For my capstone I’ve created a website to host my work made in Digital Video, as well as a space for my own artwork made in and outside of SLA. The site showcases over 2 films I have made throughout my career at SLA and provides both a backstory on the process of each film and a commentary on my thoughts today. Much of the work was spent gathering all of the videos I’ve made, and going back into the details of each production. The organization of each film and finding out the dates, people involved, and the roles of each member of the team ate away at a lot of my time. After gathering the required information, I began constructing my website with the website builder Wix.com. The site is tedious and provides a complicated interface that doesn’t allow for complete customization, but after a few weeks, I began to get a hold of the program and figure out my overall design. Once I had the basic design of my website, I went back and wrote a brief description for each of my movies, discussing what it was like making the film and my opinions on the movie today. I also included a Creator’s Note page to house my many acknowledgements for the people that helped make the website, and my artwork possible. I am really proud of how the design of the website and the writing turned out.
Below is a sample of one of my descriptions for my movies.
Oct 9th- Media Darling (All American High School Film Festival)
Media Darling was one of the most difficult, but rewarding films I’ve made. In October of my senior year, our school’s production company, Rough Cut Productions, was invited to the All American High School Film Festival Invitational to compete with over 50 other schools in a three day filmmaking competition in New York City. Only twenty kids from our program (including myself) were able to attend and make a film in three days in New York City. The competition was hosted by AT&T and our films had to be about cyberbullying subsequently. For this project, my group put almost all of our efforts into pre-production so that we could film everything we needed to quickly once we got to New York. The train ride and sleepless nights left us exhausted, and of course, nothing about shooting went according to plan. From location debacles to group arguments, this movie made our group become rivals at times and closest friends at others. By the end, our team persevered and managed to make one of the best looking movies the program has ever produced in a very short amount of time. Media Darling made it into the top 8 and won $1000 for Rough Cut. The invitational was an experience I’ll never forget and I’m so happy to have shared it with my production team.
Actors: Cacy Thomas, Declan Zisser, Nat Hilton
Director: Mark Kriegh
Assistant Director: Kate Kopf
Director of Photography: Felix Shafroth Doty
Producers: Felix Shafroth Doty, Zoe Andersson, Lyle Seitz
Writers: Cacy Thomas, Declan Zisser, Mark Kriegh, Nat Hilton, Lyle Seitz, Zoe Andersson
Sound Designer: Juliana Concepcion
Costuming, Makeup, Set Design: Wes Midgett
The link to my final website can be found here: https://zandersson.wixsite.com/website
The link to my bibliography can be found here: https://drive.google.com/open?id=1XsAKHfXDrxnMs6pIR1CuPS3rkAyeOHpf19HpMoJeaCQ
Marianne’s Favorite Cornbread
1 cup of sour cream
½ cup of salad oil
1 cup of creamed corn
1 cup of regular yellow cornmeal
3 tbs of baking powder
1½ tsp of salt
1 small can of green chilies (optional)
1 small jar of pimentos (optional)
Beat eggs in a mixing bowl. Stir in the next three ingredients.
Mix the dry ingredients, add into the egg mixture.
Add green chilies and pimentos, if desired.
Bake at 350° for 45-55 minutes in a rectangular, 1½ quart casserole.
My grandmother's cornbread recipe was one of my favorites when I was young. She is southern, and used to make us homemade mac and cheese with cornbread when we went to her home in North Carolina. The majority of ingredients in this recipe are whole foods. A whole food is defined as, “a food that has been processed or refined as little as possible and is free from additives or other artificial substances”. Eggs, baking powder, and salt are all whole ingredients that have been eaten and used by civilizations for thousands of years. Salt and baking powder are chemical compounds derived from natural mineral compounds. Green chilies and pimento peppers are both whole foods that grow in nature as well. Sour cream, when from cows not treated with rBGH, is also a whole food. Whole dairy is directly from a naturally occurring source and is typically unaltered before consuming. Whole grain cornmeal (cornmeal that has not been degermed) is the kind of cornmeal that my grandmother would have used for this recipe, and one that is also a whole food. Salad oil is a term that can apply to many different oils, such as vegetable oil, canola oil, and peanut oil. This is the only ingredient in the recipe that is not a whole food. Many processed foods have a long list of ingredients that include some type of vegetable oil. In addition to the oils being processed, trans fats, a product of this process is also a type of processed food.
