1. "His clam, but intense attention to detail leaves readers intimidated yet expectant for the forth coming of his next step."
Rule 4 - Don't refer to the reader(s). Btw, "clam" is spelled "claim." Derp.
2. "The sound and vulgarity shows Holden's ruthless and loud personality."
Rule 6 - Avoid the word "show."
3. "Baker uses a lot of language that magnifies the importance of the coldness felt, "spreading into a needly area of shine where it fell against their brushed-steel side-panels, and adding long glossy highlights to each of the black rubber handrails", this creates imagery for the reader of what the daily worker sees."
Rule 8 - Punctuation goes inside the quotation marks.
4. "His negative connotation is straightforward and precise."
Rule 3 - You never explained why the connotation is precise, and only ever implied straightforwardness in a very discreet way.
This is my favorite close reading:
Monday, October 31, 2011
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Practice Diction Analysis
In this excerpt from J. D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye, the narrator’s conversational, slightly harsh diction emphasizes the youthful, rambling, aloof style with which he speaks and thinks. The narrator rejects talking about his childhood, labeling it as “all that David Copperfield kind of crap.” He furthermore isn’t going to “tell you [his] whole goddam autobiography or anything.” Rather, the narrator centers his attentions on his brother, a rich writer whom he admires, in addition to “this madman stuff that happened to [him] around last Christmas.” From the narrator’s colloquialisms and lack of consideration for conventionality when first telling someone about himself, one can derive that the narrator is a brash youth given to roughness of speech.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Style Mapping
The diction in Neil Gaiman's Stardust is rather nondescript in terms of elevation. The diction here tends to be connotative, using the same words quoted above to establish a mood of foreignness and foreboding. The sound here is more harsh than mellifluous, with phrases such as "dark slate roofs and high chimneys" and "grey and tall and stocky" which serve to evoke a feeling of strangeness which one feels when placed into an unfamiliar situation.
The diction in Alain de Botton's How Proust Can Change Your Life is incredibly formal, as evidenced in the following sentence: "Had we been placed on earth by a malign creator for the exclusive purpose of suffering, we would have good reason to congratulate ourselves on our enthusiastic response to the task." While the previous passage was more connotative than denotative, the tone of this passage is denotative, which goes along with its genre, self-help. The sound here is sophisticated, so one might call it musical.
Finally, the diction in Jon Krakauer's Into Thin Air is denotative, the sound noncommital, and the elevation more formal than informal. The author uses fancy adjectives to describe his surroundings, while denotative-ness can be derived from the informative tone with which he explains what he is doing. The sound, going along with the fancy adjectives used to describe, is more harmonious than discordant.
The diction in Alain de Botton's How Proust Can Change Your Life is incredibly formal, as evidenced in the following sentence: "Had we been placed on earth by a malign creator for the exclusive purpose of suffering, we would have good reason to congratulate ourselves on our enthusiastic response to the task." While the previous passage was more connotative than denotative, the tone of this passage is denotative, which goes along with its genre, self-help. The sound here is sophisticated, so one might call it musical.
Finally, the diction in Jon Krakauer's Into Thin Air is denotative, the sound noncommital, and the elevation more formal than informal. The author uses fancy adjectives to describe his surroundings, while denotative-ness can be derived from the informative tone with which he explains what he is doing. The sound, going along with the fancy adjectives used to describe, is more harmonious than discordant.
Aging and Death
I've been reading The Accidental Tourist by Anne Tyler, about Macon Leary, a travel guidebook writer who hates to travel. Macon has a wife, Sarah, who is his polar opposite; while Macon is uptight and fastidious, Sarah is messy and carefree. Their son, Ethan, was killed in a fast-food restaurant shooting. The book tells the tale of how Macon, after divorcing Sarah, finds new love in Muriel Pritchett, a dog trainer several years his junior. In particular, I found this passage at the very end captivating:
"And if dead people aged, wouldn't it be a comfort? To think of Ethan growing up in heaven - fourteen years old now instead of twelve - eased the grief a little. Oh, it was their immunity to time that made the dead so heartbreaking. (Look at the husband who dies young, the wife aging on without him; how sad to imagine the husband coming back to find her so changed.) Macon gazed out the cab window, considering the notion in his mind. He felt a kind of inner rush, a racing forward. The real adventure, he thought, is the flow of time; it's as much adventure as anyone could wish. And if he pictured Ethan still part of that flow - in some other place, however unreachable - he believed he might be able to bear it after all."
