Last Goal (very last scene)

David walked automatically toward the huge window. He felt the cold window catch and grasped it. His hands were slightly shaking. When he opened the window a cool breeze waved towards his face. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and savored the fresh air. Some minutes ago, he had eavesdropped on his parents’ talk with the doctors. He had heard everything that he needed to know. His first reaction was to panic. He walked to and fro in his room and could not keep a clear head. He thought of everything but nothing specific. He felt as if he would suffocate in a room full of air. There was no other way as to calm down. He had to order his thoughts and do something, because his parents would soon come back to his room. Then, he had made that decision and now he was standing at the open window. He looked down and noticed that he had to be in the forth or fifth floor. He was not sure. The only thing he knew was that it was a long way down there. He thanked God that he was not afraid of heights. He was wondering whether he would feel the bounce and if so how much it would hurt until it is over. It was ridiculous. Yesterday, everything was perfect. How can one day change everything? He thought of his last soccer game and how he made three goals. He had never thought that this game might be his last one. Now, his life was a mess. He wished that he had not to do the last step but that it was over already. He opened his eyes and stepped on the window sill. Suddenly, he felt strangely brave. Standing on the window sill was standing on the edge of life and death. He felt powerful. Only he decided what will happen next. If he is going to die soon then it is because he wanted it and not because metastases would kill him slowly. All his weight lasted on his feet. He stepped a little forward so that his toes were in the air. He seesawed to and fro and could not decide what to do next. Jump! He moved forward but hesitated. Not yet. He was not ready yet. But he knew the longer he will wait the more insecure he will become. What would his parents think of him? Will they regard him as a hero or a covert? He wanted to stay in his parents’ memory as the boy he was until yesterday. He was wondering if he should leave them a note and explain himself. But if he wrote something he would not have been able to do anymore what he was about to do. Besides, there was not time for that. They could come back into his room any minute. He felt his pulse rising and he could hear his heart beat. His blood drummed in his veins. He heard somebody open his room door and turned around. He looked into the scarred eyes of a young nurse. He did not want to be a burden to his parents. He knew his mom could not stand seeing him dying slowly. He felt helpless. He panicked. He jumped.

When he bounced on the ground and heard his bones smash. He was not dead yet as he hoped he would be. The fall was not as long as he expected. He could not move and he felt that horrible pain in his chest. A rip had drilled into his lungs. He had difficulties breathing. He did not know how hurtful it was to die. He could not think of anything but his pain. From a distance he heard somebody screaming and recognized his mother’s voice. He felt so sorry for her and his dad. But he just wanted to protect him. Before he closed his eyes he was hoping they will forgive him.

Response on “Burning” by Ashley Thompson (VLP)

I like this short story very much since it allows the reader to get an insight into the mind of a person who is mentally ill.

The main character Gerry feels to be on some kind of secret mission finding the burn he permanently smells. Looking for the burn is his “new purpose in life”. He’s checking everywhere. He “started at my bed […] Then under the bed, the floor, the walls, the closets, the outlets”, but cannot find any fire.

The author puts the reader in the Gerry’s position and lets us see and feel what Gerry sees and feel. Gerry is mentally ill. Obviously, he has perception disorders, since he thinks that people cannot see him when he does not see them. He hides under his bed sheets and believes his sister cannot see him. Even when she asks him to get out from under his covers he still thinks she “wondered if I was really under there”. He has totally lost his sense for reality.

At the end of the story we learn that his brother Tony makes him go to the “Sunshine Mental Health Hospital”. The name of this institution is ridiculous alone. Then, Gerry talks to the doctor and tells him about the burn. He insists that he’s fine, but “I don’t think your hospital is”. However, he has vowed “to be quiet about my mission” and pretended to understand what the doctor is saying. But instead, he plans to “get back to the burn later”.

Scene Two of "Last Goal"

This week I want to make up for some blog entries that were due in October. In October, I had little time to keep up with my posts, because I travelled a lot. Since, I’m here for this semester only I wanted to see as much of South Dakota as possible.

