DIAMETER OF A BOMB

By: Yehuda Amichai

Yehuda Amichai, (born May 3, 1924, Würzburg, Germany—died September 22, 2000,

Jerusalem, Israel), Israeli writer who is best known for his poetry.

Amichai and his Orthodox Jewish family immigrated to Palestine in 1936. During World War

II he served in the British army, but he later fought the British as a guerrilla prior to the

formation of Israel; he also was involved in the Arab-Israeli conflicts of 1956 and 1973.

Amichai attended the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and taught for several years at

secondary schools.

The poem “The Diameter of the Bomb” written by Yehuda Amichai is a commentary on the

extensive sorrow that war causes. War is channeled down to one of its destructive elements in

this poem - a "bomb." The big topic or grand theme of War is brought to light by examining

closely what one of the implements or tools of war can do.

Therefore, Yehuda Amichai ponders a mechanical object, a bomb, and how it touches

individual lives and society as a whole. He begins by giving the reader the bomb’s diameter

and the “diameter of its effective range.” This is a matter-of-fact almost reportorial

description of the bomb. This description is akin to a student learning about the

characteristics of a bomb in an engineering class or something like that. This description is

void of emotion or preaching.

However, the power of this poem is not in the physical description of the actual bomb. The

poem’s power is in how the poet describes the lives affected by the horrific force of the

bomb.
He talks of hospitals, a graveyard, a dead woman, and one who is mourning the death of the

women. Many lives are touched by this bomb and the havoc and pain it has wreaked on the

earth.

In addition, the poem talks of orphans. Children are left fatherless and motherless due to war.

This travesty can make one ask where God is in times like this. The poet talks of God’s

throne and also what he perceives as no answers from God. Nonetheless, it is man who is

responsible for his own terrible actions against man.

Marxist literary criticism is a loose term describing literary criticism based on socialist and

dialectic theories. Marxist criticism views literary works as reflections of the social

institutions from which they originate. Most Marxist critics who were writing in what could

chronologically be specified as the early period of Marxist literary criticism subscribed to

what has come to be called "Vulgar Marxism." In this thinking of the structure of societies,

literary texts are one register of the Superstructure, which is determined by the economic

Base of any given society. Therefore, literary texts are a reflection of the economic Base

rather than "the social institutions from which they originate" for all social institutions, or,

more precisely human social relationships, are in the final analysis determined by the

economic Base. According to Marxists, even literature itself is a social institution and has a

specific ideological function, based on the background and ideology of the author. The

English literary critic and cultural theorist Terry Eagleton defines Marxist criticism this way.

CRITICAL ANALYSIS:

Is a poem that explores the impact of war by observing the ever-growing effect death
has humanity. The poem begins clinically as Amichai recites the characteristics of the bomb
as being mechanical and deprived of emotion, seen in the lines “the diameter of the bomb
was thirty centimeters/ and the diameter of its effective range about seven meters/ with four
dead and eleven wounded.”

The bomb is represented as holding limited capacity for damage, and therefore
ineffective, as the fatalities that result are fairly insignificant when compared to the total
fatalities in a war.

The harsh, technical facts however, are suddenly replaced by descriptions of the raw,
emotional loss of a man and the cries of orphans that result from the explosion “and the
solitary man mourning her death the crying of orphans”.

These representations of the effect the death has on the loved ones evoke strong
feelings of sympathy within the reader. Amichai’s casual, detached tone, seen in
Through the symbolism of the circle and the use of lines such as “at a distance of more than a
hundred kilometers”, the representation of the extensive impact of the bomb is revealed.

The descriptions of the bomb’s vastness creates simplistic, yet effective imagery of a
circle that continues to expand, eventually consuming the entire world and beyond to the
“throne of God”. By implying that the result of war is so large and devastating, the reader is
encouraged to consider if war is really worth such pain and loss.

Eventually, Amichai concludes that the impact of the bomb is so large that the “circle
with no end and no God.” Here, the representation of the impact of the bomb is so vast that
he questions the existence of God in a world where such terrorism exists.

The dispassionate view of the physical aspects of the bomb is jarringly contrasted
with the deeply emotional and spiritual effects on the world. This juxtaposition of views
highlights Amichai’s mission to reveal the futility of war.
 TAXI MAN'S STORY

By: Catherine Lim

Catherine Lim Poh Imm (Chinese: 林宝音; pinyin: Lín Bǎoyīn, born 21 March 1942) is a
Singaporean fiction author known for writing about Singapore society and of themes of
traditional Chinese culture. Hailed as the "doyenne of Singapore writers",[1] Lim has
published nine collections of short stories, five novels, two poetry collections, and numerous
political commentaries to date.[2] Her social commentary in 1994, titled The PAP and the
people - A Great Affective Divide[3][4] and published in The Straits Times criticised the
ruling political party's agendas.

LITERARY TEXT:

Very good,Madam.Sure,will take you there in plenty good time for your
meeting,Madam.This way better,less traffic,less car jams.Half hour should make it,Madam,so
not to worry.

What is it you say,Madam?Yes,yes,ha,ha,been taximan for twenty years now,Madam.Long

time ago,Singapore not like this–so crowded so busy.Last time more peaceful,not so much
taximen,or so much cars and buses.

Yes,Madam,can make a living.So so.What to do.Must work hard if wants to success in

Singapore.People like us,no education,no capital for business,we must sweat to earn money
for wife and children.

Yes.Madam,quite big family–eight children,six sons,two daughters.Big family!Ha!ha!No

good,Madam.In those days,where got Family Planning in Singapore?People born many,many
children,every year,one childs.Is no good at all.Today is much better.Two children,three
children,enough,stop.Our goverment say stop.

Lucky for me,all my children big now.Four of my sons working–one a businessman,two

