Youth and Innocence

The soldiers in the field are seen as the adults; the toughest of the tough, but when closely examined, a nation’s youth is found, trapped in a warriors outfit.  Although fighting gruesome battles, and suffering inconceivable casualties the young sent to the field still hold their sense of innocence through the darkest of hours.  In the story All Quiet on the Western Front, the theme of youth and innocence is replayed over and over through the use of repetition to show that the young that fight in the fields never lose their innocence.

Although fighting as adults, the boys who charge on to the fields of war are far from adults, and still hold their youth and innocence.  At the outpost where the soldiers sit, both the actions they commit, and the attitudes they hold show a childlike figure.  High-jinks aren’t above these young soldiers, as seen with their engagements with Himmelstoss, and problems encountered are handled less maturely. An example of these high-jinks is when the two soldiers are asked to empty the latrine buckets, “In spite of ourselves we tripped and emptied the bucket over (Himmelstoss’s) Legs” (25).  Funny, but not an act of maturity.  In addition towards the end of the chapter, a friend of the soldier dies.  He sees the death, collects the belongings and runs.  “My feet begin to move forward in my boots, I go quicker, I run” (25).  The poor soldier runs from his dead friend; runs from the problem.  No one can begin to understand the pain that he felt, but the fact that he ran shows that he is scared; that he wants an escape; that he can’t confront the problem.  The soldiers may be expected to be adults, but the truth is all the soldiers are just kids trapped in uniforms; still young and still innocent.

Jekyll and Hyde 4

Authors Note: I wrote this about how easy it is to slip into evilness. I use Jekyll to show that even the most intelligent people can fall prey to the darkness within.

Jekyll and Hyde 4

Evil is a power we are all born with; the ability to do wrong; the thrill of doing a misdeed.  Many people can avoid the temptation, but for an unfortunate few, this evil is tasted and like a drug, is addicted to.  In the Novella Jekyll and Hyde, the balance between good and evil is portrayed, and explains that even the strongest willed person can fall prey to the grasping forces of evil.

            Dr. Jekyll finds himself in the balance when he plays with the dark side, but little does he know, that when the evil and darkness come out they wish to stay out.  Jekyll’s dual personality was known from the start of the novella, but the reason laid amiss and hidden from view.  It was later found that Jekyll had experimented to rid himself of the evil; the evil which every man inevitably has.  This experimentation lead to the evil splitting into another personality, which Jekyll came to know as Hyde.  In Hyde’s body Jekyll was impervious to morals and could do what every man thinks of doing; be evil; be the epitome of evil.  He tasted the grace of having power and enjoyed the idea of no consequences, but once he had a taste he could not turn away.  Like the fine alcohols which he consumed daily, he kept returning for more, and more, until it was too late.  Eventually Hyde grew too strong; too insane, and that’s when catastrophe struck.  The Murder of a man awoke Jekyll to the insanity of Hyde, but at that point the monster was unleashed and was not going to turn down.  Jekyll knew of his now inevitable down fall and feared it.  Darkness now clung to him like vine on cobblestone; it caressed him and held him prisoner.  He may have only wanted to dip his feet in, but now Jekyll was too deep into the darkness and was now being grasped and pulled down into the abyss.  His curiosity; man’s curiosity leads to the insanity seen today. And if an educated doctor with a sophisticated ken of human intellect can fall prey to the darkness, who’s to say no one can. 

IDK

Authors Note-  Just because…

Jekyll Jekyll Hyde Jekyll Hyde Hyde Jekyll

Jekyll and Hyde 3

Authors Notes: This prompt was based off the actions which took place during Dr. Lanyon’s Narrative.  The response simply shows how knowledge can be a destructive force. 

Knowledge

                Knowledge is one of the most measured elements of the human mind.  With knowledge we find the answers to enigmas which haunt us; and upon solving these riddles, we are then once again reminded of how little we actually know.  But this element of unknowingness is what holds us in balance; there are always things that must be left untouched and unknown, but even with this law in place some give everything just to know more.  In the novella Jekyll and Hyde, This sacrifice for knowledge is portrayed when Lanyon pays with his life to witness the truth behind the infamous Mr. Hyde.

                Lanyon makes the ultimate sacrifice to understand something that was never meant to be.  In the novella it is understood that Dr. Jekyll is the murderous Mr. Hyde, and that through experimentation Jekyll defied god and became something else.  Of course to the people close to Jekyll, this truth seems ludicrous.  Many people like Utterson came close to understanding the truth, but sense the answer was so inhuman, it was pushed to the side.  But when Lanyon came close to the answer he couldn’t just walk away.  After helping Hyde retrieve some objects, a moment came where Lanyon was asked to leave, or stay and be enlightened.  After being asked, he said, “I have gone too far in the way of inexplicable services to pause before I see the end” (101).  This statement is where Lanyon knows too much.  Warned of the steaks, Lanyon presses forth and finds the answer, but also finds death.  He saw the hideous transformation of the Dr. and now must pay.  Much like selling his soul to the devil, Lanyon gives his away for unearthly knowledge.  His sacrifice leaves him bitter towards the end, and leaves him with nothing.  He died knowing the truth which should have stayed hidden; He died knowing something that defied the world, and god himself; He died because he had knowledge.

