Read any three (3) of the four articles listed below on the movie Bombshell (2019).

Step #1: Read any three (3) of the four articles listed below on the movie Bombshell (2019).

· Kenneth Turan,Review: Based on the real-life drama at Fox News, ‘Bombshell’ explodes on the screen(Los Angeles Times)

· Manohla Dargis, “‘Bombshell’ Review: Blind Ambition and Blond Sedition at Fox News” (The New York Times)

· Ann Hornaday, “‘Bombshell’ takes aim at Fox News, and, with Theron and Kidman headlining, hits its target” (Washington Post)

· Linda Holmes, ‘Bombshell’ Imitates, But Fails To Enlighten” (NPR)

Step #2: Review the worksheet on creating a synthesis matrix (North Carolina State University) featured in this week’s Content.

    
    
    
    

 

Step #3: Complete a synthesis matrix for the three articles you’ve read. This includes:

· Identifying at least three (3) main ideas or topics covered by the reviews (e.g., plot, actors, #MeToo, gender bias, etc.)

· Taking notes on what the critics write about these main ideas (e.g., “Lee praises the plot as interesting…” and “Reed finds the plot too confusing…”)

· Jotting down quotes that support your observations (e.g., “Lee writes, ‘The story has movie-goers at the edge of their seats the whole three hours…”)

Step #4: Identify at least two key issues or questions that are particularly problematic or controversial or striking or worthy of exploring. These would be issues/questions that can be supported by at least two of the articles. They may be points on which the critics agree or disagree, issues that weren’t adequately addressed, or ideas that are explored in the reviews (e.g., “What did the critics think about Colin Firth’s cameo?” or “Discussion of political bias in the movie’s portrayal of the vice president”). Ask yourself, what ideas/issues that are shared among the articles might be interesting to pursue further?

Step #5: Explain how these issues are played out in the reviews (1-2 sentences). What are the critics’ positions on these issues? What was stated/not stated? What other questions does this issue introduce? (For example, for “Why didn’t the critics recognize the cinematography?” you might write about how one critic barely mentioned the cinematography, while another stated how it was overrated, focusing more on the acting.)

Close Reading and Analysis

Part I: Close Reading and Analysis

You must do a close reading and analysis of 2 of the 4paragraphs below (300-400 words for EACH Q). You should explain key aspects of the quote, cite it directly in your answer, and explain its relationship to the larger topics/themes/ideas/contexts discussed in class. Each question will be marked out of 25 for a total of 50% of the exam grade.

1) “Well, clear this out now!” said the overseer, and they buried the hunger artist, straw and all. Into the cage they put a young panther. Even the most insensitive felt it refreshing to see this wild creature leaping around the cage that had so long been dreary. The panther was all right. The food he liked was brought to him without hesitation by the attendants; he seemed not even to miss his freedom; his noble body, furnished almost to the bursting point with all that it needed, seemed to carry freedom around with it too; somewhere it its jaws it seemed to lurk; and the joy of life streamed with such ardent passion from his throat that for the onlookers it was not easy to stand the shock of it. But they braced themselves, crowded round the cage, and did not ever want to look away.

3) “Jim and Irene Westcott were the kind of people who seem to strike that satisfactory average of income, endeavor, and respectability that is reached by the statistical reports in college alumni bulletins. They were the parents of two young children, they had been married nine years, they lived on the twelfth floor of an apartment building near Sutton Place, they went to the theatre on an average of 10.3 times a year, and they hoped someday to love in Westchester. Irene Westcott was a pleasant, rather plain girl with soft brown hair and a wide, fine forehead upon which nothing at all had been written, and in the cold weather she wore a coat of fitch skins dyed to resemble mink.”

SECTION II: Short Essay Question (50 marks)

Please write a short essay (400-500 words approximately) on 1 of the following 3 questions. Successful essays will have a clear introduction, arguable thesis, logical essay structure, and be grammatically sound. Strong papers will also be able to provide direct citation from the stories as supporting evidence for their claims. Essays should have a minimum of two body paragraphs and four direct quotes. A Works Cited is not required. Each essay will be marked out of 50 for a total of 50% of the exam grade.

3) In his story “Signs and Symbols,” Vladimir Nabokov uses the setting of the story, and the objects contained with in it, to produce a feeling of looming disaster in the mind of the reader. With as much specificity as possible, and by quoting the story directly, please explain how Nabokov’s use of these signs and symbols is related to his support for the Formalist school of literary theory. Do you think that an interpretation of a story should exclude contexts outside of the text, why or why not?

First World Problems

After watching the speeches, “First World Problems” and “ How Guinea Pigs Help Autistic Children” in the unit resources, critique the effectiveness of each speaker’s organization and delivery.  How did the choices made by the speaker impact the level of engagement you had with each speech?

Some areas to comment on are: an engaging introduction, smooth transitions, credible evidence to support main ideas, concise conclusion with memorable ending, varied tone of voice, eye contact and other body language.

The Merchant’s Wife

The Merchant’s Wife

by Hsu Ti-shan

Translated by William H. Nienhauser, Jr.

“It’s time for your morning tea, sir.” The voice of the second-class cabin attendant

was urging me to get up. Since I’d been very busy yesterday before boarding the ship, my mind and body were so completely exhausted that I slept from nine o’clock straight on through until seven A.M. without stirring. When I heard the atten- dant’s call, I got up immediately. After attending to those matters which need to be taken care of in the morning, I went to the dining hall.

By that time the hall was crowded. Everyone there was drinking tea and chatting: predicting who would be victorious in the European War, discussing whether Yuan Shih-k’ai [1859-1916] should have made himself emperor, or conjectur- ing whether the revolt of the Indian soldiers in Singapore was incited by the Indian Revolu- tionary Party. The buzzing and murmuring al- most transformed the hall into a marketplace. I wasn’t accustomed to it. As soon as I was done with my tea, I returned to my cabin, took a vol- ume entitled Miscellanies of the Western Capital, and ran off to starboard looking for a place to sit. I was planning on an intimate conversation with the characters of the book.

As I opened it and was about to begin reading, an Indian woman, leading a child of about seven.

or eight by the hand, came and sat down facing me. I had seen this woman at the Pond for Releas- ing Life 1 in the Temple ofSupreme Joy2 the day before yesterday. I had also spotted her boarding ship, and on board had often seen her at the rail, port and starboard, enjoying the cool air. As soon as I saw her my curiosity was stirred, for though her attire was Indian, her deportment was not that of an Indian woman.

I laid the book down and watched her furtively, pretending to be reading whenever she turned her gaze toward me. After I had done that several times, I feared she might suspect an ulterior mo- tive and lowered my head, not daring to allow my eyes to touch her again.

She absentmindedly sang Indian songs to the child, who pointed here and there, asking her questions. AsI listened to her replies, uncon- sciously I stared at her face again. When she saw me raise my head, she ignored the child and quickly asked me in a Southern Fukienese dialect, “Uncle,” are you going to Singapore too?” (She had the accent of the Hai-cheng country folk, and her tone of voice too was that of a country dweller.) She spoke slowly, syllable by syllable, as if she were just learning to speak. When she asked me this question my suspicions multiplied, and I

Professors Dennis T. Hu, Muhammed Umar Memon, V. Narayana Rao, and Seng-tong Wong have all made important sugges- tions and clarifications to the translator. The responsibility for any remaining infelicities or errors lies solely with the latter. In the case where Muslim terms cannot be identified, romanizations according to the Chinese renderings are provided.

The numbered footnotes were supplied by the translator, whereas the footnotes keyed with letters are the author’s own. 1 A pond where people release captive fish or turtles, often after purchasing them nearby; the practice is a Buddhist one,

reflecting the Buddhist principle of respect for life. 2 This temple is locate~+n the island of Penang off the west coast of Malaysia. 3 “Lao-shu” in the origi) al, which means “Old Uncle.”

– ——–

 

 

HSU TI-SHAN

answered, “I’m returning to Amoy. Have you been to our area? How is it that you speak our language?”

“Eh? I suppose since you saw that I am dressed as an Indian woman, you suspected I wasn’t from the ‘lands of the T’ang.? To tell you the truth, my home is in Hung-chien.”

When the child saw us conversing in our native dialect, he had a strange feeling. Shaking his mother’s knee, he asked in Indian: “Mama, what language are you speaking? Who is he?” He had probably never heard her speak this language be- fore, and thus felt it was strange. To learn this woman’s background a little more quickly, I went on with my questions.

“Is that your child?” She first answered the child, then turned to me

and sighed. “Why not? I raised him in Madras.” The more we talked the more familiar we be-

came, so that our initial inhibitions subsided. Once she knew my home and that I was a teacher, she stopped addressing me as “uncle” and called me “sir” instead, which was more appropriate for a man of my profession. She related to me, more- over, the general conditions in Madras. Because her experiences were out of the ordinary, I asked her to tell them in some detail. By then she was in a mood to talk, and she agreed. Only then did I put the book in my bag and with undivided atten- tion listen to her story.

When I was fifteen I was married to Lin Yin- ch’iao of the Ching-chao area. My husband ran the sugar shop around the corner from us. Al- though he spent little time at home, this scarcely affected our good relationship. During the three or four years I spent with him, we never argued or had a difference of opinion. One day, he came back from the shop looking troubled and de- pressed. As soon as he came through the door, he grasped my hands and said, “Hsi-kuan,” my busi- ness is ruined. From now on I won’t be going back to the shop again.”

When I heard this I had to ask, “Why? Has business been bad?”

“No,” he said. “No, I ruined it myself. These past couple of days some friends have been urg- ing me to gamble with them. At first I won quite a bit, but then I lost everything-even the store’s equipment and furniture. I wish I hadn’t done it . . . I’m really sorry; I can hardly face you.”

I was stunned for a while and couldn’t find the right words to console him. I was even more at a loss for words to rebuke him.

He saw my tears stream down and hurriedly wiped them away as he went on. “Ai, you’ve never cried in my presence before. These tears you shed before me now are like molten pellets of iron dripping one by one into the depths of my heart. It really hurts me more than you. But you needn’t worry too much: I’ll simply look for some capital to set up business again.”

Then we two sat there wordlessly staring into each other’s eyes. Although I had a few things I wanted to set straight with him, whenever I looked at him, I felt as if he had a kind of de- monic power that, before I could speak any thought, had long since understood it. I could only say, “From now on you’d better not throw your money away! You’ve got to realize that gam- bling …”

He was at home, without ajob, for almost three months. It turned out that we could get along on the money I had saved, so there was no need for him to worry about a livelihood. He would be out the whole day to borrow money for capital, but unfortunately no one trusted him enough to loan him a penny. He was so desperate that he finally decided to migrate to Southeast Asia.

