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Senior

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Young Jun Jung

on 3 May 2010

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Transcript of Senior

Novel The great Gatsby Don Quixote Song Swing low sweet chariot Deep River Poem Mending Wall “I decided to call him. Miss Baker had mentioned him at dinner, and that would do for an introduction. But I didn’t call to him, for he gave a sudden intimation that he was content to be alone-he stretched out his arms toward the dark water in a curious way, and, far as I was from him, I could have sworn he was trembling. Involuntarily I glanced seaward-and distinguished nothing except a single green light, minute and far away, that might have been the end of a dock. When I looked once more for Gatsby he had vanished, and I was alone again in the unquiet darkness.” (excerpt from chapter 1) "As nothing that is man's can last for ever, but all tends ever downwards from its beginning to its end, and above all man's life, and as Don Quixote's enjoyed no special dispensation from heaven to stay its course, its end and close came when he least looked for it. For- whether it was of the dejection the thought of his defeat produced, or of heaven's will that so ordered it- a fever settled upon him and kept him in his bed for six days, during which he was often visited by his friends the curate, the bachelor, and the barber, while his good squire Sancho Panza never quitted his bedside. They, persuaded that it was grief at finding himself vanquished, and the object of his heart, the liberation and disenchantment of Dulcinea, unattained, that kept him in this state, strove by all the means in their power to cheer him up;" My Literary Folio by Jun Jung Novels are very popular to the people. And this is maybe because novels are about lives of people, even though they are fictional, and real people can relate to their stories. At least, that is how I feel about them. Novels’ settings are almost as real as the settings we have in our lives, and what is amazing about novels is that it ca be written in a way that it may sometimes seem magical or out of this world. But still, they cover issues that are not far from reality; love, hatred, revenge you name it, they have it. When I read “the Great Gatsby,” I found Gatsby as someone like a real person, because he can love and he did everything he can to get the one he loved the most. Another story that comes to mind is Miguel de Cervantes’s “Don Quixote.” Quixana, the protagonist, believed so much in books about knights and chivalry that he felt that he can become a knight too. For this, he also had a ladylove, who he named Dulcinea. But at the end, he realized his foolishness, adding to everyone else’s jokes about him, and failed attempt to get Dulcinea. All these caused him to get sick and die. Swing low, sweet chariot
Comin' for to carry me home
Swing low, sweet chariot
Comin' for to carry me home

I looked over Jordan and what did I see
Comin' for to carry me home
A band of angels comin' after me
Comin' for to carry me home

Swing low, sweet chariot
Comin' for to carry me home
Swing low, sweet chariot
Comin' for to carry me home

If you get to heaven before I do
Comin' for to carry me home
Tell all my friends I'm comin' there too
Comin' for to carry me home

Swing low, sweet chariot
Comin' for to carry me home
Swing low, sweet chariot
Comin' for to carry me home

