Monday, March 23, 2009

WSS Poem Metacognitive

Katie Lopes-Raftery
Ms. Clapp
AP Literature and Composition
9 March 2009
Wide Sargasso Sea Metacognitive

My original intention in writing a found poem for Wide Sargasso Sea was to mirror the sections in terms of what happened while at the same time using metaphors to be able to connect it on a broader scale to a universal idea. I first had two epigraphs, one of them being “The spirit, I trust, is willing, but the flesh, I see, is weak" (457). But later I realized that I didn’t talk about giving in to temptation that much, so I took out this epigraph and kept “remorse is the poison of life” (144). To me, this connected to the poem and the book especially where Rochester speaks where we can clearly see that he is a bit crazy himself for regretting his decisions. The title I chose for my poem is Underneath the Tropical Paradise. My second peer editor thought that this title meant that the speaker would be Bertha and that she would have a nostalgic point of view, from the time before she was taken away. However, that’s not what I wanted to convey. I really wanted to give a dual meaning. Yes, she was taken away, but I also wanted to show what it felt like to be taken away, not remembering what it was like to leave. Even in the first stanza, I take the readers to a garden floor, where a white cockroach lives. It goes under most forms of civilized life.
So in my first stanza, I made the speaker sound like a bug, the cockroach, which was well observed by one of my peer editors. I think by doing this, it showed how Antoinette felt in that beautiful paradise-at times, like the bug at the bottom of the garden. I started with two very blunt lines, hopefully giving a general idea of what the whole stanza would be about- “A solitary life (18) in (67) my (56) wild (19) garden (19).
Overgrown (104) but (101) empty (18), poisoned (18).” It shows how Antoinette feels alone in this big world she calls her wild garden-life. It is overgrown with people and ideas yet it’s empty, and poisoned with weeds; not a tame garden. The next lines reveal the speaker of the stanza and a third party’s view on her: “A (18) white cockroach, (23) alone (26). Go away (23). Go away (23). Go away (23).” This alludes to the part in the book where the young black girl called Antoinette a white cockroach, and told her to go away. I repeated “go away” three times to reinforce how everywhere Antoinette turned, she was rejected from people (the girl, her mother etc). The next two lines, “Consoling hope (119) only in (118) the wall (178), the moss (57). It (174) never (78) says (93) “go away” (23),” shows how Antoinette takes comfort in the wall, the marker between being isolated in an overgrown garden and living in a corrupt world. It can also suggest her love of nature, and that she (a cockroach) takes comfort only in the moss, a natural plant. The next lines demonstrate that saying, “On the (83) other side (175), they made (138) the wall (117) red (181). Money (24). Obeah (145). Blood (167). Curses (150). Death (150). All on (87) the other side (85) of that (36) red (130) wall (117).” The “they” in the poem isn’t clearly referred to anyone, but it can be compared to the white settlers that come and move next door to Antoinette. So on the other side, corruptness is portrayed by the blunt one-word conflicts in the book, or the things that create it. In the book, Antoinette has a dream of being chased in a forest, so I wanted to play with that a bit. Because there is a snake in the garden (hmm… maybe alluding to the one in the Garden of Eden), she leaves for that “unknown forest” called marriage. (I obviously noticed the need to change speakers in the next stanza).