***

Until today, David never thought something bad could happen to him. Actually, he felt as healthy as somebody can feel except his nervousness, of course. He tried to recall what had happened a couple of hours ago. However, he still could not believe it.

He had headed for school since he was late again. Suddenly, he felt weird and a little dizzy and his legs became heavy. He fell. He was unconscious before he hit the ground. A concerned woman stopped by and called the ambulance. He was brought to the ER and they run some tests. When he woke up, he found himself in a hospital room. His body was aching. It was the same pain that he had been feeling for a couple of weeks only stronger. At this point he was not concerned yet, since a nurse told him he had a circulatory collapse and that he needs to stay for some more tests. He expected his parents coming soon. He got out of the bed and walked to the window. It was a very beautiful day. There was no cloud in the sky and it was very warm for that time of the year. Actually, he felt pity for all his classmates who had to take their finals today. He heard someone opening his room door and turned around. It was his mom and his dad. He was so happy to see them. But wait! His mom looked different today. She was very pale and had glossy eyes. His dad had this type of wrinkles on his forehead that did not mean anything good. When they saw him, they tried to smile. But both their smiles looked rather constraint than real. And his mother’s eyes told him she did not feel like smiling at all. Now the most creepy moment was reached and his mood changed rapidly.
His parents did not need to say anything. He already knew that something was wrong. His mother then said something to him what was even more scarry than her reddish puffy eyes. She told David that he better sat down because they had to talk to him…

Last Goal

This week’s creative blog entry is the first scene of one of my short story I’m working on right now.


David was very nervous. As nervous as he had never been before. And he was anxious, too. Normally, he was the easy-going guy everybody wants to be. His friends liked him pretty much. And he had tons of friends. There was no party without him, in fact, inviting him guaranteed a successful party. Everybody liked his humorous manner. David loved his life. He seemed to have everything his classmates dreamt of: He had excellent grades, was the best soccer player of his school so that he usually got picked first, and even worse he had too many female friends. His parents were not rich, but they always had money left for him if he needed some.

But something has changed. Today, he was wondering how much luck a single person deserves. Are there any rules for luck and bad luck? He thought of one of his best friends Jimmy who had lost his father two years ago. Or Kathryn, who was still suffering from an accident she had last winter. David, Kathryn and some other guys went skiing. It was supposed to be the best holiday ever. The second day they decided throwing a party and getting some beer. Actually, David was supposed to go. But he got a phone call from his girlfriend and so Kathryn went. A few minutes later the police rang on their apartment door telling them that Kathryn had been hit by a drunken car driver. Frightened, they went to the hospital looking after her. The doctors said that she had luck since it could be worse. Luck? Yes, of course, was she lucky. She was hit by a car and not by a truck. And she was lucky that the car driver stopped even though he was drunk and that he called the police and that he did not leave her alone. However, she broke her hip and has still problems walking. That night, the real lucky person was David, since he got that phone call. And he knew it…

Response on “The Underdog“ by Sean Johnston

In my opinion, the short story “The Underdog“ by Sean Johnston was on the one hand very confusing and on the other hand very interesting in terms of how it describes the violent relationships of the other characters toward the Underdog.

Generally, the story offered very little information about the time it is set in or what war the speaker was telling about. Also, I missed more detailed information about the Underdog himself such as what exactly makes him being the Underdog and how did he slip into this role? To me, the text leaves out too many details what makes it rather hard to approach its content.

However, I liked the way the text represented the relationships between the other characters toward the Underdog. It seemed to me that violence plays a big role in this story. It was rather unsettling to read that two characters of the story, the speaker and the preacher’s wife, were tempted to hurt the Underdog physically. Also, the text mentions that the Underdog suffers from several wounds that symbolize physical violence as well. Besides physical violence, the story displays emotional violence, too. So, I think the worst thing for the Underdog is not being injured physically but emotionally. He obviously suffers not as much from “his missing ear” but from being constantly pitied even by his own children.

