Hope Blooms Eternal

“To the Fringed Gentian”

William Cullen Bryant

THOU blossom bright with autumn dew,

And colored with the heaven’s own blue

That openest when the quiet light

Succeeds the keen and frosty night.

Though comest not when violets lean

O’er wandering brooks and springs unseen,

Or columbines, in purple dressed,

Nod o’er the ground-bird’s nest.

Thou waitest late and comest alone,

When woods are bare and birds are flown,

And frosts and shortening days portend

The aged year is at an end.

Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye

Look through its fringes to the sky,

Blue—blue—as if that sky let fall

A flower from its cerulean wall.

I would that thus, when I shall see

The hour of death draw near to me,

Hope, blossoming within my heart,

May look to heaven as I depart.

William Cullen Bryant, in his poem “To the Fringed Gentian” does more than simply describe a flower. He ties his description of the flower to a sense of death’s beauty, and the idea that though all things die, death is not necessarily the end. Bryant accomplishes this idea of beauty even in death through his use of imagery, rhymes, and repetition of ideas and words.

Bryant begins the poem by describing the Gentian as “colored with heaven’s own blue” (line 2). This immediately makes the reader think of the sky, and the reader knows this is a beautiful flower the persona is talking about. Blue is also a calm, quiet color as opposed to red or orange. This coloring serves to enhance the idea of beauty and tranquility that comes with the lines. He then tells us when the Fringed Gentian blooms:

Though comest not when violets lean…
Or columbines, in purple dressed,
nod o’er the ground-bird’s nest”
(lines 5-8)

Violets bloom in the spring and summer, and often are used to represent death, especially at funerals: due to their purple color. Columbines, also purple, may also represent this mourning. With these lines Bryant has separated the Fringed Gentian from mourning death, as a violet or purple color signifies. The Fringed Gentian, rather than blooming in spring or summer, as many flowers do, blooms instead

When woods are bare and birds are flown,
And frosts and shortening days portend
The aged year is at an end”
(lines 10-12)

This obviously refers to autumn and early winter. The Fringed Gentian blooms when all other plants die or lie dormant. Only when the world seems dead (during winter) does the Gentian bloom. Towards the end of the poem, Bryant again links the Fringed Gentian to heaven, as the “sky let fall / a flower from its cerulean wall” (lines 15-16). In the last four lines, Bryant fully reveals the culmination of the poem, and what it all means.

I would that thus, when I shall see
The hour of death draw near to me,
Hope, blossoming within my heart,
May look to heaven as I depart.
(lines 17-20)

The flower is the persona’s hope. In line fourteen Bryant describes the Gentian’s blossom looking “through its fringes to the sky,” just as the persona’s hope will “look to heaven” (line 20). As the Fringed Gentian blossoms when all other flowers die, so the persona Bryant has created wishes for hope to bloom as he dies.

Bryant used a fairly simple rhyme scheme in “To the Fringed Gentian.” The last word in each line rhymes with the last word of the following line, in sets of two. Dew, blue; then light, night; lean, unseen; and so on. While simple, this repetitive rhyming conveys a sense of beauty to the poem. Every two lines, the reader pauses for a moment as the ‘piece’ comes to an end. The rhyming draws the two lines together, and finishes them off as a small individual part of the poem. The overall effect of the rhyme scheme is a consistent, slow, and repetitive beat. In combination with the words used, this has a calming effect on the reader, which matches what Bryant is hoping to convey.

William Cullen Bryant repeats a few words and ideas throughout the poem in order to drive home the imagery of the piece. He uses the word blue three times, as well as cerulean: meaning a sky blue. While the Fringed Gentian is actually blue in color, this repetition constantly reminds the reader of the relation of the flower to the sky and heaven: two other words he repeated. Bryant also repeated the idea of the blossoming throughout the poem. This morphed from the flower blooming to hope blossoming like the flower. All this repetition drove home Bryant’s idea that death can be beautiful, and not something one should mourn. When all else fades away in death, there is still hope, and there is still heaven waiting in the blue sky.

In “To the Fringed Gentian,” William Cullen Bryant describes a flower, but he also describes hope eternal. The flower symbolizes the persona’s hope that when he dies, and everything falls away, heaven will still be there. Like the Fringed Gentian, hope will bloom even as his heart feels the chill of death. Death does not have to be something mourned, but rather a beautiful part of life.
To the Fringed Gentian

Odysseus as a Leader

The idea of leadership is a common one in The Odyssey. Throughout the story, people and gods are constantly questioning their leaders, and themselves as leaders. Characters are shown in their good and bad moments as leaders, and people have many different ideas and opinions about the characters as leaders, as well as what leaders should be. The best example of this conflict is Odysseus himself.

Many people consider Odysseus to be cocky and arrogant, which, to a certain extent, he is. The difference is that in ancient Greek culture you had to be arrogant, and confident to the point of overconfidence. You were measured by your athletic prowess, as Odysseus was in Phaeacia during book eight(196, lines 167-171, 183-189). A man was expected to be athletic, and was respected for that. In this instance Odysseus feels too weary and disheartened to compete, so he tells the men of his skills and of his times spent leading troops into battle. By outdoing them all with one throw of the discus, he was not being rash, he was buying respect. Then, also in book eight, when he brags that he could throw another disk as far, if not further, and of his other skills(198, lines 233-265), Odysseus is not trying to make people overly angry, he is only calling the men out, to test their strength against his own. What he did was akin to calling your friend a wimp for not arm wrestling you. He was not trying to be hurtful.

