Monday, December 30, 2019

Dying By Lucy Serpell And Janet Treasure - 957 Words

I watched the documentary Dying to be Thin, which aired on PBS, it followed the lives of young women who have struggled with eating disorders such as anorexia nervosa and bulimia. There were many thoughts which raced through my mind. After having watched Dying to be Thin I read the articles Anorexia Nervosa: Friend or Foe? By Lucy Serpell, Janet Treasure, John Teasdale, and Victoria Sullivan. I also had read Bulimia Nervosa: Friend or Foe? The Pros and Cons of Bulimia Nervosa by Lucy Serpell and Janet Treasure. What first captured my attention was when the narrator of the documentary spoke about a young woman Heidi Gunther. The narrator stated that Heidi Gunther died at age 22 due to her heart giving out, which was caused by an eating disorder. I think about this and I think about how her body no longer had enough nutrition for her to live. This made me think about what other women said in the documentary. Katy Tracey said that an eating disorder is â€Å"love, glory, power†. These are powerful words. If a young woman is saying that an eating disorder is having love, having glory, and having power then what else is left? It sounded like what the deeper meaning behind those words are would be that that an eating disorder consumes the person who has it until there is nothing left. It is interesting to look at anorexia nervosa and bulimia nervosa and dissect them more closely. From what I have learned from the articles bulimia nervosa has â€Å"Two positive themes (BN allowing the

Sunday, December 22, 2019

Niccolo Machiavelli And Plato - 1890 Words

Niccolo Machiavelli and Socrates are widely regarded as two of history’s greatest thinkers, both of which had strong, albeit very different, ideas of what it meant for a person, or a ruler, to be good and virtuous. From Socrates’ thoughts and ideas as recorded in the Apology and Crito, it can be concluded that he would not find Machiavelli’s version of â€Å"the Prince† to be the ideal ruler, or preside over a completely prosperous society. Although, Socrates may have disagreed with many of the aspects of what Machiavelli thought the Prince should be, he would, however, be supportive of the Prince’s political system overall because of his belief that every man has a duty to follow and uphold the laws of the society in which they live.†¦show more content†¦The Prince, by Machiavelli’s standards, was a virtuous man, meaning that he was someone that possessed the traits necessary for one to be a strong ruler. For example, Machiavelli believed that the Prince should be courageous, ambitious, confident, well-learned, and also have good foresight. Simply, Machiavelli associated virtue with success, and a prince with virtue was one that would go to any length to be a successful ruler. Socrates on the other hand thought that a virtuous man was one that strived for truth and goodness in all situations, and followed the laws of the land in which he was living (Crito, 54B). Following from the difference in opinions of virtue, there is another closely related area in which Machiavelli and Socrates thoughts differ; goodness and justice. Socrates believed that a man should be good and virtuous in all aspects of his life, however, Machiavelli simply did not believe this was possible. Machiavelli states, â€Å"everyone will admit that it would be highly praiseworthy in a prince to possess all the†¦qualities that are reputed good, but as they cannot all be possessed or observed, human conditions not permitting of it, it is necessary that he should be prudent enough to avoid the scandal of those vices which would lose him the state† (Machiavelli, Chapter 15, 57). From this it can be concluded that Machiavelli believes that the Prince should not try to be good and virtuous in all respects, but only in the ones in which it benefitsShow MoreRelatedNiccolo Machiavelli And Plato1693 Words   |  7 PagesNiccolo Machiavelli and Socrates (through Plato) have both given the world plenty of advice when it comes to governing. Both men have contributed to the debate of what a ‘prince’, or ruler, should look like. They lived in different time periods but were both surrounded by political uncertainty and fragmentation, which contributed to their views of government. Their ideals of a prince overlap in ways, but overall there are glaring differences in how they think a ‘prince’ should rule. A strong exampleRead MoreComparsion of Realism and Idealism in Niccolo Machiavelli ´s The Prince and Socrates ´ Plato ´s Republic1101 Words   |  5 PagesWhen speaking of Niccolà ² Machiavelli from The Prince and Socrates, from Plato’s Republic, there is no way to avoid the clash between realism and idealism. The contrasting of both of these states of minds, when it comes to ruling a city, per se, is fascinating because, while they are extremely different, they’re perceiving the same objective: ruling a civilization successfully. Machiavelli uses the concepts of virtà ¹, fortuna, and free-will to describe political success. On the other hand, in TheRead MoreEssay about Niccolo Machiavelli1653 Words   |  7 Pages According to legend, just before his death, Niccolo Machiavelli told his friends that had remained faithful to him up until the very end about a dream he had had. In his dream, he had seen a group of peasants, wretched and decrepit in appearance. He asked them who they were. They replied, ‘We are the saintly and the blessed; we are on our way to heaven.’ Then he saw a crowd of formally attired men, aristocratic and grim in appearance, speaking solemnly of important political matters. Again, heRead MoreMachiavelli Plato Rebuplic Prince Comparison1419 Words   |  6 PagesHaà ¾im Cihan Demirkà ¶prà ¼là ¼, 20303433 Essay Question: Compare the Characteristics of the true guardians, as described by Plato (Republic, bk VII, pp.158 #8211; 61, 484b #8211; 487e) with the characteristics of the rulers, as described by Machiavelli (The Prince, ch.15, pp. 47 #8211; 49 and ch. 18, pp.54f). What is the most important difference between the two accounts? In your view, which account is better, and why? For centuries, every ruler created their own principles and rules and somehowRead MoreSocrates And Niccolo Machiavelli1735 Words   |  7 PagesEssay 1: Socrates and Machiavelli Although Socrates and Niccolo Machiavelli lived in different time periods, the political climate that their philosophies were founded on were very similar. The trial of Socrates began after the Peloponnesian War when the new Spartan Tyranny took over the Athenian government. Socrates was accused of corrupting the youth and disrespecting the gods by the Spartan government. In the eyes of the Spartan government Socrates is a gadfly because of his posing of upsettingRead MoreThe Dimensions of Morality in The Prince and The Republic of Plato1001 Words   |  5 Pagesregards to our moral responsibility for each other. Throughout history many writers and philosophers have taken different angles the concept of morality and have applied it in many ways. This includes: Niccolà ² Machiavelli with The Prince (we will be looking at The Qualities of the Prince) and Plato with The Republic (we will be looking at the section The Allegory of the Cave. The Prince (1513) essentially lays out a how-t o guide of how to obtain power and how to keep it; The Qualities of the PrinceRead MoreSir Thomas More s Utopia And Niccolo Machiavelli s The Prince1454 Words   |  6 PagesSir Thomas More’s Utopia and Niccolo Machiavelli’s The Prince reflect the ideals of the Renaissance. Their reflections of the Renaissance are similar; however, their representations of the Renaissance also have distinct differences. The Renaissance or â€Å"rebirth† was a cultural movement that accompanied the passage of Europe from the Middle Ages to modern times. Niccolo Machiavelli was an Italian civic humanist, historian, diplomat, philosopher, politician, and writer during the Renaissance. He appliedRead MoreCompare And Contrast Socrates And Machiavelli1419 Words   |  6 Pagesvs. Machiavelli: The meaning of truth As philosophers, both Socrates and Niccolo Machiavelli developed theories in response to the warring political environment around them. However, the theories and principles developed by the two philosophers are vastly different in regard to the concept of truth, Socrates would hate Machiavelli’s model prince due to Machiavelli’s manipulative view of truth. While Socrates desired a state that focuses on fundamental truth and ethical decisions, Machiavelli advocatedRead MoreOryx And Crake And Political Practices911 Words   |  4 Pagespolitical theory. Atwood’s dystopian world is one that many political philosophers would compare to premises set forth by Thomas Hobbes, Niccolà ³ Machiavelli, Aristotle, and Plato. The political lens that this work can be viewed through allows for a portion of each philosophers ideas and theories to shine through. The first theory that is applicable is that of Plato. In Plato’s Republic one is introduced to a theoretical work in which the perfect just society is divided into three categories basedRead More Christianity According to St. Augustine and Machiavelli Essay1388 Words   |  6 Pagesmakes it more evident that Christianity persuades his views. Although it seems his writings have become quite well known and admired, not everyone fully shared his beliefs. Niccolo Machiavelli, for instance, seemed to believe in a government that was not driven by morality, but more by practicality. In, The Prince, Machiavelli stresses that the moral fibers of government should not be so soft. Like St. Augustine, his work went on to become one of the most famous books ever written about politics.

Saturday, December 14, 2019

Gump and Co. Chapter 1 Free Essays

string(229) " assing around in New Orleans, good ole Lieutenant Dan had took Sue, my friend who was a ape – an orangutang, to be exact – an gone back over to Bayou La Batre to help out with some problems runnin the srimp bidness\." Chapter 1 Let me say this: Everbody makes mistakes, which is why they put a rubber mat around spitoons. But take my word for it – don’t never let nobody make a movie of your life’s story. Whether they get it right or wrong, it don’t matter. We will write a custom essay sample on Gump and Co. Chapter 1 or any similar topic only for you Order Now Problem is, people be comin up to you all the time, askin questions, pokin TV cameras in your face, wantin your autograph, tellin you what a fine feller you are. Ha! If bullshit came in barrels, I’d get me a job as a barrel-maker an have more money than Misters Donald Trump, Michael Mulligan, an Ivan Bozosky put together. Which is a matter I will go into in a little bit. But first, let me bring you up to date on my sorry tale. A lot has gone on in my life in the last ten or so years. First, I am ten or so years older, which is not as much fun as some people think. I have got a few gray hairs on my head, an I ain’t near as fast as I used to be, which is somethin I found out straightaway when I tried to make me some money playin football again. It was down in New Orleans, where I had wound up after everthin else happened, an it was just me there. I had got a job sweepin out a strip joint called Wanda’s, which didn’t close till about three A.M., an so I got my days pretty free. One night I was just settin there in a corner watchin my friend Wanda do her thing on stage when a big fight commenced up front. They was people hollerin, cussin, thowin chairs, tables, beer bottles, an knockin each other in the head, an women screamin, too. I did not think too much of all this, account of it happened about two or three times ever night, except this time, I thought I recognized one of the participants. It was a big ole feller with a beer bottle in his hand, swingin it in a way that I had not seen since I was up to the University of Alabama way back when. Lo an behole, it was old Snake, the quarterback who one time had thowed the ball out of bounds on fourth down to stop the clock when we was playin them cornshucker bastids from Nebraska in the Orange Bowl twenty years ago. An that, of course, lost us the game an made me have to go to Vietnam an – well, let’s don’t worry about all that now. Anyhow, I went over an grapped the beer bottle from Snake, an he was so glad to see me he punched me on top of the head, which was a mistake because it sprained his wrist, an he commenced to holler an cuss, an about that time the police showed up an hauled all of us off to jail. Now, jail is a place I know somethin about, account of I have been there at various times. In the mornin, after everbody else sobered up, the jailer brung us some fried bologna an stale bread an begun astin if we want to call somebody to get us loose. Snake is mad as hell, an he say, â€Å"Forrest, ever time I come around your big dumb ass, I wind up in hot water. Here I ain’t seen you in years and look what happens. We is thowed in jail!