Gradgrind and Bounderby in the opening five chapters Essay Example for Free

Gradgrind and Bounderby in the opening five chapters Essay Explore how Dickens establishes the characters of Gradgrind and Bounderby in the opening five chapters of Hard Times and how he influences the reader opinion of them. The purpose of this assignment is to consider what the author of Hard Times; Charles Dickens in actuality thinks of the two characters Mr Thomas Gradgrind and Mr Josiah Bounderby in the opening five chapters of the novel. Furthermore I am trying to explore how Dickens tries to influence our view on the two characters on our first impression. In the opening chapter, The one thing needful, we start to discover Mr Gradgrinds harsh and unpleasant personality. On the first line Gradgrind, who we dont identify at this stage of the book, says, Now, what I want is, Facts, Teach these boys and girls nothing but Facts, Facts alone. .. root out everything else. This implies to us that Gradgrind doesnt want his pupils to have a single element of enjoyment inside them, and suggest that the children will be sorrowful rather than in high spirits whilst being educated. Dickens also starts to bring an element of gloom into the book for the reason that on the second chapter he starts describing the classroom as prison like, when Dickens give emphasis to the scene by describing it, The scene was a plain, bare, monotonous vault of a school room. Dickens goes on to speak about how the speaker fitted in well with this room, by saying how, The emphasis was helped by the speakers square wall of a forehead, which had its eyebrows for its base, while his eyes were found commodious cellarage in two dark caves, over shadowed by the wall. In chapter two, Murdering The Innocents, Thomas Gradgrind is portrayed and introduced by Charles Dickens. He commences by telling us how Gradgrind is a man of realities and of facts and calculations. Dickens then tells us how Gradgrind would deposit himself as a model citizen. In the same chapter we are introduced to a girl named Sissy Jupe who in Gradgrinds eyes was girl number twenty. She was selected by Gradgrind to introduce herself to him. But instantly Gradgrind is displeased with her after she gave him her nickname, so after a small debate between the two, Gradgrind decided she ought be called Cecilia. After an additional discussion between the two about Sissys fathers occupation, which Gradgrind decided was a veterinary surgeon and horse breaker. Sissy was asked to define a horse. Sissy struggled, so Gradgrind asked Bitzer, a intellectual student to classify a horse, which he did without any problem. But Dickens describes him by telling us, His cold eyes would hardly have been eyes, but for the short ends of lashes His short cropped hair sandy freckles on his forehead and face His skin was so unwholesomely deficient in the natural tinge. We begin to dislike both Gradgrind and Bitzer and favour Sissy because Gradgrind humiliated Sissy and since Bitzer was one of these students full of facts and no fun we feel like he adds salt into the wound. In chapter three, A Loophole we finally get an insight into Thomas Gradgrinds home-life where we are first introduced to his family of five children all models of Mr Gradgrind. We also find out that his house is called Stone Lodge, which was situated one or two miles from a town formerly known as Coketown. We are told that his children are starved of imagination and were bought up on facts and instead of having drawers and cabinets full of the enjoyable fixations children boast, the Gradgrind children have cabinets full of various departments of science. When we finally get to see Louisa and Tom, Mr Gradgrinds Children they are at a circus, since Gradgrind had evidently objected to the principle of fun in the opening chapters in the book, we are drawn into the story when we want to identify how Gradgrind will respond towards his own children who are in a circus. Then when we hear Louisa Gradgrind talk about why she and young Tom Gradgrind came, She said, Wanted to see what it was like. The way she speaks this is almost robotic just like Bitzer from the school. After this question of, why, from Gradgrind, he discovers it was Louisas idea, Gradgrind was even more upset with the pair. At the end of this chapter we hear Gradgrind say to himself, what would Mr Bounderby say as if Mr Bounderby was the equivalent of Mrs Gradgrind? In chapter 4, Mr Bounderby we find out who Mr Bounderby is, Dickens describes him as, A rich man: banker, merchant, manufacturer A big, loud man, with a stare and a metallic laugh. A man made out made out of a coarse material A man with a great puffed head and forehead, swelled veins in his temple. This makes me