clerks,one a teacher in Primary school,one in National Service,one still schooling,in
Secondary Two.My eldest daughter,she is twenty plus,stay at home,help the mother.No,not
married yet–very shy,and her health not so good,but a good,obedient girl.My other girl–
Oh,Madam!very hard for father when daughter is no good and go against her parents.Very
sad,like punishment from God Today,young people not like us when we are young.We
obey.Our parents say don’t do this,we never do.Otherwise,the cane.My father cane me,I was
big enough to be married,and still,got caning.My father he was very strict,and that is good
thing for parents to be strict.If not,young boys and girls become very useless.Do not want to
study,but run away,and go to night clubsand take drugs and make love.You agreewith
me.Madam?Today,young people they are very trouble to their parents.Madam,you see this
young people over there,outside the coffee-house?See what I mean,Madam?They are only
schoolboys and schoolgirls,but they act like big shots,spending money,smoking,waering
latest fashion,and making love.Ah Madam,I know,I know!As taximan,I know them and their
habits.Madam,you are a teacher,you say?You know or not that young
schoolgirls,fifteen,sixteen years old,they go to school in the morning in their uniforms and
then after school,they don’t go home,they have clothes in their schoolbag,and they go to
public lavatory or hotel and change into these clothes,and they put make-up on their
face.Their parents never know.They tell their Mum got school meeting,got sports and
games,this,that,but they really come out and play the fool.Ah,Madam,I see yuo surprise,but I
know,I know all their tricks.I take them about in my taxi.They usual is wait in bowling alley
or coffee house or hotel,and they walk up,and friend,friend,the European and American
tourists,and this is how they make fun and also extra money.Madam,you believe or not when
I tell you how much money they got?I say!Last night,Madam,this young girl,very pretty and
made-up,and wear sexy dress,she told me take her to Orchid Mansions–this place
famous,Madam,fourth floor flat–and she open her purse to pay me,and I say!all American
notes–ten dollar notes all,and she pull one out and say keep change!as she has no time
already.Madam,I tell you this,every month,I got more money from these young girls and their
American and European boyfriends in my taxi,more than I get from other people who
bargain and say don’t want go by meter and wait even for ten cents change.Phui!!Some of
them really make me mad.But these young girls and their boyfriends don’t bargain,they just
pay,pay,and they make love in taxi so much they don’t know if you go round and round and
charge them by meter!I tell you,Madam,some of them don’t care how much they spend on
taxi.It is like this:after 1p.m. taxi fare double,and I prefer working this time,because
naturally,much more money.I go and wait outside Elroy Hotel or Tung Court or Orchid
Mansions,and such enough,Madam,will have plenty business.Last Saturday,Madam,no
joking,on one day alone I make nearly one hundred and fifty dollars!Some of it for
services.Some of tourists don’t know where,so I tell them and take them there,and that’s extra
money.Ah Madam,if I tell you all,no end to the story.But I will tell you this,Madam.If you
have young daughter and she say Mummy I got meeting today in school and will not come
home,you must not say,Yes,yes,but you must go and ask her where and why and who,and
you find out.Today young people not to trust,like young people in many years
ago.Oh,Madam,I tell you because I myself have a daughter–oh,Madam,a daughter I love very
much,and she is so good and study hard.And I see her report cards and her teacher
write’Good work’and ‘Excellent’so on,so on.Oh,Madam,she my favourite child,and I ask her
what she want to be after left school,and she says go to University.None of my other children
could go to University,but this one,she is very smart and intelligent–no boasting,Madam–her
teachers write ‘Good’and ‘Excellent’,and so on,so on,in her report cards.She study at
home,and help the mother,but sometimes a little lazy,and she say teacher want her to go back
to school to do extra work,extra coaching,in her weak subject,which is maths,Madam.So I let
her stay back in school and day after day she come home in evening,then she do her studies
and go to sleep.Then one day,oh Madam,it make me so angry even now–one day,I in my taxi
driving,driving along and hey!I see a girl looking like my Lay Choo,with other girls and
some Europeans outside a coffee-house but I think,it cannot be Lay Choo,how can,Lay Choo
is in school,and this girl is all dressed up and make-up,and very bold in her behaviour,and
this is not like my daughter at all.Then they go inside the coffee-house,and my heart is
very,very–how you describe it,Madam,My heart is very ‘susah hati’and I say to myself,I will
watch that Lay Choo and see her monkey tricks.The very next day she is there again I stop
my taxi,Madam,and I am so angry.I rush up to this wicked daughter and I catch her by the
shoulders and neck,and slap her and she scream,but I don’t care.Then I drag her to my taxi
and drive all the way home,and at home I thrash the stupid food and I beat her and slap her
till like hell.My wife and some neighbours they pull me away,and I think if they not pull me
away,I sure to kill that girl.I lock her up in her room for three days,and I ashamed to tell her
teacher,so I just tell the teacher that Lay Choo is sick,so please to excuse her.Oh,Madam,how
you feel in my place?Make herself so cheap,when her father drive taxi all day to save money
for her University.What is it,Madam?Yes,yes,everything okay now,thank you.She cannot
leave the house except to go to school,and I tell her mother always check,check in everything
she do,and her friends–what sort of people they are…What,Madam?Oh,so
sorry,Madam,cannot wait for you to finish your meeting.Must go off,please to excuse me.In a
hurry,Madam.Must go off to Hotel Elroy–there plenty people to pick up.So very
sorry,Madam,and thank you very much.

Marxist literary criticism is a loose term describing literary criticism based on socialist and
dialectic theories. Marxist criticism views literary works as reflections of the social
institutions from which they originate. Most Marxist critics who were writing in what could
chronologically be specified as the early period of Marxist literary criticism subscribed to
what has come to be called "Vulgar Marxism." In this thinking of the structure of societies,
literary texts are one register of the Superstructure, which is determined by the economic
Base of any given society. Therefore, literary texts are a reflection of the economic Base
rather than "the social institutions from which they originate" for all social institutions, or,
more precisely human social relationships, are in the final analysis determined by the
economic Base. According to Marxists, even literature itself is a social institution and has a
specific ideological function, based on the background and ideology of the author. The
English literary critic and cultural theorist Terry Eagleton defines Marxist criticism this way.

CRITICAL ANALYSIS:

The main character in the "The Taximan's Story" by Catherin Lim is the taxi cab driver. He was a
born Singaporean who has been residing there since birth and been a taxi cab driver for almost twenty
years. He's one of your typical taxi cab drivers who has many things to discuss. In the story he spoke
things about Singapore from his time to present time, he said Singapore used to be simple and
peaceful, not nearly as crowded with cars and buses and many changes took place, but the main
element that rises in the story is about prostitution, which focuses on teenage prostitution, he has seen
teenage girl doing this, he has become an instrument for the prostitutes to bring them to the place
where they sell their bodies.
From time to time he learned how teenage girls fool their parents, telling lie to their parents
using school activities as alibi, after school they go to cheap motels and change their clothes, then
going to mall and coffee shop where they meet Europeans and foreigners, not knowing that in the end
her daughter was one of them, and he has been a victim of prostitution, her daughter Lay Choo was a
secondary character in the story, in the she was the daughter of the taximen, as described, she was the
youngest in the story, and his favorite among his eight children because she was able to study in a
University and a scholar, she was one of the school girls that turned to be a prostitute which made an

irony in the story that leads to a conflict and commotion, that Lay Choo was beaten up by his father
the taximen and was only allowed to go out with her mother.
In the story, it is the taxi men who is dominates the story, he is the main character and the one

who narrates his story, his story is all about teenage prostitutes which later in the story, he founds out
that her daughter was one of the girls who did monkey tricks.
 AMERICAN GUEST COME TO OUR HOUSE
By: Aziz Nesin

Aziz Nesin was born on January 2, 1916 in Heybeliada, an island close to Istanbul in
the Marmara Sea. The son of an imam and a housewife, Nesin graduated from military school
and military academy. During his career in the armed forces, Aziz Nesin served as in various
cities in Anatolia. In 1944, he was condemned to a 10-month sentence because he granted a
private permission to leave, and following this event he resigned from the armed forces. He
returned to Istanbul and started running a grocery shop; but also took up writing and editing
for the newspapers Karagöz and Yedigün. Following this experience, Aziz Nesin discovered
the joy of writing; relying on his earthy sense of humor and his instinctive humanism, he
published pieces in various periodicals and newspapers. In 1946, he started publishing the
humor magazine entitled Markopaşa. However, in order to prevent lawsuits and to maintain a
sense of continuity, he frequently had to change the name of the publication. Nesin started
writing books as well, each of which caused him to be investigated, arrested or sent to exile.

LITERARY TEXT

The story “American Guest Come to Our House” generally talks about Muzaffer who
invited some Americans to visit their house for some time. As the story goes on he keeps on
bragging that they will be having foreign guests, and even in simple conversations he tries to
alter the topic into the arrival of the guests in their house. And yes, he successfully done it
and because of that another versions of that storycame out talking on what is really the
purpose of spreading the news. When the guests are about to arrive, they realized that their
house is not presentable to the visitors, and even he and his wife who does not fight for
twenty-two years almost end up in a divorce. Friday, the date when the guests should arrive
and the family members strive to improve their house. Yet a message came telling them that
the guests aren’t coming, instead they will arrive next Saturday. Then, another “decorating”
week passed and again, the same thing happened.

A message came telling that the guests have some problems, so they will arrive on the
next Saturday. Because of that incident Muzaffer suspected that his enemy tells something to
their guest that they do not arrive. Even so, he still continued on developing their home for
the guests’ convenience. Finally the arrival of the Americans came, luckily by this time he
had borrowed some furniture and appliances from their neighbors yet with some exemption.

They entertained their guest as planned until things became horrible; the refrigerator
he borrowed came late, the guest now know that all of the furniture and appliances where
only borrowed from their neighbor, their house became crowded (because of his family plus
the guests), the girls in his family wore dresses as if it’s a wedding, his daughter and mother-
in-law performed their tradition ( where he became ashamed of & the guests do not know
about it at all), he broke some appliance while trying to start them, and his boy peed on the
carpet that he borrowed and cried in front of the visitors---what a disaster. In the end he
managed to survive the visit; and now he is paying the debts caused by that event, poor
Muzaffer.

