712?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/5729097163508307712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=5729097163508307712&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5729097163508307712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5729097163508307712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/storm-guestion-9.html' title='&quot;The Storm&quot; guestion 9'/><author><name>LaDonna Cossette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14867524161754002777</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-960570957389056016</id><published>2010-02-14T12:30:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T12:30:42.933-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Lottery" Question 1</title><content type='html'>“The Lottery”, by Shirley Jackson is an interesting, yet unsettling story, and it displays several examples of symbolism. One example is the town square. At the start of the story, everyone gathers in the town square. The town square may symbolize the gathering place of evil. So in a sense, it could represent hell. After everyone gathers at the town square, Mr. Summers carries out a black box which holds slips of paper. One slip has a black dot on it. The slip of paper with a black dot on it decides who gets stoned. One could say that the black box, along with the slip of paper with the black dot, symbolizes death in this story. Then, if this is the case, the rest of the papers symbolize life. I’m not totally sure what Mrs. Hutchinson’s apron symbolizes, but perhaps when she dries her hands on the apron, she is “cleansing” herself from the evilness that is taking place. I think that Old Man Warner symbolizes the older generations of the village not wanting to give up a tradition, even though the tradition is purely evil. When other “younger” towns decide to give up their “lotteries”, Old Man Warner calls them crazy. “’They do say,’ Mr. Adams said to Old Man Warner, who stood next to him, ‘That over in the north village they’re talking of giving up the lottery.’ Old Man Warner snorted. ‘Pack of crazy fools,’ he said. ‘Listening to the young folks, nothing’s good enough for them.’” (Jackson, p. 408)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-960570957389056016?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/960570957389056016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=960570957389056016&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/960570957389056016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/960570957389056016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/lottery-question-1.html' title='&quot;The Lottery&quot; Question 1'/><author><name>Jacob_Smith3</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00914602708241895312</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-2466768140725602098</id><published>2010-02-13T16:02:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T16:02:47.490-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Storm Question 9 (pg 259)</title><content type='html'>I do not think the storm excuses the actions of the characters during the story. I do not feel what they did was right because of the storm or because the husband and son were not at home, and I do not think in any given situation would their actions be acceptable. Alcee wrote to his wife and he realized “their health and pleasure were the first things to be considered” (Chopin,259) , and the other family had a feast and enjoyed themselves and “laughed much and so loud that anyone might have heard them” (Chopin, 259). It seems as though nothing ever happened and that the storm just temporarily separated Calixta from her husband and son and as soon as they returned everything was back to normal. The last sentence states that “So the storm passed and everyone was happy” (Chopin,259), and it leaves one to wonder if everyone knew what had happened would they still be so happy? It also makes me feel like the storm was their excuse for committing adultery and as soon as the storm was over so was the actions they shared, thus leaving everyone else in the dark about what went on during that storm. The storm does is not an excuse for what they did and should not be used as an excuse if they have confessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-2466768140725602098?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/2466768140725602098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=2466768140725602098&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2466768140725602098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2466768140725602098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/storm.html' title='The Storm Question 9 (pg 259)'/><author><name>JenniferH</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03051338298976964490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-1545822138614563055</id><published>2010-02-11T14:25:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T14:26:51.791-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"I Stand Here Ironing"</title><content type='html'>P. 298; QST. #3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emily’s mother feels guilty for not always being there for her daughter and making her into the cold child she became. Partly, I do believe she is to blame; however, like Emily’s mother had said “She is a child of her age, of depression, of war, of fear” (Olsen, 289). This means that there isn’t much that could be done to save Emily; people were lucky to have held a job during the depression. Her mother admits “I was at the terrible growing years. War years. I do not remember them well. I was working, there were four smaller ones now, there was not time for her” (287). Apart from that, Emily’s father left her mother who was nineteen years old at the time (288). I don’t think it helped Emily to be sent to a convalescent home. We know that her mother really loved her, but if Emily was in her best interest she would have understood that it wouldn’t help Emily any. I do understand that times were hard and she was a single mother raising five children, but I think she could have done better for her eldest daughter. Emily could have benefited her by really helping to raise the younger children and do chores. However, maybe Emily would still have the same lonely feeling inside. Either way, being sent away couldn’t have done anything good to her, only force her to grow cold. Overall, Emily’s mother did what she could to survive. Things could have been better, but as Emily got older she must have grown warmer inside. “…she comes back in, kisses me, and says quite lightly, “in a couple of years when we’ll all be atom-dead they won’t matter a bit” (288).