The Idea of Existentialism in The Stranger :: Literary Analysis, Albert Camus

Existentialism is defined as "a philosophical theory or approach that emphasizes the existence of the individual person as a free and responsible agent determining his or her own development through acts of the will†. In other words, existentialism it emphasizes individual freedom. Throughout The Stranger, the amount of existentialism views is abundant. The use of Mersault’s experiences covey the idea that human life has no meaning except for simple existence. The idea of existentialism in Albert Camus' The Stranger reflects through Mersault's life experiences with his relationship with Marie, the death of his mother Maman, the murdering of the Arab, and Mersault's trial and execution, all these events show that Mersault’s life of no meaning. The death of Maman in The Stranger conveys an example of existentialism. The phlegmatic and unattached response to the death of his mother shows an excellent example of Mersault’s existentialism; he accepts life or death without looking for a deeper significance. Mersault receives a telegram from the home notifying him of his mother’s death, â€Å"Maman died today. Or yesterday maybe, I don't know. I got a telegram from the home: ‘Mother Deceased. Funeral Tomorrow. Faithfully yours.’†(Camus 3). When he gets to the home he does not even want to see the body, instead of mourning he sits back and relaxes drinking coffee and smoking. Mersault seems more concerned about taking time off of work to go to his mother’s funeral that he has nothing to do with, than the actual death of his mother. The first thought of his day is about work, â€Å"As I was waking up, it came to me why my boss had seemed annoyed when I asked him for two days off†¦Ã¢â‚ ¬ (Camus 19). Mersault does not show any emotion at all while at the nursing home that Maman lived. He is just there because he feels as if he has to be. Everything about the weekend seems to annoy him events like the vigil, the funeral, and some Maman’s friends, in particular to the sobbing woman at the vigil. Another aspect of the existentialism portrayed in The Stranger is that Mersault focuses mainly on physical sensations with his relationship with Marie. Mersault believes that life has no meaning other than existence itself; so what is the purpose to love? He does nothing more than think of Marie’s physical features like her hair, smile, skin, and laughter. Mersault runs into Marie on his way to the beach for a swim and soon after he already describes her physical attributes, â€Å" I helped her onto a float as I did, I brushed against her breasts†(Camus 19).

Term Paper on Poverty

Term Paper on Poverty Prejudice, affluence, and poverty in America are linked issues. Works by four authors discussed in this essay, Takaki, Fallows, Olds, and Gioia, help us to understand how the social issues of class and race are intertwined, making an analysis of both necessary for an adequate understanding of any one individually. While the authors discussed here approach the issues from different angles, their works taken side by side clearly show us how prejudice helps the affluent shrug off responsibility toward the poor, offering ‘explanations’ as to why some groups (or persons) remain in poverty and others do not. Additionally, it is argued that those living in affluence – and thus those with the means to significantly address the poverty issue – may, in fact, have a reduced awareness of the existence and reality of poverty. As a result, not only is poverty per se not addressed (we don’t address what we don’t see), but the existing myths and prejudices that help to maintain class divisions, both in society at large and embedded in our legal and social structures, remain unchallenged. However, it is only by examining both the objective nature of the current era together with prejudice and the self-justification of the affluent that one can understand how prejudice, affluence, and poverty are intertwined. The nature of money, according to Gioia’s poem titled simply â€Å"Money†, shapes the reality of life for both the rich and the poor, according to how much they have or don’t have. Gioia’s poem reminds us of the many meanings we accord to money, how we need it and spend it, and how it functions in our economy. One of the clear messages in Gioia’s poem is that money, itself, does not discriminate. It is what it is regardless of who has it, but for those who have it, it grows and multiplies. For those who don’t have it, or don’t have enough of it, it does not. If money itself does not discriminate, how do we account for the gap between those who are affluent and those who are poor? What prevents some from getting it, while others have enough for it to grow? How we answer this question, and the logic behind our answer, is very connected to policy decisions we make concerning poverty, and how effective we are in addressing it. One of our traditional explanations for the why the poor are poor and the rich are rich, according to the American ideology, is that the poor are those who have not worked sufficiently to gain money. Likewise, those who have money, according to the same ideology, are those who have been frugal, worked hard, saved, wisely invested, and who have otherwise ‘lived right’. Takaki, in his article â€Å"Race at the End of History†, provides a summary of how this is embedded in our ideology: â€Å" The American dream still holds promise to all us as Americans. Everyone, regardless of race, can make it into the mainstream through hard work and private effort. † (p. 387). This kind of definition, and the ideology behind it, makes it possible to approach policy issues in such a way that places overwhelming responsibility on those who are poor for their own plight. As Takaki points out, our emphasis is on the fact that success is to be achieved through ‘private’ means, rather than government assistance (p. 387). Addressing poverty then becomes a