Stumbling Down Memory Lane

As senior year drives forward, many will look back on his or her high school experiences. He or she will lament on how fast time has gone, how it seems as if we have just begun our freshman year. I, on the other hand, cannot draw the same conclusion. Although I love Chagrin Falls and my high school experience, everything from sports to academics has made my last three years feel like ten. This sentiment, however, has led to a false sense of eternity—an eternity that will forever include lunch in commons, volleyball in the fall, and AP English with Ms. Serensky. In William Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale, Lord Archidamus believes “There is not in the world either/ malice or matter to alter” the friendship between Leontes and Polixenes (1.1.34-35).  The reader discovers that this claim holds no water, for their friendship dissipates soon after. Just like Archidamus believes in the strength of this friendship, I believe in the perpetuity of high school. I take for granted things like football games and seeing my best friends every day, for I cannot imagine a world where they do not exist. I recently experienced this alternate world with the completion of my volleyball season. I spent four falls with the same girls, the same coach, and the same gym. I had the same complaints at every practice, and the same poor attitude about my skills. But after losing the first two sets of the district final match, I looked to my fellow seniors and knew I could not hold this same disposition. In them I saw not only dejection, but also a wild desperation. This next match meant so much more than a championship—if we failed, we would lose each other. We would never again have the opportunity to play on the same court. All the skills we had learned felt so menial in comparison to the finality and shock that greeted me with the loss of that game. As my senior year continues, I know that both of these emotions will greet me again as graduation nears. I know that there will come a time in the very near future when my greatest stress is not writing an essay in under 40 minutes. Until then, my sense of forever cannot, and will not, fade.

Changed by Change

Throughout my young life, I have always hated change. I honestly cried when my parents wanted to repaint the living room. But after I read Pulitzer Prize winner Elizabeth Strout’s Olive Kitteredge, I began to see all the great things that can come from change. In a time when Americans elected the first African American president, change seemed inevitable in the novel. All characters fight their own demons, but only those who decide to make a change end up happy. For example, Strout introduces Angela O’Meara, a local pianist who has an ongoing affair with a married man. But after the man verbally abuses Angela, she proclaims that she will “not call him” again (60). The absolute diction of “not” implies that Angela will never change her mind on the matter. Although she feels dependent on the man, she wills herself to adjust. I see Angela’s choice as life altering, for now she can look towards a better future. Strout again illustrates this theme through Winnie, a girl whose sister Julie encourages her to leave her bedraggled home for a better life. When Winnie’s father asks if she wants pancakes, Winnie admits she “didn’t want pancakes” (199). Strout utilizes pancakes as a symbol for Winnie’s attachment to her family. By rejecting the pancakes, Winnie changes from a child dependent on her mother to a woman who will make her own decisions. I have seen through Winnie the power I can have over my own life, and that no one has to accept their fate. My favorite change, of course, comes with Olive herself. Olive ultimately finds love again and finally sees the world as a place she “did not want to leave” (270). Strout sharply juxtaposes this claim to her previous sentiment when Olive wished only to die quickly. The author also asserts how love can change people, but one must feel willing to change. Strout knows that many wish to change like her characters, and she encourages them to take that risk.  Although change can still give me a stomach ache, I know now that people like me have to accept the inevitable: the only thing constant comes as change.