By the time he was ready to leave for Singa- pore, I had all the things he would need, includ- ing a pair ofjade bracelets to sell at Amoy for travel expenses. He wanted to take advantage of the morning tide in leaving for Amoy, so the day before we were to part we talked all through the night. The next morning I saw him off onto a small

a Overseas Chinese refer to their motherland as “Tang Shan,” the lands of Tang China. b It is customary for people of Fukienese origin to address one another by adding the suffix “kuan” to the given name, whether

it is a person of an older generation speaking to one of a younger, or a man and woman of the same generation addressing each other.

 

 

THE MERCHANT’S WIFE 43

boat and then walked back alone, my mind trou- bled. I sat down at my desk thinking that most men who went to Southeast Asia never missed their homes or thought of their families, and I wondered whether he would be like them. As I was still lost in this thought, a trail of hurried footsteps stopped at the door. I recognized them as his and quickly got up and opened the door. “Did you leave something behind?” I asked.

“No,” he replied. “I forgot to tell you some- thing. When I get there, no matter what I’m doing, I’ll write you. If I don’t return in five or six years, you come look for me.”

“All right,” I said. “You had to come back to tell me this? When the time comes I’ll know what I should do. It’s getting late. You’d better hurry back to the boat!”

He pressed my hands, heaved a long sigh, and then turned and left. I watched him until he reached the edge of the banyan tree’s shade and saw him descend the long dike, before I closed the door.

I was twenty that year when I parted from Lin Yin-ch’iao. After he left home only two letters came, one saying he had opened a grocery store in Tanjong Pagar in Singapore and that business was good. The other said he was quite occupied with business and couldn’t afford to come home. For many years I waited for him to come back for a reunion, but year after year my hopes were in vain.

The woman who lived next door often urged me to go to Southeast Asia and look for him. When I gave this some thought, I realized we had been separated for ten years. To go searching for him, even if it weren’t easy, would be much better than suffering alone at home. I got together the money I had saved, turned the house over to the care of a village family named Jung, and went to Amoy to take ship. Since this was the first time I had gone abroad, of course I couldn’t get used to the rocking of the ship in rough seas, so when I arrived in Singapore, after what seemed to be ages, I was happier than I’ll ever be again. I asked someone to take me to the Yi-ho-ch’eng Grocery in Tanjong Pagar. I can’t put into words the ex- citement I felt. I saw that business in the shop was

furious and there.was no need to wonder about the success my husband had enjoyed in those ten years, since I could see it displayed right before my eyes.

None of the employees in the store knew me, so I told them who I was and why I had come. A young clerk said to me, “The boss didn’t come down today. I’ll take you to his home.” Only then did I realize that my husband didn’t live in the shop; at the same time I guessed he had married again. If not, he certainly wouldn’t have kept a separate “home.” On the way I tried to sound out the clerk a bit, and it was just as I’d expected!

The rickshaw wound about through the streets and stopped at a two-story, half-Chinese, half- foreign building. The clerk said, “I’ll go in first and tell the boss.” I was left outside, and it was quite some time before he came back out and said, ”T)1e boss has gone out this morning and isn’t back yet. His wife asks you to go in and wait a while. Maybe he’ll be home soon.” He took my two cloth bundles-that was my only baggage- and I followed him in.

I saw that the rooms were plushly furnished. The so-called “boss’s wife” was a Malay woman. She came out and nodded perfunctorily. As far as I could see her manner was most disrespectful, but I didn’t understand Southeast Asian customs, so I just returned her greeting. She was wearing huge diamonds and pearls in her hair. Among the precious stones, gold, and silver that she wore, her swarthy face was conspicuous in its unbeara- ble ugliness. She exchanged polite pleasantries with me and had someone bring me a cup of coffee while she herself stayed to one side, smoking, chewing betel nut, and not engaging me in much conversation. I thought that was due to the uncer- tainties of a first meeting, and thus didn’t dare ask her too many questions. After a short time I heard the sound of horses coming from the main gate straight up to the portico and guessed it was my husband returning. I saw that he was much fatter than ten years ago and sported a potbelly. He had a cigar in his mouth, and was carrying an ivory stick in his hand. As he got out of the car- riage and stopped in the door, he hung his hat on the rack. Seeing me seated to one side, he was just

 

 

TI-SHAN

m~er suspicions about her. I put on a lake- green cotton blouse and a bright red skirt. When she saw them she couldn’t repress her laughter. I felt like a country bumpkin from head to toe and was quite embarrassed.

“That’s all right,” she said. “Our hosts aren’t from ‘Tang lands.’ They certainly won’t notice whether you’re wearing the latest fashions. Let’s go, then!”

The horse-drawn carriage went on for some time and then passed through a grove of coconut trees before arriving at our hosts’. Just inside the gate was a very large garden, and as I followed her into the sitting room, I looked about me. They really had a strange banquet set up. All the female guests were Malays or Indians, and they were in the midst of an animated and in- comprehensible conversation. My husband’s Malay wife left me by myself and went over to chat with them. Before long she left with a woman. I thought they had gone for a walk in the garden, and didn’t pay much attention. But after a good deal of time, when they hadn’t returned, I became a little anxious and said to one of the women present, “Where did the lady who came in with me go?” Although she could get my mean- ing, I didn’t understand a word of what she said in reply.

I sat on a cushion, my heart beating violently. A servant brought a pot of water and gestured to- ward the set table. I saw the others wash their hands and realized that it was a custom before eating. So I washed my hands. They showed me to a table. I didn’t have the faintest idea where I was supposed to sit and simply took the place they directed me to. They prayed before they selected what food they wanted, with their hands, from the platters. The first time I picked up something to eat with my fingers, it was certainly unwieldy, but they taught me how to do it. At that time I was very troubled by the absence of that Malay woman of my husband’s, so I wasn’t able to con- centrate on eating or socializing. After the tables were cleared, the guests kissed me with a smile and left.

about to ask me something when that Malay woman stepped forward and murmured a buzz of words at him. Although I didn’t understand what she said, I could tell from her expression that she wasn’t happy at all.

My husband turned to me and said, “Hsi-kuan, why didn’t you give me any notice before you decided to come? Who made you take the trip?” I had thought that once he saw me, he would be sure to say some tender words; I had never dreamed that he’d angrily demand an explana- tion! Then I suppressed my disgruntled feelings and forced a smile, saying, “But Yin-ko,” you know that I can’t write. And that letter writer in the village, Mr. Wang, often writes the wrong words for people, even to the point of getting the wrong meaning across. So I didn’t want him to write for me. Besides, I’d made up my mind to come look for you, and sooner or later I still would have had to set out. Why waste all the time and effort? Didn’t you say that if you hadn’t re- turned in five or six years I should come?”

“So you came up with this brilliant idea on your own, huh?” my husband scoffed.

When he finished he went straight into the house. What he said proved that he was a dif- ferent man from ten years ago. I couldn’t under- stand the reason behind all this. Was it because I was getting old, losing my charm? But I felt that I was so much prettier than that Malay woman. Could it be an accusation of misconduct? But I had pleased him all the years we had been mar- ried and had never gone beyond my bounds. To this day I haven’t been able to figure out the rid- dle of Yin-ko.

He put me up on the ground floor, and for seven or eight days didn’t come to my room even to speak to me. That Malay woman, however, was very hospitable. She came and told me, “Yin-ko has been rather upset these past few days because you showed up. But don’t worry too much about it; in a few days he won’t be angry anymore. We’re invited to dinner tonight. Why don’t you go get dressed and we’ll go together?”

These sweet words of hers completely dispelled

44

4 “Ko” is “brother,” used here as a suffix of affection.

 

 

THE MERCHANT’S WIFE 45 I too wanted to follow them out the door, but

the mistress of the house told me to wait a bit. I gestured to her in mute talk, and we were dying with laughter when an Indian man in his fifties came in from outside. The woman hurriedly got up and said a few words to him, and then they sat down together. Encountering a strange man while in a foreign place, I was naturally abashed. That man walked up to me and said, “Hello, you mine now. I use money to buy you. It good you stay here.” Although he spoke Chinese, his syntax, ac- cent, and tones were all wrong. When I heard him say he had bought me, I couldn’t help bursting into tears. The woman was at my side comforting me, trying to be nice about it. It was after nine, and they told me to go in and sleep, but I simply sat, fully dressed, through the night off to one side of the sitting room. How could I have done as they said?

Sir, hearing this much of my story you certainly must be wondering why I didn’t choose to die. Well, I had the same thoughts then, but they guarded me like a prisoner-no matter what time it was there was someone with me. As time went on, my violent emotions subsided; I gave up want- ing to die and decided to live this life of mine through and see what fate had in store for me.

The man who bought me was Ahuja, an Indian Muslim from Madras. He was a serge merchant, and since he had made a fortune in Singapore, he wanted to take another woman home with him to enjoy life. And my ill fate brought me to this chance, turning me into his foreign curio. Before I had lived a month in Singapore, he took me to Madras.

Ahuja gave me the name Liya. He made me un- bind my feet and pierced a hole in my nose, hang- ing a diamond nose ring through it. He said that according to their customs every married woman had to wear a nose ring, since that was the sign of a wife. He also had me wear a fine kurta, C a ma-la- mu, d and a pair of ai-san. e From then on I became a Muslim woman.

Ahuja had five wives-six including me. Among those five I got along best with the third. The remainder I detested, because they often took ad- vantage of my not being able to speak their lan- guage and made fun of me too. My small feet were naturally a rarity among them: although they couldn’t stop touching them, I didn’t take of- fense. What I hated was that they told tales to Ahuja about me and made me suffer.

Akolima was the name of Ahuja’s third wife- she was the very same woman who had arranged that dinner when I was sold. She was quite fond of me, often urging me to use surma f to line my eyes, and to dye my nails and palms with balsam flowers. Muslim women use these things daily, as we Chinese employ rouge and powder. She also taught me to read Bengali and Arabic. I remem- bered that because I couldn’t write a letter, I had given Yin-ko an excuse and ended up in this pre- dicament. Therefore, in this period when I hadn’t a single friend or relative around, I wanted to use the time to work hard at learning to read a bit. Al- though Akolima was not much of a scholar, she was more than good enough to be my teacher. I studied a year with her and then could actually write! She told me that in their religion there was a holy book, which wasn’t readily given to women, but that later she would be sure to bring it to teach me. She always said to me, “Your fate has been such a painful one because it was predeter- mined by Allah. Don’t keep thinking of your fam- ily! Someday it’s possible that great happiness will descend upon you, and it’d be too much for you to enjoy.” At that time such fatalistic words of comfort could actually raise my spirits somewhat.