question of getting those who are not working hard enough, not ‘living right’, to do so. This definition of poverty allows us to say, those who have a lion’s share of wealth deserve that wealth, and those who are in poverty, deserve that poverty. Viewed this way, there is no reason, then, to seriously listen to claims of ‘glass ceilings’ or discrimination, or to look in any other way at prejudices built into our social and legal structures that unfairly increase the odds for some, and reduce them for others. How is it that, in the face of evident continued poverty among certain ethnic or racial groups, we continue to believe in this ideology? Surely, by now enough evidence of systematic discrimination, glass ceilings, and other obstacles for specific racial and ethnic (and gender) groups has shown us that the American dream as summed up by Takaki is based at least partially on a myth. Yet many people still agree with, for example, what Takaki suggests (p. 385) Francis Fukuyama’s explanation is: that poverty is a matter of cultural difference. Parillo, in â€Å"Causes of Prejudice†, and Fallows in â€Å"The Invisible Poor† each help us to understand forces at work that help to perpetuate the myth even in the face of a contradictory reality. Parillo points to prejudice and the continuation of prejudice through the socialization process. Defining prejudice as â€Å"an attitudinal ‘system of negative beliefs, feelings, and action-orientations regarding a certain group or groups of people’† (p. 548), Parillo argues that, through the socialization process, prejudicial views consciously or unconsciously adopted during childhood can then continue into adulthood, and translate into prejudicial choices and behavior in work, social life, and life choices. Additionally, widespread and generally shared prejudicial beliefs and attitudes toward specific groups can be implicitly (or explicitly) reinforced by society at large through, for example, the legal system and cultural norms (p. 557). New generations may not be alert to these subtle reinforcers of prejudicial attitudes and practices, and therefore may not question them. The prevailing stereotypes and prejudices are thus maintained and continued as they are adopted by new generations, and as they continue to be sanctified by the surrounding legal and societal framework. If children acquire their beliefs from their parents through socialization, what prevents them from questioning those values? Surely, we are not all sheep, that unthinkingly accept everything we hear. One explanation that Parillo offers (pp. 550-551) is ‘Self-Justification’, that we need â€Å"reassurance that the things we do and the lives we live are proper, that good reasons for our actions exist. † One way in which this surfaces, he argues, is through a dominant group convincing itself that it is superior to other groups, causing them to associate less frequently or not at all with those groups it deems inferior. Fallows article â€Å"The Invisible Poor† clearly shows how this phenomenon is a reality of our current era of ‘tech wealth’, describing the invisible social barrier between rich and poor people – a barrier so great as to make the poor ‘invisible’ to the rich. Within the tech wealth era, according to Fallows, the production of wealth involves fewer ‘blue collar workers’, so that those directly benefiting from it are not confronted with the realities, struggles, and needs of those less like them. In terms of economic background, there is more similarity between the ‘workers’ producing and benefiting from the new wealth. Second, the nature of work within the tech industry isolates those within it into an insulated world. Long working hours, a minimal amount of leisure time, and social lives primarily focused around those within the same world further contributes to the lack of awareness and connectedness to the rest of the world around them. Third, he points to the ‘racial meritocracy’ of the tech industry, with workers and contributors coming from all corners of the globe. He argues that this racial mix among the tech wealthy leaves them out of touch with the more basic and traditional racial tensions among the less wealthy, and the ways in which those in minority groups not associated with the tech wealthy are still disadvantaged. While Fallows offers a great deal of support for these specific phenomena of the tech wealth era as objective phenomena, which may indeed be at work, combining an analysis of these phenomena with Parrillo’s analysis of prejudice and self-justification offers a fuller understanding of our current era. Sharon Olds, in her poem â€Å"From Seven Floors Up† shows, for example, how even if there are objective forces at work such as those discussed by Fallows, there is still an attitudinal factor at work: when those more affluent are confronted with the reality of poverty, they are looking from seven floors up, through prejudice and self-justification, will more likely (however unwittingly)do not believe it could be a reality of their lives. In sum, given that money itself does not discriminate, and given the overwhelming evidence that there are obstacles to wealth other than the personal failure to achieve the ‘American Dream’, we must look for a fuller explanation of the gap between the rich and the poor. The relationship between affluence and poverty consists not only of objective forces such as new forms of wealth production or characteristics of new economic eras, but more concretely of prejudice. The very real obstacles to wealth encountered by specific societal groups, and embedded in our social and legal structures ,are not only due to the transference of values from one generation to the next, but due to the continued need for self-justification among the affluent. The product of self-justification, prejudice, is the link between affluence and poverty that needs to be analyzed and addressed if social policies concerning poverty are to be effective.

