Plight of the Code Hero in the Works of Ernest Hemingway...

The Plight of the Code Hero in the Works of Ernest Hemingway In his novels Ernest Hemingway suggests a code of behavior for his characters to follow: one that demands courage in difficult situations, strength in the face of adversity, and grace under pressure. Termed the code hero, this character is driven by the principal ideals of honor, courage, and endurance in a life of stress, misfortune, and pain. Despite the heros fight against life in this violent and disorderly world, he is rarely the victor. The code that the hero follows demands that he act honorably in this uphill battle and find fulfillment by becoming a man and proving his worth. Hemingway himself lived his life trying to show how strong and unlimited†¦show more content†¦In the novella, The Old Man and the Sea, Santiago is an unlucky fisherman who has not caught anything in 84 days. Yet he sets out alone on the 85th day to try again. For three days he struggles with a large marlin which he finally kills; but, despite his best efforts, he loses the fish to repeate d shark attacks. Still, Santiago returns to his small fishing village with the skeleton of the fish. He achieves a spiritual victory instead of a material one, surviving the ordeal of battle, and arriving with proof of his struggle strapped to his boat-the skeleton of the fish. Rather than a huge profit from such a large fish, he gains the admiration of the town for his valorous fight. Violence and disorder prevail, but Santiago honorably defends his catch in the midst of what will be a losing battle. Oscar Wilde once said, Ordinary riches can be stolen, real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you (n. pag.). Santiago finds fulfillment by proving his manhood and his worth to both the town and Manolin, a local boy who admires him greatly. Hemingways description of Santiago includes symbolism of Christ, aShow MoreRelated Review Of Ernest Hemingway And Writings Essay1503 Words   |  7 Pages Review of Ernest Hemingway and Writings nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;Ernest Miller Hemingway was an American novelest and short-story writer whose writings and personal life exerted a profound influence on American writers of his time and thereafter. Many of his works are regarded as American classics, and some have subsequently been made into motion pictures. A review of Hemingway reveals many interesting points about his life, about the influences upon his works, and of the the themes and stylesRead More Biography of Ernest Hemingway Essay3737 Words   |  15 PagesBiography of Ernest Hemingway Certainly there is no hunting like the hunting of man and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never really care for anything else thereafter. You will meet them doing various things with resolve, but their interest rarely holds because after the other thing ordinary life is as flat as the taste of wine when the taste buds have been burned off your tongue. (On the Blue Water in Esquire, April 1936) A legendary novelist, short-storyRead MoreThe Sonnet Form: William Shakespeare6305 Words   |  26 Pagesscheme. Free verse is not, however, loose or unrestricted: its rules of composition are as strict and difficult as traditional verse, for they rely on less evident rhythmic patterns to give the poem shape. Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass is a seminal work of free verse. Line and Stanza Poetry generally is divided into lines of verse. A grouping of lines, equivalent to a paragraph in prose, is called a stanza. On the printed page, line breaks normally are used to separate stanzas from one another.Read MoreANALIZ TEXT INTERPRETATION AND ANALYSIS28843 Words   |  116 PagesAny literary work is unique. It is created by the author in accordance with his vision and is permeated with his idea of the world. The reader’s interpretation is also highly individual and depends to a great extent on his knowledge and personal experience. That’s why one cannot lay down a fixed â€Å"model† for a piece of critical appreciation. Nevertheless, one can give information and suggestions that may prove helpful. PLOT The Elements of Plot When we refer to the plot of a work of fiction, then

The Giver by Lois Lowry - 869 Words

