Literary Devices

Assonance
" 'I ought to spit on all of them, and on my own behaviour!'"
(104)

Parallelism
"for what you underwent all those torments and consciously performed such base, vile and ignoble actions?"
(104)

Simile
"He thought that if anybody were to speak to him, he would spit and snarl at them like an animal..."
(105)

Polysyndenton
"In some gulf far below him, almost out of sight beneath his feet, lay all his past, all his old ideas, and problems, and thoughts, and sensations, and this great panorama, and his own self, and everything, everything..."
(109)

Asyndenton
"Fear crept like ice round his heart, tortured his nerves, numbed his spirit..."
(110)

Epithet
"The wretched Lizaveta"
(76)

Repetition
" so they pressed and pressed and squeezed and squeezed, until he confessed"
(132)

Metonymy
"the English Embassy sold them last week"
(124)

Synecdoche
"'He has an itching palm' "
(127)

Paradox
"untruth is valuable, because it leads to truth"
(129)

Alliteration
"a slight alteration in the atmosphere"
(137)

Litotes
"'you said she was monstrously ugly...but, you know, she's no monster"
(62)

Natural Morality

          Morality has always been something within us humans, whether it be yesterday, today, or tomorrow, our morals remain for the most part unchanged. We do not generally question our own morals, because it is something that is embedded into us, and is something that we live by and do not doubt. Our morals are our set of rules to follow by, but upon further inspection, a question arises--where did we learn these morals? I would believe that the majority of humans would have an answer containing somepart relating to their parents and their ancestrial teachings, but that leads back to the question; where did your parents or ancestors learn their morals? After some thought, the most supported theory that I have come up with would be that our morals are things that are learned, and that they are things that utilize logic in specific situations to provide the most efficiency. In our case, I would believe that most of our morals tend to drift towards the idea of law and order within our society. It is most efficient for humans to be working together, and even more so if they work in an orderly fashion and without unnecessary inconsistencies in their thoughts. Most of the time, when we do not follow our morals, chaos and disorder is introduced to our generally peaceful lives. When violence is introduced, people are hurt and hatred is borne, and thus disorder is as well. When we do not think of our actions, misunderstandings are created, poor choices and regretful decisions are made, and inefficient steps are taken. While my explanation of morals generally has some support, there is one more large factor that affects our morals. This factor would be human emotions. Emotions are not learned, and are innate to us, and so it is something that cannot be discarded or forgotten. Emotions such as hatred stems revenge, which is a moral of some, and love stems protection, yet another moral to some. Both revenge and protection can sometimes destroy the balance of order, and can render my argument invalid. However, I believe that emotions, or our innate moralities, tend not to be the stem of most of our morals, and I believe that the preservance of order, our learned moralities, plays the bigger role.

My One Handicap

       In this vast world, there are many things that people would be afraid of. But most of the time, it is not a physical object that inhibits our ability to accomplish goals, and is rather an abstract thought or feeling. I am not afraid of darkness, nor am I really afraid of animals and the like. Instead, I fear something that is often overlooked, and something that is not easily identified. The one thing I fear is arrogance; in both myself and others, I fear this emotion that has accumulated throughout my life and continues to haunt me to this very day.
       Arrogance is a natural emotion that we feel, and yet it is something that will undoubtedly hinder us in one way or another. I am a person that also fears ignorance, but ignorance is something that can be cured with enough study and motivation. Arrogance, however, is something that we gain as we continue to pursue knowledge and is very difficult to ignore or conquer. But many people have different views on arrogance, and some say that it is not a vice, and may be in fact a boon. Looking at facts however, I completely disagree and think that arrogance will carve out the path to our downfall. As humans get better, they naturally think of themselves as better as well. However, humans would sometimes be narcissistic to the point that they think of themselves as the best in the world, as something that they clearly are not. Resulting from this, they revere themselves until they enter a delusion and do not face reality when they finally fail in accomplishing a task. They will then come up with other-worldy excuses and try to explain, without letting go of the thought that they are the best on the Earth, their loss. I fear this; never do I want to see myself as the best, and always would I want to see myself as a challenger; I want to view myself as one that is worse than others, for it gives me motivation from the sense of competition involved. By deluding reality, we also lose the sense of defeat and will to win against others. The reason that many people learn best from mistakes and losses is because they feel defeated, and feel the desire to retake the challenge and win. When one is arrogant, one completely loses this sense of loss, and does not think of one's defeat as a real one. Thus, one does not learn and continues to act arrogantly, never finding an escape to their delusions. I fear arrogance greatly because it would not only deteriorate my lifestyle, but would also cause my motivations to crumble down. I fear that my arrogance will continue to grow, and will not only be a large burden on my studies, but also cause me to be a person that is extremely ill-mannered and degrading of others.