Songs, for me, are life-giving words that keep us on the right way, keeping us calm and focus on the things that we need to do. Songs effect all kinds of emotion to build up inside our hearts. They have a power to influence people, how they live, how they think, how they act. Among the different kinds of songs, spiritual songs are probably the most effective and most useful, especially during the times we are at our saddest. I, being a music lover, can tell you that songs really help us people. They can give us answers to problems, hope in front of tragedies, and faith in the face of dangers. “Swing Low Sweet Chariot” tell us of hope for a better life. And “Deep River” is not so far from the theme of the first song. Both were created by African Americans who were treated as slaves back in the plantation days. Given the hardships that they faced everyday, it’s amazing that some of them are still able to look at life this way, full of hope and faith. Have you ever tried listening to the message of a certain song? Try listening to every word it sings out, then you’ll see the power of songs to influence. Deep River,
My home is over Jordan.
Deep River Lord.
I want to cross over into campground.
Oh, don't you want to go,
To the gospel feast.
Oh, that promised land,
Where all, where all is peace.
deep River, Lord,
I want to cross over into campground.
Deep River.
My home is over Jordan.
Deep River, Lord,
I want to cross over into campground.
If we can all live in peace, just for one day, it will be so perfect
Everyone will be in harmony
And utopia will be achieved
But, in reality, utopia cannot be achieved
Because it lives in a fantasy world...
A Fantasy World He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors.'
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.'
I am not really a big fan of poems, but after reading a few of them, I kind of liked how the words are arranged in a way that it can still make your mind imagine what they are saying. The feeling that you get from reading poems are like the feelings you get from reading other forms of literature. And what’s amazing about poems is that even though poems are usually shorter than short stories, essays, and novels (definitely shorter than novels), poems still has the basic elements of a story (like the setting, events, climax, resolutions, etc.). Poems can also show ideas; ideas that the poet has on certain issues. And poets play with words in such a way that you would consider them wrong in grammar, yet they are still able to show their ideas to the readers. That’s what I got from “Mending Wall” by Robert Frost. Even with what looks like wrongly placed words, I still understood what he wanted to say. A similar poem, not in placement of words, but rather with the idea Frost shows, and that is “A Fantasy World” by Nicole George. Both poems deal with ideas that man would want to have a life without any conflict or secrecy, without having to need to keep one’s self far from others. But in reality, this kind of world can never exist. “On a summer morning a hundred and fifty years ago a young Danish squire and his wife went out for a walk on their land. They had been married a week. It had not been easy for them to get married, for the wife’s family was higher in rank and wealthier than the husband’s. But the two young people, now twenty-four and nineteen years old, had been set on their purpose for ten years; in the end her haughty parents had had to give in to them.”
“As she heard her own voice pronounce the words she conceived their meaning. Her wedding ring. ‘With this ring’dropped by one and kicked away by another‘with this ring I thee wed.’ With this lost ring she had wedded herself to something. To what? To poverty, persecution, total loneliness. To the sorrows and the sinfulness of this earth. ‘And what therefore God has joined together let man not put asunder.’”
"Bill and me had a joint capital of about six hundred dollars, and we needed just two thousand dollars more to pull off a fraudulent town-lot scheme in Western Illinois with. We talked it over on the front steps of the hotel. Philoprogenitiveness, says we, is strong in semi-rural communities; therefore and for other reasons, a kidnapping project ought to do better there than in the radius of newspapers that send reporters out in plain clothes to stir up talk about such things"
"Great pirates of Penzance!" says I; "of all the impudent -- "

But I glanced at Bill, and hesitated. He had the most appealing look in his eyes I ever saw on the face of a dumb or a talking brute.