Marxist literary criticism is a loose term describing literary criticism based on socialist and
dialectic theories. Marxist criticism views literary works as reflections of the social
institutions from which they originate. Most Marxist critics who were writing in what could
chronologically be specified as the early period of Marxist literary criticism subscribed to
what has come to be called "Vulgar Marxism." In this thinking of the structure of societies,
literary texts are one register of the Superstructure, which is determined by the economic
Base of any given society. Therefore, literary texts are a reflection of the economic Base
rather than "the social institutions from which they originate" for all social institutions, or,
more precisely human social relationships, are in the final analysis determined by the
economic Base. According to Marxists, even literature itself is a social institution and has a
specific ideological function, based on the background and ideology of the author. The
English literary critic and cultural theorist Terry Eagleton defines Marxist criticism this way.

CRITICAL ANALYSIS:
 THE MIRROR

By: Haruki Murakami

Haruki Murakami was born in Kyoto, Japan, in 1949. He grew up in Kobe and then moved to
Tokyo, where he attended Waseda University. After college, Murakami opened a small jazz
bar, which he and his wife ran for seven years.

His first novel, Hear the Wind Sing, won the Gunzou Literature Prize for budding writers in
1979. He followed this success with two sequels, Pinball, 1973 and A Wild Sheep Chase,
which all together form "The Trilogy of the Rat."

LITERARY TEXT

From Haruki Murakami‘s acceptance of the Jerusalem Prize for the Freedom of the
Individual in Society .

“Please do allow me to deliver one very personal message. It is something that I always keep
in mind while I am writing fiction. I have never gone so far as to write it on a piece of paper
and paste it to the wall: rather, it is carved into the wall of my mind, and it goes something
like this:

“Between a high, solid wall and an egg that breaks against it, I will always stand on the side
of the egg.”

Yes, no matter how right the wall may be and how wrong the egg, I will stand with the egg.
Someone else will have to decide what is right and what is wrong; perhaps time or history
will decide. If there were a novelist who, for whatever reason, wrote works standing with the
wall, of what value would such works be?

What is the meaning of this metaphor? In some cases, it is all too simple and clear. Bombers
and tanks and rockets and white phosphorus shells are that high, solid wall. The eggs are the
unarmed civilians who are crushed and burned and shot by them.
This is not all, though. It carries a deeper meaning. Think of it this way. Each of us is, more
or less, an egg. Each of us is a unique, irreplaceable soul enclosed in a fragile shell. This is
true of me, and it is true of each of you. And each of us, to a greater or lesser degree, is
confronting a high, solid wall. The wall has a name: it is “the System.” The System is
supposed to protect us, but sometimes it takes on a life of its own, and then it begins to kill us
and cause us to kill others — coldly, efficiently, systematically.

I have only one reason to write novels, and that is to bring the dignity of the individual soul to
the surface and shine a light upon it. The purpose of a story is to sound an alarm, to keep a
light trained on the System in order to prevent it from tangling our souls in its web and
demeaning them. I fully believe it is the novelist’s job to keep trying to clarify the uniqueness
of each individual soul by writing stories — stories of life and death, stories of love, stories
that make people cry and quake with fear and shake with laughter. This is why we go on, day
after day, concocting fictions with utter seriousness.

My father died last year at the age of 90. He was a retired teacher and a part-time Buddhist
priest. When he was in graduate school, he was drafted into the army and sent to fight in
China. As a child born after the war, I used to see him every morning before breakfast
offering up long, deeply felt prayers at the Buddhist altar in our house. One time I asked him
why he did this, and he told me he was praying for the people who had died in the battlefield.
He was praying for all the people who died, he said, both ally and enemy alike. Staring at his
back as he knelt at the altar, I seemed to feel the shadow of death hovering around him.

My father died, and with him he took his memories, memories that I can never know. But the
presence of death that lurked about him remains in my own memory. It is one of the few
things I carry on from him, and one of the most important.

I have only one thing I hope to convey to you today. We are all human beings, individuals
transcending nationality and race and religion, fragile eggs faced with a solid wall called the
System. To all appearances, we have no hope of winning. The wall is too high, too strong —
and too cold. If we have any hope of victory at all, it will have to come from our believing in
the utter uniqueness and irreplaceability of our own and others’ souls and from the warmth
we gain by joining souls together.

Take a moment to think about this. Each of us possesses a tangible, living soul. The System
has no such thing. We must not allow the System to exploit us. We must not allow the
System to take on a life of its own. The System did not make us: We made the System. That
is all I have to say to you.”

Marxist literary criticism is a loose term describing literary criticism based on socialist and
dialectic theories. Marxist criticism views literary works as reflections of the social
institutions from which they originate. Most Marxist critics who were writing in what could
chronologically be specified as the early period of Marxist literary criticism subscribed to
what has come to be called "Vulgar Marxism." In this thinking of the structure of societies,
literary texts are one register of the Superstructure, which is determined by the economic
Base of any given society. Therefore, literary texts are a reflection of the economic Base
rather than "the social institutions from which they originate" for all social institutions, or,
more precisely human social relationships, are in the final analysis determined by the
economic Base. According to Marxists, even literature itself is a social institution and has a
specific ideological function, based on the background and ideology of the author. The
English literary critic and cultural theorist Terry Eagleton defines Marxist criticism this way.

CRITICAL ANALYSIS:

In this short but beloved poem, the narrator is a wall mirror in what is likely a woman's
bedroom. The mirror is personified - that is, it is endowed with human traits. It is able to
recognize monotony, commenting on the regularity of the wall that it reflects most of the
time. Further, while it does not offer moral judgment, it is able to observe and understand its
owner (the woman) as she grapples with the reality of aging.

Compared to most of the others in Plath's oeuvre, this poem is not particularly difficult to
analyze. Though the speaker is a mirror, the subjects are time and appearance. The woman
struggles with the loss of her beauty, admitting each day that she is growing older. Though
the woman occasionally deludes herself with the flattering "liars" candlelight and moonlight,
she continually returns to the mirror for the truth. The woman needs the mirror to provide her
with an objective, unadulterated reflection of self, even though it is often discomfiting,
causing her "tears and an agitation of hands." The mirror is well aware of how important it is
to the woman, which evokes the Greek myth of Narcissus, in which a young man grows so
transfixed with his own reflection that he dies.

Some critics have speculated that the woman is vexed by more than her changing physical
appearance. They posit that the woman is observing her mind, her soul, and her psyche,
stripped of any guile or obfuscation. By seeing her true self, she becomes aware of the
distinction between her exterior and interior lives. In other words, she might be meditating on
the distinction between a "false" outer self of appearance, and a "true" inner self. After Plath's
1963 suicide, many critics examined the writer's different facets, contrasting her put-together,
polite, and decorous outer self with her raging, explosively-creative inner self. Perhaps Plath
is exploring this dichotomy in "Mirror." The slippery and unnerving "fish" in the poem may
represent that unavoidable, darker self that cannot help but challenge the socially acceptable
self.
The critic Jo Gill writes of "Mirror" that even as the mirror straightforwardly describes itself
as "silver and exact," it feels compelled to immediately qualify itself. Gill writes, "as the
poem unfolds we see that this hermetic antonym may be a deceptive facade masking the need
for communion and dialogue." The mirror actually dominates and interprets its world, and
thus has a lot more power than it seems to suggest. It does not merely reflect what it sees, but
also shapes those images for our understanding. Gill notes that the poem is catoptric, meaning
that it describes while it represents its own structure; this is down through the use of two
nine-line stanzas which are both symmetrical, and indicative of opposition.

The second stanza is significant because it, as Gill explains, "exposes...the woman's need of
the mirror [and] the mirror's need of the woman." When the mirror has nothing but the wall to
stare at, the world is truthful, objective, factual, and "exact," but when the woman comes into
view, the world becomes messy, unsettling, complicated, emotional, and vivid. Thus, the
mirror is "no longer a boundary but a limninal and penetrable space." It reflects more than an
image - it reflects its own desires and understanding about the world.