Introduction. The Issue Of Labor Complications Based On

Introduction The issue of labor complications based on gender is one of the most important topics in the last few years in relation to the increasing incorporation of women in the workforce. This work’s main objective is to collect a robust number of informative sources that will allow to raise awareness about the implications of labor difficulties for women. It is imperative to emphasize that all people should be treated equally. This principle has encouraged the making of this project and exploring more about this relevant topic today. Types of Labor Difficulties Wage discrimination: Per this type of discrimination, wage inequality is not always attributed to the existence of different levels of productivity. It implies that women†¦show more content†¦Consequences of Discrimination Towards Women Discriminated people can adopt some attitudes. Some adopt a resigned attitude unconsciously to avoid conflict. They sense that there is no possible negotiation with the discriminator and rather commit themselves to addressing the threat instead of getting fired. Women who feel discriminated tend to be afraid of complaining or do not even know how to do it. They feel confused without knowing how to act in their work environment and their personalities can be harmed as well as their labor performance. Even when they feel an unfair treatment towards them, their confusion is so significant that they do not have the possibility of reacting. Confusion may develop stress as well. Due to the tension caused in a discriminatory work environment, women may fear rejection. Discriminated people tend to become friendlier to please the discriminator, this can deteriorate them psychologically and professionally, because they want to avoid conflict. They stop making objections in team works. Whatever others suggest is right, that way the discriminated can hide her personality and her own skills. Once the discriminated person realizes the manipulation coming from the discriminator, she may feel upset. After that point, she may feel the need to get back, which may generate a hostile environment that will affect unfavorably her work performance. Discrimination may also cause division within the work environment. If aShow MoreRelatedNatural And Birth Pregnancy : A Discussion Of The Risks Of Cesarean Deliveries And The Transition From Medicalized Birth1526 Words   |  7 PagesNatural and Medicalized Birth: A Discussion of the Risks of Cesarean Deliveries and the Transition from Medicalized Birth to Natural Delivery Introduction Medical and technological advances in maternal and neonatal care have significantly reduced maternal and infant mortality and medical interventions have become commonplace and arguably routine. Used appropriately, they can be lifesaving procedures. 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Annotated Bibliography Online Privacy - 588 Words

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Creative Writing Personal Narrative - 1348 Words

â€Å"Click,† went the door handle, as Tristan picked the lock on the door. â€Å"And we’re in,† he exclaimed. â€Å"Good job soldiers. One step closer to victory,† said Director Schwartz over the earpieces given before they set off. With Tristan and Evan taking out the dictator, the Spanish Government could reclaim the rest of lost, deserted government buildings, and restore the country back to normal. â€Å"Let’s go, Evan. You have the map, right?† Tristan asked. After Evan pulled out his phone they examined the digital map, the both of them studied it for a bit. â€Å"So, we have just entered through here,† Tristan pointed, â€Å"And we have to flank towards the eastern side, without being caught. Seems easy enough for a couple of fifteen-year-olds,† as he†¦show more content†¦Ã¢â‚¬Å"First,† he exclaimed, â€Å"Locate and destroy the tool that is tracking you. Typically it may be a security camera or a microchip. Secondly, scout the area. 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The Return Nightfall Chapter 22 Free Essays

