December 18, 1695
Dear John,
I can only hope that, through some unnatural manner, this letter reaches you, wherever you may be. I miss you so much. I cannot relay within the mere confines of script how much it hurts to wake up each morning and not see you up and leaving to tend the fields. I just needed a reprieve, John. I pray that this letter will be enough.
I have been thinking about where exactly you have gone to. What is it like in Paradise? I know such a saint as you could not go anywhere else but the pearly white gates of St. Peter himself. It took a while for me to truly grasp the magnitude of what you did. I did not have the strength to leave my bedside for the first few weeks after that day. That left me time to think. I know now that you did not die for you. If you had given the court their confession like they wanted, you would have forsaken all those who died before you. If you had lived, everything they died for would be a lie. I know that now, even if I could not for the life of me figure it out before. It makes it less painful. I am just so sorry you are not here.
The boys are doing fine. They miss their father, I can tell. I do not know whether the news has even really gotten to them, yet. It is just not the same for them. I doubt your passing has affected them as much as it has me, but it is simply different. The Corey boys help me to care for them. Our newest is beautiful. She is a girl—Jane—named after you. She looks so much like you, John. I cannot look to her without seeing you there too. I wonder how things would be different if you were here with her. Her laugh is precious.
I miss you, John. I do not know whether I have said that enough. It is mighty hard raisin these children without you here to help me. I am so sorry you died. Even worse, I do not even know whether you died knowing how much I still love you. I have to live with the fact every day I still have to breathe. The only thing keeping me going is Jane and the boys. I know I need to be strong for them, but you were my strength. The noose weakened me beyond what any fatigue could. Wherever you are John, I know you are watching over me, because I am looking up to you. I love you always and forever.
Your wife,
________________________
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Crucible Character Analysis: Abigail
Scott Pero
AP English Language/Mr. George
December 16, 2009
Abigail Williams Character Analysis
Abigail Williams is a young girl who appears pure and innocent, but beneath her beautiful exterior, she is a conniving temptress.
Abigail uses her sweet, angelic visage to ensure her own goals come to fruition. One of those goals is to eliminate her competition in the pursuit of John Proctor: Proctor’s wife, Elizabeth. After one night of lechery with Proctor, Abigail believes him to be in love with her. She then stops at nothing to have her way, even resorting to witchery to kill Elizabeth and have Proctor all to herself. Abigail vehemently believes that John loves her in the same degree that she loves him, no matter what Proctor may say otherwise. She twists and turns everything around to work in her favor, either by her words or her actions: “looking about in the air, clasping her arms about her as though cold: I—I know not. A wind, a cold wind, has come” (108). Abigail leads the people on, rendering them all like puppets on a string with herself as the manipulative puppeteer.
Abigail is like a siren, the seductive bird-women of Greek mythology. Like the sirens lured sailors to their deaths with their enticing voices, Abigail lures the villagers with her siren song into believing her every word. One cannot help but believe her, falling helplessly under her spell. In the process, she is plotting against you, secretly waiting to shipwreck you upon the rocks, all for her own desires.
A modern day counterpart of Abigail is Ruby from the TV show Supernatural: Both characters bewitch the others into believing their goodness and honesty, secretly plotting against them all in the process; Abigail wanted Proctor for herself, while Ruby secretly wanted to release Lucifer from Hell.
AP English Language/Mr. George
December 16, 2009
Abigail Williams Character Analysis
Abigail Williams is a young girl who appears pure and innocent, but beneath her beautiful exterior, she is a conniving temptress.
Abigail uses her sweet, angelic visage to ensure her own goals come to fruition. One of those goals is to eliminate her competition in the pursuit of John Proctor: Proctor’s wife, Elizabeth. After one night of lechery with Proctor, Abigail believes him to be in love with her. She then stops at nothing to have her way, even resorting to witchery to kill Elizabeth and have Proctor all to herself. Abigail vehemently believes that John loves her in the same degree that she loves him, no matter what Proctor may say otherwise. She twists and turns everything around to work in her favor, either by her words or her actions: “looking about in the air, clasping her arms about her as though cold: I—I know not. A wind, a cold wind, has come” (108). Abigail leads the people on, rendering them all like puppets on a string with herself as the manipulative puppeteer.
Abigail is like a siren, the seductive bird-women of Greek mythology. Like the sirens lured sailors to their deaths with their enticing voices, Abigail lures the villagers with her siren song into believing her every word. One cannot help but believe her, falling helplessly under her spell. In the process, she is plotting against you, secretly waiting to shipwreck you upon the rocks, all for her own desires.
A modern day counterpart of Abigail is Ruby from the TV show Supernatural: Both characters bewitch the others into believing their goodness and honesty, secretly plotting against them all in the process; Abigail wanted Proctor for herself, while Ruby secretly wanted to release Lucifer from Hell.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Crucible Nueve--END
1.) Hale: "Why, it is all simple. I come to do the Devil's work. I come to counsel Christians they should belie themselves. His sarcasm collapses. There is blood on my head! Can you not see the blood on my head!!" (Miller 131).
Hale is partly responsible for the countless lives taken in Salem. He was the one that investigated into people's lives to determine if they were a witch or not. If he found them to be a witch, he had a part to play in their demise by signing their arrest warrants and death warrants. This is a great burden on his name: the fact that innocent people are dead because of his professional opinion. Hale feels used by the court because of it as well. He was the professional in this area, and they abused his knowledge: "The very crowns of holy law I brought, and what I touched with my bright confidence, it died; and where I turned the eye of my great faith, blood flowed up" (132). Hale did not know when he came to Salem that his specialty was going to be used to murder hundreds of innocents. To Hale, his name is now blemished with the blood of all these people. He was the one to identify them as a witch or not. Now, he is trying to reconcile himself by convincing the condemned innocents to lie and keep their life, rather than die for something they didn't do.
2.) Elizabeth: "He[Giles] were not hanged. He would not answer aye or nay to his indictment; for if he denied the charge they'd hang him surely, and auction out his property. So he stand mute, and died Christian under the law. And so his sons will have his farm. It is the law, for he could not be condemned a wizard without he answer to the indictment, aye or nay" (135).
There exists one loophole in the law's apparently infallible policy with witches. All of the condemned answered their accusation, either saying yes or no. Giles, the stubborn and relentless old man he was, did neither. The court did not get an answer from him, so he could not be a warlock and they could not hang him for not confessing. Giles did not want to tarnish his name and lose his property while he had sons it was going to pass on to. Not only that, but he wanted to pass his name on to his sons unmarked, so that they could live without their father condemned a witch. Giles died while the court was trying to get an answer out of him: "Great stones they lay upon his chest until he plead aye or nay. With a tender smile for the old man: They say he give them but two words. "More Weight," he says. And died" (135). Giles is so adamant that his name passing lawfully and religiously on to his sons. He endured such an agonizing death, only embracing it in defiance.
Hale is partly responsible for the countless lives taken in Salem. He was the one that investigated into people's lives to determine if they were a witch or not. If he found them to be a witch, he had a part to play in their demise by signing their arrest warrants and death warrants. This is a great burden on his name: the fact that innocent people are dead because of his professional opinion. Hale feels used by the court because of it as well. He was the professional in this area, and they abused his knowledge: "The very crowns of holy law I brought, and what I touched with my bright confidence, it died; and where I turned the eye of my great faith, blood flowed up" (132). Hale did not know when he came to Salem that his specialty was going to be used to murder hundreds of innocents. To Hale, his name is now blemished with the blood of all these people. He was the one to identify them as a witch or not. Now, he is trying to reconcile himself by convincing the condemned innocents to lie and keep their life, rather than die for something they didn't do.