The second stanza starts off with another point of view. Now, it isn’t a cockroach, but rather just Rochester. He says “Caught in the rain (99), we (83) hide (100). Looking out (70), I think (83), “what have (138) I (78) done (180)?” Both Rochester and Antoinette get caught in the rain, but it can be also mean that they were both off to a new beginning (baptism) yet while Rochester looks out at the rain and watches Antoinette stay in it, he realizes that he probably made a big mistake. In the next lines, I portray Rochester as a pure white tourist who “can’t take the heat of the kitchen.” It reads, “Everything is too much (140) in this (38) blazing (25) Granbois (118). Moths and beetles (149) burn to their death (149) Like (19) a cold (126) dark dream (140).” I chose the word blazing to convey that hot, burning feeling, like I sometimes feel on a summer vacation. The Granbois is the family estate, so it connects to the book’s sequence of events. I continued this irritated feeling by adding in the insects in the next lines, which die from the heat in the candle in the book. I then contrast the heat with the “cold, dark dream” suggesting that he hopes that this experience is but a dream. In the next lines, I play with an idea that Rochester said about flowers- “Flamboyant flowers (185) don’t live long (76), A (87) petal falling (87) one (45) by (60) one (45) onto (93) dirt (48)
Under (72) the dark (117) sky (119).” It also suggests that Antoinette is very fragile, like a flower, and that one careless touch makes a petal fall onto dirt, back to where it came from. I believed that the cock was a sign of betrayal, and in the book, Antoinette goes to Mounes Mors, which explains my next lines: “Under (72) the dark (117) sky (119).
With a (73) cock that crows (127), past the (38) Mounes Mors (120) we go (93).” These lines foreshadow the end of the poem/book. Betrayal and “the dead ones” both go together to suggest the end of something; in this case, a marriage. The last two lines truly demonstrate that Rochester truly regrets his decision of marrying Antoinette since he wants to “) take her away (140) from this (73) ill place (160). The (62) memory to be avoided (166),” forgetting that she ever existed. This last line also gives us a sense of where the next stanza is going to be, or at least, where it’s not.
The next stanza changes point of view again; this time to the “non-crazy” Antoinette/Bertha. With the first line we see that the honeymoon is over (in a figurative and literal sense). Where Antoinette is now, it is “(62) very (82) bitter (73) cold (173).” I remember when I was in England last summer, it would always be cold, a crisp bitter cold. Not only did I make it literal, but I wanted to show how Antoinette felt no passion being there. The next lines are pretty simple, “Lost (82) in an (83) unfamiliar (174) environment (38), Am I still (64) the white cockroach (23)?” She obviously doesn’t know where she is, so she questions her identity and answers it by saying “Maybe, (73) but not (73) in my garden (19).” Once again, she is away from the only place where her comfort (that wall) was, so being away from her garden should show that she does not feel at ease in the “cardboard box” she now lives in. When I think of living in a cardboard box, I thought of limitations and restrictions to freedom, which is what I think Antoinette feels while living at Thornfield, conveyed by the next line, “No space (73) to live (173).” At the end of the book, there is a lot about life and death, so I added that into my poem, saying that it can practically be defined by the color red. In the book, Antoinette remembers when she kissed Sandi, calling it the life and death kiss, an action that affected a lot of things that would happen. She watches the red sky and sees fragments of her life pass before her, thus the pairing of life and death with red. In the next line, I vividly describe that red: “A fire (178) red (185). A (87) blood (167) red (185),” hoping to portray that passion. In the final lines of my poem, it reads “Everything (84) comes (73) down to (47) nothing (82). So we rode away (172).” At the end of the book, we are left with a suspense as to what happens, and in my poem I suggest that everything that was once built up has now come tumbling down. I tried to relate the last line to when we rode away past the Mournes Mors in the second stanza. Sometimes, things just end.
Overall, I wanted my poem to parallel the book without being too close to its meaning. I originally had about 15 lines in the first and second stanzas, but I cut them down to 10 to keep it to a concise poem instead of just wanting to summarize what happened. I feel like I did a good job in bringing the readers on a mini journey. We first started off as cockroaches in an overgrown garden. We then saw what it was like to look from the other side, to look down on someone. And finally we were brought to a cockroach inside a woman’s mind. In the end, she got away didn’t she?