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-1545822138614563055?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/1545822138614563055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=1545822138614563055&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1545822138614563055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1545822138614563055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-stand-here-ironing_11.html' title='&quot;I Stand Here Ironing&quot;'/><author><name>ErikaMae92</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14065940141634325860</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-4996034502817385214</id><published>2010-02-08T22:30:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T22:30:40.929-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Stand Here Ironing</title><content type='html'>In the story “I Stand Here Ironing” by Tillie Olsen the narrator was overwhelmed by guilt. I believe this is because the narrator really realized what she has done during Emily’s whole life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think she thinks she should have been there more for her daughter. She had to try later on to make everything better but it was hard to do. “I had to work her first six years when there was work, or I sent her home to her relatives. There were years she had care she hated. She was dark and thin and foreign-looking in a world where the prestige went to blondeness and curly hair and dimples. She was slow where glibness was prized. She was a child of anxious, not proud, love. We were poor and could not afford for her to soil of easy growth. I was a young mother, I was a distracted mother. There were other children pushing up, demanding. Her younger sister seemed all that she was not. There were years she did not want me to touch her. She kept too much in herself, her life was such she had to keep too much in herself. My wisdom came too late. She has much to her and probably little will come of it. She is a child of her age of depression, of war, of fear” (Olsen 288-289). This shows that she had such a big guilt and wish she could have made it up to Emily and to have her understand what she was truly going through during this war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think she did some things wrong like at least spend some time with Emily as much as she did to the rest of her children. I think she wasn’t the greatest mother, but I think she really did do the best she could meaning it was the Great Depression era. She had to give up some of the time suppose to be for Emily so she could work to keep them fed and keep them alive. I don’t think she was the best mother but she tried and learned from her mistakes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-4996034502817385214?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/4996034502817385214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=4996034502817385214&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4996034502817385214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4996034502817385214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-stand-here-ironing.html' title='I Stand Here Ironing'/><author><name>Jennifer DeGroot</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14224415037086435269</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='23' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MmpnDkAoUHA/S2ElyUR_gYI/AAAAAAAAAAM/vAZ03icStiI/S220/photos+006+-+Copy.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-4447970477650308500</id><published>2010-02-03T13:31:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T13:32:38.075-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A&amp;P</title><content type='html'>This story has a lot to do with manly decisiveness.  This is a young boy that is drawn to these three girls that come into the store.  The girls being in just bathing suits didn’t help the situation.  Boys are boys and always will be.  How else would we expect this young boy to act?  Maybe the boy acted the way he did to oppose his boss or because he didn’t really agree with him, but I think it was mostly to impress the girls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I stood there with my hand on a box of HiHo crackers trying to remember if I rang it up or not” (Updike 220).  This statement after Sammy first notices the girls shows that his minds was elsewhere then work.  Lengal also does state that it is there policy, and I don’t think that he was rude.  The same thing would happen today if you were to walk into a store with no shoes or shirt.       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe Sammy being a young man had a lot to do with his decision to quit.  He didn’t really put much thought into his decision and it was rather irrational.  His attraction to the girls and the want to be noticed influenced his decision.  He obviously wasn’t thinking about the repercussions from his mom and dad until the aftermath as these statements show; “Sammy, you don’t want to do this to your Mom and Dad,” he tells me (Updike 223). “It’s true I don’t” (Updike 223).  “But it seems to me that once you begin a gesture it’s fatal not to go through with it” (Updike 223).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sammy experiences an epiphany at the end of the story when he realizes he made a stupid decision “I felt how hard the world was going to be to me hereafter” (Updike 223).  The girls were already long gone and he had no prize.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-4447970477650308500?