Useful Links

A+ Research and Writing

http://www.ipl.org/div/aplus/

Tips on writing essays and papers, with step-by-step writing and research info.

_____________________________


Creative Writing for Teens: A Community of Teen Writers

http://www.daypoems.net/nodes/6049.html


"Tips, activities, games, a chat room, and a selection of young authors' works, including poems, stories and lyrics."

_____________________________

KidPub

http://www.kidpub.com


Billed as the largest collection of stories on the Internet; also offers an author forum.

______________________________
Stone Soup

http://www.stonesoup.com


"The beautiful magazine by young writers and artists!"

_______________________________


Young Writers

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/young_writers/

TUTOR LOGS

Student 1


5/19/2010

5:15 PM - 6:45 PM

1.5 hours

- Multiple SPPS Schools, Student 1

Tutoring Subject: Reading

Tutor Session: # _8_ of (?) (15.75 hours so far)

Learning Plan Objective: Summary/Themes, higher order questions

Level in Reading A-Z: 8th
Book Title/s used during session: Prince caspian

Oral Fluency Passage 1 Min. Timing Score: 185 words per minute with only about one error!

Running Record Scores: - She got about 80% of her questions about chapters 7-10 right.

Other Scores/Data:
Supplemental Resources Used: internet summary, questions, and background material for Prince Caspian.

Summary: I gave her a word exercise, and she completed 14 questions within 5 minutes. The rest of the time we talked about, and then read Prince Caspian, about 1/3 me reading, 2/3 her


5/5/2010

5:15 PM - 7:00 PM

1.75 hours

- Multiple SPPS Schools, Student 1

Tutoring Subject: Reading

Tutor Session: # _7_ of (?) (14.25 hours so far)

Learning Plan Objective: Go in-depth with Narnia, Prince Caspian.

Level in Reading A-Z: 8th
B
ook Title/s used during session: Prince caspian

Oral Fluency Passage 1 Min. Timing Score: -None today

Running Record Scores: -

Other Scores/Data:

Supplemental Resources Used: internet summary, questions, and background material for Prince Caspian.

Summary: I helped her a little on her math, then, before reading on where I had her read to from last session's assignment, went into a lot of background material about the narnia series and then read around 20 pages aloud (she read the entire time).


Student 2

5/19/2010

3:30 PM - 5:00 PM

1.5 hours

Tutoring Subject: Reading

Tutor Session: # __8__ of _?___ (13 hours)

Learning Plan Objective: I was happy to hear that X had picked out a library book. I think Narnia is really attracting him to reading, and our reading aloud together is helping his fluency and drive.

Reading A-Z: 5th

Book Title/s used during session: "The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe (brought in by me.)
No higher level comprehension questions today, like usual.

Running Record Scores: - His words per minute score was about the same as last time, mid nineties.

Other Scores/Data - none

Supplemental Resources Used: Just Narnia

Recap of Session - the rest of our session we continued onwards reading C.S's Cronicles of Narnia. I read about 1/4 of the time


5/5/10

3:30 PM - 5:00 PM

1.5 hours

Tutoring Subject: Reading

Student Name: X
Tutor Session: # __7__ of _?___ (11.5 hours)

Learning Plan Objective: Again, mostly reading aloud to increase his fluency and speed; to spark his interest and drive to enjoy literature. Naria seems to be doing the trick.
Reading A-Z: 5th

Book Title/s used during session: "The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe (brought in by me.)
No higher level comprehension questions today, like usual.

Running Record Scores: - today our fluency check contained probably way too many complex or unfamiliar vocabulary words. his score was significantly lower than last session (92), but his overall quality of voice is improving steadily.

Other Scores/Data - none

Supplemental Resources Used: Cause and effect/main idea/positive and negative effect worksheet. Aced the first two, but struggled a little bit with the third part.

Recap of Session - the rest of our session we continued onwards reading C.S. Lewis' Prince Caspian. He read the entire time.

Students 3 and 4 (tutored together)


5/17/2010

4:30 PM - 6:00 PM

1.5 hours -

Tutoring Subject: Reading

Student Name: # 3

Tutor Session: # __4__ of _?___ (5.5 hours so far)

Learning Plan Objective: Sharpen reading skills, focus at our tasks at hand, work on tutor discipline.

Book Title/s used during session: "Mail Man"

Running Record Scores: She read at about 115 words per minute this time, a 14 word increase from last time, but since this fluency test was quite a bit harder, she had a lot of errors because of some complicated vocabulary.

Other Scores/Data - none today

Recap of Session - we did a couple of writing exercises, and then "Y" picked out some short stories from her SES packet, and then "X" read to us aloud and all three of us went through the questions together.


Tutoring Subject: Reading

Student Name: #4

Tutor Session: # __3__ of _?___ (4 hours so far)

Learning Plan Objective: Work on the pronunciation of one syllable words; spelling exercises; focus on our tasks and not distract her sister.

Book Title/s used during session: She worked concurrently with Imani and me on the short stories.

Running Record Scores: none

Other Scores/Data - none

Supplemental Resources Used: A word find that contained some essential vocabulary.

Recap of Session - She was really good for the first half of the day, but lost interest soon after. I let her color a little bit in her color book, but only if she would try to label body parts and clothing on the pictures.


5/10/2010

4:45 PM - 6:15 PM

1.5 hours

Tutoring Subject: Reading

Student Name: #3

Tutor Session: # __3__ of _?___ (4 hours so far)

Learning Plan Objective: Since "X" completed her assessment last session, we dove into some of the materials provided in her SES packet. I had her read to herself a booklet called "Forensics" while I helped her sister finish her assessment. There were some follow-up questions that went along with the reading.

Book Title/s used during session: "Forensics" from SES packet, and "Desert cottontails w/ questions (brought in by me) and we finished "Rosa Parks" with questions (brought in by me).

Running Record Scores: We did a fluency test today, and she read at 101 words per minute with about 4 overt errors and a few self corrections.

Other Scores/Data -

Recap of Session -


Tutoring Subject: Reading

Student Name: #4

Tutor Session: # __2__ of _?___ (3.5 hours so far)

Learning Plan Objective: To get her assessment all complete and get an idea what sort of skills we need to work on.

Book Title/s used during session: Jalaya worked concurrently with "X" and me on the Rosa Parks and Desert Cottontail articles.

Running Record Scores: none

Other Scores/Data - none

Supplemental Resources Used: Rosa parks article and questions/Desert Cottontails and questions.

Recap of Session - It was very challenging to keep "Y" on task today, but she slowly got more engaged as the session moved along. It took a bit longer than I thought to finally complete her assessment, but we got through it. After we covered the articles I brought in, we did some very basic reading (sounding out one syllable words and fill in the blank questions). We need to break "Y" of thinking that she knows Spanish better than she knows English, which she keeps insisting when reading isn't going that well for her.

Native American Project: The Dakota

By Jon Voigt


The Dakota

I chose to create a curricular unit on the Dakota tribe of Southern Minnesota because that is where I grew up and plan to teach. It also seems to me that other minorities have a great precedence over Native Literature and oral traditions in a typical English classroom. Of course the study of literature from African American, Latin American, and many other canons offers interesting and essential perspectives for students, but I see a great need for a more honest and probing study of Native American people at the high school level. Too often people talk about Native people in the past tense, as if they are conquered and gone – but we know that Minnesota was their home long before the Europeans came along, and they continue to live and contribute to their communities still today.

1. The Dakota War of 1862.

• I think that a great place to start talking about the Dakota is a point in history where conflict between white settlers and Native people came to its boiling point. There are so many binary concepts that could be flushed out in a class discussion to find out exactly how different the worldview, values, and cultures of these two groups of people actually were/are.
• This conflict was the main reason that the Dakota were expelled from their homeland onto reservations.
• Charles Eastman was a young boy during this conflict, so much of his life and philosophical development was directly affected. Eastman is an author I’ve featured for this unit.

2. The account of Wenona’s Leap

• Before any honest approach at interpreting Native Literature can be taken, students will need to understand the differences between traditional Western literature and the oral tradition upheld by many Native American tribes.
• Wenona’s Leap was written down by Mary Eastman, wife of Seth Eastman, an Army officer stationed at Fort Snelling in 1830. Mary Eastman immersed herself in Dakota culture, and reading her account is of particular interest because she offers many insights on Dakota myths, legends, and stories.

3. Big concepts

• Colonialism – Without concrete understanding of this word and its implications, students will be unable to fully grasp the grave effect that Europeans had on the Dakota.
• Decolonization – A term with a working definition that won’t be fully realized until the end of the unit. Student essays, group projects, and discussions will aim to gain a fuller understanding of this term (see poster).

4. Life and work of Charles Eastman (Ohiyesa)

• The Dakota worldview is fully realized in the writings of Eastman. I would use selections from An Indian Boyhood, The Soul of the Indian, and From the Deep Woods to Civilization, which are all autobiographical in nature.
• Eastman was also an extremely influential figure in Dakota life. He helped bridge the gap between Natives and non-natives.
• He was the grandson of Seth and Mary Eastman.