Bonnie was disturbed and confused. It was dark. â€Å"All right,† a voice that was brusque and calming at once was saying. We will write a custom essay sample on The Return: Nightfall Chapter 22 or any similar topic only for you Order Now â€Å"That’s two possible concussions, one puncture wound in need of a tetanus shot – and – well, I’m afraid I’ve got to sedate your girl, Jim. And I’m going to need help, but you’re not allowed to move at all. You just lie back and keep your eyes shut.† Bonnie opened her own eyes. She had a vague memory of falling forward onto her bed. But she wasn’t at home; she was still at the Saitou house, lying on a couch. As always, when in confusion or fear, she looked for Meredith. Meredith was just returning from the kitchen with a makeshift ice pack. She put it on Bonnie’s already wet forehead. â€Å"I just fainted,† Bonnie explained, as she herself figured it out. â€Å"That’s all.† â€Å"I know you fainted. You cracked your head pretty hard on the floor,† Meredith replied, and for once her face was perfectly readable: worry and sympathy and relief were all visible. She actually had tears pooling in her eyes. â€Å"Oh, Bonnie, I couldn’t get to you in time. Isobel was in the way, and those tatami mats don’t cushion the floor much – and you’ve been out for almost half an hour! Youscared me.† â€Å"I’m sorry.† Bonnie fumbled a hand out a blanket she seemed to be wrapped in and gave Meredith’s hand a squeeze. It meantvelociraptor sisterhood is still in action . It also meantthank you for caring . Jim was sprawled on another couch holding an ice pack to the back of his head. His face was greenish-white. He tried to stand up but Dr. Alpert – it was her voice that was both crusty and kind – pushed him back onto the couch. â€Å"You don’t need any more exertion,† she said. â€Å"But I do need an assistant. Meredith, can you help me with Isobel? It sounds as if she’s going to be quite a handful.† â€Å"She hit me in the back of the head with a lamp,† Jim warned them. â€Å"Don’t ever turn your back on her.† â€Å"We’ll be careful,† Dr. Alpert said. â€Å"You two stayhere ,† Meredith added firmly. Bonnie was watching Meredith’s eyes. She wanted to get up to help them with Isobel. But Meredith had that special look of determination that meant it was better not to argue. As soon as they left, Bonnie tried to stand up. But immediately she began to see the pulsating gray nothingness that meant she was going to pass out again. She lay back down, teeth gritted. For a long time there were crashes and shouts from Isobel’s room. Bonnie would hear Dr. Alpert’s voice raised, and then Isobel’s, and then a third voice – not Meredith, who never shouted if she could help it, but what sounded like Isobel’s voice, only slowed down and distorted. Then, finally, there was silence, and Meredith and Dr. Alpert came back carrying a limp Isobel between them. Meredith had a bloody nose and Dr. Alpert’s short pepper-and-salt hair was standing on end, but they had somehow gotten a T-shirt onto Isobel’s abused body and Dr. Alpert had managed to hang on to her black bag as well. â€Å"Walking wounded, stay where you are. We’ll be back to lend you a hand,† the doctor said in her terse way. Next Dr. Albert and Meredith made another trip to take Isobel’s grandmother with them. â€Å"I don’t like her color,† Dr. Albert said briefly. â€Å"Or the tick of her tocker. We might as well all go get checked up.† A minute later they returned to help Jim and Bonnie to Dr. Albert’s SUV. The sky had clouded over, and the sun was a red ball not far from the horizon. â€Å"Do you want me to give you something for the pain?† the doctor asked, seeing Bonnie eyeing the black bag. Isobel was in the very back of the SUV, where the seats had been folded down. Meredith and Jim were in the two seats in front of her, with Grandma Saitou between them, and Bonnie – at Meredith’s insistence – was in the front with the doctor. â€Å"Um, no, it’s okay,† Bonnie said. Actually, she had been wondering whether the hospital actually could cure Isobel of infection any better than Mrs. Flowers’ herbal compresses could. But although her head throbbed and ached and she was developing a lump the size of a hard-boiled egg on her forehead, she didn’t want to cloud her thinking. There was something nagging at her, some dream or something she’d had while Meredith said she’d been unconscious. Whatwas it? â€Å"All right then. Seat belts on? Here we go.† The SUV pulled away from the Saitou house. â€Å"Jim, you said Isobel has a three-year-old sister asleep upstairs, so I called my granddaughter Jayneela to come over here. At least it will be somebody in the house.† Bonnie twisted around to look at Meredith. They both spoke at once. â€Å"Oh, no! She can’t go in!Especially not into Isobel’s room! Look, please, you have to – † Bonnie babbled. â€Å"I’m really not sure if that’s a good idea, Dr. Alpert,† Meredith said, no less urgently but much more coherently. â€Å"Unless she does stay away from that room and maybe has someone with her – a boy would be good.† â€Å"A boy?