Overall, "Mirror" is a melancholy and even bitter poem that exemplifies the tensions between
inner and outer selves, as well as indicates the preternaturally feminine "problem" of aging
and losing one's beauty.
 HARISSON BERGERON

By: Kurt Vonnegut

Kurt Vonnegut was born in Indianapolis, Indiana, on November 11, 1922. Vonnegut
emerged as a novelist and essayist in the 1960s, and penned the classics Cat's Cradle,
Slaughterhouse-Five and Breakfast of Champions before 1980. He is known for his satirical
literary style, as well as the science-fiction elements in much of his work. Vonnegut died in
New York City on April 11, 2007.By: Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

LITERARY TEXT

THE YEAR WAS 2081, and everybody was finally equal. They weren't only equal

before God and the law. They were equal every which way. Nobody was smarter

than anybody else. Nobody was better looking than anybody else. Nobody was

stronger or quicker than anybody else. All this equality was due to the

211th, 212th, and 213 th Amendments to the Constitution, and to the unceasing

vigilance of agents of the United States Handicapper General.

Some things about living still weren't quite right, though. April for

instance, still drove people crazy by not being springtime. And it was in

that clammy month that the H-G men took George and Hazel Bergeron's fourteen-

year-old son, Harrison, away.

It was tragic, all right, but George and Hazel couldn't think about it very

hard. Hazel had a perfectly average intelligence, which meant she couldn't

think about anything except in short bursts. And George, while his

intelligence was way above normal, had a little mental handicap radio in his

ear. He was required by law to wear it at all times. It was tuned to a

government transmitter. Every twenty seconds or so, the transmitter would

send out some sharp noise to keep people like George from taking unfair
advantage of their brains.

George and Hazel were watching television. There were tears on Hazel's

cheeks, but she'd forgotten for the moment what they were about.

On the television screen were ballerinas.

A buzzer sounded in George's head. His thoughts fled in panic, like bandits

from a burglar alarm.

"That was a real pretty dance, that dance they just did," said Hazel.

"Huh" said George.

"That dance-it was nice," said Hazel.

"Yup, " said George. He tried to think a little about the ballerinas. They

weren't really very good-no better than anybody else would have been, anyway.

They were burdened with sashweights and bags of birdshot, and their faces

were masked, so that no one, seeing a free and graceful gesture or a pretty

face, would feel like something the cat drug in. George was toying with the

vague notion that maybe dancers shouldn't be handicapped. But he didn't get

very far with it before another noise in his ear radio scattered his

thoughts .

George winced. So did two out of the eight ballerinas.

Hazel saw him wince. Having no mental handicap herself, she had to ask George

what the latest sound had been.

"Sounded like somebody hitting a milk bottle with a ball peen hammer, " said

George .

"I'd think it would be real interesting, hearing all the different sounds,"

said Hazel a little envious. "All the things they think up."

"Urn, " said George.

"Only, if I was Handicapper General, you know what I would do?" said Hazel.

Hazel, as a matter of fact, bore a strong resemblance to the Handicapper

General, a woman named Diana Moon Glampers. "If I was Diana Moon Glampers,"

said Hazel, "I'd have chimes on Sunday- just chimes. Kind of in honor of

religion . "

"I could think, if it was just chimes," said George.

"Well-maybe make 'em real loud," said Hazel. "I think I'd make a good

Handicapper General."

"Good as anybody else," said George.

"Who knows better then I do what normal is?" said Hazel.

"Right," said George. He began to think glimmeringly about his abnormal son

who was now in jail, about Harrison, but a twenty-one-gun salute in his head

stopped that.

"Boy!" said Hazel, "that was a doozy, wasn't it?"

It was such a doozy that George was white and trembling, and tears stood on

the rims of his red eyes. Two of of the eight ballerinas had collapsed to the

studio floor, were holding their temples.

"All of a sudden you look so tired," said Hazel. "Why don't you stretch out

on the sofa, so's you can rest your handicap bag on the pillows, honeybunch."

She was referring to the forty-seven pounds of birdshot in a canvas bag,

which was padlocked around George's neck. "Go on and rest the bag for a

little while," she said. "I don't care if you're not equal to me for a

while . "

George weighed the bag with his hands. "I don't mind it," he said. "I don't

notice it any more. It's just a part of me."

"You been so tired lately-kind of wore out," said Hazel. "If there was just

some way we could make a little hole in the bottom of the bag, and just take

out a few of them lead balls. Just a few."

"Two years in prison and two thousand dollars fine for every ball I took

out," said George. "I don't call that a bargain."

"If you could just take a few out when you came home from work," said Hazel.

"I mean-you don't compete with anybody around here. You just set around."

"If I tried to get away with it," said George, "then other people ' d get away

with it-and pretty soon we'd be right back to the dark ages again, with

everybody competing against everybody else. You wouldn't like that, would

you?"

"I'd hate it," said Hazel.

"There you are," said George. The minute people start cheating on laws, what

do you think happens to society?"

If Hazel hadn't been able to come up with an answer to this question, George

couldn't have supplied one. A siren was going off in his head.

"Reckon it'd fall all apart," said Hazel.

"What would?" said George blankly.

"Society," said Hazel uncertainly. "Wasn't that what you just said?

"Who knows?" said George.

The television program was suddenly interrupted for a news bulletin. It

wasn't clear at first as to what the bulletin was about, since the announcer,

like all announcers, had a serious speech impediment. For about half a

minute, and in a state of high excitement, the announcer tried to say,

"Ladies and Gentlemen."

He finally gave up, handed the bulletin to a ballerina to read.

"That's all right-" Hazel said of the announcer, "he tried. That's the big

thing. He tried to do the best he could with what God gave him. He should get

a nice raise for trying so hard."

"Ladies and Gentlemen," said the ballerina, reading the bulletin. She must

have been extraordinarily beautiful, because the mask she wore was hideous.

And it was easy to see that she was the strongest and most graceful of all

the dancers, for her handicap bags were as big as those worn by two-hundred

pound men.

And she had to apologize at once for her voice, which was a very unfair voice

for a woman to use. Her voice was a warm, luminous, timeless melody. "Excuse

me-" she said, and she began again, making her voice absolutely

uncompetitive .

"Harrison Bergeron, age fourteen," she said in a grackle squawk, "has just

escaped from jail, where he was held on suspicion of plotting to overthrow

the government. He is a genius and an athlete, is under-handicapped, and

should be regarded as extremely dangerous."

A police photograph of Harrison Bergeron was flashed on the screen-upside

down, then sideways, upside down again, then right side up. The picture

showed the full length of Harrison against a background calibrated in feet

and inches. He was exactly seven feet tall.

The rest of Harrison's appearance was Halloween and hardware. Nobody had ever

born heavier handicaps. He had outgrown hindrances faster than the H-G men

could think them up. Instead of a little ear radio for a mental handicap, he

wore a tremendous pair of earphones, and spectacles with thick wavy lenses.

The spectacles were intended to make him not only half blind, but to give him

whanging headaches besides.

Scrap metal was hung all over him. Ordinarily, there was a certain symmetry,

a military neatness to the handicaps issued to strong people, but Harrison

looked like a walking junkyard. In the race of life, Harrison carried three

hundred pounds .

And to offset his good looks, the H-G men required that he wear at all times

a red rubber ball for a nose, keep his eyebrows shaved off, and cover his

even white teeth with black caps at snaggle-tooth random.

"If you see this boy, " said the ballerina, "do not - I repeat, do not - try

to reason with him."

There was the shriek of a door being torn from its hinges.

Screams and barking cries of consternation came from the television set. The

photograph of Harrison Bergeron on the screen jumped again and again, as

though dancing to the tune of an earthquake.

George Bergeron correctly identified the earthquake, and well he might have -

for many was the time his own home had danced to the same crashing tune. "My

God-" said George, "that must be Harrison!"