imagine Josiah Bounderby as a big industry man whose main interest is money as he is after all a banker. But according to him he was born a poor citizen who is a self-made success, and described himself to Mrs Gradgrind as a man without, a shoe on his foot. As to a stocking. I didnt know such a thing by name. I passed the day in a ditch, and the night in a pigsty. Thats the way I spent my tenth birthday. Not that a ditch was new to me, for I was born in a ditch. This may make us feel slightly remorseful for Bounderby. Later on in the chapter we find out that Sissy Jupes father Mr Jupe has ran away, and this is seen as a problem for Mr Gradgrind and Bounderby because Sissy is a student at Gradgrinds School and she has no mother or anyone else really to turn to apart from Mr Sleary the circus keeper. Gradgrind decided to adopt Sissy therefore she could help look after Mrs Gradgrind aswell as become a good student at Gradgrinds model school. Sissy accepted this proposition, all of which made Bounderby upset and in distress over the idea of a teenager who was not brought up on facts will be sharing his lifestyle. At of this stage in the book makes us wonder if Gradgrind is really as harsh as he looks like he is or he is going to use Sissy as a servant to help look after Mrs Gradgind and the house. The writer also turns us against Bounderby because he wont help give an orphan a further opportunity in life and education. Continuing in this chapter we also begin to realise the affections Josiah Bounderby has for Louisa. Even though he admires Tom as he more than admires Louisa, Later on in the novel Bounderby goes on to marry Louisa. So when Bounderby kisses Louisa and then goes off, she grabs a cloth to rub her cheek where Bounderby kissed her, and Tom describes her rubbing her cheek so firmly that shell rub a hole in her face. And she replies by saying you may cut the piece out with your penknife , This makes us think that Louisa doesnt appreciate Josiahs affections. Finally my assessment shows Gradgrinds and Bounderbys personalities are based on facts, but through the story Gradgrind was becoming a better character whilst Bounderby was still depraved. And how he had affections for Louisa and then wanted to marry her later on in the novel shows that he is determined to get what he wants, without the opinion of others.

Computer Culture :: Technology Internet Essays

Computer Culture I registered for this capstone course simply because its description in the English Department course guide intrigued me. I never imagined that the central issues of the course would intersect so often and so dynamically with the postmodern ideas of truth and representation in which I was already immersed. I first articulated (for myself) the differences between oral and literate culture in a post to our class listserv on November 15, 2001. The major difference between oral and literate cultures is the primacy of the word itself. In oral culture, the words are everything; they are performance, they are meaning, and they are central to all understanding and memory. In literate culture, the words have been once removed by the representation of written language; they are now letters on a page. The sounds and actions are lost and the interpretation of language becomes more private and individual. Instead of being experienced, as in oral culture, words are simply absorbed in literate culture. These ideas are further illustrated by referring to Metaphors We Live By, by George Lakoff and Mark Johnson. An obvious focal point of the book, and the idea that my first summary for this class explored, is the notion that the title implies: we live by certain dominant metaphors. This is a function of oral culture despite the fact that we live in a predominantly literate culture. After certain metaphors become commonplace to speak in and with, they begin to transcend speech; they enter thought processes and allow people to not only speak, but also think, in the dominant metaphorical concepts of the culture. The concept love, for example, is structured mostly in metaphorical terms: love is a journey, love is a patient, love is a physical force, love is madness, love is war, etc. The concept of love has a core that is minimally structured by the subcategorization love is an emotion and by links to other emotions, e.g., liking. This is typical of emotional concepts, which are not clearly delineated in our experience in any direct fashion and therefore must be comprehended primarily indirectly, via metaphor. (85) This excerpt from Metaphors We Live By aptly supports the idea that people think in terms of metaphor, and thereby experience metaphor in the structures of oral culture as much as (if not more than) literate culture.

