"...I am half inclined to think we are all ghosts...It is not only what we have inherited , from our fathers and mothers that exists again in us, but all sorts of old dead ideas and all kinds of old dead beliefs and things of that kind. They are not acutally alive in us; but there they are dormant, all the same, and we can never be rid of them." - Mrs. Alving in Ibsen's play Ghosts
AP Students!! You made it through the first semester! Thank you for working so hard on your Museum of Literature presentations. They were awesome. Please remember to read Toni Morrison's novel Beloved at some point during Christmas break. You will have a test when you return. Merry Christmas!! - Mrs. Elmeer
HYPNOPAEDIA: Hypnopædia is used throughout the novel to condition children into certain societal standards, predetermined for their apparent benefit. By November 21st, you will need to use movie maker, photo story, or animoto to compose your piece of hypnopaedia. It need only be one statement. It need not be more than a minute, but you must post it on your blog and write a paragraph explaining its powerful suggestion. If you would rather simply use a crude collage method of glue, scissors, paper, crayons, marker etc. That is fine. Just photograph your collage with a digital camera and make sure you post it to your blog. Please have this posted to your blog by November 21st, 2008. Please do your best to make sure yours is original. Here are a few from the novel to get your gears turning.
"Everyone belongs to everyone else." "A gram is better than a damn." "When the individual feels, the community reels." "Particulars make for virtue and happiness; generalities are intellectually necessary evils. Not philosophers but fretsawyers and stamp collectors compose the backbone of society." "Never put off till tomorrow the fun you can have today." "We always throw away old clothes. Ending is better than mending." "The more stitches, the less riches." "History is bunk."
Or simply consider the words on the Central London Hatchery and Conditioning Centre -the World State's Motto:
A DRAMATIC MONOLOGUE, also known as a personal poem, shares many characteristics with a theatrical monolgue: an audience is implied; there is no dialogue; and the poet speaks through an assumed voice - a character, a ficitional identity, or a persona. Because a dramatic monologue is by definition one person's speech, it is offered without overt analysis or commentary, placing emphasis on subjective qualities that are left to the audience to interpret.
You may want to preview the two examples of a dramatic monolgue before you begin. "My Last Duchess" by Robert Browning and "Lady Lazarus" by Sylvia Plath are two great examples of the poet taking on a voice of a character. You will be taking on the voice of one of the characters from All The King's Men or Brave NewWorld. The poem should be approximately as long as the two examples I have provided you with. It should be thought provoking, and it should openly reflect upon aspects of the speaker's personality. Consider what motivates the character you have chosen. What does that character sound like? What types of words would that particular character use? What images pass through his or her brain? What symbols or symbolic images do we want to associate with this particular character? If there is something he or she says all of the time in the novel, borrow his or her words for the poem. How does this character evolve or devolve?
In addition to posting your monologue, post a portrait image with you monologue that shows me what your character looks like. I will post two pics for you below as well -one for My Last Duchess and one for Sylvia Plath who wrote Lady Lazarus. What do you think your speaker looks like? Put a picture of your speaker at the top of your poem. Have fun, and let me know if you have any questions. Thanks. Mrs. Elmeer
"My Last Duchess" written in 1842 by Robert Browning
That's my last Duchess painted on the wall, Looking as if she were alive. I call That piece a wonder, now: Fra Pandolf's hands Worked busily a day, and there she stands. Will't please you sit and look at her? I said "Fra Pandolf" by design, for never read Strangers like you that pictured countenance, The depth and passion of its earnest glance, But to myself they turned (since none puts by the curtain I have drawn for you, but I) And seemed they would ask me, if they durst, How such a glance came there; so not the first Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, 'twas not Her husband's presence only, called that spot Of joy into the Duchess's cheek: perhaps Fra Pandolf chanced to say "Her mantle laps Over my lady's wrist too much," or Paint Must never hope to reproduce the faint Half flush that dies along her throat": such stuff Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough For calling up that spot of you. She had A heart--how shall I say?--too soon made glad, Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er She looked on, and her looks went everywhere. Sir, 'twas all one! My favor at her breast, The dropping of the daylight in the West, The bough of cherries some officious fool Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule She rode with round the terrace--all and each Would draw from her alike the approving speech, Or blush, at least. She thanked men--good! but thanked Somehow--I know not how--as if she ranked My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name With anybody's gift. Who'd stoop to blame This sort of trifling? Even had you skill In speech--(which I have not)--to make your will Quite clear to such a one, and say, "Just this Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss Or there exceed the mark"--and if she let Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse --E'en then would be some stooping; and I choose Never to stoop. Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt Whene'er I passed her; but who passed without Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands; Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands As if alive. Will't please you rise? We'll meet the company below, then. I repeat The Count your master's known munificence Is ample warrant that no just pretense Of mine dowry will be disallowed Though his fair daughter's self, as I avowed At starting, is my object. Nay, we'll go Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though, Taming a sea horse, thought a rarity, Which claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!