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/4447970477650308500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=4447970477650308500&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4447970477650308500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/4447970477650308500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post_03.html' title='A&amp;P'/><author><name>Penny Lane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11768000330422917484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yzG959o_7VM/S1T9W2rJIhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mf7PG2mIaAU/S220/IMAG0345.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-2894678112479128123</id><published>2010-02-02T22:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T22:43:03.915-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A &amp; P</title><content type='html'>The story”A&amp;amp; P”, is a contemporary story about a young man coming of age, by making a “manly decisiveness”.  Sammy is a young man working as a checker at a grocery store.  He has gotten this job because his parents now the manager through church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a young person you have dreams, of grandeur and living your life played out how you envision it.  As I was reading this story, it was as if this was a foreshadowing of what was to come for Sammy, living out his life, working in the grocery store, and moving up the chain of command.  The problem was that Sammy would have to conform to certain standards that he didn’t feel were fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the girls entered the store, Sammy had been bored, and had just gotten chewed out by the “witch”, for making a mistake ringing up her order.  He was a young man, who basically followed the rules, and watching these three young women, led by Queenie, make their own way through the store, breaking unspoken rules through out their journey up and down the aisles, going the wrong way, but felt like the right way to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Lengel, the manager comes out, and tells the girls, “This isn’t the beach”, Sammy is embarrassed, by him and his actions.   After Lengel, continues to give the girls a hard time, and tells them that the next time they come in with their shoulders should be covered.  Sammy decides at that moment that he can’t stand by and let people be judged by Lengel anymore, and he decides to quit.  This was the final straw for Sammy, to witness the girls embarrassment, when in Sammy’s eyes they did nothing wrong.  He makes his decision, and sticks with it, even though Lengel is saying he will regret it one day, and will disappoint his family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kara Carpenter&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-2894678112479128123?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/2894678112479128123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=2894678112479128123&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2894678112479128123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2894678112479128123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/p_02.html' title='A &amp; P'/><author><name>Kara Carpenter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05819778438063676844</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='28' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jCI6nWC4JFQ/S0osjgb_L6I/AAAAAAAAAAU/qS3QCCZk-FU/S220/5109_92056823018_740413018_1936193_1407623_s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-1476927282002787096</id><published>2010-02-02T22:32:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T22:50:41.691-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Yellow Wallpaper</title><content type='html'>The story &lt;i&gt;The Yellow Wallpaper &lt;/i&gt;was very interesting to read but also somewhat confusing. I thought it was interesting how in the beginning of the story, the woman sounded almost normal, but in the end it was clear that she was not in her right mind. As the story progresses and you begin to notice how the narrator seems to change, you also notice how the writing changes as well. The narrator was upset about how the house sat alone for so long, she mentioned that she believed it may be haunted. She also did not like the room she was in. She would rather be downstairs closer to the outdoors. I believe her husband kept her upstairs to be as far away from others as possible, this probably made her mental condition worse. She also really did not like that wallpaper.&lt;div&gt;I think that with every entry she writes, the writing changes a little. She sounds a little crazier everytime. I think on page 373 is when the writing takes a big change though. The paragraphs begin to get very short and the punctuation doesn't always seem to make sense. Also, it is when her thoughts really give away her mental problems. The more she talks about what she thinks is going on with the wallpaper and the woman "creeping" the harder it is to understand the story. I believe that at the end of the story, the woman tears off all of the wallpaper and becomes that woman that she saw "creeping" so many times. The wallpaper was just a cover for what she was really doing the whole time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-1476927282002787096?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/1476927282002787096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=1476927282002787096&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1476927282002787096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1476927282002787096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/yellow-wallpaper_02.html' title='The Yellow Wallpaper'/><author><name>ewallgren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04838947215583290566</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-8841760972145002049</id><published>2010-02-02T22:30:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T22:52:32.693-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A&amp;P</title><content type='html'>I think that A&amp;P was a well written story. I don't think that you would have girls walking in to any store with no shoes. I work in a grocery store for over five years and I have never seen anyone come into the store without shoes on. But I have seen many times girls come in with swimsuits on. I think it was pretty brave for Sammy to stand up to his boss like that. I also think that it wasn't the appropriate time for it. I think he could have waited for a time where maybe they could have had more time to talk. Although I do think Sammy has a good point in saying "You didn't have to embarrass them" (Updike 223). I don't think really affected the boss to think that he was wrong in the situation. But in the end, he lost his job and the girls didn't even notice him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-8841760972145002049?