Night World : Secret Vampire Chapter 3

All Poppy could think of was the pretty bald girl inthe gift shop. Cancer. â€Å"But-but they can do something about it, can'tthey?† she said, and even to her own ears her voice sounded very young. â€Å"I mean-if they had to, theycould take my pancreasout†¦.† â€Å"Oh, sweetheart, of course. â€Å"Poppy's mother took Poppy in her arms. â€Å"I promise you; if there's some thing wrong, we'll do anything and everything to fix it. I'd go to the ends of the earth to make you well. You knowthat. And at this point we aren't even sure that there issomething wrong. Dr. Franklin said that it's extremely rare for teenagers to get a tumor in the pancreas. Extremely rare. So let's not worry about things until we have to.† Poppy felt herself relax; the pit was covered again. But somewhere near her core she still felt cold. â€Å"I haveto call James.† Her mother nodded. â€Å"Just make it quick.† Poppy kept her fingers crossed as she dialedJames's apartment. Please be there, please be there, she thought. And for once, he was. He answered laconically, but as soon as he heard her voice, he said, â€Å"What's wrong?† â€Å"Nothing-well, everything. Maybe.† Poppy heardherself give a wild sort of laugh. It wasn't exactly alaugh. â€Å"What happened?† James said sharply. â€Å"Did youhave a fight with Cliff?† â€Å"No. Cliff's at the office. And I'm going into thehospital.† â€Å"Why?† â€Å"They think I might have cancer.† It was a tremendous relief to say it, a sort of emo tional release. Poppy laughed again. Silence on the other end of the line. â€Å"Hello?† â€Å"I'm here,† James said. Then he said, â€Å"I'm coming over.† â€Å"No, there's no point. I've got to leave in a minute.† She waited for him to say that he'd come and see her in the hospital, but he didn't. â€Å"James, would you do something for me? Wouldyou find out whatever you can about cancer in the pancreas? Just in case.† â€Å"Is that what they think you have?† â€Å"They don't know for sure. They're giving me some tests. I just hope they don't have to use any needles.† Another laugh, but inside she was reeling. She wished James would say something comforting.†I'll see what I can find on the Net.† His voice was unemotional, almost expressionless. â€Å"And then you can tell me later-they'll probablylet you call me at the hospital.† â€Å"Yeah.† â€Å"Okay, I have to go. My mom's waitin†Ã¢â‚¬ Take care of yourself.† Poppy hung up, feeling empty. Her mother wasstanding in the doorway.†Come on, Poppet. Let's go.† James sat very still, looking at the phone withoutseeing it. She was scared, and he couldn't help her. He'dnever been very good at inspirational small talk. It wasn't, he thought grimly, in his nature. To give comfort you had to have a comfortableview of the world. And James had seen too much of the world to have any illusions. He could deal with cold facts, though. Pushingaside a pile of assorted clutter, he turned on his lap top and dialed up the Internet. Within minutes he was using Gopher to search theNational Cancer Institute's CancerNet. The first file he found was listed as â€Å"Pancreatic cancer-Patient.†He scanned it. Stuff about what the pancreas did,stages of thedisease, treatments.Nothingtoo gruesome. Thenhewentinto â€Å"PancreaticcancerPhysician–a file meant for doctors. The first lineheld him paralyzed. Cancer of the exocrine pancreas is rarely curable. His eyes skimmed down the lines. Overall survival rate †¦ metastasis †¦ poor response to chemotherapy, ra diation therapy and surgery †¦ pain †¦ Pain. Poppy was brave, but facing constant painwould crush anyone. Especially when the outlook for the future was so bleak. He looked at the top of the article again. Overallsurvival rate less than three percent. If the cancer had spread, less than one percent. There must be more information. James wentsearching again and came up with several articles from newspapers and medical journals. They wereeven worse than the NCI file. The overwhelming majority of patients will die, and dieswiftly, experts say†¦. Pancreatic cancer is usually inoperable, rapid, and debilitatingly painful†¦. The averagesurvival if the cancer has spread can be three weeks tothree months†¦. Three weeks to three months. James stared at the laptop's screen. His chest andthroat felt tight; his vision was blurry. He tried to control it, telling himself that nothing was certain yet. Poppy was being tested, that didn't mean she had cancer. But the words rang hollow in his mind. He had known for some time that something was wrong with Poppy. Something was-disturbed-inside her.He'd sensed that the rhythms of her body wereslightly off; he could tell she was losing sleep. Andthe pain-he always knew when the pain was there.He just hadn't realized how serious it was. Poppy knows, too, he thought. Deep down, she knows that something very bad is going on, or she wouldn't have asked me to find this out. But whatdoes she expect me to do, walk in and tell her she's going to die in a few months? And am I supposed to stand around and watch it? His lips pulled back from his teeth slightly. Not anice smile, more of a savage grimace. He'd seen a lot of death in seventeen years. He knew the stages ofdying, knew the difference between the moment breathing stopped and the moment the brain