Although I never felt a wife’s love for Ahuja, I had to live with him as man and wife. Ah! This child of mine (as she spoke she stroked the child’s head with her hand) was born the year after we arrived in Madras. I was over thirty when I be- came pregnant and had never in all my life expe- rienced such pain. Fortunately, Akolima was thoughtful and often comforted me with her

C Muslim woman’s upper garment. d A bodice. e Trousers. f Surma is generally used only by men. It is a powder applied to an iron’ rod and then inserted into the eyes by the traditional

Muslim vendor. It is intended as a cooling agent. Colerium, often called surma, is used as a sort of eyeshadow and is probably in- tended here.

 

 

HSU TI-SHAN

words, distracting me from the pain of that time. Once when she saw the pain was particularly bad, she said to me, “Hey, Liya! Be strong! We don’t have the fortune of the fig tree,” and so we can’t avoid the strain of pregnancy. When you’re going through painful times, appeal to Allah. If he has pity on you, he’ll grant you peace.” She helped me a lot when I was about to give birth. Even today I cannot forget her kindness to me.

Not more than four months after I gave birth, a disappointing turn of events distressed me: I was separated from my good friend. She didn’t die, but I’ll never find out where she went. Why did Akolima leave me? It’s a long story, but probably it was my fault.

We had a young, eighteen-year-old widow next door to us named Honna. She had been widowed since she was four. Her mother treated her cru- elly, but that wasn’t enough. She told her that her sins accumulated from her past lives were great, and if she didn’t pay for them through suffering, she would not be redeemed in her next life. Ev- erything that she ate or wore was worse than oth- ers’. She often wept secretly in the back yard. Since her garden was separated from ours only by a hedge, when I heard her there, crying, I would go and chat with her, sometimes to comfort, sometimes to offer something to eat, and some- times to give her a little money.

When Akolima first saw me help the girl, she didn’t feel it was right at all. I explained to her time after time that anyone in China could receive sorneone’s aid regardless of creed. She was influ- enced by me and later also showed compassion herself for that widow.

One day just as Akolima was handing a few pieces of silver to Honna through the hedge, she was accidentally seen by Ahuja. He kept quiet and tiptoed up behind her, gave her a slap and yelled, “You little bitch! You dirty sow! What are you

doing here?” As he went back in, so angry that his entire body trembled, he pointed his finger at Akolima and said, “Who told you to give money to that Brahman woman? You stained your own reputation! Not just your own, but mine and that of Islam. Ma-sha-Alliih!;; Take off your burqa h im- mediately!”

I heard clearly from inside, but thought that ev- erything would be normal again after the scold- ing. Who would have known that in no time at all Akolima would come in batting tears as big as pearls from her eyelashes, and say to me, “Liya, we’ll have to say goodbye.” When I heard this I was shocked and asked immediately, “What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

“Didn’t you hear him ask me to take off my veil? That means he’s disowning me. I’ll have to return to my family right now. You needn’t feel sorry for my sake, for after a couple of days when his anger subsides, he’ll probably have me come back.”

I was so grief-stricken, I didn’t know what to say to comfort her. We sobbed in each other’s arms and then parted. Indeed, as the couplet goes, “Those who kill and burn wear moneybelts; Those who repair bridges and fix roads turn into lepers.” What an apt description of human life!

After Akolima left, my desolate and sorrowful days started all over again. There were simply no feelings of friendship between Ahuja’S four other women and myself. As for Ahuja, as soon as I saw that thin strip of a dark face, with a beard like the spines of a porcupine, I would be filled with loath- ing and wish that he would leave the next second. My day-to-day life consisted of nurturing my child; aside from that there was nothing to do. I was so frightened by Akolima’s incident that I no longer dared venture into the garden for a stroll.

A few months later my painful days were about over, since Ahuja returned through an illness to

“This reference to the fig tree alludes to the Koran. where it is recorded that Adam and Eve, having been lured by the devil A- chatsei to eat the fruit Allah had forbidden them to, noticed immediately that their heavenly garments had vanished. They were ashamed by their nakedness and tried to borrow leaves from a tree in Eden to cover their bodies. Since they violated Allah’s command, none of the various types of trees dared loan them any. Only the fig tree, moved by their pitifulness, generously loaned them a few leaves. Allah approved of this conduct by the fig tree and conferred upon it the capability of producing fruit without going through the pain of blossoming and being disturbed by the bees and butterflies,

5 Hsu Ti-shan’s original gloss for this phrase is “Allah forbid.” However, it should mean “As Allah wills.” h A veil.

 

 

THE MERCHANT’S WIFE 47 his Paradise. I had heard Akolima say before that one hundred and thirty days after a husband’s death a wife became free, and could pick another match of her choosing. Originally, I wanted to wait until that prescribed day before leaving, but those four women were afraid I’d take advantage of them in the inheritance, because I had a child, so they put various pressures on me to drive me out. I still can’t bear to talk about their schemes.

Honna urged me to flee to her older sister’s. She told me to send a little money to her brother- in-law, and then I could take shelter with them. I’d already met her sister once, and she was a good person. When I thought about it, running away didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all. Those four women were treacherous by nature, and if I’d been caught in their schemes, I’d have had it. Honna’s brother-in-law lived in Arcot. I set things up with her and told her to let me know when she found a good opportunity.

A week later, Honna told me her mother had left town and wouldn’t be back until late at night, and I should climb across the hedge. This wasn’t an easy matter, because it must be done so that I wouldn’t cause Honna to suffer afterward. More- over, a barbed wire ran along the top of the hedge, making it difficult for me. I peered up at the jackfruit tree growing next to the hedge-{)ne branch stretched over to her side, and the tree had grown at a slanted angle. I told her to wait until everything was quiet and then to stand ready underneath the tree.

As it happened, the room I lived in had a small door leading into the garden. That evening, when there was just a little starlight in the sky, I packed my clothes and valuables into a bag, put on two extra layers of clothing, and was just about to leave when I saw my child sleeping there. I really didn’t want to take him along, but was afraid that when he woke he’d see I wasn’t there and would cry. So I stopped for a moment and picked him up in my arms to let him nurse. Only when he was nursing did I truly feel that I was his mother, and although I had no emotional tie to his father, I had still borne him. Moreover, once I’d gone, he

; A Muslim woman’s outer garment.

would certainly be ill-treated. As this thought crossed my mind, tears burst from my eyes. And yet to add the burden of a child to the escape would make my task even harder. After I consid- ered all this over and over again, I finally put him on my back and in a low voice said to him, “If you want to be a good boy, don’t cry! All right? You’ve got to sleep quietly too. ” Fortunately, it was as if he understood me then, and he didn’t make much noise. I left a letter on the bed explaining that I was willing to give up those possessions due me, and my reasons for running away, then went out that small door.

With one hand I steadied the child, with the other carried the bag, as I stole to the foot of the jackfruit tree. I tied the bag to a rope and slowly crawled up the tree, stopping for a moment when I reached the extended branch. Just then the child grunted once or twice. I patted him lightly and rocked him a few times, then pulled the bag up, tossing it over to Honna. I crawled over fur- ther and groped for the rope Honna had pre- pared for me. I grasped it tightly to me and slowly let myself down. My hands couldn’t stand the fric- tion and were cut by the rope in no time.

After I had descended and thanked Honna, I quickly left her house. Not far from Honna’s gate was the Adyar River. Honna went with me to rent a boat. After she had explained things clearly, she went back. The helmsman was an old codger and probably didn’t understand what Honna said. He rowed me to the Saidapet Terminal and bought a ticket for me. Since it was the first time I had taken a train, I wasn’t very clear about the regula- tions of rail travel. When he told me to get on, I just did as I was told. Only after the train had started and the conductor examined my train ticket did I learn I had boarded the wrong train.

When it arrived at an intermediate stop, I quickly got off, intending to wait for a return train. By that time it was the middle of the night, and the people in the station said no train would be going into Madras until dawn. I was forced to sit in the transit lounge. I spread my Ma-chih-la’ over me and put my hands in my pockets,

 

 

HSU TI-SHAN

pretending to sleep. At around three or four o’clock, looking up by chance, I saw a very distant gleam of lamplight through the railing. I quickly went to the platform and, pointing to the light, questioned the people standing there. There was one man who smiled and said, “This woman can’t tell one direction from another. She mistakes the morning star for the headlight on a train.” Taking a good look, I couldn’t help laughing as I said, “I’ll be darned! My eyes aren’t seeing right!”

As I faced Venus, I thought of something Ako- lima had said. She once told me that that star was the transformation of a woman who had been a siren good at bewitching men. Because of this I remembered that the feeling between Yin-ko and myself had been basically good, and that if he hadn’t been fooled by that foreign bitch, he never could have stood for having his beloved first wife sold off. My being sold couldn’t have been com- pletely Yin-ko’s responsibility. If I could have stood those painful days in China, and if I hadn’t decided to go to Singapore to rely on him, none of this would have happened. As I thought it over, I had to smile at my own impulsiveness in fleeing. I figured that since I had made it all right out of the place, what need was there to impose on Honna’s sister? When I had reached this con- clusion, I returned to my waiting place with the child in my arms and summoned all my energies to resolve this question. The things I’d run off with and my ready cash together were worth more than three thousand rupees. If I lived in a village, they could support my expenses for the rest of my life. So I decided on an independent life.

The stars in the sky one by one gathered in their light, until only Venus still twinkled in the east. As I looked at her, it was as if a voice beamed out from her saying, “Hsi-kuan, from now on don’t take me for a woman out to bewitch men. You should know that nothing which is bright and sterling could bewitch. Among all the stars, I ap- pear first, to tell you that darkness will soon ar- rive; I return last, so that you may receive the first rays of the sun on my heels. I’m the brightest star of the night. You could take me as the diligent awakener of your heart.” As I faced her, I felt ex-

uberant, and can’t describe the gratitude I felt in my heart. From that time on, whenever I saw her, I always had a special feeling.

I inquired about where an inn was to be found, and everyone said I’d have to go to Chinglepet to find one. So I took another train there. I didn’t live in the inn for long before I moved to my own home.

That house was bought with the money Ilgot in exchange for my diamond nose ring. It ~sn’t large-only two rooms and a small yard/with pineapple trees planted all around as an enclosing wall. Although Indian-style homes weren’t good, I loved the location near to the village and could not afford to be bothered by appearances either inside or outside. I hired an old woman to help with the housekeeping, and besides raising the child, I was able to find time to read some Indian books.

Every day at dusk, a rather solemn song would drift to my ears. I went into the garden for a look and saw that it came from a small house opposite mine. At first I didn’t know the purpose of their singing, and only later did I understand they were Christians. I met the mistress of the house, Eliza- beth, before long. And I often went to their eve- ning prayer meetings. Her family could be consid- ered the first friends I had in Chinglepet.