Hover Parent

Since the dawn of time, children have rebelled against their parents. Classic movies such as The Breakfast Club and Freaky Friday demonstrate the adolescent need for freedom, and Elizabeth Strout demonstrates the effects of this timeless conflict in her novel Olive Kitteridge. Although every three out of ten young adults live at home, Strout, a Pulitzer Prize winner, illustrates the opposite scenario with Olive and her only son Christopher. Olive’s commanding personality creates resentment in Christopher that I believe may never resolve, therefore showing Olive’s flaws. Olive’s husband, Henry, first brings this conflict to Olive’s attention, claiming that Olive “‘took over that boy’s life’” (121). By indirectly characterizing Olive as overbearing, Strout asserts the effects of bossy parenting—eventually, the child will see reason to break ties. Although I love Olive dearly, I can see why Christopher could not stand this life. Olive herself acknowledges his cold shoulder when she secretly begs her son to “do something for me!” (149). Through both the italics and exclamation point, Strout emphasizes Olive’s desperate tone. But when Chris ignores his mother, the author implies the son’s bitterness. Although Olive hovered over Chris’ childhood, he will not do the reverse. The pained mother finally accepts her son’s separation when she thinks how he remains “in California…gone” (175). With the absolute connotations of “gone,” Strout creates an aggrieved tone from Olive. She put all her love towards Chris, but her rude demeanor wins out. Although Strout relies on pathos to create empathy felt by other mothers, I believe the empathy would remain just as strong if told from Christopher’s point of view. Strout writes to these mothers in order to encourage them to love their child yet never overbear. She addresses the opposite goes for their children: try to understand their parent’s love, because they may not have the ability to fix a broken relationship. I see this conflict with kids my own age as well. I hope that they can redirect their frustration in order to better relate to the elder generation, a task that Christopher Kitteridge thoroughly ignores.

Olive You!

Marilyn Monroe once said “Well behaved women rarely make history,” and I believe Elizabeth Strout takes this assertion to heart in her novel Olive Kitteridge. Strout, a Pulitzer Prize winner, writes of Olive, a school teacher who holds bold opinions on life. Although Olive’s profession does not stand out in a time when women made up 82 percent of educators, nobody who encounters her will ever forget her. I love Olive for her sassy take on life, yet she still develops as a sensitive woman throughout the first third of the novel. Strout first introduces my favorite character when Olive describes her husband’s assistant as looking “‘like a mouse’” (5). Through the weak connotations of “mouse,” Strout creates a critical tone from Olive, indirectly characterizing her as harsh. Even with his negative trait, I see Olive as unafraid to speak her mind. Many women today still do not hold this quality. Strout exposes another side to Olive when the woman bumps into an old student, Kevin Coulson, and admits “‘I’ve thought of you’” (37). Strout indirectly characterizes Olive this time as caring for thinking of this boy who lost his mother to suicide. The author applies Kevin as a synecdoche for Olive’s students: although she often appears bitter, she truly wants to protect them all. The author again displays Olive’s softer side at her son’s wedding, claiming that newlyweds believe “they’re finished with loneliness” (68). By asserting this falsity that her son and his bride surely believe, Strout renders Olive’s emotions to the world. Although she surrounds herself with people, she still feels alone. I believe women today often feel this emotion, yet remain afraid to speak their mind. Strout writes to these women to demonstrate to them that if they trust in themselves, they will not need the acceptance of others. Strout applies this to older women as well—age does not mean one cannot speak their mind. I see people judging the Olives of the world every day, and I hope that they will notice the sensitive side of this group, just like the real Olive Kitteridge holds in Strout’s novel.

Golden Opprotunity

With the summer Olympics in full swing, several Americans have fixed their attention on one color: gold. Many athletes have worked their entire lives to attain this color, similar to the way Will and Jim fight for it in Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked This Way Comes. Bradbury, an Emmy-award winner, describes Will and Jim’s constant battle between light and dark in the era of the baby-boomers. The boys always fight for the goodness surrounding light; therefore, I believe that the color gold best represents the conflict between the boys and Mr. Dark. Bradbury first introduces Dark when they see the evil man from a distance, and as they watched, “darkness came” (53). Through the mysterious connotations of “darkness,” Bradbury implies the ominous power he possesses. Without the power of light, Will and Jim have no means to stop this monstrosity from entering their town. But the author describes an instance where the boys face the opposite element when coming out of a Mirror Maze, and they “stepped into sunlight” (65). The Mirror Maze, a creation of Mr. Dark, tortures its victims by showing them images of themselves at a desirable age. Bradbury utilizes the golden “sunlight” as a symbol for safety, sharply juxtaposing the color to the darkness surrounding the villain’s contraption. The author carries this symbol until the end of the story after the victory over Dark when Will, his father, and Jim all walk into the night as “the moon watched” (289). The illuminating connotations of “moon” again juxtapose the darkness of the night, a symbol for the menacing power Mr. Dark previously held. By utilizing light of the moon as a symbol for justice, Bradbury asserts that good men will always triumph over the evils of darkness. The author sends this message to those who struggle to fight their own demons, encouraging them to find joy through the golden light. Conversely, Bradbury also addresses villains such as Dark, displaying how their evil can never prevail. I see the color gold as a symbol of hope, not only carrying the dreams of Olympians but also those of everyday Americans to a better tomorrow.  