The realization was blasted from his mind instantly by the sound of an

automobile collision in his head.

When George could open his eyes again, the photograph of Harrison was gone. A

living, breathing Harrison filled the screen.

Clanking, clownish, and huge, Harrison stood - in the center of the studio.

The knob of the uprooted studio door was still in his hand. Ballerinas,

technicians, musicians, and announcers cowered on their knees before him,

expecting to die.

"I am the Emperor!" cried Harrison. "Do you hear? I am the Emperor! Everybody

must do what I say at once!" He stamped his foot and the studio shook.

"Even as I stand here" he bellowed, "crippled, hobbled, sickened - I am a

greater ruler than any man who ever lived! Now watch me become what I can

become ! "
Harrison tore the straps of his handicap harness like wet tissue paper, tore

straps guaranteed to support five thousand pounds.

Harrison's scrap-iron handicaps crashed to the floor.

Harrison thrust his thumbs under the bar of the padlock that secured his head

harness. The bar snapped like celery. Harrison smashed his headphones and

spectacles against the wall.

He flung away his rubber-ball nose, revealed a man that would have awed Thor,

the god of thunder.

"I shall now select my Empress!" he said, looking down on the cowering

people. "Let

the first woman who dares rise to her feet claim her mate and her throne!"

A moment passed, and then a ballerina arose, swaying like a willow.

Harrison plucked the mental handicap from her ear, snapped off her physical

handicaps with marvelous delicacy. Last of all he removed her mask.

She was blindingly beautiful.

"Now-" said Harrison, taking her hand, "shall we show the people the meaning

of the word dance? Music!" he commanded.

The musicians scrambled back into their chairs, and Harrison stripped them of

their handicaps, too. "Play your best," he told them, "and I'll make you

barons and dukes and earls."

The music began. It was normal at first-cheap, silly, false. But Harrison

snatched two musicians from their chairs, waved them like batons as he sang

the music as he wanted it played. He slammed them back into their chairs.

The music began again and was much improved.

Harrison and his Empress merely listened to the music for a while-listened

gravely, as though synchronizing their heartbeats with it.

They shifted their weights to their toes.

Harrison placed his big hands on the girls tiny waist, letting her sense the

weightlessness that would soon be hers.

And then, in an explosion of joy and grace, into the air they sprang!

Not only were the laws of the land abandoned, but the law of gravity and the

laws of motion as well.

They reeled, whirled, swiveled, flounced, capered, gamboled, and spun.

They leaped like deer on the moon.

The studio ceiling was thirty feet high, but each leap brought the dancers

nearer to it.

It became their obvious intention to kiss the ceiling. They kissed it.

And then, neutraling gravity with love and pure will, they remained suspended

in air inches below the ceiling, and they kissed each other for a long, long

time .

It was then that Diana Moon Clampers, the Handicapper General, came into the

studio with a double-barreled ten-gauge shotgun. She fired twice, and the

Emperor and the Empress were dead before they hit the floor.

Diana Moon Clampers loaded the gun again. She aimed it at the musicians and

told them they had ten seconds to get their handicaps back on.

It was then that the Bergerons' television tube burned out.

Hazel turned to comment about the blackout to George. But George had gone out

into the kitchen for a can of beer.

George came back in with the beer, paused while a handicap signal shook him

up. And then he sat down again. "You been crying" he said to Hazel.
"Yup, " she said.

"What about?" he said.

"I forget," she said. "Something real sad on television."

"What was it?" he said.

"It's all kind of mixed up in my mind," said Hazel.

"Forget sad things," said George.

"I always do," said Hazel.

"That's my girl," said George. He winced. There was the sound of a rivetting

gun in his head.

"Gee - I could tell that one was a doozy, " said Hazel.

"You can say that again," said George.

"Gee-" said Hazel, "I could tell that one was a doozy."

"Harrison Bergeron" is copyrighted by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., 1961.

Formalist criticism is one way that a reader can approach his understanding of a text. When
a reader looks at a poem, play, story or novel from a formalist perspective, he is looking
solely at the work as something to be dissected, so he looks for all of the literary techniques
and devices that an author uses to create the text and its meaning. He does NOT look at the
author's life, he does NOT consider the text from a historical or psychological perspective; he
does NOT consider how this text is like other texts -- those are all other modes of literary
criticism.

CRITICAL ANALYSIS

In the first paragraph of his story, Vonnegut indicates that the year is 2081. He says that
everyone is equal because of the 211th,212th, and 213thAmendments to the Constitution, and
of the Handicapper General. What he’s really telling us here, is that a society has reached
equality in a time not very far from our own, and that wemade a bunch of laws to do it. Is
this really equality? This is more like a dictatorship than something to be happy about. The
people here really could care less if they were all equal. Most of them are mentally impared
or have been handicapped so that they can’t keep a straight line of thought. All they can
process is that they’re as good as anybody else, but they don’t have the mental compacity to
question why or how they got to this point. Anyone who tries to change the system is killed.
Is keeping people from taking fair advantage of their own brains striving to reach true
equality? People such as Harrison who are ‘under-handicapped’ are considered dangerous!
And why? Because those people can push past the boundaries society has dictated to them.
George says, “The minute people start cheating on laws, what do you think happens to
society?” And Hazel responds, “Reckon it’d fall apart.” But take this into consideration: Just
because a law is in place (or a government for that matter) doesn’t make it a particularly good
one just by default.People are held back from their full potential; from what they can truly
become. These circumstances do not create an ideal society.Such measures would hinder the
growth of the world. This wouldn’t just affect the individual, because without new ideas,
society wouldstop advancing. Technology would essentially stay the same, and the only
research done would be by the government. Essentially, by having this kind of superficial

Auskequality, no one would flourish, and everything would always stay the same. If
everyone isthe same, no one stands out, and no new ideas are presented. Society is
stunted.The world grows and changes because everyone has different qualities and skills. We
can’t take that away.In conclusion, because Harrison Beregeron defied his horrible
government, he was killed. We need to strive for a greater equality than that. A fake equality
is no better than discrimination.In order to prevent society from declining, we must never
resort to purposely handicapping.

In “Harrison Bergeron,” Vonnegut suggests that total equality is not an ideal worth striving
for, as many people believe, but a mistaken goal that is dangerous in both execution and
outcome. To achieve physical and mental equality among all Americans, the government in
Vonnegut’s story tortures its citizens. The beautiful must wear hideous masks or disfigure
themselves, the intelligent must listen to earsplitting noises that impede their ability to think,
and the graceful and strong must wear weights around their necks at all hours of the day. The
insistence on total equality seeps into the citizens, who begin to dumb themselves down or
hide their special attributes. Some behave this way because they have internalized the
government’s goals, and others because they fear that the government will punish them
severely if they display any remarkable abilities. The outcome of this quest for equality is
disastrous. America becomes a land of cowed, stupid, slow people. Government officials
murder the extremely gifted with no fear of reprisal. Equality is more or less achieved, but at
the cost of freedom and individual achievement.

Television is an immensely powerful force that sedates, rules, and terrorizes the characters in
“Harrison Bergeron.” To emphasize television’s overwhelming importance in society,
Vonnegut makes it a constant presence in his story: the entire narrative takes place as George
and Hazel sit in front of the TV. Television functions primarily as a sedative for the masses.
Hazel’s cheeks are wet with tears, but because she is distracted by the ballerinas on the
screen, she doesn’t remember why she is crying. The government also uses television as a
way of enforcing its laws. When dangerously talented people like Harrison are on the loose,
for example, the government broadcasts warnings about them. They show a photograph of
Harrison with his good looks mutilated and his strength dissipated. The photo is a way of
identifying the supposedly dangerous escapee, but it is also a way of intimidating television
viewers. It gives them a visual example of the handicaps imposed on those who do not
suppress their own abilities. Television further turns into a means of terrorizing the citizens
when Diana Moon Glampers shoots Harrison. The live execution is an effective way of
showing viewers what will happen to those who dare to disobey the law.
 DEAD MEN’S PATH

By: Chinua Achebe

Born in Nigeria in 1930, Chinua Achebe made a splash with the publication of his first novel,
Things Fall Apart, in 1958. Renowned as one of the seminal works of African literature, it
has since sold more than 20 million copies and been translated into more than 50 languages.
Achebe followed with novels such as No Longer at Ease (1960), Arrow of God (1964) and
Anthills of the Savannah (1987), and served as a faculty member at renowned universities in
the U.S. and Nigeria. He died on March 21, 2013, at age 82, in Boston, Massachusetts.