This passage was worthy of being mentioned in that it made me think of the people I've known that have passed away. (Fortunately, they number only a few.) I thought of my grandmother with whom I lived for four years, a grandfather and an uncle I hardly knew, and a great-grandmother, of whom I've never seen the face. Like the passage says, it seems that these people I knew stopped aging the moment they died. Their faces, some half-formed and others clear as day, remain frozen in time in my memory.
Then, I thought to myself, how would things be different if I knew that they continued aging somewhere, albeit somewhere unreachable, foreign? If stillborn infants could live on, cry, laugh, go through childhood, and rule the world? It would be somewhat comforting to the bereaved, I imagine.
"And if dead people aged, wouldn't it be a comfort? To think of Ethan growing up in heaven - fourteen years old now instead of twelve - eased the grief a little. Oh, it was their immunity to time that made the dead so heartbreaking. (Look at the husband who dies young, the wife aging on without him; how sad to imagine the husband coming back to find her so changed.) Macon gazed out the cab window, considering the notion in his mind. He felt a kind of inner rush, a racing forward. The real adventure, he thought, is the flow of time; it's as much adventure as anyone could wish. And if he pictured Ethan still part of that flow - in some other place, however unreachable - he believed he might be able to bear it after all."
This passage was worthy of being mentioned in that it made me think of the people I've known that have passed away. (Fortunately, they number only a few.) I thought of my grandmother with whom I lived for four years, a grandfather and an uncle I hardly knew, and a great-grandmother, of whom I've never seen the face. Like the passage says, it seems that these people I knew stopped aging the moment they died. Their faces, some half-formed and others clear as day, remain frozen in time in my memory.
Then, I thought to myself, how would things be different if I knew that they continued aging somewhere, albeit somewhere unreachable, foreign? If stillborn infants could live on, cry, laugh, go through childhood, and rule the world? It would be somewhat comforting to the bereaved, I imagine.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Currently
Books I'm Reading:
None. I've finished all my books.
I am, however, planning on reading:
The Accidental Tourist by Anne Tyler
This week: 457
Last week: 138
Semester: 1535
Sentences(passages) of the week: (All from "Battle Hymn")
1. "Of course, I also wanted Sophia to benefit from the best aspects of American society. I did not want her to end up like one of those weird Asian automatons who feel so much pressure from their parents that they kill themselves after coming in second on the national civil service exam. I wanted her to be well rounded and to have hobbies and activities. Not just any activity, like "crafts" which can lead nowhere - or even worse, playing the drums, which leads to drugs - but rather a hobby that was meaningful and highly difficult with the potential for depth and virtuosity. And that's where the piano came in."
2. "One jarring thing that many Chinese people do is openly compare their children. I never thought this was so bad when I was growing up, because I always came off well in the comparison. My Dragon Lady grandmother - the rich one, on my father's side - egregiously favored me over all my sisters. 'Look how flat that one's nose is,' she would cackle at family gatherings, pointing at one of my siblings. 'Not like Amy, who has a fine, high-bridged nose. Amy looks like a Chua. That one takes after her mother's side of the family. and looks like a monkey.'"
3. "The Chinese parenting approach is weakest when it comes to failure; it just doesn't tolerate that possibility."
First of all, everyone knows that learning the drums leads to drug use. There have been 5 cases of people I knew who started learning drums, only to be tempted by drugs. Drums and drugs: the two are interchangeable. Of course, I exaggerate greatly. However, that is sort of the mindset that Asian parents have. If you do something that your parents disapprove of, it will automatically lead to the worst possible result without fail. Sometimes, I really hate that mindset.
2nd quote. Again, something I dislike from the Asian parenting method. While Amy Chua explains why parents do it in her novel (to express confidence in the child on the losing end that they, too, can be like the child on the winning end), it's still incredibly tedious to hear parents say, "Oh, look at so-and-so, he/she can do such-and-such. How are you so worthless as to not be able to do such-and-such?"
