Let's Get AP Lit

“Aunt Helen” is a short poem illustrating the aftereffects of the narrator’s late-aunt Helen Slingsby’s death. The narrator describes her as being a privileged woman as she lived “near a fashionable square” (Eliot 2) and was “cared for by servants” (Eliot 3). The poem describes how these servants moved on quite quickly after the death of their mistress, lending to the idea of the desire for remembrance, or lack thereof it. When elaborated upon, the story dissolves from an ode to a passed loved one into an example of the unfeeling nature of humans. One line, “now when she died there was silence in heaven / and silence at the end of her street” (Eliot 4-5), can be interpreted either as a nod to the respect that most felt towards her, earning her the right to a “moment of silence”, or it could be representative of the utter impartiality that those around her felt, which is more likely. In the latter situation,  the silence demonstrates the lack of mourning, or the apatheticity (that’s probably not a word), of the characters towards the passing of Helen. Even though these servants had been around her, cared for her, they could care less that she died. Some of them actually seem pleased that she perished, as the housemaid “who had always been so careful while her mistress lived” (Eliot 13) engages in previously hidden scandalous activity with the footman. Everything in their lives proceeds just as before, and “the Dresden clock continued ticking on the mantelpiece” (Eliot 10) regardless that its owner had passed, and Helen receives no acknowledgement for having ever been alive, which is a most unsatisfying death.

2007: In many works of literature, past events can affect, positively or negatively, the present actions, attitudes, or values of a character. Choose a novel or play in which a character must contend with some aspect of the past, either personal or societal. Then write an essay in which you show how the character’s relationship to the past contributes to the meaning of the work as a whole.

Jiliann Brockman
Ms. Brooks
A.P. Literature
17 October 2018

Free Response Question 3

In F. Scott Fitzgerald’s provocative novela, The Great Gatsby, Nick Carraway pensively recounts the different impressions and anecdotes one would have of Mr. Jay Gatsby. Everything is told from an ambiguous perspective as Nick was only a bystander, telling only the tales that he knew. Thus, the entire novel is clouded with an air of suspicion as the unrelenting nature of the past plays a key role in instigating action in the characters, particularly the mysterious nature of Gatsby’s. As Gatsby is the only one to truly know his past, only revealing details through unpromising commentary and mixed emotions, a reminiscent and foreboding tone is accentuated throughout the novel to demonstrate the inability to evade the personal and societal implications of the past.

Early in the Novel, Nick attends his first Gatsby party at which he is bombarded by rumors of Gatsby’s past without even having met him. The rumors that consistently circulate about Gatsby cause Nick, and many other characters, to wonder what kind of past could inspire such a debonair personality. “It was testimony to the romantic speculation he inspired that there were whispers about him” (p.44) , but Gatsby was not once ever really able to elaborate on the whispers that were true. Falsehoods about him killing a man or getting into troublesome business started to paint him in the image of a sinner in society’s standards. He appears as an anxious enigma, always preoccupied with his former memories, trying to escape them. Gatsby reveals to Nick that he doesn’t want him “to get the wrong idea of me from all these stories you hear” (p. 65), emphasizing great character strengths and the desire to be approved of by those he cares for.

Gatsby also attempts to use his past as fuel for becoming a better person, at least in his eyes. He came from nothing, but with his enthrallment with Daisy and her “voice full of money”, he is able to become so much more. Money may not seem like the ideal motivation, and at times he can come across as supercilious, but “poverty made Gatsby ravenously desperate for difference, for possibility”. The beauty and grandeur of Daisy’s personality coupled with her wealth pushes him to strive for greatness throughout his whole life, and he never lets go of this goal. Plus, he simply is in love with that girl, or at least the idea of her, and love can be the most powerful force of all. All the parties and lights and color and his house all symbolize one grand affectation of love for this one girl from his past. And even as he eventually discovers that Daisy is not the same girl for whom he devoted his life to, when she “tumbled short of his dreams”, the allusion of her past-self keeps him going. For “no amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart” (p. 96), and Gatsby will continue to let this haunt him until he’s satisfied with himself.

