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.

Judge Dee: Confugalist extraordinaire

Judge Dee Goong An is the Magistrate of Chang-Ping. He is responsible for upholding the Emperor’s laws and being the mother and father of the people in his appointed area. Judge Dee is responsible for the conduct of the people under his jurisdiction. Judge Dee is a good Magistrate because he is a good Confucian, a good Legalist, and is also able to blend the two different schools of thought together for a greater whole.

As a good Confucian, Judge Dee takes respect for one’s ancestors and elders very seriously. It is important for Judge Dee to be a good follower of Confucius because his work as a Judge is based on the different relationships and activities of the people under his jurisdiction. He is responsible for the conduct of the people in his town and area, and on ensuring peace and justice. To be a judge, Dee has to have a very strong moral code to follow, and Confucianism was the most common, and most widely believed to be just, moral code for the time in which he lived. Two major aspects of Confucianism are filial piety and the class system. In the case of Mrs. Djou, the murderess and adulteress, Judge Dee, after having solved the case, tells her:

…it is stipulated in the Code that a criminal who still has an old parent to support, may be treated with special leniency…When you have confessed, I must, or course, propose the capitol punishment for you. But I shall add a recommendation for clemency, in view of the fact that you still have an old parent to support…(199).

While it may seem that Judge Dee is showing unjust favoritism to Mrs. Djou by ‘cutting her slack’ in terms of her punishment, by the standards of the times in which he lived he was being perfectly fair. As a good Confucian, it was Mrs. Djou’s responsibility to look after her mother-in-law, and so it was Judge Dee’s responsibility, as a good Confucian, to do all in his power to allow Mrs. Djou to do so. Implied in his Confucian beliefs is the idea that should he fail to at least recommend clemency for Mrs. Djou, the injustice done her mother-in-law would transfer from Mrs. Djou to Dee because he was the reason she could not care for her murdered husband’s mother.

Judge Dee also reveals himself to be a good Confucian through his respect and deference to Doctor Tang, a scholar of great renown and reputation. Judge Dee tells Doctor Tang, “If I were to interpret the provisions of the Code strictly, I could have you severely punished as an accessory. But in deference to your great achievements in the field of scholarly researches, I shall free you with this public reprimand…” (208). Judge Dee, as a good Confucian, does not punish Doctor Tang to the full extent of the law because Doctor Tang is a Scholar, the highest class according to the doctrines of Confucianism, and so deserves the highest respect and treatment of any person.  Though his mercy is given for different reasons, both the cases of Mrs. Djou and Doctor Tang show the preferential treatment dictated by Confucian beliefs.  While it may seem biased, the fact is that in the times of Judge Dee it was expected, just as today those who are physically or mentally handicapped are sometimes given preferential treatment.  It may seem unfair, but in the times of Dee it was perfectly acceptable. 

Judge Dee is also a good Legalist. He is not malicious, but is willing to ‘get his hands dirty’ to get the job done. Throughout the story torture is used as a means to extract information and confessions from the suspects. While this may seem cruel and evil to us today, Judge Dee, as a Legalist, was acting in accordance with Legalist beliefs. By torturing the suspects for confessions, Judge Dee sent a very clear message to all the other people in his area: do not break the law, as well as perhaps gaining valuable clues. Legalists believed that punishing people harshly for seemingly small crimes would discourage greater crimes from occurring. Warden Pang, though he moved the corpses of the two murdered men from the original spot of their murder, did not commit any greater crime. Before Judge Dee knew of this, he had “[Warden Pang] beaten with the heavy bamboo, and then [questioned] under torture” (15). Warden Pang receives one hundred lashes from the bamboo. Judge Dee was not overstepping his bounds and authority in having Warden Pang beaten for a confession without proof. Under a Legalist system, the state, and its laws, are more important than any individual. Because of this, Judge Dee was perfectly justified in having Pang beaten. If the Warden had confessed to the murder, justice would have been served, and the law would have been upheld. Warden Pang was irresponsible in his duties, and so the beating served as a reminder for him not to stray from his duties again. Officials of Legalistic beliefs punished wrongdoers very harshly for small crimes, and as a good Legalist, so did Judge Dee, in perfect accordance with the standards of his community.