† I just nodded my head, cause Snake is right. Anyhow somebody come an bail us all out, Snake an his friends an me, too, an this guy is not very happy, an Snake, he ast me, â€Å"What in hell were you doin in that dive anyhow?† When I tole him I was the cleanup man, Snake get a kind of funny look on his face an says, â€Å"Hell, Gump, I thought you still had the big srimp company over at Bayou La Batre. What happened? You was a millionaire.† An I had to tell him the sad story. The srimp company went bust. I had left the srimp company an gone on my way after a while, cause I got tired of all the bullshit that comes with runnin a big bidness enterprise. An I put the thing in the hands of my mama an my friends Lieutenant Dan from Vietnam an Mister Tribble, who was the chessmaster that taught me the game. First, Mama died, an that’s all I got to say about that. Next, Lieutenant Dan calls me an says he’s gonna quit, on account of he’s made enough money anyhow. An then one day I got a letter from the Internal Revenue Service, says I ain’t paid my bidness taxes an they is fixin to shut me down an take all the boats an buildins an all, an when I went over there to see what was goin on, lo an behole, ain’t nothin goin on! All the buildins are about empty an weeds is growin up around the place, an they have done pulled out all the phones an turned the electricity off, an the sheriff has nailed up a paper on the front door sayin we are under â€Å"foreclosure. † I gone around to see ole Bubba’s daddy to find out what had happened. Now, Bubba was my partner an my friend from the army over at Vietnam, which is where he was kilt, but Bubba’s daddy had helped me, an so I figgered I would get the real story from him. He is settin on the stoop of his house, lookin sad, when I walked up. â€Å"What is goin on with the srimp bidness?† I ast. He shook his head. â€Å"Forrest,† he says, â€Å"it is a sad and sorry thing. I’m afraid you have been ruint.† â€Å"But why?† I ast. â€Å"Betrayed† is what he answered. Then he tole me the story. While I was assing around in New Orleans, good ole Lieutenant Dan had took Sue, my friend who was a ape – an orangutang, to be exact – an gone back over to Bayou La Batre to help out with some problems runnin the srimp bidness. You read "Gump and Co. Chapter 1" in category "Essay examples" The problems was that we was runnin out of srimp to catch. It seems that everbody in the whole world wanted srimp. People in places like Indianapolis who had never even heard of srimp a few years before was now demandin that every fast-food restaurant serve them up big platters day an night. We caught srimp fast as we could, but there are just so many srimp to go around an after a few years, we wadn’t catchin half what we had when we started, an in fact, the whole srimp industry was in a panic. Bubba’s daddy didn’t know exactly what happened next, but whatever it was, things went from bad to worse. First, Lieutenant Dan quit. Bubba’s daddy says he saw him drivin off in a big limousine with a lady wearin spike-heeled shoes an a blond Beatle wig, an Dan was wavin two big champagne bottles out the winder. Next, Mister Tribble done quit, too. Just up an left one day, an after that so did everbody else, account of they not get-tin paid, an finally, the only one left to answer the phones was ole Sue, an when the phone company pulled out the phones, Sue left, too. Guess he figgered he wadn’t bein useful no more. â€Å"I reckon they took all your money, Forrest,† Bubba’s daddy said. â€Å"Who took it?† I ast him. â€Å"They all did,† he said. â€Å"Dan, Mr. Tribble, the secretaries and the crews and the office help. They was all luggin stuff out of there. Even ole Sue. Last time I seen him, he was peekin around a corner of the buildin, carryin a computer under his arm.† Well, this was all very bad news. I just couldn’t believe it! Dan. An Mister Tribble. An Sue! â€Å"Whatever,† says Bubba’s daddy. â€Å"Forrest, you is wiped out.† â€Å"Yeah,† I said, â€Å"I have been there before.† Anyhow, wadn’t nothin to do about it now. Let em have it then. That night I set there on one of our docks. Big ole half moon out over the Mississippi Sound come up an sort of hung over the water. I was thinkin that this wouldn’t of happened if Mama had of been here. An also, I was thinkin about Jenny Curran, or whoever she was now – with little Forrest, who is actually my son. An I had promised her my share of the srimp bidness so’s little Forrest would have some money to fall back on if he ever needed it. So what am I gonna do? I am ruint. Broke! An that’s okay when you are young an don’t have no responsibilities. But, hell, here I am more than thirty years old now, an I wanted to do somethin good for little Forrest. An what has happened? I have made a mess of it again. It is the story of my life. I got up an walked down to the end of the pier. Ole half moon still just hangin right there over the water. All of a sudden I just felt like cryin, an I leaned over on one of the big pilings that holds up the pier. Damn if it didn’t bust right off into the water, rotten, an carried me with it. Shit. Here I am again, a fool, standin in the water up to my waist. I wouldn’t of minded then if a shark or somethin had swum by an eat me up. But it didn’t, so I waded on out an caught the first bus back to New Orleans, just in time to start sweepin up in the strip joint. A day or so later, ole Snake dropped by Wanda’s about closin time. His hand was all bandaged up an in a splint from gettin it sprained on my head, but he had somethin else on his mind. â€Å"Gump,† he says, â€Å"let me get this straight. After all the shit you have done in life, you are now the cleanup man in a dive like this? Are you crazy? Let me ask you somethin – you still run as fast as you did in college?