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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Essay on Customer Service - 9174 Words

Customer Service 1) An investigation has taken place into the customer service practices of Sainsbury Supermarket, the investigation will show the following, 2)  · It will identify and describe the different types of customers and their needs,  · It will identify and analyse the skills required in customer service.  · How has sainsbury incorporated consumer protection into its customer service policy.  · It will also describe how the organisation uses customer service to meet customer needs as well as strategic objectives. The report will show how the Sainsbury Supermarket†¦show more content†¦As seen in the diagram below:- Sainsbury are based on four key principles these are:-  · Commitment to invest in people and to achieved the business goals  · Planning how skills, individuals and teams are to be developed to achieve these goals  · Taking action to develop and use necessary skills in a well defined and continuing programme directly to the business objectives.  · Evaluating out comes of training and development for individual’s progress towards the goals, the value achieved and the future needs. 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Juvenile Delinquency in the States Essays - 1781 Words

Juvenile Delinquency in the States Presently, juvenile justice is widely acknowledged as being in a state of flux in the United States. The early 1990s saw the most substantial rise in violent crime committed by juveniles ever experienced in this country. On the heels of decades of skepticism about the effectiveness of parens patriae (the state as parent), this rise was the proof for many experts who believe that the juvenile justice system should be abolished. These skeptics reason that one criminal court could still have some latitude when sentencing younger offenders, but that kids are now committing adult crimes, so it is time to treat them as adults. Fortunately, this is not the prevailing view. While it is a force in the†¦show more content†¦What I did not anticipate, and in hindsight, I believe I could not have anticipated, was the difficulty I encountered in obtaining juvenile justice statistics on the state level. My first juvenile justice paper was a descriptive one; that was, it was subjective and opinionated. Political Science 402 required a more objective approach backed by empirical data. Researching juvenile justice is difficult for a number of reasons. First and foremost, juvenile court records are sealed. While this did not present a direct imposition on my research, agencies that compile juvenile justice statistics have a difficult task in obtaining data comparable to that which is available on adult criminal justice. Juveniles only become truly media-accessible when they are transferred to adult criminal court, which may be why we hear so much about the rise in violent juvenile crime today. Generally speaking, the American public does not take an interest in crime until it becomes a viable threat. Murderers, particularly young ones who are stereotyped as naive and innocent, are often newsworthy because they feed the paranoia which prevails in our society. For these reasons, I wanted to see if juvenile crime truly is as prevalent and heinous as it is generally portrayed by the media. Crime statistics are divided into many different categories, whichShow MoreRelatedJuvenile Delinquency in the United States1585 Words   |  6 PagesJuvenile Crime Statistics Wendy R Swartz Keiser University Abstract: In this document, the topic of juvenile delinquency in the United States is thoroughly examined. Approximately 1.5 million minors (those are citizens who are under the age of 18) are arrested for criminal activity each year in the US. These juveniles are arrested for a variety of crimes; everything from petty vandalism and loitering to prostitution, drug dealing, and even murder. 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The United States Justice Department defines a juvenile as â€Å"a person who has not attained his eighteenth birthday†, and juvenile delinquency â€Å"as the violation of a law of the United States committed by a person prior to his eighteenth birthday, which would have been a crime if committed by an adult† (Office). The Justice Department also says, â€Å"A personRead MoreUnderstanding Juvenile Delinquency in the United States2225 Words   |  9 Pagesin the United States, there were more than 4,000 arrests â€Å"for every 100,000 youths† between the ages of 10 and 17 in 2011 (USDOJJDP, 2011a). Juvenile delinquency is defined by Webster’s dictionary as â€Å"conduct by a juvenile characterized by antisocial behavior that is beyond parental control and therefore subject to legal action† (â€Å"Juvenile delinquency,† n.d.). 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The Host Chapter 19 Abandoned Free Essays