Underneath the Tropical Paradise (WSS Poem)

Katie Lopes-Raftery
Ms. Clapp
AP Literature and Composition
9 March 2009
Underneath the Tropical Paradise

“Remorse is the poison of life.”
-Jane Eyre (144).

A solitary life (18) in (67) my (56) wild (19) garden (19).
Overgrown (104) but (101) empty (18), poisoned (18).
A (18) white cockroach, (23) alone (26).
Go away (23). Go away (23). Go away (23).
Consoling hope (119) only in (118) the wall (178), the moss (57).
It (174) never (78) says (93) “go away” (23).
On the (83) other side (175), they made (138) the wall (117) red (181).
Money (24). Obeah (145). Blood (167). Curses (150). Death (150).
All on (87) the other side (85) of that (36) red (130) wall (117),
For (87) a snake (167) in here (90), I leave (78) for (87) the (84) unknown (73) forest (104).

Caught in the rain (99), we (83) hide (100).
Looking out (70), I think (83), “what have (138) I (78) done (180)?”
Everything is too much (140) in this (38) blazing (25) Granbois (118).
Moths and beetles (149) burn to their death (149)
Like (19) a cold (126) dark dream (140).
Flamboyant flowers (185) don’t live long (76),
A (87) petal falling (87) one (45) by (60) one (45) onto (93) dirt (48)
Under (72) the dark (117) sky (119).
With a (73) cock that crows (127), past the (38) Mounes Mors (120) we go (93).
I want to (73) take her away (140) from this (73) ill place (160).
The (62) memory to be avoided (166).

So (98) it was all over (65).
It is cold (126) here (73), a (62) very (82) bitter (73) cold (173).
Lost (82) in an (83) unfamiliar (174) environment (38),
Am I still (64) the white cockroach (23)?
Maybe, (73) but not (73) in my garden (19).
In a (82) house (180). A cardboard world (180).
No space (73) to live (173).
Life and death (179) lies (164) in red (185).
A fire (178) red (185). A (87) blood (167) red (185).
Everything (84) comes (73) down to (47) nothing (82).
So we rode away (172).

The Hours Explication

Katie Lopes-Raftery
Ms. Clapp
AP Literature and Composition
28 January 2008
Free From Obligation

“Laura leads her son back into the living room, reintroduces him to his tower of colored wooden blocks. Once he is settled, she returns to the kitchen and, without hesitation, picks up the cake and tips it from its milk-glass platter into the garbage can. It lands with a surprisingly solid sound; a yellow rose is smeared along the can’s curved side. She immediately feels relieved, as if steel cords have been loosened from around her chest. She can start over now. According to the clock on the wall, it is barely ten-thirty. She has plenty of time to make another cake. This time, she will prevent crumbs from getting caught in the icing. This time, she will trace the letters with a toothpick, so they’ll be centered, and she’ll leave the roses for last.” (112).

In this passage from The Hours by Michael Cunningham, the typical 1950’s housewife, Laura Brown, has faced a critique of her cake as being “cute” and decides to, without any hesitation, throw her cake away. Cunningham demonstrated Laura Brown’s “trapped” nature in order to develop a bigger theme in the book: that often times in life, one must go against what is socially accepted and expected to be content, fulfilling one’s personal desires.
Although Laura dearly loves her family, she feels restricted by the things she must do for them. Before being able to fulfill her own desire of throwing out the cake, Laura “leads her son back into the living room, reintroduces him to his tower of colored wooden blocks.” She feels an obligation to have him “settled.” It is only after she takes care of her housewife and motherly duty that she can go back and take care of her own emotions.
Laura’s throwing away of the cake symbolizes the freedom she wishes she had. “Without hesitation,” she throws the cake in the trash can, making a “solid sound.” Immediately, Laura “feels relieved as if steel cords have been loosened from around her chest.” This simile suggests that Laura feels so restrained by society’s expectations that Cunningham compared her relief of throwing away the cake to the relief of releasing steel cords from one’s chest. Although Laura is reluctant to leave her family, symbolically speaking, through the cake, “she can start over now.” Going on with the idea of one single day representing a life, Cunningham mentions that “according to the clock on the wall, it is barely ten-thirty.” Symbolically speaking, this means that it is pretty early in Laura’s life that she could still change it to do as she pleases. The next sentence foreshadows what she will eventually do with her life, make another cake. This time around, “she will prevent crumbs from getting caught in the icing,” or prevent anything from making her life less “pretty.” Cunningham’s use of “this time” along with the verbs in the future tense (she will leave) show that Laura is making a decision to change her life, hoping that by tracing the letters with a toothpick, “they’ll be centered.”
This passage is the “day” that explains the “lifetime” of the book. All three protagonists, Laura Brown, Clarissa Vaughn, and Virginia Woolf, struggle with their sense of constraint due to the expectations of their time. Laura was the one who most noticeably struggled with it, and eventually decides to go against what she felt socially obligated to do and completely left her family (which we find out at the end of the novel). Like the cake, Laura throws away her “planned out” life in order to live an uncharted path, which she could not fulfill by being a typical housewife.