† â€Å"I dunno, Snake,† I said. â€Å"I ain’t had much practice.† â€Å"Well, let me tell you somethin,† he says. â€Å"I don’t know if you know it, but I am the quarterback for the New Orleans Saints. And as you might of heard, we ain’t doin so good lately. Like we is oh and eight so far, and everbody’s callin us the ‘Ain’ts’! We gotta play the goddamn New York Giants next weekend, and the way we are goin, we will then be oh and nine, and I will probably get fired.† â€Å"Football?† I ast him. â€Å"You still playin football?† â€Å"Well, what else am I gonna play, you idiot – the trombone? Now, listen here, we gotta have some kind of trick against them Giants on Sunday. And I think you might just be it. It won’t take much – just one or two plays, that’s all you’ll have to practice. You do okay, you might make a career for yourself.† â€Å"Well, I dunno, Snake. I mean, I ain’t played no football since you thowed that pass out of bounds on fourth down to stop the clock an we lost the championship to them cornshuckers from†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Damnit, Gump, don’t remind me of that again – it was twenty years ago! Everbody’s forgotten about it by now – except apparently you. For God’s sake, here you are moppin up a beer joint at two in the morning and you’re turning down the opportunity of a lifetime? What are you, some kind of nut?† I was about to answer yes when Snake interrupted me an begun scribblin on a bar napkin. â€Å"Look, here’s the address of the practice field. Be there tomorrow at one sharp. Show them this note, and tell them to bring you to me.† After he left I stuck the napkin in my pocket an went back to cleanin up the place, an that night when I went home I laid up in bed till dawn, thinkin about what Snake had said. Maybe he was right. Anyhow, might not hurt to try. I remembered those times back at the University of Alabama all them years ago, an Coach Bryant an Curtis an Bubba an the guys. An when I did, I got kind of misty-eyed, account of they were some of the best times of my life, when that crowd was roarin an yellin, an we almost always won all our games. Anyhow, I got dressed an gone out an got some breakfast, an by one o’clock I had arrived on my bicycle at the New Orleans Saints’s practice field. â€Å"Who you say you are again?† the guard asts when I shown him Snake’s napkin. He is lookin me up an down pretty suspiciously. â€Å"Forrest Gump. I used to play ball with Snake.† â€Å"Yeah, I’ll bet,† he says. â€Å"That’s what they all say.† â€Å"I did, though.† â€Å"Well, wait a minute, then.† He looked at me kind of disgusted like an went off through a door. Few minutes later he comes back, shakin his head. â€Å"All right, Mr. Gump. Follow me.† An he takes me back to the locker room. Now, I have seen some big fellers in my time. I remember them University of Nebraska players, an they was big. But all these fellers, they is not big – they is huge! In case I ain’t tole you yet, I am six-six an weigh about two hundrit forty – but these guys – they look about seven feet an three or four hundrit pounds apiece! One feller, dressed kind of official, comes up an says to me, â€Å"You lookin for somebody here, old-timer?† â€Å"Yeah,† I says. â€Å"Snake.† â€Å"Well, he ain’t here today. Coach made him go to the doctor on account of he sprained his hand hittin some idiot on the head in a bar.† â€Å"I know,† I says. â€Å"Well, anything else I can do for you?† â€Å"I dunno,† I tole him. â€Å"Snake says for me to come by here an see if y’all want me to play ball for you.† â€Å"Play ball? For us?† He got kind of a funny little squint in his eye. â€Å"Uh huh. See Snake an I was on the same team back at Alabama. He tole me last night to†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Wait a minute,† the feller says. â€Å"Your name ain’t Forrest Gump, by any chance, is it?† â€Å"Yup, sure is.† â€Å"Yeah, yeah,† he says. â€Å"I heard about you, Gump. Snake says you run like a bat out of hell.† â€Å"Dunno about that anymore. I ain’t run in a while.† â€Å"Well, I tell you what, Gump, Snake asked me to give you a tryout. Why don’t you come in here and let’s get you suited up – By the way, my name’s Coach Hurley. I coach wide receivers.† He took me back to the uniform room, an they found some clothes an shit for me. Lord it was different from back at the University. All them clothes have changed now. They got twice as many pads an pieces of rubber an stuff, so’s when you get all suited up, you look like a Mars-man or somethin, an when you stand up, you feel like you gonna tump over. When I finally get dressed, everbody else is already out on the field doin they exercises an shit. Coach Hurley motion me over to his group, which is runnin pass patterns, an say for me to get in line. I remembered this part from my playin days – just run out about ten yards an turn around an they thow you the ball. When my turn comes, I run out an turn around an the ball hits me square in the face, an it surprised me so much I tripped an fell on the ground. Coach Hurley shake his head, an I ran on back to the end of the line. Four or five times later, I ain’t caught a ball yet an all the other guys be kind of avoidin me. Like I needed a bath or somethin. After a while, Coach begun hollerin an shoutin, an everbody gone on into the scrimmage. They was divided up into two teams an after a few plays, Coach Hurley motion me over to him. â€Å"All right, Gump,† he says. â€Å"I don’t know why I am doin this, but you go on in there at wide receiver and see if you can catch a ball, so Snake, whenever he gets here, is not going to be a laughingstock – or, for that matter, me either.