The Sun Also Rises

Compared to nearly every other novel that I have been assigned to read over the past four years in high school, The Sun Also Rises, by Ernest Hemingway, strikes a sharp contrast in terms of diction and syntax. I have enjoyed nearly all the great works of literature I have been assigned to read, with the exception perhaps of Beowulf, but now upon exposure to the direct and engrossing nature of The Sun Also Rises, I feel that my highly exciting literary horizons have been broadened further, as if with every drink Jake takes I am reaching for the stars of success. Hemingway’s succinct use of dialogue that manages to capture the essence and eccentricity of his characters amazes me and convinces me that he is one of my favorite writers.
I don’t understand how, but Hemingway in his portrayal of Jake’s love for Lady Brett shatters my heart into a million pieces. Despite the impossibility of a lasting relationship between the two (due to Brett’s promiscuity and Jake’s genital injury among other issues), neither character is quite able to get over the other. Their conversations are often blithe and nonchalant, but rippling beneath the current with desperation. ‘“What did you say?” I was lying with my face away from her. I did not want to see her. “Sent him for champagne. He loves to go for champagne.” Then later: “Do you feel better, darling? Is the head any better?” “It’s better.” “Lie quiet. He’s gone to the other side of town.” “Couldn’t we live together, Brett? Couldn’t we just live together?” “I don’t think so. I’d just tromper you with everybody. You couldn’t stand it.” “I stand it now.” (62)
Hemingway has no flowery declarations of affection. I see no descriptions of scenery and nature in relationship to the characters. I feel like I would entirely miss the connection (and one that feels electric) between Jake and Brett if I wasn’t paying close attention to the dialogue. Throughout the novel, Brett calls nearly everyone “darling” (and this carelessly intimate idiosyncrasy is indicative of her promiscuous nature), but I get the unshakable feeling that, when she calls Jake “darling,” it’s entirely different. Hemingway doesn’t outright describe a change in her tone, but includes miniscule differences in her conversations- with Jake, she seems slightly more tender, more vulnerable. She dismisses other people when she is with him as though they are extras in a movie about just the two of them. Brett is less careless with Jake. She tortures him like she does to everyone else, but I get the feeling that either she doesn’t mean to or she doesn’t want to.
From the start, Hemingway makes it crystal clear that the relationship between Jake and Brett is doomed. He is unable to be what she needs in a man because of his war injury (the war’s consequences pervade the novel) and she seems to be incapable of lasting commitment- her two divorces and countless dalliances with a variety of men indicate a flakiness and insecurity. But their passion is so palpable in their dialogues that I just don’t care.

Devices in The Crucible

After so much discussion of the summer reading novels from 2009, I felt that it was time to return to books that I have read and enjoyed in the past. Arthur Miller, the author of The Crucible, utilizes his literary work as a statement about the nature of humankind and the faithfully unyielding manner in which it reasserts itself throughout history. This statement made about the unchanging nature of humankind is exemplified in Miller’s comparison of the hysterics during the Salem Witch Trials to the suspicion-riddled climate of 1950s America. Miller’s story is rich with rhetorical devices which not only add to a compelling reading experience but contribute heavily to his expression of theme. Arthur Miller in The Crucible employs the devices of metaphor, kenning, dramatic irony, and personification to suggest that people will always seek to fulfill their selfish desires through manipulation of the people and atmosphere surrounding them.

As a means to set the tone of the story and establish the far reaches of corruption in Salem, Miller uses metaphors that appeal to the reader’s pathos and fully immerse him or her in the story’s action. As no doubt several of the villagers are aware and none will admit, the motive behind much of the corruption and accusation is greed for land or power. When expressing what she believes are the layers of corruption in the village, Mrs. Ann Putnam insists, ““There are wheels within wheels in this village, and fires within fires!” Here, she is alluding to wrongdoing, witchcraft; while supporting herself as an innocent. Both wheels and fire can be interpreted as being connected to the sinister practice of witchcraft, as wheels and other circular figures are powerful symbols in pagan lifestyles and fire is more stereotypically associated with evil. Mrs. Putnam uses these images to imply that witches inhabit the village of Salem. The wheels “within wheels” and fires “within fires,” as layers, symbolize the layers of complication of this issue such as the internal struggles for power among the villagers. Mrs. Putnam’s metaphoric declaration reveals her bitterly deep-seated desire to expose as a “witch” the woman she blames for the loss of her unborn children and her capability as an imperfect human to incite paranoia.

Arthur Miller also uses the device of kenning to arouse feelings of fear and illustrate Abigail’s determination to bring her revenge upon Elizabeth Proctor. Abigail craftily manipulates her friends into serving her purposes. Her power over them is first revealed in examining her harried whisper, “Let either of you breathe a word, or the edge of a word, about the other things, and I will come to you in the black of some terrible night and I will bring a pointy reckoning that will shudder you. And you know I can do it; I saw Indians smash my dear parents' heads on the pillow next to mine, and I have seen some reddish work done at night, and I can make you wish you had never seen the sun go down!” Colors in this quote serve as kennings; black represents the dark of night and reddish work is a kenning for violence. The crudity of these kennings compared to the words which they represent creates a more violent and terrifying tone when spoken by Abigail. The girl’s exploitive nature is manifested and one can easily draw comparisons between her self-serving behavior and that of other women in the village (Ann Putnam for example) or of politicians from the 1950s.