† Dr. Alpert seemed bewildered, but the combination of Bonnie’s distress and Meredith’s sincerity seemed to convince her. â€Å"Well, Tyrone, my grandson, was watching TV when I left. I’ll try to get him.† â€Å"Wow!† Bonnie said involuntarily. â€Å"That’s the Tyrone who’s offensive tackle on the football team next year, huh? I heard that they call him the Tyre-minator.† â€Å"Well, let’s say I think he’ll be able to protect Jayneela,† Dr. Alpert said after making the call. â€Å"But we’re the ones with the, ah,overexcited girl in the vehicle with us. From the way she fought the sedative, I’d say she’s quite a ;;terminator’ herself.† Meredith’s mobile phone beeped out the tune it used for numbers not in its memory, and then announced, â€Å"Mrs. T. Flowers is calling you. Will you take the – † In a moment Meredith had hit thetalk button. â€Å"Mrs. Flowers?† she said. The hum of the SUV kept anything Mrs. Flowers might be saying from Bonnie and the others, so Bonnie went back to concentrating on two things: what she knew about the â€Å"victims† of the Salem â€Å"witches,† and what that elusive thought while she was unconscious had been. All of which promptly flew away when Meredith put down her mobile phone. â€Å"What was it? What?What? † Bonnie couldn’t get a clear view of Meredith’s face in the dusk, but it looked pale, and when she spoke shesounded pale, too. â€Å"Mrs. Flowers was doing some gardening and she was about to go inside when she noticed that there was something in her begonia bushes. She said it looked as if someone had tried to stuff something down between the bush and a wall, but a bit of fabric stuck up.† Bonnie felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her.†What was it?† â€Å"It was a duffel bag, full of shoes and clothes. Boots. Shirts. Pants. All Stefan’s.† Bonnie gave a shriek that caused Dr. Alpert to swerve and then recover, the SUV fishtailing. â€Å"Oh, my God; oh, my God – he didn’t go!† â€Å"Oh, I think he went all right. Just not of his own free will,† Meredith said grimly. â€Å"Damon,† Bonnie gasped, and slumped back into her own seat, tears welling up in her eyes and overflowing. â€Å"I couldn’t help wanting to believe†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Head getting worse?† Dr. Alpert asked, tactfully ignoring the conversation that had not included her. â€Å"No – well, yes, it is,† Bonnie admitted. â€Å"Here, open the bag and give me a look inside. I’ve got samples of this and that†¦all right, here you go. Anybody see a water bottle back there?† Jim listlessly handed one over. â€Å"Thanks,† Bonnie said, taking the small pill and a deep gulp. She had to get her head right. If Damon had kidnapped Stefan, then she should be Calling for him, shouldn’t she? God only knew where he would end up this time. Why hadn’t any of them even thought of it as a possibility? Well, first, because the new Stefan was supposed to be so strong, and second, because of the note in Elena’s diary. â€Å"That’s it!† she said, startling even herself. It had all come flooding back, everything that she and Matt had shared†¦. â€Å"Meredith!† she said, oblivious to the side look which Dr. Alpert gave her, â€Å"while I was unconscious I talked withMatt . He was unconscious, too – â€Å" â€Å"Was he hurt?† â€Å"God, yes. Damon must have been doing something awful. But he said to ignore it, that something had been bothering him about the note Stefan left for Elena ever since he saw it. Something about Stefan talking to the English teacher about how to spelljudgment last year. And he just kept saying,Look for the backup file. Look for the backup†¦before Damon does .† She stared at Meredith’s dim face, aware as they cruised slowly to stop at an intersection that Dr. Alpert and Jim were both staring at her. Tact had its limits. Meredith’s voice broke the silence. â€Å"Doctor,† she said, â€Å"I’m going to have to ask you something. If you take a left here and another one at Laurel Street and then just drive for about five minutes to Old Wood, it won’t be too far out of your way. But it’ll let me get to the boardinghouse where the computer Bonnie’s talking about is. You may think I’m crazy, but Ineed to get to that computer.† â€Å"I know you’re not crazy; I’d have noticed it by now.† The doctor laughed mirthlessly. â€Å"And I have heard some things about young Bonnie here†¦nothing bad, I promise, but a little difficult to believe. After seeing what I saw today, I think I’m beginning to change my opinion about them.† The doctor abruptly took a left turn, muttering, â€Å"Somebody’s taken the stop sign from this road, too.† Then she continued, to Meredith, â€Å"I can do what you ask. I’d drive you all the way to the old boardinghouse – â€Å" â€Å"No! That would be much too dangerous!