2.) Elizabeth: "He[Giles] were not hanged. He would not answer aye or nay to his indictment; for if he denied the charge they'd hang him surely, and auction out his property. So he stand mute, and died Christian under the law. And so his sons will have his farm. It is the law, for he could not be condemned a wizard without he answer to the indictment, aye or nay" (135).
There exists one loophole in the law's apparently infallible policy with witches. All of the condemned answered their accusation, either saying yes or no. Giles, the stubborn and relentless old man he was, did neither. The court did not get an answer from him, so he could not be a warlock and they could not hang him for not confessing. Giles did not want to tarnish his name and lose his property while he had sons it was going to pass on to. Not only that, but he wanted to pass his name on to his sons unmarked, so that they could live without their father condemned a witch. Giles died while the court was trying to get an answer out of him: "Great stones they lay upon his chest until he plead aye or nay. With a tender smile for the old man: They say he give them but two words. "More Weight," he says. And died" (135). Giles is so adamant that his name passing lawfully and religiously on to his sons. He endured such an agonizing death, only embracing it in defiance.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Crucible Ocho
1.) Proctor: "A fire, a fire is burning! I hear the boot of Lucifer. I see his filthy face! And it is my face, and yours, Danforth! For them that quail to bring men out of ignorance, as I have quailed, and as you quail now when you know in all your black hearts that this be fraud--God damns our kind especially, and we will burn, we will burn together!" (Miller 119-120)
Proctor has lost it. He can not, no matter how he tries, persuade the court that there is nothing unnatural about these girls, especially after Abby's little charade. Proctor is fed up with it, and calls the court out. He claims that the devil's face is not what they believe it to be, but that it is in fact, themselves. The people that fear to find the truth, but rather wallow in their ignorance because it is safe--those are who Proctor calls the Devil. The court fears the truth. They have undergone this entire situation as if everything was true, and condemning innocents because of it. Now that they have been shown the truth, they are afraid of acknowledging it, because it would prove their fallibility and everything would be their fault. They will burn because they are the reason the madness still continues. Their fear will cause the madness to spread like a virus, infecting other villages until it consumes them all. If they had gotten over it at this time, it would all be over.
2.) Parris: "Judge Hathorne--it were another sort that hanged till now. Rebecca Nurse is no Bridget that lived three year with Bishop before she married him. John Proctor is not Isaac Ward that drank his family to ruin. To Danforth: I would to God it were not so, Excellency, but these people have great weight yet in the town. Let Rebecca stand upon the gibbet and send up some righteous prayer, and I fear she'll wake a vengeance on you" (127).
John Proctor is condemned!? Inconceivable! Well, actually, pretty conceivable, considering the end of the last act. Parris is starting to doubt. At first, he was itching to cry "witch!" at someone, and would not believe proof of anything to the contrary. Now, he is starting to wonder. Rebecca Nurse, who is condemned, is not a bad person. She is a respectable woman in the town with some weight in it. She has never harmed anyone, except for Putnam's accusations, and those are only accusations. John Proctor's only blemish before his attack on the court was that he did not go to church, but still was religious. Parris knows that the people they are condemning for the Devil's servants are far from that. Not only that, but he knows the people they are condemning are popular in town. Hanging them could spark a rebellion in town, just like the whispers in Andover.
Proctor has lost it. He can not, no matter how he tries, persuade the court that there is nothing unnatural about these girls, especially after Abby's little charade. Proctor is fed up with it, and calls the court out. He claims that the devil's face is not what they believe it to be, but that it is in fact, themselves. The people that fear to find the truth, but rather wallow in their ignorance because it is safe--those are who Proctor calls the Devil. The court fears the truth. They have undergone this entire situation as if everything was true, and condemning innocents because of it. Now that they have been shown the truth, they are afraid of acknowledging it, because it would prove their fallibility and everything would be their fault. They will burn because they are the reason the madness still continues. Their fear will cause the madness to spread like a virus, infecting other villages until it consumes them all. If they had gotten over it at this time, it would all be over.
2.) Parris: "Judge Hathorne--it were another sort that hanged till now. Rebecca Nurse is no Bridget that lived three year with Bishop before she married him. John Proctor is not Isaac Ward that drank his family to ruin. To Danforth: I would to God it were not so, Excellency, but these people have great weight yet in the town. Let Rebecca stand upon the gibbet and send up some righteous prayer, and I fear she'll wake a vengeance on you" (127).
John Proctor is condemned!? Inconceivable! Well, actually, pretty conceivable, considering the end of the last act. Parris is starting to doubt. At first, he was itching to cry "witch!" at someone, and would not believe proof of anything to the contrary. Now, he is starting to wonder. Rebecca Nurse, who is condemned, is not a bad person. She is a respectable woman in the town with some weight in it. She has never harmed anyone, except for Putnam's accusations, and those are only accusations. John Proctor's only blemish before his attack on the court was that he did not go to church, but still was religious. Parris knows that the people they are condemning for the Devil's servants are far from that. Not only that, but he knows the people they are condemning are popular in town. Hanging them could spark a rebellion in town, just like the whispers in Andover.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Crucible Siete
1.) Danforth: "Abigail. I bid you now search your heart and tell me this--and beware of it, child, to God every soul is precious and His vengeance is terrible on them that take life without cause. Is it possible, child, that the spirits you have seen are illusion only, some deception that may cross your mind when--" (Miller 108)
Danforth says that God is vicious on those who kill without cause. Meanwhile, he has been killing without cause! He speaks from the perspective of God's eyes, and likewise, he has no cause in God's eyes. He has an earthly cause--that these people are accused of witchcraft by their court--but in truth, these are innocents. Danforth has ordered near a hundred to hang, and he thought it was for a just cause. The Court, including Danforth, believe themselves to be God, not in the literal sense, but they are putting themselves in His shoes. They believe themselves infallible, and that their word is law. When he is questioning Abigail if she is lying, Danforth is drawing away any blame from himself and washing his hands of it. He realizes that, with this new evidence, maybe he was the one unjustly taking lives, but he instead puts the blame on Abigail. Instead of thinking the spirits he saw were false, he questions whether the spirits Abigail saw were false. He saw the same spirits as Abby, and yet he believes that he cannot be wrong.
2.) Proctor: "I have made a bell of my honor! I have rung the doom of my good name--you will believe me, Mr. Danforth! My wife is innocent, except she knew a whore when she saw one!" (111)
Proctor did it. He told the court of his affair and his lechery. Unable to stand Abby's connivery any longer, he explodes, calling her a whore. He had to give Danfroth proof, and the proof was his unfaithfulness. When Danforth questions Abby, she threatens him that she will walk out: "If I must answer that, I will leave and I will not come back again!" (111). Afraid of losing his only chance of making the court indeed seem infallible, Danfsorth falters. Proctor has flaunted his affair now, all for his wife. He confessed his sins--knowing there is no way to redeem himself--and gave Abby a possible motive. Still however, Danforth does not believe him fully. Proctor has done so much, and it was all for nothing. Imagine the courage Proctor needed to admit such a blemish. He had to get over so much, and yet Danforth will not believe him. Abby has more sway over Danforth than Proctor does, even though Proctor is the older, more sensible choice than the 17-year-old. They have both not been as "faithful", in the court's eyes, as someone should be, so they cannot be discriminated against for that. Still, though, Danforth chooses Abigail.
