Les Miserables

Victor Hugo's Preface:

So long as there shall exist, by virtue of law and custom, decrees of damnation

pronounced by society, artificially creating hells amid the civilization of earth, and adding the element of human fate to divine destiny; so long as the three great problems of the century---the degradation of man through pauperism, the corruption of woman through hunger, the crippling of children through lack of light—are unsolved; so long as social asphyxia is possible in any part of the world;—in other words, and with a still wider significance, so long as ignorance and poverty exist on earth, books of the nature of Les Misérables cannot fail to be of use. 

Reflection:

My thoughts on Victor Hugo’s preface are that he somehow managed to adequately and efficiently capture the message, meaning, and main theme of Les Miserables into one sentence before he even wrote the book, and I find that fascinating. He defends the poor and unfortunate while making society look bad and fills the reader with sympathy for the lives of the Miserables. But then again, are those people really the Miserables? Or is society?

Examples from Les Miserables:

The problems displayed in Victor Hugo's preface are shown in many places all throughout the course of the book. One example is that Jean Valjean stole a loaf of bread to feed his sister and her seven starving children. He is put in prison and continually tries to escape so that he can return to the family and take care of them- giving him nineteen years. After being released her is no longer himself, but has been overtaken by a monster- emotionless, careless and selfish. Even when he breaks that, the yellow passport still calls him dangerous and society rejects him. 

My Preface:

So long as there shall exist, by way of society’s expectations, discouraged people encountering life’s daily struggles, creating comatose cyborgs, in addition to the means of survival; so long as life’s three greatest problems—stress of every day’s struggles, the need to live up to the media’s standards, and the unattainable pursuit of happiness—cannot be grasped and held under one’s control; so long as humanity continues to plunge deeper into its dissatisfaction; —and with a still wider significance, so long as these people need just one small moment of circumvention, delicious, rich, comforting desserts will not fail to be of use.  

Book Project Option

Create a conversation between a character and a reporter in an interview or between a character and a psychiatrist.

Psychiatrist: Hi Ponyboy. Sit down. How has your week been?

Ponyboy: Well, I went to school, and I did my homework with only a little bit of arguing with Darry, and I ate chocolate cake for breakfast only three days this week because Soda used all the chocolate for his milk. I read Gone with the Wind for the fourth time, and I had a little run-in with the Socs, but nothing big. My teacher passed me with a C, so I still can have a decent chance at college. Darry did only a little bit of yelling about this. I slept in the bed with Soda instead of the empty lot this week, and I didn't have that one dream. And, well, I guess that’s about it.

Psychiatrist: What about smoking?

Ponyboy: Four packs a day, about.

Psychiatrist: Do you know what smoking does to you, Ponyboy?

Ponyboy: Well of course I do, it gets you all messed up on the inside. But I’m already pretty messed up all around, and the only thing it ever does is make everything feel good again, so I think its pretty okay. Darry doesn't like it. Soda doesn't mind. Everybody does it though. It’s kind of like eating or walking, you just do it without a second thought. That’s how it is around us greasers. We've all been smoking since we were young.

Psychiatrist: I recall that you said you were different from them, that you had a chance.

Ponyboy: Well of course I do, I do well in school.

Psychiatrist: There’s more to getting along in life than just doing well in school, Ponyboy.

Ponyboy: I know that, but here’s how I see it: one day I’ll be like Darry, all hard working and stiff and caring a heck of a lot more than necessary about every little thing. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, it just doesn't seem very desirable. So right now while I don’t have any real responsibilities, I want to enjoy my freedom and do what I want. Maybe a couple smokes and some chocolate cake is just the way I say that I still have that freedom.

Psychiatrist: Okay, we’ll talk about that later…tell me about your relationship with Darry.

Ponyboy: Well, ever since I figured out that he really does love me a lot, a kind of gave him a break about yelling at me, because I know he’s just doing it out of care. And he yells a lot less now. I guess maybe he figured out he should be a little less hard on me.  And he still whips up a chocolate cake whenever we've eaten it all, so I can’t be too picky.

Psychiatrist: And what about Soda?