The Dakota War


Thirty-eight Dakota people were executed the day after Christmas in 1862 in Mankato, Minnesota, a city about forty miles from my place. This execution was the U.S. government’s response to the murders of white settlers and soldiers during the Dakota War from August to September of the same year. This event marks the largest mass-execution in our nation’s history, but the gravest result of the war for the Dakota was the “expulsion from the land where they and their ancestors had lived since the immemorial past, and, more than that, it meant the shattering of whatever unity the Santee bands had possessed” (Meyer 132).

The word “Santee” is the term for the various Dakota tribes that lived in the area at the time, including the Mdewakantons, Wahpekutes, Sissetons, and Wahpetons. The expulsion of the Dakota spread their people north into Manitoba, south to Nebraska, and west to South Dakota, with hundreds of miles were between them.

I picked up an almanac called Faribault County 1855-1976, a Panorama. Only the first few pages are dedicated to the Native people of my home county, and a particular section caught my attention. This section briefly narrates the Dakota Uprising, saying, “All was fairly quiet for a while, but in August 1862 the uprising of the Annunity Sioux commenced. They began murdering men, women, and children for no apparent reason and often burned homes of the settlers” (16). The colonialist frame of mind that contrived the words “for no apparent reason” made me laugh at first, but only because it is so sad that is how some people used to think and continue to think today.

Big Eagle, a Dakota chief who participated in the Dakota War, was asked thirty years after the war why he thought his people started a conflict with the white people:
“Then the whites were always trying to make the Indians give up their life and live like white men – go to farming, work hard and do as they did – and the Indians did not know how to do that, and did not want to anyway. It seemed too sudden to make such a change. If the Indians had tried to make the whites live like them, the whites would have resisted, and it was the same way with many Indians” (Meyers 116).

CHARLES EASTMAN




In a book called The Soul of the Indian, Charles Eastman, or Ohiyesa in Dakota, wrote “Our faith might not be formulated in creeds, nor forced upon any who were unwilling to receive it; hence there was no preaching, proselytizing, nor persecution, neither were there any scoffers or atheists.” Eastman was born in Minnesota in 1858 as part of the Wahpeton Dakota or “Dwellers among the Leaves,” so had to endure an abrupt move from his homeland in the aftermath of the Dakota War, fleeing to what is now Manitoba, but went on to become a highly educated scholar, doctor, activist and philanthropist (Eastman 154). From what I can gather, Eastman was a poet at heart who loved nature. He was raised in the traditions of the Dakota beliefs and often describes his worldview as one invested completely in nature, and overseen by The Great Mystery.

To me this belief seemed deistic in nature, and I saw it as simply opposing the theistic worldview of Christianity, but then I read Eastman’s account of hambeday, a religious ceremony or retreat that a traditional Dakota youth goes through that “may be compared to that of confirmation or conversion in Christian experience” (Eastman 4). The youth would purify himself in the sweat lodge, then set out for the highest peak in the region to face the Great Mystery. He would stand there for two days and two nights facing the elements, chanting ceremonial hymns without words, and return to the village, never to disclose the vision he has had, unless it involved the public at large. Eastman writes “that solitary communion with the Unseen which was the highest expression of our religious life is partly described in the word hambeday, which literally means mysterious feeling” (Eastman 4). It can also be translated as “fasting” and “dreaming”.

Eastman’s discussion of hambeday and other ceremonies within the Dakota religion made me realize that the Great Mystery, as opposed to the supernatural God of theism and the divine architect of deism, is the manifestation of man’s role among other men, the animals, and the planet itself. But at the same time, Vine Deloria, Jr., another member of the Dakota community, says, “from the earliest times, the Indians believed in a Supreme Being who ruled the universe” and that “the religious code of the Sioux Indians was similar, in many respects, to the Ten Commandments (94). This Supreme Being, called Wakantanka in Dakota, is also referred to as The Above, or the Mysterious One.

In Indian Boyhood, Eastman describes the medicine feast, where “The choicest of the game was cooked and offered to the Great Mystery, with all the accompanying ceremonies” (127). I’ve seen movies where Native American hunters will say a sort of prayer over an animal they’ve killed, and I always thought that was beautiful. It makes you realize how vital the game is for the community. Eastman says that his people would whisper, “Great Mystery, do thou partake of this venison, and still be gracious,” and compares this to a Christian “grace” (127). European Americans at the time tended to treat the Earth as something to be exploited and pillaged rather than a giver that must be respected and kept in balance, and the medicine feast offered to the Great Mystery is the opposite of this attitude.

Colonialism

There are two distinct and important definitions to this term as fit for the study of Native peoples.

The first is that colonialism is an economic system based on extraction and export; the environment is seen as a collection of resources to be used. As times change colonialism has changed into terms such as imperialism and globalization.

The second is that colonialism is a way of perceiving the world. Colonization refers to the events of colonialism, and someone can also have a colonialist worldview. When comparing and contrasting a Native person to a European/American person, students would inevitably see that Native Americans lived with a naturalistic, sustainable, and altogether very different worldview than a colonialist mindset that is separated from the natural world.

Decolonization

Native American writings and oral traditions are bound to question the authority of colonialist ideas, attitudes, and perceptions. Decolonization aims to “undo” the harms of colonialism and open the contemporary discussion of history, culture, and politics to Native peoples by actively including them in the process that has made America what it is today. The United States as we know it wouldn’t have existed without the influence of Native people.

People often speak of Native Americans in the past tense, but they live on and contribute greatly to our communities, so the first step of decolonization is remembering that the ills of colonialism still affect Native people today.

Young Adult Literature Reviews

(A tongue-in-cheek analysis of YA today!)

At the U of M, I took a YA literature class, and we were required to write a series of book reviews for our classmates and peers.

I included this on my tutoring blog because after a few sessions (if all goes well) students who had been "nonreaders" sometimes get a spark of enthusiasm for reading, and this long list of book reviews might be able to point them into the right direction.



Book Reviews by Jon Voigt



The People Could Fly


The single most important element of this collection of folktales, to me, is that the stories are very different than what the average reader is used to. The language is deeply personal, real, and provincial. I enjoyed reading through this collection, but after I finished I realized how much better the stories would be if read by a skilled reader. Most of the stories are powerful because of slight changes in intonation and the rising and falling of varied inflection.

It is sometimes hard to blend genres, but this collection accomplishes this feat with ease. What I mean is that most of the tales are both extremely funny and witty while simultaneously dark and horrific. Unlike Aesop’s fables, in the first half of this book (the stories that are mostly about animals) there really isn’t a clear moral message at the end to sum the stories up. The “meaning” of each story is drawn from the reader’s own emotional attachment to the very human characters and their strange endeavors.

What made this book interesting to me as a college student who loves language, history, and linguistics, is that at the end of each story a brief explanation tells the reader about the story’s origins. I think it is commonplace for Americans to think of African Americans as a group with exactly the same origins, ancestry, and history. To combat this sentiment or overgeneralization, there are stories from different Islands around the globe, stories influenced by specific areas of Africa such as Angola, which is the key source of what is known as Gullah, a creole language which is mostly English, but with a spirited, Angolan twist.

Earlier I described this collection of folktale as one void of any sort of “moral education,” but I guess this isn’t completely true. Many of the stories highlight the characters’ strengths and weaknesses, or, as the magical tales play out, the characters’ heroic, supernatural powers and earthly flaws. Intelligence is probably the most treasured power, and this tendency manifests itself often in riddles or special quests in which obstacles must be overcome. Since anyone – in theory – can have intelligence, from the smallest mouse to the largest animal, many of the tales highlight and celebrate the little guy’s triumph over a larger, and dumber, brute force.

Apart from the charming tales about personified animals, the latter half of the book deals with human characters dealing with very big issues, namely the quest for freedom. My favorite story is called “Carrying the Running-Aways.” Unlike the other stories, this one almost reads like a novel since there is back-story, a flowing narrative that builds all the way to the end, and a basis in the real world. I think I connected personally to this story because it is based loosely on real events, with dates, personages, and events that actually transpired. I love the fact that freedom is placed up on the highest shelf by the characters involved, seemingly unattainable to them but never hopeless. It is an adventure story that echoes stories about quests for princesses, treasure, or undiscovered lands – except the reward sought after is the most basic thing for a human being: freedom.

The next five stories are very similar to my favorite, and share some common themes. All of them involve a particular slave that has a special talent that helps them gain freedom, respect, or other goods. In the collection’s namesake story “The People Could Fly,” I really felt emotional due to the woman’s suffering out in the fields. Especially for a child, the exuberant change that takes place in her soul when she learns to fly far away from the fields is awesome. This collection of folktales is truly suitable from ages zero to 120.

Aesop’s Fables

I love the structure of this book: a short narrative that jumps right into the story, offering just enough back-story and framing to put things into perspective, and then a short, trite, and sometimes humorous moral dictum. Aesop’s fables really are creative stories that show the depths of human folly and the heights of human virtue. Like many of the stories in “The People Could Fly,” these fables are told through the eyes of animals, though some are directly about humans. I really think, though, that even very young children could pick up on how the author has engineered the stories to shine light on the readers themselves, personifying the animals to take on human qualities.