string(52) " For the first time so far, I told an outright lie\." Who is the Seeker in black? Why is it still searching?† Jared’s shout was deafening, echoing at me from all sides. I hid behind my hands, waiting for the first blow. â€Å"Ah-Jared?† Ian murmured. We will write a custom essay sample on The Host Chapter 19: Abandoned or any similar topic only for you Order Now â€Å"Maybe you should let me†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"Stay out of it!† Ian’s voice got closer, and the rocks grated as he tried to follow Jared into the small space that was already too full. â€Å"Can’t you see it’s too scared to talk? Leave it alone for a sec -â€Å" I heard something scrape the floor as Jared moved, and then a thud. Ian cursed. I peered through my fingers to see that Ian was no longer visible and Jared had his back to me. Ian spit and groaned. â€Å"That’s twice,† he growled, and I understood that the punch meant for me had been diverted by Ian’s interference. â€Å"I’m ready to go for three,† Jared muttered, but he turned back around to face me, bringing light with him; he’d grabbed the lamp with the hand that had struck Ian. The cave seemed almost brilliant after so much darkness. Jared spoke to me again, scrutinizing my face in the new illuminations, making each word a sentence. â€Å"Who. Is. The. Seeker.† I dropped my hands and stared into his pitiless eyes. It bothered me that someone else had suffered for my silence-even someone who had once tried to kill me. This was not how torture was supposed to work. Jared’s expression wavered as he read the change in mine. â€Å"I don’t have to hurt you,† he said quietly, not as sure of himself. â€Å"But I do have to know the answer to my question.† This wasn’t even the right question-not a secret I was in any way bound to protect. â€Å"Tell me,† he insisted, his eyes tight with frustration and deep unhappiness. Was I truly a coward? I would rather have believed that I was-that my fear of pain was stronger than anything else. The real reason I opened my mouth and spoke was so much more pathetic. I wanted to please him, this human who hated me so fiercely. â€Å"The Seeker,† I began, my voice rough and hoarse; I hadn’t spoken in a long time. He interrupted, impatient. â€Å"We already know it’s a Seeker.† â€Å"No, not just any Seeker,† I whispered. â€Å"My Seeker.† â€Å"What do you mean, your Seeker?† â€Å"Assigned to me, following me. She’s the reason -† I caught myself just before I spoke the word that would have meant our death. Just before I could say we. The ultimate truth that he would see as the ultimate lie-playing on his deepest wishes, his deepest pain. He would never see that it was possible for his wish to be true. He would only see a dangerous liar looking out through the eyes he’d loved. â€Å"The reason?† he prompted. â€Å"The reason I ran away,† I breathed. â€Å"The reason I came here.† Not entirely true, but not entirely a lie, either. Jared stared at me, his mouth half-open, as he tried to process this. From the corner of my eye, I could see that Ian was peering through the hole again, his vivid blue eyes wide with surprise. There was blood, dark on his pale lips. â€Å"You ran away from a Seeker? But you’re one of them!† Jared struggled to compose himself, to get back to his interrogation. â€Å"Why would it follow you? What did it want?† I swallowed; the sound seemed unnaturally loud. â€Å"She wanted you. You and Jamie.† His expression hardened. â€Å"And you were trying to lead it here?† I shook my head. â€Å"I didn’t†¦ I†¦Ã¢â‚¬  How could I explain it? He’d never accept the truth. â€Å"What?† â€Å"I†¦ didn’t want to tell her. I don’t like her.† He blinked, confused again. â€Å"Don’t you all have to like everyone?† â€Å"We’re supposed to,† I admitted, coloring with shame. â€Å"Who did you tell about this place?† Ian asked over Jared’s shoulder. Jared scowled but kept his eyes on my face. â€Å"I couldn’t tell-I didn’t know†¦ I just saw the lines. The lines on the album. I drew them for the Seeker†¦ but we didn’t know what they were. She still thinks they’re a road map.† I couldn’t seem to stop talking. I tried to make the words come slower, to protect myself from a slip. â€Å"What do you mean you didn’t know what they were? You’re here.† Jared’s hand flexed toward me but dropped before it closed the small distance. â€Å"I†¦ I was having trouble with my†¦ with the†¦ with her memory. I didn’t understand†¦ I couldn’t access everything. There were walls. That’s why the Seeker was assigned to me, waiting for me to unlock the rest.† Too much, too much. I bit my tongue. Ian and Jared exchanged a look. They’d never heard anything like this before. They didn’t trust me, but they wanted so desperately to believe it was possible. They wanted it too much. That made them fear. Jared’s voice whipped out with a sudden harshness. â€Å"Were you able to access my cabin?† â€Å"Not for a long time.† â€Å"And then you told the Seeker.† â€Å"No.† â€Å"No? Why not?† â€Å"Because†¦ by the time I could remember it†¦ I didn’t want to tell her.† Ian’s eyes were frozen wide. Jared’s voice changed, became low, almost tender. So much more dangerous than the shouting. â€Å"Why didn’t you want to tell her?† My jaw locked hard. It was not the secret, but still, it was a secret he would have to beat out of me. In this moment, my determination to hold my tongue had less to do with self-preservation than it did with a stupid, grudging kind of pride. I would not tell this man who despised me that I loved him. He watched the defiance flash in my eyes, and he seemed to understand what it would take to get this answer. He decided to skip it-or maybe to come back to it later, save it for last, in case I wouldn’t be able to answer any more questions when he was done with me. â€Å"Why weren’t you able to access everything? Is that†¦ normal?