Ponyboy: Oh me and Soda are just swell. I stop by the gas station on the way home from school now, because Darry doesn't ever want me walking alone. I buy a coke and a candy bar and play around with Soda and the girls he picks up until his shift is over, and then we drive home. Darry always has a nice meal cooking when we get there. Me and Soda talk about everything with each other, and I listen to his problems now too, because I know that he has them just like everyone else. And every night before we doze off we open the window and look at the stars for a while, because star gazing is the best way to stay gold. I want to stay gold for Johnnycake.

Psychiatrist: You sound like you’re very happy now, Ponyboy.

Ponyboy: Well I am. I figured there’s no use staying sad about the guys who died because that’s not what they would want. They’d want me to eat chocolate cake and fool around and smoke and act tough and tuff just like we used to. So that’s just what I’ll do.

Psychiatrist: I’m glad you have an optimistic look on life again. I’m afraid your session is over, I’ll see you next week, Ponyboy.

Ponyboy: Okay.

Psychiatrist: Oh, one more thing.

Ponyboy: Yes?

Psychiatrist: Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold. 

Dense Question

Text: How has William discovered his identity and purpose through his experiences, failures, and achievements in his life? 
Other World or Lit: How is William’s discovery of himself different from Equality’s discovery of himself? How are they the same?
Reader: What is an experience in your life that helped to shape your identity? Was it a positive or negative experience, and how did it effect you?

       William’s unfortunate circumstances throughout the book such as the famine and him not being able to go to school helped to shape his identity and purpose because he was forced to discover new things on his own and be inventive. Because of the famine, William could not afford to go to school, so he went to the library where he read the books about electricity which inspired and gave him the knowledge to create the windmill. This then led to the trials of other inventions like alternative heat and radio transmitters. He did these things to help make life easier and more comfortable for his family and the people in his immediate community, and helped him to realize how much he liked to do for others. His identity became his selflessness and his giving heart, and his purpose was to help others.

       William discovered himself through helping other people and that gave him satisfaction and happiness. Equality discovered his identity through the realization that he was a lone human and he could accomplish things on his own that no one else could; his discovery was internal and self-directed. However, the discoveries of oneself were the same because the two characters both had obstacles they had to overcome and inventions that they made that ultimately led to their discoveries of identity.

       My identity has been shaped through a handful of situations throughout the past few years. Some of them being positive experiences, and a little more being negative. It seems that identity is shaped the most when one is faced with obstacles, as was the case with me. I now am more mature, more outgoing, more cautious, less boring, more caring, and I have more common sense. I guess you could say that in order for someone to grow, mature, and discover who they are, they have to experience life first, in all its glory and tragedy. 

Advanced Research Topic

Is Anthem a realistic portrayal of life in a totalitarian society? Compare the fictionalized society in Anthem to a real dictatorship, past or present. Some options are Nazi Germany, Soviet Russia, Cuba, China, Cambodia, etc.

            In Ayn Rand’s Anthem, Equality 7-2521 lives in a corrupt oppressive society where every single aspect of life is controlled by the government—otherwise known as the Council—through a structured, organized, and slowly-progressing, selfless society. Each person is not a person, but a brother to one another, and there is no individual, there is only a body representing a whole. Everything is done selflessly for the good of the brothers to unite and create a perfect utopia.

This is an idea derived directly from real-life circumstances through which the author lived. She was born in 1905 in St. Petersburg, Russia—directly into one of the country’s most tumultuous periods. She endured the overthrow of power, the Bolsheviks, and the Russian Revolution which caused much distress to her family; they were lowered to poverty in order to be equal with all others who were in unfortunate financial circumstances. Finally, when Josef Stalin came into power, she had had enough and escaped the country completely (Life of Ayn Rand, 1).

The life of Ayn Rand and the life of Equality 7-2521 mirror the long stretched and current political situations in North Korea, or the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. North Korea is one of the most secluded countries in the world—only because it wants to be. In 1972, the country, under rule of Kim Il Sung, adopted the idea of Marxism-Leninism—an extreme nationalism committed to the pursuit of economic and cultural self-sufficiency (Credo Reference, 2). To achieve this, most everyone must be relatively equal to one another and must work together in their collective society.