To sum up, to me the story of the Underdog strikes through its display of different types of violence human beings can suffer from. However, it leaves out too much crucial information which is necessary for the better understanding of the text.

Response on "This House" by Sean Johnston

The short story “This House” written by Sean Johnston is about the troublesome relationship between a mother and her husband (or is it her son? I’m not sure about that). The mother seems to be very controlling and religious and her husband on the other hand sees her as an enemy rather than a caring wife. So when he is actually dead, he comes back as some sort of ghost and watches her. It seems that he enjoys not being criticized any longer by the mother because he says: “You may be thin air, fine, but she doesn’t even hear the sound of glass when you almost drop the bottle pouring.” This passage also presents the main problem between these two characters, namely, his alcohol abuse.

The wife on the other hand seems to be very religious. This becomes very obvious in the following text passage:

“Some day, everything will change, she said, and those that keep their mouths shut will babble with such fierce power the ones that couldn’t shut up will have no choice. They that are fattened and gorged on money from blood will be sickened while the starved finally swallow their own pure hearts and grow to astounding heights. And the blind will see.” This strongly reminds me of the Bible and Matthew’s book which states that "So the last shall be first, and the first last."

In comparison to “The Underdog”, this story is too unrealistic for my taste. The story would make perfect sense if the husband would not appear to be a ghost at the end.

Who Are You? (Part 2)

I try to look cheerful while tears are running down my cheeks. I don’t know why I’m always reacting like this. I should have known better. Really, I should. “Could you please sit down, Mommy? It’s your favorite soup, you know. I cooked it myself. I know, it’s not so good as yours, but I tried my best. Try something of it and tell me if you like it. Okay, you don’t know where to sit down? There is the chair, see? ” When I look at you I can’t hold my tears. I hope you don’t notice it. “After all these years I still can’t accept what has happened. Why you? Why me? Do you know why? No?”
Can she see me? I mean can she really see me? There she sits. She looks as if collapsed back upon herself in a world of strangers. Strangers… “How often was I annoyed about you, Mommy, but only because I didn’t see what you saw. But how could I? You looked as ever in your fancy dress. I didn’t realize you were changing until it was too late. It took very long to understand. You’re now in a foreign country where you are all on your own. You don’t know anybody and you don’t understand their language. Everything is alien. People are talking to you but you wouldn’t understand a word. You even can’t understand what the people around you are doing. It seems all very strange- like strange customs you’ve never seen before. And the worst of all is that you’re constantly meeting unknown people who are talking to you and pretend knowing you for ages. Only ever know and then you would smile at them and pretend to know them, too…

Response on "Consider the Lobster" by David Foster Wallace

This article is very well-written, originally, partly exhilarating and thought-provoking at the same time. In a first part, Wallace is examining one of the biggest sea food festivals of the United States, the Maine Lobster Festival. He makes cynical comments about people’s behaviour during such festivals. However, the article continuously becomes more serious.

Wallace starts his determined inquiry into the in ethics of boiling lobsters alive by giving some background information about the lobster itself and how we usually don’t see him- as a insect living in the ocean. Later he is discussing how lobsters are cooked which was very unsettling to me. Of course did I know that lobsters are boiled alive, but the way he describes how these animals suffer from being boiled does not miss the effect and made me feel uncomfortable. He writes:

“However stuporous the lobster is from the trip home, for instance, it tends to come alarmingly to life when placed in boiling water. If you’re tilting it from a container into the steaming kettle, the lobster will sometimes try to cling to the container’s sides or even to hook its claws over the kettle’s rim like a person trying to keep from going over the edge of a roof. And worse is when the lobster fully immersed. Even if you cover the kettle and turn away, you can usually hear the cover rattling and clanking as the lobster tries to push it off… The lobster, in other words, behaves very much as you and I would behave if we were plunged into boiling water (with the obvious exception of screaming).”