Father's Love

Growing up, every child longs for their father’s love and approval. If a child gains these gifts, his or her self-confident can grow exponentially. Emmy award winner Ray Bradbury highlights this assertion in his novel, Something Wicked This Way Comes. Bradbury tells of two boys who discover a magic carnival. One boy, Jim Nightshade, lives only with his mother, while his best friend, Will Halloway, resides with both parents. Although nine percent of children grew up with a single parent in the 1960s, Bradbury writes with admiration of Will’s father, Charles Halloway. The author describes Mr. Halloway as a brave and trustworthy man, two traits that I would like to embody. Bradbury first highlights these traits when the father confronts his son, stating “‘you didn’t steal anything’” (131). Through this blunt claim, Bradbury illustrates his unwavering trust in his son’s innocence. If I could embody Mr. Halloway, I would hope my assurance in my child’s character would remain just as steadfast. Again the author writes favorably of Mr. Halloway when the father tries to stop the evil Mr. Dark from finding Will and Jim by accusing him of acting “jumpy” (174). By criticizing the villain of acting obsessed over such innocence, Mr. Halloway leaves Mr. Dark irate. Bradbury indirectly characterizes Will’s father as brave for protecting the children, an action that I would hope to take for my child. The novelist further justifies Mr. Halloway’s integrity when he explains “I hate…not being able” (130). Although Bradbury expresses Halloway’s regret through the bitter diction “hate,” he highlights the man’s nobility when the father ignores his own troubles in order to help Will and Jim. The author applies this message to parents today to encourage them to protect their children from the evils of the world. In my life, I see men such as Mr. Halloway as everyday heroes that make a great difference in many lives. Although some men wish to return to the joy of youth, Bradbury emphasizes that protecting others will ultimately bring superior self-satisfaction than nostalgia ever could.

YOUthful Style

Throughout the first third of Something Wicked This Way Comes, Ray Bradbury’s stylistic choices greatly affect his writing, a passion of his since age eleven. Bradbury tells of Jim Nightshade and Will Halloway, two boys who discover magic in a traveling carnival. The author writes from a time when boys often pushed the limits, such as the members of the band The Beatles. In order to emphasize their curiosity, Bradbury often switches from a third person point of view to second, a stylistic choice that I find highly effective for his novel. The author applies this technique when describing a habit of Jim’s: “you never look away” from the world (40). By using Jim as a synecdoche, Bradbury asserts why young boys often feel inquisitive. In switching to second person, he creates pathos felt by those who explore. Consequently, Bradbury generates empathy towards Jim’s wayward character. Again the author uses this style through Will’s father, claiming “you’re…nearest to dead” at three AM (59). Through the use of second person, the author escalates the anticipation of those who awaken at this hour. While his pathos entrances the reader, Bradbury juxtaposes the anxiety of the elder generation to the excitement of their children, who await the night’s wonders. The author additionally describes a night time ritual for Jim and Will by using this stylistic choice: whenever one boy plays a certain tune on an old board, “you could tell the… venture” (94). By using the boyish diction of “venture,” Bradbury creates an elated tone. He again produces pathos through the pronoun “you” and this elation, a relatable emotion for those who have pursued the night. Overall, the author’s ability to smoothly transition from third to second person not only effectively communicates the novel’s main themes, but it also expresses to young boys the fun of exploration. I believe that those who look down on the use of this technique will see intricacy it adds to the developing lives of Will and Jim.  Bradbury intends to win over these skeptical readers by placing them in the boys' “ventures,” which the lads will never forget.