The native North Koreans have grown up to be essentially brainwashed, and their lives are almost parallel to that of Equality and his brothers. They consider their leaders immortal “gods”, and treat them accordingly, calling them “Great Leader” and “Dear Leader” (Credo Reference, 1-2), and never considering disobedience or rebellion. The children are taught songs and anthems to sing in school that reflect a positive outlook on their country. Only very important people are allowed to live in the country’s capitol, and everyone else resides in small, poverty-stricken, rural villages scattered about. A Korean citizen retires at age 60, no matter the physical condition. And the country has a closely monitored closed-system of information exchange; Internet, television, and any other information based media is limited only to what the government feels is appropriate for its citizens to see. These are just some examples, and because North Korea is the most secretive country in the world, there are probably many more things that we do not know (NK Notes, 1).

North Korea is stubborn in the sense that it tries to function on its own and refuses help from other countries; it wants to survive independently as if the rest of the world didn't even exist (Credo Reference, 1-2) . This shows the same kind of society Equality lived in, in which it took care of itself and no one knew anything of what lay outside its confines. These societies are strict, orderly, and introverted and frankly don’t care at all what goes on in the rest of the world so long as it doesn't affect their society. Anthem is a very realistic portrayal of life in a totalitarianism society today. These are undesirable circumstances and hopefully one day they can be eliminated altogether in order to allow for the freedom and individual purpose that every human being was born with the right to have.

Works Cited

"The Life Of Ayn Rand." The Life of Ayn Rand. The Atlas Society, n.d. Web. 13 Nov. 2012.  <http://www.atlassociety.org/life-biography-of-ayn-rand>.

"Topic Page:." North Korea. Credo Reference, n.d. Web. 13 Nov. 2012.  <http://www.credoreference.com/topic/north_korea>.

“North Korea Video Notes.” Civics and Economics. Sept. 2012

Creative Writing Assignment for Anthem

Rewrite the meeting between Equality and Liberty from her perspective.
Anthem, by Ayn Rand—Chapter 2

Every day when we went out to work in the fields, a brother would watch us. We did not know what to think of this, for brothers never looked upon us. This brother kept his eyes upon us as we worked in the field, and we pretended not to notice.

After many days of this, we came close to the hedge where this brother was, and we turned to them. They were striking. Taller and stronger than any other brother, with eyes like fire but also like ice, we stood aghast amongst their beauty and did not move. But we stared too long, and were embarrassed, so we turned and walked away from them.

The following day we met this brother again, and today we smiled. They smiled back at us. We were overwhelmed with joy, and we threw our body back toward the sky who had always been our friend. We turned once more over our shoulder and gazed upon them. They were different.

Every morning thereafter, we met this way but did not speak but with our eyes. What would come of us if we had? Execution certainly. But oh, we wanted to hear their voice just once. If even anyone had seen us as we raised our hand to our forehead and moved it in accordance with them, they would not have thought a thing of it. But can one survive off of gestures of the hand? This mysterious brother we know nothing of, yet we know them more than any other human being, and we feel something towards them that we feel towards no other. We do not know though what this feeling is. Women should not think of men, nor men of women, yet we find ourselves always thinking of this brother and their beauty. They are not like the others.

This day was monumental. We were kneeling along a moat that runs through the field and all the other women were far off. We saw them there by the hedge and rose and came toward them. As we were entranced by them, we were startled—but still—as they said to us, “You are beautiful, Liberty 5-3000.”

They knew our name, and they thought us beautiful! But what could we say? We had never spoken toward man, certainly not a man like this man, and we were afraid. “What is your name?” Oh, how stupid of us! What a thing to ask. They had just told us we were beautiful, and all we ask is a name.

“Equality 7-2521,” they answered.

“You are not one of our brothers, Equality 7-2521, for we do not wish you to be.” What were these words we had just uttered to this being? Not even do we understand what we meant by them.

“No, nor are you one of our sisters.” Yet they understood what we meant.

“If you see us among women, will you look upon us?”

“We shall look upon you, Liberty 5-3000, if we see you among all the women of the earth.”

“Are the Street Sweepers sent to different parts of the City or do they always work in the same places?” We were curious to know if they would look upon us every day thereafter.

“They always work in the same places, and no one will take this road away from us.” Joy filled our soul.

“Your eyes,” we said, “are not like the eyes of any among men.”

They replied, “How old are you?”

And we felt ashamed. “Seventeen,” we whispered. We smiled sadly, for we knew what they thought, and then we retreated.