Elizabeth was a most amicable woman. She urged me to attend school. Moreoever, she prom- ised to take care of the child for me if I did. I felt that only a person completely without ambition would idle away the days, so the very next year she arranged for me to study at a woman’s school in Madras. I went home once a month to visit my child. She took care of him for me very well, so that I didn’t have to worry.

Since while at school I had nothing to divert my attention, my grades were very good. In this period of about six or seven years, not only did my knowledge progress, but my beliefs also changed. And since graduation I’ve worked as a teacher in a small village not far from Chinglepet. So that’s my whole life in outline; if I were to go into details, I couldn’t finish relating everything in a year’s time.

Now I’m going to Singapore to look for my hus-

 

 

THE MERCHANT’S WIFE 49

band, because I want to know just who it was that sold me. I firmly believe that Yin-ko couldn’t pos- sibly have accepted it. Even if it was his idea, then someday sooner or later he’ll repent.

Hsi-kuan and I had been talking for two full hours or more. She spoke very slowly, and the child bothered her from time to time, so she had not told me about her student life in much detail. Because she had talked for such a long time, I was afraid she would be tired out, and so I didn’t go on asking questions. I just said to her, “That you were able to find your way in life during such a period of drifting is really admirable. If you would like me to help you look for Yin-ko tomor- row when we reach Singapore, I’d be glad to do it.”

“It’s not really that I’m so smart. This way was merely one opened for me by some unknown heavenly mentor. When I was in school I was moved the most by Pilgrim’s Progress and Robinson Crusoe. These two books gave me much comfort and many things to learn from. Now I’m simply a female Crusoe. If you would help me search for Yin-ko, I’d be very grateful. Since I don’t really know Singapore, tomorrow I’ll need your-”

At this point the child began pestering her to go into the cabin and get some toys for him. She stood up, but continued speaking: “Tomorrow, I’ll need your help.”

I stood up and bowed as she left, then sat back down to record the conversation we’d just had in my diary, which I carried with me.

After twenty-four hours some mountain peaks appeared faintly in the southeast. All the people on the ship were very busy. Hsi-kuan too attended to packing and didn’t come out on deck. Only as the ship was entering the harbor did she appear, holding her child by the hand. She sat with me on a bench. “Sir,” she said to me, “I never ex- pected a chance to see this place again. The leaves of the coconut trees are still dancing; the sea gulls above the water are still flying back and forth to welcome strangers.

“My happiness is the same as it was nine years ago when I first met them. In the blink of an eye these years have passed-like an arrow-yet I

can’t find any difference between what I saw then and what I see now. So the expression ‘Time is like an arrow’ doesn’t refer to the speed at which an arrow flies, but to the arrow itself. For no mat- ter how fast time flies, things show no change-as something attached to an arrow, although it may fly with the arrow, doesn’t go through any changes at all. But though what I see today is the same, I hope Yin-ko’s affections won’t change as slowly as natural phenomena; I hope he’ll change his mind and accept me now.”

“I know how you feel,” I said. “I heard this ship will moor at Tanjong Pagar. I think that when we arrive, you should wait on board at first; I’ll go ashore to inquire a bit and then come back for you. What do you think?”

“This is getting to be more and more of a bother to you,” she said.

I went ashore and asked at a good number of homes, but they all said they didn’t know any Lin Yin-ch’iao. I couldn’t find even a trace of the sign for the grocery, “Yi-ho-ch’eng.” I was getting des- perate, and after being on my feet for the better part of the day, a bit tired, so I went into a Can- tonese teahouse to rest. By chance I picked up a clue there when I questioned the shopkeeper. Ac- cording to him, because Lin Yin-ch’iao had sold his wife to an Indian, he incurred the ill-feelings of the numerous Chinese in this area. At that time, some people said it was his idea to sell her, others said it was that foreign bitch who sold her; in the end it couldn’t be said for sure who did it. But his business suffered immensely because of this. He saw that he couldn’t stay in Singapore any longer, and so closed his shop and moved, lock, stock, and barrel, to some other place.

When I returned and had reported all that I had learned to Hsi-kuan, and, moreover, urged her to return to China, she said, “I can never go back. With this brown-skinned child, as soon as I got home, people would shame me and laugh at me. Besides, I can’t read Chinese at all. If I went, I’d just starve to death. I plan to stay in Singapore for a few days, to ask carefully about his where- abouts. If I can’t learn anything, I’ll return to India. Well, I’ve become an Indian now!”

From what I made of the situation, I truly could

 

 

5° HSU TI-SHAN

not think of anything to persuade her to return to her home town, and just sighed and said, “Your life is really full of misfortune, isn’t it?”

But she smiled. “Sir, in all human affairs, there is basically no distinction between the painful and the pleasurable. When you try too hard, it is pain- ful; when you have hope, it is pleasurable. As you’re actually doing something, it is painful, but to recall it is pleasurable. In other words, every- thing in the present is filled with suffering. The past, recollections of it, and hope are pleasant. Yesterday, as I related my experiences to you, you felt they were painful. My narration of past cir- cumstances, displayed before your eyes, led you to feel that they were events in the present. If I re- call them myself-the long separation, being sold, my escape, etc.-none of these events are without happiness. So you needn’t feel sorry for me. You

must be able to take things easy. I would only ask one thing of you: when you go back to China, if it is convenient, would you go to my village and let my mother know the latest news? She must be over seventy-she lives in Hung-chien. She’s the only relative I have left in China. Outside her gate there is a very tall olive tree. If you ask for Marne Liang, everyone will know.”

As the boat left the dock, she stood on the shore waving me off with a handkerchief. That sincere expression on her face is something I can never forget. Not more than a month after I got home I went to Hung-chien. The broken-down house under the olive tree was sealed up by old vines. Through a crack in the door I could see faintly several sets of rotting wooden ancestry tablets on the table. How could there have been a Marne Liang there?

 

  • Xu Dishan – The Merchants Wife p41
  • Xu Dishan – The Merchants Wife p42
  • Xu Dishan – The Merchants Wife p43
  • Xu Dishan – The Merchants Wife p44
  • Xu Dishan – The Merchants Wife p45
  • Xu Dishan – The Merchants Wife p46
  • Xu Dishan – The Merchants Wife p47
  • Xu Dishan – The Merchants Wife p48
  • Xu Dishan – The Merchants Wife p49
  • Xu Dishan – The Merchants Wife p50

Module 1 Discussion: Vargas Llosa and The Role of Literature in Society

Module 1 Discussion: Vargas Llosa and The Role of Literature in Society

Overview & Prompt

In one of our lecture presentations in this module is a quotation by the author, Vargas Llosa. Please read his comment below about the role of literature in society and respond in approximately one 250 word paragraph, stating whether you agree or disagree with the sentiments expressed by the author. Please also respond to at least one other student in our class.

A society without literature, or a society in which literature has been relegated—like some hidden vice—to the margins of social and personal life, and transformed into something like a sectarian cult, is a society condemned to become spiritually barbaric, even to jeopardize freedom.”

Vargas Llosa

Guidelines

Your initial response should be around 250 words. Stating whether you agree or disagree with the sentiments expressed by the author.

Then your response to a classmates’ discussion should be around 100 words and add to the discussion (i.e. posing questions, reflecting on their response, etc.). All posts and responses should contain proper grammar, be free of spelling errors, be substantial, and reflect critical thinking.

This is classmates opinion: (respond in 100 words following above instructions)

I whole-heartedly agree with the sentiment expressed by Llosa. If society attempted to prohibit or blacklist literature, we would inevitably regress into a society that suffers largely from ignorance and injustice. The assertion that society would become spiritually barbaric in the absence of literature can be applied quite literally in several cases because literary works such as the Bible, Quran, and Torah serve as the central foundation for spiritual instruction and guidance in many religions. Additionally, literature is what evokes thought and feeling. It is what allows us to foster emotional relationships with our ancestors and fellow-humans. The passionate response summoned by literature inspires the progression of humanity by cautioning us from repeating some of history’s greatest mistakes and motivating us to discover purpose and possibility. It connects us with something bigger than ourselves which, in essence, is the definition of spirituality. In Llosa’s quote, he also adds that even freedom would be jeopardized in a population in which literature is absent. This is true as it would definitely be eliminating our freedom of expression. It is also true in the sense that it would restrict the discovery of new ideas and thought processes. The freedom for humanity to move forward would largely be hindered if access to literature became restricted. Stories, poems, and plays are invaluable fuel for the kind of creativity and innovation that the advancement of mankind thrives upon. The worldly views we hold which encourage us to move forward as collective beings are, in large part, shaped by the independent and critical thinking skills that literature instills within us. Take literature away, and it’s easy to see how a spiritually barbaric and unfree society would result.

Module 2 Discussion: Narrator and Point of View

Overview and Prompt

In this module, you will be reading about plot and narrator in fiction, both of which are necessary for an effective narrator. In “Sonny’s Blues,” Baldwin has two main characters: Sonny and his brother. They each choose very different lifestyles and have a very difficult time understanding each other’s choices. Sonny’s brother often narrates with a sense of bafflement over Sonny’s love of music and drug addition–both part of the world that he inhabits.

After reading the story, reflect on an incident when you and a family member took a very different perspective. Why did you “see” this event differently? How was it resolved?

Review: Understanding Fiction Lecture Presentation link:

https://webapps.fsw.edu/online/LIT2000-201720/Module2/presentation_html5.html

Review: James Baldwin’s Sonny’s Blues Guided Reading (attached)

Read: James Baldwin’s short story “Sonny’s Blues” located in the textbook (attached)

View: Sonny’s Blues and James Baldwin Video Reading and Documentary Link:

https://youtu.be/KQebOxg29h4

View: Tiffany and Sonny Video https://youtu.be/6F_NkbLRZ8M

 

 

Module 1 Discussion: Vargas Llosa and The Role of Literature in Society

 

 

Overview & Prompt

 

In one of our lecture presentations in this module is a quotation by the author, Vargas Llosa. Please

read his comment below about the role of literature in

society and respond in approximately one 250

word paragraph, stating whether you agree or disagree with the sentiments expressed by the author.

Please also respond to at least one other student in our class.

 

A society without literature, or a society in w

hich literature has been relegated

like some hidden

vice

to the margins of social and personal life, and transformed into something like a sectarian cult,

is a society condemned to become spiritually barbaric, even to jeopardize freedom.”

 

Vargas Llosa

 

 

Gui

delines

 

Your initial response should be around 250 words.

Stating whether you agree or disagree with the

sentiments expressed by the author.

 

Then

your response to a classmates’ discussion should be around 100 words and add to the discussion

(i.e. posing qu

estions, reflecting on their response, etc.). All posts and responses should contain proper

grammar, be free of spelling errors, be substantial, and reflect critical thinking.