Expository Essay Through our society we are all raised up to be independent and unique individuals such as being ourselves and expressing who each of us are to the world. However, in the book The Giver by Lois Lowry, everyone is raised to count on one another and everyone must look and act the same. Our society differs from Jonas’s in many ways, such as the family units, birthdays, and the way we each learn about our past. In the book The Giver, our society and Jonas’s differ in terms of the family units. On page 8, Jonas’s mother tells Lily about the kids in the family units as, â€Å"Two children – one male, one female – to each family unit. It was written very clearly in the rules.† This quote explains how the parents are only allowed to have one male and one female – no more, no less. This differs from our society because our family unit can consist of many more or less than two children and the parents do not have to have one of each gender in the family. Also, in the quote, mother said, â€Å"to each family unit†, which makes it sound like the children are given to the parents, which is exactly right. The mothers of the family units in Jonas’s society are not allowed to give birth. Instead, there are birthmothers who give birth to the children and those childrenShow MoreRelatedThe Giver By Lois Lowry940 Words   |  4 PagesLois Lowry’s 1993 young adult novel â€Å"The Giver† captured audiences worldwide with its fascinating characters and dystopian society. The book was long due a film adaption, which finally came in 2014 from director Phillip Noyce. While critics remained mixed about the film itself, the movie offers a decent adaption of its source material, keep ing in mind its original themes of pain, pleasure, and memory, but strays away in certain areas. Both the film and novel carry the same themes that have madeRead MoreThe Giver, By Lois Lowry1796 Words   |  8 Pages Memories need to be shared,† words from Lois Lowry in her book The Giver (154). The Giver focuses on the protagonist, Jonas and the world he lives in. In his community everything is perfect and under control, avoiding war, fear or pain. The people are forbidden to make their own decisions as they’re made for them by the community. Throughout the book, Jonas learns the truth on how they are living and his feelings turn. In The Giver, written by Lois Lowry, the theme of the significance of sharingRead MoreThe Giver By Lois Lowry1949 Words   |  8 Pagesbeliefs or personal values that they insist on imposing over the surrounding community. Such is the case with Lois Lowry s The Giver, a fictional story of a society without emotions, arguments, or differences amongst people, where equality is the ultimate goal. The story revolves around 12-year-old Jona s, who is chosen to become the Receiver of Memories, which would be given to him by the Giver, a historian of humanity s past. His lessons force him to confront feelings for the first time and the growingRead MoreThe Giver By Lois Lowry784 Words   |  4 PagesTitle: The Giver Author: Lois Lowry Illustrator: No illustrator Genre: The genre of the book is scientific fiction. It is scientific fiction because Lois Lowry made a setting where everything is unusual than the things we do now. There are birthmothers, rarely Receivers of Memory ( which Jonas turns out to be ), and other special jobs in the community center. Point of View: The point of view in the story is third person because if there was a first person, the narrator ( which is a person that isRead MoreThe Giver By Lois Lowry884 Words   |  4 PagesGiver Essay Agustin Fitipaldi Bervejillo In the book The Giver, by Lois Lowry. The main character Jonas is not like others in his utopian community. He is a normal 12 year old boy and is living in the same old community of sameness. Until one day he gets selected to be the Receiver of Memory and begins to experience things on a different way because of the memories being transmitted to him. As the changes become more evident, Jonas begins to see flawsRead MoreThe Giver By Lois Lowry1334 Words   |  6 Pages Ella Smailn How has the character Jonas from Lois Lowry s book The Giver developed over the course of the novel? Word count: 1311 Louis Lowry’s The Giver, written in 1993 is a captivating, prize-winning novel. It is set in a community, which is first presented as the perfect world, an utopian society. The novel follows a boy called Jonas, who as the novel progresses sees the utopia more like a dystopian. This community has eliminated any pain the society would have byRead MoreThe Giver by Lois Lowry959 Words   |  4 PagesThe giver by Lois Lowry was an interesting book to say the least. In the beginning you are lead to believe these are normal kids and characters, possibly in the future, but in pretty much the same state of mind as our definition of â€Å"human† today. As the book goes on, you are slowly let in on details, like the characters can not see color, and that the parents are not biological parents, and everything is organized and decided for the characters in the book. The author did a great job of slowly bringingRead MoreThe Giver By Lois Lowry1554 Words   |  7 PagesBlock 6 Second Independent Project: Book Report 10/5/14 The Giver In this essay, I am going to report about the book The Giver by Lois Lowry. Jonas, a twelve-year-old boy, is the main character of the book. The book describes a seemingly indestructible society, with absolute order and rules. Jonas happens to be chosen as the next Receiver of Memory on his twelve year old ceremony. After receiving part of the memories from the The Giver and discovering the truth behind this â€Å"perfect† community, heRead MoreThe Giver By Lois Lowry1313 Words   |  6 Pagesis no pain, no prejudice, no emotion, and no detestation. Lois Lowry gives a vivid description of a community where everything is equal, everyone is just as important as another, and life choices are made by only one individual. In the book The giver by Lois Lowry, it expresses the exact opposite of Marx’s most important ideas which is a prime example of what people will do if they were forced to live a certain way. In the book The Giver, it tells the story of a perfect world. Everyone there is happyRead MoreThe Giver By Lois Lowry962 Words   |  4 Pages In Lois Lowry’s The Giver the community feel free but they are restricted by the rules of this society. Their individuality has been taken away along with their emotions, precision of language has taken control and the rules have brainwashed the community. Is it worth living in a society with rules and restrictions like these. Throughout The Giver, Lowry attempts to awaken each and every reader to the dangers that exist when people opt for conformity over individuality and for unexamined security

Succubus Dreams CHAPTER 4 Free Essays

The next day, I went to the address on Dante’s business card. It was in Rainier Valley, which wasn’t exactly rundown but wasn’t upwardly mobile either. The directions led to a narrow shop jammed in between a barber and a shady-looking convenience store. We will write a custom essay sample on Succubus Dreams CHAPTER 4 or any similar topic only for you Order Now PSYCHIC hung in red neon letters in the window. The â€Å"I† had burned out. Underneath it, a handwritten sign read: PALM READING TAROT CARDS. I stepped through the door, making bells ring. The interior proved to be as barren as the exterior. A narrow counter flanked one wall. The rest of the small, stark space was empty, save for a round table covered in red velvet that had cigarette burns on it. A tacky crystal ball sat on top. This place was a wasteland compared to Erik’s warm, inviting shop. â€Å"Just a minute,† a voice called from an open doorway in the back. â€Å"I’ve just got to – â€Å" A man entered the room and stopped when he saw me. He was about six-foot, with black hair pulled back in a ponytail. Two days worth of facial hair covered his face, and he wore jeans and a plain black T-shirt. Early forties, maybe, and pretty cute. He looked me over from head to toe and gave me a sly, knowing smile. â€Å"Well, hello. What do we have here?† He tilted his head, still studying me. â€Å"Not human, that’s for sure. Demon? No, not strong enough. Vampire? No†¦not this time of day.† â€Å"I†¦Ã¢â‚¬  I stopped, surprised that he’d sensed something in me. He had no immortal signature; he was definitely human. He must be like Erik, I realized. A mortal who could sense the immortal world, though he didn’t have enough skill to pinpoint what I was exactly. Deciding there was no point in subterfuge, I said, â€Å"I’m a succubus.† He shook his head. â€Å"No, you aren’t.† â€Å"Yes, I am.† â€Å"You aren’t.† I was a bit surprised to be having this conversation. â€Å"I am too.† â€Å"No. Succubi are flame-eyed and bat-winged. Everyone knows that. They don’t wear jeans and sweaters. At the very least, you should have a bigger chest. What are you, 34B or something?† â€Å"C,† I said indignantly. â€Å"If you say so.† â€Å"Look, I am a succubus. I can prove it.† I let my form change, shifting through several different female variations before returning to my usual one. â€Å"See?† â€Å"Well, I’ll be damned.† I had a feeling he was playing with me. â€Å"Are you Dante?† â€Å"For now.† He approached and shook my hand, holding on to it. He flipped it over. â€Å"You here for a palm reading? I’ll show you how to shape-shift your hand to get a good future.† I took my hand back. â€Å"No, thanks. I’m here because I have some questions†¦questions that Erik Lancaster thought you might be able to answer.† Dante’s smile dropped. He rolled his eyes and walked over to the counter. â€Å"Oh. Him.† â€Å"What’s that supposed to mean? Erik’s my friend.† Dante leaned his back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. â€Å"Of course he’s your friend. He’s everyone’s friend. Fucking boy scout. If he could have shaken his holier-than-thou attitude and worked with me, we could have made a fortune by now.