"Sam," says he, "what's two hundred and fifty dollars, after all? We've got the money. One more night of this kid will send me to a bed in Bedlam. Besides being a thorough gentleman, I think Mr. Dorset is a spendthrift for making us such a liberal offer. You ain't going to let the chance go, are you?" Short Story The Ring The Ransom of Red Chief Plot Twist A Monkey's Paw Her husband interposed. "There, there, Mother," he said hastily. "Sit down, and don't jump to conclusions. You've not brought bad news, I'm sure, sir," and he eyed the other wistfully.
"I'm sorry--" began the visitor.
"Is he hurt?" demanded the mother.
The visitor bowed in assent. "Badly hurt," he said quietly, "but he is not in any pain."
"Oh, thank God!" said the old woman, clasping her hands. "Thank God for that! Thank--"
She broke off suddenly as the sinister meaning of the assurance dawned upon her and she saw the awful confirmation of her fears in the other's averted face. She caught her breath, and turning to her slower-witted husband, laid her trembling old hand upon his. There was a long silence.
The Signal-man "Coming round the curve in the tunnel, sir," he said, "I saw him at the end, like as if I saw him down a perspective-glass. There was no time to check speed, and I knew him to be very careful. As he didn't seem to take heed of the whistle, I shut it off when we were running down upon him, and called to him as loud as I could call."
"What did you say?"
"I said, 'Below there! Look out! Look out! For God's sake, clear the way!'"
I started.
"Ah! it was a dreadful time, sir. I never left off calling to him. I put this arm before my eyes not to see, and I waved this arm to the last; but it was no use."
Without prolonging the narrative to dwell on any one of its curious circumstances more than on any other, I may, in closing it, point out the coincidence that the warning of the Engine-Driver included, not only the words which the unfortunate Signal-man had repeated to me as haunting him, but also the words which I myself--not he--had attached, and that only in my own mind, to the gesticulation he had imitated.
Character Development Metamorphosis “My dear parents,” said the sister banging her hand on the table by way of an introduction, “things cannot go on any longer in this way. Maybe if you don’t understand that, well, I do. I will not utter my brother’s name in front of this monster, and thus I say only that we must try to get rid of it. We have tried what is humanly possible to take care of it and to be patient. I believe that no one can criticize us in the slightest... We must try to get rid of it,” the sister now said decisively to the father, for the mother, in her coughing fit, was not listening to anything. “It is killing you both. I see it coming. When people have to work as hard as we all do, they cannot also tolerate this endless torment at home. I just can’t go on any more.” And she broke out into such a crying fit that her tears flowed out down onto her mother’s face. She wiped them off her mother with mechanical motions of her hands. A Doll's House NORA:
[shaking her head]. You have never loved me. You have only thought it pleasant to be in love with me.
HELMER:
Nora, what do I hear you saying?
NORA:
It is perfectly true, Torvald. When I was at home with papa, he told me his opinion about everything, and so I had the same opinions; and if I differed from him I concealed the fact, because he would not have liked it. He called me his doll-child, and he played with me just as I used to play with my dolls. And when I came to live with you
HELMER:
What sort of an expression is that to use about our marriage?
NORA:
[undisturbed]. I mean that I was simply transferred from papa's hands into yours. You arranged everything according to your own taste, and so I got the same tastes as youor else I pretended to, I am really not quite sure whichI think sometimes the one and sometimes the other. When I look back on it, it seems to me as if I had been living here like a poor womanjust from hand to mouth. I have existed merely to perform tricks for you, Torvald. But you would have it so. You and papa have committed a great sin against me. It is your fault that I have made nothing of my life. Often we find in stories we read about the struggles of the characters, how it affected or will affect them as the story goes on. In real life, we also experience these things, like when things happen to us in ways that we are forever changed, in the way we see life. One good example of character development is the story by Franz Kafka, “The Metamorphosis.” Just like in real life, certain things happened to the family that eventually made them realize that they have to move on, let go of the past. Another example of this is the play, “A Doll’s House,” where Nora realized the changes she had to make in her life after experiencing a heart-breaking event. Having this concept in literature is a great way to influence people, because it teaches us that problems can really change people, that the people must change on their own, all for a better life. As readers, how did the changes in the characters you read affect you personally? For me, having read these things, it opened my eyes to the idea that change is not really that bad, that we will always have to change some time. Speech Ain't I A Woman? Then that little man in black there, he says women can't have as much rights as men, 'cause Christ wasn't a woman! Where did your Christ come from? Where did your Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothing to do with Him.
If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down all alone, these women together ought to be able to turn it back , and get it right side up again! And now they is asking to do it, the men better let them.
I Have A Dream I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
Communication with people is the only way to transfer ideas from one person to another. Chatting with your friends is a form of communication. Television shows and newspaper articles are other forms of communication. As for the last two mentioned, both are ways to communicate with a large audience. Another way is through speech. Speech is an amazing tool of telling people what your mind is telling you on certain issues. And it also does a great job of urging people to join you in your cause, if done correctly. Sojourner Truth, for example, raised awareness concerning equality among all Americans, especially black woman with the rest of America, when she gave her speech of “Ain’t I a Woman?” She did a great job of pointing out things that were at fault during her time, things that, whichever way you look at it, are true. Another rights activist, if I may say, delivered a speech concerning the same issue; Martin Luther King, Jr., with his “I Have A Dream” speech, showed America the naked truth about the status of the equality among blacks and whites. Though a speech is spoken, how come it finds its way into the literature class? I think it is because of the importance it holds in the history of man, how it reflects the life of man on certain times, and its similar power with written literature to influence people at certain levels. Theater/Play Hamlet Macbeth
GHOST:
I am thy father's spirit,
Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, And for the day confined to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand an end Like quills upon the fretful porpentine. But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list!If thou didst ever thy dear father love—
HAMLET:
O God!
GHOST:
Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.
HAMLET:
Murder?
GHOST:
Murder most foul, as in the best it is; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
HAMLET:
Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift As meditation or the thoughts of love, May sweep to my revenge.
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which now I draw.
Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.
Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still,
And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood,
Which was not so before. There's no such thing:
It is the bloody business which informs
Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one halfworld
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder,
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,
Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace.
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my whereabout,
And take the present horror from the time,
Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives:
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.