Danforth says that God is vicious on those who kill without cause. Meanwhile, he has been killing without cause! He speaks from the perspective of God's eyes, and likewise, he has no cause in God's eyes. He has an earthly cause--that these people are accused of witchcraft by their court--but in truth, these are innocents. Danforth has ordered near a hundred to hang, and he thought it was for a just cause. The Court, including Danforth, believe themselves to be God, not in the literal sense, but they are putting themselves in His shoes. They believe themselves infallible, and that their word is law. When he is questioning Abigail if she is lying, Danforth is drawing away any blame from himself and washing his hands of it. He realizes that, with this new evidence, maybe he was the one unjustly taking lives, but he instead puts the blame on Abigail. Instead of thinking the spirits he saw were false, he questions whether the spirits Abigail saw were false. He saw the same spirits as Abby, and yet he believes that he cannot be wrong.
2.) Proctor: "I have made a bell of my honor! I have rung the doom of my good name--you will believe me, Mr. Danforth! My wife is innocent, except she knew a whore when she saw one!" (111)
Proctor did it. He told the court of his affair and his lechery. Unable to stand Abby's connivery any longer, he explodes, calling her a whore. He had to give Danfroth proof, and the proof was his unfaithfulness. When Danforth questions Abby, she threatens him that she will walk out: "If I must answer that, I will leave and I will not come back again!" (111). Afraid of losing his only chance of making the court indeed seem infallible, Danfsorth falters. Proctor has flaunted his affair now, all for his wife. He confessed his sins--knowing there is no way to redeem himself--and gave Abby a possible motive. Still however, Danforth does not believe him fully. Proctor has done so much, and it was all for nothing. Imagine the courage Proctor needed to admit such a blemish. He had to get over so much, and yet Danforth will not believe him. Abby has more sway over Danforth than Proctor does, even though Proctor is the older, more sensible choice than the 17-year-old. They have both not been as "faithful", in the court's eyes, as someone should be, so they cannot be discriminated against for that. Still, though, Danforth chooses Abigail.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Crucible Seis
1.) Danforth: "I tell you straight, Mister--I have seen marvels in this court. I have seen people choked before my eyes by spirits; I have seen them stuck by pins and slashed by daggers. I have until this moment not the slightest reason to suspect that the children may be deceiving me. Do you understand my meaning?" (Miller 90).
Danforth is in a sticky situation. As we find out, Danforth is the member of court that issues warrants, jails, and condemns people. Even if the judges are the ones who make the decisions, there is still a lot of weight thrust upon his shoulders. He has jailed close to four hundred people because of this witchcraft case, and has even sentenced seventy-two more people to hang, all by his own hand. Until now, he has had to no reason suspect that anything he was doing was wrong, no reason to suspect deception. He, like most of the court, believed what they were doing was just. Now that Proctor comes forth claiming it was all an elaborate hoax, Danforth has near 500 lives on his conscience. If what Proctor says is true, Danforth has searched villagers' homes and taken them against their will for nothing. He has locked near 400 villagers' up without a just cause. Even more severe, he has killed seventy-two innocents because of a handful of teenage girls. The magnitude of the situation is enough to make any man quiver. After what Danforth has seen, he has had no reason to doubt until now.
2.) Giles: "My proof is there! [...] If Jacobs hangs for a witch he forfeit up his property--that's law! And there is none but Putnam with the coin to buy so great a piece. This man is killing his neighbors for their land!" (96).
Putnam is shown for what he really is. Giles shows Danforth a valid motive for accusing Jacobs as a witch(Rachael, men apparently CAN be witches in this...even though they should be warlocks). Putnam is obsessed with land, as is evident from the land dispute between the Putnams and the Nurses. If Jacobs hangs, his land goes up for auction, and the only person who will be able to buy that land is Putnam. That is enough incentive to call anyone a witch. Who knew Giles would be able to come up with such an intelligent motive. It would hold up in any court of law. This relates back to our discussion of the characters' true motives. Putnam is sneaky and will do anything for land, even making his own daughter cry out against someone for it. Ironically, Danforth does not believe it, or at least asks for proof: "But proof, sir, proof" (96). This is the same society that believes any accusing finger of witchcraft, yet needs proof for a reason behind it. Logically, it does not make sense.
Danforth is in a sticky situation. As we find out, Danforth is the member of court that issues warrants, jails, and condemns people. Even if the judges are the ones who make the decisions, there is still a lot of weight thrust upon his shoulders. He has jailed close to four hundred people because of this witchcraft case, and has even sentenced seventy-two more people to hang, all by his own hand. Until now, he has had to no reason suspect that anything he was doing was wrong, no reason to suspect deception. He, like most of the court, believed what they were doing was just. Now that Proctor comes forth claiming it was all an elaborate hoax, Danforth has near 500 lives on his conscience. If what Proctor says is true, Danforth has searched villagers' homes and taken them against their will for nothing. He has locked near 400 villagers' up without a just cause. Even more severe, he has killed seventy-two innocents because of a handful of teenage girls. The magnitude of the situation is enough to make any man quiver. After what Danforth has seen, he has had no reason to doubt until now.
2.) Giles: "My proof is there! [...] If Jacobs hangs for a witch he forfeit up his property--that's law! And there is none but Putnam with the coin to buy so great a piece. This man is killing his neighbors for their land!" (96).
Putnam is shown for what he really is. Giles shows Danforth a valid motive for accusing Jacobs as a witch(Rachael, men apparently CAN be witches in this...even though they should be warlocks). Putnam is obsessed with land, as is evident from the land dispute between the Putnams and the Nurses. If Jacobs hangs, his land goes up for auction, and the only person who will be able to buy that land is Putnam. That is enough incentive to call anyone a witch. Who knew Giles would be able to come up with such an intelligent motive. It would hold up in any court of law. This relates back to our discussion of the characters' true motives. Putnam is sneaky and will do anything for land, even making his own daughter cry out against someone for it. Ironically, Danforth does not believe it, or at least asks for proof: "But proof, sir, proof" (96). This is the same society that believes any accusing finger of witchcraft, yet needs proof for a reason behind it. Logically, it does not make sense.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
The Crucible Cinco
1.) Francis Nurse: "with a mocking, half-hearted laugh: For murder, she's charged! Mockingly quoting the warrant: 'For the marvelous and supernatural murder of Goody Putnam's babies.' What am I to do, Mr. Hale?"
Rebecca's charge is absurd. What proof can possibly be given to prove this fact other than the hysterical ravings of death-ridden spinster? I want to know what proof could possibly be given in court to support this. Like Mr. George pointed out a few classes ago when I tried to argue communicating with dead babies, these people are arguing the technicality of an absurdity. They have brought a case to court over the proposed murder of seven babies by supernatural means. While they may think they are still arguing technicalities, it is all of an absurdity, which erego renders the entire argument invalid. Goody Putnam is accusing Rebecca only because her children have prospered and her own have not. Just because Rebecca is a better mother than Ann does not mean she is a witch. Any characteristic or ability that someone excels at is automatically considered for witchcraft because other people are jealous.
2.) John Proctor: "If she is innocent! Why do you never wonder if Parris be innocent, or Abigail? Is the accuser always holy now? Were they born this morning as clean as God's fingers? I'll tell you what's walking Salem--vengeance is walking Salem. We are what we always were in Salem, but now the little crazy children are jangling the keys of the kingdom, and common vengeance writes the law! This warrant's vengeance! I'll not give my wife to vengeance!"