One strength of this book that I immediately took notice of was the comical illustrations that really guided the storyline. Though relatively simple, these colorful illustrations depict the events at hand and afford young readers one more way to make sense of the story. Years ago when I did some volunteer work at Hans Christian Anderson Middle School in South Minneapolis, I got to read some of these very fables to the kids, and a few even in Spanish. The experience was rewarding to both the kids and myself because I tried my hardest to perform the stories instead of merely reading them, and paid special attention to the illustrations, often saying things like “Look at that naughty fox! What is he up to?” The delighted students would offer their theories, sometimes arguing with each other, but in the end this dialogue provided depth to the stories and made them look deeper than the storyline and the curious illustrations.
Another element of this volume that I really like is the history behind it. Like “The People Could Fly,” these stories too were generated at least in part by slavery. He was freed by his masters for his learning and literary accomplishments, and Aesop’s legacy is now 2,600 years old. I think that knowing the history of these tales is important, and in my future classroom I hope that at least a brief introduction would enhance the kids’ experiences with the material.

Even though most stories are probably better when read aloud, I think that this story is perfectly suited to silent reading for any age. Compared to “The People Could Fly,” the language is clearly more accessible, direct, and simple. I am not sure if I read these tales as a child, but many of these stories I feel like I have heard before because I have a suspicion that since they are so old they have become a part of popular culture around the world. Whether a child hears the actual Aesop tale or a variant isn’t important, I don’t think, the moral message stays the same.

I couldn’t help but notice that many of the moral maxims at the end of the stories sound quite religious in nature. This fact is interesting because many of Christianity’s virtues are mere reflections of most other society’s virtues, timeless values that are probably shared by most cultures. As an older reader, many of the story’s messages seem commonplace and perfectly natural and reasonable, but to a developing child this might not be the case, and hence this collection’s power.

Feed


I left M.T. Anderson’s Feed half finished when I was volunteering at Patrick Henry High School in North Minneapolis, and, luckily, the opportunity to finish the book arose from taking this class. I had a scheduling conflict that didn’t allow me to volunteer there when my class of high-schoolers finished the book, but I did get the chance to go with them to hear M.T. Anderson speak about literature while promoting his new book (Feed) at the Minneapolis Public Library. M.T. was an incredibly witty and funny guy, and the students really enjoyed listening to him. It came as no surprise to me that he was a quirky guy since what I had seen in Feed was so delightfully strange.

We actually listened to the book in class on an audio CD, which really contributed to the book’s comical edge. This was especially true for the recurring advertisements that play in the characters’ heads. The audio book’s reader also performed the characters as I think M.T. would have wanted them performed – whiny, somewhat naïve, needy, and fully of futuristic slang. This book lent itself to some awesome conversations about the future, technology, and other science fiction sort of inquiries in my classroom. We talked about Anderson’s comment about how he actually came up with the idea of advertising products directly into a person’s head when he was in New York City walking by a department store: he all of the sudden received a text that gave a preview of the store’s prices and bargains. “Pretty scary stuff,” he said.

Regarding the slang words and vocabulary of the young characters in the book, Anderson described how much slang actually evolves over the decades. When he was young, words like “rad” or “righteous” were hip, but today they aren’t necessarily. He included this formula for his science fiction novel, and I’ve seen students respond positively to this technique.

The two antipodes of the novel are clearly Titus and Violet. Titus isn’t as obnoxiously futuristic as his friends, but he is still pretty clueless and very naïve. He undergoes a significant change when he meets Violet – a girl who would probably fit in just fine in 2009. She is sort of a hippy, free spirit. She is ultra conscious about human’s terrible treatment of the environment, and was even home schooled. Titus, on the other hand, received his education from School™, which is a sort of inter-cerebral University of Phoenix of the future. Violet doesn’t really fit in with Titus and his friends because she doesn’t have the feed, and therefore isn’t a blind consumer like them.

Like any good science fiction book, Feed sheds light on the problems of today. Anderson claimed that even while writing the book some of the futuristic technologies sort of came true. If you use a program like Facebook, for example, it will advertise things according to your interests – just like the feed. Technologies such as Bluetooth and the Iphone are also reminiscent of Anderson’s ideas.

Overall, I really liked Feed because I got to see how students react to it, and also had the chance to meet the author. This is most definitely a book that a person couldn’t just pick up and read and understand the author’s intent. A reader needs to understand that it is satire, but serious satire, and comedy, but a serious comedy that touches on real-life, pressing issues that our society faces.


MilkWeed

Review for Historical Fiction

Jerry Spinelli Milkweed
208 pp. Scholastic ISBN 0-439-67697-5

World War II, despite its unspeakable horrors and degree of inhumanity, will probably always captivate people in some way or another. There are countless books out there to turn to, the History Channel seems to always have some WWII program on, and the study of the Holocaust occupies a significant portion of our kids’ History curriculum, and rightly so. Because one’s suffering can never be fully felt or appreciated by others, when learning about Nazi Germany’s atrocities we must take into account the unique perspectives of the millions of victims, all of which suffered in different ways.

Milkweed employs a curious and appealing technique that offers a unique look into Warsaw, Poland during Nazi occupation because it is told from the perspective of an orphan boy who knows nothing about his family or cultural heritage. Essentially, he is nobody; he doesn’t even have a name. He steals to survive, and thinks that his name is “StopThief” because this is what people call out when he runs away after nabbing some food. The story isn’t told by the son of a Nazi officer, nor by a young Jewish boy; it is told by a boy who doesn’t know he is Jewish, but slowly discovers this fact.

The boy meets another, older boy named Uri, who takes him under his wing and basically educates him about the occupation of the Nazis, or, as they call them, the Jackboots. Uri tells the boy that he is probably Jewish, and gives him the name “Misha” to conceal his identity, along with the made-up story that he is a Gypsy from a large family in Russia. To an uneducated orphan boy, some of the most important events of the 20th century unfold around him and only very slowly penetrate his naïve nature. He sees the Jackboots walking down the street with their guns and shiny uniforms, and even considers how great it would be to be one of them – powerful, important, and well known. It really isn’t until he finally sees this Himmler riding down the street that he realizes he doesn’t want to be a Jackboot, thinking that Himmler looks like a “one-eyed chicken.”

Misha undergoes a significant change when he meets a girl named Janina in the all-Jewish ghetto. Janina catches Misha stealing from her family’s garden, and they become friends. When the walls are finally constructed around the Ghetto, Misha steals food for Janina and her family by smuggling it through a hole in the wall. Misha eventually celebrates with the family’s Hanukah celebration, which is a milestone in his life and full of symbolism. I really don’t want to give too much away because there is a significant amount of suspense towards the ending of the book, but let’s just say that Janina’s family is eventually deported or “resettled”, leaving Misha the decision to act heroically or cowardly.

The book closes with Misha emigrating to America years after the war, where he takes a wife, tries to settle down, but the marriage is ended after only five months because the war had made him have very strange tendencies. His wife is pregnant when she leaves him, and he never sees his family again – that is, until 25 years later when his daughter discovers him working at a grocery store. His daughter has a four-year old girl named Wendy, and wants her father to give a middle name. Without hesitation, he decides to give her the middle name Janina. Wendy, his granddaughter, also gives him a name: Poppynoodle – a name full of affection. He spends his days living peacefully with his daughter and granddaughter, contented but pained by his memories.

The symbolic act of naming someone is a motif in this book. I challenge you to read this book and discover why this is important, and why the perspective of an orphan can tell a complicated story with such clarity, and dare you to find out how and why Misha suffers so much, yet somehow comes to terms with his situation and himself.


Shipwreck At The Bottom Of The World


The first dozen pages or so of Armstrong’s book really captured my interest, and since I didn’t really know much background information about the journey of the Endurance, I didn’t know what to expect, so I read on with an open mind. I got bogged down a little bit when the crew’s preparations and early journey were described, but I couldn’t stop reading when the crew met their first hardships. Many people I know absolutely love true stories, claiming that they are more intense, fluid, and relevant since they have actually occurred. Usually I prefer historical fiction in non-fiction’s place, but this book was different, and is a true testament to the power of the human will.

I said that I was bogged down a little bit at first with the crew’s preparations and such, but since I have traveled to Buenos Aires and Ushuaia (the southernmost city in the world), I felt a personal connection to the enormity of the crew’s task at hand. To me, Ushuaia was a frigid, beautiful, strange, and penguin-laden land that seemed to be composed of dreamscapes. In modern times, Ushuaia serves as the launching off point for Antarctic explorers. Why anyone would want to go any further south than Cape Horn is beyond me, but men like Shackleton are what make adventure stories possible.

Even though this book isn’t technically a novel, page-by-page people like Shackleton, Wordie, Hussey, and Hudson became familiar to me, with their characters, tendencies, and weaknesses gradually surfacing. Armstrong does a good job describing the ways in which the men would entertain, feed, and care for themselves. At many times I could very vividly imagine the crew’s dogs running around crazily, smell the penguin meat being cooked in penguin blubber, hear the men cussing at and joking around with each other, and even witness the despair in the crew’s eyes when things began to look bleaker and bleaker.