Fitzgerald also emphasizes the recurrent nature of life and the persistency of the past through his brilliant utilization of the dust symbol. “From dust to dust”, humans always return to the “dust” or the past from which they come from, it is inescapable. Throughout The Great Gatsby, there is a consistent appearance of dust, especially in relation to Gatsby and his aspirations. We see him and his house being constantly well-groomed, avoiding any trace of the dust that could be led into his new life. Dust symbolizes the constant reminder for him to run from his past and strive for his goals. This seems beneficial as a catalyst for him to achieve his dreams, but “it is what preyed on Gatsby, what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams” (p.6) that ultimately leads to his demise. All Gatsby wants is to be good enough, to separate himself from the poverty-stricken boy he had once been, to impress a girl. “‘Can’t repeat the past?’ he cried incredulously. ‘Why of course you can’” (p.116), and so he lives in fear of ever regressing as he knows it may be unavoidable. Dust also represents death, both literal and figurative as in the death of one’s dreams. When Gatsby realizes that all the work he has done for Daisy has been futile, he remains momentarily hopeless. In his house “there was an inexplicable amount of dust everywhere, and the rooms were musty as if they hadn’t been aired for many days”, which illustrates the figurative suffocation and death Gatsby faced as he choked on the dust of his past catching up with him. And soon after, he was overtaken. He dies. The rumors still continue, even more ruthless than before, unnecessarily sullying his reputation with dirt that wasn’t even his. Falsifications and misunderstandings like “‘He threw dust into your eyes just like he did in Daisy’s, but he was a tough one’” (p.178) served to destroy what could have been a beautiful memory of a man who was trying his best. Yet the cycle continues.

Though he found some companionship, Gatsby was alone to face the brutality of his past and the rumors that surrounded it. He strived for greatness, almost achieving the dream life, by the cyclicality of existence caught up with him. He was a strong character, but in the end he couldn’t handle the implications forced upon him by both society and himself. Gatsby ultimately returns to his dust, his past, his origins revealing the indomitable and gloomy reality of memory.

As the time of tricks and treats approaches rapidly, my rigorous A.P. training has led me to analyze the plot devices of many spooky movies. Naturally, I have binge-watched horror movies throughout all of fall break. From Netflix originals such as The Ritual to classics like It, directors utilize thematic elements in an attempt to crank out new and entertaining scares. The Conjuring is one such film that is unnecessarily packed full with as many horror plot devices as possible, of which I will now sardonically elaborate upon for you.

(Spoilers!)

The movie introduces a nice family who moves to a peaceful home in the countryside for a “fresh start” (really original). As the parents and their five daughters roam about the new house, specific camera shots emphasize different objects and places the will obviously become “important” later in the film. One of the little girls has an incredibly creepy music box sitting by a very unique tree, we see the family playing with a specific ball and piano in the basement, and there’s a quick pan over a distinct wardrobe. Plus, several well-placed shots accentuate the appearance of mirrors and clocks always stuck at the time 3:07. And the creepiest hint that something is askew is that fact that their dog wouldn’t come inside the house (as the classic “animals can sense spirits” archetype).

As things get progressively spookier as the film continues, we see each of those thematic devices used as their own unoriginal scare tactics. The music box becomes a demon conduit. The tree is the location of a demon’s suicide. The ball rolls menacingly across the floor while the piano is played by a phantom pianist. The wardrobe is the home of jump-scares. And the mirrors and clocks serve the demon’s purpose. Plus, the dog ends up dead in the first five minutes. Lights flicker and burst, doors slam, and fog rolls to add to the most stereotypical horror film (not even in a satirical way). Every commonplace horror device or archetype that you can think of was most likely in this film. This also created a very predictable atmosphere in which you could guess every point there would be a scare, thus making it incredibly boring. I sat screaming “PLOT DEVICES” rebelliously (but admittedly with my hands covering my eyes) until the end credits rolled…

So even though a movie may be stuffed like a cannoli with every symbol and element that could make it successful, it doesn’t mean that it will be.