            That night we lie in our clean white room with one hundred beds and we ponder at the ceiling of the whereabouts of this brother, who in our thoughts is the Unconquered, for we know that nothing can conquer them. We wish only to speak to them again—and again, and again, and again. 

Anthem Post

Why is love forbidden in this society? What do you think caused the leaders to reprimand love?

The goal of this society is only one simple thing: do everything for the good of others and of the whole. Everything must be aimed away from the individual. No one should do anything for themselves; that would be selfish, and would only help that one person. This society believes that if anything should ever work properly and orderly and in harmony, it must be done wholeheartedly for their brothers. If one’s heart is longing for another more than for their brothers, all of their work will be aimed toward that love, and not the society. 

It is not proper in this society to love any one person more than another. There are no best friends or acquaintances or the hated, there are just brothers. Love opens a door from soul to soul, a relationship that is stronger than any other, and that one person becomes the only important thing. Love is a feeling curled up inside oneself, that is both selfish and selfless—but only for the other soul that it belongs to. 

Love believes in freedom, in spreading its wings and flying away from anything that ever contradicted it. Those feelings can stir up new feelings which can lead to the introduction of the thought of rebellion against the orderly robotic society. Love is natural and intangible and flexible and free. Love is the opposite of society; they are enemies. Love is all about the individual. This is why love was reprimanded; society was scared of it. 

Literary Writing Prompts: Les Misérables

Writers often highlight the values of a culture/society by using characters who are alienated from that culture/society due to gender/race/class/creed. Choose a play or novel in which such a character plays a significant role and show how that character’s alienation reveals the surrounding society’s assumptions/moral values.

In the book Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, Jean Valjean, an ex-convict, was just trying to get through his unfortunate life. Nineteen years he was in prison, for one measly little act of unselfish desperation; Valjean attempted to steal a loaf of bread from a bakery to feed his sister and her seven starving children. Finally, he was set free, but his past was like a cloud always hanging over him. Valjean’s yellow passport was the only way people knew who he was, but that passport was always inquired wherever he went. Society recoiled from him, and he felt eternally dejected.

This alienation was what shaped Jean Valjean throughout his life. He always had to pretend he was someone else for people to actually accept him. When seen as a convict, Valjean was thrown out of taverns and rejected from restaurants. He was a homeless, helpless wanderer detested by society. But by change of name and establishment of himself, he became a very loved and successful man, the most generous and kind-hearted anyone knew.

This act shows one simple thing: the judgemental, subjective mind of society. Referring to society in a whole, as one single body, it jumps to conclusions about the way things look or appear to be. Naturally, one would retract from a ragged old convict and be drawn toward this wealthy, charitable man. But they are the same person; it’s all in the way things appear to be. Don’t judge a book by its cover? Don’t judge a man by his dress.

Choose a complex/important character in a novel/play of recognized literary merit who might be considered evil or immoral. Explain both how and why the full presentation of the character in the work makes us react more sympathetically than we otherwise might.

Jean Valjean, in Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables, as first perceived seemed to be the bad guy: he stole bread from a baker, he stole silver from a bishop, he stole money from a child. But as Valjean evolved and grew and developed as a character, he only wanted to run from that life. It was his past, he longed for his future – a new future, to escape from his darkness. He flourished into an implausibly generous and forgiving man, beyond the extent of the average man. Nevertheless he could never fully escape his murky past.

Javert, the police inspector, caused the most trouble for Jean Valjean. From the very beginning in the galleys at Toulon, Javert had been a guard, and upon Valjean’s numerous efforts of escape, Javert had grown to loathe him. Upon discharge of the galleys, with still a cloudy mind, Valjean inconsequently fell back into his old ways. Evidently, Javert was right on top of this. As Valjean’s life progressed, Inspector Javert seemed to be part of the police force in every town Jean Valjean hid in; he continued to hunt Valjean down, even after becoming a clean new man. Disguised name or not, Javert knew his face anywhere, and the endless game of hide and seek kept Valjean on his toes.