 

This is classmates opinion: (respond in 100 words following above instructions)

 

I whole

heartedly agree with the sentiment expressed by Llosa. If society attempted to prohibit or

blacklist literature, we would inevitably regress into a society that suffers largely from ignorance and

injustice. The assertion that society would become s

piritually barbaric in the absence of literature can be

applied quite literally in several cases because literary works such as the Bible, Quran, and Torah serve

as the central foundation for spiritual instruction and guidance in many religions. Additional

ly, literature

is what evokes thought and feeling. It is what allows us to foster emotional relationships with our

ancestors and fellow

humans. The passionate response summoned by literature inspires the progression

of humanity by cautioning us from repeat

ing some of history’s greatest mistakes and motivating us to

discover purpose and possibility. It connects us with something bigger than ourselves which, in essence,

is the definition of spirituality. In Llosa’s quote, he also adds that even freedom would

be jeopardized in

a population in which literature is absent. This is true as it would definitely be eliminating our freedom

of expression. It is also true in the sense that it would restrict the discovery of new ideas and thought

processes. The freedom fo

r humanity to move forward would largely be hindered if access to literature

became restricted. Stories, poems, and plays are invaluable fuel for the kind of creativity and innovation

that the advancement of mankind thrives upon. The worldly views we hold

which encourage us to move

forward as collective beings are, in large part, shaped by the independent and critical thinking skills that

literature instills within us. Take literature away, and it’s easy to see how a spiritually barbaric and

unfree society

would result.

 

Module 1 Discussion: Vargas Llosa and The Role of Literature in Society

Overview & Prompt

In one of our lecture presentations in this module is a quotation by the author, Vargas Llosa. Please

read his comment below about the role of literature in society and respond in approximately one 250

word paragraph, stating whether you agree or disagree with the sentiments expressed by the author.

Please also respond to at least one other student in our class.

“A society without literature, or a society in which literature has been relegated—like some hidden

vice—to the margins of social and personal life, and transformed into something like a sectarian cult,

is a society condemned to become spiritually barbaric, even to jeopardize freedom.”

Vargas Llosa

Guidelines

Your initial response should be around 250 words. Stating whether you agree or disagree with the

sentiments expressed by the author.

Then your response to a classmates’ discussion should be around 100 words and add to the discussion

(i.e. posing questions, reflecting on their response, etc.). All posts and responses should contain proper

grammar, be free of spelling errors, be substantial, and reflect critical thinking.

This is classmates opinion: (respond in 100 words following above instructions)

I whole-heartedly agree with the sentiment expressed by Llosa. If society attempted to prohibit or

blacklist literature, we would inevitably regress into a society that suffers largely from ignorance and

injustice. The assertion that society would become spiritually barbaric in the absence of literature can be

applied quite literally in several cases because literary works such as the Bible, Quran, and Torah serve

as the central foundation for spiritual instruction and guidance in many religions. Additionally, literature

is what evokes thought and feeling. It is what allows us to foster emotional relationships with our

ancestors and fellow-humans. The passionate response summoned by literature inspires the progression

of humanity by cautioning us from repeating some of history’s greatest mistakes and motivating us to

discover purpose and possibility. It connects us with something bigger than ourselves which, in essence,

is the definition of spirituality. In Llosa’s quote, he also adds that even freedom would be jeopardized in

a population in which literature is absent. This is true as it would definitely be eliminating our freedom

of expression. It is also true in the sense that it would restrict the discovery of new ideas and thought

processes. The freedom for humanity to move forward would largely be hindered if access to literature

became restricted. Stories, poems, and plays are invaluable fuel for the kind of creativity and innovation

that the advancement of mankind thrives upon. The worldly views we hold which encourage us to move

forward as collective beings are, in large part, shaped by the independent and critical thinking skills that

literature instills within us. Take literature away, and it’s easy to see how a spiritually barbaric and

unfree society would result.

Please find this session’s reflection question below. In the reflection essay, I ask you to respond to the assigned questions and/or to raise questions related to the text included in the reflection prompts.

Please find this session’s reflection question below. In the reflection essay, I ask you to respond to the assigned questions and/or to raise questions related to the text included in the reflection prompts. Please submit your reflection essay (about 200 words for each discussion forum)

Compare Xu Dishan’s “Merchant’s wife” to Lu Xun’s Hsiang Lin’s wife, how do these two women act differently towards their miseries?

One of the most successful strategies Frederick Douglass used for learning to read was

One of the most successful strategies Frederick Douglass used for learning to read was

1. memorizing books read by Mrs. Auld.

2. having his white playmates to teach him in exchange for biscuits.

3. buying books from Mr. Knight on Thames Street.

The author of “Soon his steady, ivory stride was heard, as to and fro he paced his old rounds, upon planks so familiar to his tread, that they were all over dented, like geological stones, with the peculiar marks of his walk. Did you fixedly gaze, too, upon that ribbed and dented brow; there also, you would see still stranger footprints–the footprints of his one unsleeping, ever pacing thought” is

1. Edgar Allan Poe.

2. Walt Witman.

3. Herman Melville.

In this passage from “Song of Myself:” “I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin, / Hoping to cease not till death” the elements of free verse are

1. irregular meter, exact rhyme, irregular line length.

2. irregular meter, natural speech cadence, irregular line length.

3. exact rhyme, natural speech cadence, irregular line length.

This line contains a slant rhyme: “Between the light–and me . . . I could not see to see–“

1. true

2. false

Supernatural overtones are rarely found in Gothic literature.

1. true

2. false

“Go Down, Moses” and “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” contain Biblical allusions and allegory.

1. true

2. false

People trapped between goodness and evil is often seen in the literature of the Anti-Transcendentalists.

1. true

2. false

Determine the meaning of this sentence from “The Raven:” “But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only / That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.”

1. The Raven has no feelings.

2. The Raven is afraid to speak to the narrator of the poem.

3. The Raven expresses all his thoughts with one word.

Which of the following is the reason McKim’s brigade lost the skirmish according to “A Confederate Account of the Battle of Gettysburg?

1. The opposing army was much larger.

2. The soldiers were poorly equipped.

3. The attack was poorly planned.

The literary element of __________is when third-person accounts of characters and situations are used such as in Moby-Dick.

1. characterization

2. point of view

3. theme

Grotesque gloomy settings are typical of Gothic literature.

1. true

2. false

Poetic sound devices are found in “The Raven.”

1. true

2. false

Determine what Frederick Douglass means in the following quotation: “My feelings were not the result of any marked cruelty in the treatment I received; they sprung from the consideration of my being a slave at all. It was slavery–not its mere incidents–that I hated.”

1. Douglass hated the day-to-day aspects of his life as a slave.

2. Douglass was treated badly by his owners.

3. Douglass was a proud man who believed himself entitled to freedom.

Who wrote, “The South, in my opinion, has been aggrieved by the acts of the North, as you say. I feel the aggression and am willing to take every proper step for redress. It is the principle I contend for, not individual or private benefit. As an American citizen, I take great pride in my country, her prosperity and institutions, and would defend any state if her rights were invaded.”

1. Frederick Douglass

2. Robert E. Lee

3. Abraham Lincoln

Who wrote the following: “One of the phantasmagoric conceptions of my friend, partaking not so rigidly of the spirit of abstraction, may be shadowed forth, although feebly, in his words. A small picture presented the interior of an immensely long and rectangular vault or tunnel, with low walls, smooth, white and without interruption or device. Certain accessory points of design served well to convey the idea this excavation lay at an exceeding depth below the surface of the earth”?

1. Edgar Allan Poe

2. Walt Whitman

3. Herman Melville

The author of “The Americans of all nations at any time upon the earth have probably the fullest poetical nature. The United States themselves are essentially the greatest poem. In the history of the earth hitherto the largest and most stirring appear tame and orderly to their ampler largeness and stir” is

1. Mary Chesnut.

2. Herman Melville.

3. Walt Whitman.

The following paradox is an effect from Douglass’ efforts to educate himself:

1. Even as he accumulates more facts, he is more uncertain of his principles.

2. Forbidden to read as a child, he grows up to be an important writer.

3. The more he learns, the more unhappy with his situation as a slave he becomes.

The human potential for evil as the main idea in “The Minister/’s Black Veil” is an example of the literary element of

1. plot.

2. theme.

3. allegory.

“Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal” was written by

1. Abraham Lincoln.

2. Frederick Douglas.

3. Warren Lee Goss.

Herman Melville’s characters are easily seen as either good or evil.

1. true

2. false

“A letter, however, had lately reached me in a distant part of the country–a letter from him–which, in its wildly importunate nature, had admitted of no other than a personal reply” by Edgar Allan Poe is best paraphrased as

1. “His letter, which was distant in tone, concerned an unfortunate occurrence.”

2. “I had received a letter so insistent that I had to send a personal reply.”

3. “I wrote him a friendly letter, to which he immediately replied.”

Political ideology is found in the persuasive speech in “The Gettysburg Address.”

1. true

2. false

It is most likely that the line in “Water, is taught by thirst” that pairs birds and snow refers to

1. birds enjoying winter and playing in the snow.

2. hunting birds for food in winter because crops cannot be planted in the snow.

3. realizing how much one appreciates birds when they are gone in wintertime.

Based on “The Minister’s Black Veil,” how would you describe Hawthorne’s view of human nature?

1. uncaring

2. pessimistic

3. naive

____ 25.

In Moby-Dick, Starbuck discourages Ahab from trying to kill the whale.

1. true

2. false

The following statement is a central theme of “The Raven:

1. The dead return from their grave in one way or another.

2. People look in vain for solace.

3. Hard times will pass.

“On they pressed to within about twenty or thirty paces of the works–a small but gallant band of heroes daring to attempt what could not be done by flesh and blood.” This quote, taken from “A Confederate Account of the Battle of Gettysburg” is saying

1. Randolph McKim is ashamed of his troops.

2. the brigade was attempting an impossible mission.

3. the brigade succeeded in its original goal.

The story, “The Fall of the House of Usher” is ambiguous, so we don’t actually know if Roderick attempted to kill Madeline by burying her alive.

1. true

2. false

An anti-Transcendentalist interpretation of “The Raven” is that nature, as represented by the Raven, helps the speaker cope with his loss.

1. true

2. false

In Moby-Dick, Captain Ahab is shown as a proud and stubborn man. This is an example of the literary element of

1. point of view.

2. theme.

3. characterization.

A Romantic interpretation of “The Raven” is that the Raven is an evil villain who has come to kill the speaker.

1. true

2. false

In “The Minister’s Black Veil,” teaching about the human tendency to scapegoat others is what type of literary device?

