1.a) Our gut reaction to Winter Oak is that it had a lot of meaning, but was dull and tedious. Some words and phrases we used to relate our thoughts on the story are as follows:
- Boring.
- Monotonous.
- No real conflict.
- No feeling.
- No real plot.
- Didn’t invoke a strong reaction.
- There was a definite lesson to be learned.
1.b) Yuri Nagibin used different devices to evoke various reactions in us, some of these were:
The dialogue; it was concise yet boring but realistic for example, when Anna Vasilyevna was trying to teach the children their nouns. "A noun is a part of speech that denotes an object. In grammar an…" (Nagibin 59). Much of this dialogue is unnecessary; we the reader understands what goes on in the classroom, and two pages are not needed to establish nouns. Also, through dialogue Anna proved to be a snob. "’Good morning Anna Vasilyevna!’ Frolov raised his fur hat above his solid, close-cropped head. ‘what are you doing! Put it back on it’s freezing!’ Frolov probably wanted to pull his fur over his eyes himself…" (Nagibin 58). Anna feels as though she is high and mighty, and will not even acknowledge Frolov’s attempt of respect towards her. There were very powerful images present in the forest, such as the gigantic winter oak. The image of Savushkin standing in front of the Winter Oak, in utter awe of its splendor and Anna Vasilyevna realizing the beauty of the winter oak appeals to the sight, because it is easy to picture in our minds. stood an oak as enormous and magnificent as a cathedral. The trees seemed to part respectfully to allow their older companion to spread out in full force. Its lower branches stretched out in a tent over the clearing. The snow had filled the deep crevices of the bark, and the trunk, which was so wide that it would have taken three men to get their arms around it, looked as if it were shot through with silver thread. It had hardly shed any of its foliage which had dried up during the fall; the oak was covered with snow-capped leaves to the very top. (Nagibin 65)
We experienced an unexpected plot twist when the stern Anna Vasilyevna went into the forest, and understood Savushkin’s point of view about the winter oak, and why he was late everyday. "’My God!’ Anna Vasilyevna thought painfully.
Cheng, Ah. The King of Trees. Trans. Bonnis S. McDougall. New York: New Directions Publishing Corp., 2010. Print.
Dani and I stand in the sun waiting for the “men” to catch up. The view was worth Quill’s whining and navigating through the snow. The breeze catches in the bright green and gold of new Aspen leaves whispering around the lake. The Pine trees scent the air and bask in the sun to steal its warmth from the forest below. The trees are a dark canopy along our path permitting only a few patches of the raised finely mulched trail to a beam or two of sun. Framed like a photo three pencil lead gray peaks rise above a lower sweeping curve of pines. They look close enough to walk over the ridge and touch them. Boulders precariously cling to the side of the mountains. The perfect deep blue early summer sky is the perfect backdrop.
The big tree loomed bigger and closer, and as they bore down on it he thought: ‘It’s waiting for us, it seems to know.’ But suddenly his wife’s face, with its monstrous lineaments, thrust itself between him and his goal, and he made an instinctive movement to brush it aside. The sled swerved in response, but he righted it again and drove down on the black projecting mass. There was a last instant when the air shot past him like millions of fiery wires, and then elm…’Oh, Matt, I thought we’d fetched it,’ he moaned; and far off, up the hill, he heard the sorrel whinny and thought: ‘I ought to be getting him his feed… (Wharton,
After several miles of tromping through the thick, slimy mud, I reached the hill with the tree upon it. Panting, I raced towards the hill and begin to climb it. My foot slid on the slick ground, but I persevered. I reached the top of the hill and felt disappointed. Trees were supposed to be surrounded by other plants and teeming with wildlife. Not this tree. The mud I trudged through covered the hill, coating the tree’s roots. There were no other plants. In fact, as I looked around, I noticed tha...
3. Chapter 1, page 5, #3: “Moving through the soaked, coarse grass I began to examine each one closely, and finally identified the tree I was looking for by means of certain small scars rising along its trunk, and by a limb extending over the river, and another thinner limb growing near it.
IT WAS ONE OF those perfect autumn days so common in stories and so rare in the real world. The weather was warm and dry, ideal for ripening a field of wheat or corn. On both sides of the road the trees were changing color. Tall poplars had gone a buttery yellow while the shrubby sumac encroaching on the road was tinged a violent red. Only the old oaks seemed reluctant to give up the summer, and their leaves remained an even mingling of gold and green.