Changing of the Boo
An exploration of male/female expectations in relationships in Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew and She’s All That
In Shakespeare's The Taming of The Shrew, where Petruchio, a wealthy bachelor who will do whatever it takes to find a rich wife, meets Katherine, a beautiful and unmarried, but rude and sharp-witted daughter of a wealthy lord. Bianca, Katherine's younger sister, is the object of every suitor's desire. Beautiful and wealthy, kind and sweet, Bianca has a line of suitors waiting for her father marry off Katherine before they can wed Bianca. Two of Bianca's suitors strike a deal with Petruchio, stating that he will tame and marry Katherine for money, in order to free up Bianca. The girls' father, Baptista, is ecstatic that a suitor has finally arrived to take Katherine, and orders them to be wed immediately. Since the play was released, there have been countless retellings and versions, and many take from the story directly.
The timeless tale of a man conquering and changing a woman who is inherently different is still used in movies today, shown in the 1999 romantic comedy, She's All That. In an attempt to regain status after his popular girlfriend dumps him, a popular high school jock, Zack, takes a bet offered by his friend Dean, wherein he has 6 weeks to make the girl of Dean's choice into prom queen. The girl picked is Laney, an artistic and intelligent social outcast who is known only for her love of art and her glasses. Zack has 6 weeks before prom to turn her into prom queen and reassure his status.
Romantic comedies have always changed the way society perceives romance. From early depictions of romance, such as the works of Shakespeare, love was depicted as something to live, or die for. The dramatic plays included timeless love stories, often with the play's leading man courting and winning a woman's heart. Each heroine is portrayed as the social outcast, out-shined by a more popular female. However, when the hero courts them, the difference is that Katherine is not given a choice. Both Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew and the 1999 romantic comedy, She’s All That, show the differences in male and female roles in relationships. Due to the differences in time period and culture, Laney is able to decide her own future where Katherine is not. Though societal change has made women more able to decide their own future, women being molded to shape the desires of men is still an ongoing theme in romantic pop culture.
"I can, Petruchio, help thee to a wife
With wealth enough, and young and beauteous,
Brought up as best becomes a gentlewoman.
Her only fault, and that is faults enough,
Is that she is intolerable curst”
(Act 1, Scene 2, lines 65-70)
In this quote Hortensio, a suitor to Bianca, is striking a deal with Petruchio. Bianca’s many suitors are anxious to win her, and this can only be achieved after Katherine has been wed. After Petruchio makes it clear that he’ll marry any woman with wealth, regardless of her personality or looks, Hortensio and the other suitors see the perfect opportunity to marry off the cursed Katherine. Despite her reputation as a shrew, Katherine still wants to be married like her sister. Men’s refusal to marry her this late in life is not only embarrassing for her and her family, but also gives her less and less options for the future. At this point, Katherine’s father has no qualms about giving her off to the first man willing to pay a good dowry.
Similarly, in She’s All That, the men of the story decide the terms of the relationship.
In this scene in She’s All That, Zack Siler accepts a bet that he can turn any girl at school into prom queen. Zack accepts this bet after his popular and beautiful girlfriend Taylor dumps him. He becomes eager to prove his reputation to himself, his friends, and his ex. Laney is picked out of the crowd after falling and dropping all of her books and art supplies. It is clear from her presence in this scene that she is a social outcast, and a person who Zack’s friends would never normally associate themselves with. Soon after meeting Laney, Zack sees her fierce intelligence and discovers that she, too, avoids his crowd of friends. The portrayal of both of the central women in the stories show that they are not the type of girl that these men are supposed to go for. Both women do not conform to the expectations of their time and therefore must be changed by the men.
"For I am he born to tame you, Kate,
And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate
Conformable as other household Kates."
(Act 2, Scene 1, lines 291-293)
When Petruchio first meets Katherine, he makes his intentions clear. This quote is spoken in his first conversation with her, making it clear that he is attempting to change her. He uses the nickname Kate as a demeaning expression aimed at claiming her as his own. In an earlier line, she had deliberately told told him not to call her Kate, but he persisted, making the name a symbol of his superiority over her. To Petruchio, Katherine is a possession to flaunt, and one that should behave respectably. Regardless of her features before meeting him, Petruchio believes he can change any woman into the quiet, courteous, and obedient wife that was expected of that time (much like Katherine’s sister, Bianca). Katherine is not given a choice in her taming, nor her wedding to Petruchio, because of the same, limiting expectations.
In She’s All That, Zack imposes a similar change on Laney.