I’ve realized that unlike fiction, non-fiction affords the reader with much more freedom of imagination because it forces them to fill in many gaps. Armstrong doesn’t labor over aesthetic detail or use overly prosy language because she doesn’t have to. She needs only to present the known facts and consult all sources available to provide the reader with enough information so that they can compose the story in their mind’s eye on their own terms. I think that without the actual photographs, much of this story’s power would be lost because they offer the reader a jumping off point to this process of imaginative creation. If a picture is worth a thousand words, these pictures are worth ten thousand because no volume of words could possibly describe the polar conditions these men faced, the mountains of ice, the bitter cold that made their breath freeze to their faces, and the miserable yet essential ways in which they had to survive.

I’m unsure if I would have enjoyed this book back in middle school or high school. I have a feeling that in order to really appreciate and enjoy this book a reader has to like at least one of three things: scientific discovery and inquiry, adventure/survival stories, or the sea and its power. Because I am from the Midwest, the ocean will probably always seem foreign and scary to me, but every time I have encountered it I love and respect its vastness and danger. Since I am deathly afraid of sharks and such, the parts where the sailors had run-ins with sea creatures kind of creeped me out. But, all in all, I’m glad we got to read this book because it probably is one of the greatest feats in human survival of all time.

The Circuit


The author – Francisco Jimenez – admits that his story is only semiautobiographical, but this fact doesn’t detract from the book’s authenticity. Part of me felt, while paging through this book, that once you’ve read one immigrant’s tale, you’ve heard them all, but this book was a bit different. I liked that the narrator, Panchito, places most of his focus on his family and surroundings, and doesn’t brood too much over his less than desirable situation. Panchito’s story is about overcoming slim odds, and trying to live the American dream, whatever that might mean to a minority trying to make it in the 1940s and early 1950s.

All too often when I read something that is regarded as multicultural literature, the author tells their story without actually giving the reader a sense of what their culture consists of, and how it is different from the majority’s. Many topics, like having a big family, being devoutly Catholic, maintaining a strong work ethic, etc. – shed light on Panchito’s family, and these details pull you into the narrative. Jimenez does a good job of using very short, descriptive, and declarative sentences that offered me a very quick reading experience, but at the same time it was very much to the point.

The power of language is very evident and important in the story. Pachito’s librito is an important symbol that can be made sense of in a multitude of different ways. It is basically a little crib sheet that contains pronunciations and meanings of English words that are difficult to pronounce or remember. Since Panchito spends a significant amount of time away from his English-speaking world, he comes back time and time again stunned after a few months of not speaking English, and feels embarrassed. Education is tremendously important to Panchito and his family, and Panchito is blessed with having several good, patient teachers.

The book ends, surprisingly, in the classroom, where the immigration officers take him away. I was shocked at this ending because their house had just burned down! I was certain that it would end on a high, happy note, but to no avail. I think this ending, actually, was very calculated on the part of Jimenez because it serves as a metaphor for being very close to fitting in to the United States, with so many hopes, dreams, and desires, but in the end feeling like an outcast because he wasn’t born in the U.S.

One possible objection I’d have to this book is the fact that several key Spanish terms are used without any explanation or translation on the part of the author. I am nearly fluent in Spanish, so I understood most things said in Spanish, but I also had to look up many words to get the correct gist. I feel that other readers not acquainted with Spanish would be missing out on some essential family dialogue.

All in all, I’d have to say that my favorite part of this story was its honesty and brevity. I said in the beginning that the narrator doesn’t brood over his situation, not asking for the reader’s sympathy. Panchito always has the attitude of overcoming adversity, and always keeps in mind whatever it is that he can do to help his family. As a small boy he tries to take up chores that he really isn’t physically capable of doing; he has the heart of an American, if you will, that ‘pull yourself up by your bootstraps’ attitude, but the only thing keeping him and his family from the American Dream is the fact that they are Mexican Nationals – just trying to make a living.


The Life and Death of Adolf Hitler

It is a strange phenomenon that James Giblin was able to write a biography about arguably the most evil man in history with such objectivity. Granted a biography ought to be objective, but at various points in the book I felt myself almost sympathizing with Hitler’s personal situation and his “Kampf.” We don’t often hear the whole story of Hitler’s existence – usually just the really horrible stuff. It isn’t until a person learns about the people around Hitler that he or she really begins to put things into perspective, and this book offers a very comprehensive analysis of the people, nations, and events that molded Hitler.

Giblin’s description of Hitler as a young man is very disturbing to me, and I’m not exactly sure why. Perhaps it is because the character profile that comes across to the reader is similar to that of a psychopath or a serial killer. This could be bias on my part because I know about the old man he would turn in to. Nevertheless, this socially awkward, sickly, homeless, and withdrawn aspiring painter sent chills up my spine. It seems like all his life Hitler wanted to be known, to be famous and rich, but after being rejected to art school, he must have realized he needed a change.

I really didn’t know the extent to which WWI affected the German people, and how personal Hitler took this defeat. My sympathies towards Hitler came mostly from the chapter entitled “Corporal Hitler,” which narrates events from 1914-1918. In this chapter I took Hitler as a young idealist who bravely fought for his country. After WWI his aspirations weren’t predatory or overly nationalistic; he merely wanted the German people out of the economic rut and attitude of low morale that the war had instilled in them.

The book also offers – but refrains from trying to answer - plenty of interesting psychological insights. Did Hitler’s hatred of Jews stem from the fact that a Jewish doctor had “let” his beloved mother die? Though he survived, how much did the famous bomb placed under his table actually affect Hitler’s psyche and general health? Why did Hitler time after time ignore the opinions of his generals? Did Hitler really believe his small nation could be victorious fighting a two-front war, or did he not even really care, simply wanting to go down in history?

I felt that reading this book was really a personal achievement for me because even though I had considered myself at least somewhat knowledgeable in WWII history, I now know the story through the eyes of important European personages rather than the traditional American account of the war. I don’t think I necessarily learned anything new about the Holocaust in general, but the book did offer many reasons why the Holocaust came into existence. I am glad that Giblin didn’t spend too much time on the Holocaust because I have a feeling that most readers would consult other books for a comprehensive source.

I do wish, though, that Giblin would have lengthened the chapter called “Hitler Lives” because many interesting parallels can be seen in contemporary politics, both in America and abroad. Anti-Semitism isn’t unique to Hitler, and neither is world domination. Thousands of people still worship Hitler and dream of his fabled “master race.” I think that a more philosophical or comparative discussion at the end of the book could have brought these issues into the forefront. My favorite example of a tough question along these lines is the following: why do people look back at Alexander the Great’s world conquest as something noble or heroic and Hitler’s as something inherently evil?

The House of the Scorpion


I was a little intimidated when I saw that this book is almost 400 pages long. I usually don’t like science fiction novels, so I had to drink lots of coffee to make it go fast. To my surprise and delight, though, this book really sucked me in. Farmer ever so slowly reveals the big picture to the reader in kind of a Dan Brown way (which is awesome and infuriating at the same time). I immediately noticed elements of 1984 and A Brave New World in The House of the Scorpion. Society as we generally know it has undergone a significant change in the book, but human decency and universal values haven’t yet been extinguished.

It is one thing to clone animals, but to clone human beings will probably always be controversial. I’ve heard of black market organ farming in today’s world, but Matt’s entire existence rests on this reality. He is the exact clone of a powerful drug lord. El Patron’s original intensions are to keep Matt tucked away until he needs him for organs, but he actually takes a liking to him.
Matt isn’t a typical clone – most of them are kept in a brain-dead, vegetative state throughout their whole “lives,” but El Patron doesn’t want this for “himself.” There are also eejits, humans or animals that are programmed to do specific tasks – essentially robots made out of meat. For the first quarter or so of the book, Matt is full of compassion and wants to find out more about life, but when El Patron elevates his status by taking a liking to him, he acts somewhat cruel and conceited. Luckily for all of the subjugated people and animals on El Patron’s operation, Matt rises up through many different challenges and struggles to eventually inherit the property, shutting down the empire and turns the eejits into normal humans again.

I think the book had fluidity until the last pages because Farmer invites readers into this future world slowly and carefully. She isn’t over-descriptive of the scenes at hand, but provides enough detail to be authentic and original. It was strange at first, but in order to understand Matt’s mind, you have to think like him, which is difficult because he isn’t a normal human being. He has been shut up in a house his whole life, and really has no idea what or who he is or what the world is like.

I have a feeling that this book wouldn’t be conducive to a classroom because of its length. I would for sure recommend this book to my students that like science fiction, but I think that some readers could get bogged down easily with this book and lose interest. I think that Feed would be a better science fiction choice.

I’m not sure to what age group The House of the Scorpion is directed, but I think it could only work for 11th or 12th graders. It’s not that the ideas or subject matter isn’t fit for lower grades, but because the book is long, it has a very complicated plotline that I even thought was confusing. Nevertheless, I like strange books, which this book definitely is, and I think that other people do too. Originality is important in choosing a good book, and Farmer goes above and beyond to achieve this.

