Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Struggles


When you think about a story,and compare it to life, there are so many similarities. One main part of everyday life is getting through tough situations. It is what shapes your day and, with even larger conflicts, your life. In a story, what does all of the detail and events get based around. The answer is also the conflicts. Every tale needs at least one conflict, but some have several. In The Old Man and the Sea, the old man faced many difficulties, and not just when he was actually catching the fish, but in other parts of his life, too. Some of the main conflicts include his old age, his growing loneliness, the sharks attacking his fish, and the hand that he hurt when fighting to catch the massive fish.

Santiago was the main character of this novella, and he was a very old man. Not only that, but he is also very worn out from fishing all of his life. Although he had the youth of the little boy with him for a while, when Manolin had to go back to work with his father, Santiago was left to do things on his own. He was very capable of fishing, but not as proficient to take on large journeys and adventures out to sea. This was not only because he was getting older, but also he was lonely without Manolin. Although they were not very talkative on the boat, he was still a companion to have, and Santiago knew that the little boy was a great help to him. There were many small jobs that the boy did that were still very important to the old man. The old man had several points during his trip when he missed the boy very much, and found himself talking to himself more than usual. “No one should be alone in their old age, he thought. But it is unavoidable” (48). Here, Hemingway shows that Santiago knows of his disadvantages as being a very old fishermen, but was not fretful about this, but instead wise, and aware of his situation being without the boy.

If the boy had been with him, then he may not have faced another conflict. As he was struggling with the gigantic fish, he cut his left hand on the taut line. This caused it to be useless and cramp up, where he could not loosen it at all. This also related to the boy being absent on this fishing trip because Santiago explains that Manolin would have wet the lines for him to keep it from happening. “If the boy were here he could rub [his hand] and loosen it down from the forearm, he thought” (62). Santiago probably felt very careless when he cut his hand on the line, but he also felt that if Manolin was there, then he would not have been as sloppy with how he injured himself.

Santiago was able to catch the grand fish and he was very proud of it;however, he faced a conflict in bringing it back to the island. He had made decision to go so far out that once he caught the fish, he would have travel back hoping not to be attcked by too many sharks. It was very difficult for him to get them away. “...the old man could hear the noise of skin and flesh ripping on the big fish when he rammed the harpoon down onto the shark’s head” (102). He had to do this several times, and by the last sharks, he could no longer hold them off. His whole fish was gone, and he arrived back to the island with nothing but a carcass. This made him very elegiac, especially after the long journey he had been through.

Conflict builds a story up to a climax, and the more intense the conflict is, the more interesting the story will be. This is the same with how life is everyday. In the Old Man and the Sea, Ernest Hemingway included several smaller conflicts around the main conflict of trying to catch a gigantic fish after catching nothing for eighty-five straight days. Stories are the same as a person's life; they include conflicts that need to be resolved and others that are not resolved, and they all have an affect on the outcome.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Third Quarter Outside Reading Book Review

The Lucky One by Nicholas Sparks. Grand Central Publishing, 2009.
Genre: Realistic-Romantic Fiction
The Lucky One is about a retired Marine, Logan Thibault, who finds a photograph of a woman during his tour in Iraq. He keeps the photo with him, and after a while of being in near death situations, people begin saying it is his good luck charm. After the war, he decides to look for her, and after doing a lot of research and guessing, he eventually finds her in North Carolina. A strong relationship between them begins, but there are still some secrets. With this, conflicts rise, and some might tear them apart.
"Has everything," says 1340MagBooks.com, "a great romance, a closer look at the effects of war, a couple of plot twists, a tender mother-son relationship, a good dose of suspense, a loyal friendship, and an entertaining grandmother... I enjoyed every page."
The story is told from three different views, but it is in third person limited according to the character that the chapter is about. Nicholas Sparks uses dialogue in such a realistic way, it makes you feel like you are also in the story. Like many of his other books, he is descriptive, poetic, and romantic in the way he writes.
"But when she closed her eyes, she kept visualizing the way the corners of his mouth would turn up slightly whenever she said something he found humorous or the way his eyebrows knit together when he concentrated on a task. For a long time, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep, wondering if maybe, just maybe, Logan was awake and thinking of her, too"(144).
I am a huge fan of Spark's novels, and I love the way they transport you to a different time and place, and truly put you into the character's footsteps. His poetic words are like no other author, and that is one of the many qualities that I enjoy about his stories. In this specific novel, he is very realistic and shows the real effects of war and how realtionships can change people. It also shows how the smallest thing can change someone's life very dramatically. This is one of his best books, and one of the best books I have read, and I would definitely recommend it.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Lexi's Lovely Lilac Bicycle