On their first date together, Zack had already begun to shape Laney into prom queen. Though doing it discreetly, Zack drops hints of how Laney could improve herself and her appearance. He does this through seemingly complementary means, like commenting on how beautiful her eyes are, or citing her “potential”. These are all steps towards her becoming the prettiest and most popular girl in school, like his ex-girlfriend Taylor. The second screenshot shows Laney post transformation, without her glasses and long hair. In this pivotal scene, Zack looks at her in awe. This is arguably the beginning of his true feelings for her. Unlike Katherine, Laney goes along with her transformation more willingly, and begins to enjoy Zack’s company after his persistent interest.
The end result of each transformation is dramatically different. In Taming of the Shrew, Katherine is successfully “tamed” by Petruchio after chiding her disobedient sister for not coming when her husband calls her. In She’s All That, on the other hand, Taylor is crowned prom queen, despite Laney’s popularity. After saving Laney from the sexual advances of his friend Dean, Zack confesses that his feelings were real, and they kiss. Though the 1999 film ends on a slightly more modern note, the central themes of deception and change are at play in both productions. Because of his reputation as the most popular guy in school, Zack believed he could turn any girl into prom queen, and his vision for Laney was that of his ex-girlfriend, Taylor. Zack successfully changes Laney into the type of girl that suits his needs, and makes her previously abject attitude toward his circle of friends vanish into love for him. The portrayal of both women shows the dominance we perceive men to hold in romantic relationships, and the level of consideration for the woman’s thoughts and desires.
We sat on the ground together, huddled in front of the large wooden doll house on a Sunday morning, as she carefully placed her Littlest Pet Shop animals together on the balcony. I realized Wylie’s curly hair was getting longer than mine, and how I had seen it grow since it was only a short, strawberry blonde mop sitting atop her head. Wylie’s parents, Becca and Bill, were out on their usual sunday morning run. It had been almost two years since I began babysitting for Becca and Bill, and Wylie was now a bright four year old, eager to go to kindergarten. Most weekends I’d babysit for them on Sunday mornings, and occasionally Friday or Saturday nights. On our Sunday playdates, Wylie and I would blow up the moon bounce in the backyard that Bill’s brother had mistakenly bought full size. My Sunday visits were normally relaxed, short, and sweet, but it hadn’t always been that way.
The job began after my sister, who had babysat for them only two times, was forced to bail out one Saturday night. After my mom recommended me for the job, I met Becca for the first time. Becca is a tall, athletic woman, whose darker, sandy blonde hair was unlike her daughter’s. That first night, their home was being renovated, something for which she apologized profusely. Both she and Bill seemed eager to leave the house and go out, as she rambled off a list of reminders including “if she doesn’t eat the vegetables it’s no big deal” and “don’t let her bring any of the hard toys to bed”. She finished off her list with a warning: “She has been fussy all day, and so she’ll probably whine about us leaving. If she cries, just let her cry it out.” As the couple moved swiftly out of the back door, the tears came rolling.
It was one of my first real babysitting experiences; I had never dealt with a 2 year old before, let alone a crying one. She began to panic, and her cries turned into screams as her parents drove out of the garage and down the long driveway. Her small, red hands were pressed against the glass of the back door, and she peered out, periodically stomping her feet in anger and confusion. I was frozen. I wanted so badly to say the right thing, stop her crying and have her look at me and smile. Becca had told me to let her be, to not give her the satisfaction, but I caved. I knelt down next to her and pulled her hair out of her face. I frantically shhh-ed her and told her that things would be okay. Like I had feared, she didn’t stop there. She yelled for her mother in a language I can only describe as somewhere between Smeagol and the Cookie Monster. I knew I had to do something, but it was my first time babysitting for this little girl and I didn’t want her to see me as the person that comes to replace her parents and yells at her. I grabbed her a paper towel to dry her tears and told her to look at me. She looked up and focused on me for the first time.
“Wylie, it’s gonna be ok. Your parents are going to be home soon,”
She stared up at me with red puffy cheeks and snot dripping from her nose. She asked me, timidly,
“Wiw dey be home befow I go to bed?”
I looked at her, half shocked she said something to me, half relieved that she wasn’t crying. Becca and Bill had shown me where her diapers were and how to put them on, extensively detailed their tuck in routine, and of course they had told me which setting was correct on her nightlight/ white noise maker. I knew that her parents would not be home before I put her to bed, and yet,
“Yes, they will be home very soon.”