† I run into the huddle an tell them I am there. The quarterback looks at me like I’m nuts, but says â€Å"Okay, eight-oh-three corner post – on two – Gump, you hit it straight for about twenty yards, look out once then look back in.† An everbody breaks an gets into their position. I don’t even know where my position is, so I go on out to where I think it is, an the quarterback, he sees me an motions me in closer. He counts an the ball is snapped, an I run out what I figger is twenty yards, do a little jig, an then look back, an sure enough the ball be headed right for me. Fore I know it, it is there, right in my hands, an I grapped it an begun to run hard as I could. Damn if I ain’t gone twenty more yards when two big ole guys slam into me an knock me on the ground. Then all hell broke loose. â€Å"What in hell was that!† one of the guys shouts. â€Å"Hey – that ain’t right. What the hell’s he doin!† another one says. Two or three more come up an begun hollerin an cussin an wavin their arms at Coach Hurley. I got up an run on back to the huddle. â€Å"What’s wrong with them guys?† I ast the quarterback. â€Å"Hell, Gump, them guys are so dumb they don’t know what to do when they see somethin they ain’t seen before. They were expectin you to do what I said – go out twenty, jig, and then corner post. You did half of that – and even that was backwards. It ain’t in the playbook. Lucky I spotted you. But that was a nice catch, anyway.† Well, rest of the afternoon I caught five or six more passes, an everbody ceptin the defense was happy. Ole Snake had come back from the doctor by then an was standin on the sidelines, grinnin an jumpin up and down. â€Å"Forrest,† he says, when the scrimmage is finally over, â€Å"we is going to have us a time next Sunday afternoon against them New York Giants! It is a lucky thing that I went to your strip joint that night!† But I am wondering if this is so. Anyhow, I practiced the whole rest of that week, an by Sunday, I was feelin pretty good about mysef. Snake had got his hand out of the splint an was first-string quarterback again an was playin his heart out during the first two quarters, so’s when we went into the locker room we was only behind 22 to 0. â€Å"Okay, Gump,† Coach Hurley said. â€Å"Now we gonna show em somethin. I think we have lulled them New York Giants into a false sense of security now. They gonna be lookin for a easy ride. You will not give it to them.† Then he an some other coaches say a bunch of other bullshit an we gone on back out to the stadium. First play, somebody on our side fumbles the kickoff an we are back on our own one yard line. Just like Coach Hurley say, we have lulled them Giants into a false sense of security. Coach Hurley pat me on the butt an I went into the game. The crowd all of a sudden got sort of quiet, an then a kind of low mumbling begun – I guess because they ain’t had time to put my name into the program. Snake, he look at me with eyes flashin an say, â€Å"Okay, Forrest, now’s the time. Just do it.† He called the play, an I went out toward the sidelines. On the snap, I hauled ass downfield an turn around, an the ball ain’t there. Snake is being chased around in the backfield by five or six Giants men, back an forth, back an forth in our own end zone – he must of gained a hundred yards, but it was the wrong way. â€Å"Sorry about that,† he says, when we get back into the huddle. He reached down in his britches an pulled out a little plastic flask an took a long slug from it. â€Å"What is that?† I ast. â€Å"A hundrit percent pure orange juice, you fool,† Snake says. â€Å"You don’t think I’d be runnin around out drinkin whisky at my age, do you?† Well, they say some things never change, but they also say wonders never cease, an I am glad ole Snake is doin the right thing. Well, Snake calls the same play to me, an I run out again. By now the crowd is booin us an throwin paper cups an programs an half-eaten hotdogs onto the field. This time I turn aroun an got hit in the face by a big half-rotten tomato that somebody in the stands had brought along to indicate their displeasure, I guess. As you can imagine, it thowed me off just a little, an I put my hands up toward my face, an lo an behole, Snake’s pass catches me right there – so hard it knocked me down, but we is at least out of the hole. Now it is first an ten on our twenty, an Snake call the same play again. I am tryin to wipe the tomato off my face when Snake says, â€Å"You sort of got to watch out for them folks thowin things from the stands. They don’t mean nothin by it. It’s just their way down here.† I am wishin they would find another â€Å"way.† Anyhow, out I go, an this time before I line up I hear all this real vulgar cussin an name callin directed toward me, an I look across the line an I’ll be damned if there ain’t ole Curtis, the linebacker from my Alabama days, wearin the uniform of a New York Giant! Now, Curtis had been my ole roommate at the University for a while, at least till he thowed the outboard motor out of the athletic dorm winder onto a police car, which got him into some trouble. An later I gave him a job at the srimp company at Bayou La Batre. Long as I had known him, Curtis did not say nothin without startin it with about ten sentences of profanity, an so it was sometimes hard to figger out just what he wanted – especially when you only have about five seconds before the play starts, which was now the case. I gave him a little wave, an this seemed to surprise him so, he looked over at somebody else on his team, an that’s when our play went off. I was past Curtis like a shot, even though he tried to trip me with his feet, an headed downfield, an Snake’s ball was right there. I didn’t even lose a step – went right on into the end zone. Touchdown! Everbody was jumpin all over me an huggin an all that, an when I was walkin off Curtis come up an say to me, â€Å"Nice catch, asshole,† which was about as high a compliment as Curtis ever gave. Bout that time, somebody thowed a tomato an hit him with it, square in the face. It was the first time I ever saw Curtis speechless, an I felt sort of sorry for him. â€Å"Hey,† I says, â€Å"they don’t mean nothin by that, Curtis. It’s just their way down here in New Orleans. Why, they even thow stuff at people off their Mardi Gras floats.