(A bell rings)
I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven or to hell.
Theater play is a mirror of human behavior. Though other kinds of literature are, with theater play, the effect is much greater, because we can actually see what life looks like. Theater makes use of lighting, tone of voice, and of course, acting. But most important is a good script. Without a good script, the play would go straight to the trash can. A good script, I think, consists of a good theme that is shown all throughout the play; lessons that can be learned from the play; logical transitions from scene to scene; and dialogues that show emotion in every word. And such a script exists, thanks to William Shakespeare. One thing I like about Shakespeare is that he can write things that would still be considered “in” in any generation. And I think that’s because his works are often based on human psychology and behavioral patterns, so you can be sure to relate any of his works to someone you know, or even yourself. This talent of his is shown in one of his play, Hamlet. He was able to make the story revolve around certain issues of life, particularly deceit, lust for power, and revenge. And he was also able to tackle other issues like love, religion, and power. Similar to this play is another of his works. Macbeth also revolves around deceit, lust for power, and revenge. And another similar thing between these two is this: fate. Authors Hwang Sunwon Yi Munyol (From "The Crane")
This village to the north of the 38th parallel demarcation line was lying utterly still below the lofty, clear, autumn sky.
On the dirt-floored steps in unoccupied houses, a few pale gourds lay where they had rolled, propped one against another.
Old men he happened to cross turned aside, pipes first. The children left the path well ahead of him, as children do. Every face was riven with fear.
The entire neighborhood had suffered little or no damage in the recent turmoil. Yet somehow it seemed not to be the old village in which he had lived as a child.
(From "The Poet")
Su-man stopped abruptly and restrained his harsh breathing, while hesitating to give a clear answer. Their father's words had obviously not yet become real for his brother, he spoke as if nothing had changed, demanding a reply:
"Tell us. What's happening?"
"I'm not sure that you're old enough to understand, young masters."
"I order you to tell us."
"Do you know that a great revolt has broken out in the north? The people in Pyongan Province have plotted sedition, and have risen up. . . ."
"I gathered as much from what the servants were whispering."
"But his Lordship who was stationed in Sonchon. . ."
"What has our grandfather done?"
"He was captured by the rebels--and they say he surrendered to them. But you know that anyone surrendering to rebels becomes a rebel, too."
"But then why are we. . . ?"
Judging by his questions his older brother was rather slow-witted for his age. Or else the younger brother was far too bright. The only thing he had really studied were the first thousand Chinese characters--which he had learned while playing on his grandmother's lap. Yet by now he already knew: if someone becomes a rebel, the punishment entails the destruction of that person's family for three generations, and they were included in that.
Reading novels is good, because we can get a lot of ideas from the experiences of characters. With short stories, I think it is better, because we do not have to spend so much time finishing them, and we can still get ideas and lessons from them. Another difference I see between the two is that one is made up of many short stories, because novels are about many experiences, while the other one, short stories, focus on one experience. But like I said, short stories still have complete ideas. For example, the story by Frank Dinesen, “The Ring,” talks about one event in a couples’ life. I will compare this with a story by O. Henry, “The Ransom of Red Chief,” because it talks about the experience of two criminals with their kidnap victims. Both stories talks about wanting to have something badly, but in the end, you realize that that is not what you really wanted to have. So that is one example of how short stories can still have complete ideas or lessons even if they are shorter than novels. Literature, specially novels and short stories, can never be complete without twists. Imagine eating cheeseburger. In itself, it is already delicious. Then you try a different cheeseburger. You do not know why, but this one tastes better than the already delicious one you had before. Then you find out that the burger patty is made from very delicious ingredient. That’s how twists in plots of stories work. It makes the story more interesting, like it surprises you when you did not expect it to. In school, I remember having studied “Monkey’s Paw,” by WW Jacob. This short story actually has a cool plot twist; a simple object with powers to grant your wish, but for that to happen, a sacrifice will be taken from the wisher. Just like the whole, ‘be careful what you wish for’ thing. Another story that comes to mind is Charles Dickens’s “The Signal-man.” This one also has one amazing twist. The signal-man keeps on thinking of what the ghost was warning him of, like what danger on