With that, we went on with our night. Wylie calmed down and ate her dinner, got in her PJ’s, brushed her teeth, and I read her favorite books to her. By the end of the night, she went to bed peacefully. I thought about what I had said after I had finally put her to bed that night. Why did I lie to this little girl? What sort of person does that? It startled me how quickly I had said it. I was so ready to please her when I wasn’t even supposed to indulge her in the first place. But she didn’t remember my promise, or ask about her parents again that night. I got away with it, and it felt good.
My visits with Wylie carried on that way. I couldn’t count the many times Wylie has been in a bad mood and I’ve told her what she wants to hear, or the times I’ve said words she’d never heard, and most times I give halfhearted explanations that she misinterprets. These aren’t lies, I reassure myself, they are mistakes that will be fixed with experience. Because roasted and cooked are almost the same word, and she probably won't bring up the time she complained about her parents being gone on a cloudy Sunday morning. But my lies run deeper than she knows. Mine are lies born out of awkward encounters with middle school boys, Christmas gifts that I “didn’t mean to open”, and all of the pretzels I got for free on pretzel day. If you ask my old friends or family who knew me when I was in elementary school what I was like, most would say I lied. A lot. My family makes fun of me now for the things I would say to get myself out of obligations or to get what I wanted. In Tim O’Brien’s “The Things They Carried”, he discusses what it means to tell a true story in war. He notes that often times, the real story of an event is not only less interesting than the one you tell, but sometimes, it is less true. At the peak of my dependance, I would tell elaborate lies purely for the attention I received from the story- something that I didn’t admit the reason to until it was too late.
In first grade, I was at a tiny (20 kid per grade) school in Germantown called Project Learn. The school publicized itself as a free thinking, art-centered elementary school. I was a student there since Kindergarten, and the class size was so small that the teachers could truly get to know and love their students. Similarly, the small grade meant that I had the same kids in my class in every year, and we all grew very close. Jane, my first grade teacher, was teaching us about fables one particular spring. We heard, and acted out the tales of Paul Bunyan and Johnny Appleseed as a class. I loved hearing the stories, and my friends and I would always pick the roles that went together in each reenactment. On one special show and tell, Jane asked us to tell the tale of our weekend, like one of the fables we read. Conveniently, I had just gone to a Phillies game over the weekend, and I was eager to tell everyone my tale. Looking back, I have no doubt that many of the children in this circle made up weekend plans or exciting stories, but I was nearly last student to tell mine, and after hearing the others I knew just attending a baseball game was not good enough. I told my class about the miraculous hit that went straight over my head and into the mitt of the man reaching out right behind us. The man saw me, just a row in front of him, staring at the ball in his glove, and he gave it to me. I was quickly persecuted by my classmates, who chided, “That didn’t happen!”, “So where’s the ball?”, “I saw the game and I didn’t see you catch anything”. These complaints were followed by a call from Jane to my parents, wondering about my amazing experience. My dad told her the real story, and she talked to him about me on a long phone conversation. I was ashamed of what I had done, and angry at my classmates for insulting me. When my dad finally asked me why I did it, I couldn’t come up with an answer.
I wish that I could say that that was my last lie, but there were many more, and there probably will be more along the way. The lies I told when I was younger may be the ones that I regret the most, but I believe that stopping now is pointless. The lies and stories I’ve made up have helped shape who I am today, and I can’t help but be at least a little thankful for everything they have done for me. And so when I sit with Wylie at her doll house on a Sunday morning, and her toy dog falls from the balcony and its head falls off, and she is unable to get its head back on, and I see her eyes start to swell, and she looks in search of her mother and asks me,
“When will mommy be home?”
I know what I’ll say.
Technology today has shaped the way humans date. What once used to be written and sent through mail, can now be typed and delivered in less than a minute. Social media gives people the ability to not only reconnect with people who they may have once known, but to meet new people as well. This allows for people to make connections faster and easier than ever before. With the rise of online dating came the rise of online relationships. When online dating sites first gained notoriety, people were hesitant. Throughout the late 1990’s and early 2000’s, opinions and stereotypes formed in belief that online dating was only for desperate people. As stigma formed, people who dated online were looked down upon by the public, and the media. Today, opinions on internet dating have changed. One can rarely watch a show on television without seeing the ads for different sites. An estimated 66% of people in the United States have gone on at least one date with someone they met online. This dramatic change in opinion happened over a very short period of time. The dramatic change in opinions about dating online has occurred because of the popularity of sites like Match.com, and the change in efficiency of our generation’s usage of the internet.
