trees

trees

Monday, May 14, 2012

Literary Commentary on The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga



“One day Kusum found out about me and the fort. She followed me all the way from our home to the pond with the stones, and saw what I was doing. That night she told my father, “He just stood there gaping at the fort—just the way his mother used to. He is going to come to nothing good in life, I’ll tell you that right now.”
When I was maybe thirteen I decided to go up to the fort on my own. I waded into the pond, got to the other side, and climbed up the hill; just as I was on the verge of going in, a black thing materialized in the entranceway. I spun around and ran back down the hill, too frightened even to cry.
It was only a cow. I could see this from a distance, but I was too shaken up to go back.
I tried many more times, yet I was such a coward that each time I tried to go up, I lost my nerve and came back.
At the age of twenty-four, when I was living in Dhanbad and working in Mr. Ashok’s service as a chauffeur, I returned to Laxmangarh when my master and his wife went there on an excursion. It was a very important trip for me, and one I hope to describe in greater detail when time permits. For now, all I want to tell you is this: While Mr. Ashok and Pinky Madam were relaxing, having eaten lunch, I had nothing to do, so I decided to try again. I swam through the pond, walked up the hill, went into the doorway, and entered the Black Fort for the first time. There wasn’t much around—just some broken walls and a bunch of frightened monkeys watching me from a distance. Putting my foot on the wall, I looked down on the village from there. My little Laxmangarh. I saw the temple tower, the market, the glistening line of sewage, the landlords’ mansions—and my own house, with that dark little cloud outside—the water buffalo. It looked like the most beautiful sight on earth.
I leaned out from the edge of the fort in the direction of my village—and then I did something too disgusting to describe to you.
Well, actually, I spat. Again and again. And then, whistling and humming, I went back down the hill.
Eight months later, I slit Mr. Ashok’s throat” (Adiga 35-36).