† This question was very dangerous, too. For the first time so far, I told an outright lie. You read "The Host Chapter 19: Abandoned" in category "Essay examples" â€Å"She fell a long way. The body was damaged.† Lying did not come easily to me; this lie fell flat. Jared and Ian both reacted to the false note. Jared’s head cocked to the side; one of Ian’s ink black eyebrows rose. â€Å"Why isn’t this Seeker giving up like the rest?† Ian asked. I was abruptly exhausted. I knew they could keep this up all night, would keep this up all night if I continued to answer, and eventually I would make a mistake. I slumped against the wall and closed my eyes. â€Å"I don’t know,† I whispered. â€Å"She’s not like other souls. She’s†¦ annoying.† Ian laughed once-a startled sound. â€Å"And you-are you like other†¦ souls?† Jared asked. I opened my eyes and stared at him wearily for a long moment. What a stupid question, I thought. Then I shut my eyes tight, buried my face against my knees, and wrapped my arms around my head. Either Jared understood that I was done speaking or his body was complaining too loudly to be ignored. He grunted a few times as he squeezed himself out of the opening of my cave, taking the lamp with him, and then groaned quietly as he stretched. â€Å"That was unexpected,† Ian whispered. â€Å"Lies, of course,† Jared whispered back. I could just barely make out their words. They probably didn’t realize how the sound echoed back to me in here. â€Å"Only†¦ I can’t quite figure out what it wants us to believe-where it’s trying to lead us.† â€Å"I don’t think it’s lying. Well, except the one time. Did you notice?† â€Å"Part of the act.† â€Å"Jared, when have you ever met a parasite who could lie about anything? Except a Seeker, of course.† â€Å"Which it must be.† â€Å"Are you serious?† â€Å"It’s the best explanation.† â€Å"She-it is the furthest thing from a Seeker I’ve ever seen. If a Seeker had any idea how to find us, it would have brought an army.† â€Å"And they wouldn’t have found anything. But she-it got in, didn’t it?† â€Å"It’s almost been killed half a dozen -â€Å" â€Å"Yet it’s still breathing, isn’t it?† They were quiet for a long time. So long that I started to think about moving out of the cramped ball I was curled in, but I didn’t want to make any noise by lying down. I wished Ian would leave so I could sleep. The adrenaline left me so worn out when it drained from my system. â€Å"I think I’m going to go talk to Jeb,† Ian eventually whispered. â€Å"Oh, that’s a great idea.† Jared’s voice was thick with sarcasm. â€Å"Do you remember that first night? When it jumped between you and Kyle? That was bizarre.† â€Å"It was just trying to find a way to stay alive, to escape†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"By giving Kyle the go-ahead to kill her-it? Good plan.† â€Å"It worked.† â€Å"Jeb’s gun worked. Did she know he was on his way?† â€Å"You’re overthinking this, Ian. That’s what it wants.† â€Å"I don’t think you’re right. I don’t know why†¦ but I don’t think she wants us to think about her at all.† I heard Ian get to his feet. â€Å"You know what’s really twisted?† he muttered, his voice no longer a whisper. â€Å"What’s that?† â€Å"I felt guilty-guilty as hell-watching her flinch away from us. Seeing the black marks on her neck.† â€Å"You can’t let it get to you like that.† Jared was suddenly disturbed. â€Å"It’s not human. Don’t forget that.† â€Å"Just because she isn’t human, do you think that means she doesn’t feel pain?† Ian asked as his voice faded into the distance. â€Å"That she doesn’t feel just like a girl who’s been beaten-beaten by us?† â€Å"Get a hold of yourself,† Jared hissed after him. â€Å"See you around, Jared.† Jared didn’t relax for a long time after Ian left; he paced for a while, back and forth in front of the cave, and then sat on the mat, blocking my light, and muttered incomprehensibly to himself. I gave up waiting for him to fall asleep, and stretched out as well as I could on the bowl-like floor. He jumped when my movement made noise, and then started muttering to himself again. â€Å"Guilty,† he grumbled in scathing tones. â€Å"Letting it get to him. Just like Jeb, like Jamie. Can’t let this go on. Stupid to let it live.† Goose bumps rose on my arms, but I tried to ignore them. If I panicked every time he thought about killing me, I’d never have a moment’s peace. I turned onto my stomach to bend my spine in the other direction, and he jerked again and then lapsed into silence. I was sure he was still brooding when I finally drifted to sleep. When I woke up, Jared was sitting on the mat where I could see him, elbows on knees, his head leaning against one fist. I didn’t feel as if I’d slept more than an hour or two, but I was too sore to try to go back to sleep right away. Instead, I fretted about Ian’s visit, worrying that Jared would work even harder to keep me secluded after Ian’s strange reaction. Why couldn’t Ian have kept his mouth shut about feeling guilty? If he knew he was capable of guilt, why did he go around strangling people in the first place? Melanie was irritated with Ian, too, and nervous about the outcome of his qualms. Our worries were interrupted after just a few minutes. â€Å"‘S just me,† I heard Jeb call. â€Å"Don’t get worked up.