Mrs. Dalloway Explication

Katie Lopes-Raftery
Ms. Clapp
AP Literature and Composition
7 January 2009
More After Death

In Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway, the protagonist, Clarissa Dalloway, is often characterized by her actions and thoughts. But Woolf further characterizes her through on of her theories about life: that one must seek the things that complete a person in life to truly understand his/her complete being. In this case, Mrs. Dalloway is characterized through another character’s point of view, Peter Walsh’s, which allows for an external opinion of herself. In the end, Woolf’s complex sentence structure leads the readers into entering a wandering mind which later reveals the everlasting life people have through other people and places.
In the first part of the description of the theory, Peter’s dismissive tone suggests his little belief in Clarissa’s theory. Both of them were on top of an omnibus when Clarissa presented her theory: “to explain the feeling they had of dissatisfaction; not knowing people; not being known” (152). Even before this, Peter had said, “they had heaps of theories, always theories, as young people have” (152). At first thought Peter didn’t want to think about the validity of that statement, but he later had “agreed, how little one knew people” (152). Clarissa continued explaining, “she felt herself everywhere; not ‘here, here, here’” (152). Her description of “everywhere” was in other people, in other places. Clarrisa’s person was not just her in her body. Parts of her whole were found in other “people who completed them,” such as her family, and Peter Walsh (153). Not only the people, but “even the places” that tell so much of Clarissa’s life, such as Bourton (153).
In the second part of the theory, Clarissa extended it to the situation when someone dies, suggesting that part of people live forever. Peter says of Clarissa, “with her horror of death…the part of us which appears, are so momentary compared with the other, the unseen part of us, which spreads wide, the unseen might survive” (153). Clarissa implies that the parts of people that were attached to other people and other places survive, meaning that some part of the dead person also survives. In Clarissa’s fright, or even curiosity of death, she finds some comfort in knowing that parts of her will survive, in Bourton and in the people closest to her. At the end of the “theory” discussion, Peter thinks about it and relates Clarissa to a place. He says that “he saw her most often in the country, not in London” (153). In the end, even he had accepted Clarissa’s theory to some extent, identifying her with another place.
By adding in this “theory” into her book, Woolf develops the theme of life after death in her book, which is important in figuring out the meaning and purpose of Septimus’s death. Clarissa’s theory is supported by the rest of the book. Most of the novel concerns people’s innermost thoughts rather than what’s on the surface, their visible actions. The people’s thoughts (like when Clarissa informed the readers of Bourton, her past with Peter etc.) connect people and things. Woolf’s choice of adding this theory into her book gives the three main characters, Clarissa, Peter, and Septimus, comfort in leaving life.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Greasy Baptism (Setting)