On pages 35-36 of Aravind Adiga’s novel The White Tiger, the dominant impression is Balram’s shift from servitude to mastery.  This dominant impression is achieved through symbolism, connotations of the words, the shift in atmosphere, alliteration, parallelism, and imagery.  These literary devices work together to show an important turning point in the story of Balram Halwai.  This turning point also illustrates the main theme of The White Tiger.  Born into poverty, Balram’s desperation justified him killing his master to make the change from eternal servitude to mastery.  This passage describes the moment when Balram makes the decision to defy morality and social hierarchy by becoming a master instead of a servant.
In this passage there are multiple symbolic items and events that illustrate Balram’s shift from servitude to mastery.  The “Black Fort” is an imposing structure on a hill overlooking Balram’s village, Laxmangarh.  The “Black Fort” symbolizes the historical social hierarchy that Balram initially conforms to.  At first, Balram is too intimidated to enter the Black Fort, symbolizing how he cannot face defying the social class he was born into.  “When I was maybe thirteen I decided to go up to the fort on my own...just as I was on the verge of going in, a black thing materialized in the entranceway. I spun around and ran back down the hill, too frightened even to cry.  It was only a cow...”.  At the same time, Balram recognizes that the “Black Fort,” the social hierarchy, might not actually be as powerful as it seems.  Balram continues to persevere and try to enter the Black Fort.  “I tried many times, yet I was such a coward that each time I tried to go up, I lost my nerve and came back”.  Eventually, Balram enters the Black Fort and realizes that it is not so impressive.  He spits on the fort and his village and says, “Eight months later, I slit Mr. Ashok’s throat”.  When Balram entered the fort and recognized that it was not as intimidating as he thought, it symbolized his recognition that the social class system can be defied. When Balram realizes this he kills his master and makes the shift from servitude to mastery.  
The connotations of words in this passage indicate the shift from servitude to mastery.  Before Balram enters the Black Fort, the words of the passage connote powerlessness and servitude.  Balram is described as “gaping” at the Black Fort, at the power of the social hierarchy, suggesting that Balram is overcome by his powerlessness to the social hierarchy.  Balram describes himself as “ frightened” and a “coward”.  His own grandmother, Kusum, tells him “He is going to come to nothing good in life”.  Balram comes back to Laxmangarh not on his own terms, but only because his master returned and brought Balram with him, indicating that Balram is in servitude.  “I returned to Laxmangarh when my master and his wife went there on an excursion...While Mr. Ashok and Pinky Madam were relaxing, having eaten lunch, I had nothing to do, so I decided to try again [to enter the Black Fort]”.  Balram enters the Black Fort only when his master allows him.  However, once he enters the Black Fort, the connotations of the words change.  Balram recognizes the Black Fort is not as intimidating as he thought: “There wasn’t much around—just some broken walls and a bunch of frightened monkeys watching me from a distance”.  Now the the Black Fort is “frightened” of Balram, not the other way around.  Balram puts his foot “on the wall” of the Black Fort and looks down on his village possessively: “My little Laxmangarh”.  The connotation of “looking down on something” instead of “gaping up” at the Fort indicate that Balram now feels like he is in charge.  He even spits on the fort and his village, actions that connote contempt and disregard for the social hierarchy that keeps him in servitude.  Then he heads down the hill “whistling and humming,” connoting that he feels free and unencumbered by the social hierarchy.  
The change in the connotations of the words creates a shift in the atmosphere that supports the shift from servitude to mastery.  In the beginning the atmosphere is one of powerlessness and intimidation but at the end the atmosphere is one of purposeful power.  
The critical sentence that indicates the shift from servitude to mastery is accented by both alliteration and parallelism.  Balram says he “entered the Black Fort for the first time”.  This alliteration emphasizes that this is the “first” time Balram is entering the fort.  That moment is when Balram makes the shift from servitude to mastery.  Parallelism is also shown in the critical sentence: “I swam through the pond, walked up the hill, went into the doorway, and entered the Black Fort for the first time...".  The parallelism in this sentence creates a feeling of anticipation that leads to Balram literally crossing the threshold from servitude into mastery.  Together, parallelism and alliteration create a sentence that makes Balram’s crucial moment of change stand out.   
Imagery of Balram’s village reinforces Balram’s shift from servitude to mastery.  Balram recognizes that his village is beautiful in some ways.  The social hierarchy argues that the living conditions Balram was born into are good enough for him.  Balram acknowledges this when he says “I saw the temple tower, the market, the glistening line of sewage, the landlords’ mansions—
and my own house, with that dark little cloud outside—the water buffalo.  It looked like the most beautiful sight on earth”.  This combination of hyperbole and imagery show that Balram knows he could continue to live like he has been, yet he does not.  This imagery and hyperbole accentuates how Balram consciously made the decision to defy the social hierarchy.  He knew his village was beautiful in some ways and that his life was liveable but he still decides that he deserves better.  Spitting on his village that he called beautiful only a moment before, emphasizes that he has rejected servitude for mastery.
Lastly, the shocking ending of the passage cements the idea that Balram has shifted from servitude to mastery in this passage.  The passage (and the chapter) ends with “Eight months later, I slit Mr. Ashok’s throat”.  This ending is jolting and thus emphasizes that it was in this passage that Balram made the mental shift from servant to master that resulted in him murdering his master.
In this passage, Adiga describes Balram’s shift from servitude to mastery.  This is the passage where Balram decides he must murder his master or remain a servant forever.  Adiga’s book The White Tiger deals with precisely the morality and effects of the actions displayed in this passage.  It is a powerful idea and a controversial one that murder and other immoral actions can be justified by extreme circumstances like poverty.  

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Literary Commentary on The Inferno