 

 

Motif:

Apparent as it is, victory acts as an ever-present symbolic force within George Orwell’s 1984. With Victory Gin, Victory Cigarettes, the “greatest victory in human history — victory, victory, victory!'”(3.6), one cannot escape the drive to win in Oceania. What makes the concept truly peculiar for 1984, though, is the fickle definition in which the characters interpret victory. Winston constantly holds “equivocation in his heart as he wonder[s] whether the news from the front would be of victory or defeat”(3.6), as any news could be interpreted as a loss or a win. A victory for the Party means gaining power, brainwashing a new victim, successfully controlling the future. Whereas a victory for Winston, at least in the beginning of the novel, would involve rebelling against the societal ideals. Yet as the novel continues, as Winston is exposed to his plights and his definition of victory changes, colliding with the party’s and Julia’s ideas, the fallacious equivocation of victory becomes a major plot catalyst.

Title: 

A title can be just as crucial as any other literature element within a novel. It can round out the meaning as a whole or foreshadow a major plot point, but whatever its role may be, a title will always have meaning. Except for 1984, in which the purpose of the name is to actually convey a lack of meaning or importance. Throughout the novel we see an intense presence of numbers and their specific symbolic meanings, but as we reach the end of the novel, O’Brien dissolves this ideal as he reveals that nothing really has any significance besides what the Party says, stating that “2+2=5”. With the title, the readers are led to believe that the year 1984 has some importance, only to have that ripped away later when Winston is unsure if that’s even the year that it is. If the Party was to say it was 2006, he would need to believe. So, in actuality, Orwell sadistically implies that the title, the numbers, everything has no real implications and no real meaning.

Archetype:

In 1984, we see the recurring dichotomy of good vs. evil that appears in every hero’s journey. Sometimes this battle is conveyed by good vs. bad deeds, or by light vs. darkness like in this novel. Usually black represents death or despair and white represents goodness or safety, but due to the paradoxical nature of 1984, the roles are reversed. The Party, or the “bad” in the story, is often portrayed in “light” with O’Brien even stating, in reference to the Party’s MiniLuv compound, “I will meet you in the place where there is no darkness” (3.2). The never-ending brightness during Winston’s torture there does well to amplify the discomfort and lack of privacy that he feels. And although the Party may claim to be righteous in this situation, its lack of “darkness” (which symbolizes hope and protection for most of the characters) proves it to be even more villainous. It’s just as Winston says, the power-hungry “white [the Party] always mates” (3.6).

 

Senior year….

*sigh* We finally made it.

Through all the stress naps and midnight snacks and last-minute study sessions, we have prevailed. Some of us know where we’re going in life, most of us don’t. But this year is our chance to celebrate and rediscover the people we want to be. It’s expected of us to make this year count.

While it may be tempting to enjoy these short months with the people who have become our family, and to go lax with your educational responsibilities because “it won’t matter that much anyway”, the reality is that we have to put as much effort into this year as much as any other.

Here are some helpful tips for keeping a balanced, but fun, senior year.

1.  Be Realistic. You can’t stay out all night at a party and still be able to ace that calculus test the next day. You can’t do three hours worth of homework in one study hall. You can’t survive on four hours of sleep every night. You’re a senior in high school, not a super hero. Be realistic with the goals you set for yourself so that you can continue to balance your social life along with your education. And remember to keep everything in moderation.
2. Stick to your goals. It’s important to set goals for yourself, to give yourself something to strive for. It is also important to stick to those goals, whether they be going to college or starting a business or traveling the world. You’ve been working your whole life, suffering through school, to have a successful life and reach your aspirations. Don’t give up just because of one bad grade or because you don’t feel like putting in the effort.
3. Study. Plain and simple. Keep your grades up as much as they can because they do very much count still.
4. Leave a legacy. Go to dances. Support your sports teams. Go to clubs. Have school spirit. Not only will it look good for any college you apply to, but it gives you something to be excited about in a place that may not always be the most pleasant. Leaving a legacy also allows the future generations, whom look up to you, to know what it means to be a successful senior. Make your mark.
5. It is okay to be scared. As mature as you may feel, you aren’t prepared at all for the responsibilities of “real life”. You may not have any idea what you want to do with your life yet, and that’s okay. Life is difficult and people can be terrifying, so if you feel a little nervous jumping head-first into that, it’s understandable. Just take a deep breath and focus on surviving this last year. Everything will be alright.
6. Have fun. As long as you’re paying attention to your limits and being responsible, then it’s perfectly normal to let loose every once in a while. You’re going to want to go to those parties and see your friends and be a teenager. So go for it!