Though Judge Dee is a good Confucian and a responsible Legalist, his strength as a good judge lies in his ability to blend those two different schools of thought together in such a way as to make the end result greater than the two parts. A prime example is, again, the example of Mrs. Djou. As a good legalist, Judge Dee had Mrs. Djou tortured for her crimes, but as a good Confucian Dee granted her clemency in order to allow her to continue to look after her elderly mother-in-law. Judge Dee seamlessly blended together Legalism and Confucianism into a completely new school of thought: Confugalism. This can also be seen in Judge Dee’s treatment of Doctor Tang. As Dee said, he could have had Doctor Tang “severely punished as an accessory” (208), but instead he only told Tang that he was “strictly forbidden ever again to engage in the teaching of young students” (208). As a strict Confucian, Judge Dee had the option to assign little or no punishment to Doctor Tang in light of his high social standing. As a strict Legalist, Judge Dee could have given Tang the same punishment as Hsu Den-tai (Mrs. Djou’s lover and Doctor Tang’s student), as an example to others in similar positions. Because of his dual belief system, Dee was able to gracefully lighten Doctor Tang’s punishment in light of his social position, but still punish him for his irresponsibility in watching over the moral activities of his students.

Judge Dee, though he gave special consideration to different people in his solving of the different cases presented to him, did not at any point act outside his authority. Everything Judge Dee did was perfectly justified, and in the end he solved all his cases in excellent fashion. Though his methods are sometimes biased and brutal by today’s standards, Judge Dee, by the Chinese standards of his own time, was a magnificent Judge and Magistrate. Through his beliefs of Confucianism and Legalism, Judge Dee was a great Magistrate. His ability to blend the two schools together into a formidable combination made him a legendary one.

*Confugalist n. One who is both a Confucian and a Legalist

Warrior: Samurai: Oishi ("The 47 Ronin Story")

In the time of The 47 Ronin Story, Samurai were no longer glorious warriors. With no wars to fight, and no lands to claim for their lords, many Samurai degenerated into men without a calling, and lost their iron-discipline and finely honed fighting skills. Others, without masters, were Ronin, and served as mercenaries, spies, or as general nuisances to society. Despite the weakness of other Samurai, Oishi, the chief retainer of Lord Asano, personifies the Way of the Warrior. Oishi is not just a Samurai: he is the essence of what Samurai should be. He displays loyalty, devotion, and courage throughout his endeavors to avenge Lord Asano.

 Oishi was loyal to Lord Asano to the point of fanaticism, even after Lord Asano’s death. Shortly after the death of Lord Asano, and while Oishi and the other samurai are unsure of their path of action, Oishi is contacted by “several prominent daimyo [who requested his services] as chief retainer, but his dedication to the house of Asano had never been stronger and he answered them all with polite refusals…” (86). Oishi, though he could accept the offers of these powerful lords, and continue to live his life in much the same way he had under the Asano crest, instead chooses to remain dedicated to Lord Asano. As a loyal member of the house of Asano, he refuses to give up in his quest to avenge his deceased lord. The price of this choice is that Oishi becomes a Ronin without a master, and loses his source of income. Oishi is forced to live as best he can with what he has, with his loyalty to Lord Asano his only solace. Oishi forsakes the promise of a relatively peaceful life in exchange for revenge against his master’s enemy. Oishi remains loyal to his deceased master even when it means he himself will suffer.

 Oishi put himself and his family in danger in defense of Lord Asano’s family. After Lord Asano’s death, and the subsequent eviction of his people from the Asano castle, Oishi leaves the castle with his family. He takes with him his wife and children, but “no outsider could have known that one of the three children [with Oishi and his wife] was Lord Asano’s little daughter, whom Oishi had sworn to protect with his life if necessary” (81). Oishi does not know what is going to happen to Lord Asano’s daughter after his lord’s death, but he takes the responsibility upon himself to ensure her safety. Oishi, so the text states, is ready and prepared to protect the girl even if it costs him his life, and places his family in jeopardy. If the Shogun wanted the girl dead, and Oishi was found to have hidden her, he would probably be killed, and his family dishonored, if not worse. Oishi is not required to hide Lord Asano’s daughter. He could have left her to her fate and saved himself the risk and trouble. Instead he does everything in his power to ensure her safety. Oishi’s loyalty to Lord Asano translated into serving his daughter as best he could.

