AQWF Writing Response 4: The Animal Inside

Authors Note: Throughout the whole 4th chapter, there were sentences scattered all over shedding light on the animal inside each soldier. The way they hold themselves in battle to their alertness to each detail surrounding them, the author portrays animal like characteristics in these men that not only hide in each one of them, but in every human being.

I don’t want to be the prey.

It hurts but I keep pumping my arms faster and faster; slicing through the air like blades. I don’t look behind me—I don’t dare to—just keep my head down, yet eyes up. My face is neither paler nor more flushed than usual, it’s not more stiff nor frightened—and yet it’s changed. My head is whirling with ideas, ways to escape yet all I pay attention to is the sound of the crunching leaves as they connect with my feet with each stride.

                I don’t want to be the prey.

The moment that his first touch grazes my arm and the roughness of his skin while he pulls me backwards from my stride suddenly, tares through my thoughts, my veins, my heart; a tense surrender, a waiting, a heightening alertness, a strange sharpening of the senses. The body with one bound is in full readiness. His thumbs press up against the back of my forearms as he gets ahold my wired body.

I will not be the prey

He presses himself down upon me long and powerfully when he buries his face and his limbs on my body, backing me up towards a tree. Tensing is not how my body reacts. It’s soft and relaxed while my eyes dart back and forth into the cold night.

I will not be the prey.

Whispering in my ear, he takes one of his rough fingers and traces it up my side. Goosebumps rise but not out of fear nor pleasure. Not a moment too soon. The dark goes mad. It heaves and rises inside of me, blacker than his eyes that rush over me with giant strides, over and then away.

I’m the predator.  

AQWF Writing Response 3: The Beauty in Opposites

               It seems that the good always conquers the evil; abolishes it because it’s weaker, dirtier, fouler. But yet, there is beauty in evil. There is beauty in darkness, in selfishness, in immorality. Without the other half, there is no hope of seeing the difference. If there were no selfish humans in the world, there would be no gratefulness towards the giving. If there were no damp, emotionless darkness, there would be no exquisiteness in the souring light. Appreciating the good must come with appreciating the evil.

                Remarque, author of the novel All Quiet on the Western Front, writes in the beauty of opposites. Diving into the great depths of war, he makes sure to highlight the peacefulness of the trees or the soft glare of the sun to make the readers feel even more affected when they hear the harsh descriptions of the war.  At one point he writes, “The earth is streaming with forces which pour into me through the soles of my feet. The night crackles electrically, the front thunders like a concert of drums.” (17). What’s going on in these few sentences is hidden behind the laced up words of soft imagery. Not once does Remarque tell exactly what is going on in but through the differences in opposites, he can portray a very strong and insightful point.  

AQWF Writing Response 2- Expectations

Expectations are hard to live up to. Anyone knows this. But the sidekick to this concept is failure, disappointments, and heartbreaks. No one can see what is to come but everyone wonders about what they can accomplish in the future; what their calling/destiny is. In the novel, All Quiet on the Western Front, the author uses poetic diction to show each and every soldiers disappointment in the expectations they had for this war they are participating in.                  

Beautiful, yet in a saddening way, Remarque portrays a childlike character in each man through motifs and careful choice of wording. The idea of making something horrible sound breathtakingly striking is what Remarque does well in this novel which helps parallel the idea of beautiful high hopes to crushing expectations. One soldier says, “We were still crammed full of vague ideas which gave to life, and to the war also an ideal and almost romantic character”(13). Using the word “romantic” gives off an expectant setting to the scenario while really, there is a bittersweet idea hiding beneath. With the saddening yet beautiful writing of Remarque, the idea of expectations surround the text with an underlying childlike innocence.

AQWF Writing Response 1- Childhood vs. Adulthood Motifs

         When we are young, we live in a world where we feel like we are unstoppable; able to conquer anything that comes towards us because we don’t have reasons to think otherwise. There are no reasons to believe that we will get burned by the hot stove as we inch our 5 year old fingers towards the red glow, or we never expect the outcome of just having our first drink at that party. But when we know the punishments, the scalding of the skin or the probation from basketball, we realize we will never make that decision again. In the novel, All Quiet on the Western Front, a group of young soldiers enter the war with a childlike, mind set of being unstoppable. But when they see what the war is really about they, “ distinguish the false from true, and suddenly learned to see” (6). Adulthood is not a time when you turn the famous 18 years, but is when you grow up; grow up from the view of innocence and protectiveness, because just like the war, life doesn’t a have a forgiving, childlike setting.