Using the internet to date has become not only easy, but efficient. Since the rise in personal computers in the early 1990’s, the internet has an outlet for all types of information. Today, children born in this time period would be in their twenties. It is no surprise then that the most common age group on both Match.com and Tinder, are twenty year olds. This demographic has been the most accustomed to computer usage since birth, and a part of the most technologically savvy generation yet. According to a study on internet usage today, over 84 percent of Americans are online, as opposed to the 54 percent that were online in 2000. The number of people online has increased dramatically, and more people are beginning to experience all the internet has to offer. This, paired with the popularity in the use of the internet among twenty year olds, is part of why so many young people have turned to online dating.
Match.com is able to attract people of all ages. Though the 25-34 year old age range is the most commonly found on Match.com, the second most common age group is people aged 35-44. This age group surpasses the average age of marriage in the United State (27), and therefore more people in this age range will be looking for a long term partner. Dating offline can be more difficult for someone in this age group. Singles this age may feel the need to skip the chase and settle down quickly, and it is not always easy to find like-minded people through normal methods of dating. Because of the personalization of a profile on sites like Match or Tinder, people are able to cut to the chase and tell people exactly what they want out of a relationship. To this age group, it is also reassuring that Match.com is responsible for more dates, relationships, and marriages than any other dating site.
Marriage is not the only goal for people dating online. Along with websites, apps are another easy and popular method of dating online. Apps like Tinder are known for their ease and simplicity, as well as a perfect mobile alternative to any site. With an app, anyone can carry a night out in their pocket. It has become an easy way for people to connect without strings attached. Though Tinder isn’t only a “hookup” app, it’s casual nature and chat feature makes it less daunting for those who aren't as good at socializing , and less time consuming for someone who wants to cut straight to the chase. In a Vanity Fair article, writer Nancy Jo Sales interviewed men and women in various New York bar scenes, all of which where the majority of adults there were on tinder or another dating app. “I’m on Tinder, Happn, Hinge, OkCupid,” Nick says. “It’s just a numbers game. Before, I could go out to a bar and talk to one girl, but now I can sit home on Tinder and talk to 15 girls—” Men (and women) like Nick are able to chat with many people at the same time, all in the comfort of their homes. Both apps and websites have changed the setting of today’s dates, by conducting conversations online.
It is clear that people have become more accepting of online dating. Though it is now something that many people are unashamed to admit, the results of its popularity have changed the dating field. In almost all urban areas in the United States, young people have access to the internet, a luxury their parents didn’t have. In most interconnected cities, the internet is now a pillar of dating. Whether or not more options lead to greater happiness will be harder to determine, but in the meantime, the popularity of dating online is only expected to rise.
Smith, Aaron, and Monica Anderson. "5 Facts about Online Dating." Pew Research Center RSS. N.p., 20 Apr. 2015. Web. 20 Sept. 2015. <http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2015/04/20/5-facts-about-online-dating/>.
Match.com Fact Sheet 2013. Match.com, n.d. Web. 20 Sept. 2015. <file:///home/chronos/u-65bf3a743848201f5796144590122dc56d5b425d/Downloads/Match.com+Fact+Sheet+2013.pdf>.
Median Age at First Marriage: 1890 to Present. Digital image. United States Census Bureau, n.d. Web. 20 Sept. 2015. <http://www.census.gov/hhes/families/files/graphics/MS-2.pdf>.
Sales, Nancy Jo. "Tinder and the Dawn of the Dating Apocalypse." Vanity Fair. N.p., n.d. Web. 20 Sept. 2015. <http://www.vanityfair.com/culture/2015/08/tinder-hook-up-culture-end-of-dating>.
J.D. Salinger's short story “For Esme: with Love and Squalor” begins with a man invited to a wedding. His first person narration reveals that he has a wife, and they are unable to attend the wedding in order to see his mother in law. Then, suddenly, the story shifts. The man begins to tell the story of how he met the bride, six years earlier. The short introductory paragraph is one of the only chances in the short story where we see into the main character’s personal life. The story uses the man’s short meeting with Esme, and turns it into the main event. Through creating a vague image of the main character, and giving him very little dialogue, Salinger dehumanizes the central figure in his story’s plot and puts the reader in his position.
