Monday, November 30, 2009

Children of the Mind (1-370)

This passage occurs when Peter and Wang-mu first arrive on Divine Wind, after having only communicated long distance previously. They are just beginning to know each other, and have yet to explore the boundaries of their relationship.
She opened her eyes again and strode out into the hip-high grass toward
home. He saw her and waited wordlessly as she approached. Bees
buzzed around her; butterflies staggered drunkly through the air, avoiding
her somehow in their seemingly random flight. At the last moment, she
reached out and gathered a bee from a blossom into her hand, into her fist, but
then quickly, before it could sting her, she lobbed it into Peter's face. [19]
In a book practically devoid of any romantic interest, this quote stands out from the rest. Card spends a paticullarly long time developing the scene, and the imagery is overwhelming. He takes great pains to paint the encounter as a playful one, pointing out the contrast between her actions, youthful and teasing, with the emphasis on the word fist, which symbolically is violent and angry.

Card, Orson. Children of the Mind. New York, NY: Tom Doherty Associates LLC, 1996.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Xenocide (1-28)

At this point in the story, two ships traveling at near-light speed, are attempting to meet and connect. This is a very delicate and precise maneuver that is also extremely dangerous.
The two starships had almost completed their vast ballet, dancing through
space in great leaps.

This excerpt is merely a sentence, yet I was moved by the metaphor. The image of two dancer was very effective in describing the encounter. I could practically see the two ships hurtling through space while time raced past them speeding and turning like two dancers. One wouldn't normally associate giant space ships with ballet, yet it worked.

Card, Orson. Xenocide. New York, NY: Tom Doherty Associates LLC, 1991.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Ender's Game (1-324)

This passage occurs after an important moment in the book, Ender has just fought, and unbeknownst to him, killed, Bonzo Madrid in the shower. Ender, at heart a peaceful boy, regrets being forced to resort to violence to protect himself.

Ender stepped under the water and rinsed himself, took the sweat of combat and
let it run down the drain. All gone, except they recycled it and we'll be
drinking Bonzo's bloodwater in the morning. All the life gone out of it, but his
blood just the same, his blood and my sweat, washed down in their stupidity or
cruelty or whatever it was that made them let it happen. (214)

This excerpt, though short, is meaningful and I can relate to it. Although I can thankfully say I've never killed someone, I have participated in my share of athletic events. The first thing I do after each game is shower. It feels to me as though the running water washes away more than just the foul odor and sweat, it feels as though the water is cleansing me morally. As if the water is forgiving me and giving me a fresh start. I can understand then, why Ender would take a shower after the fight. He wants the water to wash the blood from his hands and let him start over clean oncemore.

Card, Orson. Ender's Game. New York, NY: Tom Doherty Associates LLC, 1991.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Ender's Game (1-324)

Ender's Game is a story about a futuristic military school, where the teachers attempt to create the next leader for humanity's forces from a bunch of school-age children. One such child is Ender Wiggin, Ender has shown exceptional skill and has the potential to be that leader. However his superiors, including Colonel Graff, struggle with the morality of destroying a boy's childhood to make their soldier. In this excerpt, Graff attempts to convince Ender, and possibly himself, the justice behind his actions.
'Then too bad. Look, Ender, I'm sorry if you're lonely and afraid. But the buggers are out there. Ten billion, a hundred billion, a million billion of them, for all we know. With as many ships, for all we know. With weapons we can't understand And a willingness to use those weapons to wipe us out. It isn't the world at stake, Ender. Just us. Just humankind. As far as the rest of the biosphere is concerned, we could be wiped out and it would adjust, it would get on with the next step in evolution, But humanity doesn't want to die. As a species, we have evolved to survive. And the way we do it is by straining and straining and, at last, every few generations, giving birth to a genious. The one who invents the wheel. And light. And flight. The one who builds a city, a nation, an empire. Do you understand any of this?
I knew when I first read this passage, that it would be the quote I used for many reasons. Firstly, this excerpt, an entire paragraph in the book, is the closest thing to a monologue Graff, or anyone has. As such, the sentence structure reflects the fact that it is spoken. The author will write one profound, full-length sentence, followed by two, short sentences to increase the effect. It gives the paragraph, especially when spoken aloud, a sort of swelling feel, as though the text is slowly gathering steam, increasing in power as it goes.