Proctor points out the very thing we have been saying for a while now. The only way to escape the accusation of witchcraft is to point out others. Meanwhile, the accuser is venerated as a godsend. It is a win-win situation for the accuser, but then the accused is not even given an option. They are either a reformed servant of the devil, or dead. And who is running the entire show? A group of power-hungry teenagers led by a lovesick, conniving she-devil of a girl. The entire village is wrapped around Abigail's finger, and now whatever she says is worshipped as God's word. The power has gotten to her head, and yet, no one has questioned her yet, as Proctor states. They are at this girl's beck and call, but how do they know she is not weaving witchcraft in the woodwork? The true reason, as Proctor points out, for everything is vengeance. The Putnams accused the nurses because of their land feud. Abigail accused Elizabeth because of her love for John. The signs of witchcraft in this society are not whether someone is dancing in the forest or drinking blood, but the feelings of contempt in their enemies. People point their fingers because of their own feelings of hatred, not the signs of the other person.
Rebecca's charge is absurd. What proof can possibly be given to prove this fact other than the hysterical ravings of death-ridden spinster? I want to know what proof could possibly be given in court to support this. Like Mr. George pointed out a few classes ago when I tried to argue communicating with dead babies, these people are arguing the technicality of an absurdity. They have brought a case to court over the proposed murder of seven babies by supernatural means. While they may think they are still arguing technicalities, it is all of an absurdity, which erego renders the entire argument invalid. Goody Putnam is accusing Rebecca only because her children have prospered and her own have not. Just because Rebecca is a better mother than Ann does not mean she is a witch. Any characteristic or ability that someone excels at is automatically considered for witchcraft because other people are jealous.
2.) John Proctor: "If she is innocent! Why do you never wonder if Parris be innocent, or Abigail? Is the accuser always holy now? Were they born this morning as clean as God's fingers? I'll tell you what's walking Salem--vengeance is walking Salem. We are what we always were in Salem, but now the little crazy children are jangling the keys of the kingdom, and common vengeance writes the law! This warrant's vengeance! I'll not give my wife to vengeance!"
Proctor points out the very thing we have been saying for a while now. The only way to escape the accusation of witchcraft is to point out others. Meanwhile, the accuser is venerated as a godsend. It is a win-win situation for the accuser, but then the accused is not even given an option. They are either a reformed servant of the devil, or dead. And who is running the entire show? A group of power-hungry teenagers led by a lovesick, conniving she-devil of a girl. The entire village is wrapped around Abigail's finger, and now whatever she says is worshipped as God's word. The power has gotten to her head, and yet, no one has questioned her yet, as Proctor states. They are at this girl's beck and call, but how do they know she is not weaving witchcraft in the woodwork? The true reason, as Proctor points out, for everything is vengeance. The Putnams accused the nurses because of their land feud. Abigail accused Elizabeth because of her love for John. The signs of witchcraft in this society are not whether someone is dancing in the forest or drinking blood, but the feelings of contempt in their enemies. People point their fingers because of their own feelings of hatred, not the signs of the other person.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Pride and Prejudice main essay
Scott Pero
AP English Language/Mr. George
December 6, 2009
Who do you think is most to blame
for the delay of their felicity, Darcy or Elizabeth?
Beautiful Pride and Beastly Prejudice
“There’s something there that wasn’t there before.” This is a memorable quote from the Disney film, Beauty and the Beast. It is a story of love, about love found in unexpected places. Belle, the beautiful protagonist, is held prisoner by a ferocious beast with more to his character than his grizzly exterior. As the story progresses, the Beast overcomes his savage tendencies and begins to love Belle. Belle, in turn, develops feelings of care and adoration for the Beast. In the end, both discover their soul mate in the other, and, like all fairy tales, live happily ever after. A striking literary comparison to Beauty and the Beast is Jane Austen’s novel, Pride and Prejudice. The novel details the life of its protagonist, Elizabeth Bennet. Throughout the course of the story, Elizabeth encounters various potential suitors, one of which is the handsome Mr. Darcy. After a long period of grievances on both sides, Elizabeth and Darcy finally realize their feelings for the other and, like Belle and the Beast, live happily ever after. The question however, is this: which is the Beauty, and which is the Beast? The Beast’s feral actions and his original hatred for everyone and everything are the reasons why he and Belle could not at first live happily. They both had to conquer these brutish acts to fully bask in their felicity in the same way that Elizabeth and Darcy underwent hardships to be together. One of the two had to be at fault for the hindrance of their happiness, but which one? Elizabeth is the most to blame for the delay of her and Darcy’s felicity because her faults with Darcy greatly outnumbers Darcy’s faults with Elizabeth.
It is essential when arguing the faults of one to argue the faults of the other party involved in a situation. Darcy, as well as Elizabeth, contributed to the delay of their happiness. The first of his blunders damaged the pride of Elizabeth and originally gave birth to her strong hatred towards Darcy. In the text, when Darcy first makes his appearance at the ball, he does not dance with anyone, aside from those within his own party. Mr. Bingley, Darcy’s friend, importunes him to dance with someone. He even goes so far as to suggest dancing with Elizabeth, who is sitting close enough to hear their entire conversation. After Darcy glances at Elizabeth, his response will stay with Elizabeth for most of the story: “He [Darcy] looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eyes, he withdrew his own and coldly said, ‘She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me’” (Austen 7). Even though Darcy was simply showing off in front of his friend to detract from his awkward social skills, Elizabeth’s pride was hurt as a result. She can not stand him now because he insulted her from the very first moment they met. Darcy’s faux pas is enough, in Elizabeth’s eyes, to warrant her hatred in all instances and will make his second fault all the more deplorable.
As we learn in the text, Darcy broke up the relationship between Bingley and Jane, Elizabeth’s sister. Darcy felt that Jane did not love Bingley as much Bingley loved her, and so he orchestrated their separation for what he thought was Bingley’s own good. Elizabeth, loving her own sister more than anything else in the world, discovers a new level of bitterness for Darcy after she finds out that Darcy was the one who separated them and who caused Jane so much misery: “‘Do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man, who has been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?’” (146). Because Darcy separated Bingley and Jane, he gave Elizabeth reason to despise him entirely. Darcy did not know the true extent of Jane’s love for Bingley, and he was doing what he thought was right, but in doing so, he prolonged the happiness he could have ascertained with Elizabeth much sooner.
Though Darcy contributed his fair share of faults, Elizabeth is even more to blame. The past is the past. It is over and done with, and should be forgotten so one can move forward with their life: “You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure” (282). That one is not Elizabeth, even though she may say that it is her philosophy when she finally accepts Darcy’s proposal. On the contrary, she clings to Darcy’s original insult for the entire duration of their acquaintance. Darcy explains that the reason he did not dance with anyone at the first ball was because he does not have the proper skills for associating with unknown people as others do, to which Elizabeth wittily responds: “‘My fingers…do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women’s do...But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault—because I would not take the trouble of practicing. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman’s of superior execution’” (135). Here, Elizabeth’s hostility towards Darcy is still as vehement as ever. Elizabeth will not accept any excuses for Darcy’s behavior. No matter what he does, she still remembers that one incident, even after this time. She will not let go, and so she can not get over it to be with Darcy.
Elizabeth encounters trouble with her first impressions. It is very difficult for her to surpass them. Elizabeth is too proud to concede to someone else, and once she believes something, she must be right no matter what. It took her nearly the entire novel to get over her first impression of Darcy: “His character [Darcy’s] was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world, and every body hoped that he would never come there again” (7). Not only does Elizabeth believe this, but also her entire family does to some extent. She refuses to believe that Darcy is anything but what she see sees him as.