Emotions of Man

         Fedor Dostoevsky, through his novel, uses realistic situations and dialogue to portray the raw emotion of man. By reading both the dialogue and the inner thoughts of the characters, we can understand how human emotion can completely take control over one's way of thinking. Many quotes throughout the story reveal cases where all logic is discarded and emotion is dominant--three of which I believe to be important will be further discussed.
         Raskolnikov, the protagonist, has an acquaintance who was a former government official, but lost his position and fell into the depths of poverty. With no choices left, the daughter of this former official goes into prosititution, and the family despair. However, with time, the family stops looking for another solution to their poverty, and begin to rely on the income gained from this prostitution, which they so much loathed before. As Raskolnikov looks upon this situation, he frowns, commenting that "they wept at first, but now they are used to it. Men are scoundrels; they can get used to anything" (25). This statement is definitely relatable with everyday life, how, no matter how immoral something may be, mankind can somehow convince themselves that it's a natural thing to do and that it's "normal". The point that I believe Dostoevsky is trying to convey is that, in a situation where one is given a choice of committing an immoral act to survive, or to search for another solution, one would naturally commit the act. The reason is that one feels desperation, and the more one searches for another solution and fails, the more desperate one gets. After a period of time, this desperation grows to the point where it fosters delusions, and man will naturally believe that they had no choice but to commit the act, and that it was justified. When the harsh reality is introduced into this delusion however, one will only fall farther. This ties in nicely with the story, because in the novel, Raskolnikov has been pondering over a thought for months on end. This act was to murder a pawnbroker, and to steal her money. Because of the poverty that Raskolnikov faces, and the fact that he has found no other solution to this poverty, I think that the author is foreshadowing that he will eventually commit the act due to desperation and end the life of the pawnbroker.
         Later on in the story, Raskolnikov receives a letter from his mother, basically saying that his sister would be marrying a rich man for the sole reason of securing his future and giving him business connections. However, found in the letter were many hints of the personality of this rich person, Luzhin. With a bit of interpretation, one can immediately see that Luzhin is an extremely materialistic man, and treats people like tools. Luzhin himself stated that he "ought not to be under any sort of obligation to his wife, and it was much better if she looked upon him as her benefactor" (33). This line definitely reveals his personality, and I think that the author is trying to relate Luzhin with the people of modern day; how people are beginning to only see the numbers and the benefits from things, and not the actual thing itself. We are becoming a race that relies heavily on math, computers, and other numerical things; as a result, we are beginning to treat others in the same fashion as we do with these things and our feelings, in contrast, are deteriorating. Dostoevsky seems to be hinting at the natural emotion of man, greed, and how it is constantly integrating itself more and more into our lives. He is somewhat saying that the evolution of our technology is the devolution of our humanity. Raskolnikov picks up on the personality of Luzhin, and I believe that, enraged at this, he will definitely try to do something to stop the marriage.
          As stated before, a letter from Raskolnikov's mother was sent, and in the letter, the mother and sister insist that Luzhin was a good man inside; completely turning a blind eye to his speech and thought which largely hint at a sense of materialism. Raskolnikov then comments on his family's behaviour, that "up to the very last moment they see people through rose-coloured spectacles; up to the very last moment they hope for good and not evil; and even if they have some misgivings that there is a reverse side to the medal, they refuse to admit them even to themselves ... ; they wave the truth away with both hands until the very moment when the over-idealized person appears in his true colours and cocks a snook at them" (40). The meaning of the line is quite self-explanatory, and once again shows both the desperation and the greed of man. As stated before, when given a situation where there is one solution presented, and no other solutions are visible, one would naturally choose the presented solution, no matter how immoral or how fake it may seem. In this case, the mother and the sister act gullible and ignorant due to the desperation of their situation. Deep down inside, they know that Luzhin is in fact a terrible person, but they cling onto the faint hope, the delusion that he will save them from their troubles. Instead, their desperation will only lead them deeper into problems, and they will have no one to blame but themselves.
         Dostoevsky, throughout the story, focuses less on its plot, and is more intent on showing the raw emotion of man and the harsh reality of life. Instead of providing the readers with a fairy-tale like story, he provides us with relatable characters and gives us a more general view on mankind. While the quotes discussed are related to the story itself, I feel that they are more intended to give the readers a better understanding on the reality of man and how he thinks.
        