3rd quote. Failure includes yelling, constant nagging, and threats, so yeah, I'd say failure is intolerable.
None. I've finished all my books.
I am, however, planning on reading:
The Accidental Tourist by Anne Tyler
This week: 457
Last week: 138
Semester: 1535
Sentences(passages) of the week: (All from "Battle Hymn")
1. "Of course, I also wanted Sophia to benefit from the best aspects of American society. I did not want her to end up like one of those weird Asian automatons who feel so much pressure from their parents that they kill themselves after coming in second on the national civil service exam. I wanted her to be well rounded and to have hobbies and activities. Not just any activity, like "crafts" which can lead nowhere - or even worse, playing the drums, which leads to drugs - but rather a hobby that was meaningful and highly difficult with the potential for depth and virtuosity. And that's where the piano came in."
2. "One jarring thing that many Chinese people do is openly compare their children. I never thought this was so bad when I was growing up, because I always came off well in the comparison. My Dragon Lady grandmother - the rich one, on my father's side - egregiously favored me over all my sisters. 'Look how flat that one's nose is,' she would cackle at family gatherings, pointing at one of my siblings. 'Not like Amy, who has a fine, high-bridged nose. Amy looks like a Chua. That one takes after her mother's side of the family. and looks like a monkey.'"
3. "The Chinese parenting approach is weakest when it comes to failure; it just doesn't tolerate that possibility."
First of all, everyone knows that learning the drums leads to drug use. There have been 5 cases of people I knew who started learning drums, only to be tempted by drugs. Drums and drugs: the two are interchangeable. Of course, I exaggerate greatly. However, that is sort of the mindset that Asian parents have. If you do something that your parents disapprove of, it will automatically lead to the worst possible result without fail. Sometimes, I really hate that mindset.
2nd quote. Again, something I dislike from the Asian parenting method. While Amy Chua explains why parents do it in her novel (to express confidence in the child on the losing end that they, too, can be like the child on the winning end), it's still incredibly tedious to hear parents say, "Oh, look at so-and-so, he/she can do such-and-such. How are you so worthless as to not be able to do such-and-such?"
3rd quote. Failure includes yelling, constant nagging, and threats, so yeah, I'd say failure is intolerable.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Mymomisafob.com And Mydadisafob.com
Adding on to my experiences reading Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother by Amy Chua, I'd like to share a pair of websites that you may or may not find funny.
http://www.mymomisafob.com
http://www.mydadisafob.com
(The links don't work, so you'll have to ctrl+c.)
These websites share stories from all over about the English trouble, technological difficulties, awkward situations, and just plain adorableness of Asian FOB's. The acronym stands for "Fresh Off Boat," the term for immigrants (mostly Asian ones). You may or may not find these anecdotes funny due to lack of Asian parents. (I suggest you borrow mine.)
Here are some particularly good ones:
A Lesson To Learn
Scene: School parking lot after class ends. My mom points out a Chinese couple making out near the bathrooms.
Mom: Aiiiiiiiiiii-YAAAAAAAAAA! Can’t they do that behind bushes or suuumting? If you eveeeeeeeeeeer get boyfriend, don’t let me see do something like that!
Me: Don’t worry. I wouldn’t dare to.
Mom: Good. Because if you do, I take picture and send it to grandma. And then when grandma get heart-attack, you pay hospital bills.
Online Predators via Youtube?
So my mom is a VERY protective mother. This is what happened after she watched a 60 minutes special on Online Predators. I’m watching a Video Blog on Youtube…
Mom: Who is that guy?
Me: I don’t know
Mom: Why is he talking to you??
Me: It’s a video…
Mom (at the computer): GO AWAY, MY DAUGHTER DON’T WANT TO MEET UP AND TALK TO YOU
Dear Literate Dog,
My dad and dog have a hate-hate relationship; he’s the only person she barks at. My dad has been trying to get her to stay downstairs during the day to minimize accidents. I came home to this sign. I asked him why he wrote a sign and he just said it works…
Text Message Abbreviations
Daddy: Had a long snap?
Me: Yeah. Sup?
Daddy: What sup
Me: It’s an abbrev for what’s up?