Katie Lopes
Ms. Clapp
AP Literature and Composition
30 September 2008

Greasy Baptism

In Greasy Lake by T. Coraghessan Boyle, the main characters are classified as rebellious teenagers who are looking for trouble during summer vacation. In the end, the narrator reaches a turning point in the road to maturity. Coraghessan demonstrates that there are those moments of epiphanies in everyone’s life; people change. Coraghessan uses the setting of the story, being at a lake, to allow the narrator to be ironically baptized, which in the end shows his change in maturity and in character.
Before the “baptism,” the three friends were immature and lacked adult mentality. The narrator acknowledges himself that they “were all dangerous characters then” (130). They were three 19 year olds who “didn’t give a shit about anything” (130). This included consequences. They didn’t care about anything that happened to them, i.e. the consequences of drinking, of fighting, and of not caring. At two in the morning, “there was nothing to do but take a bottle of lemon-flavored gin up to Greasy Lake” (131). The three guys had no responsibilities or cares in the world. They even attempted to rape a girl at the lake, another act of adolescent immaturity. The lake was but another place to be bad.
The ironic greasy baptism is the point of change for the narrator, an epiphany. Having to jump into that lake was like being forced to see all of the horrible things that the narrator has done. There were “frogs, crickets” (134). As he jumped in, he conjured up the image of “reeking frogs and muskrats revolving in slicks of their own deliquescing juices” (134). That’s quite a gross thought. And yet, that is what the narrator was surrounded by, his own mistakes. When the narrator came face to face with the dead body, he “stumbled back in horror and revulsion” (134). Finally in the lake, the narrator felt his “jaws [ache], [his] knee [throb]” (135). It was as if he suddenly felt the consequences of his actions. That lake forced him to realize that, thus changing his mind towards his actions. It symbolized the death of a young delinquent that he once was, and the birth of a decent man.
After the “greasy baptism,” the description of setting perfectly foiled the change in the narrator. The more pleasant birds (associated with day rather than crickets with night) “had begun to take over” (136). There was a “smell in the air, raw and sweet at the same time, the smell of the sun firing buds and opening blossoms” (136). This symbolizes the beginning of change. The sun is just rising up; the narrator has just changed. The blossoms were opening, showing a new beginning. And of course, there is one last temptation that had to be resisted to show the change. When a girl in tight jeans offered the guys to take pills with her, Digby responded (speaking for all of them), “some other time” (137). This last girl was the ultimate temptation and he’s decided that he’s had enough. One of the last descriptions in the story is of the “sheen of sun on the lake” (137). Again, this reinforces the little change, the new beginning.
The setting is the main factor in this short story. How could the narrator have been baptized in a park? Certainly his ironic baptism symbolized the change in character and the rejection of the woman showed that. In the end, the narrator submerges into the dirty water of Greasy Lake in retreat and emerges with a cleansed sense of maturity and understanding.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Marjorie Agosin Research Paper






This is me and Marjorie Agosin, my poet. Well, not mine, but you know what I mean.

Katie Lopes-Raftery
Ms. Clapp
AP Literature and Composition
23 December 2008


No Hablo Ingles


Sólo en español. Yo no scrivo en inglés. That is Ms. Marjorie Agosín’s one condition in writing poetry. Where there is English poetry, Spanish came first. In 1971, Marjorie Agosín went into exile, unwilling to remain in Chile, after her home country was ruled by a dictatorship. During that time, “almost 400 women…had been raped, strangled, mutilated beyond recognition, and left in vacant lots, ditches, or usually, the desert” in the city of Ciudad Juarez (Olszewski). Agosín lived through the dictatorship at a distance, but her friends “lived through it in too great proximity and sometimes [she] could barely recognize them or understand them” (Chile in my Heart). At the beginning of the dictatorship and throughout the exile, Agosín wrote about “the disappeared,” evocating darkness, exposing injustice in the world, and about the people who suffer most under inefficient types of government; she showed the effects of the darkest part of human nature. When Agosín visited Chile after its dictatorship had been dissolved, Agosín started to write poems devoted to “joy, astonishment, and passion for life” (The Fullness of Invisible Objects 9). She began to reveal the true beauty of life, often found in small, unnoticed things, like the astonishment in counting the stars.


Although Agosín was raised in Chile, she was born in 1955 in Bethesda, Maryland, USA, a country in which she felt like she did not belong (Marjorie Agosín). Due to the overthrow of the Chilean government, Agosín came back to the United States, along with her parents, Moises and Frida Agosín. Salvador Allende’s (the “tyrant” at the time) “overthrow had isolated [them] more” (Chile in My Heart). Living in Chile during that time did not seem right, especially since “fear made [them] turn into a country full of strangers” (Chile in My Heart). Thus, Agosín and her family fled from the problems, escaping to the United States, hoping it would be a better place to live. However, there was one thing that she could never leave behind in Chile: the Spanish language. Writing in Spanish gave Agosín a “sense of identity” (Jubado). Leaving her home in Chile did not have to mean losing her soul, her being. In order to avoid being displaced in a void, Agosín kept the thing that was truly hers, the Spanish language. In order not to betray who she was, or where she came from, Agosín never wrote in English. Writing in Spanish connected her to her homeland, whether it was under a suitable government or not.