In class someone brought up the fact that there was no TV in ancient Greece, and that information didn’t travel quite as fast as it does today. A man could not rely on someone else to spread flattering stories about himself to other people. You had to take care of your own reputation. If you were a great warrior, and never told anyone about it, nobody would know except for the other people that were with you on your venture. True, they would tell some people, but there wouldn’t be too many that would be told. If, on the other hand, when you meet someone you introduce yourself as the son of so-and-so, and told them a bit about yourself, you make an impression. The other person could tell people that they had met you, and what family you came from, and what you had done, and if you had fulfilled their expectations of you. Every person that knew of you added to your reputation, and increased the number of people that would eventually find out exponentially. 

In ancient Greece honor and bravery in battle were two of the most important values. You were honor-bound to avenge any family member killed, look after friends, treat strangers well, and improve your family’s reputation. A great way to do that was to earn a reputation as a warrior. As I said before, information didn’t travel as fast as if does today, but it did travel. If you could say that you killed so-and-so, a great warrior, that made you even greater in the eyes of the listener.

I think that what people think is that since Odysseus is a leader, he shouldn’t brag, or be arrogant. In my opinion, it’s just the opposite. Because he is a leader, he should be arrogant, and overconfident. As a general, Odysseus had to be able to tell his men that he was confident that they would win the day, even if vastly outnumbered. He had to be able to remind any would-be usurpers and mutineers of how great a warrior he was, and how horrible it would be to face him one on one. A leader, at the time, kept power by force. If he was seen as weak, he would have a constant struggle to remain in power. If, however, he was seen as invincible, nobody would challenge him. I think that that is why Odysseus taunted the blinded Polyphemus, to maintain his hold on a crew that as we saw in book nine, was not above mutiny(213, lines 50-53). He had defeated a monster that had proven to be stronger than that of a great many men combined, also in book nine(219, lines 271-274). He also taunted Polyphemus to bolster the morale of his men. They had seen six men killed and eaten, and needed something to take their minds off it. Odysseus attempted to rouse them to a seething fury, but he went too far. He should have stopped when the men told him to, but nobody is perfect.

People say that leaders lead through actions, not words, but the two often go hand in hand, especially in ancient Greece. Odysseus defeated Polyphemus, and in bragging and taunting, he reminded his crew of it, and pressed them into understanding how enormous a task they had completed. This relates to what was said earlier about leaders depending on the way that other people perceived them. Odysseus was afraid, as the rest of his men were, and once he had defeated Polyphemus, he had to reassert himself. He had to convince the men that he had no fear, or that if he did, that he could overcome it, and still triumph.

Nobody is perfect. You hear that a lot, but you still don’t believe it. People think that Odysseus should be all-knowing and wise, but as he says to King Alcinous in book seven, “I’m nothing like the immortal gods who rule the skies,/ either in build or breeding. I’m just a mortal man”(186, lines 244-246). People make mistakes, and Odysseus’ taunting of Polyphemus was a big one, and he paid dearly for it. Odysseus does have an ego, who doesn’t, but for the most part, what he says when he brags is true. As he said, and later proved in Phaeacaia, he was a great athlete, and as he proved at Troy, he was a great warrior, tactician, and leader. Odysseus, for the most part, told the truth about himself when he was bragging, though he probably did exaggerate a bit, and perhaps stretched the truth a bit. Stories grow richer in the telling. 

People consider Odysseus to be something of a suck-up, based on his behavior towards Nausicaa in book six. He flatters her, and begs for compassion(174,  lines 190-199). Since he is a king, people think that he shouldn’t beg, that he should ask as an equal for help. The way that I see it is that Odysseus when Nausicaa first sees him is naked, dirty, unknown, and coming out of the bushes where he has spent the night. Not the standard idea of a king. If Odysseus had had a crew, armor, and other men beneath him, then he could have come to Nausicaa as a king, and merely asked for directions, where as reality placed him in a position where she had the higher rank. She was not obligated to help him, and so Odysseus knew that he would have to talk convincingly enough to make up for his appearance. Odysseus is not a suck-up, he is merely someone who knows when to ask for help, and how to ask. He was not being dishonest, most probably Nausicaa was beautiful, and would have made a fine wife for a man, as Odysseus said in book six(173, lines 164-177).

Odysseus is not conniving, dishonest, overly arrogant, too cocky, or a suck-up. Nor is he perfect. Odysseus is human, and a very astute one. He knows when to act different ways, but not dishonestly. For the most part he is as wise as a man can be, and wiser than most. But through it all Odysseus is still human. In Greek mythology, not even the gods are perfect. One cannot expect that of a man. People make mistakes, and Odysseus is no exception. The difference between cowards and heroes is how they deal with those mistakes. It would have been easy for Odysseus to give up on Calypso’s island, but he couldn’t. He had to keep going. Odysseus may not be a perfect leader, but he is staunch, honest, clever, and brave. That makes him a great leader. Odysseus’ only fault was in being human, and he paid for his mistakes more than anyone in history. 

Athena’s Transformation

I believe that Athena, over the course of The Odyssey, has grown tremendously as a god. The epic began with Athena being timid in the presence of other powerful gods, such as Poseidon, to taking a stand by revealing herself to be on Odysseus’ side of his conflict with Poseidon. She not only reveals herself to mortals, but also to Poseidon, knowing that there may be consequences for doing so. Athena becomes sure of herself, and confident in her powers, over the course of The Odyssey.