Daddy: Nup
Daddy: For nothing is up
http://www.mymomisafob.com
http://www.mydadisafob.com
(The links don't work, so you'll have to ctrl+c.)
These websites share stories from all over about the English trouble, technological difficulties, awkward situations, and just plain adorableness of Asian FOB's. The acronym stands for "Fresh Off Boat," the term for immigrants (mostly Asian ones). You may or may not find these anecdotes funny due to lack of Asian parents. (I suggest you borrow mine.)
Here are some particularly good ones:
A Lesson To Learn
Scene: School parking lot after class ends. My mom points out a Chinese couple making out near the bathrooms.
Mom: Aiiiiiiiiiii-YAAAAAAAAAA! Can’t they do that behind bushes or suuumting? If you eveeeeeeeeeeer get boyfriend, don’t let me see do something like that!
Me: Don’t worry. I wouldn’t dare to.
Mom: Good. Because if you do, I take picture and send it to grandma. And then when grandma get heart-attack, you pay hospital bills.
Online Predators via Youtube?
So my mom is a VERY protective mother. This is what happened after she watched a 60 minutes special on Online Predators. I’m watching a Video Blog on Youtube…
Mom: Who is that guy?
Me: I don’t know
Mom: Why is he talking to you??
Me: It’s a video…
Mom (at the computer): GO AWAY, MY DAUGHTER DON’T WANT TO MEET UP AND TALK TO YOU
Dear Literate Dog,
My dad and dog have a hate-hate relationship; he’s the only person she barks at. My dad has been trying to get her to stay downstairs during the day to minimize accidents. I came home to this sign. I asked him why he wrote a sign and he just said it works…
Text Message Abbreviations
Daddy: Had a long snap?
Me: Yeah. Sup?
Daddy: What sup
Me: It’s an abbrev for what’s up?
Daddy: Nup
Daddy: For nothing is up
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Asian Parents
In honor of the book I'm reading (Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother by Amy Chua, I shall talk about my Asian parents. Chances are, they're probably going to read this without informing me of their intent to do so (as is the Asian-American way), but I've grown used to that. They keep tabs on my Facebook, how should this be any different? Haha.
First, a bit about the book. The epithet reads:
"This is a story about a mother, two daughters, and two dogs.
This was supposed to be a story of how Chinese parents are better at raising kids than Western ones.
But instead, it's about a bitter clash of cultures, a fleeting taste of glory, and how I was humbled by a thirteen-year-old."
This pretty much describes the book. I like how Amy Chua phrased "a fleeting taste of glory;" it sounds poetic (perhaps unintentionally) to me.
Within the Chua household, the two children, Sophia and Louisa (Lulu), were not allowed to do several things:
- attend a sleepover
- have a playdate
- be in a school play
- complain about not being in a school play
- watch TV or play computer games
- choose their own extracurricular activities
- get any grade less than an A
- not be the #1 student in every subject except gym and drama
- play any instrument besides the piano or violin
- not play the piano or violin
What does this sound like? Well, to some, it may sound like hell. Derive a child of the pleasures of childhood in the form of Teletubbies and Looney Tunes? Heaven forbid. Although, to be fair, I'm actually serious about Looney Tunes. That's some good stuff right there.
But I digress. The concept behind this seemingly Spartan method of raising children is this: Chinese parents, or any nationality of parent that uses this parenting methodology, such as Koreans, Japanese, Ghanians, etc., believe that their children inherently have the capability of doing anything they want; they just have to be pushed hard enough. Childrens' minds are immature; they are incapable of making wise decisions and therefore must have an experienced mind decide everything for the well-being of their futures. Not only can that experienced mind decide everything for their child(ren), it can also resort to any means to make that future happen. "Any means" may include the burning of stuffed animals, the labeling of children as garbage, the denial of food, and the lack of pity.
Child abuse? No, try cultural differences. Compare this methodology to the Western parenting style: Every child is special in their own way, even if they are absolutely talentless. Surely said talentless child must be compassionate, creative, loyal? If such a child exists, there's no need to force the impossible on him (*coughHarvardcough*). Why not stick to the wholly simple, like making bead necklaces and or being content with failing grades?
You see the contrast. There's only one thing I can say about it: It's not pretty. Allow me to share a few examples of Asian-American parenting.