19 Varieties of Gazelle

The strange thing about this collection of poetry is that it reads more like a novel. After each poem, the subsequent one would contain just a bit more clarity than the last, and force you to read on till the end; the reader slowly enters Nye’s world and comes to understand it. The introduction places this world into a perspective that is traceable and realistic. I think that students would get pulled in by the shock value of dating this introduction at September 11th, 2001.

Though the text is incredibly playful and saccharine, it is also incredibly heart wrenching and serious at times. The first line that staggered me was from a poem called “Biography of an Armenian Schoolgirl.” This line in particular speaks to injustice: “What is the history of Europe to us if we cannot choose our own husbands?” The merit of this collection, in my eyes, is that it would be an incredible jumping off point for some serious discussion. Since the media all too often portrays the Middle East as a place of constant despair, a war zone, or a wasteland, poetry about a family sitting down enjoying amazing food shines so much light on the way things could be there, the way families ought to live and prosper with freedom.

One possible objection I might pose to this book is merely a supposition that couldn’t be verified without a classroom, and it is this: the poems might offer little sense of “truth” or “meaning” to a young reader. I know that this is a constant battle with literature, and even more so with poetry – the need for finality or sense of accomplishment or acquisition. One solution to this (possible) problem is to have a short unit on Walt Whitman. Whitman’s poetry often relies on nouns or noun phrases, a series of pictures that the reader must soak up, internalize, and make sense of on their own with little guidance from the poet. I strongly believe that Nye’s poetry is very similar.

An example is taken from the poem “For the 500th Dead Palestinian, Ibtisam Bozieh.” It reads “Dead at 13, for staring through the window into a gun barrel which did not know you wanted to be a doctor.” A solemn and dreadful line that sits all by itself within a poem of death and despair. Is there actually a point to this poem? Is there one message that the author is trying to get across? I believe the answer is no, for there are as many interpretations and emotional responses as there are potential readers.

Ultimately what I take from this volume is a stifled cry for peace, a message that tugs on the heartstrings of readers. The most powerful poem is “Jerusalem Headlines 2000.” It talks about how a top Israeli official merely “hints” at peace while the poet writhes in anger, wishes the official would “sing it loudly” or “chant from the top of the wall.” Each individual character in the volume has enormous potential and lust for life, but there is always something holding them back. Nye is very good at eliciting that emotional response I talked about earlier through showing the reader, through their mind’s eye, that this turmoil and despair are very real and dauntingly present in the everyday lives of the people who must put up with it.

The single most appealing part of Nye’s poetry is the resonance, lasting calm, and pensiveness that occurs when I read the last word in a section. There are usually more questions than answers when finishing one of her poems, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I think if a poet reveals too much, demands too much direction or attention from his or her readers, much opportunity for positive reflection is lost.

A Northern Light


The core mystery of Jennifer Donnelly’s fictional piece is driven by actual events, but the power of her narrative stems from something quite different. The first person narrator is Mattie Gokey, a young woman who offers readers the chance to look at the early 20th century through an aspiring young writer’s eyes. The effect is stunning because she so eloquently relates her story’s events in a realistic and extremely descriptive way without seeming too prosy or pretentious. Her imagination is that of a seasoned writer even though she is a poor farm girl with limited resources to develop her gifts.

As an English major I particularly enjoyed the copious amounts of literary allusions. She compares her reality to the reality of great stories of the past in a way that expands the general plot structure. She implicitly asks herself how Jane Austin would have handled a certain situation, and gives props to Shakespeare, Milton, Twain, Stoker, and a slew of other writers by weaving their character’s perspectives on life into her own thoughts, fancies, and aspirations. The most relevant and meaningful literary allusion comes when she compares her own life to that of Emily Dickenson’s: she asks herself “Why didn’t Dickenson ever go get married?” She at first comes to the conclusion that she must have felt cooped up in her fathers house and lonely, but later realizes that her isolation from the demands of traditional life offered her immense freedom, reasoning that she couldn’t have written such great poetry with a husband, children, a farm, and all of the elements of a normal daily grind.

The structure of Donnelly’s novel, in my eyes, takes on the traditional format of a mystery or detective story. She introduces the strange death of Grace Brown as something tied to her own fate, which begs the reader to keep reading until this mystery is solved. This death is introduced early on in the book, but then takes a back seat to Mattie’s own struggles and accomplishments. The effect that is born from this structure is that the more we get to know Mattie, the more we get to know Grace Brown and her fate. I ended the book – like a reader probably should – feeling that if Mattie hadn’t gone to New York she would have suffered a similar fate, although symbolically; her talents would have died along with her individuality and search for personal identity. Her mother’s death also ties into this dynamic in that people in her town said that her mother died from working too hard, even though she actually died of cancer. Whenever Mattie talks about her mother, the reader can feel the immense pain she feels at her loss, and also the determination to not end up like her.

Another element of the book that I like is, I admit, sort of cheesy, but I particularly liked the lusty sort of romance between the country bumpkin Royal and the intellectually seasoned Mattie. Even though it doesn’t work out with them in the end, the tremendous passion that the two lovers show each other is very realistic. I guess passion is probably what Mattie would have called it (taking examples from romantic literature), while Royal might have called it lust and practicality. He never seems all that into her personality, and even mocks it at times, although he enjoys her body and at first kind of forces himself on her. The practicality part comes from the fact that her father’s farm borders Royal’s family farm, and that every farmer needs a wife.
The last element of the book I liked was Weaver’s story. As an African American he faces racial discrimination even though he is a brilliant young man, much like Mattie. His mother is a strong female character who shows tremendous responsibility and kindness because she has been saving up for her son to go to college – money that is, sadly, stolen from them by bigots. Even though Weaver’s story isn’t seen through, one gets the feeling that he does attend Columbia someway or some how.

All in all I really enjoyed this book. When I read the back cover I thought I was going to hate it. I think what put me over the edge is that my grandparents lived a similar lifestyle as farmers in Minnesota in the early 20th century. Donnelly paints this era with precision, truth, and vividness that can’t be denied.


A Step From Heaven


Although this book is told in a first person present narration, the reader can tell right away that the true voice that is telling the story comes from an older, wiser narrator that is recounting events from childhood. An Na’s novel is loosely based on her own experiences, and this is probably why there is so much emotion conveyed through even the most simple occurrences. My only qualm with this book is that it took me a long time to warm up to; it wasn’t until about halfway through that I felt that I was a part of Young Ju’s world. One possible reason that this is the case may be due to the extremely subjective and esoteric language that perhaps only an immigrant child could understand. Perhaps this effect is purposeful because in the first half of the book Young Ju is very young, and tries to make sense of America in a way that only she, as a child, can understand.

As a young girl, Young Ju is overwhelmed by America and American ways. An Na does a good job of presenting the transition from the Korean lifestyle to the American way in that all conflicts in the story stem from how her family as a whole copes with their new life. There is a great chapter that describes Young Ju’s first days of school. Since she doesn’t have a firm grasp of English right away, An Na presents what the teacher is saying using phonetics since Young Ju hasn’t been exposed to much English yet. The following example is the teacher introducing Young Ju to the rest of the class: “Ah ri cas, ca mo ve he… Tees es Yung… Wah ko um, Yung.” (All right guys, come over here… this is Young… Welcome, Young). I think this technique would really make students realize how difficult it would be to have to learn a completely different language, and how scary it must be. At first Young Ju struggles because her family doesn’t speak English at home, only Korean. Over the years Young Ju and her family get better at English, though Young Ju and her brother Joon adapt much easier than their parents.
As Young Ju grows older, she adopts a central role in her family and becomes the leader. The major source of conflict in her life is her grandmother’s death, which affects her father tremendously. This conflict brings up many fruitful topics for discussion: alcoholism, domestic violence, and the equality between men and women. Since Young Ju’s father feels ashamed that he can’t go back to Korea to attend his mother’s funeral, he starts to drink and beat up on his family. He even gets a DWI and brings shame to his family. Young Ju and her mother take abuse after abuse from him, doing nothing to improve their situation.

The reader can see Young Ju mature through this experience because she breaks through her mother’s twisted logic: “We are afraid you are becoming too American; don’t forget, you are Korean.” Young Ju’s response: “Then why did we come to America?” “Remember, Young Ju, women in America have choices.” Young Ju’s response: “So do you, mother.” This last remark makes Uhmma (her mother) realize that she doesn’t have to take the abuse, but before she has time to leave her husband, he beats her severely, leaving Young Ju no option but to finally call 911.

Unlike other books about immigrants trying to become Americans, Young Ju doesn’t experience an identity crisis. It is something different, something I haven’t really seen in a novel before. Since she is told, back in Korea, that America is basically like heaven, she is completely ready to make the transition. The trouble she has with American life is how her family adapts to the changes. Not only is her family a “minority,” they are also very poor, with both of her parents having to work several low-paying jobs. At times it seems that Young Ju is ashamed of her family, refusing to tell her American friends what they actually do for a living, lying that they own a restaurant. This “shame” is turned into a constructive emotion for Young Ju, though, and she becomes the best student in the classroom and eventually wins a full scholarship. The book is truly a story of overcoming obstacles and succeeding no matter what.