In the period that Agosín fled from Chile, she exposed the dark side of the world, writing about the true reality of life as it was, no bias attached. In her collection of poems, Dear Anne Frank she addresses Anne Frank herself. Even though the dialogue is addressed to a deceased Jewish girl, it also “raises questions that have to do with the dictatorships of Latin America’s extremist right, and particularly that of [her] native country, Chile” (Dear Anne Frank ix). In one certain poem, (all are untitled), Agosín tells how the discrimination towards Anne began, and the direct effect she first noticed. Anne Frank could not go “out after eight at night” (Dear Anne Frank 17). Her streets were “filled with the thirsty and/ fear-stricken. [Her] feet quit crossing through windswept/pastures” (Dear Anne Frank 17). In all of Agosín’s “darker” poems, she uses vivid imagery, causing the readers to see Anne Frank getting home before eight and her neighbors, fear-stricken; the readers feel like they are right in front of her.


In Agosín’s poem on page 49, she not only uses imagery, but the effect of that imagery evokes pity in the readers. She writes, “On the threshold of night,/ when darkness is no/ longer luminous,/ you, Anne Frank,/ curled up with death” (Dear Anne Frank 49). Agosín definitely makes known that it is night, and dark pervades the scene as it does to the situation that happened in real life. At that time, Hitler’s decisions negatively impacted Anne and her family, as seen in the line “curled up with death.” Here is a place where Agosín suggests the parallel between her and Anne, how they both had to live under a dictator whose decisions only hurt them. The difference was that Agosín had a choice to leave; Anne was stuck. Anne was not dead yet, but she slept every day with that fear. The poem continues, “you envisioned it next to your mutilated arms,/ felt its sinister heart beating/ next to the golden roundness of your ear.” Here, the antecedent of “your” is death; Anne dealt with the idea of death as something normal for that young age. Agosín’s negative connotative words (mutilated, sinister) make the readers feel dislike towards the cause of pain to Anne (Hitler) and pity for the girl that had to deal with it. Agosín intertwines pathos into her poems so that the readers, too, can skim the surface of the treatment Anne had to deal with.


Lastly, in a poem on page 23, Agosín conveys her ideas in the form of rhetorical questions, which causes the readers to reflect on the answers in their minds. She first writes, “Wasn’t it possible to take in all the sick?…Was it possible to be human?/ though, yes, it was possible/ to accuse,/ to denounce/ to banish,/ to terrorize the sick, the crippled,/ to destroy shops,/ smashing windows, fire-bombing.” In the beginning of the poem, Agosín’s rhetorical questions seem to function for reflection, as if they were never to be answered. However, Agosín answers those questions, assuring that not only is it possible for those things to happen, but unfortunately, they did indeed happen. Again, Agosín is showing the parts of certain societies that they had wished to keep a secret. As Hitler caused these things to happen in Germany, the dictator in her home country also introduced certain social reforms that to the rest of the world were appalling. Agosín finishes the poem by saying “It was possible/ to force them to undress,/ with the prophecy of a Star tattooed/ on their breasts.” Agosín shows that this is a reality that people had to deal with, not a mere nightmare or movie. Agosín herself experienced a part of Anne’s reality, and her poems in this book extended that feeling of unfortunate reality to the readers.


After Agosín moved back to Chile in a time of peace, she published The Fullness of Invisible Objects which is a “homage to life, to nature, the seasons, and love” (The Fullness of Invisible Objects 9). It is also devoted to “joy, astonishment, and a passion for life” (The Fullness of Invisible Objects 9). In the past, Agosín spent a lot of time writing about darkness and pain, about tortured people and souls, that now was her time to go on the other side and see the good in life. It was time for her to write about the little things that astonished her, like looking at the stars.