The Fate of English

          It has taken many centuries for English to evolve into what it is today. It should also be no exception that English will continue to change; the problem is whether the change shall continue this history of evolution. And in modern day, many have, with valid arguments, began to debate whether or not the change into textism or "text talk" will be beneficial. I agree with some of the points argued from both sides, but, logically speaking, textism is not yet at the point at which it can overtake formal English.
         There are both ups and downs when considering the benefits of text talk. It is a very efficient and fast method of communication that is partnered well with the rapid pace that is created by the tier of technology that we have today. In these days, formal English is slow and lags behind--textism is much more practical. In terms of efficiency, text talk by far defeats formal English.
        The real problem, however, is whether or not text talk should invade our education and work. It is obvious that, if one can capture all the elements of an English sentence and shorten it into text talk, then textism is superior. The problem is that it cannot. Textism is merely a form of colloquialism, it was never meant to be compared with formal English. Unless textism can somehow evolve into a much more advanced yet still compact form of language, I do not see how it can compete with formal English, which has many subtle literary devices, great use of vocabulary, and strong imagery. Also, because of the practices that many of us have endured for years, we see textism as a form of casual talk. When seen in an essay or an informative piece of work, we instantly feel disrespect towards us and lose interest. At this point of time, it would be too inconvenient and not worth the effort for us to move into textism.
       From what I see, textism is definitely a sign of an evolution of the modern day English. However, at our current age, a new form of English is not yet necessary, and the alternative with which we're given, textism, is not quite up to par yet as well.