 Oishi was not only loyal to Lord Asano, but was devoted to him. Upon learning of his lord’s death, Oishi travels to the Asano burial grounds and temple. Oishi considers Lord Asano to be the kind of lord and commander he “would follow…anywhere, even to the grave if necessary, and he would have no hesitation in drawing his dirk and joining him…” (55). Oishi, by looking after Lord Asano’s daughter, was loyal, but by being willing to commit suicide for his Lord, he displayed his devotion to his lord. Loyalty requires no goodwill on either side, only duty. Devotion to a master requires a willingness and enthusiasm within loyalty. Duty can compel action, but it takes something more than duty to make a man kill himself for another’s honor. In the case of Oishi, this was his devotion to Lord Asano as a great man and leader. Oishi does not see suicide as an escape from his hard life. Instead, he sees it as a viable political option. The willingness of a man to disembowel himself for his cause and beliefs is very powerful. Being willing to kill himself reveals an amount of commitment and dedication to a cause unparalleled by any other. If all else failed, the suicide of Oishi may have at least given the Shogun pause to think about his actions. But Oishi would rather avenge his lord and make a point than allow the dishonor to continue, with or without driving his point home, and so doesn’t commit seppuku. Oishi is devoted to Lord Asano, and fights on when he could give up and kill himself.

 Oishi displayed his devotion to Lord Asano through his patience and perseverance. Before the confiscation of the Asano castle, Oishi tells his men their choices of action regarding revenge. He says, “’we have but two alternatives: either to kneel before the castle and commit seppuku as a final protest, or to surrender the castle peaceably . . . and then split up and wait until the right moment to take revenge on Kira himself!’” (69). Oishi and his men wait many, many months before finally killing Kira. Some of the Samurai give up, and abandon any hope for revenge. They were loyal, but not devoted. Oishi and others, however, remained steadfast and devoted to justice for Lord Asano, with Oishi the most devoted of all to their cause. Oishi’s devotion to Lord Asano allows him to wait, and wait, and wait until the golden opportunity to kill Kira. Oishi is extremely loyal, but his devotion kept him by Lord Asano’s side even when other loyal men surrendered.

 Oishi, driven by his loyalty and devotion to the House of Asano and Lord Asano, was very courageous in battle, and was even willing to sacrifice his own life. During the assault on Kira’s residence, he is nowhere to be found. Finally, Kira is lured out of hiding, and challenges the invading Samurai. Kira taunts the men of Edo to come at him all at once, but Oishi says, “’Let no one interfere…My ‘pack’ won’t kill you, Lord Kira, but I will” (228). Kira is reputed to be an excellent swordsman, and indeed he proves to be a worthy adversary in his duel with Oishi. Oishi shows his bravery and courage through his willingness to combat Kira single-handed. The easy response to Kira’s challenge would have been for Oishi and his men to kill him without mercy. Instead, Oishi grants Kira at least a small amount of his honor, and fights him one on one. Oishi is willing to put his life in danger, when he need not, for a ‘fair’ fight.

During the assault on Kira’s home, he leads his men fearlessly and courageously. Oishi was “at the head of the column…[with his] assault team[:]…a small group of picked men” (217-221). Many commanders lead their troops from behind the lines, out of danger. It is often said only a very brave and courageous general will lead his men into battle as the head of the spear: at the front of the line. In comparison to today’s world, Oishi is both the Commander in chief of his men, and the point man of a commando strike team during the assault on Kira’s home. Oishi places himself in great danger when other commanders would have happily watched the battle from a safe position. Oishi is not reckless, but he is extremely brave in battle, and a courageous and inspiring leader.

 Oishi was extremely loyal to Lord Asano and to the house of Asano, even after his lord’s death.  He was steadfast in his efforts to avenge Lord Asano. He concealed Lord Asano’s daughter by putting his and his family’s safety at risk, without regret or hesitation. Oishi remained devoted to Lord Asano when other loyal Samurai abandoned his memory and honor. He was willing sacrifice his own life if needed to regain his lord’s besmirched honor, and waited many months for revenge to be his. Oishi was fearless in battle, and led his men from the head of his forces, as only a truly courageous general would. Oishi also agrees to fight an accomplished swordsman one on one in order to keep his honor, when he could easily have sent his men to kill him instead. Oishi was the ultimate warrior. He was Samurai in the truest form of the word, and never strayed from the Way of the Warrior.