Ellen Light
Ms. Peifer
10 IB English Per. 3
23 January 2012
Commentary on The Inferno
“Whereat I turned and saw beneath my feet/ and stretching out ahead, a lake so frozen/ it seemed to be made of glass. So thick a sheet/ never yet hid the Danube’s winter course,/ nor, far away beneath the frigid sky,/ locked the Don up in its frozen source:/ for were Tanbernick and the enormous peak/ of Pietrapana to crash down on it,/ not even the edges would so much as creak./ The way frogs sit to croak, their muzzles leaning/ out of the water, at the time and season/ when the peasant woman dreams of her day’s gleaning-/ Just so the livid dead are sealed in place/ up to the part at which they blushed for shame,/ and they beat their teeth like storks. Each holds his face/ bowed toward the ice, each of them testifies/ to the cold with his chattering mouth, to his heart’s grief/ with tears that flood forever from his eyes.” (Alighieri 32.22-39)
            In Canto 32 of The Inferno by Dante Alighieri, lines 22-39, the dominant impression is the eternal desolation of the ninth circle and the sinners in it. This impression is achieved by imagery, a hyperbole, an epic simile, a contrast, a metaphor, alliteration and the author’s tone in these lines. These literary devices work together to emphasize one of the main messages of The Inferno: sinners deserve neither the pity of other people, nor the love of God. The sinners of the ninth circle are doomed to be forever isolated from companionship. They committed the worst sin, treachery to those they were bound to by special ties, and therefore deserve their permanent wintery punishment.
            In the opening lines of this passage, Dante describes the lake of the ninth circle as being “a lake so frozen/ it seemed to be made of glass” (23-24). This imagery shows the eternal desolation of the ninth circle – it is simultaneously beautiful and harsh, as God’s justice was understood to be.  The glassy ice of Dante’s image is a metaphor both for the absence of love as a punishment and for the permanence of that punishment. It is paramount for humans to have love and companionship. The sinners in the ninth circle committed the worst sin as they betrayed their connections to other humans. In Dante’s eyes they deserve the worst punishment, eternal desolation. This is why they are frozen in the clear ice, furthest from God’s love, able to see the other sinners but forever separated from each other. The clear, smooth, glassy ice also implies that the water was completely still when it froze. As the water was unmoving, so the punishment of the sinners is unchanging and eternal.
            Dante also uses hyperbole to emphasize how eternal the frozen lake of the ninth circle is. “So thick a sheet never yet hid the Danube’s winter course,/ nor, far away beneath the frigid sky,/ locked the Don up in its frozen source;/ for were Tanbernick and the enormous peak/ of Pietrapana to crash down on it,/ not even the edges would so much as creak” (24-30). The ice of the ninth circle is thicker than any ice on the rivers of northern Europe and so strong that even if a mountain fell on it, it would never shatter. This ice will be there until the end of time; it will never melt.
            Having described the scenery of the ninth circle, Dante describes the sinners with an epic simile that shows their eternal desolation. “The way frogs sit to croak, their muzzles leaning/ out of the water…/just so the livid dead are sealed in place/ up to the part at which they blushed for shame” (31-35). These sinners are sealed in the ice all the way up to their faces; they cannot move and are separated from one another. The comparison of the sinners to frogs squatting in the water helps the reader imagine this dismal fate. Even though the sinners might regret their actions and “blush for shame,” it is too late. Their fate is sealed, just like they are sealed in the ice.
            Throughout this entire passage, Dante contrasts a companionable summer scene with the eternal desolation of the ninth circle. He talks about the lake of the ninth circle and compares the sinners to frogs and storks “at the time and season/ when the peasant woman dreams of her day’s gleaning” (32-33), or summer.  “[The sinners] beat their teeth like storks” (36). A dreamy summer pond with storks and frogs croaking and chattering to each other is contrasted with the frigid lake and the sinners frozen in it, chattering only with cold. The ninth circle is as cold and desolate as this summer pond is warm and companionable.
            Towards the end of these lines, Dante uses the metaphor of the sinners “[testifying]/ to the cold with [their] chattering mouth, to [their] heart’s grief/ with tears” (37-39) to show the sinner’s eternal desolation. In court, one testifies by giving evidence. These sinners give evidence to their suffering with their chattering teeth and crying eyes. “Each holds his face/ bowed toward the ice…” (36-37). These sinners are suffering and they bow their heads in regret, but, once again, it is too late.
            In the last line, Dante shows the eternal desolation of the ninth circle with alliteration. He describes the sinners having “tears that flood forever from [their] eyes” (39). This alliteration emphasizes that the sinners will cry and suffer alone forever. The sinners do not talk to one other; they only sob.
            Lastly, Dante’s indifferent, dispassionate tone in these lines underscores the eternal desolation of the sinners. By the ninth circle, Dante no longer pities the sinners or feels any kind of human love or connection with them. He calls them the “livid dead” (34) and calmly compares them to frogs and chattering storks. Instead of just saying the sinners were sealed in the ice up to their faces, he indicates his casual disregard for them by describing them as “sealed in place/ up to the part at which they blushed for shame…” (34-35). He is indifferent to their pain because he thinks they deserve it.  These sinners are truly the worst human beings and they deserve their everlasting solitude.  Indeed, Dante’s own attitude toward them could be seen as part of their punishment; his behavior during the visit to the ninth circle shows that no one at all cares about them.
            In this passage, Dante describes the eternal desolation of the ninth circle. This is a powerful and important passage because it reveals something fundamental about humans: the ultimate punishment for humans is to be without each other and, by implication, without God’s love. These lines resonate with the reader precisely because everyone can imagine the horror of being isolated. What makes this state of isolation hell is its permanence.  Not only are the sinners isolated, they are isolated until the end of time. Anything can be withstood if there is an end in sight; it is the fact that the sinners will never ever escape that is so chilling. 