Fighting Poverty

         The novel, Crime and Punishment by Fedor Dostoevsky, is an intricate and extremely detailed look into the life of those fighting to live in poverty. The protagonist, Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov, is a "strikingly handsome young man" with fine dark eyes, brown hair, and a slender figure (2). He has also recieved education from an university, but unfortunately dropped out. His high degree of intelligence is felt by the many characters that he interacts with during his life. By now, people may think by now that he is a rich, influential man of nobility. However, he is anything but that. Instead, he fights day to day trying to survive in the harsh reality of life. Living in a room that is described as a cupboard due to its size, he has long overdue debts to his landlady from which he rented the place. He is unemployed, and is not even attempting to look for a job. To top it off, he wears rags for clothes that are, even in the worst part of the city, considered to be unacceptable. Raskolnikov, unlike many others would in his situation, did not seem to mind his life. Instead, he seemed to not even notice, and is instead deeply engrossed in thought. When his landlady's servant asked him what his job was, he replied that he was "thinking" (27).
          From what I see right now, Raskolnikov seems to be very close to death's door. All the descriptions of Raskolnikov have a sense of darkness, as if he was plotting something during all that time spent thinking. This is further supported by the fact that Raskolnikov always hints at something that is not known to the readers, calling it "that" or "the thing" (2,4). My take on this is that he is planning to do something that would definitely not be, in societies' view, tolerable. Another thing that I have noticed while reading this novel is that Raskolnikov seems to be detached from the rest of the world, he avoids conversation and is repeatedly trying to avert the glares of others. For example, when his hat, which is a high, round hat from a famous hat shop (it is, of course, rusty from age) is subject to ridicule by a random drunken man on the street, Raskolnikov immediately withdraws from his deep thought and clings to his hat in response. This action was not executed due to the shame, but it was "more like terror" had taken hold of him (3). I feel that this is extremely important, because a relation can be drawn between this unexpected terror and his constant referral to the thing. Most of the time, when one is attempting to do something that, when seen by others, would be seen as stupid and improper, one notices even the smallest of details and is in constant anxiety, expressing panic at even a small amount of suspicion by others. From this, I feel that the thing that Raskolnikov refers to is something that should not be done, and is most likely a desperate measure that is only considered because of the poverty he is experiencing.
          Raskolnikov, because of his actions, brings a sense of realism with him. But what I think really shapes up his character is the emotion that can be seen in his every thought. At times, he can be sympathetic, and yet at other times, he harshly bashes the unrealism in his own and other's ideals. At one point, he, although poor, donates what's left of his pocket change to help another family that is on the verge of starvation; a moment later, he "[repents] on his action", cursing at himself and remarking that it was a "stupid thing to do" (24). And yet, he never goes back for his money, however much he despises giving it away. I can relate to this, because at times, no matter how bad of a situation I am in, I still try to help others in whatever way I can. Another factor that contributes to the realism of this story and its characters is the mood. Everything is portrayed darkly, and when things can not seem to get any worse, it does. From this fact I can predict that, unless Raskolnikov can create a miracle, he will only go further and further into poverty. While helping others is a good deed, it does not give him money and food; lack of money will only continue to put stress on his mind, and things will only turn for the worse. As a result, Raskolnikov will further disassociate himself from society, which will, again, make him dive further into poverty.