Terry Goodkind

Quotes of Import

          Website (terrygoodkind.com)

• “My intent with my novels is simply to tell a good story.”
• “My philosophy…is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute.”
• “My…beliefs, however, guide what I think is a good story and how I tell it, just as every writer, whether they realize it or not, is guided by their philosophy.”
• “I believe that the world we see is real…I don’t believe in magic.”
• “Magic is…something that exists, just like everything else exists…rather than…ruled by consciousness.” 
• I believe in the nobility of the human spirit, the sacredness of existence.”
• “Can a person blind from birth ever be able to truly understand the nature and effect of fog?”
• “I don’t portray faith in mankind. I portray faith in individuals.”
• “I base what I do on the ultimate value, which is life.”
• “The ‘greater good’ is always someone else.”
• “We survive through our ability to reason, through Truth.”
• “Richard is a character of free will…He knows that this is the only life he’s going to have; he’s not going to throw it away casually.”

          Books (The Sword of Truth series)

• “Your life is yours alone. Rise up and live it.”
• “I am the Bringer of Death. I have named myself so.”
• “Knowledge is a weapon. I intend to be formidably armed.”
• “Think of the solution not the problem.”
• “We will die with a sword in our hands and not chains on our wings.”
• “Dance with me death for I am ready”
• “Don’t shed tears for those already in the ground, until after you have brought vengeance to those who put them there.”
• “Choose, then. With us or not. But choose this day for all time.”
• “ We can be only who we are, no more, no less.”
• “History is rarely made by reasonable men.”
• “Everything is valuable under the right conditions.”
• “Hesitation can be the end of you…or those you care about.”
• “Words can’t cut you. Ward only for steel. Fight only steel.”
• “There is nothing that exists that has only one side.”
• “Pity for the guilty is treason to the innocent.”
• “Love is a passion for life shared with another person.”
• “Cut. Once committed to fight, Cut. Everything else is secondary. Cut. That is your duty, your purpose, your hunger. There is no rule more important, no commitment that overrides this one. Cut.”
• “Only those you trust can betray you.”
• “Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your light we thrive. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.”
• “Blade, be true this day.”
• “The answer you want is within yourself. You must seek it.”
• “Fate does not always seek our consent.”
• “I am the weapon.”
• “The Sword of Truth is only a tool. The Seeker is the weapon.”
• “We are the steel against steel, that Lord Rahl may be the magic against magic.”

Wizard’s Rules (also from The Sword of Truth series)

• “People are stupid; given the proper motivation, almost anyone will believe almost anything. Because people are stupid, they will believe a lie because they want to believe it, or because they are afraid it might be true.”
• “The greatest harm can result from the best intentions.”
• “Passion rules reason.”
• “There was magic in sincere forgiveness…magic to heal. In forgiveness you grant, and more so in forgiveness you receive.”
• “Mind what people do, not only what they say, for deeds will betray a lie.”
• “The most important rule there is:…the only sovereign you can allow to rule you is reason.”
• “Life is the future, not the past.”
• “Talga Vassternich. Deserve victory.”
• “A contradiction can not exist in reality. Not in part, nor in whole.”
• “Willfully turning aside from the truth is treason to one’s self.”
• “Everything exists within us.”

These quotes are given to us through the ‘good guys’ of the story: many of them from Richard Ralh, the main character. Pieces of wisdom they say are to be believed, though in the books they are often only discovered by being broken or ignored (as in the case of many of the Wizard’s rules). I guess you could say wisdom comes only through failure. Often the characters either don’t understand exactly what it is they are saying, but over the course of a chapter, sequence, or sometimes an entire book, they discover the meaning behind the words. Others of these quotes are simply ‘epic’ quotes that I believe show a bit of the flavor and feel of the books, without giving away the storyline or ‘surprise’ events. The ideas expressed in the quotes are ones that Terry Goodkind wishes us to reflect upon. For this reason, we aren’t ever tricked into a false belief by the protagonists (unless we haven’t been paying attention to the plotline). When a grand idea is written, such as the Wizard’s rules, or Richard’s thoughts, they are either true, or explained to be fallacy. All that I have included are true as they relate to the story. Whether they are true in the real world is up to you.

Terry Goodkind is the author of The Sword of Truth series. There are twelve books in the series and it is eight thousand one hundred fifty-six pages long. It took him thirteen years to complete. He was once and still is a violinmaker (though he doesn’t play the instrument), and an art restorer. He built his first home with his own hands. He is dyslexic, and has a hard time reading. He has not read any of J.R.R. Tolkien’s books, and does not read other fantasy books even though he writes them: they frustrate him because he doesn’t usually like the direction they go in, and always wants to ‘fix’ all sorts of things in the story.