Not only does Elizabeth hold a preconceived notion of Darcy in her mind, but Wickham as well. When she first meets Wickham, his past with Darcy is what partly attracts her to him. Elizabeth is already determined to loathe Darcy, and so anyone who is an enemy of Darcy is automatically a friend of Elizabeth. With Wickham, however, she has some help from Wickham himself: “His appearance was greatly in his favour; he had all the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. The introduction was followed upon his side by a happy readiness of conversation—a readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming” (54). Wickham is so handsome and charming; Elizabeth would be a fool not to feel something—anything—for him. Elizabeth, however, gets wrenched into the whirlpool of his looks and manners. For most of the novel, she is trapped within his swirling tides, unable to break free or believe anything else but what Wickham tells her. Eventually, Elizabeth drowns in her own prejudice.
Prejudice, as well as pride, is Elizabeth’s fatal flaw. She is prone to taking sides in an argument as though they were sports teams. Often, she will never let those sides go, even if her team is discovered to be the one cheating. When Caroline Bingley approaches Elizabeth to caution her against Wickham, Elizabeth’s prejudice seeps out: “‘His guilt and his descent appear by your account to be the same…for I have heard you accuse him of nothing worse than of being the son of Mr. Darcy’s steward, and of that, I can assure you, he informed me himself’” (72). Elizabeth will not listen to reason; she is focused on seeing Wickham as a heavenly angel when he acts like a hellish demon. She ignores Caroline’s advice both because she despises Caroline and because of her partiality to Wickham, which clouds her mind from reason. These blinding prejudices keep Elizabeth from her ultimate happiness with Darcy.
When Darcy proposes to Elizabeth for the first time, we see how cold and ruthless and Elizabeth can be. Darcy falls to pieces with emotion, holding his heart on his sleeve, in front of her. He pleads with her to end his agony by marrying him. What does Elizabeth do? She retaliates by insulting him and rubbing his face in the fact that everything he thought he was right was in fact pushing away the woman he loves forever: “‘From the very beginning… your manners impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form that ground-work of disapprobation…and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry’” (148). Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and with this rejection Elizabeth has opened the very gates of hell to Darcy. Consumed with anger, Elizabeth does not hold back one inch in her merciless onslaught of this shy, lovesick man. Elizabeth could have been happy with Darcy if she had only accepted his proposal, but because she did not, both Darcy and she are miserable. Also because of this, she damaged potentially damaged any hope of reconciliation in the future.
Elizabeth’s expectations fly higher than they sky. After a heartless rejection on her part, one which not many men could recover from, Elizabeth receives a letter explaining his actions and she notices a change in his behavior. She gets to know Mr. Darcy better, and soon begins to develop feelings for him and his abundant kindness. Now, Elizabeth knows she loves him, and she feels something within her that wasn’t there before. Even more surprising, she wants to make Darcy propose again: “She respected, she esteemed, she was grateful to him, she felt a real interest in his welfare; and she only wanted to know how far she wished that welfare to depend upon herself, and how far it would be for the happiness of both that she should employ that power…of bringing on the renewal of his addresses” (201). Now that Elizabeth realizes her feelings, she wants Darcy to propose again, this time so that she may say yes. Who, however, would want to propose a second time after being so barbarously shot down the first time? No one would wish to go through the anguish Darcy had to all over again. Elizabeth ruined her future chances with him, and now because of her expectations, she is further digging herself a hole from which she will not be able to crawl out.
Elizabeth’s actions were the ones to keep Darcy and herself apart, and no one else’s. Darcy did at first insult Elizabeth, but Elizabeth was the one who refused to bite the bullet and get over it. Darcy separated Jane and Bingley, but his intentions were good and he simply did not know all the facts. Meanwhile, Elizabeth’s prejudice blinded her from seeing clearly, and she humiliated the one man who loved her pride and intelligence more than anything in the world. Everything that kept Elizabeth and Darcy from supreme felicity could have been prevented if not for Elizabeth’s mistakes. The important and crucial detail, however, is that they did end up happy. It was just a matter of how long it took them. The question pertaining to who—Darcy or Elizabeth—was the Beast and who was the Beauty, can now be answered. Elizabeth’s beastly actions kept her from her beauty, Darcy. Thankfully, Darcy was someone who could, like Belle, learn to love a beast.
Works cited
Austen, Jane. Pride and Prejudice. United States: Oxford University, 1990
AP English Language/Mr. George
December 6, 2009
Who do you think is most to blame
for the delay of their felicity, Darcy or Elizabeth?
Beautiful Pride and Beastly Prejudice
“There’s something there that wasn’t there before.” This is a memorable quote from the Disney film, Beauty and the Beast. It is a story of love, about love found in unexpected places. Belle, the beautiful protagonist, is held prisoner by a ferocious beast with more to his character than his grizzly exterior. As the story progresses, the Beast overcomes his savage tendencies and begins to love Belle. Belle, in turn, develops feelings of care and adoration for the Beast. In the end, both discover their soul mate in the other, and, like all fairy tales, live happily ever after. A striking literary comparison to Beauty and the Beast is Jane Austen’s novel, Pride and Prejudice. The novel details the life of its protagonist, Elizabeth Bennet. Throughout the course of the story, Elizabeth encounters various potential suitors, one of which is the handsome Mr. Darcy. After a long period of grievances on both sides, Elizabeth and Darcy finally realize their feelings for the other and, like Belle and the Beast, live happily ever after. The question however, is this: which is the Beauty, and which is the Beast? The Beast’s feral actions and his original hatred for everyone and everything are the reasons why he and Belle could not at first live happily. They both had to conquer these brutish acts to fully bask in their felicity in the same way that Elizabeth and Darcy underwent hardships to be together. One of the two had to be at fault for the hindrance of their happiness, but which one? Elizabeth is the most to blame for the delay of her and Darcy’s felicity because her faults with Darcy greatly outnumbers Darcy’s faults with Elizabeth.
It is essential when arguing the faults of one to argue the faults of the other party involved in a situation. Darcy, as well as Elizabeth, contributed to the delay of their happiness. The first of his blunders damaged the pride of Elizabeth and originally gave birth to her strong hatred towards Darcy. In the text, when Darcy first makes his appearance at the ball, he does not dance with anyone, aside from those within his own party. Mr. Bingley, Darcy’s friend, importunes him to dance with someone. He even goes so far as to suggest dancing with Elizabeth, who is sitting close enough to hear their entire conversation. After Darcy glances at Elizabeth, his response will stay with Elizabeth for most of the story: “He [Darcy] looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eyes, he withdrew his own and coldly said, ‘She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me’” (Austen 7). Even though Darcy was simply showing off in front of his friend to detract from his awkward social skills, Elizabeth’s pride was hurt as a result. She can not stand him now because he insulted her from the very first moment they met. Darcy’s faux pas is enough, in Elizabeth’s eyes, to warrant her hatred in all instances and will make his second fault all the more deplorable.
As we learn in the text, Darcy broke up the relationship between Bingley and Jane, Elizabeth’s sister. Darcy felt that Jane did not love Bingley as much Bingley loved her, and so he orchestrated their separation for what he thought was Bingley’s own good. Elizabeth, loving her own sister more than anything else in the world, discovers a new level of bitterness for Darcy after she finds out that Darcy was the one who separated them and who caused Jane so much misery: “‘Do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man, who has been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?’” (146). Because Darcy separated Bingley and Jane, he gave Elizabeth reason to despise him entirely. Darcy did not know the true extent of Jane’s love for Bingley, and he was doing what he thought was right, but in doing so, he prolonged the happiness he could have ascertained with Elizabeth much sooner.