As I pull into the driveway, I can feel my hair blowing behind me. I jump off my bike and run inside.
“Lexi!” My mom calls again, thinking I am still outside.
“I’m right here,” I exclaim as I step into the kitchen. “Can Gabby come over and go bike riding for a little bit longer after I eat lunch?” Gabby is my best friend and we did everything together. We love to bike ride, and now that we are in the fourth grade, my mom lets me and Gabby ride our bikes past the end of our street. My mom likes it, too, and says that it is very salutary, whatever that means, but I think it is just a lot of fun!
“I suppose she can…did she already ask her mother?”
“Yes. She said it was fine.”
“Okay, then it is fine with me.”
“Thanks mom!” I force the sandwich my mom just made for me into my mouth so that I can get back to riding my bike. When I finished, Gabby was waiting for me outside.
“What took you so long?”
“I was eating! Guess what? My mom said that you could come over!”
“Yes!” Gabby and I loved to be together. We always got along so well.
“Let’s go bike riding!” That was my favorite thing to do, and Gabby knew it.
“We just went bike riding! Let’s go inside and play with your Barbies.” Of course right when she made that suggestion, my neighbor, Bobby Flechet and his friends, who were a year older than us came walking down the street.
“Look at these girls! What are you too scared to stay outside now that us boys are here?” Bobby was in our class, and he has always thought that boys were better than girl: in sports, in school, in everything. He was mean to everybody, but at recess, he was especially mean to us girls and always alienated us from their games. If there was one thing I hated more than playing Barbies, it was playing outside with Bobby. Gabby could always stand up to him.
“Yeah, we ARE girls! But, we’re not scared of you!” Bobby stuck his tongue out at her, and she stuck hers out right back at him. “Come on let’s go inside, Lex!” I could not say no to that. I would rather play Barbies than stay outside with Bobby. We played inside until dinner, and then Gabby had to go home. It had been a normal day with Gabby, and I liked normal days.

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The next morning, as I walked down the driveway to meet Gabby at the bus stop, I noticed something was missing. My bike! I immediately ran back up to the house and looked in the garage. Nothing, just the car. “MOM!”
“Yes, honey, what do you need?”
“Do you know where my bike is?”
“I don’t know, just go to school and we will see what we can find in the afternoon.”
“Okay...” My bike meant the world to me. It was a shade of violet that had the smallest hint of pink in it. It had a sparkly, purple basket and a bell on the left handle bar, along with rainbow streamers flowing out of both sides. It was truly ethereal! The only imperfection is the scratch from last winter when I fell at the end of Gabby’s driveway because I was trying to bike when it was snowing. It wasn’t my fault there was ice at the end I thought to myself, as I began retracing every one of my steps. On the bus ride I told Gabby all about my missing bike. What could have happened to it, and where I should start looking. We walked home together, and Gabby explained to me that she had a dentist appointment today, so she would not be able to play today. Good, that gives me more time to look for my bicycle. And with that thought still in my head, I walked home with plans to find my bicycle. I walked in the door and I knew something was wrong by the look on my mother’s face. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Honey, your bike is definitely not here.” I felt like crying. What if we never found it? What if I never got to ride it ever again? I rushed into my room in great morose and jumped onto my bed. Just the thought of losing it devastated me. Knock, Knock.
“Lexi, can I come in.” My mother stepped in the room with a gloomy face. “I know that bike meant a lot to you, but we can keep looking, and if we don’t find it, then we will buy you a new one.”
I was not assuaged by that.
“But, I don’t want a new one, I want my bike!”
“Well, we’ll look again, but if we can’t find it, then you have to let go of it, sweetie. You have to be more careful about where you leave your things.” I was furious. It wasn’t my fault that my bike was missing. I remember putting it right back in the garage before Gabby and I went to play inside yesterday.
“Wait! Mom!” I thought of exactly what happened to it, “It must have been Bobby and his friends!” “Alexis! Do not start pointing fingers at anyone! Bobby is a nice boy who would never do anything like that.” I almost spoke again with a rebuttal, but I knew it would not do anything except get me into trouble. If my mom would not listen, then I knew someone who would, Gabby. I dialed her phone number right away, but when the answering machine picked up, I remembered that she had a dentist appointment.
“Hi Gabby it’s Lexi. I know you’re at the dentist right now, but I really need to talk to you, so call me back right when you get this!” I pressed the END button on the phone and placed it on the receiver. I guess I would have to wait until tomorrow to find my bike.