LITERARY TEXT

Michael Obi's hopes were fulfilled much earlier than he had expected. He was appointed
headmaster of Ndume Central School1 in January 1949. It had always been an unprogressive
school, so the Mission authorities decided to send a young and energetic man to run it. Obi
accepted this responsibility with enthusiasm. He had many wonderful ideas and this was an
opportunity to put them into practice. He had had sound secondary school education which
designated him a "pivotal teacher" in the official records and set him apart from the other
headmasters in the mission field. He was outspoken in his condemnation of the narrow views
of these older and often less-educated ones.

"We shall make a good job of it, shan't we?" he asked his young wife when they first heard
the joyful news of his promotion.

"We shall do our best," she replied. "We shall have such beautiful gardens and everything
will be just modern and delightful. . . ." In their two years of married life she had become
completely infected by his passion for "modern methods" and his denigration of "these old
and superannuated people in the teaching field who would be better employed as traders in
the Onitsha market." She began to see herself already as the admired wife of the young
headmaster, the queen of the school.

The wives of the other teachers would envy her position. She would set the fashion in
everything. . . . Then, suddenly, it occurred to her that there might not be other wives.
Wavering between hope and fear, she asked her husband, looking anxiously at him.

"All our colleagues are young and unmarried," he said with enthusiasm, which for once she
did not share. "Which is a good thing," he continued.

"Why?"
"Why? They will give all their time and energy to the school."

Nancy was downcast. For a few minutes she became skeptical about the new school; but it
was only for a few minutes. Her little personal misfortune could not blind her to her
husband's happy prospects. She looked at him as he sat folded up in a chair. He was stoop-
shouldered and looked frail. But he sometimes surprised people with sudden bursts of
physical energy. In his present posture, however, all his bodily strength seemed to have
retired behind his deep-set eyes, giving them an extraordinary power of penetration. He was
only twenty-six, but looked thirty or more. On the whole, he was not unhandsome.

"A penny for your thoughts, Mike," said Nancy after a while, imitating the woman's
magazine she read.

"I was thinking what a grand opportunity we've got at last to show these people how a school
should be run."

Ndume School was backward in every sense of the word. Mr. Obi put his whole life into the
work, and his wife hers too. He had two aims. A high standard of teaching was insisted upon,
and the school compound was to be turned into a place of beauty. Nancy's dream-gardens
came to life with the coming of the rains, and blossomed. Beautiful hibiscus and allamanda
hedges in brilliant red and yellow marked out the carefully tended school compound from the
rank neighborhood bushes.

One evening as Obi was admiring his work he was scandalized to see an old woman from the
village hobble right across the compound, through a marigold flower-bed and the hedges. On
going up there he found faint signs of an almost disused path from the village across the
school compound to the bush on the other side.

"It amazes me," said Obi to one of his teachers who had been three years in the school, "that
you people allowed the villagers to make use of this footpath. It is simply incredible." He
shook his head.
"The path," said the teacher apologetically, "appears to be very important to them. Although
it is hardly used, it connects the village shrine with their place of burial."

"And what has that got to do with the school?" asked the headmaster.

"Well, I don't know," replied the other with a shrug of the shoulders. "But I remember there
was a big row some time ago when we attempted to close it."

"That was some time ago. But it will not be used now," said Obi as he walked away. "What
will the iiovernment Education Officer think of this when he comes to inspect the school next
week? The villagers might, for all I know, decide to use the schoolroom for a pagan ritual
during the inspection."

Heavy sticks were planted closely across the path at the two places where it entered and left
the school premises. These were further strengthened with barbed wire.

Three days later the village priest of Ani called on the headmaster. He was an old man and
walked with a slight stoop. He carried a stout walking-stick which he usually tapped on the
floor, by way of emphasis, each time he made a new point in his argument.

"I have heard," he said after the usual exchange of cordialities, "that our ancestral foot-path
has recently been closed. . . ."

"Yes," replied Mr. Obi. "We cannot allow people to make a highway of our school
compound."

"Look here, my son," said the priest bringing down his walking-stick, "this path was here
before you were born and before your father was born. The whole life of this village depends
on it. Our dead relatives depart by it and our ancestors visit us by it. But most important, it is
the path of children coming in to be born. . .."

Mr. Obi listened with a satisfied smile on his face.

"The whole purpose of our school," he said finally, "is to eradicate just such beliefs as that.
Dead men do not require footpaths. The whole idea is just fantastic. Our duty is to teach your
children to laugh at such ideas."

"What you say may be true," replied the priest, "but we follow the practices of our fathers. If
you reopen the path we shall have noth-ing to quarrel about. What I always say is: let the
hawk perch and let the eagle perch." He rose to go.

"1 am sorry," said the young headmaster. "But the school compound cannot be a
thoroughfare. It is against our regulations. I would suggest your constructing another path,
skirting our premises. We can even get our boys to help in building it. I don't suppose the
ancestors will find the little detour too burdensome."

"I have no more words to say," said the old priest, already outside.

Two days later a young woman in the village died in childbed. A diviner was immediately
consulted and he prescribed heavy sacrifices to propitiate ancestors insulted by the fence.

Obi woke up next morning among the ruins of his work. The beautiful hedges were torn up
not just near the path but right round the school, the flowers trampled to death and one of the
school buildings pulled down. . . . That day, the white Supervisor came to inspect the school
and wrote a nasty report on the state of the premises but more seriously about the "tribal-war
situation developing between the school and the village, arising in part from the misguided
zeal of the new headmaster."

Biographical criticism, on the other hand, studies a literary work in the context of its
author's life and, more broadly, his or her historical period. Its key value lies in providing
context. Biographical criticism fell into disrepute because of indulging in unsubstantiated
claims, such as that Emily Bronte must have had a secret lover because otherwise she could
not have invented Heathcliff, or Shakespeare must have been an aristocrat because no
commoner could have written such magnificent plays. However, in recent years, biographical
criticism has made a comeback as people have increasingly realized that to reach a deeper
and more nuanced understanding of a work of art, it is important to know about a writer's life,
politics, and preoccupations. As long as biographical criticism enhances, rather than limits,
our understanding of a text, it functions as a useful lens through which to study literature.
 AT THE AUCTION OF RUBY SLIPPERS

By: Salman Rushchie

Born on June 19, 1947, in Bombay (now Mumbai), India, Salman Rushdie is a British-Indian
novelist. The only son of a University of Cambridge-educated businessman and school
teacher in Bombay, Rushdie studied history at King's College at the University of Cambridge.
Rushdie's 1988 novel, The Satanic Verses (1988), led to accusations of blasphemy against
Islam, forcing him to go into hiding for several years.

LITERARY TEXT

I found the chapter, “At the Auction of the Ruby Slippers”, to be an interesting response and
interpretation of the overall message of the Wizard Of Oz. Though its only reference to the
film are the red slippers, I think the descriptions surrounding the attendees, the unique desires
that propel them into the auction house, and the final fate that falls upon the narrator all create
a close parallelism to the events which occur within the film.

Earlier in the novel, Rushdie reveals that the shoes which were found in the basement of the
MGM studios were most likely the ones worn by Dorothy’s stunt double whose feet where
two sizes larger than Judy Garlands. He remarks, “is it not fitting that the shoes made for the
stand-in to stand in should have been passed into the possession of another form of surrogate:
a film fan?” He explains that as viewers, we ourselves are ‘stand-ins’ through the products of
out imaginations. It doesn’t matter that the slippers may or may not be authentically
Dorothy’s, as the desire they fulfill is accomplished and nothing really is authentic without
strong belief behind it.

