Lit Analysis #3 The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros

1. Briefly summarize the plot of the novel you read according to the elements of plot you've learned in past courses (exposition, inciting incident, etc.).  Explain how the narrative fulfills the author's purpose (based on your well-informed interpretation of same).

Exposition:
Ezperanza and her family move to Mango street after making several moves. We meet the family members through a creative analogy of hair. We also learn about the the gender roles in their culture as well as Ezperanza'a hope to change what her situation.

Inciting Incident: 
Moving to the house on Mango Street. 

Rising Action:  
We see the struggles of Ezperanza because of the financial situation her family is in as well as the struggles she faces as she tries to improve her future. We also see her determination to change.

Conflict:
Ezperanza notices the conflicts of the people on mango Street as well as her own and the story shows us how people have to live with them and overcome them. It is mainly through the perspective of women in the neighborhood. The main antagonist seem to be the males in society.

Climax:
After watching all the hardships of the people around her, up until she watches her friend Sally get married at a young age, Ezperanza makes up her mind to leave Mango Street. At a funeral she meets fortune tellers that tell her she will leave Mango Street but she would come back to help her roots.

Falling Action: 
Years later Esperanza realizes that the fortune tellers were right and that mango Street and its people becam a part of her.

Resolution: Ezperanza hopes to help mango Street through her writing.

2. Succinctly describe the theme of the novel. Avoid cliches.
The novel is an autobiography of Sandra Cisneros's life in her neighborhood, and it's message is that you can do anything with Hope.

3. Describe the author's tone. Include a minimum of three excerpts that illustrate your point(s).
The tone of the book is reflective, you can really tell how the author reflects on the situation the other women were in and about her life, however the tone was also hopeful and reassuring as she already knew that the outcome of the story would be positive because of Ezperanza's hope. (Ezperanza in spanish means hope)

"They always told us that one day we would move into a house, a real house that would be ours for always so we wouldn't have to move each year... Our house would be white with trees around it, a great big yard and grass growing without a fence. This was the house Papa talked about when he held a lottery ticket and this was the house Mama dreamed up in the stories she told us before we went to bed."

"When I am too sad and too skinny to keep keeping, when I am a tiny thing against so many bricks, then it is I look at the trees. When there is nothing left to look at on this street. Four who grew despite concrete. Four who reach and do not forget to reach. Four whose only reason is to be and be."

"In English my name means hope."

4. Describe a minimum of ten literary elements/techniques you observed that strengthened your understanding of the author's purpose, the text's theme and/or your sense of the tone. For each, please include textual support to help illustrate the point for your readers. (Please include edition and page numbers for easy reference.)

Personification: "It's small and red with tight steps in front and windows so small you'd think they were holding there breath." vignette 1

Characterization: "In English my name means hope."
Symbolism: Mango Street symbolizes Mexican neighborhoods.

Simile: "It's like drops of water. Or like marimbas only with a funny little plucked sound to it like if you were running your fingers across the teeth of a metal comb." vignette 8
Hyperbole: "The Eskimos got thirty different kinds of snow, I say. I read it in a book. ... There are a million zillion kinds, says Nenny. No two are exactly alike." vignette 17
Synesthesia: "The yellow pillow, the yellow smell, the bottles and the spoons. Her head thrown back like a thirsty lady. My aunt, the swimmer." vignette 22
Allusion: "I took my library books to her house. I read her stories. I liked the book The Waterbabies. She liked it too." vignette 34 The Walrus and the Carpenter of Alice in Wonderland.
Metaphor: "When I am too sad and too skinny to keep keeping, when I am a tiny thing against so many bricks, then it is I look at the trees. When there is nothing left to look at on this street. Four who grew despite concrete. Four who reach and do not forget to reach. Four whose only reason is to be and be."
Alliteration: "Cathy who is queen of cats has cats and cats and cats. Baby cats, big cats, skinny cats, sick cats. Cats asleep like little donuts. Cats on top of the refrigerator. Cats taking a walk on the dinner table. Her house is like cat heaven." vignette 5
Flashback: "We didn't always live on Mango Street. Before that we lived on Loomis on the third floor, and before that we lived on Keeler. Before Keeler it was Paulina, and before that I cant remember. But what I remember most is moving a lot." vignette 1
Repetition: "Where do you live? she asked. There, I said pointing up to the third floor. You live there? There. I had to look to where she pointed- the third floor, the paint peeling, wooden bars Papa had nailed on the windows so we wouldn't fall out. You live there? The way she said it made me feel like nothing. There. I lived there. I nodded." vignette 1