† But Curtis wadn’t havin none of that, an so he took out toward the stands yellin an cussin an givin everbody the finger. Good ole Curtis. Well, it was a interestin afternoon. By fourth quarter we was ahead 28 to 22, an I iced the game by makin a forty-yard catch that was thowed by the second-string quarterback who had come in for Snake, who was on the sidelines gettin his leg stitched up after a Giant bit a chunk out of it. All during the last part of the game the fans be chantin, â€Å"Gump! Gump! Gump!† an when it was over, about a hundrit photographers an newspaper reporters come up an mobbed me on the field, wantin to know who I was. After that, my life done definitely changed. For that first game against the Giants, the Saints people gave me a check for ten thousan dollars. Next week, we done played the Chicago Bears, an I caught three more touchdown passes. The Saints people figgered out a way to pay me, they says, on â€Å"an incentive basis,† which was that they would give me one thousan dollars for ever pass I catch, an a ten-thousan-dollar bonus for each touchdown I score. Well, after four more games I got nearly sixty thousan dollars in the bank an we is now 6 an 8 an movin up in the conference standins. The week before the next game, which is against the Detroit Lions, I sent Jenny Curran a check for thirty thousan dollars for little Forrest. After we whup the Detroit Lions an then the Redskins, Colts, Patriots, 49ers, an Jets, in that order, I done sent her another thirty thousan dollars, an I am figgerin that by the playoffs I will be on easy street for sure. But it was not that way at all. We done won the conference championship for our division an next have got to play the Dallas Cowboys on their home turf. Everthin is lookin up pretty good. Our men are all very confident an be slappin each other on they asses with towels in the locker room. Ole Snake, he even stopped drinkin, and was in the prime of health. One day one of the fellers come up to me an says, â€Å"Look here, Gump, you need to get yourself an agent.† â€Å"A what?† I ast. â€Å"Agent, you dummy. Somebody to represent you and get you all the money you ever wanted. You ain’t gettin paid enough around here. None of us are. But at least we got agents to deal with them bastids up at the organization. Why, you ought to be makin three times as much as you are now.† So I took his advice an got me an agent. Mister Butterfield was his name. First thing Mister Butterfield does is go an start an argument with the people at the Saints organization. Pretty soon I get called in an everbody is mad at me. â€Å"Gump,† they says, â€Å"you has already signed a contract for one thousand dollars a pass and ten thousand dollars a touchdown for this season. Now you want to go back on it. What the hell is this!† â€Å"I dunno,† I said. â€Å"I just got this agent to†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Butterfield! Agent my ass! That man is a crook. Don’t you know that?† When I said I didn’t, they tole me that Mister Butterfield had threatened to hold me out of the playoff game if they didn’t give me triple what they were now. â€Å"Let me tell you this, Gump,† the owner says, â€Å"if you miss just one game because of this ridiculous attempt at highway robbery, I will not only kick you off the team personally, but I will see to it you don’t never get another job playing football anyplace – at least for money. You understand that?† I said I did an went on out to practice. That week I finally quit my job sweepin up at Wanda’s strip joint. The hours was kind of gettin to me. Wanda said she understood, an anyway, she said she was gonna fire me anyhow account of it wadn’t â€Å"dignified† for me to be playin football for the Saints an be her janitor at the same time. Besides, she said, â€Å"Them people ain’t comin in here to look at me anymore, they is comin to look at you, you big oaf!† Well, the day before we was fixin to leave for the Dallas game, I gone to the post office an there is a letter there from Mobile, Alabama. It is from Jenny’s mama. Now, I always get kind of excited when I hear from Jenny or anybody even connected with her, but this time, I dunno, somethin felt kind of funny. Inside the envelope was another letter, not even opened. It was the one I had sent Jenny with the last check for thirty thousan dollars. I begun to read what Mrs. Curran was tryin to tell me, but even before I finished, I wished I was dead. â€Å"Dear Forrest,† she said. â€Å"I don’t know how to tell you this. But Jenny got very sick about a month ago, and her husband, Donald, did, too. He died last week. And the next day, Jenny did, too.† There was a bunch of other stuff she said, also, but I don’t remember much of it. I kept lookin at them first lines, an my hands started tremblin an my heart begun to beat so hard I thought I was gonna faint. It was not true! It couldn’t be. Not Jenny. I mean, I had knowed her all these years, ever since we was in grade school, an I had loved her too – only person besides my mama I’d ever really loved. An I just stood there while big ole tears run down onto the letter an blot out the ink except for the last few lines, which said, â€Å"I have little Forrest here with me, and he can stay as long as I can care for him, but I’m not too well myself, Forrest, and if you can find the time between your football games to come and see us, I think we’d better have a talk.