Unstoppable Passion

     I had not realized until the year of my ninth grade that some challenges could not be overcome without first confronting myself. At that time, I was like any other grade nine; I liked what others liked, and did what they did. However, there was one thing that set me apart from these people I tried so hard to imitate: my passion for music. More specifically, my passion for creating music. I spent much time pursuing this passion, but it was not long before I faced an obstacle greater than any I had encountered before--myself.
     I loved creating music but could never fully express this fact. I say this because I owned a trumpet, but never really got to perform with it. By perform, I mean a performance where each and every musician can be heard, not the kind of performances I was in. The kind of performances I had were ones where everyone vomited out their music; where people blared out sounds, paying no heed to the fact that the musical score clearly stated to play softly. Of course, in these performances, my music could not be heard; it was like a single voice crying out in a crowd of thousands. I did not let this stop me though, and continued to practice playing my instrument vigorously. I practiced and practiced, all while thinking about the moment when I stand on stage, with thousands of eyes fixed on me as I play through my solo. The results of my practice became obvious; my skills improved until I could play through a piece to near perfection. Soon, the musical pieces given to me by the concert band class I was in could not make the cut. They were too easy, and I did not feel challenged. I felt that the music I was playing was being limited by the score--I needed something harder, something that I could fully express my skill with.
      My plea for higher limits was soon answered. I had discovered jazz, another type of music. Everything was different with jazz: more freedom, faster paces, higher notes, and better flow. With jazz, there would be no limit to how well I could play, and I could play a certain piece in many different ways. Jazz seemed to define me, and it seemed to be exactly what I was seeking. When I saw that my school had a Jazz Band club, something inside of me knew instantly--I had to join. And what do you know, I did. It was only after I joined that I started having doubts. What if they aren't good at all? What if even this newly found band cannot help me express my passion? What if I drag them down? Needless to say, most of my thoughts were not very optimistic. When the time came to practice, however, the band did not fall short of my expectations; in fact, it was multitudes better than what I thought it would be. With seven players, the band was extremely small. When playing, however, it seemed as if even a band of hundreds could not compare. At times, music would flow elegantly through the air, before suddenly changing into a storm of high pitched notes. I felt a cold sweat as I heard this band that I myself was playing with, and then I knew. I knew that with the jazz band, there would be no obstacles to stand in my way. And, when the music teacher told us that we would be having a performance two weeks from then, I knew that I would finally be able to perform the solo I had always wanted. And yet something inside me stirred. I didn't want to perform. There were no obstacles, and yet I didn't want to perform.
      Not long after, it became apparent what had obstructed my path. It was myself. Because of my nature to be extremely shy, combined with my fear of criticism from others, I didn't want to perform. As the assigned date for the performance moved closer, my nervousness grew more and more uncontrollable. I tried to calm myself down, but it was like I was fighting against a typhoon. This single problem was millions of times more difficult to solve compared to ones I was faced with in the past. And before long, it was time for the performance. My pathetic attempts to rid myself of my nervousness had completely failed, and in fact the problem had grown even worse. However, I could not stop time, so I had to go to the performance even without fixing that major problem.
       The location was at the Gateway Theatre and the performance started at 7:00PM. The event was something held annually by the jazz bands of all the schools nearby, so there was planned to be many performers. I got off my car at 6:50PM and as I started walking towards the theatre, I sighed and looked at the sky, hoping to find some sort of answer. There was nothing but darkness that greeted my eyes, and I could not find one ray of hope waiting for me. Things got worse from there. Negative thoughts swarmed into my mind soon, words like "impossible" and "hopeless" became my new vocabulary. And as I opened the doors to the theatre, I stared at the area where the audience was to be at, and my heart sank even further than it already did. Hundreds of people were seated, all waiting in anticipation of the music people like myself were to create. I spotted my band members, and rushed over to them. Then I found out something comforting. It seemed that I was not the only one nervous, and my club members too were feeling like the end of the world was near. Since there were many bands, an order in which to play was necessary. Our band was to play near the end. I died a little bit on the inside after finding that out. Imagine having clammy hands, a mindset on the verge of breaking down, uncontrollable shaking, and an enormous amount of pressure. Then imagine having to go through all that for two hours, knowing that your turn to play comes closer by the second. As you may know by now, it was quite rough for me to endure. After the hellish wait, our turn came. I walked onto the stage, feeling the heat of the lights above me as if I was being baked alive. Soon after, the curtains in front of me pulled, revealing thousands upon thousands of eyes that were staring straight at me. My eyes rushed back and forth, as if surveying the room. Deep inside, I knew that I was not surveying the room; I was frantically looking for an escape. But at the same time I knew that I had none. I started fidgeting with the keys on my trumpet, and found out that it was nearly impossible to even fidget because my hands were shaking so much. I was so nervous that I wanted to die. Then I remembered. Everyday, for months, I had practiced playing the instrument that I was holding in my hands. Everyday, I had played music with as much emotion as possible, and had played until it was drilled into my mind. Everyday, I had wished to stand on the stage, and perform an awesome solo. And then I came back into reality. The music had started, and it was almost time for me to play. For some strange reason, my nervousness calmed down, and I regained my composure. And then, I played my first note, followed by the second, and then the third. Soon, the audience faded from my eyes, and I was standing on the stage, by myself, playing what I had always dreamed to--my own solo.
       Looking back, I laugh at how miniscule the problem was. But at the time, it was the greatest obstacle blocking me, and I would not have been able to confront it without first confronting myself. I had many doubts, and was scared of criticism from others. Soon, I thought pessimistically and over exaggerated these doubts, and then everything started to have a snowball effect. My doubts soon grew into fear, and my fear encaged me and prevented me from expressing who I actually was.