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The influence in literature
What is the importance of character development in literature
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It was not yet 7 AM, but they day was already growing hot. The country club’s bleary-eyed teenage employees were setting up chairs for a wedding, casually conversing as they wiped sweat from their foreheads. Across the golf course and out of their view, an older woman strode purposefully. The sun glistening off her blue sequined dress and foil coated boots would have surely blinded her if not for the colander atop her head. The ensemble was only made stranger by the broken toaster under her arm.
As she crested the hill by the seventh hole, she was suddenly visible to the group of teenagers. The shift manager, Bennett, was only perhaps 5 years older than the other workers, but wielded his little power fiercely. As soon as he saw the sun glint off the woman’s metallic attire, he whipped around to face his colleagues. “Guys!” he hissed urgently. “She’s coming!” The conversation was replaced by excited whispers as the teenagers realized what was about to happen.
Bennett shushed the group and turned around smiling as the woman made her way towards the emerging wedding setup. “Good morning, Ms. B!” he gushed. “How are you today?”
“I’m quite well, young man. But please resurge Mr. Barkley.” With that she handed Bennett the broken toaster. Upon seeing his consternation, she abruptly laughed.
“Oh no. What year is it?”
“2013,” the teenagers yelped gleefully.
Ms. B clapped a hand to the colander covering her forehead. “Well of course you can’t resurge Mr. Barkley,” she said matter-of-factly. “Tetracells aren’t near invention yet. You still have flesh-and-blood pets! But I suppose that’s what I get for trusting my silly old time machine,” she said, smiling as though she had made a trivial mistake like forgetting her purse. Then without fur...
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... point was that Peter knew he had no business prying. So he simply smiled back sheepishly, and walked quickly to his car.
The next week Peter was not particularly surprised to see a woman striding along in a wetsuit spray painted neon blue. The rest of the teenagers slipped into their usual routine of whispered mockery and stifled giggles while Bennett stepped forward authoritatively. Peter smiled and looked away as Mrs. B tried to plug a USB cord into Bennett’s shoe. When Bennett tried to explain that rubber was not a conductor of electricity at this point in time, Peter caught Mrs. B’s eye. She smirked at him and winked once, but didn’t say a word. And when Bennett discovered that their guest had left behind a pile of stapled together springs, Peter didn’t offer to return it. “I’ll just give it to her next time she comes,” he said, and couldn’t help but smile.
The contrast between how She sees herself and how the rest of the world sees Her can create extreme emotional strain; add on the fact that She hails from the early 1900s and it becomes evident that, though her mental construct is not necessarily prepared to understand the full breach against Her, She is still capable of some iota of realization. The discrimination encountered by a female during this time period is great and unceasing.
Leaving everyone in shock and disbelief, especially in the case of Mrs. Turpin she boldly asks what the girl has to say to her. Settling her eyes on her the young girl says in a clear, but quiet tone “Go back to hell where you came from, you old warthog.” This ugly nasty young girl is the thing through which the truth is revealed to Mrs.
”On her way home she usually bought a slice of honey cake at the baker’s. It was her Sunday treat. But today she passed the baker’s boy, climbed the stairs, went into the little dark room -- her room like a cupboard --- and sat down on the red eiderdown”(103). As you can see the impact of what the young teens
The book starts off with Jeannette, a successful adult, taking a taxi to a nice party. When she looked out the window, she saw a woman digging through the garbage. The woman was her mother. Rather than calling out to her or saying hi, Jeannette slid down into the seat in fear that her mother would see her. When asking her mother what she should say when people ask about her family, Rose Mary Walls only told her, “Ju...
on to work before you is late. And don't let on like you know nothing about that boy being killed before Mrs. Burke them. Just do your work like you don't know nothing. That boy's a lot better off in heaven than he is here."1
While the main character Mrs.Turpin is sitting in the waiting room she begins to judge the all the strangers on how “they sat kind of vacant and white trashy”(4). Even though Mrs. Turpin does not know the people in the waiting it does not stop her from making assumptions about their class. O’Connor’s pejorative styles reveals Mrs. Turpin's judgmental character . Another display of O'Connor's style is through the dialogue of another girl in the waiting room. After listening to Mrs. Turpin speak in the waiting room the girl sees Mrs.Turpin's true identity and tells her to “Go back to hell where [she] came from”(21). Her pejorative language reveals the way others see Mrs. Turpin and presents her judgemental character once again. As expressed, Flannery O'Connor's pejorative style reveals the way Mrs. Turpin views others and how others view
Miss Hancock, her personality and beliefs were contrasted entirely by her character foil, Charlotte’s mother, “this civilized, this clean, this disciplined woman.” All through Charlotte’s life, her mother dictated her every move. A “small child [was] a terrible test to that cool and orderly spirit.” Her mother was “lovely to look at, with her dark-blond hair, her flawless figure, her smooth hands. She never acted frazzled or rushed or angry, and her forehead was unmarked by age lines or worry. Even her appearance differed greatly to Miss Hancock, who she described as,” overdone, too much enthusiasm. Flamboyant. Orange hair.” The discrepancy between the characters couldn’t escape Charlotte’s writing, her metaphors. Her seemingly perfect mother was “a flawless, modern building, created of glass and the smoothest of pale concrete. Inside are business offices furnished with beige carpets and gleaming chromium. In every room there are machines – computers, typewriters, intricate copiers. They are buzzing and clicking way, absorbing and spitting out information with the speed of sound. Downstairs, at ground level, people walk in and out, tracking mud and dirt over the steel-grey tiles, marring the cool perfection of the building. There are no comfortable chairs in the lobby.” By description, her mother is fully based on ideals and manners, aloof, running her life with “sure and perfect control.” Miss
After the manager admonishes the girls for their appearance, Sammy impulsively quits, trying to be a hero within his own narrative. This represents the culminating points of the story. “Queenie” never notices his actions; she...