† Well, I ain’t sure exactly what I done next, but somehow I got back home an thowed some stuff in a bag an caught the bus to Mobile that afternoon. It was the longest bus drive of my life, I think. I just kept goin back over all them years with Jenny an me. How she always helped me out of trouble in school – even after I accidentally tore off her dress in the movie theater – an in college when she sang with the folk music band an I screwed up by haulin the banjo player out of the car while they was makin out, an then up in Boston when she was singin with The Cracked Eggs an I went to Harvard University an got in the Shakespeare play – an even after that, when she was up in Indianapolis workin for the retread tire company an I became a rassler an she had to tell me what a fool I was makin of mysef†¦. It just can’t be true, I kept thinkin, over an over again, but thinkin don’t make it so. I knew that deep down. I knew it was true. When I got to Mrs. Curran’s house, it was nearly nine o’clock at night. â€Å"Oh, Forrest,† she says, an thowed her arms around me an begun to cry, an I couldn’t help it an begun cryin, too. In a little while, we went inside an she made me some milk an cookies an tried to tell me about it. â€Å"Nobody knows exactly what it was,† she said. â€Å"They both got sick about the same time. It was very fast and they just kind of slipped away. She wasn’t in any pain or anything. In fact, she was more beautiful than ever. Just laid in the bed, like I remember her as a little girl. Her very own bed. Her hair all long and pretty, and her face was just like it always was, like an angel. And then, that morning, she†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Mrs. Curran had to stop for a while. She wadn’t cryin anymore. She just looked out the winder at the streetlight. â€Å"And when I went in to see her, she was gone. Lying there with her head on the pillow, almost like she was sleeping. Little Forrest was playing out on the porch, and, well, I wasn’t sure what to do, but I told him to come in an kiss his mama. And he did. He didn’t know. I didn’t let him stay that long. We buried her the next day. Out to the Magnolia Cemetery in the family plot, alongside her daddy and her granny. Under a sugar maple tree. Little Forrest, I don’t know how much he understands about it all. He don’t know about his daddy. He died up in Savannah, with his folks. He knows his mama’s gone, but I don’t think he really understands about it.† â€Å"Can I see it?† â€Å"What?† Mrs. Curran ast. â€Å"Where she was. Where she was when†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Oh, yes, Forrest. It’s right in here. Little Forrest is sleeping in there now. I’ve only got two†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"I don’t want to wake him up,† I says. â€Å"Why don’t you,† says Mrs. Curran. â€Å"It’ll make him feel better, maybe.† An so I gone into Jenny’s bedroom. There was little Forrest asleep in her bed, didn’t know nothin really about what was happenin to him. Had a teddy bear he was huggin an a big blond curl across his forehead. Mrs. Curran started to wake him up, but I ast her not to. I could almost see Jenny there, peaceful an asleep. Almost. â€Å"Maybe he ought to just rest tonight,† I says. â€Å"They’ll be time in the mornin for him to see me.† â€Å"All right, Forrest,† she says. Then she turned away. I touched his face an he turned over an give a little sigh. â€Å"Oh, Forrest,† Mrs. Curran says, â€Å"I don’t believe all this. So quick. And they all seemed so happy. Things sure do turn out bad sometime, don’t they?† â€Å"Yes’m,† I says. â€Å"They shore do.† We went on out of the room. â€Å"Well, Forrest, I know you’re tired. We’ve got a sofa here in the living room. I can make you a bed.† â€Å"You know, Mrs. Curran, maybe I could sleep on that swing out on the porch. I always liked that swing, you know. Jenny an I used to sit on it an†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Of course, Forrest. I’ll get you a pillow and some blankets.† So that’s what I did. An all that night the wind blew, an sometime afore dawn, it begun to rain. It wadn’t cold or nothin. Just a regular ole fall night for around here where I grew up. An I don’t think I slept much neither. I was thinkin about Jenny an little Forrest an about my life, which, come to think of it, hadn’t been much. I have done a lot of things, but I ain’t done many of them very well. Also, I’m always gettin into trouble just about the time things start goin good. Which, I suppose, is the penalty you pay for bein a idiot. How to cite Gump and Co. Chapter 1, Essay examples

Friday, December 6, 2019

Rattle Bone Essay Example For Students

Rattle Bone Essay Pieces of a Novel PuzzleA novel or a collection of short stories?; may be a question that a critic asks about Rattlebone. Maxine Clair portrays both arguments with her energetic writing style. A blend of random comments and many unique phrases intermix with the intense plot. Writing like this gives the reader a more relaxed state and the book seems more alive and real. In answer to the critique question, Maxine Clair is writing a novel because of an abundant supply of foreshadowing, a collection of narrators, a recurrence of characters, and a process commonly known to man as aging. Suggesting that Rattlebone is in fact a novel, foreshadowing occurred in several places during the book. Clair uses this writing method by mentioning the name October Brown, partly because Brown is involved at the beginning and towards the end of the book. Ms. Brown became an important part of Irenes life, not only by being one of the main reasons for her parents divorce, but also by helping Irene accomplish one of her goals. The time that occurred between these two events in the book connects Rattlebone and is a very good use of foreshadowing. Another example of Clairs use of this writing method is the experience of the divorce between Irenes parents. This long-term process displayed Irenes parents as being unforgiving. At first his wife forgives James Wilson for the affair that he enjoyed with October Brown, but after a period of time, Pearl also had her share of the fall in their relationship. At this time, neither one of Irenes parents would forgive the other nor make up with the