“Good frend for lesves sake forbeare,
To digg the dvst encloased heare
Blest be ye man yt spares thes Stones,
Avon cvrst be he yt moves my bones”.
I think that this story wants to show us that an author will be alive for ever through his work. Despite his death, Shakespeare will remain alive through literature.
Another massage that I can take into account is that the destruction of Shakespeare´ s grave stone exemplifies the destruction of our thoughts, the destruction of our inner self.
miércoles, 20 de mayo de 2009
Tales in the Sun by Neil Gaiman
I think that “Tales in the sun” is a lovely love story between Queen Nada and The Loard of the Dreams called Kai´ckul. But their love is an impossible one, as mortals don´t marry the endless.
The distruction of the city of glass makes treir love impossible since this event makes Nada feels herself guilty.
Although the Loard Kai´clul promisses her infinite love and to be the Queen of his dream World, she refuses this true love.
I believe that this story is a good example of the way we sacrifice ourselves for love, but not any kind of love a real one, the one that fills our heart with joy, the one that Could live inside us forever, the one that makes us free.
The distruction of the city of glass makes treir love impossible since this event makes Nada feels herself guilty.
Although the Loard Kai´clul promisses her infinite love and to be the Queen of his dream World, she refuses this true love.
I believe that this story is a good example of the way we sacrifice ourselves for love, but not any kind of love a real one, the one that fills our heart with joy, the one that Could live inside us forever, the one that makes us free.
STARRY, STARRY NIGHT by Don McLean
Through this poem and the song, I can sense that despite his colourless life, Vincent Van Goh makes his paintings full of colours and images.
I think that the massage that I can get is that art, colours, images, can make us free, it can make us inmerse in a colourful World despite our disgusts and anger.
Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.
Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...
I think that the massage that I can get is that art, colours, images, can make us free, it can make us inmerse in a colourful World despite our disgusts and anger.
Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.
Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...
Boule de Suif by Guy de Maupassant
I think that this story is a good example of hypocrasy.
Hypocrasy is shown at the very beginning of the story, when Boule the Suif is in the stagecoach with other occupants (each of whom represents a different social class). Despite the fact that she is discriminated by them, she glady shares her picnic basket with the hungry occupants of the coach. But at the end of the story, when she has no food for the rest of the journy, the others occupants refuse to share their food with her.
In addiction, another part of the story that depicts hypocrasy, is when they persuade her to sleep with the German officer, so that they can continue with the journy, and arguing that it is for the good of the country and it is not moraly wrong to sleep with him, when finally she sleeps with him, they threw a party without her.
To concluye, I think that the end of the story is very shocking. Despite the fact that she set them free, they treat her with indifference, they treat her like an object, what´s more like a thing.
Hypocrasy is shown at the very beginning of the story, when Boule the Suif is in the stagecoach with other occupants (each of whom represents a different social class). Despite the fact that she is discriminated by them, she glady shares her picnic basket with the hungry occupants of the coach. But at the end of the story, when she has no food for the rest of the journy, the others occupants refuse to share their food with her.
In addiction, another part of the story that depicts hypocrasy, is when they persuade her to sleep with the German officer, so that they can continue with the journy, and arguing that it is for the good of the country and it is not moraly wrong to sleep with him, when finally she sleeps with him, they threw a party without her.
To concluye, I think that the end of the story is very shocking. Despite the fact that she set them free, they treat her with indifference, they treat her like an object, what´s more like a thing.
"SOME COLOUR IN OUR LIVES"
I think that the class that we had with the analysis of the gaps in the story of “The colourful World of Calum MaCall” was amazing!, all of us made wonderful presentations. Here is ours: (Maricel, Celeste and me)
"Life is what happens to you, when you are busy making other plans." - John Lennon
STORY:
An American businessman took a vacation to a small coastal Mexican village on doctor’s orders. Unable to sleep after an urgent phone call from the office the first morning, he walked out to the pier to clear his head. A small boat with just one fisherman had docked, and inside the boat were several large yellow fin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish.
“How long did it take you to catch them?” the American asked.
“Only a little while,” the Mexican replied in surprisingly good English.
“Why don’t you stay out longer and catch more fish?” the American then asked.
“I have enough to support my family and give a few to friends,” the Mexican said as he unloaded them into a basket.
“But…What do you do with the rest of your time?”
The Mexican looked up and smiled. “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife, Julia and stroll into the village each evening, where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life, senor.”
The American laughed and stood tall. “Sir, I’m a Harvard M.B.A. and I can help you. You should spend more time fishing, and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat. In no time, you could buy several boats with the increased haul. Eventually, you would have a fleet of fishing boats.”
He continued, “Instead of selling your catch to a middleman, you would sell directly to the consumers, eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing, and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village, of course move to Mexico City, then to Los Angeles, and eventually New York City, where you could run your expanding enterprise with proper management.”
The Mexican fisherman asked, “But senor, how long will all this take?”
To which the American replied, “15-20 years. 25 tops.”
“But what then, senor?”
The American laughed and said, “That’s the best part. When the time is right, you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You would make millions.”
“Millions, senor? Then what?”