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/8841760972145002049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=8841760972145002049&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8841760972145002049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8841760972145002049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post_3904.html' title='A&amp;P'/><author><name>salwei</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10506447230980798674</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-1008275681125422763</id><published>2010-02-02T22:26:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T22:26:41.936-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A&amp;P</title><content type='html'>Out of the three suggested themes of the story, the view that “A&amp;P” is a story about conformity seems to have a better fit. In the store, the average customer is described as “sheep” and “houseslaves in pin curlers” (Kirszner/Mandell pg 221). The customer’s are used to a certain atmosphere, a certain flow of shopping that the three girls have disturbed. The girls are simply dressed differently than expected, but causes such a commotion that “the people would by and large keep reaching and checking oatmeal off their lists…But there was no doubt, this jiggled them” (pg 221) and forces an employee to feel obligated to quit his job. Society wants the girls to confirm to their sense of decency, and Sammy wished to right the wrong that he felt was done to them. He did not foresee any alternate way of carrying out his sentiment other than to quit his job, which will most definitely disappoint his parents who may very well depend on his employment to sustain their way of life. Sammy quit his job because he felt convicted to do so: once you start something its best to see it through. He felt that the girls were not treated with the respect due to them, and quit as a show of nonconformity. He would not be like everyone else and just let that happen. He saw himself in Mr. Lengel’s position, and desired for more in life. His epiphany was at the end, when he realized that sometimes in life one can act impulsively and irrationally, especially when faced with a pretty face, and a woman’s reputation to protect.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-1008275681125422763?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/1008275681125422763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=1008275681125422763&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1008275681125422763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1008275681125422763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post_935.html' title='A&amp;P'/><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17618468215614676807</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7i7HrcccKG0/S06vvZH1aDI/AAAAAAAAAAU/HKB_HXQ6XKw/S220/DSC01483.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-358754356286420060</id><published>2010-02-02T21:57:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T22:01:23.870-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A&amp;P</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-358754356286420060?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/358754356286420060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=358754356286420060&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/358754356286420060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/358754356286420060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post_2692.html' title='A&amp;P'/><author><name>Penny Lane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11768000330422917484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yzG959o_7VM/S1T9W2rJIhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mf7PG2mIaAU/S220/IMAG0345.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-1144339364976402558</id><published>2010-02-02T21:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T21:57:29.516-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A&amp;P</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-1144339364976402558?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/1144339364976402558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=1144339364976402558&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1144339364976402558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/1144339364976402558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post_02.html' title='A&amp;P'/><author><name>Penny Lane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11768000330422917484</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yzG959o_7VM/S1T9W2rJIhI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mf7PG2mIaAU/S220/IMAG0345.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-8693675997588949071</id><published>2010-02-02T17:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T17:52:58.536-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Yellow Wallpaper</title><content type='html'>The narrator basically gave in to her disease and/or tiredness.  All she wanted to do was help that woman in the wallpaper escape and by helping the woman, she thought she was helping herself escape.  I don’t really know what her disease was or where her tiredness came from but I don’t she was crazy at first, but when she was confined to that room, she ended up linking herself to the woman in the wallpaper and became crazy.  &lt;br /&gt;The plot changes in a couple parts.  On page 371, the 94th line states, “I’m getting really fond of the room in spite of the wallpaper.  Perhaps because of the wallpaper” (Gillman, 371).  The woman doesn’t necessarily start to like the wallpaper but she has grown accustom to the patterns, then finding out later on she sees a woman behind bars on the wallpaper.  