† † – but I’ve got to get Isobel to a hospital as soon as possible. Not to mention Jim. I think he really does have a concussion. And Bonnie – † â€Å"Bonnie,† Bonnie said, enunciating distinctly, â€Å"is going to the boardinghouse, too.† â€Å"No, Bonnie! I’m going torun , Bonnie, do you understand that? I’m going torun as fast as I can – and I can’t let you hold me up.† Meredith’s voice was grim. â€Å"I won’t hold you up, I swear it. You go ahead and run. I’ll run, too. My head feels fine, now. If you have to leave me behind, youkeep on running. I’ll be coming after you.† Meredith opened her mouth and then closed it again. There must have been something in Bonnie’s face that told her any kind of argument would be useless, Bonnie thought. Because that was the truth of the matter. â€Å"Here we are,† Dr. Alpert said a few minutes later. â€Å"Corner of Laurel and Old Wood.† She pulled a small flashlight out of her black bag and shone it in each of Bonnie’s eyes, one after another. â€Å"Well, it still doesn’t look as if you have concussion. But you know, Bonnie, that my medical opinion is that you shouldn’t be running anywhere. I just can’t force you to accept to take treatment if you don’t want it. But I can make you take this.† She handed Bonnie the small flashlight. â€Å"Good luck.† â€Å"Thank you for everything,† Bonnie said, for an instant laying her pale hand on Dr. Alpert’s long-fingered, dark brown one. â€Å"You be careful, too – of fallen trees and of Isobel, and of something red in the road.† â€Å"Bonnie, I’m leaving.† Meredith was already outside the SUV. â€Å"And lock your doors! And don’t get out until you’re away from the woods!† Bonnie said, as she tumbled down from the vehicle beside Meredith. And then they ran. Of course, all that Bonnie had said about Meredith running in front of her, leaving her behind, was nonsense, and they both knew it. Meredith seized Bonnie’s hand as soon as Bonnie’s feet had touched the road and began running like a greyhound, dragging Bonnie along with her, at times seeming to whirl her over dips in the road. Bonnie didn’t need to be told how important speed was. She wished desperately that they had a car. She wished a lot of things, primarily that Mrs. Flowers lived in the middle of town and not way out here on the wild side. At last, as Meredith had foreseen, she was winded, and her hand so slick with sweat that it slipped out of Meredith’s hand. She bent almost double, hands on her knees, trying to get her breath. â€Å"Bonnie! Wipe your hand! We have to run!† â€Å"Just – give me – a minute – â€Å" â€Å"We don’t have a minute! Can’t youhear it?Come on! â€Å" â€Å"I justneed – to get – my breath.† â€Å"Bonnie, look behind you. And don’t scream!† Bonnie looked behind her, screamed, and then discovered that she wasn’t winded after all. She took off, grabbing Meredith’s hand. She could hear it, now, even above her own wheezing breath and the pounding in her ears. It was an insect sound, not a buzzing but still a sound that her brain filed underbug . It sounded like the whipwhipwhip of a helicopter, only much higher in pitch, as if a helicopter could have insect-like tentacles instead of blades. With that one glance, she had made out an entire gray mass of those tentacles, with heads in front – and all the heads were open to show mouths full of white sharp teeth. She struggled to turn on the flashlight. Night was falling, and she had no idea how long it would be until moonrise. All she knew was that the trees seemed to make everything darker, and thatthey were after her and Meredith. The malach. The whipping sound of tentacles beating the air was much louder now. Much closer. Bonnie didn’t want to turn around and see the source of it. The sound was pushing her body beyond all sane limits. She couldn’t help hearing over and over Matt’s words:like putting my hand in a garbage disposal and turning it on. Like putting my hand in a garbage disposal†¦ Her hand and Meredith’s were covered with sweat again. And the gray mass was definitely overtaking them. It was only half as far away as it had been at first, and the whipping noise was getting higher-pitched. At the same time her legs felt like rubber. Literally. She couldn’t feel her knees. And now they felt like rubber dissolving into gelatin. Vipvipvipvipveeee†¦ It was the sound of one of them, closer than the rest. Closer, closer, and then it was in front of them, its mouth open in an oval shape with teeth all around the perimeter. Just like Matt had said. Bonnie had no breath to scream with. But she needed to scream. The headless thing with no eyes or features – just that horrible mouth – had turned ahead of them and was coming right for her. And her automatic response – to beat at it with her hands – could cost her an arm. Oh God, it was coming for her face†¦. â€Å"There’s the boardinghouse,† gasped Meredith, giving her a jerk that lifted her off her feet.