 CHARACTERIZATION
1. Describe two examples of direct characterization and two examples of indirect characterization.  Why does the author use both approaches, and to what end (i.e., what is your lasting impression of the character as a result)?
INDIRECT 
"We didn't always live on Mango Street. Before that we lived on Loomis on the third floor, and before that we lived on Keeler. Before Keeler it was Paulina, and before that I cant remember. But what I remember most is moving a lot."
we learned about Ezperanza's family the the kind of financial situation they are is and that they work very hard to keep there family in a home as well as want there kids to do better than they do.
"My Papa's Hair is like a broom, all up in the air."
The Hair in the vignette is a symbolism for the family member's personalities. The father probably doesn't spent to much time on appearence because he is working and busy. 

DIRECT
"Her name was Guadalupe and she was pretty like my mother. Dark. Good to look at. In her Joan Crawford dress and swimmer's legs. Aunt Lupe of the photographs."
"Sally is the girl with eyes like Egypt and nylons the color of smoke. The boys think she's beautiful because her hair is shiny black like raven feathers and when she laughs, she flicks her hair back like a satin shawl over her shoulder and laughs."
"Ruthie, tall skinny lady with red lipstick and blue babushka, one blue sock and one green because she forgot, is the only grown-up we know who likes to play."


2. Does the author's syntax and/or diction change when s/he focuses on character?  How?  Example(s)?
The diction of the author stays mostly the same as the book is reflective and tells the story through the future Esperanza's eyes.  She doesn't really play around with the syntax all that much.

3. Is the protagonist static or dynamic?  Flat or round?  Explain.
Esperanza is dynamic and round. We see her growth throughout the story and we see the many sides of her from a more serious side to a more immature side. 

 4. After reading the book did you come away feeling like you'd met a person or read a character?  Analyze one textual example that illustrates your reaction. 
Ezperanza is very real she is Sandra Cisneros and I really felt I understood her especially because I have met many other people like her throughout my life and she doesn't seem like a stranger.

Hamlet Essay Quotes

Quote:

• What is a man,
  If his chief good and market of his time
  Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.
  Sure he that made us with such large discourse,
  Looking before and after, gave us not
  That capability and god-like reason
  To fust in us unused.

Hamlet by Shakespeare was not about a mad prince. It was about an elaborate plan thought up by a prince to get revenge for his father's death. The only madness or doubt in hamlet's words were to be or not to be.  This is evident through the characterization of Hamlet, the tone of the author, and the plot.

In the quote above Hamlet is frustrated with himself for not acting. By not acting he is like a beast that only eats and sleeps. Anybody mad would never think this way. If he were mad he would not be worried about taking action, his suicidal mentality would want him to stop doing everything. Throughout the play we see hamlet grow and become more confrontational, direct, and taking more drastic actions. He goes from over thinking things to being a avenger in the name of his father. Nobody mad would go through this growth. We also can tell through the way that his language has double meanings that when he acts mad he actually has something to say that only the audience could get through because we know Hamlet's thoughts.

The tone of the author and the way Shakespeare chose to portray this character shows that Hamlet was not mad and really had a meaning behind his words. The author chooses Hamlet to be one of the only characters in the play to use iambic pentameter as well as the choice of words hamlet uses has a higher feel than everybody else's. Even when hamlet is acting mad, Shakespeare places him at a higher social status in the play as if though he is above everybody else.