On a personal level, I really liked this book because I really didn’t know much about Korean culture. There were several small pieces of information that I found interesting, such as that “Han Gook” (Korean) people came from Mongolia. On a deeper level, I learned how a Korean family perceives the world. I think students would really like this book because it takes something unfamiliar and makes it familiar, forcing students to realize that all Americans, no matter their backgrounds, share common experiences.

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian


Like any good piece of writing for young adults, Alexie’s novel is a page-burner that provides plenty of opportunities for reflection, discussion, and insight. The protagonist named Junior guides the reader through a web of pessimism, doubt, and injustice, but, through his perseverance and courage, he finds his way out and comes to terms with who he is. I enjoy the fact that this book is written in first person because Junior (or Alexie) is able to pause the narrative to question and challenge the reader to see the world in the same manner that he does, if only for a few pages. The captioned drawings or cartoons that show up throughout the story intensify this effect and provide a creative and expedient way to tell the necessary back-story.
Junior’s cartoons, in his own words, allow him to “understand the world” (95). He is often frustrated by not only his own personal situation, but also his family’s, friends’, and community’s, and these drawings ameliorate the despair he feels. He fights the world with humor, and satirizes serious situations. Right off the bat he wins his readers over with his wit, humor, and almost crushing honesty. Apart from the great usage of terse prose and brilliant symbolism, I might actually believe this book was written by a freshman in high school. Thus young readers would probably respond to this book very well, and I foresee myself using this book in my future classroom.

Although you would probably initially describe this book to someone as one that delves into issues in the Native community such as alcoholism, racism, and identity crisis, I might suggest that basketball is one of the most important themes present in Junior’s story. As a former player, I felt all of the same emotions as Junior – the fear, the nervousness, the need for acceptance, the unabashed seriousness of competition in a young person’s life, and the deeply personal relationship a coach and player can have. Even though Junior eventually succeeds socially at Reardon, basketball is his principle escape. It provides him an opportunity to show his courage and stand up in the face of both communities, both of which consider him merely a half member. Like his Native heritage, Junior can’t help the fact that he wasn’t born tall and strong like the white players on the team – but he rises above this fact because like all people, he possesses at least one great quality: he can shoot.

One perk to teaching this book would be the fact that in very few pages we are presented with an array of different characters with very real emotions and thoughts, all of which possess 3-D personalities. If a reader didn’t have these influences, both positive and negative, he would be a very different person. The clash between Junior, a young man of very low socio-economic status, and his white classmates at Reardon seems to merge both the “white world” and the “native world” into a common narrative. Junior learns a lot from others, but others end up learning much more from Junior.

The reason this book is teachable is the shock factor, in my opinion. From intensely sad and bleak portraits of the world to laugh out loud moments, Junior does a great job informing and entertaining his audience. There are three heart-wrenching deaths in the story, but dozens of laugh-out-loud moments. The way that Alexie handles sexuality in the story is genius in my opinion: it is a crude, artful, honest, light-winded, and comedic strategy that somehow hits the nail right on the head. All in all, this book is probably able to inform students without them ever realizing it, and entertain them by telling the truth in the true sense of the word.


How I Live Now


Writing a response to this book might prove difficult for me because I guess I am not exactly sure how I feel about it. On the one hand, I love how Rosoff is able to speak through Daisy by using a very modern, jaded teenager attitude towards all the events in the book. But on the other hand, I felt that the majority of the plot was very contrived and even confusing. I caught myself constantly criticizing how nonchalantly this huge war is breaking out in England without the enemy ever being named. I guess I really liked the beginning of the book because in very few pages Rosoff paints a detailed picture of Daisy, her father, Davina the Diabolical, her cousins, and her aunt. I also liked the end of the book due to its pastoral descriptions of nature and how things somehow work themselves out for the better. The middle of the book, though, is very messy and scatterbrained.

My dislike for this book might arise from the fact that I don’t think it is very realistic, but perhaps a younger reader wouldn’t think so at all. It would be a very teachable book because Rosoff has a unique way of characterization. Daisy has all the essential elements of a heroine, and is very strong, motherly, affectionate, and stubborn. Edmund isn’t necessarily a hero in my eyes, but rather the object of Daisy’s affection and a symbol for peace, serenity, and home. Edmund is rebellious yet traditional, somber yet witty, and strong yet light-hearted. A great quality in this book is how some of the less important characters really come to life without much effort on the part of the author; the reader must fill in the many blanks that Rosoff leaves us, which is good and bad all at once.

What I mean is that for a book to be good, in my eyes, the author must trust their readers’ imaginations – never explaining things away or using too much unessential detail – but yet an author must gradually set up a framework that gets larger and larger as the reader progresses. In How I Live Now, I found myself saying “Ok, this book is about this,” only to read another forty or fifty pages and realize that it is about something else. This could be a harsh and unfair appraisal on my part too, I realize. The author could have intended this affect, which would go on to symbolize how much a war can change an individual and a society.

One thing I would have liked to have from Rosoff is a little more internal dialogue from Daisy. The story is told through her eyes, yet most of the time the passing events are relayed vicariously without any emotional reaction. In the first twenty pages or so, I was excited to see how a girl from New York City would fit into a rural landscape in a different country, but was disappointed. I guess I have a special affinity to this urban/rural distinction since I am from a very small rural town and decided to go to Minneapolis for college. There are so many changes, differences, new perspectives, new people, new everything – but with Daisy this transition seems to be glossed over.

All in all, How I Live Now is very fast-paced and readable, but looking back I just see too many flaws in the plot and narration. I feel so snotty saying all of this because the book is powerful in and of itself, but I think the reason that I get so fired up about it is that it is ALMOST a great book. If someone were to ask me, though, what this book is about, I would probably have a hard time coming up with an answer.

Joyful Noise


Fleischman’s collection of poetry would indeed be a good choice for a classroom. Because of the unique format of this poetry, it would be essential to read each poem slowly with a special emphasis on pronunciation and timbre placed on each word. As a teacher, the notion of cadence must be discussed in depth in order to allow these poems to speak to the listeners – something that could prove challenging because two readers must come together and actually perform the lines in unison instead of merely reading them.

The basic premise of this tiny book juxtaposes the seemingly insignificant things in life with the enormous. Little creatures – bugs, crawlers, flyers, and swimmers – are not only described under a microscope, but also intertwine with life on the largest of scales. The creatures are personified in that they can feel joy and despair, ponder the seasons and cosmos, and are fully aware of time’s passing.

At first I didn’t like the format because it was so different, but the merit of this technique could be a very valuable teaching tool. In the poem entitled “Mayflies,” one can see how a student’s vocabulary is sharpened by the singsong nature and cadence of the poem. On the left reads “fevered,” on the right responds “frenzied,” and zooming back to the left and the other reader, the cadence is finished with the word “rushed.” All three words are similar, but different. Thesaurus activities could show how the words are related and different, and evidence could be found as to why these three words are appropriate descriptions of the mayflies.

Many fruitful learning opportunities could also arise from this poetry in terms of syntax. In the poem entitled “Requiem,” there is a verse that reads, “Let light undying shine upon them.” Why not “undying light?” Are they basically the same? Are these prose poems, rhymed poems, or a combination?

One nice thing about this book is that the reader is bound to have personal connections or memories related to at least a few of the creatures, although most would probably be foreign. Personally, I liked the poems about the cicadas, the fireflies, the wasps, and the mayflies because they remind me of my childhood.

Playing outside in our yard towards the end of summer we’d always hear the haunting buzz of the cicada (though we called them locusts) and occasionally find their hardened, abandoned shells on the sides of trees, wondering where they’d flown to. And like the cicada, seeing fireflies reassures me that its summertime. The wasp, even though I hate and fear his sting, reminds me of our old garage that has long been gone, and how the wasps would love to build their nests on the underside of the roof; as a bored young boy I dared to spray them with hoses or knock their nests down with a golf club, then run like hell when they became angry. And the mayflies, any fisherman will tell you, are horrible for the walleye bite when they release themselves from the bottom of the lake floor.

Thus is follows that, all in all, this collection of poetry is a celebration of life and its cycles. Insects often disgust and annoy people, but, as the author shows, they too have challenges to overcome, and like humans have their own remarkable skills or talents. The language is simple yet profoundly intimate and sly. There are enough uncommon words to challenge young readers, yet the majority are familiar and accessible. So, not only is this book a valuable reader tool, but also a great example when teaching students about composing their own poetry in that the author uses words, metaphor, and narrative techniques that truly paint a picture.

Kira-Kira

Cynthia Kadohata’s novel really reminded me of A Step From Heaven because it too tells the tale of Asian Americans struggling in the United States. Although A Step From Heaven was well written, I didn’t really have a personal connection to it because like Kira-Kira the protagonist is a young female. It’s not that I’m unable to connect with a female writer or protagonist, it’s just that the issues that Katie Takeshima relates in her narrative about her years as a young girl don’t ring familiar or interesting to me. Anyhow, I think that I liked this book much more than A Step From Heaven because the family element to the story is much more vivid, dramatic, and believable. There are a few structural/thematic elements that I believe really strengthen the emotional output of the book.