It captures the emotions left in the hearts of these characters. In the novel, Gurov’s imagery differentiates between young romance and the connections of lasting love. One of the main sceneries of the story takes place in the beautiful resort town of Yalta. According to Chekhov’s novel, Yalta is described as “The water was a warm, tender purple, the moonlight lay on its surface in a golden strip” (2). Yalta is an exciting place for new, colorful, and youth romance to begin. Another part of the novel’s setting are the confined homes of both Anna and Gurov. Where gray haunts their homes in their monotonous days away from each other. Chekhov mentions, “He sat up in bed, covered by the cheap gray quilt, which reminded him of a hospital blanket, and in his vexation he fell to taunting himself” (10). The reoccurrence of the gray description of the homes of Gurov and Anna while they are in despair when away from each other, with the colorful images of Yalta and the emotions of happiness when they are together, show how the separation in setting is important to the emotions of the characters. At the resort with Anna, Gurov’s day are full of passion, excitement and a carefree lifestyle similar to the youth of society. While away from her, Gurov savors the precious instants of her company. “Anna Sergeyevna did not come to him in his dreams, she accompanied him everywhere, like his shadow, following him
Anton Chekhov (1860-1904) was born a year before the emancipation of serfism in Russia took place. Although he was the grandson of a serf, Chekhov was able to attend the medical school at the University of Moscow and become a physician. Chekhov started writing in order to support his family economically, becoming a master in drama and short stories. His literature is characterized by the use of colloquial language which could be understood even by the less educated and recently liberated serfs. Social change is the main theme in ‘The Cherry Orchard’, a four-act play written in 1904. In this play the different characters portray how changes in Russia after the emancipation of 1861 were taking place and although the play is set several years after this, it is clearly seen how the play develops around this event. For peasants, the liberation of 1861 brought different consequences. Not all of them took advantage of their freedom, and for some, their lives were the same after being liberated. In this play, these differences can clearly be seen. A main character of this play is Yermolai Lopahkin. Being son and grandson of serfs, represents the young class of peasants who got advantage of the emancipation and achieved economic success. Also, we have minor characters that represent other side of liberated serfs, who did not have Lopakhin’s opportunities to success after emancipation.
There have always been many different trees are found in the forest. Tall ones, round of leaf and with broad branches spread open in welcome. Short ones are found here as well, with thin trunks and wiry limbs they sway in the breeze. A wide variety of foliage in the emerald grove dancing merrily to the whispers of the wind. In this quiet thicket, a different type of tree grows, too. They stand resolute, patient, and ever growing.
The man was a human tree, his height, towering high above Papa’s six feet two inches. The long trunk of his massive body bulged with muscles, and his skin, of the deepest ebony, was partially scattered upon his face and neck, as if by fire. Deep life lines were cut in his face and his hair was splotched with grey, but his eyes were clear and penetrating. (34-35)
Trees, some of them a few thousand years old, have majestically stood on the face of the earth and have silently witnessed the evolution of human civilization. These trees are the living alibis of our pasts, magnificent markers of history. With their unusual shapes, enchanting legends and historical significance, some of these trees have become more than just giant trunks. Listing below ten such trees whose wooden hearts have amazing stories to tell!
“They had passed autumn afternoons when they were nine years old in the hollowed-out base of a cedar tree, where they sprawled on the ground looking out at the rain as it pummeled the sword ferns and ivy. At school they were stran...
The snow that was predicted to be several inches by the end of the weekend quickly piled up to around eight inches by that evening. At times, the snow was falling so heavily you could hardly see the streetlights that glistened like beacons in a sea of snow. With the landscape draped in white, the trees hangi...
We slowly crept around the corner, finally sneaking a peek at our cabin. As I hopped out of the front seat of the truck, a sharp sense of loneliness came over me. I looked around and saw nothing but the leaves on the trees glittering from the constant blowing wind. Catching myself standing staring around me at all the beautiful trees, I noticed that the trees have not changed at all, but still stand tall and as close as usual. I realized that the trees surrounding the cabin are similar to the being of my family: the feelings of never being parted when were all together staying at our cabin.
Many sands had the tree known; many green neighbors had come and gone, yet the tree remained. The mighty roots had endured such whips and scorns as had been cast upon it, but the old tree had survived, a pillar of twisted iron and horn against the now sickly sky. In the waning light of evening, the tree waited.