In the story‚ “The Lottery‚” by Shirley Jackson‚ the only point of view used by the author is the dramatic or objective point of view. In this point of view‚ the narrator is an unidentified speaker who reports things in great detail‚ even though the narrator does not play a role in the story. By using such point of view‚ Jackson builds an aura of uncertainty that endures until the dramatic ending of the story. From the beginning of the story‚ the knowledge about the lottery is revealed only by the
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together my group had four meetings and all of them helped us to learn more about the book‚ ourselves as a group participant‚ and as peers. From our group discussions had a greater grasp of the book we were reading. For me I was able to fully understand the underlining conflict throughout the whole book. Without the help of my group I would not been able to figure out the plot or the whole point of the story. Also throughout the story the main character change his view on the world around him‚ I however
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e-structor has written overview comments about your essay in the form below. Your e-structor has also embedded comments [in bold and in brackets] throughout your essay. Thank you for choosing SMARTHINKING’s OWL; best wishes with revising your paper! Hi‚ Gregory! I am Kobe F.‚ and I am happy to read and comment on your work today. I like your choice of Jimmy Cross for your discussion because he suffers the most important conflict between desire and duty in O’Brien’s story. Below I suggest some improvements
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back to the stables with Dave‚ the boy. From there‚ he detached the plow from Jenny‚ briefly pets her‚ and made his way back home. Jenny trudged over to her food of grain and hay‚ and began to chow down. As she slowly ate the food‚ Jenny thought about her life‚ and if it would ever change. She was tired. But not tired of the work she did today‚ tired of the routine. Every day‚ right at sun-up‚ the boy would arrive for another long day in the fields. He would attach the plow to Jenny‚ and lead her
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“Hills Like White Elephants” calls to mind the “A Game of Chess” section of T. S. Eliot’s The Waste Land (1922); like Eliot’s masterpiece‚ Hemingway’s story deals with the sterility and vacuity of the modern world. The boredom of the man and the desperation of the girl reveal the emptiness of the postwar generation and the crucial necessity of taking responsibility for the quality of one’s own life. Hemingway’s characters seem to live in a world without a God‚ without traditions or clear and established
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did you call me for?” Ever since my father had called‚ mum had been very snappy and got frustrated over everything‚ no matter how miniscule. Or maybe it was because in exactly 2 days it was my 17th birthday and we still hadn’t sorted anything out about me getting my P plates or my party that I had planned on having weeks ago. Either way‚ I was sick of all the little bickering arguments that had started taking place several times a day. “What colour balloons did you say you wanted again?” “Um‚ I’m
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[pic] PEN 0055 Essential English Foundation in Law ONLINE NOTES Reading 1 (Short Stories) A Rose for Emily William Faulkner | When Miss Emily Grierson died‚ our whole town went to her funeral: the men through a sort of respectful affection for a |1 | |fallen monument‚ the women mostly out of curiosity to see the inside of her house‚ which no one save an old man-servant—a | | |combined gardener and cook—had seen in at least
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looking out the window at the grey world around me. I was the last to be picked up in the mornings‚ so when the bus made an unexpected stop two blocks from my house I could not help but to look over towards the doors. A tall boy‚ who looked to be about my age‚ stepped onto the bus. He had brown hair just above shoulder length and blue-green eyes that were bright enough for me to notice from my seat. Looking at him‚ it was the first time that I had actually found a guy to be attractive. After smiling
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A Home on the Other Side of the Mirror “Dillon‚ it’s time to go!” His father yelled from his car. His room was the only place left he could think. But maybe that was a good thing. He carried his suitcase downstairs‚ each step seeming like an inch closer to rock bottom. The door slams behind him‚ leaving the sounds of anger to echo throughout the house in despair that his mother might be listening and come running after him. She was gone now though. It had been only a few days since his mother
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A Lost Hope The lights appeared out of the darkness. I heard a soft voice talking to me as my eyes slowly opened and everything was blurred. My eyes adjusted I found I wasn’t at home in my own comfy bed but a horrible hospital trolley. My mom was sitting on a chair beside me her hand in mine and her eyes filled with tears I could tell she had been crying. It had happened again I thought to myself‚ I had collapsed for no reason. My mom explained to me why this was happening and a sharp pain shot
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