1. parable

2. alliteration

3. onomatopoeia

The author of “We paused before a House that seemed/A Swelling of the Ground–/ The Roof was scarcely visible–/ The Cornice–in the Ground/ Since then–’tis Centuries–and yet / Feels shorter than the Day / I first surmised the Horses Heads / Were toward Eternity–” is

1. Walt Whitman.

2. Emily Dickinson.

3. Mary Chesnut.

Walt Whitman is saying ______________ in the lines, “I celebrate myself, and sing myself / And what I assume you shall assume, / For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.”

1. He cares only about himself.

2. celebrating life benefits everyone.

3. He thinks he is an epic hero.

“These men all talked so delightfully. For once in my life I listened. That over, business again, In earnest, Governor Means rummaged a sword and red sash from somewhere and brought it for Colonel Chesnut, who has gone to demand the surrender of Fort Sumter” was written by

1. Emily Dickinson.

2. Walt Whitman.

3. Mary Chesnut.

Stressing the goodness in human nature is typical of anti-Transcendentalism.

1. true

2. false

As the ship sinks in Moby-Dick, Ahab’s flag is nailed to the mast by a crew member. The larger theme of ____________is exemplified by this action.

1. American’s loss of innocence

2. nature’s essential evil

3. the futility of human efforts to dominate nature

In Moby-Dick, Captain Ahab’s motivation for wanting to kill the whale is to protect his crew.

1. true

2. false

“Seized with a determination to learn to read, at any cost, I hit upon many expedients to accomplish the desired end. The plea which I mainly adopted, and the one by which I was most successful, was that of using my young white playmates, with whom I met in the street, as teachers” was written by Warren Lee Goss.

1. true

2. false

We can infer ___________________ from the passage, “The Minister’s Black Veil’ “When the friend shows his inmost heart to his friend, the lover to his best beloved; when man does not vainly shrink from the eye of his Creator, loathsomely treasuring up the secret of his sin, then deem me a monster, for the symbol beneath which I have lived and die! I look around me, and lo! on every visage a Black Veil.”

1. Each person hides his or her darkest secrets from others for fear of what others will think.

2. Love is something not to be valued.

3. It is sometimes good to hide secrets from other people.

The use of the Pequod to represent the human race throughout Moby-Dick is the literary device of

1. allegory.

2. aphorism.

3. anecdote.

Which of the following is true in “The Minister’s Black Veil” of a parable showing the characters, events, and details of setting?

1. being historical in nature.

2. being simplified to teach a moral lesson.

3. being described in realistic detail.

The following two adjectives describes nature in Moby-Dick.

1. majestic and elusive

2. foolish and vengeful

3. violent but tamable

Who wrote, “Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, / ‘Sir,’ said I, ‘or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore: / But the fact is I was napping and so gently you came rapping, / And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, / That I scarce was sure I heard you?’–here I opened wide the door, / Darkness there and nothing more”?

1. Edgar Allan Poe.

2. Robert E. Lee.

3. Warren Lee Goss.

“The next day, the whole village of Milford talked of little else than Parson Hooper’s black veil. That, and the mystery concealed behind it, supplied a topic of discussion between acquaintances meeting in the street, and good women gossiping at their open windows, It was the first item of news that the tavern keeper told his guests. The children babbled of it on their way to school.” This quote from “The Minister’s Black Veil” shows Hawthorne thinks

1. most human beings gossip too much.

2. people should talk about what is happening in their community.

3. children are the worst gossipers.

In “Recollections of a Private,” Goss says he stood before the recruiting office and reread the recruiting advertisement. He says, “I thought I might have made a mistake in considering war so serious after all.” What he means is that the advertisement made the war sound like

1. an unrewarding experience.

2. a good opportunity.

3. a deadly business.

Anti-Transcendentalist literature rarely focuses on human limitations.

1. true

2. false

The following quote, “It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us–that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion–that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain–that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom–and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from this earth” is attributed to

1. Frederick Douglass.

2. Abraham Lincoln.

3. Edgar Allan Poe.

Moby-Dick suggests that human beings can control nature through force of will.

1. true

2. false

Moby-Dick has as one of its central themes

1. whaling is indefensible.

2. human understanding is limited.

3. only the strongest survive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Minister’s Black Veil – Nathaniel Hawthorne

 

· http://andromeda.rutgers.edu/~jlynch/Texts/ministersblackveil.html

 

Moby Dick – Herman Melville

· https://www.planetebook.com/free-ebooks/moby-dick.pdf

· Chapter 36 The Quarter-Deck and Chapter 135 The Chase—Third Day.

 

The Fall of the House of Usher – Edgar Allan Poe

· https://poestories.com/read/houseofusher

 

The Raven – Edgar Allan Poe

 

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—

Only this and nothing more.”

 

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Nameless here for evermore.

 

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

“’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

This it is and nothing more.”

 

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—

Darkness there and nothing more.

 

 

Where to Here? – Joyce Carol Oates

· http://www.gmsdk12.org/Downloads/WhereIsHerefulltext.pdf

 

 

“from My Bondage and Freedom” – Frederick Douglas

I lived in the family of Master Hugh, at Baltimore, seven years, during which time–as the almanac makers say of the weather–my condition was variable. The most interesting feature of my history here, was my learning to read and write, under somewhat marked disadvantages. In attaining this knowledge, I was compelled to resort to indirections by no means congenial to my nature, and which were really humiliating to me. My mistress– who, as the reader has already seen, had begun to teach me was suddenly checked in her benevolent design, by the strong advice of her husband. In faithful compliance with this advice, the good lady had not only ceased to instruct me, herself, but had set her face as a flint against my learning to read by any means. It is due, however, to my mistress to say, that she did not adopt this course in all its stringency at the first. She either thought it unnecessary, or she lacked the depravity indispensable to shutting me up in mental darkness. It was, at least, necessary for her to have some training, and some hardening, in the exercise of the slaveholder’s prerogative, to make her equal to forgetting my human nature and character, and to treating me as a thing destitute of a moral or an intellectual nature. Mrs. Auld–my mistress–was, as I have said, a most kind and tender-hearted woman; and, in the humanity of her heart, and the simplicity of her mind, she set out, when I first went to live with her, to treat me as she supposed one human being ought to treat another.

It is easy to see, that, in entering upon the duties of a slaveholder, some little experience is needed. Nature has done almost nothing to prepare men and women to be either slaves or slaveholders. Nothing but rigid training, long persisted in, can perfect the character of the one or the other. One cannot easily forget to love freedom; and it is as hard to cease to respect that natural love in our fellow creatures. On entering upon the career of a slaveholding mistress, Mrs. Auld was singularly deficient; nature, which fits nobody for such an office, had done less for her than any lady I had known. It was no easy matter to induce her to think and to feel that the curly-headed boy, who stood by her side, and even leaned on her lap; who was loved by little Tommy, and who loved little Tommy in turn; sustained to her only the relation of a chattel. I was _more_ than that, and she felt me to be more than that. I could talk and sing; I could laugh and weep; I could reason and remember; I could love and hate. I was human, and she, dear lady, knew and felt me to be so. How could she, then, treat me as a brute, without a mighty struggle with all the noble powers of her own soul. That struggle came, and the will and power of the husband was victorious. Her noble soul was overthrown; but, he that overthrew it did not, himself, escape the consequences. He, not less than the other parties, was injured in his domestic peace by the fall.

When I went into their family, it was the abode of happiness and contentment. The mistress of the house was a model of affection and tenderness. Her fervent piety and watchful uprightness made it impossible to see her without thinking and feeling–“_that woman is a Christian_.” There was no sorrow nor suffering for which she had not a tear, and there was no innocent joy for which she did not a smile. She had bread for the hungry, clothes for the naked, and comfort for every mourner that came within her reach. Slavery soon proved its ability to divest her of these excellent qualities, and her home of its early happiness. Conscience cannot stand much violence. Once thoroughly broken down, _who_ is he that can repair the damage? It may be broken toward the slave, on Sunday, and toward the master on Monday. It cannot endure such shocks. It must stand entire, or it does not stand at all. If my condition waxed bad, that of the family waxed not better. The first step, in the wrong direction, was the violence done to nature and to conscience, in arresting the benevolence that would have enlightened my young mind. In ceasing to instruct me, she must begin to justify herself _to_ herself; and, once consenting to take sides in such a debate, she was riveted to her position. One needs very little knowledge of moral philosophy, to see _where_ my mistress now landed. She finally became even more violent in her opposition to my learning to read, than was her husband himself. She was not satisfied with simply doing as _well_ as her husband had commanded her, but seemed resolved to better his instruction. Nothing appeared to make my poor mistress–after her turning toward the downward path–more angry, than seeing me, seated in some nook or corner, quietly reading a book or a newspaper. I have had her rush at me, with the utmost fury, and snatch from my hand such newspaper or book, with something of the wrath and consternation which a traitor might be supposed to feel on being discovered in a plot by some dangerous spy.

Mrs. Auld was an apt woman, and the advice of her husband, and her own experience, soon demonstrated, to her entire satisfaction, that education and slavery are incompatible with each other. When this conviction was thoroughly established, I was most narrowly watched in all my movements. If I remained in a separate room from the family for any considerable length of time, I was sure to be suspected of having a book, and was at once called upon to give an account of myself. All this, however, was entirely _too late_. The first, and never to be retraced, step had been taken. In teaching me the alphabet, in the days of her simplicity and kindness, my mistress had given me the _”inch,”_ and now, no ordinary precaution could prevent me from taking the _”ell.”_

Seized with a determination to learn to read, at any cost, I hit upon many expedients to accomplish the desired end. The plea which I mainly adopted, and the one by which I was most successful, was that of using my young white playmates, with whom I met in the streets as teachers. I used to carry, almost constantly, a copy of Webster’s spelling book in my pocket; and, when sent of errands, or when play time was allowed me, I would step, with my young friends, aside, and take a lesson in spelling. I generally paid my _tuition fee_ to the boys, with bread, which I also carried in my pocket. For a single biscuit, any of my hungry little comrades would give me a lesson more valuable to me than bread. Not every one, however, demanded this consideration, for there were those who took pleasure in teaching me, whenever I had a chance to be taught by them. I am strongly tempted to give the names of two or three of those little boys, as a slight testimonial of the gratitude and affection I bear them, but prudence forbids; not that it would injure me, but it might, possibly, embarrass them; for it is almost an unpardonable offense to do any thing, directly or indirectly, to promote a slave’s freedom, in a slave state. It is enough to say, of my warm-hearted little play fellows, that they lived on Philpot street, very near Durgin & Bailey’s shipyard.