In the beginning books of The Odyssey, Athena stays hidden from Odysseus, specifically in book six, when she refuses to “appear to [Odysseus] undisguised. / She stood in awe of her Father’s brother, lord of the sea / who still seethed on…against / the great Odysseus”(178: 362-65). At this moment in time Athena is still somewhat afraid (as afraid as a god can be anyway) of her uncle Poseidon’s power, and refuses to openly defy his wishes, and help Odysseus. Athena will help Odysseus, as she does earlier in book five when she “countered [Poseidon] at once. /  The… winds she stopped right in their tracks, / commanding them all to hush…/ And the goddess beat the breakers flat in front of Odysseus”(164: 421-25), but not openly. Always will she disguise herself. This quote could be used to disprove my argument, except for the fact that Athena does nothing until after Poseidon had “lashed his team…/ gaining Aegae port where his famous palace stands”(164: 419-20). Athena lets Odysseus fend for himself in Poseidon’s storm, doing nothing to help Odysseus, until Poseidon leaves. Then she saves him. Basically what happens is Athena hides until after Poseidon leaves.

Towards the end of The Odyssey, in book twenty, Athena does reveal herself to support Odysseus:

’I am a goddess, look, the very one who / guards you in all your trials to the last. / I tell you this straight out: / even if fifty bands of mortal fighters / closed around us, / hot to kills us off in battle, / still could you drive away their herds and flocks.’ (411-12: 50-55)

In this dialogue, Athena promises not to let Odysseus die, and that she will do whatever is necessary to achieve that objective.

Athena fulfills her vow in book twenty-two when she “looms out of the rafter high above [the suitors], / [brandishing] her shield of thunder, terrifying the suitors out of their minds…”(448: 311-13). At this point Athena reveals herself fully to the suitors, and Odysseus, showing, once and for all, whose sided she is really on. True, Poseidon has given up on punishing Odysseus by this point, but he still doesn’t know which of the gods sustained Odysseus throughout his trial, though he probably suspects Athena. Athena doesn’t know that. All she knows is that Poseidon really didn’t want Odysseus get home, now he is home, she helped him, and has now shed her last disguise. For Athena, this is the point at which she cannot turn back. Before, she could deny that she helped Odysseus, but now she can’t. She is committed to Odysseus.

In book twenty-four, Athena also reveals herself, and not just to Odysseus and his companions, but also to many other people that could, possibly, end up praying to Poseidon to help them against both Odysseus and Athena. Athena says in a “piercing voice that stopped all fighters cold, / ‘Hold back, you men of Ithaca, back from brutal war!’ [And] terror blanched their faces, / they went limp with fear, weapons slipped from their hands…”(485: 583-87). Even though Athena is still in the form of Mentor, the power of her words and voice, coupled with the thunderbolt that strikes at her feet soon after, leaves little doubt in the minds of the kin of the suitors who the speaker really is, and there could not be a more obvious demonstration of the support that she and Zeus are giving to Odysseus(though the bolt is thrown to warn him, not so much as to intimidate the other mortals with him).

This moment could show that Athena still does feel a little hesitant about revealing herself to mortals, but there is a myth of Zeus revealing himself to a mortal, and they being destroyed because his power and brilliance are too much for a mortal soul to withstand. Athena staying in disguise even in the end, when there is little or no doubt as to who she really is, could really be a shield for the mortals around her. No one will ever know for sure.

I think that one of the main reasons Athena is able to grow and change so much is that she knows that Zeus, as well as most of the other gods, are on her side, and Odysseus’ side. This is evidenced in book one when Athena asks Zeus, “’why, Zeus, why so dead set against Odysseus?’”(79: 85). And Zeus replied, “’what nonsense you let slip through your teeth…./ No, it’s the Earth-Shaker, Poseidon, unappeased, / forever fuming against him…’”(79: 77-82). At this moment we see that Zeus really has no problem with Odysseus, and that only his respect and understanding for his brother keep him from just sending Odysseus home. Also in book one, Zeus tells Athena, “’Lord Poseidon, I trust, will let his anger go. / How can he stand his ground against the will / of all the gods at once––one god alone?’”(80: 93-95). In this conversation Zeus as much as says that if Poseidon wants to continue to punish Odysseus, he will be stopped, by choice or by force.

The fact that Zeus is Athena’s father is also a key point in her growth. Athena is somewhat protected, though she doesn’t really need it, from any harm that could come to her(from Poseidon or any other entity), by Zeus’ power. Athena knows that should anything happen that she can’t deal with, Zeus will help. Also, Poseidon is her uncle, which lends Athena a bit of security. What Athena doesn’t realize at this point is that she really doesn’t need protection. She herself is one of the most powerful gods(or goddess) on Mount Olympus. Should she need it, Athena is more than enough a defense for herslf.

To further illustrate Athena’s growth, I would like to use Telemachus’ journey to point out similarities between the two journeys, and discuss motives, and effects therein. I believe that doing so will make the points clearer, and help explain some of the things that happen.