† Jared cocked the gun. â€Å"Go ahead and shoot me, kid. Go ahead.† The sound of Jeb’s voice got closer with every word. Jared sighed and put the gun down. â€Å"Please leave.† â€Å"Need to talk to you,† Jeb said, huffing as he sat down across from Jared. â€Å"Hey, there,† he said in my direction, nodding. â€Å"You know how much I hate that,† Jared muttered. â€Å"Yep.† â€Å"Ian already told me about the Seekers -â€Å" â€Å"I know. I was just talkin’ with him about it.† â€Å"Great. Then what do you want?† â€Å"Not so much what I want. It’s what everybody needs. We’re running low on just about everything. We need a real comprehensive supply run.† â€Å"Oh,† Jared muttered; this topic was not what he’d been tensed for. After a short pause he said, â€Å"Send Kyle.† â€Å"Okay,† Jeb said easily, bracing himself against the wall to rise again. Jared sighed. It seemed his suggestion had been a bluff. He folded as soon as Jeb took him up on it. â€Å"No. Not Kyle. He’s too†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Jeb chuckled. â€Å"Almost got us in some real hot water the last time he was out alone, didn’t he? Not one to think things through. Ian, then?† â€Å"He thinks things through too much.† â€Å"Brandt?† â€Å"He’s no good for the long trips. Starts getting panicked a few weeks in. Makes mistakes.† â€Å"Okay, you tell me who, then.† The seconds passed and I heard Jared suck in a breath now and then, each time as if he was about to give Jeb an answer, but then he just exhaled and said nothing. â€Å"Ian and Kyle together?† Jeb asked. â€Å"Maybe they could balance each other out.† Jared groaned. â€Å"Like the last time? Okay, okay, I know it has to be me.† â€Å"You’re the best,† Jeb agreed. â€Å"You changed our lives when you showed up here.† Melanie and I nodded to ourselves; this didn’t surprise either of us. Jared is magic. Jamie and I were perfectly safe while Jared’s instincts guided us; we never came close to getting caught. If it had been Jared in Chicago, I’m sure he would have made it out fine. Jared jerked his shoulder toward me. â€Å"What about†¦?† â€Å"I’ll keep an eye on her when I can. And I’ll expect you to take Kyle with you. That oughta help.† â€Å"That won’t be enough-Kyle gone and you keeping an eye on her when you can. She†¦ it won’t last long.† Jeb shrugged. â€Å"I’ll do my best. That’s all I can do.† Jared started to shake his head slowly back and forth. â€Å"How long can you stay down here?† Jeb asked him. â€Å"I don’t know,† Jared whispered. There was a long silence. After a few minutes, Jeb began whistling tunelessly. Finally, Jared let out a huge breath that I hadn’t realized he’d been holding. â€Å"I’ll leave tonight.† The words were slow, full of resignation but also relief. His voice changed slightly, got a little less defensive. It was as though he was making the transition back to who he’d been here before I showed up. Letting one responsibility slide from his shoulders and putting another, more welcome one in its place. He was giving up on keeping me alive, letting nature-or rather mob justice-take its course. When he returned, and I was dead, he wouldn’t hold anyone responsible. He would not mourn. All this I could hear in those three words. I knew the human exaggeration for sorrow-a broken heart. Melanie remembered speaking the phrase herself. But I’d always thought of it as a hyperbole, a traditional description for something that had no real physiological link, like a green thumb. So I wasn’t expecting the pain in my chest. The nausea, yes, the swelling in my throat, yes, and, yes, the tears burning in my eyes. But what was the ripping sensation just under my rib cage? It made no logical sense. And it wasn’t just ripping, but twisting and pulling in different directions. Because Melanie’s heart broke, too, and it was a separate sensation, as if we’d grown another organ to compensate for our twin awarenesses. A double heart for a double mind. Twice the pain. He’s leaving, she sobbed. We’ll never see him again. She didn’t question the fact that we were going to die. I wanted to weep with her, but someone had to keep her head. I bit my hand to hold the moan back. â€Å"That’s probably best,† Jeb said. â€Å"I’ll need to get some things organized†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Already Jared’s mind was far, far away from this claustrophobic corridor. â€Å"I’ll take over here, then. Have a safe trip.† â€Å"Thanks. Guess I’ll see you when I see you, Jeb.† â€Å"Guess so.† Jared handed the gun back to Jeb, stood up, and brushed absently at the dust on his clothes. Then he was off, hurrying down the hall with his familiar quick step, his mind on other things. Not one glance in my direction, not one more thought for my fate. I listened to the fading sound of his footsteps until they were gone. Then, forgetting Jeb’s existence, I pressed my face into my hands and sobbed. How to cite The Host Chapter 19: Abandoned, Essay examples