Another plot change would be the part where she states, “I’ve got out at last, in spite of you and Jane.  And I’ve pulled off most of the paper, so you can’t put me back!” (Gillman, 378).  The plot may change earlier, but I think this is where the woman truly shows a different side and reveals she has surrendered to her disease.  She linked herself to the woman behind bars on the wallpaper; she, like the woman on the wallpaper, wanted to be free from her confinement.  The narrator wanted to be free from the room, wallpaper, her tiredness or disease, and John. &lt;br /&gt;The narrator is upset by the house because of the yellow wallpaper, the “yellow smell”, and the “immovable bed”.  She is constantly reminded of the smell wherever she goes and at the end of the story, she is not able to move the bed to remove the wallpaper.  Another thing I think upsets her are the “women” that constantly creep around during the daylight on the grounds and in other people’s windows.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-8693675997588949071?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/8693675997588949071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=8693675997588949071&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8693675997588949071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/8693675997588949071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/yellow-wallpaper.html' title='The Yellow Wallpaper'/><author><name>Jamie Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14618126151543805523</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-7219361681758873400</id><published>2010-02-02T10:43:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T10:46:36.895-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A&amp;P</title><content type='html'>When I read John Updike’s A&amp;P, it struck me as being a feminist protest.  First of all, the girls come into the A&amp;P wearing swim suits.  “In walks these three girls in nothing but bathing suits.” (Chopin 220). “They didn’t even have shoes on” (220).  Even if someone did this now days, they would get a funny look.  This is the first thing that stood out to me as being a feminist protest.  They are scantily clad in the super market.  Secondly, they are walking the wrong direction.  “The sheep pushing their carts down the aisle-the girls were walking against the usual traffic (not that we have one-way signs or anything)-were pretty hilarious” (221).  The girls are walking towards people, not behind them.   It is as if they wanted people to see them by walking against the traffic.  They were also showing that they were not afraid to go against the usual way of doing things.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sammy quits because he is smitten with the girls and does not like how Lengal embarrasses them.  “You didn’t have to embarrass them” (223).   Also, he is hoping to impress the girls by quitting his job in protest to how they were treated.   “…their unsuspecting hero” (223). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sammy’s epiphany is happening when Lengel is talking with the girls.  I can tell his mind is racing and he is thinking about what is going on.  Everything clicks when he says the words, “I quit” (223).  He realizes the full meaning of those two little words when he says, “…my stomach kind of fell as I felt how hard the world was going to be to me hereafter” (224).   The girls are nowhere in sight.  He was hoping that they would realize what he had done for them, but they did not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-7219361681758873400?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/7219361681758873400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=7219361681758873400&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7219361681758873400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7219361681758873400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-post.html' title='A&amp;P'/><author><name>Hannah Jo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02968468187821742804</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-5302817130266925993</id><published>2010-02-01T21:53:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T21:57:28.956-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A &amp; P</title><content type='html'>In John Updike’s story, “A &amp;amp; P,” there are a lot of different aspects brought out about woman and how they should be treated better, just in a more subtle way. I would have to say a lot of this story goes towards “feminist protest,” after all, Sammy did quit his job to stick up for those girls; or to impress them more or less.  “You didn’t have to embarrass them,” (Updike 223) Sammy utters to his boss. Just by him saying that to a higher authority at his place of work really shows that he has the courage to stick up for these girls, and that is a huge protest in my eyes. As this story unfolds, there are quite a few things that struck me towards thinking Sammy may quit. I think it irritated him that his boss hides in the “Manager” office all day while everyone else is working. “He didn’t like me smiling—as I say he doesn’t miss much – but he concentrates on giving the girls that sad Sunday school superintendent stare” (Updike 222), this just shows me how cold- hearted this man is; one can’t even crack a smile in his presence.  Lengel portrays a mean man in this story, especially when he continues to yell at these girls in front of customers; “After this come in here with your shoulders covered. It’s our policy” (Updike 223), that is just indecent to yell in front of paying customers. One needs to show some respect, considering he is the role model and manager in this store. I don’t blame Sammy for quitting his job. I wouldn’t want to work for a man like that either. I believe that Sammy had an epiphany in this story. “Looking back in the big windows, over the bags of peat moss and aluminum lawn furniture stacked on the pavement, I could see Lengel in my place in the slot, checking the sheep through.” (Updike 224) I believe it was right there where Sammy realized that he could have potentially ended up in that same spot that Lengel was standing right then; working at the A &amp;amp; P, “checking sheep through” forever. He realized the world would be hard at this point, but it would be worth it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-5302817130266925993?