As the reader, we begin to sympathize for poor Jean Valjean. Everywhere he went, he started a new life for himself, and everywhere he went, his past tracked him down. Jean Valjean redeemed himself time and time again: he rescued an old man from underneath a fallen carriage, he took in and raised poor frozen Cosette – an orphan servant of but eight years old – and he saved the life of Marius Pontmercy – Cosette’s subsequent lover –who Valjean looked upon only with hatred. We, the readers, love Jean Valjean, for he is a good man with only a regrettable past.

This I Believe Essay

I believe that music can change the way one feels in an instant.
               

Music. Music. It is such a powerful word, yet so underappreciated  It isn't one of those words that when you look at it, you think, “Wow, what a great word. What a beautiful, harmonious word.” I think that that is because there are so many genres of music in so many different styles; no one is going to like all music. And practically everyone listens to, or has some affiliation, with music, and if you are like me and have reservations about a lot of people, well, that can put a damper on the word as well. By this I mean only that I have annoying memories of annoying people when I look at the word. But let’s get past that word, music. Let’s go inside of it.
                There is this feeling that I get, it is such a charismatic, eerie, marvelous feeling, when certain music comes on. I cannot pinpoint what music exactly it is, because it is never just one kind. But many times, if the situation is just right, and the music is just spellbinding enough, I feel like I am in a movie. That also can get a negative vibe, “I feel like I’m in a movie.” Let’s change that word. I feel like I am part of some independent film that never made its way into theatres because it wasn't supported by some big-name company, but it should have been because it was so much better than Twilight. For example, I was on the beach at night in a sweater, the same night I was star-gazing. My friends and I were walking through the sand as the cool wind whipped through our hair and the portable radio was playing some song, which I have yet to forget, but it was such a great song, and we just walked and listened and felt. I felt magical. It didn't feel real. Hence the movie vibe. I felt like I was in that reoccurring scene of Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind when the couple are on the beach in the snow. I didn't ever want that moment to be over; I just wanted to keep walking, keep listening, keep feeling. Forever.
                This unreal feeling has happened to me on multiple occasions, and hopefully it happens to other people too. Partly because if not then you have no idea what I am talking about, and partly because I wish other people could experience this too. That is, without the help of some narcotic. I must assure you that there was no use of drugs on my part, because every ignorant person thinks that they need drugs to be able to have a moment like this. You really don’t, just something that you love emphatically.
                Music can do wonders, and it can change the mood or feeling of anything. Maybe your dog just ran away, and then “Who Let the Dogs Out?” comes on. It’s a stupid song, but because of your current situation, it probably makes you upset. But say your day just sucks, and your road rage is on a dangerous level. So you jab that radio button with all the pressure in your angry little thumb, and something incredibly beautiful floods your car, and suddenly, you slow down fifteen miles and lighten your grip on the wheel. You feel better instantly. Music.

Book Project: Insert Identity Here

•     Jean Valjean poses as Monsieur Madeleine, the mayor of M—sur m— and becomes very rich and successful.
•     Jean Valjean poses as Ultimate Fauchelevent, the brother on Father Fauvent (Fauchelevent), working as a gardener in the Convent of Petit Picpus.
•     Jean Valjean, still Monsieur Fauchelevent, but also nicknamed Monsieur Leblanc, pretends to be the low-lying old father of the beautiful young Cosette. 

Essentially, as it is seen, Jean Valjean is always on the run from the police (Inspector Javert) and can never reveal his identity as Jean Valjean and must therefore always be someone else. This picture relates to that because the man here has no face, only "Insert Identity Here"; he can be whoever he feels like being whenever he feels like it. 

Original work by Sophie Haulman, 2012

Quotes

Every man is guilty of all the good he didn't do. – Voltaire
I feel like this quote is saying that of all of the opportunities we get in our lives to do good, how many do we actually take? There is at least one opportunity to do something good for someone every single day, and most of the time we don’t take that opportunity, because we—the human race—are selfish. This, therefore, makes us guilty. 
I chose this quote because I am guilty of this. I try to be a nice person, as most people do, and do good on a regular basis. But no one takes every opportunity to be altruistic, and neither do I. This is a philosophy that should be taken by everyone, but obviously isn’t.