The story centers around an unnamed man who we are told at the beginning of the story is a member of the army. As he recalls the tale of meeting the girl whose wedding he has been invited to, the reader gets a sense of nostalgia from his memories about that time in his life. He first sees Esme when listening to her choir sing while on military service in London. The man and the reader immediately get a sense of the importance of this girl. “Her voice was distinctly separate from the other children's voices, and not just because she was seated nearest me. It had the best upper register, the sweetest-sounding, the surest, and it automatically led the way.” Through the eyes of the main character, we see his fascination with the 13 year old girl singing nearest to him. Salinger takes an interesting perspective on the events and puts the reader into the story, submerging them into an unknown man’s life. After the concert he wanders into the church tearoom, where the main stage for the story is set.
Once again, he spots the girl he had seen singing from across the room and tells her what a lovely voice she has. Esme introduces herself and the man is surprised to learn how mature she is for her age. As the two talk, a pattern of dialogue begins to occur. “As security-minded as the next one, I replied that I was visiting Devonshire for my health. "Really," she said, "I wasn't quite bom yesterday, you know." I said I'd bet she hadn't been, at that. I drank my tea for a moment. I was getting a trifle posture-conscious and I sat up somewhat straighter in my seat.” Salinger makes sure that the conversation is not centered on the main character, but rather completely on Esme. The narrator rarely ever responds in quotations to what Esme is saying, and once he does it is simply “No, thank you” and “I’m glad”. The only speaking he does with her is prefacing his words with “I said” and not putting himself into the dialogue. Salinger uses this style to put the reader into his conversation with Esme, and to create a connection between Esme and the reader.
As the conversation between Esme and the main character progresses, the main character tells her more about himself. When she asks forwardly what he did before the army, he stumbles slightly before answering that he is a short story writer. Through provoking questions from Esme, the main character is unraveled and his emotions are laid out. “‘I purely came over because I thought you looked extremely lonely. You have an extremely sensitive face.’ I said she was right, that I had been feeling lonely, and that I was very glad she'd come over.” Through his descriptions of scenery and people, it is not hard to tell that he is an inquisitive man. In his chat with Esme, Salinger displays this deftly. He uses her questioning to pry him open to emotion. Although this may be a fact we as readers could have inferred, it is the first time in the story where he adds how he is feeling. This literary guidance combined with the lack of speaking on his part not only makes it easier to sympathize with all parties, but to slide ourselves more easily into his shoes.
In the last portion of the story, the setting is changed dramatically. After finishing their discussion, and the main character leaves the tea room reflecting, the story shifts once again. The narration switches starkly to third person, leaving the reader lost in the story. The main character, now referred to as Sergeant X, is sitting in his bunker in Bavaria several months after his encounter with Esme. “Staff Sergeant X was in his room on the second floor of the civilian home in which he and nine other American soldiers had been quartered, even before the armistice.” The man we once saw in England is now a traumatized nervous wreck. He talks to his bunkmate Clay (referred to as Corporal Z by the narrator) coldly, and shakes too badly to write his letters. The switch from unidentified first person narration and Sergeant X is about the distance from the reader. The shmoop editorial team at Shmoop.com describes the effect taht the narritive swith has on the story: ““This shift creates something of a sense of alienation and distance – we were used to knowing everything our narrator was thinking, and feeling like we were having a conversation with him, but all of a sudden, we're kind of out in the cold.” The man that the reader has become accustomed to and grown to know has been changed by the war in the form in Sergeant X. The switch between the two leaves the reader feeling isolated from the character that we once knew, as well as the story.
Finally, Sergeant X receives a letter back from Esme. The story ends with a short note from Esme telling Sergeant X how she looks back fondly at their talk together in London. The reader can infer that this note saved Sergeant X’s life, yet remembering the beginning of the story, Sergeant X decides against going to her wedding. The story wraps up in a perfect cycle, completing his main character’s development and furthering the symbolism. Salinger displays a perfect example of how narration and dialogue style can change the perspective of a story. The story written completely in third person narration would have completely different context, and the emotional connection to the characters would not be nearly as poignant. For Esme: with Love creates a deep connection with it’s protagonist by putting the reader in his position.
Works Cited for Analytical Essay:
Salinger, J.D. "For Esmé - with Love and Squalor." Nine Stories. Boston: Bantam, 1964. 38-48. Print.
Shmoop Editorial Team. "For Esmé with Love and Squalor Narrator Point of View."Shmoop.com. Shmoop University, Inc., 11 Nov. 2008. Web. 15 Jan. 2015. <http://www.shmoop.com/for-esme-with-love-and-squalor/narrator-point-of-view.html>.