Through the plot of the play we once again see hamlet's growth, but we also see the character's also realizing that he has more sanity than they thought at first. They also begin to fear him more as the play goes on until it is time to kill him. The whole plot leading up until Hamlet's death is just Hamlet's growth and his validity increasing to the whole audience.

Overall the literary elements of the play all add to the strength of the argument that hamlet is not mad, and that he is a growing relative character.  

The most unromantic love song

 "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot 

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma percioche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.

 

Let us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table;

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question ...

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

Let us go and make our visit. 

 

 

In the room the women come and go

Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,

The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,

Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,

Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,

Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,

Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,

And seeing that it was a soft October night,

Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time

For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,

Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;

There will be time, there will be time

To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;

There will be time to murder and create,

And time for all the works and days of hands

That lift and drop a question on your plate;

Time for you and time for me,

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

And for a hundred visions and revisions,

Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go

Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time

To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”

Time to turn back and descend the stair,

With a bald spot in the middle of my hair —

(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)

My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,

My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin —

(They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)

Do I dare

Disturb the universe?

In a minute there is time

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;

I know the voices dying with a dying fall

Beneath the music from a farther room.

               So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—

The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,

And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,

When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,

Then how should I begin

To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?

               And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—

Arms that are braceleted and white and bare

(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)

Is it perfume from a dress

That makes me so digress?

Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.

               And should I then presume?

               And how should I begin?

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets

And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes

Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? ...

I should have been a pair of ragged claws

Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!

Smoothed by long fingers,

Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,

Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.

Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,

Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?

But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,

Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,

I am no prophet — and here’s no great matter;

I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,

And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,

And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,

After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,

Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,

Would it have been worth while,

To have bitten off the matter with a smile,

To have squeezed the universe into a ball

To roll it towards some overwhelming question,

To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,

Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—

If one, settling a pillow by her head

               Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;

               That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,

Would it have been worth while,

After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,

After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—

And this, and so much more?—

It is impossible to say just what I mean!

But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:

Would it have been worth while

If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,

And turning toward the window, should say:

               “That is not it at all,

               That is not what I meant, at all.”

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;

Am an attendant lord, one that will do

To swell a progress, start a scene or two,

Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,

Deferential, glad to be of use,

Politic, cautious, and meticulous;

Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;

At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—

Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old ... I grow old ...

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind?   Do I dare to eat a peach?

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves

Combing the white hair of the waves blown back

When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea

By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown

Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

To this point in my life this poem is probably my favorite modernist poem ever written just because it leaves me with such a puzzle. I paints all these scenes and doesn't give you a theme instead it just leaves you wondering and finding your own answers. Every time I read this I get a new perpective and insight on the poem I didn't see before. 

Poetry Collides

Summons
by Robert Francis

Keep me from going to sleep too soon
Or if I go to sleep too soon
Come wake me up. Come any hour
Of night. Come whistling up the road.
Stomp on the porch. Bang on the door.
Make me get out of bed and come
And let you in and light a light.
Tell me the northern lights are on
And make me look. Or tell me clouds
Are doing something to the moon
They never did before, and show me.
See that I see. Talk to me till
I'm half as wide awake as you
And start to dress wondering why
I ever went to bed at all.
Tell me the walking is superb.
Not only tell me but persuade me.
You know I'm not too hard persuaded. 

The Place Where We Are Right
by Yehuda Amichai

From the place where we are right
Flowers will never grow
In the spring.
The place where we are right
Is hard and trampled
Like a yard.
But doubts and loves
Dig up the world
Like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
Where the ruined
House once stood.

Poetry isn't all made the same which is pretty obvious to anyone who has ever read two poems and understood what they meant. They do share many similarities however and aren't always all that different. there are some similarities and differences between "Summons" by Robert Francis and "The Place Where We Are Right" by Yehuda Amichai.

One similarity that can be noticed by the first words picked for each verse of the poems. They are all these powerful nouns or verbs. The authors don't waste a word by beginning a verse with filler words like "the, there, A", or any unnecessary expansive language. they get right to the point in there literature and that gives much power to there words. Both authors also artfully decide how much to put on a verse. Some contain two sentences, others have fragments of a sentence. Others include a sentence but they finish in the following line. However they all are written in a style that shows you how the author wrote it and thought it the way it is written reflex the authors train of thought and stream of conscientiousness.