So, Wallace intends to offer a very graphic picture of how the lobster suffers when boiled and intensifies our feelings by stating that we would behave the same way in case somebody places us into boiling water. Finally, he asks the reader if it is possible that “future generations will regard our own present agribusiness and eating practices in much the same way we now view Nero’s entertainments or Aztec sacrifices?” Maybe this comparison far-fetched, however, we should consider how we deal with animals more often.

Response on “Other Math” by David Foster Wallace

This short story was very odd and unsettling. It is a story about a Joseph who has fallen in love with his grandfather and tells him so. Reading the short story’s title I did not expect is to deal with that kind of topic.

Letting declare the grandson’s love for his grandfather seems to be normal at first. Of course, do grandsons love their grandfather! But Reading further, the story becomes very odd since Joseph tries to explain to his grandfather that he really loves him

Generally, the author is playing games with the audience since he destroys anything we would expect to be normal. He adds weird details that do not really fit into an every-day conversation with a little boy, for instance, he is telling about somebody who has fallen in love with a “cadaver” and finally put him away. Also, the grandmother does not act like a we would expect from a grandmother by telling Joseph “Your Gram pa's h and w as a dead thing, attach ed to h is wrist by the same force that flung everything toward him, dead and brown, a flat, square conveyor of chill, an extension I never recognized and certainly never held.”

Finally, the oddest thing of the story is the way the speaker indirectly describes how the boy looks at the grandpa in a rather sexually manner. So he lets the grandpa refer to how the Joseph looks at him which makes the story very unsettling: “Don't say anything, Grampa. Just sit. Just like that. That's perfect.” or “Do an old man a favor and don't stare like that, son. All in all, it’s interesting how the author plays with our expectations of how society should look like.

Who Are You?

The creative part for this week’s and next week’s blog is an excerpt of one of my short stories. The following excerpt is scene one:


“Hey Mommy! How was your day?” Puzzled eyes are starring at me. Today, it’s one of these bad days. Again, I wished I could turn back the time and pretend I was living in 1975. It was a cheesy world for a little girl. It’s amazing how carefree kids can be. I remember our holidays at the coast. We used to go every summer on vacation. It was always the same place and the same people. We liked it though. “Do you remember the day, when I and Jimmy Wallace got into this fistfight? I can’t even remember how it happened. Can you? No? Anyways, when I came home you got mad at me. ’Not again’, did you say. And then I would tell you what had happened and you would grab my hand we would go to Jimmy’s parents in order to talk to them. You always seemed to be so strong and dominant. You were as firm as a rock. Can you imagine how often I wished to be like you? No? Why didn’t I tell you before? Maybe, you would have seen me with different eyes. Anyways, how was you day again? Could you please sit down? I’ve brought some lunch. I hope you like it. I mean you used to like it. Do you know what this is? No?” “Please, Mommy, don’t go to the phone and call 911. It’s not necessary. You know that, don’t you? It’s me, your daughter. What do you mean you have no daughter? Of course, you have. Look at me! I said look at me, please. Don’t you see how similar we look? No? My grandma always told me how similar we look. Remember? No?” I go toward you and try to embrace you. You seem to be as less affected as anybody could be… (to be continued)

Response to Good People by David Foster Wallace

Although the short story is very similar, even too similar to my taste, to Ernest Hemingway’s story entitled Hills like White Elephants, Good People written by David Foster Wallace is well done. It is amazing how the author gives the reader an insight in the main character’s life. We learn that the couple is facing some sort of problem and all indicates that the girl got pregnant and they both have decided to go to a doctor and have the baby aborted. Actually, the text does not reveal if it really is about an abortion. So the author kind of plays with the reader’s expectations and finally, lets him in the dark.

Moreover, the text strikes with many stylistic devices that makes the story more vivid. For instance, the speaker point’s at the girl’s cleanliness several times which seemed to be rather unusual to describe a person.