First, even though it is Katie that is the protagonist and narrator, the reader is presented with her older sister Lynn’s diary pages that are handwritten. This technique lends authenticity and depth to the character of Lynn, and gives the reader a glimpse into her imagination as she relates memorable moments – both happy and sad – that tie into Katie’s story.

Second, every once in a while Katie’s traditional narration is broken when she lists events or ideas in numerical order. When her family is packing up to head to Georgia from Iowa, she lists all of the things that went wrong or missing, which provides a comical effect. Later, this same technique of listing things in order reads almost like poetry. She lists the things she sees, hears, and feels.

And lastly, the way that Kadohata describes everyone in the family and other minor characters is really great. There isn’t much said about Katies aunt and uncle, but from the little that she does say I had a totally clear picture in my head. I think that she is so successful in her descriptions because she uses humor, wit, and short, declarative sentences that keep building upon one another. When describing her mother’s pregnancy I laughed a bit because Katie – being the curious child that she is – notices that her mother has been acting strange lately. She says that her mother is peeing more, feeling sick in the morning, and also eating barbeque sauce by the spoonful and making sure that there are many back-up jars in the pantry. All of this seems strange enough, but then Katie finds out that her mother is pregnant with her baby brother, and the mystery is solved!

Like any book about a culture different than your own, I liked learning a little bit about Japanese culture. I learned that a Kibei is someone who was born in the United States, but is sent to Japan to be educated. Both Katies parents and her uncle are Kibei. Also, when the family is getting acquainted with Southern life, they see some Native Americans. Katie’s father tells her that in Japan they too have their own “Natives.” He tells her that the Ainu people from Northern Japan are in a very similar relationship to Japan. Speaking of other cultures, one last thing I enjoyed was Katie’s description of Southern English, and how she too eventually started speaking like them, calling her sister “Lee Uhn” instead of Lynn.

If I had any personal connection to this book it would be due to the very accurate way in which Kadohata describes the grieving process. Lynn falls ill halfway through the book, but I never saw her end coming. Lynn, Katie’s bright, beautiful, and promising sister dies from Anemia, and her family is very much shaken up by it. My dad died when I was ten, just about the age that Katie was when her sister died, and I feel that her emotional response rang very true.

Skellig


There’s something about books with short chapters that really makes you tear through them. Not only this, but the general storyline and amount of mystery that Almond implements in his narrative create a vivid, intriguing picture that demands to be figured out. The narrator is Michael, a young boy who starts his tale off by letting us know how dissatisfied he is with life. There are a number of problems in his life, including the stress of his family’s recent move and the premature birth of his baby sister, which leads to her having to frequent the hospital. After he discovers a creature in his garage, the reader is guided through Michael’s world.

Because it is kind of a short novel, I think that Almond chose the appropriate amount of main characters to develop. There are supporting characters like Michael’s mom and dad, who aren’t really developed that much but serve a definite narrative purpose, Michael’s friends Leaky and coot, who are ruffians that provide a bit of humor, and of course Michael’s quirky teachers, who all seem to have strange, humorous names: Rasputin, Miss Clarts, and Monkey Mitford. All of these characters play in to the narrative, but we don’t get to know them intimately like Michael, Mina, and Skellig.

The second most important character is Mina, a precocious, home-schooled neighbor girl. At first I thought a sort of romance would develop between the two, but she turns out to be a great friend that helps Michael through tough times while teaching him about life, the world, and himself. She is a naturalist of sorts, as well as a lover of poetry, namely William Blake. Blake’s poetry shows up numerous times in the book, often serving as a guide to Michael’s (and the reader’s) discoveries. Almond – I think – uses Blake’s biography as either a distraction that leads readers to believe that the Skellig is an angel, or to at least suggest the possibility of the existence of angels or strange beings. We learn that Blake saw angels in his yard, and would paint them and compose poetry inspired by them. The connection between Michael’s strange sightings and Blake’s experiences is made obvious, and we are left to decide for ourselves what Skellig actually is.

After reading through some of the supplemental material at the end of the book, I know now that Almond purposely leaves the question of who or what Skellig is up to the reader. Almond does this in a way that is very unique. I’ve already discussed the religious foreshadowing in my discussion about Blake, but the other side of the coin is revealed by the book’s interesting play on evolution. We are taken into Michael’s science classroom a bit, where the topic of evolution is presented to the class, and we are also taken into Mina’s world of animals. She is ornithologist at heart, and birds of all kinds show up frequently in all part of the book.

So how are we, as readers, to make sense of Skellig’s special affinity to birds? Why do the owls take care of him? It’s all one, big mystery, which I love and hate at the same time. So, as I implied earlier, the Skellig is the third most important character. At first he is a vulgar, unhappy, dirty, needy, and sick creature laying in a disheveled garage, but then turns into a compassionate creature that clearly saves Michael’s baby sister. In this light, I’d read him as a fallen or lost angel – but then again Mina theorizes that he could be a dinosaur or an ancient descendent of birds – or even a more highly evolved human. There is a motif in the novel about shoulder blades, and what they are “actually” for. Michael takes it on faith, later on, that they are where our wings once were or will be. But yet again, we never know for sure!

So, all in all, I liked the book and its strange use of mystery and uncertainness. I think that other, younger readers wouldn’t exactly appreciate finishing this book and never knowing exactly what Skellig is, but as a teacher there are probably ways around this sentiment. I would argue that the point of this book isn’t to figure this mystery out, but rather to question one’s own beliefs and worldviews. For a book aimed at younger readers, I was blown away at how sneakily the topics of aesthetics, evolution, and poetry were weaved into the narrative. This book is a great read, and an even better conversation/discussion starter.

Troy


I chose to read Troy because last summer I went out and bought The Iliad on audio book, and listened to it from start to finish in my car. It was read by a really good actor who I thought very accurately performed the story as it was meant to be experienced. Looking back after reading the novel Troy, I realize just how machismo and bellicose Homer’s tale actually is, and how much women must dislike it! Just kidding. Geras’ story is quite different than the traditional telling of the story because for one, it isn’t written as poetry, but rather in novel form, and also, we are given the perspective of many different people of Troy, most of them being women. Using a feminist lens, this book really lends itself to analysis.

It took me quite awhile to get into this book, but once I did I really enjoyed it. It wasn’t until the love triangle of Xanthe, Marpessa, and Alastor occurred that I started to realize what was going on, or what the author’s intentions might be. Geras did a good job keeping my attention because I tend to enjoy stories that are a bit dirty or lusty, and this epic love story between two sisters and a wounded soldier doesn’t dissapoint. One thing I noticed immediately is that nearly every woman in Troy is completely sexualized by the men of Troy. It seems like in order to be a good man in Troy, one needs to be a good, well-built soldier, but to be a good woman, one must be beautiful.

While the war rages on for all those years, the people inside the walls must try to keep on living their lives. Strangely enough, as though intervening in the war wasn’t enough fun, the Gods intervene in the lives of ordinary people. Eros makes Xanthe fall in love with Alastor, and then Aphrodite makes her sister Marpessa do the same. All this happens while the poor stable boy Iason is desperately in love with Xanthe. Most of the elements from The Illiad are preserved, but a lot of the focus is taken off of major characters like Odysseus, Achilles, and Hector and placed on other, more minor characters and women of Troy. I was surprised that Geras could get away with only giving one or two pages to Achilles’ death, but when I read on I knew that it didn’t matter much.

The part of this book I will never forget involves Marpessa and her pregnancy. The love between her and Alastor seems real at first, and the passion that they show each other seems authentic, but after Alastor admits that he is betrothed to another so nonchalantly, I was stunned right along with Marpessa. Marpessa then thinks about having an abortion to rid herself of anything Alastor, and even buys the poison for it. This is all in vain, though, for she has a miscarriage anyway.

One major thing that I didn’t like about the novel was the ending. It seemed very foggy to me, and even though the sisters are reunited, it gave me little closure. I realize that Geras didn’t really have too many options since she couldn’t deviate from the inevitable end of Troy to maintain authenticity, but I feel she could have been more creative. Another smaller thing that I didn’t like was the shear length! Although some of the more trivial or insignificant parts of the book were interesting, I felt that they robbed the plotline, which could have been more exciting if the author cut out, say, 100 pages.

I knew that it would be incredibly hard to write a response for such a thick novel with so many different characters and subplots. All in all though, I really enjoyed the book. One question I will always have about this book is whether a person who is unfamiliar with The Illiad would appreciate this book. My short answer is “no,” but only by conjecture.

Junk Food Junkies



It sounds like a science experiment designed by Willy Wonka: Take a lot of junk food, feed it to some rats, and see what happens.

Scientist Paul Johnson of the Scripps Research Institute and his team did just that. But their science experiment was no fiction. They had a serious goal: to try to understand how parts of the brain play a role in obesity. (Obesity is the condition of being very overweight, which has been linked to a variety of health problems.)
The scientists observed that the more junk food the rats ate, the more they wanted to eat—a behavior very similar to that of rats addicted to heroin, a dangerous drug. Johnson told Science News the experiment shows that the brain chemistry of obesity and drug addiction may be quite similar.