Though Darcy contributed his fair share of faults, Elizabeth is even more to blame. The past is the past. It is over and done with, and should be forgotten so one can move forward with their life: “You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure” (282). That one is not Elizabeth, even though she may say that it is her philosophy when she finally accepts Darcy’s proposal. On the contrary, she clings to Darcy’s original insult for the entire duration of their acquaintance. Darcy explains that the reason he did not dance with anyone at the first ball was because he does not have the proper skills for associating with unknown people as others do, to which Elizabeth wittily responds: “‘My fingers…do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women’s do...But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault—because I would not take the trouble of practicing. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman’s of superior execution’” (135). Here, Elizabeth’s hostility towards Darcy is still as vehement as ever. Elizabeth will not accept any excuses for Darcy’s behavior. No matter what he does, she still remembers that one incident, even after this time. She will not let go, and so she can not get over it to be with Darcy.
Elizabeth encounters trouble with her first impressions. It is very difficult for her to surpass them. Elizabeth is too proud to concede to someone else, and once she believes something, she must be right no matter what. It took her nearly the entire novel to get over her first impression of Darcy: “His character [Darcy’s] was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world, and every body hoped that he would never come there again” (7). Not only does Elizabeth believe this, but also her entire family does to some extent. She refuses to believe that Darcy is anything but what she see sees him as.
Not only does Elizabeth hold a preconceived notion of Darcy in her mind, but Wickham as well. When she first meets Wickham, his past with Darcy is what partly attracts her to him. Elizabeth is already determined to loathe Darcy, and so anyone who is an enemy of Darcy is automatically a friend of Elizabeth. With Wickham, however, she has some help from Wickham himself: “His appearance was greatly in his favour; he had all the best part of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. The introduction was followed upon his side by a happy readiness of conversation—a readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming” (54). Wickham is so handsome and charming; Elizabeth would be a fool not to feel something—anything—for him. Elizabeth, however, gets wrenched into the whirlpool of his looks and manners. For most of the novel, she is trapped within his swirling tides, unable to break free or believe anything else but what Wickham tells her. Eventually, Elizabeth drowns in her own prejudice.
Prejudice, as well as pride, is Elizabeth’s fatal flaw. She is prone to taking sides in an argument as though they were sports teams. Often, she will never let those sides go, even if her team is discovered to be the one cheating. When Caroline Bingley approaches Elizabeth to caution her against Wickham, Elizabeth’s prejudice seeps out: “‘His guilt and his descent appear by your account to be the same…for I have heard you accuse him of nothing worse than of being the son of Mr. Darcy’s steward, and of that, I can assure you, he informed me himself’” (72). Elizabeth will not listen to reason; she is focused on seeing Wickham as a heavenly angel when he acts like a hellish demon. She ignores Caroline’s advice both because she despises Caroline and because of her partiality to Wickham, which clouds her mind from reason. These blinding prejudices keep Elizabeth from her ultimate happiness with Darcy.
When Darcy proposes to Elizabeth for the first time, we see how cold and ruthless and Elizabeth can be. Darcy falls to pieces with emotion, holding his heart on his sleeve, in front of her. He pleads with her to end his agony by marrying him. What does Elizabeth do? She retaliates by insulting him and rubbing his face in the fact that everything he thought he was right was in fact pushing away the woman he loves forever: “‘From the very beginning… your manners impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form that ground-work of disapprobation…and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry’” (148). Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and with this rejection Elizabeth has opened the very gates of hell to Darcy. Consumed with anger, Elizabeth does not hold back one inch in her merciless onslaught of this shy, lovesick man. Elizabeth could have been happy with Darcy if she had only accepted his proposal, but because she did not, both Darcy and she are miserable. Also because of this, she damaged potentially damaged any hope of reconciliation in the future.
Elizabeth’s expectations fly higher than they sky. After a heartless rejection on her part, one which not many men could recover from, Elizabeth receives a letter explaining his actions and she notices a change in his behavior. She gets to know Mr. Darcy better, and soon begins to develop feelings for him and his abundant kindness. Now, Elizabeth knows she loves him, and she feels something within her that wasn’t there before. Even more surprising, she wants to make Darcy propose again: “She respected, she esteemed, she was grateful to him, she felt a real interest in his welfare; and she only wanted to know how far she wished that welfare to depend upon herself, and how far it would be for the happiness of both that she should employ that power…of bringing on the renewal of his addresses” (201). Now that Elizabeth realizes her feelings, she wants Darcy to propose again, this time so that she may say yes. Who, however, would want to propose a second time after being so barbarously shot down the first time? No one would wish to go through the anguish Darcy had to all over again. Elizabeth ruined her future chances with him, and now because of her expectations, she is further digging herself a hole from which she will not be able to crawl out.
Elizabeth’s actions were the ones to keep Darcy and herself apart, and no one else’s. Darcy did at first insult Elizabeth, but Elizabeth was the one who refused to bite the bullet and get over it. Darcy separated Jane and Bingley, but his intentions were good and he simply did not know all the facts. Meanwhile, Elizabeth’s prejudice blinded her from seeing clearly, and she humiliated the one man who loved her pride and intelligence more than anything in the world. Everything that kept Elizabeth and Darcy from supreme felicity could have been prevented if not for Elizabeth’s mistakes. The important and crucial detail, however, is that they did end up happy. It was just a matter of how long it took them. The question pertaining to who—Darcy or Elizabeth—was the Beast and who was the Beauty, can now be answered. Elizabeth’s beastly actions kept her from her beauty, Darcy. Thankfully, Darcy was someone who could, like Belle, learn to love a beast.
Works cited
Austen, Jane. Pride and Prejudice. United States: Oxford University, 1990
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Crucible Cuatro
1) "Spare me! I forget nothin' and forgive nothin'./...I have gone tiptoe in this house all/ seven month since she is gone. I have not moved from there to there without I think to please you, and still an everlasting/ funeral marches round your heart. I cannot speak but I am/ doubted, every moment judged for lies, as though I come into/ a court when I come into this house!" (Miller 55)
John Proctor knows what he did was wrong. He had an affair, but he can not escape it. No matter what he does, the memory of his infidelity lingers at every turn and around every corner. Now, we know that his wife, Elizabeth, knows of his adultery as well: "John, if it were not Abigail that you must go to hurt, would you falter now? I think not" (54). Proctor has enough problems already. Every time he comes home and sees his wife, he has to painfully remember how unfaithful he was to her, and how ignorant Elizabeth is of it. Now that she knows, however, and it can be surmised that she has known for a while, it is all the more harder for him. I feel so bad for Proctor, having to look the woman he loves and said 'I do' to in the eye and think only of the teenager he used once as a release. This stigma will not go away easily, no matter how fervently John wishes it so.
2) "Theology, sir, is a fortress; no crack in a fortress may be/ accounted small" (67).
Alot of the townspeople think of theology and religion as a fortress, as Reverend Hale has said. They built their town upon it; religion is the foundation of their entire world. Theology is the villagers' everyday life. It is the reason they rise from bed and go about their jobs in the community. It is the reason they form families and why they stay so true to them. Theology is venerated as a reason for them to leave their homeland in England and invade the homeland of the Native Americans, battling them back further into America's untamed wilderness so that they may live in peace. They use theology as a shield as well. Religion protects them from things they do not understand, such as the forest nipping at the brim of their society. Theology is their sword for attacking the unjust and the wicked. Religion is the finger they point at those they despise, using its name in vain to call someone a witch. Theology has woven itself into every nook and cranny of these peoples' lives. It has literally become their lives. One small crack in it, and their entire world comes crumbling to the ground.