Ok. stop. It’s 11:13 pm. Everyone knows that no good work gets done past 11. Ugh, how can it already be 11:13? It was 9:42, like, 5 minutes ago. 11:13 may be a little late, but late is better than never. And look! I already have a solid paragraph. I’m just four more paragraphs away from a decent sized history essay. And then all I have to do is my lab, then those geometric proofs, and then that english reflection paper… Oh my god my life is a never ending assignment! No, don’t panic, don’t panic. Double space solves everything. *types* There, that looks, longer. Oh, size twelve font, there we go. *types* Is ariel bigger than times new roman? Whatever, times new roman makes it look fancier.
*starts to fall asleep*
What? I can’t go to bed yet, not now. I have too much work to get done. I mean, people pull all-nighters in college all the time right? I just need coffee, or an energy drink, or, or…. That bottle of coke thats been in my room for like a month? *thinks for a minute*
*typing and saying* When.. Does… Coke… expire….?
No, no I need to do this, with or without an energy drink. Lets see, “The collapse of the soviet union…” How did that happen? How can I forget how the Soviet Union collapsed, that was like, the whole unit. I’ve got it, I’ll message someone! Somebody else can totally help me out, maybe even share their paper. Ok facebook, who to message. Not in my class... not at my school… Jeremy’s mom. How can nobody be online, it’s only 11:26. Maybe Jeremy’s mom could- Wait. Ned! Ned’s online! Oh thank you facebook gods. Ned is pretty much the smartest kid in the grade besides that kid I’m pretty sure has been held back a few years. He’s totally gonna help me. Ok, ok:
“hey” No, no. A one Y hey totally sounds like I’m trying to steal his history essay. *types*
“heyy” Better. And… send! Alright Ned, gimme those answers. ‘Seen at 11:28’ He’s totally responding! We were lab partners last year. Hey, we were friends. We would talked a lot in lab about tests and quizzes. He was sweet, he used to offer me gum when he had it. Everyone thought he was into me, he probably was. He would even let me look at his homework when I needed to. Then why is it taking him so long to respond? I guess I don’t have that many classes with him now but… Is that who I am now? That girl that asks for other people’s homework? It was totally Jessica Stein last year. When she was at a desk next to you, everyone knew you were screwed. It was the fact that she was shameless about it, though. It was so casual, sometimes she’d just give a you this slight glance in your general direction, and you knew what she wanted. It got to the point where people avoided sitting next to her in a classroom setting. I’m pretty sure she transferred this year, actually.
Oh god. I’m totally the new Jessica Stein. When given the choice, people never sit next to me. It’s a spiral! I don’t do one thing and then I have to do it the next day on top of the 3 other things I was just assigned. It’s just more and more and more and more and… No wonder he isn’t responding, Ned probably hates me for begging him for work and thinks I’m pathetic. I’m probably worse than Jessica in his eyes. *takes breath*
Stop with the pity party, he’s gonna respond. And hey, If he responds quickly enough, maybe I’ll have enough time to finish my homework up tonight. Maybe I’ll finally get it all out of the way. Maybe… Maybe I’ll start writing my work down, or putting it in a planner. Maybe I can do my work right when I get home, instead of putting it off, and off. Maybe I’ll go to bed earlier, I’ll probably get more sleep. Maybe I’ll walk to school, yeah! I’m only like a mile away, I could use the exercise. I can get one of those apps that blocks facebook- No- I’ll get an app that blocks the internet. My work time is my work time, I don’t need the internet to distract me. And then, maybe I can-‘Ned is offline’
“Stop it!” I yelled as my voice was starting to hurt more than my head. My sister laughed and pointed, self satisfied, while my mom cupped her hand over her mouth in a failed attempt to conceal her laughter.
“I’m being serious, stop it, right now!!” In rage, I screamed again in my highest, whiniest voice. Another burst of laughter erupted, and tears streamed down my face.
“Sweetie, I’m sorry, Its just difficult to take you seriously sometimes when you are screaming in such a high voice,” My mom laughed and I backed away.
“ I can’t control my voice!” I yelled in a final attempt, and stormed out of the living room.
Though I don’t anymore, when I was young, I had a very high pitched voice. I was always aware of this when I was little, and more often that not, my voice didn’t matter too much for me. As a little girl, having a voice like mine, along with being shorter than average, was considered cute to my peers. I learned this quickly, and I tried to use it to my advantage.