Concerning the story of the auction, the narrator’s desire is only propelled by his ex-
girlfriend Gail whom he wishes to win back. Like Dorothy, he is a stranger surrounded by
other strangers, bidding (money instead life) in order to reach his goal (winning the shoes in
comparison to winning passage home). Like Dorothy, he is overcome by a stronger power,
“fictions” and, like Dorothy falling asleep in the poppy field, he loses grip on his goal and
awakes with a new sense of fulfillment. Though he does not win the slippers, he is thrown
back into pit of desire as the promises of next weeks auction offers another chance at winning
back another ex-girlfriend, Toto. I believe this relates back to Rushdie’s final analysis of the
overall message of the film. Ultimately, he explains that Dorothy really didn’t gain anything
in the end, at least nothing that she already didn’t know before she left. Like the narrator who
continues to chase unrealistic desires that will result in a cyclical pattern, Dorothy remains
uninspired and unaffected from her trip to OZ as home is and always will be where she wants
to be.

Reader response is a school of literary criticism that ignores both the author and the text's
contents, confining analysis to the reader's experience when reading a particular work. Reader
response theorists are particularly concerned with the traditional teaching approaches that
imply that a work of literature has a particular interpretation. According to Louise Rosenblatt,
one of the primary figures in reader response, all reading is a transaction between the reader
and writer (as represented by an immutable text). She further posits that the "stance" of the
reader, either "aesthetic" (reading by choice or for pleasure) or "efferent"(reading by
assignment or because one has to), has a major influence on the textual experience.

CRITICAL ANALYSIS:

The author of “Dead Men’s Path,” Chinua Achebe, is a native born Nigerian. Born in 1930
to missionary schoolteachers, Achebe was raised in a strong Christian home. He was one of
the first to attend the University College at Ibdan and later finished his schooling and earned
a B.A. in English at London University. Upon his graduation, he returned to Africa and went
through many years of turmoil as his country was split in two by civil war. Achebe is best
known for his novels, and although he has not written many short stories, he is known to
“stand among the finest short fiction modern Africa has produced” (10). Upon reading the
author’s perspective at the end of the story I was caught on the author’s intrigue with
different cultures. I, too, love to learn about and experience different cultures, especially
ones that I’ve never heard of or experienced before. This was my basis for picking this short
story.

The short story, “Dead Men’s Path,” is the story of a “modern method” (10) African
headmaster who takes on a new job in a village where the people are superstitious and cling
to traditional tribal ways. The story addresses the cultural conflicts between “new” British
ideas and “old” African customs. The story takes place at Ndume Central School in Africa in
January of 1949. There is really only one fully developed character. The headmaster,
Michael Obi, is a man who strives to be made modern and make everything in his path
modernized. In doing so, he alienates the villagers by putting up barricades in front of their
sacred ancestral path. The path happened to lead right down the middle of the school
grounds. The villagers blame Obi for the death of one of their women who died in childbirth,
as the path that was blocked connected the village shrine to their place of burial. The dead
relatives of the villagers used this path to depart from the village and their ancestors used the
path to visit them. Most importantly, the path allowed children to come into the village to be
born. By blocking the path, the child was not allowed to enter the village, and both the
mother and child did not survive. As a result, Michael Obi woke up one morning to find his
once perfectly constructed school premises in ruins.

Initially I picked this story because I think we Americans live in a very ethnocentric society
and this topic interests me greatly. I’m fascinated with different cultures and beliefs and was
highly interested in this story. Chinua Achebe does a great job in portraying this ethnocentric
idea, and it made me realize that not just industrialized nations experience ethnocentrism.
Little villages in Africa experience it too, but in a different way. Because of the ending, and
the way Achebe showed how Obi was so close-minded and had to have things his way really
allowed me to enjoy the story. I’m not saying I like horrid and depressing endings, but I do
like when an author shows a point that is so good that it gets the point across without any
case of misunderstanding it.

The main topic in Chinua Achebe’s short story, “Dead Men’s Path,” deals with cultural
differences. It deals with new and old, modern and ancient, today and yesterday. I think a
main theme of the short story is to always keep an open mind when dealing with different and
new cultures. One man, the headmaster Michael Obi, is “infected by his passion for ‘modern
methods’” (10) and, because of this, he tramples on the very beliefs and traditions of a native
tribe. I perceive this as him thinking his way is better than theirs and therefore is showing
ethnocentrism. The author states Obi is “outspoken in his condemnation of the narrow view
of these older and often less-educated ones” (10). This statement clearly shows that Obi is
the one that is narrow-minded in his views.

The author does a great job in building up the setting. It’s only a path and a school yard, but
that’s what makes the story what it is. It is all about the path being barricaded. If the setting
was changed at all, the story would take on a different feel. The other characters in the story
are not all fully developed, and they do not need to be. The story tells a great deal in the
minute information that is given on the characters such as Obi’s wife and the village priest.
The story is still understood. The author’s use of the first person for the point of view is done
well. All of these elements of fiction help to support the main theme of always needing to
keep an open mind when dealing with different and new cultures.

This short story by Chinua Achebe, in my opinion, is one that people should definitely read.
It is short and gets the message across. It doesn’t require a lot of thinking to understand it.
Since we live in such an ethnocentric nation and society, I feel that reading stories about it
happening in the little villages of Africa could open people’s eyes to it happening in the U.S.
It’s definitely a completely different culture and a completely different way of life, but that
just might be the thing that people see, and it might open their eyes to it in America. Because
it is so short, many people would be more inclined to read it since it’s a “short read.”

Also, reading any sort of material from an author of a different race/culture/time period
brings new aspects to be learned into our brains. It allows our brains to expand with
knowledge that wouldn’t be found anywhere else. We can become more well-rounded
people just by opening up a book or reading a short story.

I gained many things from this “exploration.” I gained the reading of works by an African
author I had never heard of before. I was able to better affirm my belief that ethnocentrism is
running rampant in today’s world and it must come to an end. I learned that we, as a whole
human race, need to respect other’s beliefs and rituals no matter how absurd they appear. I
really enjoyed this short story by Chinua Achebe and would like to read more by him. I’m
intrigued with different cultures, especially different African cultures. In the past I’ve had the
opportunity to travel to and experience parts of Africa. One day, I hope to return and pick up
where I left off.
 SURE THING

By: David Ives

David Ives (born July 11, 1950) is an American playwright, screenwriter, and novelist. He is
perhaps best known for his comic one-act plays; the New York Times in 1997 referred to him
as the "maestro of the short form". Ives has also written dramatic plays, narrative stories, and
screenplays, has adapted French 17th and 18th-century classical comedies, and adapted 33
musicals for New York City's Encores! series.

LITERARY TEXT

Sure Thing takes place entirely inside a cafe, and begins as Bill enters the eatery. He
approaches Betty and asks her if the seat at her table is taken. She responds by saying yes,
and a bell rings. This is the first of many times in the play that the bell will ring, and each
time it does, it resets the conversation in progress. So Bill asks the same question again, and
this time Betty tells him that she’s waiting for someone. The bell rings again, and the
conversation starts over for the third time. This time, Betty tells Bill again that the seat is
taken, but Bill tries to insist. She almost agrees to let him sit with her, but he makes a
comment about how she never knows who she’s turning down. This offends her, and the bell
rings again. He’s rejected one more time, but on the fifth try, Betty agrees to let him sit with
her while she continues reading. He attempts to make some conversation, but Betty cuts him
off, telling him she prefers to read in silence. The bell rings again.

