Moving the Reader

Truth and Beauty

"I was still mad at her, furious with her, but that wasn't the question. The question was did I love her. And I always loved her."

Patchett skillfully captures the power of friendship, because although the strong-willed Lucy and observant Ann have polar opposite reactions in the wake of 9/11, the two close friends are able to brush the incident off. Friendship is never about embracing similarity, but about accepting the other's differences. This passage moves me emotionally because of its realistic nature- I would likely go through the same thought process as Patchett does after a major fight with a good friend.

"History is strangely incomprehensible when you're standing in the middle of it."

This was so profoundly moving at first glance that I took out a pen and immediately underlined it. Patchett takes a step back from the horrors of being in the midst of 9/11 to make a general observation of how she- and others- reacted in the face of the most important event the millennium has seen. The brief passage puts her emotions into perspective. Her thoughts aren't drawn to the potentially injured people or the cause of the event, but instead, she exhibits common curiosity.

Ass Burger

"A weight has been lifted. And I understand why sometimes people speak in clichés because sometimes there is simply no other way to describe something. A weight has been lifted. It's not all my fault. I'm not retarded. Or slow. It's him. It's always been him. And nobody knew it."

Not only does this move me emotionally, it likely moved Burroughs emotionally more so than other passages in this chapter, as nothing draws a reader further into the thoughts of the reader than a sudden change in sentence structure. I can only imagine being Burroughs in this situation; after so many years of being confused, his brother's actions finally make sense. Despite worshipping his brother's abilities, he feels a sense of relief that he isn't the "retarded" one. The passage benefits from its authenticity, allowing the reader to relate to Burroughs' conflicting emotions.

"It is associated with geniuses, and this is why Manhattan parents are often secretly thrilled to have their bratty, brainy, introverted children diagnosed with this condition. It is the first trendy thing ever to occur in the atmosphere surrounding my brother."

One of the most powerful emotions Burroughs utilizes in Ass Burger is humour. Rarely does anyone associate Asperger's syndrome with an opportunity to make a quip concerning elitist parents. However, by using a variety of emotions, Burroughs shows his ability to move the reader. Most would find it a difficult and horrifying experience, but it takes courage to use humour when discussing a grim diagnosis.

After the Falls

"I had no idea then that I was leaving behind the least-troubled years of my life. Strange, since i felt there was no way I could cause more trouble than I'd caused in Lewiston." (5)

Cathy goes through the difficult experience of having to move homes during her adolescence, and reminisces on the time she spent in Lewiston. It is clear that although Cathy attributes some of her angst to the downgrade in homes, she truly misses Lewiston and the tradition that accompanied her former abode. This passage early in the memoir sets the stage: we are immediately presented with the fact that she will have her share of struggles. As someone who moved a number of times, I can relate to her missing, and going so far as glorifying, the past in an old home. Upon each move, there was a turning point in my life, and the same can be said for Cathy as she leaves Lewiston.

Summer Reading- One Hundred Years of Solitude

“At dawn, after a summary court-martial, Arcadio was shot against the wall of the cemetery. In the last two hours of his life, he did not manage to understand why the fear that had tormented him since childhood had disappeared. Impassive, without even worrying about making a show of his recent bravery, he listened to the interminable charges of the accusation… In the shattered schoolhouse where for the first time he had felt the security of power, a few feet from the room where he had come to know the uncertainty of love, Arcadio found the formality of death ridiculous. Death really did not matter to him but life did, and therefore the sensation he felt when they gave their decision was not a feeling of fear but of nostalgia.” (122)

In just five sentences, Nobel Prize-winning author Gabriel Garcia Marquez conquers a task that even the most accomplished writer would never dream of: describing the terse moments before a general’s death. Although the epic novel spans seven generations of the Buendia family, who founded the small town of Macondo and observed the progression of time, the heartbreak of war, and the depressingly corrupt nature of society, it feels in this passage as if the entire novel revolves around third-generation Arcadio. In One Hundred Years of Solitude, he is the most brutal personage, and would have undoubtedly killed his mother if she stood in the way of his powerful regime. Early in the seventh chapter, Marquez manages to paint a despicable image of Arcadio, but in this passage, he presents a non-judgmental view of the general, simply giving an outline of his thoughts before death.

One Hundred Years of Solitude is anything but a character study, and Marquez intended to deliver a poignant social commentary. When conducting a deeper analysis of the passage, the reader comes to the conclusion that the objective of the paragraph is to point out the futility of capital punishment: “Death really did not matter to him but life did.” Arcadio has killed many innocent civilians and is one of the most reprehensible characters in literature, yet he is impartial to the thought of death- something he feared throughout his life- and is killed briefly and painlessly as he reflects on the smaller pleasures of his short life. The undeniably strong Arcadio reminisces on the importance of particular landmarks, such as “the shattered schoolhouse where for the first time he felt the security of power.” It seems as if the individuals conducting the “formalities,” such as reading off the “interminable charges of the accusation” are embarrassing themselves, as their procedure fails to inflict considerable pain because Arcadio is comfortable with his fate. Many themes are stressed over the course of One Hundred Years of Solitude, including Marquez’s obsession with communist theory, but this was an especially well-written passage due to its intense nature and the fact that it broached a difficult subject.