A friend said that when she was young and still learning piano, her mother forced her to practice over 3 hours a day or risk having her stuffed animals thrown away.
Another mother would yell and even throw things at the sight of a B+. A-'s would illicit scowls and bad tempers.
Extra credit is NOT an option, it's a requirement- according to parent #3.
Another mother is forcing a friend of mine to apply to 10 colleges, all prestigious. (Harvard and Princeton were definitely on the list.)
Finally - and this may not relate to me personally, but it's funny - I read online somewhere that a Chinese immigrant parent named her son Harvard in hopes that he would get in. (Did he get in? The world shall never know.)
Now personally, my parents are not nearly this strict. True, I have no cell phone, am not allowed to date until I get married (icwudt), or do anything overtly fun, but at least I didn't have to practice my violin 3 hours a day. Now that. That would've been horrible.
I really like how Amy Chua depicts herself in the novel. I finally get to see it from a parents' perspective: the frustration, the desperate hope that her offspring will make something of themselves, and the amount of time devoted to furthering her children's "careers." But is this all worth it, I wonder. The risk of resentful grown-up children that don't visit during Christmas is too great for my liking; I will not raise my kids the Asian way. (But then again, Amy Chua says that research indicates that most children are grateful to their parents. Wrap your heads around that, anons.)
Contrarily, though, some friends and I, perhaps jokingly (and perhaps not) have determined that our children shall start learning three languages, two instruments, one sport, and advanced academic courses with outside tutoring by the time they're 8. Perhaps all this has been inbred into us by strict parents. Only time will tell if we all bring forth precocious child prodigies.
First, a bit about the book. The epithet reads:
"This is a story about a mother, two daughters, and two dogs.
This was supposed to be a story of how Chinese parents are better at raising kids than Western ones.
But instead, it's about a bitter clash of cultures, a fleeting taste of glory, and how I was humbled by a thirteen-year-old."
This pretty much describes the book. I like how Amy Chua phrased "a fleeting taste of glory;" it sounds poetic (perhaps unintentionally) to me.
Within the Chua household, the two children, Sophia and Louisa (Lulu), were not allowed to do several things:
- attend a sleepover
- have a playdate
- be in a school play
- complain about not being in a school play
- watch TV or play computer games
- choose their own extracurricular activities
- get any grade less than an A
- not be the #1 student in every subject except gym and drama
- play any instrument besides the piano or violin
- not play the piano or violin
What does this sound like? Well, to some, it may sound like hell. Derive a child of the pleasures of childhood in the form of Teletubbies and Looney Tunes? Heaven forbid. Although, to be fair, I'm actually serious about Looney Tunes. That's some good stuff right there.
But I digress. The concept behind this seemingly Spartan method of raising children is this: Chinese parents, or any nationality of parent that uses this parenting methodology, such as Koreans, Japanese, Ghanians, etc., believe that their children inherently have the capability of doing anything they want; they just have to be pushed hard enough. Childrens' minds are immature; they are incapable of making wise decisions and therefore must have an experienced mind decide everything for the well-being of their futures. Not only can that experienced mind decide everything for their child(ren), it can also resort to any means to make that future happen. "Any means" may include the burning of stuffed animals, the labeling of children as garbage, the denial of food, and the lack of pity.
Child abuse? No, try cultural differences. Compare this methodology to the Western parenting style: Every child is special in their own way, even if they are absolutely talentless. Surely said talentless child must be compassionate, creative, loyal? If such a child exists, there's no need to force the impossible on him (*coughHarvardcough*). Why not stick to the wholly simple, like making bead necklaces and or being content with failing grades?
You see the contrast. There's only one thing I can say about it: It's not pretty. Allow me to share a few examples of Asian-American parenting.
A friend said that when she was young and still learning piano, her mother forced her to practice over 3 hours a day or risk having her stuffed animals thrown away.
Another mother would yell and even throw things at the sight of a B+. A-'s would illicit scowls and bad tempers.
Extra credit is NOT an option, it's a requirement- according to parent #3.
Another mother is forcing a friend of mine to apply to 10 colleges, all prestigious. (Harvard and Princeton were definitely on the list.)