The girl wore a thin old checked cotton shirt with pearl-colored snaps with the long sleeves down and always smelled very good and clean, like someone you could trust and care about even if you weren’t in love.

Sheri’s hair was colored an almost corn blond, very clean, the skin through her central part pink in the sunlight

Describing how clean she is seems to indicate her pureness although she is pregnant.

All in all this short story is a very interesting one by not telling the reader concretely what really has happened to the young couple but by implying so much action.

Response on The Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac

Honestly, I am not sure yet whether I like this excerpt or whether not. This is may be because there is so less action in this piece of literature that helps me forming an opinion. This excerpt tells about a character who mentions his favourite place which is under the eucalyptus trees and his relationship to nature and how he perceives especially the eucalyptus trees and some animals.

The first odd thing about the character is how he discovers human traits in the eucalyptus trees:

“I began to notice that the uppermost twigs and leaves were lyrical happy dancers glad that they had been apportioned the top, with all that rumbling experience of the whole tree swaying beneath them making their dance … I noticed how the leaves almost looked human the way they bowed and then leaped up and then swayed lyrically side to side. It was a crazy vision in my mind but beautiful.”

Then he continues describing a “hummingbird, a beautiful little blue hummingbird no bigger than a dragonfly, kept making a whistling jet dive at me, definitely saying hello to me, every day, usually in the morning”.

This seems to create a very harmonic- even too harmonic- picture of the scene. But then he continues to say that he was “afraid he would drive right into my head with his long beaker like a hatpin”.

All in all it is interesting how the speaker creates a certain distance by on the one hand describing the romantic landscape picture and on the other hand perceiving a little hummingbird as a threat.

Creative Entry

In the following entry I tried to create some examples of irony based on last Friday’s session:

The current safety certificate behind the pane of plexiglass hanging incliningly above the seats impends to fell off today rather than yesterday due to a single rusty screw.

She walked on the path watching nature’s beauty, for instance, the little reddish squirrel running across the lawn before she went back to her room and killed a little spider rappeling from the ceiling with insect spray.

Response on Chapter 8

Chapter eight deals with the point of view in literature as well as with the authorial distance and its limitations in terms of liability of the narrator. It also includes aspects of irony which I found very interesting and challenging.

In respect to the liability I would like to respond on the short story entitled Story by Lydia Davis since this story shows in how far psychic distance can influence the reader’s thinking of the story.

Story is about a woman who has an affair with a man who obviously dates his ex- girlfriend. The way the author describes the character’s inner state and thoughts makes the readyer feel sympathy for the narrator. At the end of the story the first person narrator scrutinizes her boyfriends explanations of what had happened that particular night why his ex-girlfriend would be at his place. I think it is really realistic how the narrator measures all possibilties that would explain why the ex-girlfriend would be at his place:

“But what is the truth? Could he and she both really have come back in that short interval between my last phone call and my arrival at his place? Or is the truth really that during his call to me she waited outside or in garage or in her car and that he then brought her in again …”

Finally, the narrator becomes aware that her boyfriend that she cannot believe him but pretends to do so since she is so attached to him and does not want to lose him.

Response on James Joyce’s Araby

Honestly I had did some research on the internet what the term epiphany means since I have not heard of it before. I have found that epiphany is “a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience” (http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/epiphany).

All in all, this short story is about a boy who lives in a very poor neighbothood in Dublin. He falls in love with his friend’s sister and wants to buy her a present at the Araby market. But he arrives very late so that he recognized that most of the stalls are already closed. He is very disappointed of the baazar and went home.

Reading the story it appears to me that all conflict the narrator struggles with occurs inside his mind. At the the end of the story the nnarrotor transforms from an idealistic boy to an adolescents who does not see things like he did before but in a more realistic and rather disappointed manner: “Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned with anguish and anger.”
Finally, I think that using the technique of epiphany in literature makes stories appear to be very close to real life. I have experienced some kind of epiphany myself. I thought I would be friends with somebody and than after an insignificant incident I suddenly realized that he was not a friend at all.