turnedoff; knew the unmistakable ghostlike pallor of a freshcorpse. The way the eyeballs flattened out about five minutes after expiration. Now, that was a detail most people weren't familiar with. Five minutes after you die, your eyes go flat and filmy gray. And then your body starts to shrink. You actually get smaller. Poppy was so small already. He'd always been afraid of hurting her. She lookedso fragile, and he could hurt somebody much stronger if he wasn't careful. That was one reason hekept a certain distance between them. One reason. Not the main one. The other was something he couldn't put intowords, not even to himself. It brought him right up to the edge of the forbidden. To face rules that had been ingrained in him since birth. None of the Night People could fall in love with ahuman. The sentence for breaking the law was death. It didn't matter. He knew what he hadto do now.Where he had to go. Cold and precise, James loggedoff the Net. Hestood, picked up his sunglasses, slid them into place. Went out into the merciless June sunlight, slamminghis apartment door behind him. Poppy looked around the hospital room unhappily.There was nothing so awful about it, except that it was too cold, but †¦it was a hospital. That was thetruth behind thepretty pink-and-blue curtains and the dosed-circuit TV and the dinner menu decoratedwith cartoon characters. It was a place you didn't come unless you were Pretty Darn Sick. Oh, come on, she told herself. Cheerup a little.What happened to the power of Poppytive thinking? Where's Poppyanna when you need her? Where'sMary Poppy-ins? God, I'm even making myself gag, she thought. But she found herselfsmilingfaintly, with selfdeprecating humor if nothing else. And the nurses were nice here, and the bed wasextremely cool.Ithad a remote control on theside that bent it intoevery imaginable position. Her mother came in while shewas playing with it. â€Å"I got hold of Cliff; he'll be herelater. Meanwhile,I think you'd better change so you're ready for the tests.† Poppy looked at the blue-and-white striped seersucker hospital robe and felt a painful spasm that seemed to reach from her stomach to her back. And something in the deepest part of her said Please, not yet. I'll never be ready. James pulled his Integra into a parking space on Ferry Street near Stoneham. It wasn't a nice part of town. Tourists visiting Los Angeles avoided this area. The building was sagging and decrepit. Severalstores were vacant, with cardboard taped over broken windows. Graffiti covered the peeling paint on thecinder-block walls. Even the smog seemed to hang thicker here. Theair itself seemed yellow and cloying. Like a poisonous miasma, it darkened the brightest day and made everything look unreal and ominous. James walked around to the back of the building.There, among the freight entrances of the stores in front, was one door unmarked by graffiti. The signabove it had no words. Just a picture of a blackflower. A black iris. James knocked. The door opened two inches, anda skinny kid in a wrinkled T-shirt peered out with beady eyes. â€Å"It's me, Ulf,† James said, resisting the temptationto kick the door in. Werewolves, he thought. Why do they have to be so territorial? World. I don't want to break any laws. I just wanther well.† The slanted blue eyes were searching his face. â€Å"Areyou sure you haven't broken the laws already?† And when James looked determined not to understand this, she added in a lowered voice, â€Å"Are you sure you're not in love with her?† James made himself meet the probing gaze directly. He spoke softly and dangerously. â€Å"Don't say that unless you want a fight.† Gisele looked away. She played with her ring. Thecandle flame dwindled and died. â€Å"James, I've known you for a long time,† she saidwithout looking up. â€Å"I don't want to get you in trouble. I believe you when you say you haven't brokenany laws–but I think we'd both better forget this conversation. Just walk out now and I'll pretend itnever happened.† â€Å"And the spell?† â€Å"There's no such thing. And if there was, Iwouldn't help you. Just go.† James went.There was one other possibility that he couldthink of. He drove to Brentwood, to an area thatwas as different from the last as a diamond is fromcoal. He parked in a covered carport by a quaint adobe building with a fountain. Red and purplebougainvillaea climbed up the walls to the Spanishtile on the roof. Walking through an archway into a courtyard, hecame to an office with gold letters on the door. Jasper R. Rasmussen, Ph.D. His father was a psychologist. Before he could reach for the handle, the dooropened and a woman came out. She was like mostof his father's clients, forty-something, obviously rich, wearing a designer jogging suit and high-heeled sandals. She looked a little dazed and dreamy, and therewere two small, rapidly healing puncture wounds on her neck. James went into the office. There was a waitingroom, but no receptionist. Strains of Mozart came from the inner office. James knocked on the door. â€Å"Dad?† The door opened to reveal a handsome man withdark hair. He was wearing a perfectly tailored gray suit and a shirt with French cuffs. He had an aura of power and purpose. But not of warmth. He said, â€Å"What is it, James?