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/5302817130266925993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=5302817130266925993&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5302817130266925993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/5302817130266925993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/p_01.html' title='A &amp; P'/><author><name>carly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00648421383120096515</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VesMMYcZBts/S0o1VI4SYCI/AAAAAAAAAAM/uMzUidN-Yo4/S220/yub.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-7812782098684845299</id><published>2010-02-01T21:50:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T21:50:36.539-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A &amp; P</title><content type='html'>The story A &amp;amp; P is about conformity because of the way that the character Sammy deals with the events that occur. When the three girls walk into the A &amp;amp; P store, Sammy is instantly fixated on them. It seems as though everyone is watching them, but the way that Sammy admires them for coming in the store with just their bathing suits on combined with his attraction towards the one he calls queenie, adds feeling and depth to Sammy’s character. As the girls move casually up and down the aisles, Sammy is constantly making more observations about them. The more observations he makes, the stronger his connection or admiration becomes. Sammy not only admires Queenie, but he is very intimidated by her, " Still with that prim look she lifts a folded dollar bill out of the hollow at the center of her nubbled pink top. The jar went heavy in my hand"(Updike, 222). Sammy also notices the discomfort of the customers over the way the girls are dressed. This only adds to his admiration. When his manager comes in the store and notices the girls he gives them a hard time. Sammy views this as excessive and decides that it was so unfair that he must quit instead of conform to the managers and the customers close minded views. Sammy’s final epiphany occurs when he tells Lengel fiddle-de-doo. It seems as though he didn’t know what to say to Lengel and the saying that his grandmother used to say just fell out of his mouth. By the time it did he realizes that it was the perfect thing to say and he must quit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-7812782098684845299?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/7812782098684845299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=7812782098684845299&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7812782098684845299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7812782098684845299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/p.html' title='A &amp; P'/><author><name>caleb</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16633909864548408739</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-2767374643374589878</id><published>2010-02-01T14:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T14:29:18.422-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A &amp; P Essay</title><content type='html'>“A &amp;amp; P” by John Updike is a story about conformity. Sammy’s attitude and behavior was greatly influenced by the young girls that strutted through the grocery store in bathing suits. It becomes apparent that he is interested in them by the way he describes each of the girls and what they were wearing: “and what got me, the straps were down” (Updike 220). Sammy’s boss told the girls to come in the store next time with more clothes on. Of course, Sammy has to impress these astonishing ladies-- “The girls, and who’d blame them, are in a hurry to get out, so I say ‘I quit’ to Lengel quick enough for them to hear, hoping they’ll stop an watch me, their unsuspected hero” (Updike 223). Females do seem to have the mental power it takes to get inside boys’ heads, especially these ones, but in reality all they want is attention. That is exactly what they got by walking in a cold grocery store in nothing but practically their birthday suits. When “Queenie” and the other girls came to his register, Sammy got lost in his thoughts and let them get the best of him. He claimed her money just came from “the two smoothest scoops of vanilla I had ever known were there, and pass a half and a penny into her narrow pink palm, and nestle the herrings in a bag and twist its neck and hand it over, all the time thinking” (Updike 223). He had an epiphany and decided to quit his job – not because he really wanted to, but because he was in such a daze over these girls he wanted to impress. The downfall for Sammy is that really he can’t afford to quit his job and doesn’t even have a logical excuse for doing it. “It’s true. I don’t. But it seems to me that once you begin a gesture it’s fatal not to go through with it” (Updike 223). This proves that Sammy is a weak character. Another reason why Sammy quit his job could just be because he wanted more excitement and was bored with it. It is obvious that he had nothing better to do other than drool over these girls. However, when he walked out of the store they were gone. All he saw was the real world and how hard it was going to be on him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-2767374643374589878?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/2767374643374589878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=2767374643374589878&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2767374643374589878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/2767374643374589878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/p-essay.html' title='A &amp; P Essay'/><author><name>ErikaMae92</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14065940141634325860</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7230749279773350266.post-7081822164303988109</id><published>2010-02-01T01:39:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T02:00:03.229-06:00</updated><title type='text'>"A Good Man Is Hard To Find"</title><content type='html'>In Flannery O’Connor’s story “A Good Man Is Hard To Find” the author explores the idea of the confrontation of evil and the consequences of using unproven faith to face such a force.  