Lady Lazarus - Sylvia Plath
I have done it again. One year in every ten I manage it----
A sort of walking miracle, my skin Bright as a Nazi lampshade, My right foot
A paperweight, My face a featureless, fine Jew linen.
Peel off the napkin 0 my enemy. Do I terrify?----
The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth? The sour breath Will vanish in a day.
Soon, soon the flesh The grave cave ate will be At home on me
And I a smiling woman. I am only thirty. And like the cat I have nine times to die.
This is Number Three. What a trash To annihilate each decade.
What a million filaments. The peanut-crunching crowd Shoves in to see
Them unwrap me hand and foot The big strip tease. Gentlemen, ladies
These are my hands My knees. I may be skin and bone,
Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman. The first time it happened I was ten. It was an accident.
The second time I meant To last it out and not come back at all. I rocked shut
As a seashell. They had to call and call And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
Dying Is an art, like everything else, I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I've a call.
It's easy enough to do it in a cell. It's easy enough to do it and stay put. It's the theatrical
Comeback in broad day To the same place, the same face, the same brute Amused shout:
'A miracle!' That knocks me out. There is a charge
For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge For the hearing of my heart---- It really goes.
And there is a charge, a very large charge For a word or a touch Or a bit of blood
Or a piece of my hair or my clothes. So, so, Herr Doktor. So, Herr Enemy.
I am your opus, I am your valuable, The pure gold baby
That melts to a shriek. I turn and burn. Do not think I underestimate your great concern.
Ash, ash --- You poke and stir. Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----
A cake of soap, A wedding ring, A gold filling.
Herr God, Herr Lucifer Beware Beware.
Out of the ash I rise with my red hair And I eat men like air.
You have just landed a new job as a music reporter for Rolling Stone magazine. You have been asked to write a cover story on the most important band or musical artist of the year or of the times. You pick. The editor has left that up to you. What the editor has not left up to you is this:
You need to post a You Tube clip or a recording to your blog so that we can hear the song you will explicate in your review. You must post your final review to your blog.
You must do research on the artist or band you select. Surf the internet or go to the public library to see what you can find. You may try the NPR website or other musical websites like Rolling Stone, Magnet, or Vibe magazine.
You must consider who influenced your band or artist. Do they sound reminiscent of anyone you have heard before, or do they sound like a collection of folks you have heard before?
You must consider your artist or a band as a potential influence for other artists. Whom have they inspired?
What genre of music might one classify your band under? Does your selected band or artist defy classification or embrace it? Does he or she, do they, crossover into more than one genre? Is there a reason for this. Whate elements of the genre are typical in this particular artist's work?
In general, what are some of the overall messages your band wants to put out there to the public? You will need evidence for this. Some of the evidence will come from the close explication of one of the band's songs which you will thread through this piece. You may also find info in any interviews you can track down during the research portion of this piece. Some song writers are totally fixated on ignoring messages all together. Is your band or artist like this? Bob Dylan claims that he certainly is..or was....
Finally, regardless of what the lyrics say and the message the band says it wants to communicate, what do you think is ultimately communicated to the public via the artist's work? Oftentimes many people get known for one thing when they desperately want to be known for another. Is any of this happening with this particular artist or band?
Postivie or Negative or thoughtful contribution? Many artists believe that messages and morality are the sole purpose of art. Others believe art is made to question standards and assumed morality. Is your artist dangerous? Is your artist the happy bandaid rainbow the world desperately needs as a cure? Explain.
This paper should be written in first person with a voice. Avoid passive voice. Vary your syntax and sentence beginnings in general. Bowlderize your lyrics if necessary with &*%$#! if need be, for I want us to publish these things right here please. E-mail me with any questions, or ask questions in class. I want us to get this right this time.
P.S. This post is going to be edited as I read over it and find things that may be more clearer stated. So if you see problems or have concerns, please let me know. Thanks! Ms. Elmeer
P.S. I'm leaving you with some musical information. Please post your musical essay to your blog no later than November November 24th, 2008.
Remember - If you begin a sentence using "one", do not switch half way through and begin using a different pronoun all of the sudden. For example - Let's look at this sentence: One should consider what he wants to be prior to buying their Halloween costume.
Their is plural - more than one - so you can not use "their" yet many students try it, and let's take "he" out of there while we are editing. If you start with one, stick with one. One should consider what one wants to be prior to buying a Halloween costume.