John Proctor knows what he did was wrong. He had an affair, but he can not escape it. No matter what he does, the memory of his infidelity lingers at every turn and around every corner. Now, we know that his wife, Elizabeth, knows of his adultery as well: "John, if it were not Abigail that you must go to hurt, would you falter now? I think not" (54). Proctor has enough problems already. Every time he comes home and sees his wife, he has to painfully remember how unfaithful he was to her, and how ignorant Elizabeth is of it. Now that she knows, however, and it can be surmised that she has known for a while, it is all the more harder for him. I feel so bad for Proctor, having to look the woman he loves and said 'I do' to in the eye and think only of the teenager he used once as a release. This stigma will not go away easily, no matter how fervently John wishes it so.
2) "Theology, sir, is a fortress; no crack in a fortress may be/ accounted small" (67).
Alot of the townspeople think of theology and religion as a fortress, as Reverend Hale has said. They built their town upon it; religion is the foundation of their entire world. Theology is the villagers' everyday life. It is the reason they rise from bed and go about their jobs in the community. It is the reason they form families and why they stay so true to them. Theology is venerated as a reason for them to leave their homeland in England and invade the homeland of the Native Americans, battling them back further into America's untamed wilderness so that they may live in peace. They use theology as a shield as well. Religion protects them from things they do not understand, such as the forest nipping at the brim of their society. Theology is their sword for attacking the unjust and the wicked. Religion is the finger they point at those they despise, using its name in vain to call someone a witch. Theology has woven itself into every nook and cranny of these peoples' lives. It has literally become their lives. One small crack in it, and their entire world comes crumbling to the ground.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Crucible Tres
1) "Is it the Devil's fault that a man cannot say you good morning without you clap him for defamation?" (Miller 31).
John Proctor sees through the veil of the townspeoples' insanity. Possibly, this innate rationality is from living so far from town. He points out a flaw of the society and openly critiques it. What I liked about this quote was the blunt manner in which Proctor said it. When Giles was saying that the town has been drawn apart recently, he says it because of dark, unnatural forces pulling them apart. Then Proctor comes back with an awesome comeback. Basically, he asks, "Is it the Devil's fault we accuse each other of witchcraft at every turn?" It is a really good insight on his part. He is one of the villaers, but he sees that everyone is accusing people of witchcraft left and right. He does not acknowledge whether there is or is not yet, only that people are jumping at each other's throats to cry witch.
2) "We cannot look to superstition in this. The Devil is precise; the marks of his presence are definite as stone, and I must tell you all that I shall not proceed unless you are prepared to believe me if I should find no bruise of hell upon her" (38).
Enter Reverend Hale. The way he was described at first made it seem like he had never been called in like this before. This brings up the question of what exact experience he has in dealing with witches and the Devil like this. What does he know beyond books? Hale definitely sounds, at least, like everything he is doing is simply spitting out facts. He also seems very egotistical, since he is the only "professional" in the room. He lets this fact get to his head, and he always acts like the big shot. Something about the way he acts, though, makes it seem like he is full of it. There is one good aspect to his character, however, that is shown in this quote. This is his signature quote from the entire play, and it is evident as to why. He, like the rest of town, believes fervently in witches and the supernatural. The one difference between himself and the others, however, is that he is willing to say it is false. Other villagers, even if proven that someone was not a witch or was not touched by the devil(not that they would go to great lengths to prove it anyhow), would still go to their grave saying someone is a witch or someone is being witched. Hale, on the other hand, is willing to find proof and recognize it.
John Proctor sees through the veil of the townspeoples' insanity. Possibly, this innate rationality is from living so far from town. He points out a flaw of the society and openly critiques it. What I liked about this quote was the blunt manner in which Proctor said it. When Giles was saying that the town has been drawn apart recently, he says it because of dark, unnatural forces pulling them apart. Then Proctor comes back with an awesome comeback. Basically, he asks, "Is it the Devil's fault we accuse each other of witchcraft at every turn?" It is a really good insight on his part. He is one of the villaers, but he sees that everyone is accusing people of witchcraft left and right. He does not acknowledge whether there is or is not yet, only that people are jumping at each other's throats to cry witch.
2) "We cannot look to superstition in this. The Devil is precise; the marks of his presence are definite as stone, and I must tell you all that I shall not proceed unless you are prepared to believe me if I should find no bruise of hell upon her" (38).
Enter Reverend Hale. The way he was described at first made it seem like he had never been called in like this before. This brings up the question of what exact experience he has in dealing with witches and the Devil like this. What does he know beyond books? Hale definitely sounds, at least, like everything he is doing is simply spitting out facts. He also seems very egotistical, since he is the only "professional" in the room. He lets this fact get to his head, and he always acts like the big shot. Something about the way he acts, though, makes it seem like he is full of it. There is one good aspect to his character, however, that is shown in this quote. This is his signature quote from the entire play, and it is evident as to why. He, like the rest of town, believes fervently in witches and the supernatural. The one difference between himself and the others, however, is that he is willing to say it is false. Other villagers, even if proven that someone was not a witch or was not touched by the devil(not that they would go to great lengths to prove it anyhow), would still go to their grave saying someone is a witch or someone is being witched. Hale, on the other hand, is willing to find proof and recognize it.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
P&P Mini-essay--The Abridged Version!
Scott Pero
AP English Language/Mr. George
December 2, 2009
Lady Catherine as a class critique
Lady Classist de Bourgh
High school cliques—various sects composed of a certain type of student—are an everyday form of classism, or prejudice against a certain group in society. This type of society is greatly critiqued in Pride and Prejudice, a novel written by Jane Austen. To do this, Austen uses Lady Catherine de Bourgh, a governess of the upper class who constantly looks down on everyone around her. Austen utilizes Lady Catherine de Bourgh as a critique of the classist society by portraying her as the zenith of classism and relaying, through her actions, the absurdity and lack of merit attributed to the upper class.
Lady Catherine embodies every negative aspect that is associated with the upper class—she is wealthy and of a high-ranking family. In reality, however, Lady Catherine does not live up to the reputation attributed to her. She is an elitist, prejudiced control freak who is constantly condescending toward the lower classes: “[Lady Catherine’s] air was not conciliating…such as to make her visitors forget their inferior rank…whatever she said, was spoken in so authoritative a tone, as marked her self-importance” (Austen 125). Here, Austen describes how everyone around Lady Catherine is affected by her arrogance. To her, the world revolves around wealth and title. She compares people not by their merit, but their family’s income, reputation, and social status. They are all of a lower class, and according to Lady Catherine, they should know it.
When Lady Catherine visits Elizabeth after hearing a rumor of her marriage to Mr. Darcy, Lady Catherine again flaunts her social status and rank in order to intimidate the lower-ranking Elizabeth: “‘[Darcy and Miss de Bourgh] are destined for each other…and what is to divide them? The upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, connections, or fortune’” (272). Lady Catherine does not hold back in attacking Elizabeth, brusquely bringing up Elizabeth’s lack of wealth and title. She believes a union between Darcy and Elizabeth is a toxic pollutant that will forever tarnish her family’s name—something that would, due to her classist nature, mortify Lady Catherine.