Jekyll and Hyde 3

Authors notes: A symbol that I found a lot in Jekyll and Hyde was the weather, but the weather didn’t follow the course I thought it would.  This is a less creative piece explaining my view on the weather in Jekyll and Hyde.

The Weather

The fog is unknown; the epitome of mystery.  With in every chapter the unrelenting presence of the fog can be found; typically dwelling in the most faded areas, but this seemingly typical weather stands for a much higher purpose then what may seem.  In the Novella “The Strange Case of Jekyll and Hyde”, the weather is used as a symbol to help portray and give insight on the surroundings, and lure the reader into a feeling of unease or false safety.

Consistently throughout the story, the weather is written in to give a sense of the scene, and a feeling for future events.  The Novella does not hide when problems are approaching; in fact it is quite contrary to that.  The story’s weather will commonly follow a change of scene.  The most typical change occurs when the presence of Mr. Hyde is expected.  Opposite to what would be expected, fog often is not the predecessor to the presence of Hyde, and often it is when Hyde lurks that the clear skies and the bright moon can be seen, absent of fog (Example: “The Carew Murder” “The early part of the night was cloudless…brilliantly lit by the full moon” (59)).  This weather gives both a sense of confusion and a sense of false safety.  When the fog lurks, Dr. Jekyll (Hyde) is not to be found, but as a character, Jekyll is surrounded by mystery, hence the presence of fog in his absence.  The reason Hyde is not followed by stringent weather is because when he is present, he is no longer a mystery.  The monstrosity that is Hyde is visible, and there is no mystery to him then.  The weather reflects the amount of knowledge the reader knows at a given time, and all the reader wants to know is the whereabouts of Mr. Hyde.  The weathers beauty often lures the reader into a sense of safety, but only to bash them back into terror by bringing about Mr. Hyde during the most pleasant of climates.  Although the weather is at times misleading, it parallels the story while giving a sense of unease.

Jekyll and Hyde 1

Authors Note: I wrote this because of Jekyll and Hyde.  The poem is simple and is about how people hold darkness even if they can’t see it.

Jekyll and Hyde 1

Darkness corrodes

And light sustains

But slips to darkness

And never remains

Contrary to thought

May vary from truth

Darkness controls

And that’s the truth

Outside our walls

We see the light

But deep down inside

Nothing gives sight

From behind our sockets

In the soul of our hearts

We find the blackness

And the suffering starts

For Dr. Jekyll

And Mr. Hyde

The darkness is close

No time to hide

But in every one

These shadows dwell

No one can run

From the deeps of hell

-------------------------------

(If you have a stupid sense of humor like me read the next poem)

(Alternate Ending)

Jekyll and Hyde 1

Darkness corrodes

And light sustains

But slips to darkness

And never remains

Contrary to thought

May vary from truth

Darkness controls

And that’s the truth

Outside our walls

We see the light

But deep down inside

Nothing gives sight

From behind our sockets

In the soul of our heart

We find the blackness

And now I must fart

Short Story

Authors notes: In this short story, I attempted to display the fact that one can’t deny their association with their fellow men.  This story illustrates a man trying to hold on to his sanity in a world were everyone’s going mad. 

                Animals rule the streets; Crazed, chaotic, and stupid; all of them.  Luckily I remain sane.  I can control fear, and death is the last thing to fear.  I suppose the news of the end scares people, but craziness can be avoided.  From my apartment I can see them all, running the streets of Manhattan as if survivals possible. All the reports say that “The Cloud” is inescapable, and in such a case I will remain home and drink my champagne as I watch the monstrosities rule the streets. 

                It’s been 11 hours since Asia was last heard.  Whether they are screaming in the darkness or dead where they once stood, no words from them have been received; all because of a storm, which scientists are calling “The Cloud” for clear and evident reasons.  Images have been televised across the world; thick black waves, darker then smoke, and thicker than night’s blackness itself.  Almost like a wave drifting up to shore during a high tide; sticking to the ground.  A mobile wall if you wish. 

DING.  The clock struck one in the afternoon.  Not that I care.  The News said we have until three until the cloud hits Manhattan.  Time to relax, sit, and reflect. 

                Even though I do caress courage against this cloud, I do find myself pondering what’s inside it.  Is it a simple rain storm? Or is it what I expect? Blinding and lethal? Or maybe it’s full of candy for all the girls and boys.   Either way a true spectacle it will be to see it loom over our city and engulf it.

                I look across my living space; smooth white walls and modern furniture; my place of solace.  On the walls hang pictures upon pictures of places and people. My eyes stop at the picture of the Great Wall.  It’s gone now; covered by the Cloud. I grin.

“Guess that wall didn’t work after all.”