Pluck 25 of yer favorite phrases from between the pages of All the Kings Men to recreate a lovely piece of poetry. Your work should be at least 10 lines long. Add, subtract from, or rearrange the old words and lines to make a new work.
1- Remember the old show me - don't tell me rule. Do not say - "My life was changed forever on that day." Instead, engage your reader in a narrative where he/she witnesses your life changing or the way you see things - evolving.
2- You can and should write your college essays in first person, but you do not want to turn into an egomaniac. Avoid having all of your sentences begin with "I". You want to vary the order and length of your sentences in general. Do not begin every sentence with an article, subject, verb combination. Let the verb or adverb come first sometimes.
3- A resume does not an essay make. An essay is a cohesive piece that is organized to communicate an idea of yours. The admissions folks already have a copy of your resume. Do not simply talk about everything you've accomplished in your life since first grade and call it an essay.
4- Do not pick a gut-wrenching topic that you are not emotionally prepared to write about. If you have not completely come to terms with a particular issue in your life, it is going to resonate as emotional instability. We are all a little crazy and we all have burdens, but you do not need to share this with the admissions staff. Save that information for your confessional poetry and turn it into the literary magazine.
5- Be creative. Believe it or not, you can write a story (with you as the narrator) that has you experiencing all types of wonderful and fulfilling things - this story can be made up of events from your future - or it can depict how you would have liked to have spent the last three years of your life. While it's true that fact is often stranger than fiction, fiction may help you communicate your ideas more clearly.
6- Funny things engage readers too. Do not lose your sense of humor or yourself. If you write your essay with a thesaurus under your right hand, you may sound like a pretentious jerk or someone who wrote his essay with a thesaurus under his right hand.
7- Write with a personality and a voice. Allow the readers to see who you are. Some of this will be communicated via the details you select and the words you choose and the observations you make. Remember - you want them to know that out of 400,000 university applicants, you are unique.
8- BE HONEST. Do not try to be someone you are not.
9- If you are bored writing the piece, your reader will be bored reading it. Engage engage engage your reader - charm them - make them laugh. Tell them a story.
10- Just do it. The longer you wait, the bigger the burden becomes. Your essays have due dates depending on what college you are applying to, so find out what those dates are and pace yourself accordingly. Chain yourself to your desk for at least one hour at a time. It is okay to focus. Read what your friends have written, too. They will give you ideas.
11- Have several readers read your essay, including an english teacher or two. Spell check does not catch everything. Do not just have your mom and dad who love you read your essay, but ask someone who may actually have a more objective and unbiased opinion. Ask each reader if he got the point you were trying to make. Ask readers if they want to hear more or less of anything.
GENERAL RULES: Write in the active voice as opposed to the passive. Avoid excess prepositional phrases and instances of which and that. Remove forms of "be" and use action verbs. Avoid using too many flowery adjectives.
DUE: YOUR RESPONSE TO THIS ASSIGNMENT NEEDS TO BE POSTED TO YOUR OWN BLOGGER BLOG NO LATER THAN MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 22nd. IF YOU HAVE NOT CREATED YOUR BLOG YET, PLEASE DO SO. I WILL PUT A LINK TO EACH OF YOUR BLOGS ON THIS PAGE.
Choose one of the following topics to write about. You will need to compose a two page, typed paper using one piece of formal literary criticism for this piece. You should double space the paper and make the font no larger than 12 pt. Use a standard font. Make sure you use proper MLA formatting. Choose a topic from the following list:
1. Historical Reading: How does O'Neill's play reflect his experience or beliefs?
2. Biographical Reading: How does the text reflect the author's experience or beliefs?
3. What effect does the setting have on the characters? The plot? The theme?
4. Identify a conflict within the play that reveals a thematic idea within Long Days Journey Into Night? Person - vs - Person, Son - vs - Parent, Person - vs - society, Person - vs - Self, and Person - vs - Fate.
5. What role does allusion have withing this text? What idea does O'Neill' help us to see through his use of allusion? You may want to focus particularly on quotes from Rosetti or Baudelaire or Shakespeare.
6. Are there important elements of the setting, symbolic elements, that illustrate a thematic idea within the play? (fog, watered down whiskey, temporary summer home, bad help, lights off, etc.)
7. What internal conflicts challenge one of the main characters? Consider the thoughts, feelings, and ideas that affect him or her.