Finally - and this may not relate to me personally, but it's funny - I read online somewhere that a Chinese immigrant parent named her son Harvard in hopes that he would get in. (Did he get in? The world shall never know.)
Now personally, my parents are not nearly this strict. True, I have no cell phone, am not allowed to date until I get married (icwudt), or do anything overtly fun, but at least I didn't have to practice my violin 3 hours a day. Now that. That would've been horrible.
I really like how Amy Chua depicts herself in the novel. I finally get to see it from a parents' perspective: the frustration, the desperate hope that her offspring will make something of themselves, and the amount of time devoted to furthering her children's "careers." But is this all worth it, I wonder. The risk of resentful grown-up children that don't visit during Christmas is too great for my liking; I will not raise my kids the Asian way. (But then again, Amy Chua says that research indicates that most children are grateful to their parents. Wrap your heads around that, anons.)
Contrarily, though, some friends and I, perhaps jokingly (and perhaps not) have determined that our children shall start learning three languages, two instruments, one sport, and advanced academic courses with outside tutoring by the time they're 8. Perhaps all this has been inbred into us by strict parents. Only time will tell if we all bring forth precocious child prodigies.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Currently (Week the Third)
Books I'm reading:
American Shaolin by Matthew Polly
This week: 138 pages
Last week: 534 pages
This semester: 1078 pages
Sentences of the week:
1. "For some reason, the Chinese are not very fond of eggs. 'Stupid egg,' 'bad egg,' and worst of all, 'turtle's egg' are common insults." -American Shaolin
2. "Life is a one-shot deal." -Same book
3. "What struck me the most was not the devotion of the monks, which was evident, but rather an overwhelming feeling of alienation. Standing in that room, I felt as alone as I'd ever felt, a stranger in a strange land. Suddenly, I realized how desperately far away from home I was. It took my breath away, and I had to fight an instinct to flee the room." -Same book
I've definitely heard of stupid egg and bad egg as insults as stated in the first quote, but never have I heard of turtle's egg. And believe me, I have heard all of these insults while I attended first grade in China: someone who didn't do well on a test would be labeled a stupid egg while we would label unsavory characters in cartoons bad eggs. I can definitely relate to this quote.
As for the second quote, life is definitely a one-shot deal. That's why I don't get the people who contemplate suicide or murder. Why would someone extinguish his own or someone else's life when that life is all each person has? This world lives in the moment, but does not pause to consider the gravity of its decisions.
Third quote: I definitely felt this way for a while after I immigrated to America. All my friends and family members were back in China, and although there were Chinese people in my grade school back then, I couldn't relate to them because they were more Americanized than me. Eventually, I grew to accomodate American life, but I've never forgotten that feeling of loneliness.
American Shaolin by Matthew Polly
This week: 138 pages
Last week: 534 pages
This semester: 1078 pages
Sentences of the week:
1. "For some reason, the Chinese are not very fond of eggs. 'Stupid egg,' 'bad egg,' and worst of all, 'turtle's egg' are common insults." -American Shaolin
2. "Life is a one-shot deal." -Same book
3. "What struck me the most was not the devotion of the monks, which was evident, but rather an overwhelming feeling of alienation. Standing in that room, I felt as alone as I'd ever felt, a stranger in a strange land. Suddenly, I realized how desperately far away from home I was. It took my breath away, and I had to fight an instinct to flee the room." -Same book
I've definitely heard of stupid egg and bad egg as insults as stated in the first quote, but never have I heard of turtle's egg. And believe me, I have heard all of these insults while I attended first grade in China: someone who didn't do well on a test would be labeled a stupid egg while we would label unsavory characters in cartoons bad eggs. I can definitely relate to this quote.
As for the second quote, life is definitely a one-shot deal. That's why I don't get the people who contemplate suicide or murder. Why would someone extinguish his own or someone else's life when that life is all each person has? This world lives in the moment, but does not pause to consider the gravity of its decisions.
Third quote: I definitely felt this way for a while after I immigrated to America. All my friends and family members were back in China, and although there were Chinese people in my grade school back then, I couldn't relate to them because they were more Americanized than me. Eventually, I grew to accomodate American life, but I've never forgotten that feeling of loneliness.
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