In kindergarten, pretzel day was the highlight of our school week. On thursdays, our teacher would send us downstairs to a makeshift pretzel stand that the 5th graders ran. Everyone was ecstatic and we would run down to get the first spot in line. Pretzels were only fifty cents, but I was a forgetful kid. I would always try to remember to ask my parents for pretzel money, but I rarely did. When my friends had no money to spare, I was forced to go up to the counter empty handed. I looked up at the big fifth grader and explained in my cutest voice.
“Pleeeeeese?” I asked sweetly. I remember the girl giving me the pretzel, pulling me to the side and saying:
“Don’t tell anyone, okay?” she smiled as she handed me a warm pretzel. I nodded happily and ran back upstairs. I tried using these techniques on my parents, and they began to pay off. I was manipulative and I knew it.
As I got older, my voice began to change. At age eight I still had a high voice, but it had gotten lower. However, I still wasn’t growing taller and I was easily mistakable for somebody much younger. My so called “techniques” didn’t seem to work on my parents anymore. From years of learning to beg things from my parents or teachers, I seemed to shift into a higher octave when I was pleading. My parents recognized this, and refused to give me what I wanted when I asked for things in that tone. My parents worked with me to stop using that tone, and they would try to alert me when I was doing it. My dad would note my deviousness by saying:
“Zoe you are using your little voice” As an eight year old, this made me angry. Many times I shifted into this voice unintentionally, and I believed I could not control it. When my parents told me otherwise, I would get angry and try to explain to them that it was simply the way I spoke. Ultimately, my high voice became even more common, now happening when I was begging and upset.
By age ten, my high voice had become a part of who I was. My best friends even began to recognize when I went higher. In my family my voice was still present. At that time, our house only had one desktop computer that my older sister and I would share. When we didn’t want to play the same games together, the computer was the center of many of our arguments. One spring morning, we both wanted to get on at the same time, but neither of us was willing to sacrifice for the other. I tried to get her off of the computer chair, but I finally gave up after the realization that getting her off of the chair was nearly impossible. I stormed out of the room and told my sister that she had thirty minutes to play on the computer by herself. I waited patiently and watched the clock as I sat angrily in my room. After the time was up, I ran downstairs and into the computer room to find the door shut. I pushed on the door and felt a weight against the other side.
“Brigit, I know that you are pushing against the door, let me in!” I yelled through the small crack at the bottom of the door.
“No!! I never agreed to your rules!” my sister screamed back. I pushed on the door against my sisters weight. Each time I felt the door open just slightly, and then shut once more. I gave one final push and felt a release. As I gave the hardest push of all, my sister let go of the door and I tumbled face first into the computer room. I sat for a moment, too stunned to get up. I soon rose and began to cry for help. My mom rushed into the room and gave me ice for my head. My mom carefully asked us both what happened. When my sister explained that I had tried to kick her out of the computer room, I was furious. I yelled at her to stop talking, but she continued. I was angry, and nobody could take me seriously.
“I’m being serious, stop it, right now!!” In rage, I screamed again in my highest, whiniest voice. Another burst of laughter erupted, and tears streamed down my face.
“Sweetie, I’m sorry, Its just difficult to take you seriously sometimes when you are screaming in your little voice,” My mom laughed and I backed away.
“ I can’t control my voice!” I yelled in a final attempt, and stormed out of the living room.
I ran back into my bedroom and slammed my door. A few minutes later I heard a knock. My mom came in and apologized for laughing at me. She said that she knew I couldn’t control my voice, and in fact that wasn’t what they were laughing at at all. My mom was just laughing about how I was overreacting about the computer and my sister agreed. She said that she couldn’t care less what I sounded like, but when I act immature it is hard for her to take me seriously. I thought about what they said and I apologized to them both for acting immature.
Soon after, I outgrew my high voice. After that argument with my mom, I started to notice when I changed my voice. Age has helped me realized how silly my arguments with my sister were. I know now that using my high voice turned into a subconscious way for my brain to get what I wanted, but it did the opposite as I grew up. Though I sometimes still worry about I sound like, I now try to be as candid as possible with my voice. When speaking about language, Mike Rose says in his essay, I just wanna be average: “It is a powerful and effective defence- it neutralizes the insult and the frustration of being a vocational kid, and when preferred, it drives teachers up the wall, a delightful secondary effect. But like on strong magic, it comes at a price.” Oddly enough, I think that having my high voice taught me that there is always a bad side to the good. The price I thought I was paying ended up being the thing that finally made me realize and grow out of the voice I was using. As clever as I thought I was tricking the 5th graders out of pretzels, that bad habit stuck with me, and has made me who I am today.