In the beginning of The Odyssey, Athena knows that she wants to help Odysseus, but it takes Zeus telling her that it’s all right, and pointing her in the right direction before she will do anything. Even then, she is reluctant to exercise her power to help him, still unsure of what will happen when she does. Then, Athena reaches a point where she decides to make a stand, and reveal herself to Poseidon, and the enemies if Odysseus. At that point Athena really becomes more than she was before, because she gains the confidence to do what she thinks she should, without worrying about what might happen as a result. She knows that she can handle just about anything thrown her way.

This is related to Telemachus’ journey from first hating the suitors, but not doing anything about it, to, at Athena’s bidding, going on a quest to find information about Odysseus. At some point during his travels, Telemachus starts making decisions on his own(also as Athena does), as he does in book fifteen when he tells Pisistratus, “’don’t drive me past my vessel, drop me there. / Your father’s old, in love with hospitality; / I fear he’ll hold me, chafing in his palace–– / I must hurry home!’”(325: 222-25). At this point it is the smart choice, and not the easy choice that is chosen, just as Athena chooses the course of action that will solve Odysseus’ problem with the least bloodshed. She commands everyone to stop fighting, and gives them a peaceful solution to the problem. She could just kill all Odysseus’ enemies. That also would be a solution.

Telemachus, once home, makes as much of a stand against the suitors as he can, berating them and even, to a certain extent, taunting them. This echoes the point at which Athena reveals herself to Odysseus, and the families of the suitors. In both cases neither can turn back. They must face their fears, Athena’s being Poseidon, and Telemachus’ being the suitors. In both Athena’s and Telemachus’ stories all that is needed is a little kick out the door, so to speak. Once they get started, they are both able to start to figure things out on their own, and learn by that. This leads to their growth. Both Athena and Telemachus are set on a journey; they return triumphant, and also changed (for the better).

Athena undergoes a huge transformation during The Odyssey, from timid in the presence of elder gods, to realizing her power, and taking her place as one of the most powerful gods or goddesses of Mount Olympus. Athena “grows up” over the course of the epic, which for a goddess doesn’t mean so much physically, as it does mentally, and emotionally. Athena is able, at the end of the book, to stand up for what she believes is right, and know that everything will be all right.

The Role of Jim

At different times in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, the escaped slave Jim fulfills many different roles in Huck’s life as the story progresses. These roles include that of the inferior black or slave, father, equal, and friend or even brother. These different roles do not necessarily occur in any chronological order, but change based on both the time and the circumstances. These changes of role also serve to illustrate the character growth Huckleberry experiences.

At the beginning of the book, Huckleberry treats Jim basically as we would expect a boy to treat another boy whom he has known for a long time, and with whom he feels comfortable with. The key point being that Huck does not treat Jim like a man, with the accorded respect: he treats him as he would another his own age because he is a slave, and does not ‘deserve’ the respect of a white man. Tom Sawyer and Huck play a trick on Jim by moving his hat as he sleeps in chapter two without a second thought. This may be interpreted to mean that Tom and Huck see Jim as a plaything, but based on Tom and Huck’s history of tricks and assorted troublemaking, this event falls into the category of the kind of prank the two would pull on one of their unsuspecting friends. 

Another instance of Huck’s failure to accord Jim his deserved respect is in chapter fifteen, when Huck decides to trick Jim into thinking he dreamed of Huck being lost in the fog. At this time Huckleberry does not at all consider Jim’s feelings, and acts purely for his own entertainment. Again, Huck has not treated Jim as we would expect him to treat a man, but instead, has treated him worse than he probably would another boy. 

The outcome of this event, however, reveals the true friendship of Huck and Jim, and ends any inequality between the two. Of course this changes at the Phelps’, but that is in response to the influence of Tom Sawyer, not the relationship of Huck and Jim. Though it takes Huck “fifteen minutes before [he[ could work [himself] up to go and humble [himself] to a nigger,” he does. Huck acknowledges Jim’s feelings, and is truly repentant.

From this event we also see the emergence of Jim’s fatherly qualities. When he believes Huck lost, Jim’s “heart wuz mos’ broke becase [Huck] wuz los’, en [Jim] didn’ k’yer no mo’ what become er [himself].” Jim feels a great bond to Huck: one that extends past acquaintance and friend. These words would seem appropriate of a parent about their child, which is precisely the impression drawn from this event: Jim has become something of a foster-parent or father figure to Huckleberry. He will do all he can to protect Huck. This is first hinted at when in chapter nine he hides the identity of Pap’s body from Huck, and resurfaces later in chapter eighteen when Jim waits for Huck at the Grangerfords, rather than taking care of himself. This change in Jim’s purpose: from inferior or ‘boy’ to equal and father-figure also indicates Huck’s metamorphosis from one who looks out for himself to someone who allows another to look after him as well.

At different points we also see Jim treated as an equal, friend, or even brother. In chapters sixteen and thirty-one, when Huckleberry debates turning over Jim, he treats Jim as someone deserving of liberty, and as someone he holds in high enough regard to risk his own wellbeing for. Huck treats Jim as he would a peer in trouble: he does what he can (using his extensive story-telling skills) to deflect scrutiny and throw inquisitive people off the trail. Huck also listens to Jim’s advice on many occasions, and seems to take Jim’s judgments to heart with regards to his actions: he vows never to treat Jim as badly as he did in the fog, and, we can assume, learns a great deal about his own beliefs of slavery and the inequalities of his society.