Amongst the remaining pictures I spot the one with my wife; a simple women; in L.A for the week with her sister. She probably knows of the cloud to I suppose.  Her sister’s probably spastically crying like she always does; what a stupid person.   Glad I sit in solitude, to enjoy my last hours.

                I now find a dislike arising within me towards the clock.  With its obsessive clicking. Tick Tock Tick Tock. Slight annoyance, but I’ll just tune it out.

                I turn on the radio and all I hear is protocol to remain calm and stay indoors.  Bullshit all of it. Blaspheme.  How would you rather spend the end? Trapped in your house or enjoying yourself?

                Despite the fortune within my household, I find the window becoming more and more interesting, almost persuasive.  People still run on the ground like ants, blind already; blind in the light of day.  One woman falls to the ground and begins to cry. Giving up hope? Balling and holding her kids heads close to her own.  I choke on my champagne a bit.  As strong of a man I am I wish not to see that. I leave the window, but can’t help as I glance back.

                I feel a shower would be nice, warm, and cleansing.  I strip down and walk into the bathroom, shinned to perfection white as ever, slick tile beneath my feet;  The room bright and colorless. The water is instantly warm, and welcoming.  I step in and allow it to flow over me, hitting me, encasing me, holding me tight. I close my eyes and drift off... 

                Peace, serenity; I am enthralled by the warmth…but the blackness is there, in my mind where it grows darker!  Thick black walls moving, spreading, engulfing!  I open my eyes; my heart is pounding, legs stiff.  I laugh a little, but it’s not funny.  Just scared myself a little I suppose, nothing scary about the cloud now is there, regardless I’m done with the shower, I’m just fine.

                My living space seems to be dulling as the day progresses; the white walls now seem to be vanilla in the dimming light.

Ding!  The clock strikes two.  Still time left, no need to fret.

                I walk to the couch where the television stands attentively.  I flick on the T.V but no show appears, just static.  Next channel static.  Next channel static.  Furiously I flicked the remote though the channels, click by click, static after static! Nothing!  This damn remote!  This f***ing T.V!  I throw the remote across the room, and hit the window, which subsequently breaks from the force.  The large window now has a gaping hole, a jagged circle allowing in the noise from down below.  The screams, the cries, the howls quietly wisp through the new hole, luring me back to the window.  I find myself approaching it as someone would a wild animal, slowly, inching towards it. I look down again to see fire.  Cars are tipped; persons lay dead in the street and many still run.  I stood beholding the chaos, mystified, but yet strangely fascinated.  I must look away, attractive though it may be.

                The kitchen is much brighter, safer, and most importantly a distraction from the outside world and the noises below.  I now feel ever so close to the lights; the precious, safe lights.  Still shining as darkness corrodes the earth; reflecting against the white walls and the cherry wood cabinets, elegant and calm, soothing and amorous; humming with a sense of knowledge and order.  I sigh. Long exhale, deep breath.  I need to relax, I still hold my civility.  Then the lights in the room begin to flicker; zapping in and out.  Tormenting me for what feels an eternity until they finally rest, leaving the room in darkness.  The white walls now gray with no light.  The only glow of light exists only from one place; the window.

                I once again approach the window, with no slow of pace.  I watch the people still running; still frantic; clasping under the weight of their own consciousness.  How persuasive the site seems.  I feel my heart pounding, the site driving me; I can’t look away.  Tick.  “What was that?” Tock. “That clock?”  Tick.  “That f***ing clock!” Tock.  “Watching me!” Tick. “Reminding me!” Tock. “Killing me!!!” Tick “Shut up!” Tock. “Shut the hell up!!!!” Tick. “Stop it!!!” I shove the grandfather clock on its side, and stomp on it; stomp on its face; stomp on its arrogance; stomp it too death!  Shattering its legs and breaking its arms, breaking it beyond recognition! The clock now lay broken on the floor, I lurk above it panting like a dog; the hideous murder accomplished.   Swooning, I stagger to the opposite wall, and fall to my knees.  What am I?

                When will it hit? When will it end? I ask as I pace next to the window.  I will die alone.  My wife is gone; my precious, sweet wife.  I love her so, but I can’t say it anymore.  I don’t want to die.  All my friends and family gone, and I will die alone.  A clatter of screams arises on the streets.  I look down, but the commotion isn’t on the ground, rather it’s what is to the east; the cloud.  Worse then I imagined it, blocking out the view as I nears.  Miles away it must be, but from my apartment the vision is all too close.  I stand speechless, motionless, and lifeless in the presence of what is sure to be the end.  It rolls closer savagely.  I scream.  I scream so loud all noise from the world around me is blocked out. I panic.  I wish to run, but there’s nowhere to go.  I am trapped! I run towards my bedroom, slam the door behind me and jump under the covers of my bed; tucking myself under the blankets hiding in the safety of my bed.

I lay here for several minutes knowing of what’s going on outside.  I begin to peel away the covers to look out my bedroom window.  Just in time to see.  The cloud hits.

               

The Cloud