 

Don’t stress. You’re not a mess. You’ve got this!

We won, but was it worth it?

Emerging from a situation as victorious can become addictive, as the feeling of euphoria that comes with the title of “winner” is greater than any buzz. You become competitive, driven for glory. Nothing but that taste of victory can satisfy you.

And that is what we begin to see within the society of Oceania.

That taste of victory becomes common as they present the characters with an ironic serving of “Victory Gin” and “Victory Cigarettes” everyday. Winning should taste extremely satisfying, but in this dystopia it becomes revolting and inedible as characters like Winston see something like that as a symbol for their hopeless reverence of the Party.

These vices weren’t even Winston’s choice. He didn’t have a chance to develop bad habits or addictions, which are often necessary to release negative energy, because the totalitarian government doesn’t allow for such mutinies. Even the simple guilty pleasures of life are not theirs to own because the Party controls every aspect of life.  Even in an official faction such as the one of the Ministry of Truth, the victories are false. Popularity and money and happiness are faked. Every victory in 1984 becomes an empty victory, or in other words, a loss.

And “Freedom is slavery”.

The paradoxical nature that Orwell chooses demonstrates the deleterious dichotomy which the citizens of Oceania are subjugated to. They must decide between loyalty or vaporization, even though reality could provide many other options. The Party propagates “victory” and “freedom”, but every person eventually ends up as a slave to the government.

No matter how hard the citizens of Oceania try, they cannot escape the always-winning team (the government).

Victory is meaningless.

Bro, why can’t I touch you?

This ain’t the frickin’ seventies.

If you think you can stop me, then you’re all my frickin’ enemies.

Extra words

More work

What the frick is up with that?

I’m gonna touch my lover, so you better never be a rat.

Big Brother:

Watchin’ over all of you.

Sounds like a cult, N.S.A., or even Santa, too.

So just try it,

Make the kids crave for touch.

They’ll start to prostitute themselves, so thank you so much.

Make us

wake up too early

While we’re

out too late.

Give us

factory work

like you

think that’s our fate.

I’m livin’.

I’m human.

My life is my own,

so get up to stop me and I’ll claim your throne.

 

Big Brother…

Love each other…

Big Brother…

You’re the worst sibling ever,

I’m gonna tell mother.

 

(Credit to my doubleplusgoodful comrade, Alex Pfefferle.) 

Family.

The apotheosis of archetypes, is it not? For never, in any story, do we ever leave out an allusion to some sort of family dynamic. Every hero on every quest has someone or something they must get back to. Whether it be an animal or a human, an individual or a community, a parent or a lover or a friend; whatever they may be, they become a driving force for any protagonist. The true catalyst for success is that which they see as their family.

This doesn’t just apply to stories, though.

In our daily lives we strive to find our own causation for action, to find the billowing winds that push our rugged sails, so to speak. And just as in the stories, family seems to maintain its role in real life situations.

Personally, my family never gave me much motivation, except for the fact that I wanted to get away from them. It sounds pretty dismal, but my home has never been an environment in which I could thrive. Family meant my mom and my brother and our apartment and saying hi when we needed to be amicable. Family wasn’t a fairy tale, and it sure as hell wasn’t the introduction to my epic story.  Family wasn’t really anything… Until I found my true family…

“The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.” I had never dreamed that family could become what you make of it, but it really is your choice who you give the privilege of your time to. The bloody bonds you form in “battle” mean so much more than who you were born to. And if you fight those battles alongside your relatives? That’s really good for you, but I’m going to stick with my platonic soulmates over here.