Short Story Draft: DON'T ASK!

Anne looked at the ceiling watching the dull light bulbs. One of them was flickering like in a horror movie. Her situation was horrible, too. She has just eaten a dish which contained peanuts. She was allergic of peanuts. Luckily, the waiter called the ambulance quickly and she was brought to the nearest hospital. The doctors told her she had to stay there for some days. She was put in a three bed room and she became the bed in the middle. How she wished to have one of the other beds. But they were already occupied by two young women. The one on the left side was sleeping and the woman on the right was starring at the window. Anne wanted to start a conversation. She asked the woman on the right how she was doing? That is always a good question… The other woman turned to Anne and looked very thoughtfully. Her name was Katie but she wouldn’t tell Anne. She hated meaningless conversations. Maybe she could have told Anne that she became pregnant from an alcoholic when she was sixteen. Or that when she had her baby she struggled from financial problems since her fiancé had left her. Or that she saw no other chance to become a prostitute. Maybe she could have told Anne that her pander maltreated her when she resisted having sex with a client who had strangled her some time ago. Or she could have mentioned that she started drinking and doing drugs in order to bear her miserable life. And that her six years old daughter was hit by a car three days ago and died on the way to the hospital while she had another client. Maybe she could have told that she tried to commit suicide since she could not live without her daughter. Or that, unfortunately, somebody had found her in time… But the only thing she said was “I’m good” while turning back to the window…

Response On Chapter 7

Basically, chapter seven deals with the point of view in fiction. It distinguishes between three distinct speakers a story can be told of: the third person speaker, the second person speaker, and the first person speaker. Moreover, it gives an overview on omniscience and whom a particular speaker addresses.

I like the short story entitled Orientation by Daniel Orozco and will respond of this piece of literature. In this story an office worker introduces someone new to his new job. During the whole story, the new employee listens to his colleague. He just asks one question but his dialogue is not included- only indicated by the story teller: “What do I mean? I’m glad you asked that.”

The first part is about general background information about work and the office. But later the speaker includes more and more gossip about the other office workers, for instance, about a man who is thrilled by using the women’s bathroom. Another favourite topic of his is about other people’s relationships: “He has a secret crush on Gwendolyn Stich […]. But he hates Anika Bloom.”

The story becomes supernatural and some kind of surreal at the end. The speaker tells about a woman who can say when people die. Moreover, he mentions that one of his colleagues is a serial killer.

All in all, the speaker provides so much background information about the people working in this office which make it rather unlikely to recall all the details. Moreover, since only one character speaks (the speaker) the story is told from his point of view only. So maybe not everything he told is true.

Response On: The Valley of Spiders by H.G. Wells

This excerpt is about a group of men who are riding through weir territory. The master of this group is determined to find a young woman who ha just escaped him. The men are attacked by big white globes which appear to be spider webs and being filled with spiders. When one man saves his master’s life he falls off his horse and is committed to the spiders. Instead of helping him out of this situation, the master takes his horse and rides away. Another man cannot understand his master’s behavior and it comes to an argument in which the master kills his subject.

Actually I do not like this excerpt because of the story itself which seems to be very unrealistic to me. Moreover, it is very peripatetically written I think.

However, the excerpt strikes through its unusual and colourful description of the landscape as in the following passage:

“It spread remoter and remoter, with only a few clusters of serethorn bushes here and there, and the dim suggestions of some nowwaterless ravine, to break its desolation of yellow grass. Its purpledistances melted at last into the bluish slopes of the further hills--hills it might be of a greener kind--and above them invisiblysupported, and seeming indeed to hang in the blue, were the snowcladsummits of mountains that grew larger and bolder to the north-westwardas the sides of the valley drew together. And westward the valleyopened until a distant darkness under the sky told where the forestsbegan.”