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Literary Commentary on Beowulf

Ellen Light
Ms. Peifer
10 IB English Period 3
16 December 2011
Commentary on Beowulf
[T]he ignominious marks of his flight/ where he’d skulked away, exhausted in spirit/ and beaten in battle bloodying the path,/ hauling his doom to the demons’ mere./ The bloodshot water wallowed and surged,/ there were loathsome upthrows and overturnings/ of waves and gore and wound-slurry./ With his death upon him, he had dived deep/ into his marsh-den, drowned out his life/ and his heathen soul: hell claimed him there./ Then away they rode, the old retainers/ with many a young man following after,/ a troop on horseback, in high spirits/ on their bay steeds. Beowulf’s doings/ were praised over and over again./ Nowhere, they said, north or south/ between the two seas or under the tall sky/ on the broad earth was there anyone better/ to raise a shield or to rule a kingdom./ Yet there was no laying of blame on their lord,/ the noble Hrothgar; he was a good king. (Beowulf 842-862)

In Beowulf lines 842-862, the dominant impression is the glory and greatness of Beowulf. This impression is achieved by dramatic diction, extensive alliteration, a central hyperbole, gory imagery of Grendel’s death, and a concluding comparison with Hrothgar. This passage is a fitting end to the story of Beowulf’s battle with Grendel because good truly triumphs over evil, with Beowulf as the hero.
The imagery of Grendel’s death is dark and sensational. It shows a great monster fleeing, wounded to his death, highlighting “[t]he ignominious marks of his flight/ where he’d skulked away, exhausted in spirit/ and beaten in battle, bloodying the path,/ hauling his doom to the demons’ mere” (842-845). This monster is so large he upsets the water as he dives in to drown: “The bloodshot water wallowed and surged,/ there were loathsome upthrows and overturnings/ of waves and gore and wound-slurry” (846-848). Throughout the description of Grendel’s death, Grendel is called a “demon” (845), a “heathen” (851) and “claimed by hell” (851). Grendel is so evil he is not even loved by God. The extensive imagery of Grendel’s death and the description of Grendel as cast out by God makes Grendel seem both powerful and vile. Beowulf, as the conqueror of such a beast, seems all the more heroic, brave, and dominant.
There is much alliteration in this passage, especially in the description of Grendel’s flight. Grendel “skulked away, exhausted in spirit/ and beaten in battle, bloodying the path,/ hauling his doom to the demons’ mere/...With his death upon him, he had dived deep...” (843-849). The cadence of the lines helps emphasize words with alliteration. Alliteration adds to the drama of Grendel’s defeat and ultimately to the glory of Beowulf.
The diction in these lines is grand and dramatic. In the description of Grendel’s death the diction creates the dark mood of the “ignominious” (862) Grendel “hauling his doom to the demons’ mere” (845). However, once Grendel is dead, the diction creates a bright, shining mood of the triumphant Beowulf and “a troop on horseback, in high spirits/ on their bay steeds” (854-855) riding home. The diction stays dramatic but the mood shifts and this dramatic change in mood shows Beowulf’s glory and greatness. Before Beowulf defeated Grendel, the world was without hope but after Grendel is dead the world is filled with light. “Beowulf’s doings/ were praised over and over again” (855-856). The dramatic diction throughout the passage shows that Grendel’s defeat is impressive and therefore that Beowulf, as Grendel’s conqueror, is great and glorified.
Towards the end of the passage Beowulf is described in a hyperbole that captures the central message of the entire story: “Nowhere, they said, north or south/ between the two seas or under the tall sky/ on the broad earth was there anyone better [than Beowulf]/ to raise a shield or to rule a kingdom” (857-860). Beowulf is the best warrior, king, and hero in the world; no one outshines him.
At the end of this passage the storyteller explains that although Beowulf is the best person to “rule a kingdom” (860), the people do not blame their actual king, Hrothgar. “Yet there was no laying of blame on their lord,/ the noble Hrothgar; he was a good king” (861-862). The people recognize that Hrothgar did the best he could against Grendel, but he could not defeat him because Beowulf was the only person who could. Beowulf is “the chosen one,” the only one strong, brave, and confident enough to win against Grendel.
Beowulf is described in this passage as the epitome of good while Grendel is the definition of evil. Beowulf conquered Grendel and therefore good defeated evil. This “happy ending” is precisely why this story is so satisfying. When the audiences – then and now – hear this story they must be comforted by the notion that Beowulf’s strength and goodness was really their strength and goodness too.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