The poems are very different however. "Summons" describes to me like a call for help. Some one is asking to be persuaded as if all that they really need is the attention and a sign that some one else cares about him doing something. It is very vague, but it illustrates a feeling that some people have felt before. It almost feels at time like the author is immature and won't take responsibility for himself but could really also be in a hole that he needs help getting out of.

The other poem "The Place Where We Are Right" describes the reality of always being right and never accepting other answers and other ideas. This is the land of the ignorant, where people are given the choice to see a new perpective but choose not to because they are always right and don't need and alternate answer. They choose to be close minded because they are always right and they create a place of ruin as described by the poem.

Obviously these poems have very different themes, tones, mood and feel, but we did find some similarities that can be seen also in many other poems and poetry.

transmedia poem collaborative work

Transmedia Poetry Summons by Robert Francis
 "Keep me from going to sleep too soon" Like this:

"Or if I go to sleep too soon
Come wake me up. Come any hour
 Of night." Sounds like he wants this:

 "Come whistling up the road.
 Stomp on the porch. Bang on the door."

wikiHow: How to Kick Down a Door"
Make me get out of bed and come
 And let you in and light a light.

 Tell me the northern lights are on
And make me look.

 Or tell me clouds
Are doing something to the moon
They never did before, and show me.

 See that I see. Talk to me till
I'm half as wide awake as you
And start to dress wondering why I ever went to bed at all."
Why Do We Need Sleep?
"Tell me the walking is superb.
Quotes about walking:
 “All truly great thoughts are conceived while walking.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols, Or, How to Philosophize With the Hammer “I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.” ― John Muir, John of the Mountains: The Unpublished Journals of John Muir "My grandmother started walking five miles a day when she was sixty. She's ninety-seven now, and we don't know where the heck she is." ― Ellen DeGeneres

"Not only tell me but persuade me.
You know I'm not too hard persuaded."

Lit analysis #2

Hamlet and Me

Most heroes are over dramatized and unrealistic, like a perfect form of what everyone in society wants to be. Most times it is hard to relate to characters because of this and I have never felt like a character was being described to mirror me in every way. The closest was in Catcher in the Rye because the protagonist was really reflective of most adolescent thinking for the time period it was written which was not to long ago. however Hamlet and I seem to be the same person, as I read his thoughts and actions I feel like i know exactly what he is going to do next because we are so similar. Now the hamlet I relate to is very different from the Hamlet I have seem dramatized. I haven't seen a Hamlet yet that reflects my thoughts on his character.

Vocab #6

abase - verb cause to feel shame; hurt the pride of
abdicate - verb give up, such as power, as of monarchs and emperors, or duties and obligations
abomination - noun an action that is vicious or vile; an action that arouses disgust or abhorrence; a person who is loathsome or disgusting; hate coupled with disgust
brusque - adj. marked by rude or peremptory shortness
saboteur - noun someone who commits sabotage or deliberately causes wrecks; a member of a clandestine subversive organization who tries to help a potential invader
debauchery - noun a wild gathering involving excessive drinking and promiscuity
proliferate - verb cause to grow or increase rapidly; grow rapidly
anachronism - noun an artifact that belongs to another time; a person who seems to be displaced in time; who belongs to another age; something located at a time when it could not have existed or occurred
nomenclature - noun a system of words used to name things in a particular discipline
expurgate - verb edit by omitting or modifying parts considered indelicate
bellicose - adj. having or showing a ready disposition to fight
gauche - adj. lacking social polish
rapacious - adj. excessively greedy and grasping; devouring or craving food in great quantities; living by preying on other animals especially by catching living prey
paradox - noun (logic) a statement that contradicts itself
conundrum - noun a difficult problem
anomaly - noun (astronomy) position of a planet as defined by its angular distance from its perihelion (as observed from the sun); a person who is unusual; deviation from the normal or common order or form or rule
ephemeral - adj. lasting a very short time; noun anything short-lived, as an insect that lives only for a day in its winged form
rancorous - adj. showing deep-seated resentment
churlish - adj. having a bad disposition; surly; rude and boorish
precipitous - adj. characterized by precipices; extremely steep;done with very great haste and without due deliberation

Unphotographical Moment

Rainy day and tired from practice. Not depressed but not really looking forward to the rest of my day. Just kind of wanted  to crawl in bed and sleep. I turn around to inspiration.