In an almost perverse way, Jim’s idea of stealing his children out of slavery in chapter sixteen is another indicator of equality between Huck and Jim. Huckleberry is ashamed of Jim for speaking of stealing: something we would expect him to think of a peer, not a slave. He has become concerned with Jim’s morality and the righteousness of his choices. Though the subject is ironic: Jim wants to steal his own children out of slavery, to Huck Jim wants to steal someone’s property, which is wrong and thus concerns him.

In chapter thirty-one, when Huck decides to rescue Jim from the Phelps’, he decides to risk everything he has to help Jim. He puts Jim’s welfare above his own. During the extended escape plan, Huckleberry seems to regard Jim almost as a brother: he endeavors to do anything possible to free him, and protect him. He has decided to “go to hell” if that is the price to be paid for Jim’s freedom. Putting another’s freedom over the fate of your own soul is not a common occurrence, and would seem to be most likely the act of a family member towards his sibling or child. Huck throws to the winds any notion of the immorality of what he is doing (things that once bothered him greatly), because Jim is his brother, and they would do anything for each other.

However, while at the Phelps’, Huckleberry and Tom definitely take their time freeing Jim, though this is not a result of Huck’s indifference towards Jim or a relapse into the ‘plaything’ mentality. Rather, it is a relapse in Huck to his days of following Tom Sawyer’s lead. Huck does question Tom at different points during the fiasco, but largely does what Tom suggests simply because Tom is Tom. Jim’s wellbeing is never far from the front of Huck’s mind, but he allows the ‘cleverness’ of Tom to override his own sense of necessity and efficiency.

The relationship between Huckleberry Finn and Jim is one that is both simple and complicated: they are equals, but members of different social classes; they exhibit qualities of a father and son, as well as two brothers; and one can never be sure how they are going to interact: their relationships is almost constantly in flux. At different times in the story Huck and Jim’s relationship runs from acquaintance to family and everywhere in between. Without a doubt, by the time Jim is free and Huck decides to head “for the territory,” he and Jim are very close friends, and both have learned from the other throughout their time together.

Daisy: Symbol and Siren

In The Great Gatsby, the character Daisy Fay Buchanan serves as a symbol of wealth, as well as Gatsby’s dream in flesh. She is also the real-life equivalent of a Siren from Greek mythology. Daisy has many obvious characteristics of the wealthy, as well as less readily apparent clues. Like a Siren, Daisy has certain qualities that lure people in, and draw them towards her: to their doom. To Gatsby, she is both his dream and his doom.

Daisy is a symbol for wealth in a very real way: she is wealthy. She possesses ‘old wealth:’ the kind that is not earned by the current generation, but that allows them to become completely vacuous and self-centered. So out of touch is Daisy with the real world that she wonders aloud, “’What do people plan?’” (pg 11) and “’What’ll we do with ourselves…[for] the next thirty years?’” (pg. 118). She has no idea what people do, and her life has no direction. Her only purpose is to be rich, and to do that which will make her happy. 

Daisy’s world is an insubstantial and artificial one, but it is one full of wealth. She has a debut: an event for only the very wealthy upper class, is from a very wealthy family, and marries a very wealthy man. Gatsby was unable to marry her himself as a result of not possessing the required wealth. He “had no real right to touch her hand” (pg. 149) as a penniless soldier. To Nick, Daisy seems a beacon of wealth: “safe and proud above the hot struggles of the poor” (pg. 150). 

Daisy’s voice is a verbal reminder of the wealth she symbolizes. Her “voice is full of money” (pg. 120), and creates an image of her “high in a white palace…the golden girl” (pg. 120). Daisy seems to be wealth personified as a person. Her voice is money, her background is wealth, and her personality is the cold and hard comfort of coins. She possesses all the trappings of wealth, but has become as insubstantial as the paper signifying that wealth. 

To Gatsby, Daisy is more than just a symbol of wealth. To Gatsby, she is his dream incarnate. He dreamt of serving a “vast, vulgar, and meretricious beauty,” (pg. 98) and when he fell in love with Daisy his dreams were “wed…to her perishable breath…[and] she blossomed for him like a flower”(pg. 110-11). Daisy becomes Gatsby’s dreams incarnate. Gatsby too, dreamt of wealth (part of his scheme to be worthy of Daisy), and she was the symbol of what that wealth meant to him. Gatsby committed himself to Daisy, but he also committed himself “to the following of a grail” (pg. 149). The idea of Daisy as Gatsby’s dream was just that: an idea, a symbol. She was a grail to be sought after in the fulfillment of a dream, a symbol to always strive towards.

In Greek mythology, the Sirens were bird-women who lured sailors to their death with beautiful song. Upon an island surrounded by jagged cliffs and rocks, the Sirens sang their wondrous song: an irresistible melody that drew any who heard it. They were drawn to their deaths.  The Sirens are not always portrayed as beautiful women, and their song promised not gifts of the flesh or other such things, but knowledge instead. 

In The Great Gatsby, Daisy’s voice is that of a Siren. Like a Siren’s, her voice is one that “the ear follows up and down, as if each speech is an arrangement of notes that will never be played again” (pg. 9). Daisy’s voice is a song, and a “promise…[of] gay, exciting things hovering in the next hour” (pg. 9).  Daisy is able to “compel [people] forward breathlessly” (pg. 14) with her voice: she draws people towards her with irresistible force. With the sounds of her voice, not the words themselves, Daisy is able to attract people to her, and draw them into her spell.

