Compose a Dramatic Monologue - Due by October 31, 2008

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 New World. 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.

"On the Cover of the Rolling Stone" - or Vibe, or Magnet, or....

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.

Grammar Reminders 101 - Pronoun shifts

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.