the railways is going to happen, and when. It turns out, the warning was for his life, with everything the ghost showed him happening to him. Where would literature be if there were no authors to write them? Especially authors who can think of ways to write things that would help us people understand the value of life? One thing I learned about authors is that they can make good stories especially when they have experienced the things they are writing. For me, Hwang Sun Won is one of the greatest Korean authors, because his stories are so catchy, very interesting. And despite his stories’ settings being during the Japanese time in Korea, people can still relate to his work. And that is because, I think, the issues or ideas in his stories always exists, even up to now. Another author I like is Yi Mun Yol. One thing they have in common is their knowledge of the effects of war on people. Revelation of Culture Ceremony
Things Fall Apart “The word he chose to express ‘fragile’ was filled with the intricacies of a continuing process, and with a strength inherent in spider webs woven across paths through sand hills where early in the morning the sun becomes entangled in each filament of web. It took a long time to explain the fragility and intricacy because no word exists alone, and the reason for choosing each word had to be explained with a story about why it must be said this certain way. That was the responsibility that went with being human, old Ku'oosh said, the story behind each word must be told so there could be no mistake in the meaning of what had been said; and this demanded great patience and love.” “’Thank you for the kola. You may have heard of the title I intend to take shortly.’
having spoken plainly so far, Okoye said the next half a dozen sentences in proverbs. Among the Ibo the art of conversation is regarded very highly, and proverbs are the palm oil with which words are eaten. Okoye was a great talker and he spoke for a long time, skirting round the subject and then hitting it finally. in short, he was asking Unoka to return the two hundred cowries he had borrowed from him more than two years before.”
One thing I like about world literature is that, other than the lessons I learn from the story, with the characters’ actions toward conflicts and the events that could lead to those conflicts, it helps me learn and appreciate cultures of other countries, from their behavior to their religion, from their traditions to their beliefs. One book I liked a lot is Chinua Achebe’s “Things Fall Apart.” I learned from the book the different values of the Ibo people of Africa, how they deal with their daily lives and conflicts they face. Another story I have read that reveals some things about the culture of a group of people is Leslie Marmon Silko’s “The Ceremony.” This story, though almost recent in its setting, which is after World War II, showed me traditions of American Indians, like how they believe in magic powers and how they worship nature more than anything else. it is about a Native American trying to find a way to cure himself of his emotional sickness. For me, reading literature from different parts of the world is a great way to learn about that country’s traditions and culture. Thank you for viewing... Hope you had a good time!! Achebe, Chinua. “Things Fall Apart.” New York: Anchor Books, 1994
De Cervantes, Miguel. “Don Quixote.” http://www.fullbooks.com/Don-Quixote.html. 23 April 2010
“Deep River.” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Deep_River_(song). 21 April 2010. 22 April 2010
Dickens, Charles. “The Signal-man.” http://books.mirror.org/dickens/signalman/index.html. 21 April 2010
Dinesen, Isak. “The Ring.” Modern World Literature. Austin: Holt, Rineheart, and Winston. 82-87
George, Nicole. “A Fantasy World.” http://www.netpoets.com/poems/society/0293001.htm. 22 April 2010
Henry, O. “The Ransom of Red Chief.” http://www.online-literature.com/donne/1041/. 23 April 2010
Hwang, Sun-won. “Cranes.” Modern World Literature. Austin: Holt, Rineheart, and Winston. 270-73
Ibsen, Henrik. “A Doll’s House.” http://www.fullbooks.com/A-Doll-s-House.html. 23 April 2010
Jacobs, WW. “The Monkey’s Paw.” http://www.fullbooks.com/The-Monkey-s-Paw.html. 21 April 2010
Kafka, Franz. “The Metamorphosis.” Modern World Literature. Austin: Holt, Rineheart, and Winston. 22-58
King, Martin Luther, Jr. “I Have A Dream.” http://www.usconstitution.net/dream.html. 23 April 2010
Fitzgerald, F. Scott. “The Great Gatsby.” Korea: YBM. 2006
Frost, Robert. “Mending Wall.” http://poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15719. 22 April 2010
Shakespeare, William. “Hamlet.” Introduction to Shakespeare. USA: McDougal Little (2003). 476-631
Shakespeare, William. “Macbeth.” http://shakespeare.mit.edu/macbeth/full.html. 21 April 2010
Silko, Leslie Marmon. “Ceremony.” http://www.sparknotes.com/lit/ceremony/summary.html. 27 April 2010
"Swing Low Sweet Chariot." http://lullabies.adoption.com/parenting/swing-low-sweet-chariot.html. 22 April 2010
Truth, Sojourner. “Ain’t I A Woman?” http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/mod/sojtruth-woman.html. 23 April 2010
Yi, Mun-yol. "The Poet." http://hompi.sogang.ac.kr/anthony/Poet.htm. 21 April 2010
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