† in the same voice he used for his clients: thoughtful, deliberate, confident. â€Å"Do you have a minute?† His father glanced at his Rolex. â€Å"As a matter offact, my next patient won't be here for half an hour.† â€Å"There's something I need to talk about.† His father looked at him keenly, then gestured to an overstuffed chair. James eased into it, but found himself pulling forward to sit on the edge. â€Å"What's on your mind?† James searched for the right words. Everything depended on whether he could make his father under stand. But what were the right words? At last hesettled for bluntness. â€Å"It's Poppy. She's been sick for a while, and nowthey think she has cancer.† Dr. Rasmussen looked surprised. â€Å"I'm sorry to hearthat.† But there was no sorrow in his voice. â€Å"And it's a bad cancer. It's incredibly painful andjust about one hundred percent incurable.† â€Å"That's a pity.† Again there was nothing but mildsurprise in his father's voice. And suddenly James knew where that came from. It wasn't surprise thatPoppy was sick; it was surprise that James had made a trip just to tell him this. â€Å"Dad, if she's got this cancer, she's dying. Doesn'tthat mean anything to you?† Dr. Rasmussen steepled his fingers and stared intothe ruddy gloss of his mahoganydesk. He spoke slowly and steadily. â€Å"James, we've been through this before. You know that your mother and I are worried about you getting too dose to Poppy. Too . . . attached †¦to her.† James felt a surge of cold rage. â€Å"Like I got tooattached to Miss Emma?† His father didn't blink. â€Å"Something like that.† James fought the pictures that wanted to form inhis mind. He couldn't think about Miss Emma now; he needed to be detached. That was the only way to convince his father. â€Å"Dad, what I'm trying to say is that I've knownPoppy just about all my life. She's useful to me.† â€Å"How? Not in the obvious way. You've never fedon her, have you?† James swallowed, feeling nauseated. Feed onPoppy? Use her like that? Even the thought of it made him sick. â€Å"Dad, she's my friend,† he said, abandoning anypretense of objectivity. â€Å"I can't just watch her suffer. I can't. I have to do something about it.† His father's face cleared. â€Å"I see.† James felt dizzy with astonished relief. â€Å"Youunderstand?† â€Å"James, at times one can't help a certain feeling of . . .compassion for humans. In general, I wouldn't encourage it-but you have known Poppya long while. You feel pity for her suffering. If youwant to make that suffering shorter, then, yes, Iunderstand.† The relief crashed down around James. He stared at his father for a few seconds, then said softly, â€Å"Mercy killing? I thought the Elders had put a banon deaths in this area.† â€Å"Just be reasonably discreet about it. As long as itseems to be natural, we'll all look the other way. There won't be any reason to call in the Elders.† There was a metallic taste in James's mouth. Hestood and laughed shortly. â€Å"Thanks, Dad. You've really helped a lot.† His father didn't seem to hear the sarcasm. â€Å"Gladto do it, James. By the way, how are things at the apartments?† â€Å"Fine,† James said emptily. â€Å"And at school?† â€Å"School's over, Dad,† James said, and let himselfout. In the courtyard he leaned against an adobe walland stared at the splashing water of the fountain. He was out of options. Out of hope. The laws ofthe Night World said so. If Poppy had the disease, she would die from it.

The Invisible Cure Why We Are Losing The Fight Against...

The Human Immunodeficiency Virus (HIV) has been a major health concern due to its rapid ability to spread and high death rate. Although HIV can be found all around the world, it is most common in Africa. For decades, both sociologist and scientist have struggled to determine the specific causes that led to the wide spread of HIV in Sub-Saharan Africa. The novel The Invisible Cure: Why We Are Losing the Fight Against AIDS in Africa by Helen Epstein tells her journey as a molecular biologist trying to find a cure for HIV across Sub-Saharan Africa. Throughout her journey, Epstein is able to experience the various problems that the majority of people in the African continent face. The problems that Epstein encounters can easily be fixed, but because of the lack of effective government control in most areas they aren’t. Through cultural, political, and social factors, Epstein depicts the roots of the HIV outbreak and the possible cures that can be found within Uganda’s col lective efficacy. The title of the book is very symbolic because it means that the cure for HIV/AIDS isn’t something that can be physically administered or created in a laboratory like many other vaccines. Instead, the cure has to come from collective efficacy and the spread of accurate information within a society like in Uganda. Uganda’s success in declining the rate of HIV was due to the way information was passed down from one person to another person. Unlike â€Å"people in most African countriesShow MoreRelatedEssay on Alternative Lifestyle in Society2125 Words   |  9 Pagessociety, you start to see why nobody spoke about it in the earlier days. For the record, I am personally not gay, but have gay friends and understand what that might be like to go through. 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