Miss Brill is without any relatives or close friends. She has no acquaintances to converse with. Therefore, she treats her fur as if it were a pet. Her fur is a “dear little thing” (98) with eyes and a tail. She sometimes feels like “stroking” it (98).
Throughout the story there are several aspects of the Protagonist’s character that play a major role in the shaping of her future. During her childhood she often demonstrates a sense of fear when she is sent to her bedroom. “We were afraid of the inside, the room were we slept (pg. 549).” She is intimidated by her personal space because she does not have control over it. Later, she gains control by adding lace to her side of the room; symbolically adding personality to herself and slipping into womanhood. When she felt uncomfortable she exercised her imagination, to psychologically regain control over the confusion in her life. Her subconscious effort to control confusing times were carried on to her later years as she was constantly put in difficult situations, which helped her to adjust quickly to change during adulthood. The dreams she created changed when she began to place emphasis on her appearance-that which she could control, other than past dreams of heroism that seemed so distant from reality. The Protagonist filled her childhood with much pride and maintained a consistent focused upon the activities that filled her childhood. She relished working at the side of her father, taking immense pride in every aspect of her assigned duties. She proclaimed, “I worked willingly under his eyes, and with a feeling of pride (pg. 551)” Once after her father introduced her to a feed sales man as “my new hired man (pg. 551),” the Protagonist was flooded with pride as she “turned away and raked furiously, red in the face with pleasure (pg. 551).” In her later years her pride helped her to assemble strong self-confidence she used in her years of growing. Passion and depth were characteristics that impacted her future as a woman. Her passion and depth was revealed early on in the story ...
In 1949, Motion picture director Vincente Minnelli carefully crafted a film adaptation of author Gustave Flaubert’s 1854 novel Madame Bovary. Minnelli was able to portray various literary metaphors from Flaubert’s novel in his film to capture the image of the story. Through Minnelli’s own use of cinematic metaphors, with the help of the camera movement, editing, lighting, and music. Though Minnelli’s creation was brilliant there are times that he fails to fully express Flaubert’s imagery. This paper will be a critical analysis of a scene in the film, (1:50:15-1:51:33) and a passage from the novel, (Part III, chapter eight page 288-289). It will review the ways the film, properly portrayed the novel in its use of dialogue, the adaptation of the literary metaphors into cinematic metaphors. In the scene in discussion, the central character Madame Bovary is on her deathbed. She had eaten a handful of arsenic, and is dying a very painful death. By her side are her husband Charles Bovary, and the town priest Abbe Bournisie, who has come to give the women a blessing sacrament of holy unction before she passes.
Our backs hunched over as we started lifting sustainable sandbags with our drained muscular arms onto a dark wooden shelf. The scorching sun heated up the unswept metal fence behind us. Our feet were burning as we stood on the blistering concrete floor. We were sweating from every inch of our dried out body’s. Looking around the isolated area the smell of freshly cut grass starts to fill up in the atmosphere. The crinkled brown autumn leaves abandoned the thin branches sticking out from the ancient oak tree stood in front of us. A mysterious slim figure approached us from the distance. As the strange shadow got closer to me I could see a velvet red knee high dress blowing in the wind; bright red lipstick on a slim face, it became clear to me that it was Curley’s wife! Her devilish eyes looked deep into our sole as she stroked silky, exotic hair with her perfectly painted, red finger nails. “Hey boys” she called. I looked away with no interest; Lennie followed my lead. Her face went from a cheery smile to a sulky frown and she bashfully strolled
The ballroom at the Yacht Club was decorated with deep red roses and black ribbons, the perfect combination of colors for a winter wedding. Long, tall windows covered the walls to let all the guests experience the view of the nearby ocean. Each round table was decorated with a long black underskirt cloth, a shorter bright white tablecloth, with each placemat arranged around a beautiful vase full of red roses. The wooden dance floor, full of chairs for the ceremony, took up half of the room, while the other half was occupied with 15 round tables and one rectangular Head Table. As the guests walked up the stairs to our ballroom, they would see a guest book that was decorated with pictures and captions and ready for their signatures.
When first reading this short story the character of an older woman comes to mind only to find later in an important passage “She was young, with a fair, calm face, whose lines bespoke repression and even a certain strength (Clugston, 2010, sec 2.1). This passage finally gives the reader a detailing idea of the woman in this story and defines her as a younger woman rather than an older one. This may l...
I awoke to the sun piercing through the screen of my tent while stretching my arms out wide to nudge my friend Alicia to wake up. “Finally!” I said to Alicia, the countdown is over. As I unzip the screen door and we climb out of our tent, I’m embraced with the aroma of campfire burritos that Alicia’s mom Nancy was preparing for us on her humungous skillet. While we wait for our breakfast to be finished, me and Alicia, as we do every morning, head to the front convenient store for our morning french vanilla cappuccino. On our walk back to the campsite we always take a short stroll along the lake shore to admire the incandescent sun as it shines over the gleaming dark blue water. This has become a tradition that we do every