other. This example again shows the use of foreshadowing by Clair by evolving the event over several chapters with different narrators. Irene, the narrator in several different stages of the divorce between her parents, speaks her feelings of disgust and always tries to keep her parents relationship together. Another side of the story comes from October Browns landlord, Mrs. Pemberton. Mrs. Pemberton wants nothing to do with the affair and therefor tries to separate the two lovers. Irene takes the stage again and reveals to the reader subconsciously, that her father is the man having the affair. The use of two narrators, each having a different look at the situation, may seem confusing to the reader at first, but once the chapters are all read and the whole story gets across, it becomes apparent why the change in narration was necessary. Having different characters narrate is uncommon in a novel, but by having the characters reoccur in a book is not. There is a set limit of characters in Rattlebone; Clair just reveals some at key points throughout the story. An example of this is during October Browns stay with the Pembertons, in which Irene is not even mentioned; yet in the next chapter she is narrating. October Brown then returns to the book during the end when Irene is applying for scholarship. Wanda is another character that comes and goes, and yet still has a strong impact on the story. She is first a good friend of Irenes, and later she returns to the pages in the book as the neighbor to Mr. Pemberton, who eventually has a relationship with him. Perhaps the most outstanding reason to claim that Rattlebone is a novel instead of a collection of short stories is the fact of aging amongst the characters. By the characters aging, Clairs writing takes one form and one time frame. The recurrence of these characters di splays a sense of a time gap. Another instance in which a time change is shown is with the relationships of Irene. In her early days of relationships with boys, Irene was afraid to try any sexual acts of any kind. But, oddly enough, after witnessing a sexual scene of her mother and a man different from her father, Irene tended to want to rebel more. Over time, Irene taught herself to waste her time and she soon found a boyfriend, which lead to sexual acts. This boyfriend of Irenes is also a good way to show the aging process involved in Rattlebone. These two characters experience many things in their relationship and over time the people of the town, including Irenes mother, heard of the relationship and all disapproved. The point to notice here is that a town would not find out about a high school relationship that quickly, especially since Irene was hiding the relationship as a whole. Another great way to notice the time difference is to watch Irenes attendance at various schools. At first, October Brown is her schoolteacher and towards the end of the book, Irene is applying to receive a scholarship to attend college and become a member of a sorority. Finally another example of this occurs as Wanda and Mr. Pemberton begin a relationship. Wanda, an old friend of Irenes has grown up, and now her neighbor takes quite a liking to her. Growing up takes more than a minute or two, so this example acknowledges the aging process in this book. .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8 , .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8 .postImageUrl , .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8 .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8 , .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8:hover , .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8:visited , .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8:active { border:0!important; } .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8 .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8 { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8:active , .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8 .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8 .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8 .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8 .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8 .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8 .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .u9167cdfab4014961459f73f7190231a8:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: Deforestation EssayAs all of these collections are compiled, one story stands tall. The life of the citizens of Rattlebone as a whole became eminent. The foreshadowing is apart of any novel, and does not escape from Clairs writing. It enables the novel to be one story, not a collection of several stories. Sure, there is definitely a collection of short stories in Rattlebone, but they all connect together like a jigsaw puzzle to be completed. Without all of the pieces, this novel would not be complete. The change in narration is a unique quality to Maxine Clairs work. This writing method gives a different perspective than just Irenes account. Recurring characters play a str ong part in Rattlebone being a novel as well. If different characters are in use in every chapter, than there is not a strong enough link between all of them and they do not fit into the puzzle. Since the characters appear in more than one chapter, the chapters fit together nicely. Finally, Rattlebone is a novel because of how the characters aged throughout the novel. If the characters do not age throughout a book, then it is safe to assume that the book is a compilation of short stories. But this is not the case in Rattlebone. The characters do experience age, experience change, and experience life together. Maxine Clair wrote this novel, Rattlebone to let a reader enjoy the life of this small town without knowing the future. She reveals just a piece of it at a time, and until that last piece makes it into the puzzle, no one can decipher it. Rattlebone is definitely a novel, exhibiting all the qualities, not of a compilation of short stories, but of a novel.