Our life is frittered away by detail….Simplify, simplify.  –Henry David Thoreau
This quote means that everyone’s life is always so busy and so full and so detailed, and that isn’t good. Life can be lived simply and happily without all of the clutter and chaos in it; it can really be lived better, more smoothly. Simple.
I chose this quote because my life is full of chaos and details and is very overwhelming. Living life simple sounds great, and I wish that I could. But because no one actually lives their lives simply, it effects everyone else, like me, which causes me to not be able to lead a simple life either—domino effect.

 
Don’t tell me worrying doesn’t do any good.  Half the things I worry about never even happen. –Twain

Favorite Video: Strange Light

Strange Light: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8bwTfjo0EG4

This is the promotion video for a performance called “Strange Light”. It features the collaboration of dance, music, and original poetry written and recited by Derrick Brown. “Strange Light” is a performance about living through life as it is from childhood fears to adult regrets that can hold one back from embracing that life.
            I chose this video for its pure art. Derrick Brown is an ingenious poet who lives for and through his work, and I admire him. As for the accompaniment of dancers, as I am one, I just thoroughly appreciated it. I also agree with his outlook on life in this piece, that in order to embrace it, you must get past its’ many hindrances.  

Persuasive Essay: Human Trafficking

To the Unaware, Misinformed Party,

Human trafficking: the act of ownership over another person for the use of forced physical labor and/or sexual exploitation. Up to 27 million innocent men, women, and children are trafficked around the world every year (Lea). Most of these victims never experience freedom again.

            Human trafficking looks casual to observers and even to police, but it is dark and wicked underneath (Lea). Almost no one does anything about it. People choose the path “Ignorance is bliss.” And remain naïve to the ugly truth. They don’t want to know about it or look it in the face, because the truth is, simply stated, disturbing. But say someone does decide to step up and reach out. This is such a large, widespread issue, how can one person make a difference? It’s quite simple really: one person, then another, and another. It’s like voting – it all adds up and makes a point.

            Human trafficking is a low-risk, high-profit business, and the slave markets are rising. Victims are sucked in in many ways: job offers, kidnapping, deception, or immigration across borders (Lea). Anyone can be a victim, no matter your circumstances. Last summer during an awareness event in downtown Wilmington, a woman drove by in her car and we heard her say to her daughter, “Look, that’s what happened to your cousin.”

            Many people sucked into human trafficking, usually girls and young women, are deceived and brainwashed. They are beaten or raped by their pimp/owner and then rewarded with something they love or by being comforted and told they are loved. I heard a story about a girl who was brainwashed this way for a bag of cheese puffs. This confusion is part of the psychological torture the victims endure. But it is the only act of love and care they are shown, so the girls grasp on to it and don’t want to let it go. They begin to fall in love with their wrong-doers despite the physical torture those men put them through. This is a large excuse as to why most victims of human trafficking never escape – they forget that they want to. However, the larger portion is killed brutally.

            All of this happens right under our noses. Prostitutes, for example, can be arrested and convicted of crime, when in fact large quantities of them are doing so for the profit of their owner. In many countries, men have the hunger for women that they can be violent to (Lea). Prostitution provides that, and the victims are again physically, mentally, and psychologically tortured.

            So why then are people entirely avoiding this issue? The human race is selfish and cowardly, it’s part of our natural state. This topic is heavy, and it takes a brave soul to stand up and say, “This is not okay.” And you can be that person, if you are willing. Even here in Wilmington there are safe houses for rescued victims that you can donate to, there are movies and documentaries being made, even I am part of something. Staff from my dance studio put together “The Story Collective”, a performance about human trafficking in which all of our proceeds go to support an organization called Love 146. You too can do something to help eliminate human trafficking. The real question is – will you?

 Works Cited

Lea, Allie. "Human Trafficking: I Am Not for Sale." Teen Ink. Emerson Media, n.d. Web. 20    Sept. 2012. <http://www.teenink.com/hot_topics/all/article/434742/Human-Trafficking-I-Am-Not-For-Sale/>.

Salisbury, Kaylie D. "Human Trafficking." Teen Ink. Emerson Media, n.d. Web. Sept. 2012. <http://teenink.com/opinion/current_events_politics/article/471711/Human-Trafficking/>.

"All Quiet on the Western Front" Essay Test

Paul says at the end, “I am so alone and so without hope…” (295). Show the major events that caused Paul to view himself this way. Why did he feel this way? ...