† I remembered what Erik had said about Dante being a con artist and a Hell-bound person. I didn’t pick up any evil vibes off him, but there was a definite abrasiveness to his attitude that made Erik’s assessment more plausible. â€Å"Erik has standards,† I declared. Dante laughed. â€Å"Oh, great. A holier-than-thou succubus. This is going to be fun.† â€Å"Look, can you just answer my questions? It won’t take long.† â€Å"Sure,† he said. â€Å"I’ve got time – at least until the next rush of customers.† The bitter tone in his voice as he gestured to the empty room indicated that there hadn’t been a rush in a very long time. â€Å"I had a dream the other night,† I explained. â€Å"And when I woke up, all my energy was gone.† â€Å"You’re a succubus. Supposedly. That kind of thing happens.† â€Å"I wish everyone would stop saying that! This wasn’t normal. And I’d been with a man the night before. I was charged up, so to speak.† â€Å"You do anything afterward that would have depleted the energy?† Everyone kept asking that too. â€Å"No. I just went to bed. But the dream†¦it was really strange. I don’t know how to explain it. Really, really vivid. I’ve never felt anything like it.† â€Å"What was it about?† â€Å"A, um, dishwasher.† Dante sighed. â€Å"Did someone pay you to come here and mess with me?† Through gritted teeth, I related the dream. â€Å"That’s it?† he asked when I finished. â€Å"Yup.† â€Å"Lame dream.† â€Å"Do you know what it means?† â€Å"Probably that you need to fix your dishwasher.† â€Å"It isn’t broken!† He straightened up. â€Å"Sorry. Can’t help you then.† â€Å"Erik said this was your specialty.† â€Å"It is, I suppose. But, sometimes a dream is just a dream. You sure you don’t want me to read your palm? It’s all bullshit, but I can at least make something up so you feel like the trip wasn’t wasted.† â€Å"No, I want to know about my fucking dream. How can it be just a dream if I woke up with no energy?† Dante walked back over to me and flicked a piece of escaped hair out of his face. â€Å"I don’t know. You aren’t giving me enough to go on. How many times has it happened?† â€Å"Just the one time.† â€Å"Then it may be just a fluke, kiddo.† I turned toward the door. â€Å"Well, thanks for the ‘help.'† Hurrying over to my side, Dante caught my arm. â€Å"Hey, wait. You want to go get a drink now?† â€Å"I – what?† â€Å"I’ll risk upsetting the masses and close up shop for the day. There’s a great bar around the corner. Draft Budweiser – only a dollar a glass during happy hour. My treat.† I scoffed. I didn’t know what was more absurd. That Dante thought I’d go out with him or that he thought I’d drink Budweiser. His attractiveness wasn’t enough to make up for his weird personality. â€Å"Sorry. I have a boyfriend.† â€Å"I’m not looking to be your boyfriend. Cheap sex is fine with me.† I met his eyes. They were gray, similar to Carter’s but without the silvery hue. I expected a joke here, but despite the perpetual smirk, Dante appeared to be perfectly serious. â€Å"Why on earth do you think I’d have cheap sex with you? Do I look that easy?† â€Å"You say you’re a succubus. You’re easy by definition. And even without the bat-wings and flame-eyes, you’re pretty cute.† â€Å"Aren’t you worried about your soul?† Even if he was as corrupt as Erik had insinuated – and I still wasn’t really seeing that – Dante would take some kind of hit from sleeping with me. All mortals did. Of course, I’d met plenty of men – good and evil alike – who’d been willing to risk their souls for sex. â€Å"Nope. My soul’s pretty far gone. This would just be for fun. Look, if you want to skip the beer, we can just get right to it. I’ve always wanted to do it on the table over there.† â€Å"Un-fucking-believable.† I pushed open the door. â€Å"Oh, come on,† he pleaded. â€Å"I’m pretty good. And hey, maybe your boyfriend’s poor sexual performance is what’s stressing you out and taking away your energy.† â€Å"Not likely,† I told him. â€Å"We don’t have sex.† There was a moment’s silence, then Dante threw back his head and laughed. â€Å"Did it occur to you that maybe that’s stressing you out? Clearly the dishwasher is a metaphor for your broken sex life, which then forces you to wash dishes ‘by hand.'† I left, heading back to the bookstore where I could get a little respect. Some dream expert Dante had turned out to be. I could see now why Erik didn’t really like him. I was also starting to wonder if maybe everyone was right. Maybe I had mentally burned myself out. Maybe the dream was really just a dream. I was almost at the bookstore when I got a phone call. â€Å"Miss Kincaid?† asked a pleasant female voice. â€Å"This is Karen from the Seattle Children’s Alliance, calling to confirm your participation in our auction this week.† â€Å"Your what?