I’ve found people who make me feel truly blessed, and I haven’t even been to a Church in two years. I’ve begun this last year of my high school career with a small group of people who I’m pretty sure are my soulmates, as cheesy as it sounds: three best friends and a boyfriend who make my heart skip like a toddler after a birthday party. They’ve come into my life, and I know they are here to stay. My loves, this family I have made my own, will push me towards a brighter future.

“It’s not the future that you’re afraid of. It’s repeating the past that makes you anxious.” -unknown

Eveline is a young girl ready to run off with her new sailor husband. She has consented to leave behind all she has known for a chance at her own life, and Frank can give her everything she’s ever needed: love, shelter, support.  Yet, Eveline can’t escape the nagging voice, maybe her mother’s voice,  in the back of her mind that calls her to escape.

A perfect little wife, “keeping the home together”, just as her mother said: that’s what Eveline thinks she wants, and she could find that by following her new husband. The drive to be perfect everyday, a never ending loop of blissful monotony, would keep her from the same fate as her mother. Never would she be a victim. “Why should she be unhappy?”

Coming from a  psychoanalytic perspective, though, Eveline would never truly be content with that eventual “life of commonplace sacrifices closing in final craziness”. As believed by Sigmund Freud, the “conscious was influenced by childhood events… involving relationships with parents”, and our young protagonist was never truly able to release the animosity spewing from the wound that her mother’s absence had left. Eveline can never lead that same life that lead to her mother’s spiral into insanity, as much as she cares not to admit it. Her Superego drive for perfection, along with the realistic expectations of her Ego, had kept her steady. At least until she must jump headfirst into a life she truly doesn’t want, which at that point her subconscious (her basic impulse, her Id) screams for her to run. Despite all Frank had done for her, she truly could not stay, demonstrating how desperately she needed to be away from the situation.

In the end, “her eyes gave no him no sign of love or farewell or recognition” as her unconscious had already dominated. Her animal instinct had urged her to survive, and the only way she could survive was to escape. She would not become a stereotypical “wifey” archetype. “Humans are motivated… by desires… of which they are unaware”, and Eveline let her needs and fears drive her to where she could be happiest, even if she will never be able to admit it.

 

The Chronicles of Narnia is a popular series of novels (and movies) in which the Bible is used as a strong motivation for the symbolic characteristics of the plot. It is a well-known fact the C.S. Lewis was heavily influenced by religion in his writing, leading to several prominent biblical parallels. Originally the Narnia books weren’t intended to have religious connotations, but they unintentionally worked their way in. The most iconic work in the series (and the one I will be referencing) is the second, titled The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, in which the Christian story of Jesus’ death and resurrection (along with other allusions) can be seen. The use of the Bible in this story is mainly to demonstrate the power of redemption and the triumph of good over evil.

The story of Original Sin, in which Adam and Eve eat from the Tree of Knowledge releasing sin into the world, is recreated through the plot arch of Edmund. Edmund eats a Turkish Delight, a “forbidden fruit”, from the White Witch, the “snake”. This then symbolizes Edmund’s loss of innocence and betrayal of all that is good in that world.

Edmund is again used for religious parallelism as a Judas Iscariot character. The Pevensie siblings unite with the Beaver family for a meal, representing the Apostles of Jesus during the last supper. (This can also be seen as a act of Communion in which the characters all get to know each other.) During this meal, Edmund (Judas) can think of nothing more than escaping the meal in order to betray the Jesus figures.

The most apparent connection to religion is seen in Aslan, the godlike or Jesus character. Firstly, Jesus was known often as the “Lion of Judah”, making it fitting that Aslan takes a symbolic form of a lion. He leads the children as his Apostles, teaching them the ways of the “good”. Aslan also chooses be a martyr to save the traitor, Edmund, effectively pardoning him for his sins. He is beaten and ridiculed before his ultimate “crucifixion” on the Stone Table.  Just as with Jesus, Aslan is absent from his place of death and is found later to be resurrected (“[…] when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor’s stead […] Death itself would start working backwards.”). They are both equal symbols of peace and prosperity.