Elizabeth drives Austen’s message deeper into the readers’ minds. She never backs down from Lady Catherine’s confrontations, and in the back of the readers’ minds, they are rooting for Elizabeth the entire time: “‘I am not to be intimidated into anything so wholly unreasonable…You have widely mistaken my character’” (273). The reader likes that Elizabeth is breaking barriers by climbing up the social ladder, and so Austen shows that the classist society can and should be overcome.
Lady Catherine is the mouthpiece for Austen’s stance on classism. By setting Lady Catherine as an antagonist, the audience despises her and everything she stands for. If she stands for classism, the reader will be the first to reprimand it. Also, Austen contrasts Lady Catherine with another member of the same class, Mr. Darcy. Though he is of the same class as Lady Catherine, he is willing to transcend the bonds of a classist society to be with the woman he loves, Elizabeth.
Classism, to Austen, is a wretched and unjust ideal. This is why she incorporates Lady Catherine to reinforce her beliefs and criticisms. Lady Catherine is a classist, condescending snob who embodies the upper class, and as such she is meant to be abhorred. Elizabeth, the readers’ favorite, is the one to shatter Lady Catherine’s elitist monopoly and further promote Austen’s stance; she is the new girl in school standing up to the mean rich girl. Like every high school story, the popular girl always falls in the end.
Works Cited
Austen, Jane. Pride and Prejudice. United States: Oxford University, 1990
AP English Language/Mr. George
December 2, 2009
Lady Catherine as a class critique
Lady Classist de Bourgh
High school cliques—various sects composed of a certain type of student—are an everyday form of classism, or prejudice against a certain group in society. This type of society is greatly critiqued in Pride and Prejudice, a novel written by Jane Austen. To do this, Austen uses Lady Catherine de Bourgh, a governess of the upper class who constantly looks down on everyone around her. Austen utilizes Lady Catherine de Bourgh as a critique of the classist society by portraying her as the zenith of classism and relaying, through her actions, the absurdity and lack of merit attributed to the upper class.
Lady Catherine embodies every negative aspect that is associated with the upper class—she is wealthy and of a high-ranking family. In reality, however, Lady Catherine does not live up to the reputation attributed to her. She is an elitist, prejudiced control freak who is constantly condescending toward the lower classes: “[Lady Catherine’s] air was not conciliating…such as to make her visitors forget their inferior rank…whatever she said, was spoken in so authoritative a tone, as marked her self-importance” (Austen 125). Here, Austen describes how everyone around Lady Catherine is affected by her arrogance. To her, the world revolves around wealth and title. She compares people not by their merit, but their family’s income, reputation, and social status. They are all of a lower class, and according to Lady Catherine, they should know it.
When Lady Catherine visits Elizabeth after hearing a rumor of her marriage to Mr. Darcy, Lady Catherine again flaunts her social status and rank in order to intimidate the lower-ranking Elizabeth: “‘[Darcy and Miss de Bourgh] are destined for each other…and what is to divide them? The upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, connections, or fortune’” (272). Lady Catherine does not hold back in attacking Elizabeth, brusquely bringing up Elizabeth’s lack of wealth and title. She believes a union between Darcy and Elizabeth is a toxic pollutant that will forever tarnish her family’s name—something that would, due to her classist nature, mortify Lady Catherine.
Elizabeth drives Austen’s message deeper into the readers’ minds. She never backs down from Lady Catherine’s confrontations, and in the back of the readers’ minds, they are rooting for Elizabeth the entire time: “‘I am not to be intimidated into anything so wholly unreasonable…You have widely mistaken my character’” (273). The reader likes that Elizabeth is breaking barriers by climbing up the social ladder, and so Austen shows that the classist society can and should be overcome.
Lady Catherine is the mouthpiece for Austen’s stance on classism. By setting Lady Catherine as an antagonist, the audience despises her and everything she stands for. If she stands for classism, the reader will be the first to reprimand it. Also, Austen contrasts Lady Catherine with another member of the same class, Mr. Darcy. Though he is of the same class as Lady Catherine, he is willing to transcend the bonds of a classist society to be with the woman he loves, Elizabeth.
Classism, to Austen, is a wretched and unjust ideal. This is why she incorporates Lady Catherine to reinforce her beliefs and criticisms. Lady Catherine is a classist, condescending snob who embodies the upper class, and as such she is meant to be abhorred. Elizabeth, the readers’ favorite, is the one to shatter Lady Catherine’s elitist monopoly and further promote Austen’s stance; she is the new girl in school standing up to the mean rich girl. Like every high school story, the popular girl always falls in the end.
Works Cited
Austen, Jane. Pride and Prejudice. United States: Oxford University, 1990
Crucible Dos
1) Betty: "You drank blood, Abby! You didn't tell him that!"
Abigail: "Betty, you never say that again! You will never--"
Betty: "You did, you did! You drank a charm to kill John Proctor's wife! You drank a charm to kill Goody Proctor!" (Miller, 19).
Here is the first evidence we have of anyone actually partaking in unnatural practices. I think Abigail is going t be a witch, for obvious reasons. Witches often were very adulterous beings in lore. We find out in this reading that Abigail had relations with John Proctor and now wants to kill his wife to have him to herself. Abigail and Mercy seem like the two witches we know of for sure, at this point. They both were in league with each other, and Mary Warren as well, even though she only saw their practices but did not partake in them. Thus we have the stereotypical triad of witches (a la Macbeth and Hocus Pocus?).
2) "I [Rebecca] think she'll wake when she tires of it. A child's spirit is like a child, you can never catch it by running after it; you must stand still, and, for love, it will soon itself come back" (26).
Rebecca Nurse is the only sane person in this entire society! Most likely we can attribute this to her age, but still. Everyone else screams, "Witchcraft!" at any sign of difference. Rebecca is the only person to look at a situation rationally. To every outrageous claim, she gives a logical answer that nobody else could think of. Here, she's chalking up Ruth's behavior to any child's playful mischief. When questioned as to why Ruth has not eaten yet, she responds, "Perhaps she is not hungered yet" (27). It's obvious, but in this type of setting, not something you would expect. I really like Rebecca.
Abigail: "Betty, you never say that again! You will never--"
Betty: "You did, you did! You drank a charm to kill John Proctor's wife! You drank a charm to kill Goody Proctor!" (Miller, 19).
Here is the first evidence we have of anyone actually partaking in unnatural practices. I think Abigail is going t be a witch, for obvious reasons. Witches often were very adulterous beings in lore. We find out in this reading that Abigail had relations with John Proctor and now wants to kill his wife to have him to herself. Abigail and Mercy seem like the two witches we know of for sure, at this point. They both were in league with each other, and Mary Warren as well, even though she only saw their practices but did not partake in them. Thus we have the stereotypical triad of witches (a la Macbeth and Hocus Pocus?).
2) "I [Rebecca] think she'll wake when she tires of it. A child's spirit is like a child, you can never catch it by running after it; you must stand still, and, for love, it will soon itself come back" (26).
Rebecca Nurse is the only sane person in this entire society! Most likely we can attribute this to her age, but still. Everyone else screams, "Witchcraft!" at any sign of difference. Rebecca is the only person to look at a situation rationally. To every outrageous claim, she gives a logical answer that nobody else could think of. Here, she's chalking up Ruth's behavior to any child's playful mischief. When questioned as to why Ruth has not eaten yet, she responds, "Perhaps she is not hungered yet" (27). It's obvious, but in this type of setting, not something you would expect. I really like Rebecca.
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