† There was a pause. â€Å"Our charity date auction, to raise money for the Alliance.† I was still baffled. â€Å"Um, sounds like a great cause, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.† I heard papers being ruffled. â€Å"We have you listed as a volunteer.† â€Å"For what, to be auctioned off for a date?† â€Å"Yes. It looks like†¦here we are. Your name was submitted by Dr. Mitchell.† I sighed. â€Å"Let me call you back.† I hung up and dialed Hugh. â€Å"Hey, Dr. Mitchell. You volunteered me to be auctioned off?† â€Å"It’s not that different from what you usually do,† he argued. â€Å"And it’s for charity.† â€Å"I buy the peace-on-Earth-and-good-will-toward-men thing from Peter and Cody – but not from you. You don’t care about those kids.† â€Å"I care about the group’s director,† Hugh said. â€Å"She’s a fucking fox. I get some high quality candidates to raise money, and I can probably get her in bed.† â€Å"You’re using a children’s charity to further your sex life. That’s horrible. And why didn’t you ask Tawny? If anyone needs a date, she does.† â€Å"Her? Jesus Christ. It’d be a disaster. We’re trying to make money here. Do you hate kids or something?† â€Å"No, but I don’t have time to do it. I’ll write them a check.† I hung up on his protests, just as I turned onto Queen Anne Avenue. I was a little early for my shift and decided to stop home and grab an apple and a granola bar. Last time I’d worked, we’d been so busy that I’d skipped my lunch break. I figured that this time, I should come prepared. My immortality wouldn’t let me starve to death, but I could still get lightheaded and weak. Halfway down the hall to my apartment, I felt a shock wave of crystalline goodness. Angelic auras. I opened my door and found the whole gang: Carter, Yasmine, Whitney, Joel, and Vincent. None of them spoke; they were all just watching me expectantly. The angels would have sensed me long before I sensed them. They all sat in my living room, casually occupying my sofa and chairs as though they weren’t a host of heavenly warriors. Well, not all of them were casual. Joel sat as stiff and formal as he had the first time I met him. â€Å"Oh, man,† I said, shutting the door behind me. â€Å"It’s just like that They Might Be Giants song.† Vincent grinned. â€Å"‘She’s an Angel’?† I nodded. â€Å"Somewhere they’re meeting on a pinhead – â€Å" † – calling you an angel, calling you the nicest things,† he finished. â€Å"What are you doing here?† demanded Joel, interrupting our jam session. â€Å"Or not so nice,† I muttered. I turned from Vincent and glared at Joel. â€Å"I live here, remember?† â€Å"We’re having a meeting,† he said. â€Å"Hey, when you asked if Vince could stay here, you never said anything about making this your top secret tree house headquarters. I don’t care if you guys hold your choir practice here or whatever, but don’t try to throw me out while you do.† â€Å"Sorry,† said Yasmine. I did a double-take. Apologies from angels were about as rare as from demons. From the look on his face, Joel was about as surprised as me. â€Å"We probably should have asked first. We can go somewhere else.† She leaned over my coffee table and started gathering up newspapers. Interesting. Apparently Vincent’s fixation with the news was more than just a personal hobby. I glanced back up at Yasmine and tried to act like I hadn’t noticed anything. â€Å"No, it’s fine. I’m actually heading right back out. I just came by for some food.† She pushed strands of long, black hair out of her face. They’d slipped out of her ponytail. â€Å"You want Vince to make you something?† He turned to her, startled, wearing an astonished, yet still-amused look. â€Å"What am I, your personal assistant?† â€Å"Not with the kind of respect you show us,† she grumbled. I hid a smile. â€Å"Thanks, but I’m fine. I don’t have the time.† â€Å"Good,† said Joel. â€Å"Then hurry up.† Whitney sighed and looked a little embarrassed – but not enough to contradict him. Yasmine had no such qualms and elbowed him in the ribs. â€Å"What was that for?† he exclaimed. â€Å"You have no manners,† she scolded. Grinning broadly, I went to the kitchen and found an apple. When I opened the cupboard to look for my granola bars, I found the box empty. â€Å"Hey,† I said, carrying it out to the living room. â€Å"Did somebody eat these? I had two left this morning.† Carter spoke up for the first time. â€Å"I was hungry.† I stared at him, incredulous. â€Å"You ate both of them?† â€Å"I was hungry,† he repeated, not looking contrite in the least. â€Å"Does it ever stop with you?† I exclaimed. â€Å"First the Christmas tree, now this? You didn’t even throw the box away!† â€Å"I was hoping you’d forgotten about the Christmas tree. That was an accident, and you know it.