Daisy also uses the things she says and does to enhance the spellbinding quality of her voice. She “murmur[s]…to make people lean toward her,” (pg. 9), and completely captivates Gatsby. In chapter seven, as the moment of Truth with Tom approaches, she continues to reinforce her hold over Gatsby through her casual remarks, and not-so-subtle displays of affection, and even begins to draw Nick into her spell with her “thrilling scorn” (pg. 131). 

Daisy uses the innate qualities of her voice, as well as the things she says and does, to cast a spell over those she wishes to control. In chapter one, Nick notices the breaking of this spell as soon as she stops talking (pg. 17). While listening to Daisy babbly nonsense, Nick fully believed and agreed with her, but once he regained his senses realized the “basic insincerity of what she had said” (pg. 17). Like Odysseus, Nick loses all individual and free thought while listening to the Siren, but regains his judgment once silence falls. Even Tom feels the effects of Daisy’s spell. It is broken when he deduces that Daisy loves Gatsby: he looks like a man struck dumb, and “recognize[s] her as someone he had known a long time ago” (pg. 119). The spell is broken, and he remembers her as she was before he fell into her trap of words.

Like the Sirens of Greek mythology, Daisy promises wonderful things with her voice, but her intentions are vastly different. In chapter seven, Nick realizes that she had “never intended doing anything at all” (pg. 132). She disregards all the plans she and Gatsby made, all the schemes and ideas with which to escape Tom, with seemingly little thought. With just a few words from Tom she turns against Gatsby with every word he utters. From that point onward, she returns more and more fully to Tom. She transforms from someone promising wonder and joy to Gatsby, to one causing only great pain: a Siren. Ultimately, this duplicity of intents creates circumstances leading to Gatsby’s death. He becomes another luckless sailor drowned in the poison of a beautiful voice.

Daisy Fay Buchanan serves to illustrate wealth in The Great Gatsby though who she is. She is a symbol of wealth because of her background, her life, and her very being. To Gatsby, she was more than just a symbol of wealth: for almost the entire book, and stretching back beyond the first page, she is his dream personified as a person. Everything he seeks in like is symbolized by her, and made real through her. To the reader looking in on the story, it is apparent that Daisy is a Siren: she lures in the unsuspecting and destroys them with her voice and actions.

“From a Birmingham Jail” - Martin Luther King, Jr.

According to Martin Luther King, Jr, a just law is one that is morally right, and one that “uplifts human personality.” A just law is a law that all people will follow, not just the minority, or the group without power. Even the powerful will be willing to obey a just law. A just law is “rooted in eternal and natural law.”

On the other hand, an unjust law is one that is not morally correct, and “degrades human personality.” An unjust law is one that one group of people forces upon another, but do not themselves follow. An unjust law is created when a group of people (in this case African Americans) have no part in. If a group is excluded to the creation of a law, it may be unjust. Even just laws may become unjust if they are used in an unjust manner.

According to Martin Luther King, Jr. people have the “moral responsibility to disobey just laws” and obey just laws. People must be willing to accept the consequences of their actions: when they break a law, just or unjust, they must “willingly accept the penalty.” People must never allow an injustice to stand, but instead seek to right the wrongs and alert others to the injustices around them. People must be willing to “go to jail for consciences’ sake,” and accept it for the sake of their cause. People should treat everyone else as their brother or sister, father or son. All people must work together to make a better society for everyone, not select groups.

Henry David Thoreau tells us that all people have the “right of revolution:” to rebel against a government that does not serve the needs of the people. People should rely not on the truth as the majority or commonly held beliefs define it, but instead search for the Truth within themselves. People, and society as a whole, should be ruled by conscience rather than majority rule. If everyone follows what they know to be True and right, then good things rather than bad will be done, and the community will be better off.

The Poisonwood Bible, or The termite-Eaten Bible

The Poisonwood Bible is a book of contrasting strengths and weaknesses. The strengths of this book are brilliant, but the weaknesses are almost painfully apparent in some cases. In at least one case, a weakness in the book becomes a flaw, which becomes a ‘bur in the side’ of the reader, or at least it was to me.

Nathan Price goes to Africa as a missionary not because he is a particularly giving man who feels it his responsibility to save people’s souls for their own good, but because of a “suspicion of his own cowardice…[and] how fiercely he felt the eye of God upon him” (197). Nathan, through his missionary work, is attempting to redeem himself in the eyes of God, not because of any true desire to help the Congolese. Orleanna and the girls are simply “washed up on a riptide of [his] confidence” (8), and follow him. Nathan is, to say the least, not a very good missionary. He fails to convert any of the local Kilangans, and towards the end of the book there is even a “vote for Jesus Christ…[as] God” (330), or not. When the votes are cast, and the results counted “Jesus Christ [loses], eleven to fifty-six” (334). Nathan also is described as abusive to his family, striking his wife and daughters, while preaching Jesus’ everlasting love. Each of Nathan’s daughters possesses a distinctly unique personality and voice, which lends different opinions and viewpoints to the book.

Ruth May, the youngest daughter, is bitten one morning by a Black Mamba snake, and dies almost instantly. This event leads to Orleanna and Adah leaving the Congo and returning to America, Rachel flying to South Africa to flit from one husband to another before inheriting a hotel from one, Leah staying in the Congo, and later moving to Angola with her husband Anatole (a Congolese man) and later having children, and the increasing insanity of Nathan, who is finally burned alive by the Congolese for insisting on taking “every child in the village down to the river and [baptizing] them” (486) after a recent accident involving the river caused the death of many children.