Don't Move

I don’t move. It’s not because there is only a foot of space between the two walls of dried mud but because it hurts. It hurts to walk; to barely feel the sickeningly, cold mud squish between my toes. It hurts to breathe; to inhale the stenches of gun powder, haunting smoke, and bitter gasoline. It hurts to hold it in; my feelings of my poor family at home, my three children wondering what their father’s doing right at that very moment.

But that’s the reason why I’m here… right? Yes, of course it is. I would do anything for my country, my leader, my citizens…my family.

As I sit here writing I realize something seems off. I’m surrounded by two men that I feel I’ve become close with since the beginning of this hellish war, but I was once surrounded by four. I just looked up at one of my men and when I meet his depressed eyes, I tare mine away quickly.

Not again. Please no. Not again.

Never mind. I was once surrounded by five men.

I want to go home. I do, but I will never let anyone know. I take pride in the fact that I’m making a difference whether I live failing or die trying. I know that there are people back home that look up to me but what or who do I have to look up to?

Dropping my pencil, I try to look up between the trench walls that surround me. The sky is filled with the ghostly remains of smoke.

I don’t move.

It’s not because there is only a foot of space between the two walls of dried mud but because the dark night lights up with a ray of gunpowder. I don’t move even though men rush around me frantically. Instead of grabbing my gun like all the rest, I grab ahold of the questionable last moments of peace I may have left.

Temptations

Author’s Note: The last chapter of Jekyll and Hyde was a lot of information to take in. While explaining what happened to the warmth of Jekyll that was extinguished by the character of Hyde, the author made sure to keep repeating the temptations of evil that was tickling the edges of Jekyll’s sanity. We all have temptations in our lives that always seem to take over our actions. Whether it is the small temptation to cheat on a math test, just to get one specific answer, or a large temptation to commit murder, we all go through it. We all don’t want to be tempted by the evil or even good, but sometimes, it seems it’s just too hard not to give in.

We don’t want to be tempted

But we just can’t help but give in.

We don’t want to smile

But we give into the laughter

We don’t want to smell it

But we lift the lid to the milk carton anyways

We don’t want to taste it

But we dip our finger into the strange liquid

We don’t want to look

But we just can’t help it

We don’t want to know

But we just can’t help but to question

We don’t want to hurt her feelings

But we can’t help but utter just that one judgmental comment

We don’t want to hit him

But we just can’t help it when he gives us that taunting smirk

We don’t want to cry

But we give into that little tickle under our noses

We don’t want to kiss him in front of your parents

But we just can’t help it

We don’t want the side effects,

But we just want to see what one intake of smoke would feel like

We don’t want to lie,

But the truth always seems to hurt too much to bring to the surface

We don’t want to be tempted

But we just can’t help but give in.

Better Off Not Knowing

                Authors Note: Throughout the whole tale of Jekyll and Hyde, everyone seems to want to know the answers to every question and assumption they have. The problem with knowing the answer is how the reaction unfolds when they know what’s hidden inside the cabinet. They don’t know how to react or they don’t even have a choice but to react unhealthily (literally). This post is a spin-off of what is going on in this story while explaining something very personal.

It was better not to know. The curiosity is awful but knowing what is really going on is worse.

Knowing he has it just like my grandpa had it. Knowing my grandpa didn’t survive.

There’s no way to escape it. No way to get past the power of the heart or the pump of one blood vessel, because when one delicate thing goes wrong, everything could crumble around it.

I had no idea that this was the reason I never got a childhood with my grandpa. I never knew that the disease runs in the family and that any one of us could inherit the gene. I had no idea that it was passed down from my grandfather to my dad.

The nurses say don’t worry. My mom says he’ll be just fine. My dad brushes it off as a joke. But there is no joke here. No laughter in this subject at all.

They don’t know. They don’t know it’s hurting me. They don’t know that I’m scared he will never walk me down the aisle.

They don’t know.

But its better this way.

It’s better not to know. The curiosity is awful but knowing what is really going on is worse.