It is one of those things parents and adults do so well: offering words of wisdom. What are the most memorable words of wisdow -- words that you try to live by -- that you have ever received?
Now, review the first three chapters of To Kill A Mockingbird. What words of wisdom have you found in those pages? Are they still relevant today?
Due on or before 7 a.m. Sept. 20.
A lively discussion of life and literature as it relates to topics of discussion in our freshman English class.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Metaphoric 'Mirror'
If you will excuse the pun, reflect for a moment on "Mirror." Who is the narrator? What do you think the author is trying to teach us? I encourage you to enter into discussion with your classmates. Do you agree or disagree with their analyses? Due on Monday, September 10, 7 a.m.
Mirror
I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful-
The eye of the little god, four cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful-
The eye of the little god, four cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.
By Sylvia Plath
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)