The greatest strength of the book is the development and growth of the characters throughout the story, mainly in reference to Rachel, Leah, and Adah. Another strength of this book is the ability Kingsolver has to bring events or passages to life. Kingsolver can translate a feeling, or an emotion from the mind or actions of a character into a very clear picture in the reader’s mind.

The best explanation for the growth of the different characters in The Poisonwood Bible is the passage of time itself: the book spans more than twenty-five years. During this time the Price girls mature both physically and mentally, and also change their viewpoints entirely on some subjects.

Leah, at the start of the book, describes herself as “a tomboy” (64) who “can’t see [herself] as anything but a missionary or a teacher or a farmer” (149). Towards the end of the book, Leah decides “[God] must think of [her] as a mother” (499). Leah makes the transition from a young girl who would rather “spend as much time as [she] can outdoors” (149) to a married mother who makes a living as best she can as a woman in Africa.

Leah also begins her story idolizing her father. She describes him as “tall as Goliath and pure of heart as David” (40), and decides a certain glare of the sun “gave him a fiendish look untrue to his nature’ (40). Leah looks at her father and sees a man who can do no wrong. She sees him as an extremely good person, and spends her days trying to be just like him. In sharp contrast, the night before Ruth May dies, Leah tells her sisters she is “going to go out there to help Nelson and [Nathan] can go straight to hell” (358). No longer does Leah look to her father for guidance in her life. Leah no longer cares what Nathan thinks of her actions, or respects him in any way. This displays a massive amount of growth within Leah’s character: a shift from blind faith and innocence of childhood to a more discerning and practical viewpoint. Leah, by the end of the book, has learned to look at her father’s actions and judge him as an adult, rather than as a child watching her father.

When Nathan dies and Leah is telling the story to her sisters, she becomes angry, not with the people who killed him, but at Nathan himself for being known for “turning himself into a crocodile and attacking children” (485). Nathan was killed because of a misunderstanding, but Leah blames him for “being belligerent about [being asked to leave the village]” (486). This shows how little Leah has come to care for her father through what she sees as despicable actions. Nathan was not in fact guilty for the deaths of any children, as the Congolese believed, but Leah nonetheless damns him for his pride and exonerates the Africans. Leah, who once liked “spending time with [her] father…much more than [she liked] doing anything else” (36) as a child, finally decides his murder was his own fault, and blames him for it instead of his killers.

Though some things changed about Leah, others stayed the same. Leah, on first arriving in the Congo, decides to “someday demonstrate to all of Africa how to grow crops!” (38). As an adult, Leah “[teaches] classes in nutrition, sanitation, and soybeans” (523). Some beliefs and opinions may change, but others never do. Leah decided as a young girl to help the African food crisis, and as an adult she puts the thought into action.

Her stay in Africa changes Adah, though unlike Leah she does not choose to remain there for the rest of her life. Adah begins life as a cripple, learns as an adult how to “walk without [her] slant” (492). She also loses her “ability to read in the old way” (492). Adah, though now physically whole, can never forget her old self, and feels as if she has lost something in the process. Adah, by being healed physically, has lost part of her intellectual self. In the Congo, her “two unmatched halves [added] up to more than one whole” (493), while “[in America] there was no good name for [her] gift, so it died without a proper ceremony” (493). The fact of Adah losing a part of herself as she gains another illustrates a very powerful idea: there is no gain without loss. In the Congo, the Prices lost Ruth May, but they gained knowledge and wisdom they otherwise wouldn’t have. Each Price girl, as well as Orleanna, carried away a great amount of experience and new outlooks on the world as a whole: at the price of Ruth May and their blissful innocence of many issues. Adah remembers her childhood, and the “energy [she] spent feeling betrayed” (532). She has moved beyond feeling betrayed, and sees the world as it is, rather than as she believes it to be, or should be. Adah, as did Leah, changed both physically and mentally.

Some things about Adah have stayed the same, however. She “write[s] poems at [her] kitchen table” (532) while she once found palindromes to have a “perfect, satisfying taste” (57). Adah also “still love[s] to read…[but] differently now that [she] is in [her] right mind” (532). She once “[read] a book front to back, [then] back to front” (57), and now still holds onto the memories of her old abilities. Adah has changed greatly mentally and physically, but each gain came with a price: originally her body for her mind, but now her mind for her body. Adah has gained and lost much in her growth from a young girl to a woman of much experience.

Rachel, in sharp contrast to her sisters, changes very little from the beginning to the end of the book. When the book starts, Rachel is “fifteen…and cares for naught but appearances” (15) and herself. Rachel is uniformly disliked by her sisters, and instead of attempting to change herself, she believes them to be the ones at fault. At age fifty, Rachel is “forever getting complements on [her] spotless complexion” (512), and continues to place herself at the center of her own universe. Throughout the entire book, Rachel is a survivalist: using anything she can to help herself. She marries men, then leaves them for others to enrich herself, and uses her ‘feminine charms’ as a bargaining chip to get her out of Kilanga village.