8. What external conflicts affect one of the main characters?
For this assignment, you will compare and contrast two works - a poem and a song. I will ask you to post a copy of your song (video if you have it) and your poem in addition to the piece you create, comparing the the two works. I want you to focus on theme, diction, sound, imagery, denotation, connotation, tone shifts, and any other details that are important in relation to the works you chose. Remember each work has its own set of bells and whistles. Some details are more important in one work than they are in another. The two works you pick should be linked in terms of the theme or subject. For example, if I wanted to compare and contrast Poe's famous poem "The Raven" with the song "Haunted" by the contemporary artist Poe, this may work because the subject in both poems relates to how the speaker is "HAUNTED." I will post an old video here of Vincent Price reading Poe's poem "The Raven" in addition to a video created for Poe's "Haunted" song. I will also post the text for both the poem and the song, and I will write a paragraph that critiques the use of diction in both. Please note, though I have written a paragraph, you need to write an entire essay. AS AN ADDED BONUS. FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO CONTINUALLY SEEK EXTRA CREDIT: You may make a video using PhotoStory, MovieMaker, or IMovie of your poem or the song you choose. The effort needs to be significant as it will replace your lowest essay grade for the first quarter. NOW, LETS LOOK AT THOSE TWO VIDEOS:
SONG LYRICS - HAUNTED - BY POE
Come here Pretty please Can you tell me where I am? You Won't you say something? I need to get my bearings I'm lost And the shadows keep on changing
And I'm haunted By the lives that I have loved And actions I have hated I'm haunted By the lives that wove the web Inside my haunted head
Don't cry There's always a way Here in November in this house of leaves We'll pray Please, I know it's hard to believe To see a perfect forest Through so many splintered trees You and me And these shadows keep on changing
And I'm haunted By the lives that I have loved And actions I have hated I'm haunted By the promises I've made And others I have broken, I We're haunted By the lives that wove the web Inside my haunted head
Hallways... always...
I'll always want you I'll always need you I'll always love you And I will always miss you, ah...
Come here No I won't say please One more look at the ghost Before I'm gonna make it leave Come here I got the pieces here Time to gather up the splinters Build a casket for my tears
By the hallways in this tiny room The echo there of me and you The voices that are carrying this tune
(Father: What is it, Annie?) (Daughter: You think I'll cry? I won’t cry! My heart will break before I cry!) (Daughter: I will go mad.)
Come here Pretty please Can you tell me where I am? You Won't you say something? I need to get my bearings I'm lost And the shadows keep on changing
And I'm haunted By the lives that I have loved And actions I have hated I'm haunted By the lives that wove the web Inside my haunted head
Don't cry There's always a way Here in November in this house of leaves We'll pray Please, I know it's hard to believe To see a perfect forest Through so many splintered trees You and me And these shadows keep on changing
And I'm haunted By the lives that I have loved And actions I have hated I'm haunted By the promises I've made And others I have broken, I We're haunted By the lives that wove the web Inside my haunted head
Hallways... always...
I'll always want you I'll always need you I'll always love you And I will always miss you, ah...
Come here No I won't say please One more look at the ghost Before I'm gonna make it leave Come here I got the pieces here Time to gather up the splinters Build a casket for my tears
I'm haunted By the hallways in this tiny room The echo there of me and you The voices that are carrying this tune
(Father: What is it, Annie?) (Daughter: You think I'll cry? I won’t cry! My heart will break before I cry!) (Daughter: I will go mad.)
Thomas R. Lounsbury, ed. (1838–1915). Yale Book of American Verse. 1912.
Edgar Allan Poe. 1809–1849
84. The Raven
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. "'T is some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door; 5 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, 10 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 15 "'T is 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; 20 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.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, 25 Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?" This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore:" Merely this and nothing more. 30
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. "Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore; Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore: 35 'T is the wind and nothing more."
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door, 40 Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door: Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,— "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, 45 Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore: Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore; 50 For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door, Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as "Nevermore."
But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only 55 That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered, not a feather then he fluttered, Till I scarcely more than muttered,—"Other friends have flown before; On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before." Then the bird said, "Nevermore." 60
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore: Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore 65 Of 'Never—nevermore.'
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore, 70 What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining 75 On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. 80 "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!" Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore." Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil! 85 Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted— On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore: Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." 90
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil—prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us, by that God we both adore, Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore: Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore!" 95 Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting: "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! quit the bust above my door! 100 Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, 105 And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor: And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted—nevermore!
This year we will build a literary term reference guide in class authored by the students in this class. For each term, the student responsible for the assigned term will need to find a symbolic graphic or picture to help his classmates anchor the term in their brains. The student will need to define the term and give two examples of the term in action. One of the examples needs to come from a play, novel, short story, or poem we are studying in class. The other example should be crafted by the writer herself. I have posted an example of what the finished product should look like when you are done. Each student is responsible for posting two terms for the first quarter. After that, we will move on. Here is a list of the terms.