People have drawn parallels between his works and the works of other fantasy writers, and his response is usually something like, “I don’t read other fantasy, and if you think I would steal ideas from other authors you shouldn’t be reading my books.” When asked what he does read, he said that he reads research papers and philosophy. He considers himself a student of history, and loves the books of Ayn Rand in particular (hers are the only books he ever really says anything about). 

His ‘about the author’ is always the same: “Terry Goodkind lives in the western United States.” The picture, taken by his wife, is also always the same: black and white; an unsmiling, bearded Goodkind in a black t-shirt blending into a black background; arms crossed; and his piercing eyes jumping off the page at you. This sparked the question on his website of “are there any other pictures of you in existence?” The answer was, yes there are, and someday maybe he’ll make them available.

I think this helps to show what a truly unique author and person Terry Goodkind is: he doesn’t tell us where he’s from or where he is now, what his education is, or anything really. Unless you go to his website there is no way to find out more about him. His writing says all that needs to be said: his background is unimportant. He started writing the books not because he wanted to make money, but because he had a great idea for a story and wanted to write it down so that he would remember it: he wrote most of the first book before the idea of selling it even occurred to him.

Terry Goodkind’s philosophy is “the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute” (terrygoodkind.com). He believes that life is the most important thing, above anything else: give up anything before you give up your life; sacrifice everything for the lives of yourself and your loved ones. He doesn’t have faith in mankind, but he has faith in individuals.

His whole philosophy is based on the idea that you must never allow someone to tell you that someone else’s life is worth more than your own. He said, “the greater good is always someone else” so think of yourself as an individual, and weigh the cost to your life before you give to another. This sounds selfish at first, but if you read Faith of the Fallen, over the course of the book you’ll come to agree that a society that holds the ‘greater good’ over the lives and welfare of individuals is one destined for poverty and despair. The idea isn’t that you shouldn’t help others, but that you shouldn’t feel obligated to. Don’t give because you think they deserve whatever you’re giving more than you do, but because you don’t need it and they do. 

He believes in a world governed by reality and reason, rather than consciousness: he disagrees with Plato in this regard. He believes that reality is reality, and we should get used to it because it’s not going to change to make us happy. By contrast, Plato believed that reality as we see it is simply a distortion of a true and perfect reality, which accounts for the imperfection in the world. For this reason Goodkind doesn’t believe in magic, and it is not portrayed in his books, as something that is conjured by the will of the wizard; rather it is a natural force that acts within the world, and is simply controlled by one with the ability to do so. For instance: you cannot conjure fire. Instead, heat the air until it ignites into a fireball. Freeze water by drawing the heat out of it and into something else. Something cannot be created from nothing. 

Obviously Terry Goodkind’s philosophy is apparent throughout his books: the major conflict of the series is between a free society and a collective society. At times his writing becomes very ‘preachy:’ there is one twenty to thirty page speech about freedom, slavery, good and evil that seems to happen in three or four of the books. That’s one of the big divisions between people who have read his books: some people agree with or at least tolerate his views and continue reading the series, and other people can’t stand the perceived arrogance of Terry Goodkind and his views. He definitely provokes deep thought.

On his website he says that his “intent with [his] novels is simply to tell a good story” and that is definitely true, but he also imparts very profound and thought provoking ideas. These span concepts of good and evil, right and wrong, relativity, faith, belief, value of life (for instance: why is the life of a child considered worth more than that of an adult? If the child is the child of your enemy, is it worth your countryman dying to protect the child’s life in war?), and a multitude of others. Each is very nicely reasoned and explained. Whether or not you agree with the conclusion, you have to at least respect Goodkind’s logic. Not one of his books lacks in either area: somehow eight thousand pages leaves you wishing the story would continue, and what further moral stances Goodkind may make. 