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I ran down the street to meet Gabby at the bus stop the next morning because I was so excited to tell her about my bike. She was standing there as usual with her hair in braids and her blue lunch box in her hand. “Gabby! Gabby! I have great news!” Gabby looked a little confused as I told her about how Bobby and his group of friends stole my bike and the way we were going to get it back from him.
“But Lexi,” Gabby said in a concerned tone.
“What if he didn’t take it? And what if we get in trouble?” Obviously Gabby thought that my ideas were extemporaneous, but I had already figured out a way to be furtive and get my bike back.
“Don’t worry, I have everything figured out,” I reassured her.
When we got home, I found my old scooter and me and Gabby went for a ride once around the the neighborhood, and then when we got back, we put our plan into action. Gabby and I snuck over to The Flechet’s house. I crept into their dark shed, and felt around for handlebars.Yes! I found it! I thought to myself as my fingers gripped the handle. But where are my streamers? He must have taken them off! I carefully rolled my bike out of the shed, making sure I did not knock anything over, or make any noise. As I stepped into the light, I saw Bobby standing there with Gabby, and they were both staring at me like I did something very wrong.
“Ha! See I knew it! You’re a thief Bobby Flechet!” I was relieved that I finally found my bike, but when Gabby pointed, signaling me to look down, I saw that it was Bobby’s Army green bike, with no streamers or bell or basket. I was in a huge impasse. I could feel my face get hot, and I knew it was turning red.
Mrs. Flechet came out, and asked, “What is going on here?”
“Mom! Lexi was trying to steal my bike!” Mrs. Flechet then called my mom, and they gave a harangue about how stealing is bad, and how I am in really big trouble. I felt like a malefactor, and that is probably what the Flechet's thought of me, too.
As we walked home, I told my mom, “I wasn’t trying to steal his bike! I thought he stole my bike!”
“Well, Lexi, you assumed wrong, and it was still wrong of you to sneak into their backyard, their shed is even worse.” We walked up the driveway, and although my dad’s car was blocking my view at first, as we got closer to the door, I saw rainbow streamers in the distance.
I was elated! “Mom! Where did you find it?”
“Go ask your father, honey.” As I ran up to my bike, I saw that he was juxtaposed to it.
“Dad where did you find it?!?”
“ I took it into the shop to fix the scratch from last winter, but I wanted it to be a surprise!”
I laughed. “So you stole my bike! Thank you daddy!”

I felt so terrible that I accused Bobby of stealing my bike. I ran over to his house, and asked to speak to him. I was going to be as tenacious as possible to get him to forgive me, but I did not want him to feel forced.
“Hi, Bobby.” I said.
“What do you want?” He said, I could tell he was very angry with me, and he had a good reason to be. I then explained the whole story of why I went into his shed and why it looked like I was trying to steal his bike. When I was finished, I looked at him, hoping that he would be able to forgive me. “Well, that’s a pretty brave thing to do, especially for a girl. I guess I forgive you.”
“Thank you Bobby!” I said, “I am so sorry I assumed you took it!” I was so happy that Bobby forgave me, and from then on, I knew not to assume anything, and there is a reason for everything.