All in all, this excerpt has not convinced me and I will probably not read the whole book.

Creative Work: Short Story Based on the Exercise on Page 46

Ariadne had a bad dream. When she woke up she felt very uncomfortable. She tried to remember what the dream was about. But she had no clue. She couldn’t remember the last time she did not wake up tired and cross. She decided to get up even though her alarm clock had not rung yet. She sat down on her round wooden table in the dining room and had breakfast. “Are five rooms not too many for one person alone?” her fellow student Angela asked her once. She denied. “I don’t think so. Anyway, I wouldn’t know where to put my stuff if I only had one room, you know”. There is her beautiful kitchen. Actually, she did not want it. This was not because it did cost a fortune but she didn’t like the color. But her mother insisted on this kitchen since it looked like the kitchen of her friend’s daughter and even more precious. Next to the kitchen there is the bathroom which was redecorated last month. Most people like white, shiny flagstones. Her mother does like white. But to her they looked cold and less comfy. And there was the living-room with the dining table and too much chairs around it. Her mother always said one has to be prepared for guests. Actually, she once used only two of them when her friend Angela stopped by her place. Next to the living-room there was her bedroom with her big bed. It used to stand in the center of the room. After a few nights she decided to move it to the right side of the room. But when her mother visited her she moved it to left side like she had seen a picture in a furniture magazine some days ago. Ariadne tried to imagine how it would be to live in an ordinary dorm sharing her room with a totally unknown person. Impossible for her. Not enough space for her favorite furniture and books. Where to put the piano? It needs a room for itself. Though she hated the piano lessons but a piano looks so nice, doesn’t it?
Ariadne looked at the huge grandfather clock standing next to her TV and realized that she would be late for classes again. Her teacher told her if she comes late again, he will inform her parents since she was under eighteen. So she headed for classes. Arriving at the college building she saw Leroy and became startled. He looked as ever, behaved as ever, and laughed as ever while talking to his friend Andrew. She knew that he’d probably not laughed at her but it was enough to make her feel insecure. She didn’t saw the last step. She fell badly on the steps and broke her ankle. Leroy rushed to her and offered to take notes for her. She answered that this wouldn’t be necessary. She would ask somebody else though knowing that shewon’t do this. She couldn’t stand Leroy. Not anymore. One teacher who observed everything called the ambulance. So she went to the hospital. One doctor told her that she had to stay there for at least one more day. But she didn’t care. She was too embarrassed about what happened. What would Leroy think of her? Why hadn’t he called yet? Jerk! Finally, her mother arrived. She brought a huge bouquet and put it to the cupboard next to Ariadne’s bed. She wanted to know how this accident happened. But without waiting for Ariadne to answer she told her daughter how excited she was to going to the Caribbean Islands next week…

Response on Edgar Allan Poe’s Short Story The Black Cat

This short story is a typical Poe short story and I like is very much although it is violent: It is a story about a man who is haunted by a mental disease which lets him maltreat his animals and even his wife. When his disease becomes worse he even hangs his favourite black cat named Pluto and kills his wife with an axe.

The first paragraph is very interesting since the teller knows that he is going to die soon and furthermore emphasizes that he is not insane. But reading further one can see his insanity. Only an insane person could behave like this. I mean who could mistreat animals? Or kill his wife?

I like the mysterious elements in the story, for instance, when the teller discovers “the figure of a gigantic cat” on the wall they day after he had killed his black cat and his house had burnt down. Or under which circumstances the police finds out about the murder of his wife.

All in all, this story strongly reminds me on two Steven King novels, namely The Shining in which an alcohol addicted writer moves with his family into a hotel in order to be a house keeper. But he becomes haunted by ghosts who let him try to kill his family with an axe. The other novel this short story reminds me of is Pet Semetary. When the second black cat appears after the teller had hung Pluto I thought is was the revived version of Pluto. So it would be interesting to find out if Steven King’s novels are based on this short story.