† I sighed loudly and put the apple in my purse. â€Å"I’m going to the grocery store later,† said Vincent helpfully. Aubrey jumped up and settled herself between him and Yasmine. Both their hands instantly moved to pet her. Aubrey gave me a smug cat look at the attention. â€Å"I’ll pick you up some more if you want.† â€Å"Pick him up some more so that he doesn’t go rob the food bank next. See you guys later. No wild parties while I’m gone.† Carter, Yasmine, and Vincent laughed; Whitney and Joel didn’t. When I’d shut the door behind me, I paused in the hall, wishing there was some way to spy on angels. There wasn’t, unfortunately. I couldn’t even hide from them. They could mask their signatures from me, but not vice versa. In fact, they all knew I hadn’t left yet. Annoyed, I headed downstairs, curiosity burning in me. Why were they all here? Why did they need a human? And what role did the newspapers play? Figuring out what angels did with their time was always difficult. With my side, it was pretty straightforward. We were always looking to commit souls to Hell and did so in a well-monitored, micro-managed manner. Heaven’s forces moved in mysterious ways, though. Carter’s purpose in Seattle was a continual puzzle for my friends and me since none of us ever saw any evidence of him doing anything particularly noble, aside from sharing his cigarettes. He did always show a lot of interest in my love life and was quick to dispense cryptic pieces of advice, but I suspected that was more curiosity than altruism. Work was only a few blocks away. Since it wasn’t raining, I simply walked down there. As soon as I entered Emerald City, Maddie approached me, an uncomfortable expression on her face. â€Å"Hey,† she said uneasily. â€Å"I, um, need your advice. I’m going to a wedding tomorrow and don’t know what to wear. This is so stupid†¦but could you take a look at my options?† Peering around, I decided the store could function without us for ten minutes, particularly since it had taken Maddie a fair amount of courage to broach this subject. I’d never actually seen her dress up before. â€Å"Okay. Let’s see what you’ve got.† We went back to my office, and she tried on three different dresses. No doubt Seth would have been amused to know she was changing clothes while I was in there. When she’d finished, I gave my honest opinion. â€Å"They don’t do you justice.† â€Å"Which is a nice way of saying they look awful on me.† Maddie balled one of the dresses up and tossed it to the floor. â€Å"I hate this sort of thing. How can I write about women’s issues and not be any good at them?† â€Å"Well†¦you write about different kinds of issues. The problem here is that you’re wearing clothes that are too big for you.† Her dark eyes widened in surprise. â€Å"I’m big. They’re loose. They hide it.† Maddie wasn’t big, not really. She was a size ten or twelve, if I had to guess, and her short height emphasized that a little. But her curves were all proportioned correctly, and she had a very pretty face. Of course, compared to the anorexic models so popular among humans today, I could understand her attitude. â€Å"You are not big. But those dresses make you look it. Something smaller’s going to make you look better.† â€Å"I can’t wear tight clothes.† â€Å"They don’t have to be tight. They just have to fit.† Maddie sighed and ran her hands down the sides of her thighs. â€Å"You don’t know what it’s like,† she said, the slightest accusatory note in her voice. â€Å"You’re beautiful and tiny. Not all of us have the luxury of looking perfect all the time.† â€Å"No one looks perfect all the time,† I argued. â€Å"I certainly don’t.† Okay, I kind of did. â€Å"You’ve just got to find the right things. And really, half of beauty is attitude. You feel sexy, then you are sexy.† Maddie looked dubious. â€Å"I don’t think it’s that easy. Guys aren’t exactly chomping at the bit to ask me out. You know how long it’s been since I was on a date?† â€Å"That goes back to attitude,† I said. â€Å"Look, I don’t mean to sound harsh, but you don’t always give off friendly vibes. I mean, you do to me. And to Doug. Sort of. But really, that’s it.† â€Å"I know I’m not the best with people,† she admitted, crossing her arms over her chest. â€Å"But I just can’t do meaningless small talk.† â€Å"Yeah, but you still have to do some talking. It’s a fact of life.† â€Å"Well, if guys came and actually talked to me, maybe I could try. But they aren’t really lining up.† She gestured at her body. â€Å"Because of this. And now we’ve come full circle.† â€Å"What if I could guarantee you a date?† I asked, suddenly inspired. Her lips quirked into a smile. It instantly transformed her face. â€Å"Are you asking me out?† â€Å"No, but someone else will, I’m certain of it. You just have to let me pick out your outfit.