In the next arc of the narrative, the two characters start talking again from the point when
Betty agreed to let Bill sit with her. They start talking about literature, and are interrupted and
reset by seven more bell rings during this portion. Eventually, they pull back from the topic
and introduce themselves. Bill asks Betty if she comes to the cafe often. She originally says
that she’s from Pakistan, but eventually admits that she frequently comes to this cafe. Next,
they start talking about their relationships. The conversation starts over frequently. First,
Betty tells Bill that she’s married. Then, she changes her story to say that she’s waiting for a
boyfriend. Eventually, she says that she recently broke up with her boyfriend after a long
relationship. She had tried to avoid the topic multiple times, but Bill now knows that she’s
single and invites her to go to a movie with him. She refuses, and the bell rings again. The
conversation starts over, and this time Bill talks about his failed relationships. He tells her
that he’s also coming out of a long relationship and looking to start over.

The subject now shifts to politics, and this causes the bell to ring frequently. Bill causes the
bell to ring every time he says something conservative, until he eventually says that he’s not
affiliated with any party. Multiple times his answers come off as sexist or otherwise
offensive, and each one causes the bell to ring as well. Then the subject turns again, to the
point where Bill asked Betty to the movies. They both start talking at the same time about an
upcoming film festival. When the topic turns to movies, they learn that they have very similar
tastes in film, and in fact have a lot in common. Their relationship develops quickly at this
point, without the bell ringing, and by the end of the play they’ve made plans to go out on a
date. In the last scene, Betty asks Bill if he will always love her, and he responds in the
affirmative. Their brief meeting over until the next time their relationship develops, they
simultaneously call the waiter over to their table to order. This causes the bell to ring one
final time.

David Ives is an American playwright, screenwriter, and novelist, best known for his comic
one-act plays. Having been called the “Maestro of the short form”, he is also highly
experienced in adapting French 17th- and 18th-century classical comedies, and has adapted
thirty-three musicals for New York City’s Encores! series. He wrote his first play when he
was nine, graduated from Northwestern University in 1971, and received a Master of Fine
Arts from the Yale School of Drama in 1984. He has worked with collaborators including
David Copperfield, Reba McEntire, and Stephen Sondheim on projects, and in 2004 debuted
a new musical based on the music of Irving Berlin. He is also the author of The Phobia
Clinic, an acclaimed horror novel told entirely in verse, and the young adult period piece
Monsieur Eek.

Formalist criticism is defined as a literary criticism approach which provides readers with a
way to understand and enjoy a work for its own inherent value as a piece of literary art.
Formalist critics spend a great deal of time analyzing irony, paradox, imagery, and metaphor.
They are also interested in a work’s setting, characters, symbols, and point of view.

CRITICAL ANALYSIS

Engaging in a fight with members of the opposite sex can turn out to be a strenuous task.
Mohammed Ali who is a prize-fighting boxing champion once stated that his toughest fight
was with his first wife. However, boxing as an art gives a fascinating metaphor for the “battle
of the sexes”. There are certain low blows and punches thrown between couples in the world
of dating. It could maybe be a sudden an unsuspecting girl’s left hook that makes clear her
intolerance Chinese food or even a blow to one’s preferred genre of music which is below the
belt. Anyway, just like in the case of boxing, dating can turn into a mental game of who will
outlast whom in a battle of wits. Just like in boxing, two individuals on a date consistently
spring around deliberate prose amongst each other and make effort to determine opponent’s
weaknesses so as to use it against them. In literature works like David Ives' play Sure Thing,
which is a piece applying rapid-fire lines between a girl and a guy who are getting to know
each other this concept clearly manifests itself.
In Ives’ Sure Thing, a girl (Betty) and a guy (Bill), finally fall for each other but not before
“having a fist fight” in an effort to get to know about each other. So as to do this, they express
rapid one-liners which are like the convulsive punches of a boxing match, between each
other. There are of course no prominent or observable manifestations of actual boxing in the
text, but the dialogue’s rhythm can be deduced to imitate the moves of a boxing match. The
dialogue is decisive, compact and quick just like the steps and punches used by a boxer in a
fight. There are several questions which reoccur when an individual stops the rhythm and
utters something faulty. For instance, in a short literally description, Betty inquires about
Bill’s love life. The conversation is repeatedly interrupted a bell’s sound. This is a further
support to the boxing theme (Forums.interestingnonetheless.net). In this section, the dialogue
is rapid, similar to punches in boxing ring. This couple takes shots at each other through
discussion rather than by physical punching. At the end of every round the bell rings which
indicates a dead end for the dialogue between Betty and Bill. The ringing bell is a
representation of a fresh new start and is a device that allows for the two characters in the
play to embark on their conversation again. It is similar to the bell which is normally utilized
in boxing matches that divides the rounds in a given match and allows for the boxers to get
some rest before the beginning of the next round.

In this play, there is unending versions of a boy meets girl situation and the pick-up lines that
follow. The fundamental theme evident throughout the play shows a few variations of a
potential conversation which ends with a bell ringing representing a second chance and fresh
start to make an impression that is good. The fast moving conversations start in a coffee
house with the two chief and only characters namely Betty and Bill. At the start, the lines
from the boy are quick and short followed by an equally short response from the girl just like
the punches thrown in a boxing match. There is a ringing bell which separates every pick up
line. The play indicates that every human being is critical of their fellow human beings. They
are critical about their cars, houses, looks, children among other things. There is an old
saying which generally states that one can never have a second chance to make a good first
impression. In this play, David Ives utilizes a bell as a mechanism that separates the dialogue
in pick-up lines that are subsequent just like a bell in boxing separates every round and
represents the beginning of another. This separation gives the characters involved another
chance to make a good impression. In boxing the time after a bell gives the boxers some time
to gather up their strength and come back better prepared. The plot of this play demonstrates
to individuals that they ought to think clearly about what they say so as to improve their
conversations. This is similar to boxing in that one needs to make clear and calculated moves
in order to win.
 FLOWER

By: Kim Chun Soo

Kim Chun-su (November 25, 1922 - November 29, 2004)

Kim Chun-su was one of the leading Korean poets of late 20th century. He won several

awards and was a professor of Korean Literature. His works have been translated into

English, German and Spanish

Before I spoke his name

he was simply
one set of gestures, nothing more.

Then I spoke his name,

he came to me
and became a flower.

Just as I spoke his name,

I hope that someone will speak my name,
one right for my color and perfume.
I long to go to him
and become his flower.

We all of us
long to become something.
You for me, and I for you,
we long to become a never-to-be-forgotten gaze.

Formalist criticism is defined as a literary criticism approach which provides readers with a

way to understand and enjoy a work for its own inherent value as a piece of literary art.

Formalist critics spend a great deal of time analyzing irony, paradox, imagery, and metaphor.

They are also interested in a work’s setting, characters, symbols, and point of view.

CRITICAL ANALYSIS:
Unlike at its first glance, the poem Flower seems to be more than just a very sentimental

romantic poem. It is because that the poet seems to address the human's instinctive pursuit of

wanting to be recognized and acknowledged by others, rather than merely depicting emotions

from being in love.

Accordingly, my main focus of the poem includes the process of "he" in the poem who once

is a gesture becoming a flower, then a meaning to somebody. The way I understood this is

that the sequence and development of the stanzas in the poem is very similar to the process of

two strangers becoming friends.

To illustrate, when I see someone I don't know, any of his/her action is a mere "gesture,

nothing more", as described in the first stanza. However, as we shake hands and introduce

ourselves to each other, the stranger becomes the "flower" of mine like in the second stanza,

the status of mutual recognition between the two individuals. The meaning of first two

stanzas is revealed in the third stanza, addressing the aspect of human nature that one

naturally longs to become somebody who is recognized and acknowledged by others.

At the final stanza, the poet expands its boundary of intrinsic longing for existence from the

two individuals to the entire human community. Here, it seems clear to me that the poet

implies how human finds the meaning of his or her own existence through mutual recognition

with other humans. This indicates that interaction with others is the way we define ourselves

by being somebody to them.

Regarding the use of language, what makes this poem special is that the poet employs very

basic everyday language–both in translated and original language–as he addresses such

profound subject. Maybe the purpose of utilizing very basic of everyday language is related

to the poet's idea that the pursuit of being recognized is human's intrinsic value, derived from

the most basic question of human being: the meaning of existence.