            For several years, Paul Baumer has evolved with the war: a fresh, exhilarating start full of hope and enthusiasm that slowly dwindled down to a single spark of light, and eventually, that went out too. Paul begins his journey, “[I am] satisfied and at peace,” (1) but this is a war, and that will not last. The way Paul evolves is simultaneous and parallel to the evolution of the war: enthusiasm and hope to trials and struggles to loss of hope to destruction and surrender.

            From the very beginning, Paul’s close friend Franz Kemmerich experiences the consequences of war face to face and so begins the long line of loss Paul will experience. This initiates the hardening of his heart, to build up his stone cold emotionless wall. Paul experiences a new feeling of grief. He writes, “My feet begin to move forward in my boots, I go quicker, I run…I give him the boots. We go in and he tries them on. They fit well. He roots among his supplies and offers me a fine piece of saveloy. With it goes hot tea and rum.” (33) Away with Paul’s emotions, away with his feelings, or coping with the war will be impossible.

            Battle after battle, front after front, trenches, rats, starvation, blood. Day after day the soldiers’ youth is grinded out of them. They are “forlorn like children, and experienced like old men, we are crude and sorrowful and superficial – I believe we are lost.” (123) And with that are lost the human-like characteristics of passion and feeling; Paul becomes much like a puppet of war.

            One may not think this is such a bad thing. Paul is strong inside and out, he can cope better, survive longer. That is true. But comes the day his sister calls, “Mother, mother, Paul is here,” (157) the wall crumbles like stale bread. The feelings return in tsunamis and Paul cannot even support himself. His mother is sick – one more loss. But a soldier can not dwell on such things if he wants to survive. It will destroy him.

            Paul returns to war. Paul loses more friends, and with them, hope. All he has left is Kat – his single dwindling light. Nonetheless, “…it has sufficed. Kat is dead. Slowly I get up.” (291) And Paul has nothing left. “Let the months and years come, they can take nothing from me, they can take nothing more.” (295) Paul goes on with no hope, no love, no strength, no will. The war has engulfed and swallowed him; he drowns in the pit of its belly. So finally, Paul too falls, and is glad the end has come.

This I Believe

Favorite "This I Believe" Essays:

http://thisibelieve.org/essay/68748/
http://thisibelieve.org/essay/16462/

Favorite Videos:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Av2jgY8c85E
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rFkFncqovL0&feature=related

Poem:

I believe that being cold is a very undesirable feeling;
warmth is the only thing I ever want to feel.
I believe in lying on a blanket under the stars in a sweater at night.
I believe that on certain cool mornings when the air is crisp,
it smells like snow.
I believe that certain situations accompanied by certain music can make one feel like they’re in a movie.
I believe in being entirely organized with everything I do because without organization
nothing would function properly.
I believe that whether or not you try to be, everyone is judgmental;
 judging is in the human nature.
I believe that whenever I am having a bad day
I can hide inside of a sweater and it makes the day at least 5% better.
I believe that being left-handed is better than being right-handed;
the rest of the world doesn't appreciate us.
I believe in adorning my hair with braids or dreads or colors
to make it not so boring.
I believe that the structures of bones are very
beautiful. 

Comparison/Contrast Essay: A Teacher or a Teacher

           Teachers: there are two types. The type that tell me what I need to know to get a grade that says, “You’re smart,” and the type that make me figure out what I need to know. Curriculums and play by play directions are always available to a teacher. Some of them scrape by giving the bare minimum of what is required, but others really want me to learn.

            Miss Lucas wants me to learn. She gets so excited about teaching that she doesn’t realize how much work she gives me; she loves to do work. Miss Lucas goes beyond what is required by the state and the curriculums; she pours herself into her job and she cares. She really grasps the need for understanding. But is it too much work? Miss Lucas gets carried away, so I let her know how overwhelmed I am, and she is very understanding. And of course all teachers say, “You need to understand this! Don’t you get what I am teaching you?” No, Miss Lucas says, “It’s okay to not understand, I want you to not understand. Let’s figure this out together.”

            Many teachers, after having spent year after year with disrespectful blockheads, are just fed up. They get bored and frustrated and stressed by their own workload, and they slack. They teach what the curriculum says to teach, step by step, in perfect formal order. They say, “Here’s what you have to do, here’s how to do it, this is when it’s due, now go.” But what if I don’t get it? Do they understand that I have a life? Other homework? Family matters? No, those teachers don’t care. It’s probably because many of them don’t have lives themselves.