† â€Å"I’m not wearing anything slutty.† â€Å"It won’t be,† I promised. I stood up from my chair. â€Å"Look, I’ve gotta run. Wear the yellow dress to the wedding. With a belt. I’ll give you details later about the date plan.† She left, looking skeptical, and I threw myself into work. The rest of the day flew by. I never saw Seth in the caf? ¦ and presumed he was working at home today. We had a date later on, so I knew I’d see him then. Since becoming manager, I spent a lot of time holed up in my office, which was hard on the social part of me. But, every once in a while, I got to escape to cover someone’s break or arrange a display. While near the self-help section, a guy carrying some books stumbled near me and dropped the stack. Hoping he hadn’t tripped on a bump in the carpet and was planning a lawsuit, I hastily knelt down to help him. â€Å"No, no,† he said, cheeks burning. He was the age I looked, late twenties. Early thirties at most. â€Å"You don’t have to†¦Ã¢â‚¬  I was already stacking them, though, and quickly understood his discomfort. They were books on all sorts of fetishes – in particular, exhibitionism and voyeurism. â€Å"Oh God,† he said, as I handed him the books. â€Å"I’m so embarrassed. I feel like such a pervert.† â€Å"It’s okay,† I told him. â€Å"It’s your business, and we’ve all got our†¦ah, preferences.† He looked mildly reassured but still clearly wanted to bolt. There was a wedding ring on his hand, and I expected I was dealing with a fetish he probably didn’t share with his wife. Honestly, I was surprised he’d resorted to actual books when he could find a hundred times more sources on the Internet. Most likely he and his wife shared a home computer, and he feared discovery. It was Georgina the succubus, not Georgina the bookstore manager, who asked the next question. Georgina the bookstore manager would have gotten fired for it if caught. â€Å"You like the watching or the doing?† I kept my voice low. He swallowed, studied me for mockery, and must have decided I was serious. â€Å"The, um, doing.† For half a breath, I considered going for it with him. I needed the energy, badly. He’d be an easy mark, consumed with a secret obsession he couldn’t fulfill anywhere else. But, it’d mean doing it in this body, and I didn’t like that. This was my preferred, everyday shape. I didn’t want to sully it with business. So, I smiled and sent him on his way, silently wishing him well in fulfilling his sexual desires. I called Seth later while I was walking home from work to confirm our date. We were going to meet over at the Pacific Northwest Ballet to see The Nutcracker. While he appreciated the performing arts, getting him to go out while his book’s ending loomed had been a Herculean task, and I still couldn’t believe he’d agreed. He’d only conceded after I’d promised he could show up at the last possible minute. Only, we apparently had different definitions of â€Å"last possible minute† because when the lights went down, he still hadn’t surfaced. The ballet started, and I craned my neck each time I heard one of the doors open. The chair beside me stayed empty, unfortunately. It was a sign of my agitation that I missed a lot of the performance and couldn’t appreciate Clara’s dream – a dream as vivid for her as mine had been for me. I loved the ballet. I’d danced in a few shows over my lifetime and never got tired of watching graceful muscles and elaborate costumes. At intermission, I turned on my cell phone and saw that Seth had tried to call. I dialed him back without even listening to the voice message. When he answered, I said, â€Å"Please tell me a crazy fan kidnapped you and broke your legs with a sledgehammer.† â€Å"Um, no. Didn’t you get my message?† â€Å"Well, no, seeing as my phone said it came in a half-hour ago. I didn’t have it on because I was busy watching this thing. You know, The Nutcracker?† He sighed. â€Å"I’m sorry. I couldn’t leave. I was too wrapped up. I thought if I, uh, gave you enough notice†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Notice? This was more like a belated birthday card. Six months after the fact.† Silence fell, and I felt some satisfaction in knowing he was quietly acknowledging his wrongdoing. â€Å"I’m sorry, Thetis. It was†¦I shouldn’t have done it, busy or not. I’m really sorry. You know how I get.† Now I sighed. He was so damned sincere and adorable that I had a hard time holding a grudge. This wasn’t, however, the first time he’d stood me up or otherwise neglected our social life. Sometimes I wondered if I allowed him too much indulgence. I spent so much time worrying about my transgressions taking advantage of him; maybe I was the one being walked over without even realizing it. â€Å"You want to meet up after the show?