In their experiment, Johnson and his team studied the “pleasure center” of rats’ brains. The pleasure center is a complicated network of nerve cells. Together, these cells work as the body’s reward system. If the animal exercises or eats, the cells reward the animal by releasing chemicals into the body that make it feel good. And when the body feels good, the animal—or person—will want to do the behavior again.
Pleasure centers can release these chemicals in less healthy ways, too. Drugs like heroin can cause the pleasurable chemicals to be released.

For the experiment, Johnson fed foods like cheesecake, bacon and Ho Hos to one group of rats. These foods are all high in calories and high in fat. Another group of rats received a regular, nutritious diet. The rats that ate junk food started to eat more and more.

“They’re taking in twice the amount of calories as the control rats,” says Paul Kenny, also at Scripps Research Institute. Kenny worked with Johnson on the study.
Kenny and Johnson wanted to know what was going on in the brains of rats that were overeating. To find out, they came up with a simple reward system. They first devised a way to deliver a small electrical charge to the rats’ brains. This electrical charge would stimulate the pleasure centers to release pleasure-causing chemicals. The rats could control how much stimulation—and how much pleasure—they received by running on a wheel. The more the rat ran, the more pleasure it received.
The rats that had been eating junk food started running more and more. This behavior suggested that the junk-food–eating rats needed more brain stimulation to feel good compared with rats on a normal diet. In other words, their pleasure centers were becoming less sensitive and the junk food didn’t make them feel good unless they ate more and more. The same process happens in the brains of drug addicts. As the pleasure center becomes numb, the addict has to consume more of the drug to feel good.

“They lose control,” Kenny says. “This is the hallmark of addiction.”
Kenny and Johnson also found out that the effects are hard to reverse. After they took away the junk food and offered the rats a nutritious diet, the fat rats refused to eat. “They starve themselves for two weeks afterward,” Kenny says.
Experiments like this one could help scientists understand how chemicals in the brain contribute to obesity. With that information, they may be able to help people avoid obesity—and all of its health problems—in the first place. Not bad for a bunch of rats with Ho Ho’s in their paws.



Questions

________________________________________
VOCAB WORDS
stimulate To increase temporarily the activity of a body organ or part.
obese Extremely overweight.
nerve cell The body of a neuron without its axon and dendrites.
chemical A substance with a distinct molecular composition that is produced by or used in a chemical process.

1. What are the scientists trying to prove by experimenting on rats?


2. Briefly explain what the “pleasure center” is in humans and animals.


3. Why is “obesity” a dangerous condition?

4. Do you think that it is OK to experiment on animals? If YES, explain why; if NO, explain why not.


http://www.sciencenews.org/view/generic/id/48880/title/FOR_KIDS_Junk_food_junkies

Edgar Allan Poe

"The Tell Tale Heart"

Full Text

True! - nervous - very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses - not destroyed - not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily - how calmly I can tell you the whole story.

It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture - a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees - very gradually - I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.

Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded - with what caution - with what foresight - with what dissimulation I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of his door and opened it - oh so gently! And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed, closed, so that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly - very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man's sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. Ha! - would a madman have been so wise ass this? And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the lantern cautiously - oh, so cautiously - cautiously (for the hinges creaked) - I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights - very night just at midnight - but I found the eye always closed; and so it was impossible to do the work; for it was not the old man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into the chamber, and spike courageously to him, calling him by name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he had passed the night. So you see he would have been a very profound old man, indeed, to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked upon him while he slept.

Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. A watch's minute hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never before that night, had I felt the extent of my own powers - of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. To think that there I was, opening the door, little by little, and he not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea; and perhaps he heard me; for he moved on the bed suddenly, as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back - but no. His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness, (for the shutters were close fastened, through fear of robbers,) and so I knew that he could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.
I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon the tin fastening, and the old man sprang up in bed, crying out - 'Who's there?'

I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed listening; - just as I have done, night after night, hearkening to the death watches in the wall.

Presently I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a groan of pain or of grief - oh, no! - it was the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when all the world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me. I say I knew it well. I knew what the old man felt, and pitied him, although I chuckled at heart. I knew that he had been lying awake ever since the first slight noise, when he had turned in the bed. His fears had been ever since growing upon him. He had been trying to fancy them causeless, but could not. He had been saying to himself - 'It is nothing but the wind in the chimney - it is only a mouse crossing the floor,' or 'it is merely a cricket which has made a single chirp.' Yes, he had been trying to comfort himself with these suppositions: but he had found all in vain. All in vain; because Death, in approaching him had stalked with his black shadow before him, and enveloped the victim. And it was the mournful influence of ht unperceived shadow that caused him to feel - although he neither saw nor heard - to feel the presence of my head within the room.

When I had waited a long time, very patiently, without hearing him lie down, I resolved to open a little - a very, very little crevice in the lantern. So I opened it - you cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily - until, at length a simple dim ray, like the thread of the spider, shot from out the crevice and fell full upon the vulture eye.

It was open - wide, wide open - and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. I saw it with perfect distinctness - all a dull blue, with a hideous veil over it that chilled the very marrow in my bones; but I could see nothing else of the old man's face or person: for I had directed the ray as if by instinct, precisely upon the damned spot.

And have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over acuteness of the senses? - now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I knew that sound well, too. It was the beating of the old man's heart. It increased my fury, as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.

But even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eye. Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and louder every instant. The old man's terror must have been extreme! It grew louder, I say, louder every moment! - do you mark me well? I have told you that I am nervous: so I am. And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me - the sound would be heard by a neighbour! The old man's hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked once - once only. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. I then smiled gaily, to find the deed so far done. But, for many minutes, the heart beat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through the wall. At length it ceased. The old man was dead. I removed the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eye would trouble me no more.

If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The night waned; and I worked hastily, but in silence. First of all I dismembered the corpse. I cut off the head and the arms and the legs.

Then took up three planks from the flooring of the chamber, and deposited all between the scantlings. I then replaced the boards so cleverly, so cunningly, that no human eye - not even his - could have detected any thing wrong. there was nothing to wash out - no stain of any kind - no blood-spot whatever. I had been too wary for that. A tub had caught all - ha! ha!

When I had made an end of these labours, it was four o'clock - still dark as midnight. A the bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the street door. I went down to open it with a light heart, - for what had I now to fear? There entered three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of the police. A shriek had been heard by a neighbour during the night; suspicion of foul play had been aroused; information had been lodged at the police office, and they (the officers) had been deputed to search the premises.

I smiled, - for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome. The shriek, I said, was my own in a dream. The old man, I mentioned, was absent in the country. I took my visitors all over the house. I bade them search - search well. I led them, at length, to his chamber. I showed them his treasures, secure, undisturbed. In the enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the victim.

The officers were satisfied. My manner had convinced them. I was singularly at ease. They say, and while I answered cheerily, they chatted of familiar things. But, ere long, I felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in my ears: but still they sat and still chatted. The ringing became more distinct: - it continued and became more distinct: I talked more freely to get rid of the feeling: but it continued and gained definiteness - until, at length, I found that the noise was not within my ears.

No doubt I now grew very pale; - but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased - and what could I do? I was a low, dull, quick sound - much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath - and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly - more vehemently; but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased. Why would they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men - but the noise steadily increased. Oh God! what could I do? I foamed - I raved - I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It grew louder - louder - louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly, and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! - no, no! They heard! - they suspected! - they knew! - they were making a mockery of my horror! - this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! and now - again! - hark! louder! louder! louder! louder!
'Villains!' I shrieked, 'dissemble no more! I admit the deed! - tear up the planks! here, here! - it is the beating of his hideous heart!'

QUESTIONS

1. What had the madness done for the narrator's senses?
a. dulled them
b. nothing of note
c. destroyed them
d. sharpened them

2. For how many nights did the narrator look in upon the old man?
a. 5
b. 7
c. 6
d. 8

3. Why couldn't the narrator kill the old man on the first night?
a. the eye was closed
b. he didn't have the courage on the first night
c. there was someone else in the house
d. the old man wasn't asleep by midnight on the first night

4. During the week before the narrator killed the old man, how did he act towards him?
a. kind
b. indifferent
c. cruel
d. it never says


5. What did the narrator do by accident-as a result waking the old man?
a. he coughed
b. he sneezed
c. his thumb slipped on the lantern
d. he slipped and fell

6. What was the low, dull, quick sound that the narrator heard?
a. his own heartbeat
b.the clock
c. his watch
d. the old man's heartbeat

7. Why were the police sent to the house?
a. someone had seen the narrator
b. a gunshot was heard
c. an argument was heard
d. a shriek was heard

8. After the old man was dead, what was the first thing the narrator did to conceal the body?
a. buried it beneath the floor
b. threw it out
c. hid it in the closet
d. dismembered it

9. And finally, what was it that made the narrator confess to the crime?
a. his own heartbeat
b. the police suspected him
c. his ears began to ring
d. the old man's heartbeat