One way in which Rachel does change is in regard to her attitude towards staying in Africa or returning to America. When the Prices first arrive in the Congo, Rachel is “sore at [Nathan]…[for] having to be there in the first place” (49). Rachel thinks constantly about returning to America and leaving behind forever her time in Africa. Even at the end of the book, Rachel “think[s] about the life [she] missed in the good old U.S.A.” (512), and regrets never going back. However, “when push came to shove [she] was afraid” (513) to return to the U.S. She was afraid she wouldn’t fit in back home, and so never went back. This again illustrates her obsession with appearances: she stayed in a place she hated rather than go back to a place she may not fit in.

The second major strength in Kingsolver’s writing of The Poisonwood Bible lies in her amazing ability to bring a scene to life. My personal favorite is the hunt for food by setting fire to the brush in order to trap animals.

As the ring burned smaller we suddenly caught sight of its other side, the red-orange tongues and black ash closing in. The looming shapes of animals bunched up inside…not yet understanding their entrapment. Thousands of insects beat the air to a pulpy soup of animal panic. Bird hit the wall of fire and lit like bottle rockets…The animals began to run out through the fire into the open…toward people and death (346). 

This passage, as well as the following paragraphs, describes in horrible detail the slaughter of hundreds of creatures to keep the village alive. This passage brought to my mind images of billowing fire everywhere, while animals were caught frozen, in various poses of flight and terror. It’s hard to describe, but the horror of this scene was palpable to me as I read it, though I also understood the terrible necessity of it. The truth Adah comes to realize is “the death of something living is the price or our own survival, and we pay it again and again” (347). All living things kill to live, it is necessary for survival, but when the fact is right in front of your face, it is harder to accept than when it is far away. This point illustrates part of the plight of Africans and others in our world today: when a problem is far away, you don’t necessarily have to think about it, whereas if you are confronted by a problem it is hard to ignore. The Prices learn this lesson through their experiences in Africa, and take it with them after they leave.

The above passage was the one I felt best showcased the amazing ability of Kingsolver to bring a scene to life, but there were many others as well. As I read the book, I could feel and even taste the characters’ emotions, and very clearly see in my mind’s-eye what was happening. As I said, this is a very hard feeling for me to describe, but Kingsolver’s descriptions in The Poisonwood Bible were simply amazing.

Taking a less positive look at the book, The Poisonwood Bible possesses weaknesses as well as strengths. The most glaring and frustrating weakness of The Poisonwood Bible is the utter lack of even one chapter written from the point of view of Nathan Price. Never once in the entire book is his opinion of events or his own past explained or explored.

The Poisonwood Bible is written from the points of view of Orleanna Price and her four daughters. A good portion of the book is about Nathan, their husband or father. Aside from Leah and Ruth May at the start of the book, and a few descriptions by Orleanna, Nathan is described as temperamental, abusive, condescending, and unbelievably stubborn. Never once is Nathan given a chance to defend himself by giving us a window into his mind. Each chapter gives us as the readers a look into the way the writer thinks, or perceives those around them. We are never given this chance with Nathan, who is probably the most controversial character in the book. Is he in the Congo because he wants to help people, or because he didn’t die with his company? We assume the latter from what Orleanna says, but we never actually confirm this.

There is no proof for what any of the girls or Orleanna says without a word from Nathan. The majority of the novel is based on the point of views of three teenage girls. From my personal experience, I know most children don’t always agree with their parents, and especially teenage girls. Also, these are four girls whose father picked up and moved the entire family from the U.S. to Africa. While this is all conjecture, I think it at least somewhat realistic: most girls I know would not be pleased at all with their father if he told them he was moving them to Africa to be a missionary. Ruth May, Orleanna’s favorite child, was killed in Africa. She never would have been there had it not been for Nathan. Orleanna, therefore, also cannot be expected to relay with impartiality events involving Nathan. I don’t think Orleanna or the Price girls ever lied about something involving Nathan, but I do think their own personalities, prejudices, opinions, and relationships with Nathan did color the way their chapters depicted him.

I haven’t included any textual references or quotes in this section of the paper because any evidence I could use from the book is biased by whoever wrote the chapter. There is literally no impartial evidence with which to judge Nathan Price, which is the big problem. Also, it is very easy to write Nathan off as a bad person, and I’m not saying he can’t be or isn’t. The point I want to make is when we judge Nathan Price for his actions or supposed motives, we are doing so without hearing both sides of the story.

By not including any textual references or evidence for this topic, I have endeavored to level the playing field a bit. Kingsolver failed to do so, and the result was a book greatly biased against a man who never once is allowed to speak for himself. Nathan could have redeemed himself through even one chapter, or destroyed forever any hope of redemption in the eyes of the reader. Instead, we are encouraged to believe what others say of him, and to overlook his personal thoughts and feelings.

Popular opinion in class discussions was “Nathan is a bad person,” “Nathan isn’t a good father,” “Nathan hates women,” and other such accusations. Nathan may very well be all those things, but in all fairness we can’t condemn him on opinion alone. Nathan Price is never allowed to plead innocent or guilty. Barbara Kingsolver deliberately leads the reader to assign a specific judgment to this man without any evidence to support a conflicting view. Nathan, quite simply, was never given a chance to be a ‘good man’ in the eyes of the reader.

The Poisonwood Bible may also be referred to as a Termite-Eaten Bible because just like a piece of wood, it may look strong, and be strong in some places, but take a step and you may find the wood not as solid as you though. Kingsolver did a wonderful job with much of the book, but she also deliberately or by accident failed to include, in my opinion, one of the most crucial parts of the entire book. The Poisonwood Bible is an excellent book, but it has its pesky termites.