†Run!† Bonnie ducked, just as the malach tried to collide with her. Instantly, she felt tentacleswhipwhipwhip into her curly hair. She was abruptly yanked backward to a painful stumble and Meredith’s hand was torn out of hers. Her legs wanted to collapse. Her guts wanted her to scream. â€Å"Oh, God, Meredith, it’s got me! Run!Don’t let one get you!† In front of her, the boardinghouse was lit up like a hotel. Usually it was dark except for maybe Stefan’s window and one other. But now it shone like a jewel, just beyond her reach. â€Å"Bonnie, shut your eyes!† Meredith hadn’t left her. She was still here. Bonnie could feel vine-like tentacles gently brushing her ear, lightly tasting her sweaty forehead, working toward her face, her throat†¦She sobbed. And then there was a sharp, loud crack mixed with a sound like a ripe melon bursting, and something damp scattered all over her back. She opened her eyes. Meredith was dropping a thick branch she had been holding like a baseball bat. The tentacles were already sliding out of Bonnie’s hair. Bonnie didn’t want to look at the mess behind her. â€Å"Meredith, you – â€Å" â€Å"Come on – run!† And she was running again. All the way up the gravel boardinghouse driveway, all the way up the path to the door. And there, in the doorway, Mrs. Flowers was standing with an old-fashioned kerosene lamp. â€Å"Get in, get in,† she said, and as Meredith and Bonnie skittered to a stop, sobbing for air, she slammed the door shut behind them. They all heard the sound that came next. It was like the sound the branch had made – a sharp crack plus a bursting, only much louder, and repeated many times over, like popcorn popping. Bonnie was shaking as she took her hands away from her ears and slid down to sit on the entry-hall rug. â€Å"What in heaven’s name have you girls been doing to yourselves?† Mrs. Flowers said, eyeing Bonnie’s forehead, Meredith’s swollen nose, and their general state of sweaty exhaustion. â€Å"It takes too – long to explain,† Meredith got out. â€Å"Bonnie! You can sit down – upstairs.† Somehow or other Bonnie made it upstairs. Meredith went at once to the computer and turned it on, collapsing on the desk chair in front of it. Bonnie used the last of her energy to pull off her top. The back was stained with nameless insect juices. She crumpled it into a ball and threw it into a corner. Then she fell down on Stefan’s bed. â€Å"What exactly did Matt say?† Meredith was getting her breath back. â€Å"He saidLook in the backup – orLook for the backup file or something. Meredith, my head†¦it isn’t good.† â€Å"Okay. Just relax. You did great out there.† â€Å"I made it because you saved me. Thanks†¦again†¦.† â€Å"Don’t worry about it. But I don’t understand,† Meredith added in her talking-to-herself murmur. â€Å"There’s a backup file of this note in the same directory, but it’s no different. I don’t see what Matt meant.† â€Å"Maybe he was confused,† Bonnie said reluctantly. â€Å"Maybe he was just in a lot of pain and sort of off his head.† â€Å"Backup file, backup file†¦wait a minute! Doesn’t Word automatically save a backup in some weird place, like under the administrator directory or somewhere?† Meredith was clicking rapidly through directories. Then she said, in a disappointed voice, â€Å"No, nothing there.† She sat back, letting her breath out sharply. Bonnie knew what she must be thinking. Their long and desperate run through danger couldn’t all be for nothing. Itcouldn’t . Then, slowly, Meredith said, â€Å"There are a lot of temp files in here for one little note.† â€Å"What’s a temp file?† â€Å"It’s just a temporary storage of your file while you’re working on it. Usually it just looks like gibberish, though.† The clicking started again. â€Å"But I must as well be thorough – oh!† She interrupted herself. The clicking stopped. And then there was dead silence. â€Å"What is it?† Bonnie said anxiously. More silence. â€Å"Meredith! Talk to me!Did you find a backup file? â€Å" Meredith said nothing. She seemed not even to hear. She was reading with what looked like horrified fascination. How to cite The Return: Nightfall Chapter 22, Essay examples

Soldiers Home - Hemingway free essay sample