            Miss Lucas is an individual teacher, one which is usually harder to find in a large public school where cares are thrown high into the air. Yet I have found my way into that left handed desk. In that desk I read and learn and dig and understand and don’t understand and then understand again and I fill myself up with the words on a page because Miss Lucas gives those words meaning. Now of course I’ve had, have, and will have teachers who basically just suck. The things they teach are boring and the kids in the class don’t care and so day after day I just read textbooks and do worksheets, which the teacher never makes up herself, and listen to her yell because none of us care. Miss Lucas has never done that a day in my life. I doubt that she ever will. The students in her class respect her because she gives life to the things that she teaches; it isn’t boring, generic.

            But as I sit here and I type this essay my mind is whirling with all I have to get done. Papers to write, books to read, extra credit to complete, grammar to learn, more, more, more to brand into my brain and retain. High school is a tiresome repetition of the same thing day after day and it will continue this way for two and a half more years and there’s nothing I can do about that. So I’m going to go read Les Miserables now, because Miss Lucas says it’s good.   

Who Am I?

"For whatever we've lost (like a you or a me) it's always ourselves we find in the sea."
I love the way that I feel neck deep in the ocean on those calm, warm days when the crashing waves have ceased. I can float there and feel nothing and everything all at the same time. It's ethereal really...that's why those days are so hard to find.

My best friends

I laid on the beach in this cheap Goodwill sweater at night. It was cold but that was the least of my thoughts. My two best friends and I, we laid there under the clear sky with a portable radio playing the most perfect music it could have played, and in silence we watched the sky. I realized at that moment that I never wanted to leave; I wanted to stay right there on that blanket for the rest of my life. Obviously, I couldn't do that. But I feel like I found myself.

Those are the things that I love: beautiful, memorable moments. And concerts and music and cats. All of those things combined perhaps. I really adore music - like I need to hear it all the time. I listen - LISTEN - to the music, so I know that it's real. Concerts are an opportunity to be inside that music, become one with the sounds and their maker. I find concerts...powerful. 

I guess that everything I like ties in with each other in some way. I love music. I dance to music. Dance is an art form. I am an artist. Artists usually think more, dip deeper, to find the meaning in things. I like that. I like to experience and feel and understand. 

People sometimes (or usually) people think I'm boring and quiet. I'm really just thinking a lot. I listen and absorb and retain what goes on around me. I'm an observer. And I never know what expression my face is making.

Gabi's cat

I really want a cat but my brother is allergic so instead I have a dog that thinks she is a human. For my cat-lack, I have Gabi's cat. I am her god mother and she loves me (I think). Also sweaters are really nice, it's like walking around inside of a blanket all the time. 

At this point in my essay, I'm going to assume you think I'm a hipster. Cats, sweaters, star gazing, concerts, let's all drink tea and forget the world irrationality. Unfortunately, I meet just about every quota for that. And then I say, "Don't call me a hipster. I'm not a hipster!" which I guess is what all hipsters say? So whatever, call me a hipster if you want to. But that really just disgusts me. I don't know what I am. I just like what I like and do what I do because that's what I want to like and do. 

I was once referred to as being kind of like Emily Dickinson - she knew and understood so much that she had never really experienced herself. I guess that's hypocritical in a sense though. I really haven't experienced all that much in my life, but I take from others' experiences and I try to understand them. I like to know things. 
^ No that doesn't mean I live for learning and school and all that. I mean things about life that you really don't know unless you personally experienced them. But I try to understand them nonetheless.

Alice Glass

My brother has ADD or ADHD or something and he is fairly difficult to manage. My human-dog doesn't know how to bark properly. I had a clown fish for five years which is ancient for a fish I think. My parents are divorced, but aren't every one's  nowadays? My thumbs are double jointed. I can't snap or whistle. I have an obsession with clothing and shoes. I like to lay in the shower. I like to lay on the floor. I love Alice Glass. My dad owns a restaurant. I've never been out of the country. I like glitter. I basically only drink water. My favorite color is yellow. I don't know how to scream. Christmas makes me happy.