“Then you would retire and move to a small coastal fishing village, where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, and stroll to the village in the evenings, where you could sip wine and play guitar with your amigos…”
We couldn´t find a better example than this story to exemplify our Choice for the gap in the story of Calum Macall.
The gap that we chose is “The loss of innosence” and the part of the story that we chose for this gap is:
“Years later, Callum married and had children of his own. One day his baby son pointed at the sky and gurgled with pleasure. Calum followed the pointed finger, but Could see nothing particularly special up there- nothing that was visible to him, anyway”…….
After reading this, we realizad that grown ups´ lives are ate-up by their ambitious, by the “Rat Race”, for an endless and pointless pursuit. We as people living in this era, become rats of the modern city, running around a wheel, making a lot of noise, dumping into each other but achiving nothing.
We have no dreams, no hopes, no colours in our lives, just days, hours, minutes. We submerge our dreams into the Soutine of our lives.
So…. Are we Hamsters?...... Maybe it is time to get off the wheel and consider our options.
“By working faithfully eight hours a day, you may eventually get to be a boss and work twelve hours a day.” - Robert Frost
"Life is what happens to you, when you are busy making other plans." - John Lennon
STORY:
An American businessman took a vacation to a small coastal Mexican village on doctor’s orders. Unable to sleep after an urgent phone call from the office the first morning, he walked out to the pier to clear his head. A small boat with just one fisherman had docked, and inside the boat were several large yellow fin tuna. The American complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish.
“How long did it take you to catch them?” the American asked.
“Only a little while,” the Mexican replied in surprisingly good English.
“Why don’t you stay out longer and catch more fish?” the American then asked.
“I have enough to support my family and give a few to friends,” the Mexican said as he unloaded them into a basket.
“But…What do you do with the rest of your time?”
The Mexican looked up and smiled. “I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife, Julia and stroll into the village each evening, where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos. I have a full and busy life, senor.”
The American laughed and stood tall. “Sir, I’m a Harvard M.B.A. and I can help you. You should spend more time fishing, and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat. In no time, you could buy several boats with the increased haul. Eventually, you would have a fleet of fishing boats.”
He continued, “Instead of selling your catch to a middleman, you would sell directly to the consumers, eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing, and distribution. You would need to leave this small coastal fishing village, of course move to Mexico City, then to Los Angeles, and eventually New York City, where you could run your expanding enterprise with proper management.”
The Mexican fisherman asked, “But senor, how long will all this take?”
To which the American replied, “15-20 years. 25 tops.”
“But what then, senor?”
The American laughed and said, “That’s the best part. When the time is right, you would announce an IPO and sell your company stock to the public and become very rich. You would make millions.”
“Millions, senor? Then what?”
“Then you would retire and move to a small coastal fishing village, where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, and stroll to the village in the evenings, where you could sip wine and play guitar with your amigos…”
THE END
We couldn´t find a better example than this story to exemplify our Choice for the gap in the story of Calum Macall.
The gap that we chose is “The loss of innosence” and the part of the story that we chose for this gap is:
“Years later, Callum married and had children of his own. One day his baby son pointed at the sky and gurgled with pleasure. Calum followed the pointed finger, but Could see nothing particularly special up there- nothing that was visible to him, anyway”…….
After reading this, we realizad that grown ups´ lives are ate-up by their ambitious, by the “Rat Race”, for an endless and pointless pursuit. We as people living in this era, become rats of the modern city, running around a wheel, making a lot of noise, dumping into each other but achiving nothing.
We have no dreams, no hopes, no colours in our lives, just days, hours, minutes. We submerge our dreams into the Soutine of our lives.
So…. Are we Hamsters?...... Maybe it is time to get off the wheel and consider our options.
“By working faithfully eight hours a day, you may eventually get to be a boss and work twelve hours a day.” - Robert Frost
WHAT IS READING AND WRITTING?
I BELIEVE READING MAKES US DISCOVER NEW WORLDS, SENSE DIFFERENT FEELINGS. WHEN WE READ, WE FILL OUR SOULS, WE ENLARGE OUR KNOWLEDGE. WHAT´S MORE, WE ARE INMERSED IN A MAGIC WORLD FULL OF SENSES AND DESCRIPTIVE IMAGES.
I NOTICED, THAT WHENEVER I READ SOMETHING OR WHEN I am BEING READ, I ALWAYS FIND MYSELF IN A COMFORTABLE PLACE, FOR EXAMPLE BESIDE THE FIREPLACE, IN MY GARDEN OR EVEN BESIDE THE FLICKING OF A CANDLE BUT COMFORTABLE ANYWAY.
WHEN WE WRITE, WE GIVE OUR SOULS TO THE REST OF THE WORDL, THERE ARE NOT BOUNDARIES. WE SAY WHO AND HOW WE ARE. IN ADDICTION, WE CAN SHOW OUR FEELINGS, OUR THOUGHTS, OUR EMOTIONS. WHENEVER WE WRITE, WE GIVE THE pWORLD ONE PART OF OURSELVES.
I THINK THAT THE TWO OF THEM GO HAND IN HAND AND THEY ARE ESSENTIAL FOR OUR LIVES, AND AS OUR TEACHER TOLD US :” WRITTING IS SKIN-DIVING AND READING IS RE-WRITTING”.
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