Simply put, Terry Goodkind’s books are epic. It is fantasy, but not “fantasy for fantasy’s sake” as Goodkind puts it. He considers his books novels first and foremost: the fact that they happen in medieval worlds with magic means that he can address common issues in new and unique ways. One example of this was the idea of abuse: if he were to write a story about a woman being abused by her husband, many people would quickly lose interest because that is a commonplace example. If, on the other hand, he wrote (which in fact he did) about a character being tortured with physical and magical attacks: absolutely unable to free himself, then he could bring the idea home in a way that hadn’t been experienced before. There is a torture scene in one book that takes around seventy pages to conclude, and his editor was horrified with it when he first read it, but on reflection, realized there were only a couple pages of any physical torture, and the rest was Goodkind getting his readers into the mind of the victim: something he achieved extraordinarily well. I couldn’t sleep after I read that section for the first time.

His books are very well written, though if you are a detail fanatic you may be somewhat disappointed, because there are a couple times where his logic and continuity seems a little confusing (people die without the reader being told exactly how, etc): he says he is trying to get a point across, and the method with which he gets there is not always the most important thing. He says this isn’t a defense of sloppy writing, but rather an explanation of why small details may seem out of place, or are omitted at times. He isn’t what he calls a ‘world builder:’ he doesn’t intend for someone to be able to create a world from only his writing: some imagination and independent thought by the reader is required.

Goodkind’s books are truly amazing. His characters are incredibly lifelike, and you really do care for every one of them by the end of the series (or even the very first chapter). His plot twists, though sometimes predictable (as in the reader might be a step ahead of the character), are original, interesting, and keep the books moving at an exciting pace. The things he does with his characters, and the things his characters do and how they grow, is something I have never experienced with another author. I don’t always like the way things go in the books, but I can’t argue with the logic and series of events that bring about the conclusions. There are no “what? That was random and stupid” moments in this series. 

On his website, Goodkind has a section devoted to explaining his philosophy, how it relates to other philosophies such as Plato’s and Aristotle’s, and how it relates to life and his books. He provides a lot of examples, and if you want to read something very thought provoking, read that. He also hold question and answer sessions on his forums, and if you have any further questions about how he writes, where he gets his ideas, what he thinks about various things, or even what kind of music he listens to when he writes (which he does for “twelve to fourteen hours a day, seven days a week” when he’s not touring), you should look at the very well structured and presented transcripts. So if there are any questions or aspects of Terry Goodkind and his writing that I have left unanswered, unsatisfactory, or unadressed, terrygoodkind.com is definitely the place to go for better answers. Or just read the books.

I highly recommend this series to anyone: as long as you can put up with his philosophy, I guarantee you will enjoy these books. The first book is now a weekly television series, but don’t watch that and judge the books on it (someday someone will make movies about them with the quality Peter Jackson brought The Lord of the Rings). The books are ten thousand times better. I can honestly say they are my favorite books, and Terry Goodkind my favorite author. Terry Goodkind has not written any other books outside The Sword of Truth series, but he has said he will, and I am eagerly looking forward to the day he does.

Bibliography of works by Terry Goodkind:

Goodkind, Terry. Wizard’s First Rule. New York: Tor Books, July 1995.

Goodkind, Terry. Stone of Tears. New York: Tor Books, June 1996.

Goodkind, Terry. Blood of the Fold. New York: Tor Books, July 1997.

Goodkind, Terry. Temple of the winds. New York: Tor Books, August 1998.

Goodkind, Terry. Soul of the Fire. New York: Tor Books, April 1999.

Goodkind, Terry. Faith of the Fallen. New York: Tor Books, November 2001.

Goodkind, Terry. The Pillars of Creation. New York: Tor Books, November 2001.

Goodkind, Terry. Naked Empire. New York: Tor Books, July 2003.

Goodkind, Terry. Chainfire. New York: Tor Books, January 2005.

Goodkind, Terry. Phantom. New York: Tor Books, 2006.

Goodkind, Terry. Confessor. New York: Tor Books, November 2007.

Goodkind, Terry. Dept of Bones. New York: Tor Books, December 2001.

Goodkind, Terry. TerryGoodkind.com. 6 September 2008. 6 December 2008. 

< http://terrygoodkind.com/ >

Other sources:

“Quotes.” Palace of the Prophets. 19 February 2005. 6 December 2008. 

<http://www.geocities.com/Palace_Of_The_Prophets/quotes.htm>

“Sword of Truth.” Wikiquote. 13 November 2008. Wikipedia. 6 December 2008. 

<http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Sword_of_Truth>

“Sword of Truth Quotes.” Tripod. 6 December 2008. 

<http://members.tripod.com/~Dark_Prophet_9/quotes.html>