"Arya, what about you? We've only sparred together that one time in Farthen Dur." His grin widened, and he flourished Brisingr. "I've gotten a bit better since then."
"So you have."
"What say you, then?"
She cast a critical glance toward the Varden, then shrugged. "Why not?"
As they walked to the level patch of grass, he said, "You won't be able to best me quite so easily as before."
"I am sure you are right."
...Arya held her ground and made no attempt to evade him. When he was less than four yards away, she smiled at him, a warm, brilliant smile that so enhanced her beauty, Eragon faltered, his thoughts dissolving into a muddle...
Before he could do much more than slow his forward momentum, another impact dashed his sword arm to the side; then a knot of pain formed in his midsection as Arya stabbed him, knocking him to the ground. (from chapter 12, pages 93-94)
This is such a great passage from Christopher Paolini's "Inheritance", the final book in the Eragon series. I love these books, and was super excited when I got the chance to read the final volume. Paolini's writing style, though it is definitely superior, seems similar to mine, and I simply enjoy it. This specific passage made me laugh, as I often do when I read literature like his and Rick Riordan's. As he consistently does, Eragon makes a fool of himself. Although told never to underestimate an elf, regardless of their gender, he makes the fatal mistake time and time again. I laugh at his ignorance, arrogance, and humiliation, though I reckon I do the same thing. Maybe that's why I laugh, because I see myself in him... I think that is the point of most writers though: to develop characters that readers can understand and relate with.
PS: the green highlighted clauses are adverbial.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
Angel Levine
Tears blinded the tailor's eyes. Was ever a man so tried? Should he say he believed a half-drunken Negro to be an angel?
The silence turned to stone.
Manischewitz was recalling scenes of his youth, as a wheel in his mind whirred: believe, do not, yes, no, yes, no. The pointer pointed to yes, to between yes and no, to no, not it was yes. He sighed. One had still to make a choice.
"I believe you are also an angel -- from God." He said it simply but in a broken voice. Yet he thoughtm, if you said it it was said If you believed it you must say it. If you believed, you believed.
The hush broke. Everybody talked but the music commenced and they went on dancing. Bella, grown bored, picked up the cards and dealt herself a hand.
Levine burst into tears. "How you have humiliated me."
This passage, from Bernard Malamud's Angel Levine, is the climax of the story. Manischewitz, who had been driven to the point of desperation, finally accepted Alex Levine as a messenger from God. What I think is so intriguing about this scene is how the cabaret changes. They are all staring at the poor old tailor, when he admits the truth, and suddenly nobody knows either of them are there, or ever were present. It is as if Levine as erased the people's memories and made him and Manischewitz invisible. I see the whole thing as a test, which everyone in life is faced with. And the thing about tests is: they always get darker and more macabre before they get better. However, the pay off at the end is worth it, as Manischewitz discovered. Now, whether I would have claimed a drunk Negro was an angel is not important, but many people will do crazy things when they are in desperate need of succor. However, I like the story and believe Malamud structured it masterfully.
PS: the green highlights are the adjectival clauses required. The first is close the beginning of the sentence. The second is at the end.
The silence turned to stone.
Manischewitz was recalling scenes of his youth, as a wheel in his mind whirred: believe, do not, yes, no, yes, no. The pointer pointed to yes, to between yes and no, to no, not it was yes. He sighed. One had still to make a choice.
"I believe you are also an angel -- from God." He said it simply but in a broken voice. Yet he thoughtm, if you said it it was said If you believed it you must say it. If you believed, you believed.
The hush broke. Everybody talked but the music commenced and they went on dancing. Bella, grown bored, picked up the cards and dealt herself a hand.
Levine burst into tears. "How you have humiliated me."
This passage, from Bernard Malamud's Angel Levine, is the climax of the story. Manischewitz, who had been driven to the point of desperation, finally accepted Alex Levine as a messenger from God. What I think is so intriguing about this scene is how the cabaret changes. They are all staring at the poor old tailor, when he admits the truth, and suddenly nobody knows either of them are there, or ever were present. It is as if Levine as erased the people's memories and made him and Manischewitz invisible. I see the whole thing as a test, which everyone in life is faced with. And the thing about tests is: they always get darker and more macabre before they get better. However, the pay off at the end is worth it, as Manischewitz discovered. Now, whether I would have claimed a drunk Negro was an angel is not important, but many people will do crazy things when they are in desperate need of succor. However, I like the story and believe Malamud structured it masterfully.
PS: the green highlights are the adjectival clauses required. The first is close the beginning of the sentence. The second is at the end.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Homer
"Zeus has torn away my joy.
But there's something else that mortifies me now.
Your way is a far cry from the time-honored way
of suitors locked in rivalry, striving to win
some noble woman, a wealthy man's daughter.
They bring in their own calves and lambs
to feast the friends of the bride-to-be, yes,
and shower her with gleaming gifts as well.
They don't devour the woman's goods scot-free."
Staunch Odysseus glowed with joy to hear all this --
his wife's trickery luring gifts from her suitors now,
enchanting their hearts with suave seductive words
but all the while with something else in mind.
(Homer's 'Odyssey', Book 18, lines 307-318.)
I chose this passage, for it reveals a new side of Penelope's character. Until now she has been pretty passive and lax. She doesn't really seem to be caring about what is going on. She is annoyed with the suitors, and weeps for her husband, but doesn't really do anything. However, in this passage, she decides to trick her cadging suitors, who have been carousing and causing quite a pandemonium. She tells them to start courting her like real men and give her rich gifts, so she will be more inclined to pick a new husband. However, she has no intention of marrying any of them, any time soon. She, like Odysseus, is able to deceive her enemies easily with fanciful fables. Odysseus, disguised as a beggar, hears her and is impressed. He realizes she is much like him, and he is enraptured. He is proud, thinking "yes, that is my wife up there robbing those pernicious suitors blind. Ha, ha." It almost makes me laugh just thinking about it -- the interesting development of Odysseus's wife, Penelope.
But there's something else that mortifies me now.
Your way is a far cry from the time-honored way
of suitors locked in rivalry, striving to win
some noble woman, a wealthy man's daughter.
They bring in their own calves and lambs
to feast the friends of the bride-to-be, yes,
and shower her with gleaming gifts as well.
They don't devour the woman's goods scot-free."
Staunch Odysseus glowed with joy to hear all this --
his wife's trickery luring gifts from her suitors now,
enchanting their hearts with suave seductive words
but all the while with something else in mind.
(Homer's 'Odyssey', Book 18, lines 307-318.)
I chose this passage, for it reveals a new side of Penelope's character. Until now she has been pretty passive and lax. She doesn't really seem to be caring about what is going on. She is annoyed with the suitors, and weeps for her husband, but doesn't really do anything. However, in this passage, she decides to trick her cadging suitors, who have been carousing and causing quite a pandemonium. She tells them to start courting her like real men and give her rich gifts, so she will be more inclined to pick a new husband. However, she has no intention of marrying any of them, any time soon. She, like Odysseus, is able to deceive her enemies easily with fanciful fables. Odysseus, disguised as a beggar, hears her and is impressed. He realizes she is much like him, and he is enraptured. He is proud, thinking "yes, that is my wife up there robbing those pernicious suitors blind. Ha, ha." It almost makes me laugh just thinking about it -- the interesting development of Odysseus's wife, Penelope.
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