Literary Analysis of Conflicts within â€Å"Soldier’s Home† Ernest Hemingway’s â€Å"Soldier’s Home† is a short story about one man’s struggle with returning home after war. Harold Krebs had just returned home, later than the majority of the soldiers, resulting in a dull welcoming from his town. In order to be heard, Krebs lies about his war experience through elaborated stories. Even though Krebs is home, he is lost- lost in society, lost with love, lost within himself. Although Hemingway does not describe much about what Krebs experienced during the war, it is obvious that this man went through a transformation, and returned with what an outsider looking in would call extreme apathy. Harold Krebs, along with millions of other men and women, experienced war, an undertaking many can and will never know. Because of his service, he will never be able to truly return home, return to fulfilling society’s wants, return to the old Harold Krebs. We will write a custom essay sample on Soldiers Home Hemingway or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page Those who have never experienced what Krebs has, such as his own mother, will never understand what it was like, and will continue to force him to satisfy their standards of what is normal. Krebs’ sense of compassion and emotion was scarred in the war. He did not however, completely lose a sense of love. He loves pool. His sister said that if he loved her, he would go watch her game. He went. Krebs will never go back to his old self, but he will do his best to follow the expected cycle of life for a Kansas boy, in order to satisfy his parents’ wants. Krebs, unlike many soldiers, did not die in the war, but maybe that is the outcome for every soldier. For all soldiers alike, the war wins, not the people. Although some come home, their old selves die during the war. Krebs was a victim of the war. He died, and a soldier returned home. Hemingway speaks of this corporal as â€Å"Krebs† in the beginning of the story, just how he would have been addressed as a Marine. Later in the story we are introduced to a new character, Harold, Harold Krebs, Hare. Harold’s mother and sister, throughout their conversations with him, depict how this soldier was once a brother, a son, a friend. Harold attended a private college before the war. He was involved in a fraternity. He met society’s needs. This man left his home a man, but returned a soldier, who was now faced to fight a war within himself. Krebs returned lost and confused in the society he grew up in. He tried his best to find patterns and relearn the ways of the people he had once left behind. Detaching himself from society eased his attempt at a transition. The story shares that he went through a dynamic change during the war, but his character remains static. The beginning of the story, Harold had already transformed into Krebs. In the end, Hemingway leaves him still to be Krebs, lost in society, but trying his best to put on a show in order to fulfill the social constructions of a male his age. The experience of war transforms a person forever. So much that one is completely unable to fit back into the mold he or she once fit in. Hemingway depicts through this story how society demands that everyone live by and meet all of its social norms, and those who do not abide will be forced to fight their personal struggles alone and must keep them hidden from the rest of the world. Reintegration is impossible when you no longer fit the mold. This town he returned to lives off of conformity. The people all dress the same. His father drives the same car. Nothing has changed except for Krebs, and it seems that society is not accepting of this change. Krebs is forced to decide whether he should give into what they want or fight it and attempt to find who he once was in the war. Conformity is no sin. Good people live in the whirl wind of conformity, just like Harold’s mother. She is a God-fearing woman, but she is unable to accept the lethargy of a man who used to be her son. Krebs dislikes problems, complexity, or the issues that come along with life. He would rather observe the world, not participate it in, but the world will not let him sit out. He ties to feed into their wants by lying about the truth he once tried to share, but it was not good enough for them. His lies destroy him on the inside. Krebs opens up and attempts to let his mother know that he does not love anymore, but due to her innocent ignorance on his situation, she is unable to comprehend his state of being. Krebs seems to reach an end, but because of this incident, he is unable to. Krebs sense of being lost truly shows how society forced him to be a new kind of soldier, not for a country, but for his own individuality.