In the play Antigone, is Ismene innocent or guilty?

In Antigone, Ismene is innocent of treason and should not be punished by Creon. Ismene did not wrongly withhold information about a crime because Antigone herself committed no crime.  
Ismene knew that Antigone planned to bury her brother, against Creon’s decree. She told Antigone: “[N]o one must hear of this, you must tell no one! I will keep it a secret, I promise!” (Sophocles Prologue.73-75). However, when Creon asked Ismene if she knew about Antigone’s plans, she responded: “Yes, if [Antigone] will let me say so” (Sophocles 1.2.147). Creon still accused Ismene of treason because she did not actively notify him.
However, Ismene was not guilty of treason because Antigone was not committing a true crime. Antigone claimed “There is no guilt in reverence for the dead” (Sophocles 1.2.121) and Haimon agreed with her: “[Creon,] you are not in a position to know everything that people say or do, or what they feel: Your temper terrifies them…I have heard them muttering and whispering in the dark about this girl. They say…‘She covered her brother’s body. Is this indecent? She kept him from dogs and vultures. Is this a crime?’” (Sophocles 1.3.60-70). Even though Antigone disobeyed Creon, what she did was correct according to the higher spiritual laws. If Creon could not properly make it a crime for Antigone to bury her brother, then he could not make it a crime not to notify him about the burial.
Creon admitted in the end that Ismene was not guilty and that ultimately Antigone was not either. Creon said: “Then [Antigone] is not a criminal?” (Sophocles 1.3.104) and Haimon responded: “The City would deny it to a man” (Sophocles 1.3.105). The play ends with Choragos deciding: “There is no happiness where there is no wisdom; no wisdom but in submission to the gods” (Sophocles Exodus.147-148). The spiritual laws made by the gods are ultimately higher than any laws made by humans. Antigone broke Creon's laws but followed the spiritual ones. Thus, Ismene was not obligated to report Antigone to Creon.

Monday, October 3, 2011

My First Post!!!!!

Hi everyone!
          My name is Ellen and I'm in high school creating my first blog! I live with my mom, dad, little sister and our two warring cats. We moved a lot and I have lived in Minnesota, Iowa and Boston, and two cities in Germany. I suppose this is both good and bad. One good thing is I am mostly fluent in German and can read German books. Twice as many books to read! My family likes to go on car trips, eat pie, and do nerdy stuff like read math books together.
          My sister and I like playing music and playing hockey together. I play the bass and she plays the violin. I also like to read. I have many favorites, but two that I can think of are The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman and A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. My favorite German book is Liverpool Street by Anne Voorhoeve. This year I am taking Geography, English, German 4, Calculus 1, Chemistry and Orchestra. I really like all of them. I like watching movies too, especially the ones by the Coen Brothers.
          Alright, more later.

Ellen