Although slavery was a delicate subject, and very cautiously talked about among grown up people in Maryland, I frequently talked about it–and that very freely–with the white boys. I would, sometimes, say to them, while seated on a curb stone or a cellar door, “I wish I could be free, as you will be when you get to be men.” “You will be free, you know, as soon as you are twenty-one, and can go where you like, but I am a slave for life. Have I not as good a right to be free as you have?” Words like these, I observed, always troubled them; and I had no small satisfaction in wringing from the boys, occasionally, that fresh and bitter condemnation of slavery, that springs from nature, unseared and unperverted. Of all consciences let me have those to deal with which have not been bewildered by the cares of life. I do not remember ever to have met with a _boy_, while I was in slavery, who defended the slave system; but I have often had boys to console me, with the hope that something would yet occur, by which I might be made free. Over and over again, they have told me, that “they believed I had as good a right to be free as _they_ had;” and that “they did not believe God ever made any one to be a slave.” The reader will easily see, that such little conversations with my play fellows, had no tendency to weaken my love of liberty, nor to render me contented with my condition as a slave.

When I was about thirteen years old, and had succeeded in learning to read, every increase of knowledge, especially respecting the FREE STATES, added something to the almost intolerable burden of the thought–I AM A SLAVE FOR LIFE. To my bondage I saw no end. It was a terrible reality, and I shall never be able to tell how sadly that thought chafed my young spirit. Fortunately, or unfortunately, about this time in my life, I had made enough money to buy what was then a very popular school book, viz: the _Columbian Orator_. I bought this addition to my library, of Mr. Knight, on Thames street, Fell’s Point, Baltimore, and paid him fifty cents for it. I was first led to buy this book, by hearing some little boys say they were going to learn some little pieces out of it for the Exhibition. This volume was, indeed, a rich treasure, and every opportunity afforded me, for a time, was spent in diligently perusing it. Among much other interesting matter, that which I had perused and reperused with unflagging satisfaction, was a short dialogue between a master and his slave. The slave is represented as having been recaptured, in a second attempt to run away; and the master opens the dialogue with an upbraiding speech, charging the slave with ingratitude, and demanding to know what he has to say in his own defense. Thus upbraided, and thus called upon to reply, the slave rejoins, that he knows how little anything that he can say will avail, seeing that he is completely in the hands of his owner; and with noble resolution, calmly says, “I submit to my fate.” Touched by the slave’s answer, the master insists upon his further speaking, and recapitulates the many acts of kindness which he has performed toward the slave, and tells him he is permitted to speak for himself. Thus invited to the debate, the quondam slave made a spirited defense of himself, and thereafter the whole argument, for and against slavery, was brought out. The master was vanquished at every turn in the argument; and seeing himself to be thus vanquished, he generously and meekly emancipates the slave, with his best wishes for his prosperity. It is scarcely necessary to say, that a dialogue, with such an origin, and such an ending–read when the fact of my being a slave was a constant burden of grief–powerfully affected me; and I could not help feeling that the day might come, when the well-directed answers made by the slave to the master, in this instance, would find their counterpart in myself.

This, however, was not all the fanaticism which I found in this _Columbian Orator_. I met there one of Sheridan’s mighty speeches, on the subject of Catholic Emancipation, Lord Chatham’s speech on the American war, and speeches by the great William Pitt and by Fox. These were all choice documents to me, and I read them, over and over again, with an interest that was ever increasing, because it was ever gaining in intelligence; for the more I read them, the better I understood them. The reading of these speeches added much to my limited stock of language, and enabled me to give tongue to many interesting thoughts, which had frequently flashed through my soul, and died away for want of utterance. The mighty power and heart-searching directness of truth, penetrating even the heart of a slaveholder, compelling him to yield up his earthly interests to the claims of eternal justice, were finely illustrated in the dialogue, just referred to; and from the speeches of Sheridan, I got a bold and powerful denunciation of oppression, and a most brilliant vindication of the rights of man. Here was, indeed, a noble acquisition. If I ever wavered under the consideration, that the Almighty, in some way, ordained slavery, and willed my enslavement for his own glory, I wavered no longer. I had now penetrated the secret of all slavery and oppression, and had ascertained their true foundation to be in the pride, the power and the avarice of man. The dialogue and the speeches were all redolent of the principles of liberty, and poured floods of light on the nature and character of slavery. With a book of this kind in my hand, my own human nature, and the facts of my experience, to help me, I was equal to a contest with the religious advocates of slavery, whether among the whites or among the colored people, for blindness, in this matter, is not confined to the former. I have met many religious colored people, at the south, who are under the delusion that God requires them to submit to slavery, and to wear their chains with meekness and humility. I could entertain no such nonsense as this; and I almost lost my patience when I found any colored man weak enough to believe such stuff. Nevertheless, the increase of knowledge was attended with bitter, as well as sweet results. The more I read, the more I was led to abhor and detest slavery, and my enslavers. “Slaveholders,” thought I, “are only a band of successful robbers, who left their homes and went into Africa for the purpose of stealing and reducing my people to slavery.” I loathed them as the meanest and the most wicked of men. As I read, behold! the very discontent so graphically predicted by Master Hugh, had already come upon me. I was no longer the lighthearted, gleesome boy, full of mirth and play, as when I landed first at Baltimore. Knowledge had come; light had penetrated the moral dungeon where I dwelt; and, behold! there lay the bloody whip, for my back, and here was the iron chain; and my good, _kind master_, he was the author of my situation. The revelation haunted me, stung me, and made me gloomy and miserable. As I writhed under the sting and torment of this knowledge, I almost envied my fellow slaves their stupid contentment. This knowledge opened my eyes to the horrible pit, and revealed the teeth of the frightful dragon that was ready to pounce upon me, but it opened no way for my escape. I have often wished myself a beast, or a bird–anything, rather than a slave. I was wretched and gloomy, beyond my ability to describe. I was too thoughtful to be happy. It was this everlasting thinking which distressed and tormented me; and yet there was no getting rid of the subject of my thoughts. All nature was redolent of it. Once awakened by the silver trump of knowledge, my spirit was roused to eternal wakefulness. Liberty! the inestimable birthright of every man, had, for me, converted every object into an asserter of this great right. It was heard in every sound, and beheld in every object. It was ever present, to torment me with a sense of my wretched condition. The more beautiful and charming were the smiles of nature, the more horrible and desolate was my condition. I saw nothing without seeing it, and I heard nothing without hearing it. I do not exaggerate, when I say, that it looked from every star, smiled in every calm, breathed in every wind, and moved in every storm.

I have no doubt that my state of mind had something to do with the change in the treatment adopted, by my once kind mistress toward me. I can easily believe, that my leaden, downcast, and discontented look, was very offensive to her. Poor lady! She did not know my trouble, and I dared not tell her. Could I have freely made her acquainted with the real state of my mind, and given her the reasons therefor, it might have been well for both of us. Her abuse of me fell upon me like the blows of the false prophet upon his ass; she did not know that an _angel_ stood in the way; and–such is the relation of master and slave I could not tell her. Nature had made us _friends; slavery made us _enemies_. My interests were in a direction opposite to hers, and we both had our private thoughts and plans. She aimed to keep me ignorant; and I resolved to know, although knowledge only increased my discontent. My feelings were not the result of any marked cruelty in the treatment I received; they sprung from the consideration of my being a slave at all. It was _slavery_–not its mere _incidents_–that I hated. I had been cheated. I saw through the attempt to keep me in ignorance; I saw that slaveholders would have gladly made me believe that they were merely acting under the authority of God, in making a slave of me, and in making slaves of others; and I treated them as robbers and deceivers. The feeding and clothing me well, could not atone for taking my liberty from me. The smiles of my mistress could not remove the deep sorrow that dwelt in my young bosom. Indeed, these, in time, came only to deepen my sorrow. She had changed; and the reader will see that I had changed, too. We were both victims to the same overshadowing evil–_she_, as mistress, I, as slave. I will not censure her harshly; she cannot censure me, for she knows I speak but the truth, and have acted in my opposition to slavery, just as she herself would have acted, in a reverse of circumstances.

 

“Go Down, Moses” – Spirituals

Go down, Moses

Way down in Egypt land

Tell old Pharaoh

To let my people go.

When Israel was in Egypt’s land;

Let my people go

Oppressed so hard they could not stand

Let my people go.

Go down, Moses

Way down in Egypt land

Tell old Pharaoh

“Let my people go.”

“Thus saith the Lord,” bold Moses said,

“Let my people go;

If not I’ll smite your first-born dead

Let my people go.”

Go down, Moses,

Way down in Egypt land,

Tell old Pharaoh,

“Let my people go!”

“Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” – Spiritual

Swing low sweet chariot. Coming for to carry me home,

Swing low sweet chariot, Coming for to carry me home. I looked over Jordan and what did I see Coming for to carry me home. A band of angels coming after me, Coming for to carry me home. If you get there before I do, Coming for to carry me home, Tell all my friends I’m coming too, Coming for to carry me home.

 

Swing low, sweet chariot, Coming for to carry me home,

Swing Low, Sweet Chariot, Coming for to carry me home.

 

 

“The Gettysburg Address” – Abraham Lincoln

Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth, on this continent, a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived, and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting-place for those who here gave their lives, that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate—we cannot hallow—this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they here gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

 

“Letter to his Son” – Robert E. Lee

I received Everett’s “Life of Washington” which you sent me, and enjoyed its perusal. How his spirit would be grieved could he see the wreck of his mighty labors! I will not, however, permit myself to believe, until all ground of hope is gone, that the fruit of his noble deeds will be destroyed, and that his precious advice and virtuous example will so soon be forgotten by his countrymen. As far as I can judge by the papers, we are between a state of anarchy and civil war. May God avert both of these evils from us! I fear that mankind will not for years be sufficiently Christianized to bear the absence of restraint and force. I see that four States have declared themselves out of the Union; four more will apparently follow their example. Then, if the Border States are brought into the gulf of revolution, one-half of the country will be arrayed against the other. I must try and be patient and await the end, for I can do nothing to hasten or retard it. The South, in my opinion, has been aggrieved by the acts of the North, as you say. I feel the aggression, and am willing to take every proper step for redress. It is the principle I contend for, not individual or private benefit. As an American citizen, I take great pride in my country, her prosperity and institutions, and would defend any State if her rights were invaded. 199 From The Civil War: The First Year Told by Those Who Lived It (The Library of America, 2011), pages 199–200. From J. William Jones, Life and Letters of Robert Edward Lee, Soldier and Man (1906). But I can anticipate no greater calamity for the country than a dissolution of the Union. It would be an accumulation of all the evils we complain of, and I am willing to sacrifice everything but honor for its preservation. I hope, therefore, that all constitutional means will be exhausted before there is a resort to force. Secession is nothing but revolution. The framers of our Constitution never exhausted so much labor, wisdom, and forbearance in its formation, and surrounded it with so many guards and securities, if it was intended to be broken by every member of the Confederacy at will. It was intended for “perpetual union,” so expressed in the preamble, and for the establishment of a government, not a compact, which can only be dissolved by revolution, or the consent of all the people in convention assembled. It is idle to talk of secession. Anarchy would have been established, and not a government, by Washington, Hamilton, Jefferson, Madison, and the other patriots of the Revolution. … . Still, a Union that can only be maintained by swords and bayonets, and in which strife and civil war are to take the place of brotherly love and kindness, has no charm for me. I shall mourn for my country and for the welfare and progress of mankind. If the Union is dissolved, and the Government disrupted, I shall return to my native State and share the miseries of my people, and save in defense will draw my sword on none.