Card, Orson. Ender's Game. New York, NY: Tom Doherty Associates LLC, 1991.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Martyrs' Crossing (50-208)


This excerpt occurs shortly after the border incident, Ibrahim's death has become international news and the Palestinians are rallying around his cause. For their security, the Israeli army has protected the identities of the border guards, and with good reason. Graffiti has appeared all over the country boldly ordering the enraged Palestinians to "find the soldier." Lieutenant Doron has been removed from his position, pending further orders. Everything is in a state of limbo for him. The excerpt takes place in one of the p.r. buildings Doron is visiting, where he will be told what happened to him that night.
She and the rest of them in The Building - all now spending their precious non-coffee break moments going over his dossier looking for sexual perversion or drug abuse or instances of juvenile delinquency - they were the people who killed that boy, Doron told himself. It was their fault, with their long purple nails. Putting Doron on hold, forcing him to call Tel Aviv, making him listen while that computer-generated mouse music played ragtime, and Marina Raad sat there watching him with her iron eyes, her rain-soaked hair hanging down over Ibrahim's like a mermaid's. Doron had been afraid to return her regard. He was ineffectual, she could see that, and the situation was desperate, he could see that. He remembered the end-of-the-world sound of each rasping breath the boy could not quite take. (81)
This quote really stuck out to me because of the emotion behind, Doron is typically a very calm man. Yet in this passage we see the true passion he has for that night, his wall of emotion falls for a fleeting moment before rising up again. In context, this paragraph stands out even more, it is surrounded on both sides by the normal progression of the story, as if Doron's little outburst never occurred at all. For one moment, Doron lashes out and blames the bureaucrats surrounding him, allowing us to see the turmoil raging in his head. This passage allows true insight into an otherwise stoic and unemotional soldier.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Martyrs' Crossing (1-49)

Martyrs' Crossing by Amy Wilentz is an intriguing fictional story set in modern day Israel.  The book provides intresting viewpoints from both sides of the conflict, both Israeli and Palestinian, that reveal the effect politics have on everyday life in the area. Currently in the story, the border to Jerusalem is closed due to a pair of suicide bombings earlier in the day; checkpoints aren't allowing anyone into the city, no exceptions. A small boy close to death, named Ibrahim, is among the mob forming around the border. His mother, Marina tries desperately to get her son inside the city to the medical care he needs. Unfortunately, the guard at the checkpoint lets them through too late. A passage that moved me takes place when the boy's grandfather, George, allows his mind to wander at his grandson's funeral:
Why did the time after death seem so different from the time before birth? You've already managed not to exist quite nicely during the one, he thought. You'll probably get through the other. You couldn't say that one black period was longer than the other, or qualitatively better or worse. But having been alive, you felt somehow a morbid nostalgia for living when it came to flinging the mind forward into the grave. History-dinosaurs, wars, harvest festivals, trilobites, druids, plagues diplomacy, droughts, music, and the like, worms, snails, and starfish-came before birth, full of facts and events. Eternity, empty and blank and possibly unpleasant, came after. (49)
This thought-provoking excerpt interested me for two reasons. Firstly, the question it proposes sheds light on typical human response to loss, why are we so terrified of death? The answer will vary based on a person's religious and philosophical beliefs or lack thereof, it forces you to analyze the way you think. Taken in the context of the story, this passage is incredibly moving.

The second reason I chose this excerpt, is to analyze how the author, Amy Wlentz, decided to write this passage, and the book in general. The setting of Martyrs' Crossing is a hotbed of religion, the book reflects this, jumping from narrator to narrator, from religion to religion. This style allows the reader to see the reasoning behind the actions taken by both sides. The afterlife is a very religious topic, because of this, it may seem odd that Wilentz chose to write this passage from an almost areligious point of view. However if you take the aim of the book into consideration, her reasoning is sound. Martyrs' Crossing attempts to have an equal impact on readers, regardless of their beliefs. This goal is accomplished when religion is taken almost completely out of  the passage. It will be just as effective in delivering it's message to all people.

Wilentz, Amy. Martyrs' Crossing. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2001.