The point of Canterbury Tales is...

Canterbury tales is a story that removes the veil of society to society, it shows the imperfections through the characterization, the themes of the stories, and the narrator's tone, by doing this Chaucer shed a new light on the people and said out loud what everybody else was thinking.

Vocab #5

shenanigans- noun mischief; prankishness
ricochet - noun a glancing rebound; verb spring back; spring away from an impactschism - noun division of a group into opposing factions; the formal separation of a church into two churches or the withdrawal of one group over doctrinal differenceseschew - verb avoid and stay away from deliberately; stay clear ofplethora - noun extreme excessebullient - adj. joyously unrestrainedgarrulous - adj. full of trivial conversationharangue - noun a loud bombastic declamation expressed with strong emotion; verb deliver a harangue to; address forcefullyinterdependence - noun a reciprocal relation between interdependent entities (objects or individuals or groups)capricious - adj. determined by chance or impulse or whim rather than by necessity or reason; changeableloquacious - adj. full of trivial conversationephemeral - adj. lasting a very short time; noun anything short-lived, as an insect that lives only for a day in its winged forminchoate - adj. only partly in existence; imperfectly formedjuxtapose - verb place side by sideperspicacious - adj. acutely insightful and wise; mentally acute or penetratingly discerningcodswallop - noun nonsensical talk or writingmungo-noun a low-grade wool from felted rags or waste.sesquipedelian-adjective given to using long wordswonky - adj. inclined to shake as from weakness or defect; turned or twisted toward one sidediphthong - noun a vowel sound that starts near the articulatory position for one vowel and moves toward the position for another

Canterbury Character study

As I sit and think I am left with the question, who am I? I ask other people and they all tell me things about myself I don't even know existed. who knows me better than me, and if I don't know myself then who does? the questions slap me in the face and leave me with a bruise that will not heal until I find the answer, and so my journey begins.
Where does one go to find themselves? I guess that question can only be answered by the person who asks it, so I went somewhere I am most at ease with myself. In other words I stood up and sat back down in the most quite place that I could find. This solitude allows me to think ;to be myself. I wonder thoughts that are so deep that it would have astounded Aristotle, then I think callow thoughts that make me laugh with myself. while others may go crazy in this quite solitude, I celebrate by dancing with myself. At the end of my adventure i forget everything that I thought about and remember I have a place to be.
The silence has left and I am left wondering were it went, instead it is filled by light. Light from people or a person. Elmo tells me something and I laugh, then I tell him something and he laughs. Everything in that moment feels like it was irrelevant, and my whole life is defined by my reasons for laughing.
Time doesn't pass while the lights are on and my anxiety begins to take control the laughter turn into fatigue and I wish for the time that I could return to the silence.
From the crowd I hear words that make me dream. They are inspiration, passion, and my reason for living, I am suddenly reeled in again. My heart feels like a tightrope walker over a pit. As it walks fireworks explode and excitement emerges however, my heart fears falling from the tight rope to see what the fireworks look like.
I am lost.
My journey felt as if though it was coming to an end when I hit a dead end. As I try and find my way I find a beast of darkness. I fear its presence and I try to convince myself that it would define me. Then I wonder if maybe the light is what is defining me. I don't want to be defined. I am alive, I am changing, I evolve, I grow, I believe, I achieve, I think. So I walk across the tightrope between dark and light choosing to not be defined by either, but to come up with my own definition.
As I make my way back to my path I realize that the answer had been with me all along. I am what I want to be, and I am always changing. Not even I can define myself. My journey ends and all that is left is the trail that shows who I really am.