In this story we meet the character of the unnamed grandmother, who by all accounts is a proper Southern Christian woman with all of the traits inherent of a woman of her generation and upbringing.   She is heavily judgmental of others, whether that judgment is justified or not, be it her family or the “cute little pickaninny” the family sees “standing in the door of a shack” (O’ Connor 355).  The latter example also shows her innate sense of inequality as the language she used to describe the boy (O’ Connor 355) illustrates the racism bred into her culture which is something that is never questioned in her mind.  She is immediately mistrustful of anyone but herself, and in her own words “’It isn’t a soul in this green world of God’s that you can trust,’ she said. ‘And I don’t count nobody out of that, not nobody’” (O’ Connor 357).  These three factors, her rushes to judgment, her inane sense of social inequality, and her suspicious nature all come from a false sense of superiority that stems from her religious and social piety, and would lead me to call her the religious “pretender” of this story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True faith is actually shown by the man who has none, in the character of The Misfit.  He shows this through a few examples of what he chooses to say to and how he reacts to the grandmother during their scene in the woods.  The most meaningful example is when he replies to the woman about Jesus’ raising of the dead that “if I had of been there I would of known and I wouldn’t be like I am now” (O’ Connor 364).  With this statement he shows that he believes in the prospect of true good and true evil.  He believes that had he been witness to the redeeming act of resurrection by the hand of Jesus, even a man such as himself would be transformed from the monster he had become through the experiences of his life.   His rage while making this statement, “hitting the ground with his fist” (O’ Connor 364), almost shows that he knows that there was a different path that he may have taken at some point in his life if there had been an experience that had moved him in a religious fashion.  Also, he states that he refuses to pray for help.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;“If you would pray,” the old lady said, “Jesus would help you.”&lt;br /&gt;“That’s right,” The Misfit said.&lt;br /&gt;“Well then, why don’t you pray?” she asked trembling with delight suddenly.&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t want no help,” he said, “I’m doing all right by myself.”&lt;/span&gt; (O’Connor 363)&lt;br /&gt;This to me is his twisted sense of morality, since he does not believe he will ever change, he refuses to practice sacrilege by praying for something he knows would be insincere.  These characteristics of knowing right from wrong, even if on the incorrect side of the two, and truly knowing ones nature and refusing to compromise that for anything less than a moment of pure grace and true redemption is why I would consider The Misfit the true person of faith in this story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both of these characters receive a moment of religious grace in this story, both in the same moment, but for different reasons and each pays a unique price.  The Misfit and the grandmother share a seemingly tender moment in which she reaches out to him saying “Why you’re one of my babies.  You’re one of my own children!" (O" Connor 364).  In this moment she sheds all of her pretenses and truly accepts him as a human being, reaching out to him emotionally and physically, trying to stop him from committing the act she knows is next to come.  But unlike her self -serving appeals earlier in the story, this is a plea to save himself from the life he “was buried alive” in (O’ Connor 362).  In her final moments the old woman came closer to the teachings she thought she had believed in than she had her entire life, and the price she paid for that was her and her family’s lives.  The Misfit on the other hand, unprepared for this moment of revelation, instead of being transformed by the experience as he wished he would have been, lets instinct rule him.  The price he pays is further sullying his soul at the expense of this family’s lives.  Here we see a role reversal, where The Misfit becomes the religious pretender in that he refuses to see a transformative moment when it is upon him, unlike the grandmother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Violence plays the role of a transitional medium in this case.  The crash of the car leads to the meeting with The Misfit, which leads to the inevitable end.  And this end leads to two characters reaching a higher understanding of their world which is summed up by The Misfit’s statement “She would have been a good woman…if it had been somebody to shoot her every minute of her life” (O’ Connor 365).  The implication is that only in a moment of violence and tragedy will people become aware of and accept the true value of their being.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7230749279773350266-7081822164303988109?l=cw1102.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/feeds/7081822164303988109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7230749279773350266&amp;postID=7081822164303988109&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7081822164303988109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7230749279773350266/posts/default/7081822164303988109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cw1102.blogspot.com/2010/02/good-man-is-hard-to-find.html' title='&quot;A Good Man Is Hard To Find&quot;'/><author><name>Nate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05903191117554959603</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='18' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2N9aiIl1rMQ/S1Ca7U-lGfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mAo0usk5yEo/S220/HolyGrail166.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