† I asked, trying not to sound mad. â€Å"Cody invited me out to the bar with them. We could hang out there for a while.† â€Å"Um†¦well, no.† â€Å"No?† The annoyance I’d tried to quell shot its head back up again. â€Å"I just forgave you for standing me up and wasting the money I paid on your ticket, and now you’re turning down my conciliatory offer?† â€Å"Look†¦I really am sorry, but watching you and your friends get drunk isn’t exactly appealing.† I sat for a moment, too stunned to respond. He’d spoken in his typically mild way, but I’d heard the slightest bit of derision underscoring his words. Seth didn’t drink. He always tolerated my excesses good-naturedly, but I suddenly wondered if they irritated him after all. His meaning came through as haughtiness to me. â€Å"Sorry we’re not up to your standards. God knows we can’t expect you to do anything outside of your comfort zone.† â€Å"Please, stop. I don’t want to fight with you,† he said with exasperation. â€Å"I’m really, really, really sorry about all this. I didn’t mean to stand you up. You know that.† The lights flashed, signaling the end of intermission. â€Å"I’ve got to go.† â€Å"Will you†¦will you please come over tonight? Go out with your friends, let me finish, and then I’ll make things up to you. I promise. I†¦I have an early Christmas present for you.† The hesitancy in his voice softened my heart. A little. â€Å"Yeah. Okay. It might be really late when I get there.† â€Å"I’ll wait up.† We said our good-byes and disconnected. I watched the rest of the show in a grumpy mood and decided drinking and bitching with the gang couldn’t come a moment too soon. How to cite Succubus Dreams CHAPTER 4, Essay examples

Machines Are They Helpful Or Too Much Trouble Essay Example For Students

Machines: Are They Helpful Or Too Much Trouble? Essay The historiography and various phases of the Industrial Revolution werevery important. Population increase and the expansion of capital, credit andcommerce were one of the phases. The role of entrepreneurs, workers andinventions in boosting production were another phase. Textiles, coal, transportand public services started becoming of value to people. The social consequencesincluded women and children working in factories and mines. Hard livingconditions, crowded rooms, and many diseases. There were many positive effects, new inventions, that helped madeliving comfortable, and saved many lives. A vaccination was created saving manylives, telephones helped people to communicate, light bulbs gave light at nightand when rain was falling. As people needed employment, they traveled to Londonto find work, which caused the population to increase. Developers built multistory building(apartments), and row houses making streets less crowded, and gavethe people a newfound wealth and security. Steam engines made it easy totransport goods, the cotton gin made it easier to clean cotton, and made moremoney. Then technical schools began to develop, helping young people finishgrammar school. Women also started working, they were very obedient and menstarted giving them more respect. Along with positive, were also negative. Most people worked twelve tofourteen hours a day, six days a week, they had to pay constant attention to themachines and risked losing limbs in the machines. Child labor was anotherproblem, they usually worked from 6 am to 7 p.m., getting paid only 10 percentwages of men to children. They would be severely beaten, and usually wasdeformed from machines. Many working-class children were not able to attendschools, because they couldnt afford clothes. Women usually spent long hoursaway from home and were unable to take care of children. They usually had adeformed chest or rib from the machines, and sometimes their hair and long skirtwere caught in the machines. Some people had to work in mines, the mines weredamp and ark, workers risked suffocation from the dust and drowning fromunderground floods. As population grew, people moved into urban areas. This wasa very big problem, crimes and diseases increased, sometimes twenty families hadto share th e same toilets and water pumps. The industrial revolution had many problems, but here are some solutionsI would propose. I would have limited work, better wages, and more windows, thepeople sometimes got lung cancer and suffocated from too much smoke. Thechildren, well, I would probably say they couldnt work until they were 11 or 12,but if they had to work before 11 or 12 I would give them less hours and morebreaks. For women, better pay and hours. In the coal mines, they shouldvebuilt better support, and at least warn the people of explosions. Schoolsshouldve been built for poor children and paid by the government. More housesbuilt and trees cut. Category: Social Issues