“One of the pompous young officers, who was so audacious as to adopt an air of superiority when speaking to me, meticulously recounted each and every charge I faced. The precursor of my death was hopeful and rejuvenating, which I doubt were the intentions of these proceedings. The officers agonized over me and numerous civilians stood around the cemetery walls observing the scene. Each would have responded identically to me had they earned my high ranking- with great power comes great death- and with respect, they crowded the centre of the town as I bid bittersweet goodbyes to Macondo, where my heroic grandfather first set foot fifty years ago. There would be no purpose in appealing a guilty verdict, because a brave man never pleads for mercy, but stoically accepts the imminence of death. I gazed upon the schoolhouse, and recalled my first experience of growth, learning, and true authority. I smiled at the thought of my tender wife, as well as the joys and the art of our lovemaking. My life was coming to its dramatic finale, but the beauty, simplicity, and painlessness of capital punishment vanquished my fear of death, and subsequently, my last few hours were a fitting ending to a pleasing life.”

The Topic of Cancer

Christopher Hitchens, one of the great intellects of our time, is extremely courageous in accepting and dealing with his cancer diagnosis. Near the end of his interview with Charlie Rose, he points out that “You should always know that your time is very limited, and you’re lucky to live in a time and place where you can be healthy until you’re sixty as I was.” Rather than cursing the fates for the pain he experiences each day, Hitchens is grateful for a lifetime of opportunities, and he has a surprisingly positive outlook. After mentioning his desire to be conscious at the moment he dies, he justifies his wish to a stupefied Rose by saying “I wouldn’t want to miss another experience… That’s very qualified when you think of how painful a cancer death can be. You might lose your ability to make an observation or lose your ability to be taking in the situation at all.” His optimism shines through, but he is still blunt and realistic about the horrors of cancer. The most intriguing section of the interview occurs when Rose prods Hitchens about oncoming mortality, his desire for knowledge, and what he plans to do with the short time he has left. Interestingly enough, Hitchens still coherently formulates political arguments, and has clearly kept up-to-date on President Obama’s agenda, but the brief period of reflection is both provocative and powerful. Keeping the end of life in mind, Hitchens is attempting to immerse himself in numerous literary masterpieces (and accentuates the fact that he is well-read by quoting famous authors throughout the interview). The primary regret he expresses is that he is unable to interact with people to the same degree that he used to, and thinks it unfortunate that “the party will go on without [him]… a horrible thought.” However, the prevailing theme is that Hitchens considers his life well lived. In conclusion, he remarks, “life is a terrible thing to waste, so I hope I haven’t wasted too much of it.” Judging by his success and resolve, which speak for themselves, Hitchens has definitely lived a remarkable life.

Given that the interview involves discussion of a life-threatening disease, there are some difficult moments, but Hitchens' authenticity and sincerity add emotional appeal. He doesn't compromise his personality or make a last-ditch religious effort, but instead shows great strength in acknowledging that his lifestyle almost certainly impacted his health. He also remains admirably low-key, and this shows him to be more concerned about living life than acting heroically for the media. At times, Hitchens is somber, but he nearly brought me to the point of laughter after having to continually point out that many provided questions were answered in his memoir, "Hitch-22", which was conspicuously located on the lap of Charlie Rose for the duration of the interview. Also, as a prominent journalist, Hitchens masterfully weaves emotions into "Topic of Cancer". It is not only poignant and heartbreaking, but is laced with dark humour. What other journalist has the moxie to critique hospital food in a cancer announcement? A major theme of the article is how he sees the tumour as a foreign invader, using a string of what Vanity Fair editors describe as "martial metaphors". The use of "alien" indicates that Hitchens is unwilling to let the tumour affect his insurmountable spirit, and in the later paragraphs, he adopts an attitude of wistfulness, which adds to the list of emotions Hitchens utilizes with great effect.

"But irony is my business and I just can't see any ironies here: would it be less poignant to get cancer on the day that my memoirs were remaindered as a box-office turkey, or that I was bounced from a coach-class flight and left on the tarmac? To the dumb question 'Why me?' the cosmos barely bothers to return the reply: Why not?"

This logical approach to life constitutes his positivity in facing the diagnosis. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, he creates counter-arguments that point out the futility of doing so. It also manages to follow a key lesson in journalism: presenting both sides of an issue. The above passage is simple, clever, powerful, and showcases Hitchens' wit and intelligence.