 

“By the Bivouac’s Fitful Flame” – Walk Whitman

By the bivouac’s fitful flame,

A procession winding around me, solemn and sweet and slow- but first I note,

The tents of the sleeping army, the fields and woods’ dim outline,

The darkness lit by spots of kindled fire, the silence,

Like a phantom far or near an occasional figure moving,

The shrubs and trees, (as I lift my eyes they seem to be stealthily watching me,)

While wind in procession thoughts, O tender and wondrous thoughts,

Of life and death, of home and the past and loved, and of those that are far away;

A solemn and slow procession there as I sit on the ground,

By the bivouac’s fitful flame.

“from Mary Chesnut’s Civil War” – Mary Chesnut

https://www.breathitt.k12.ky.us/userfiles/46/Classes/7162/UNIT3359-392-0.pdf

 

“Recollections of A Private” – Waren Lee Goss

http://www.southpoint.k12.oh.us/Downloads/img-314133150-0001.pdf

 

“A Confederate Account of the Battle of Gettysburg” – Randolph McKim

        Then came General Ewell’s order to assume the offensive and assail the crest of Culp’s Hill, on our right. My diary says that both General Steuart and General Daniel, who now came up with his brigade to support the movement, strongly disapproved of making the assault. And well might they despair of success in the face of such difficulties. The works to be stormed ran almost at right angles to those we occupied.1 Moreover, there was a double line of entrenchments, one above the other, and each filled with troops. In moving to the attack we were exposed to enfilading fire from the woods on our left flank, besides the double line of fire which we had to face in front, and a battery of artillery posted on a hill to our left rear opened upon us at short range….

On swept the gallant little brigade, the Third North Carolina on the right of the line, next the Second Maryland, then the three Virginia regiments (10th, 23d, and 37th), with the First North Carolina on the extreme left. Its ranks had been sadly thinned, and its energies greatly depleted by those six fearful hours of battle that morning; but its nerve and spirit were undiminished. Soon, however, the left and center were checked and then repulsed, probably by the severe flank fire from the woods; and the small remnant of the Third North Carolina, with the stronger Second Maryland (I do not recall the banners of any other regiment), were far in advance of the rest of the line. On they pressed to within about twenty or thirty paces of the works– a small but gallant band of heroes daring to attempt what could not be done by flesh and blood.

The end soon came. We were beaten back to the line from which we had advanced with terrible loss, and in much confusion, but the enemy did not make a counter charge. By the strenuous efforts of the officers of the line and of the staff, order was restored, and we re-formed in the breastworks from which we had emerged, there to be again exposed to an artillery fire exceeding in violence that of the early morning. It remains only to say that like Pickett’s men later in the day, this single brigade was hurled unsupported against the enemy’s works. Daniel’s brigade remained in the breastworks during and after the charge, and neither from that command nor from any other had we any support. Of course it is to be presumed that General Daniel acted in obedience to orders. We remained in this breastwork after the charge about an hour before we finally abandoned the Federal entrenchments and retired to the foot of the hill.

 

“An Account of an Experience with Discrimination” – Sojourner Truth

 

A few weeks ago I was in company with my friend Josephine S. Griffing, when the conductor of a streetcar refused to stop his car for me, although closely following Josephine and holding on to the iron rail. They dragged me a number of yards before she succeeded in stopping them. She reported the conductor to the president of the City Railway, who dismissed him at once, and told me to take the number of the car whenever I was mistreated by a conductor or driver. On the 13th I had occasion to go for necessities for the patients in the Freedmen’s Hospital where I have been doing and advising for a number of months. I thought now I would get ride without trouble as I was in company with another friend, Laura S. Haviland of Michigan. As I ascended the platform of the car, the conductor pushed me, saying “Go back- get off here.” I told him I was not going off, then ” I’ll put you off” said he furiously, clenching my right arm with both hands, using such violence that he seemed about to succeed, when Mrs. Haviland told him he was not going to put me off. “Does she belong to you?” said he in a hurried angry tone. She replied, “She does not belong to me, but she belongs to humanity.” The number of the car was noted, and conductor dismissed at once upon the report to the president, who advised his arrest for assault and battery as my shoulder was sprained by his effort to put me off. Accordingly I had him arrested and the case tried before Justice Thompson. My shoulder was very lame and swollen, but is better. It is hard for the old slave holding spirit to die. But die it must….

The “Greasy Lake” Discussion Board

“Greasy Lake” Discussion Board

Reflect on the image that the group of young men (the narrator and his friends) have of themselves. How does the image that the men have of themselves conflict with the reality of their lives? Throughout the course of the story how do the young men experience a crisis of identity?  What events trigger this crisis of identity? Are the characters changed for the better or for the worse? What is the lesson learned from these events?

 

Your post should be at least one paragraph of 5-7 sentences.

“Greasy Lake” story below⬇️

https://textsandforms.files.wordpress.com/2014/03/boyle_greasylake-1.pdf

Poem: Hades Welcome His Bride.

Poem: Hades Welcome His Bride.

Write an essay in which you show how and why the speaker experiences a conflict between particular ways of looking or being. Also look at how the speaker’s attitude toward, or thoughts about, something or how our vision of the speaker’s character changes over the course of a poem. Be sure to clearly identify the speaker’s conflict and what changed during the poem.

Your postings will be reviewed according to the following criteria:

  • Be sure that your thesis is explicit and supported with one to two quotations from the literature.
  • Do not write in first or second person.
  • Following the rules of Standard English. Please proofread your writing before clicking the ‘submit’ button!
  • When you include a quotation from the literature in your mini-essay, please place an in-text citation (also called a parenthetical citation) immediately after you close the quotation marks and before you place a period at the end of your sentence. That way, anyone in the class (including me!) can easily find the quotation in the literature if necessary. If you’re not sure what to place inside the parentheses, there is instruction in the textbook in Chapter 34- Quotation, Citation, and Documentation. 
  • When you include in-text citations, there must be a Works Cited listing at the bottom of your post.
  • Be sure to follow the “Quote Sandwich” when you insert quotations.

Reading Comprehension Session 1 a Spanish-speaking neighborhood 2 café con leche — coffee with milk

Reading Comprehension Session 1

1 At twelve I was an avid consumer of comic books—Supergirl being my favorite. I spent my allowance of a quarter a day on two twelve-cent comic books or a double issue for twenty-fi ve. I had a stack of Legion of Super Heroes and Supergirl comic books in my bedroom closet that was as tall as I. I had a recurring dream in those days: that I had long blond hair and could fl y. In my dream I climbed the stairs to the top of our apartment building as myself, but as I went up each fl ight, changes would be taking place. Step by step I would fi ll out: my legs would grow long, my arms harden into steel, and my hair would magically go straight and turn a golden color. . . . Supergirl had to be aerodynamic. Sleek and hard as a supersonic missile. Once on the roof, my parents safely asleep in their beds, I would get on tip-toe, arms outstretched in the position for fl ight and jump out my fi fty-story-high window into the black lake of the sky. From up there, over the rooftops, I could see everything, even beyond the few blocks of our barrio;1 with my X-ray vision I could look inside the homes of people who interested me. Once I saw our landlord, whom I knew my parents feared, sitting in a treasure-room dressed in an ermine coat and a large gold crown. He sat on the fl oor counting his dollar bills. I played a trick on him. Going up to his building’s chimney, I blew a little puff of my super-breath into his fi replace, scattering his stacks of money so that he had to start counting all over again. I could more or less program my Supergirl dreams in those days by focusing on the object of my current obsession. This way I “saw” into the private lives of my neighbors, my teachers, and in the last days of my childish fantasy and the beginning of adolescence, into the secret room of the boys I liked. In the mornings I’d wake up in my tiny bedroom with the incongruous—at least in our tiny apartment—white “princess” furniture my mother had chosen for me, and fi nd myself back in my body: my tight curls still clinging to my head, skinny arms and legs . . . unchanged.

2 In the kitchen my mother and father would be talking softly over a café con leche.2 She would come “wake me” exactly forty-fi ve minutes after they had gotten up. It was their time together at the beginning of each day and even at an early age I could feel their disappointment if I interrupted them by getting up too early. So I would stay in my bed recalling my dreams of fl ight, perhaps planning my next fl ight. In the kitchen they would be discussing events in the barrio. Actually, he would be carrying that part of the conversation; when it was her turn to speak she would, more often than not, try shifting

Volar by Judith Ortiz Cofer

In this essay, Judith Ortiz Cofer recalls how her childhood fantasies and her mother’s dreams intersect. Read the essay “Volar,” which means “to fly” in Spanish, and answer the questions that follow.

1 barrio — a Spanish-speaking neighborhood 2 café con leche — coffee with milk

 

 

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Reading Comprehension Session 1

the topic toward her desire to see her familia on the Island: How about a vacation in Puerto Rico together this year, Querido?3 We could rent a car, go to the beach. We could . . . And he would answer patiently, gently, Mi amor,4 do you know how much it would cost for the all of us to fl y there? It is not possible for me to take the time off . . . Mi vida,5 please understand. . . . And I knew that soon she would rise from the table. Not abruptly. She would light a cigarette and look out the kitchen window. The view was of a dismal alley that was littered with refuse thrown from windows. The space was too narrow for anyone larger than a skinny child to enter safely, so it was never cleaned. My mother would check the time on the clock over her sink, the one with a prayer for patience and grace written in Spanish. A birthday gift. She would see that it was time to wake me. She’d sigh deeply and say the same thing the view from her kitchen window always inspired her to say: Ay, si yo pudiera volar.6

3 Querido — dear 4 Mi amor — my love 5 Mi vida — my life, used as a term of endearment 6 Ay, si yo pudiera volar — Oh, if only I could fl y

“Volar” by Judith Ortiz Cofer, translated by Elena Olazagasti-Segovia, from El año de nuestra revolución. Copyright © 2006 by Arte Público Press—University of Houston. Reprinted by permission of Arte Público Press—University of Houston.