After moving back to Chile, Agosín found happiness and delight in the little things she once loved as a child. In her poem Living by the Sea, she writes, “you sense its presence/ with the clarity of love,” referring to the sea (The Fullness of Invisible Objects 13). She continues reflecting, “you read poems by the sea/ the soul grows lighter/ because to read is to love” (The Fullness of Invisible Objects 13). From where she used to write about the soul growing darker, she now can see that there are things that can make it grow lighter, and that this clarity signifies the goodness that exists in the world. From her experiences, Agosín sees that although there is a lot of injustice in the world, there is also a lot of good in it, hidden in simple things.


In Agosín’s poem Gratitude, she magnifies the appreciation she feels from such small things. Her opening lines, “Gratitude for the fullness/ of invisible things,” express simply her appreciation for those small things, those small reminders of the good in the world (The Fullness of Invisible Objects 17). She begins each next stanza with small things that she’s grateful for: “…for messenger angels…for you and your hands…for small things” (The Fullness of Invisible Objects 17-18). She is grateful for the ability to “[dream] of a poem,” being able to write (The Fullness of Invisible Objects18). Her repetitions in the beginning of the sentences reinforce the juxtaposing of a great appreciation for the smallest things.


In Agosín’s poem, Waking up at Fifty, she reminisces about the difference in her views as a young girl, and now at fifty years old. She points out a big difference in taking risks when she says “Each day you dare to feel,/ you extend your hands that mingle with/ trees, nocturnal poppies…” (The Fullness of Invisible Objects 33). This whole poem revolves around the idea of taking more risks as one gets older. In comparing this to Anne Frank and Agosín’s situation under abusive governments, they could not take risks as many young people do. She only truly enjoyed this privilege later in her life. In the end, Agosín admits that “It is a pleasure to take risks,/ to let everything flow, to feel everything, to allow/ everything to be in the rustling of leaves and precious stones/ like those you held in your pockets as a child when you played with the universe” (The Fullness of Invisible Objects 37). Here Agosín connects the new enlightenment as an adult to her childhood memories of holding these stones as a child, unaware of the universe of meaning it had behind it.


As a whole, Agosín’s work demonstrates a passion for the condition of the human spirit, as demonstrated in the change in her poetry. She has the talent of capturing man’s darkest hour yet is still capable of magnifying the importance of a small object. Agosín writes to make us readers “believe in the possibility of inhabiting this planet with dignity,” and this powerful statement is conveyed no other way than in her poetry, full of imagery and meaning to the human soul (The Fullness of Invisible Objects 10).




Works Cited



Agosín, Marjorie. "Chile in My Heart." Southwest Review Summer 2008: 1-5. Boston Public Library Biographical resource Center. Malden Public Library, Malden. 18 Dec. 2008 <http://infotrac.galegroup.com/ezproxy.bpl.org/itw/infomark>.


Agosín, Marjorie. Dear Anne Frank: Poems. Trans. Richard Schaaf and Cola Franzen. New York: University P of New England, 1998.


Agosín, Marjorie. The Fullness of Invisible Objects / La Plenitud de Los Objetos Invisible. Trans. Laura Rocha Nakazawa. Grand Rapids: Sherman Asher, 2007.


Jubado, Salva C. "Marjorie Agosín-Connecting Through Poetry." Criticas Magazine 15 Aug. 2007. 25 Nov. 2008 <http://www.criticasmagazine.com/article/CA6468271.html>.


"Marjorie Agosín- Wikipedia." Wikipedia. 30 Nov. 2008. 22 Dec. 2008 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marjorie_Agos%C3%ADn.


Olszewski, Lawrence. "Secrets in the Sand: The Young Women of Ciudad Juarez Book Review." 1 Aug. 2006. Boston Public Library Biographical Resource Center. Malden High School Library, Malden. 18 Dec. 2008 .



















I'm Not Scared Essay

Katie Lopes-Raftery
Ms. Clapp
AP Literature and Composition
15 December 2008

A Dark Secret

In Niccolo Ammaniti's novel I'm Not Scared Michele journeys from a joyful innocent child into a perceptive and wiser youth, entering the adult part of society. When Michele accidentally discovers a dark secret, it is his responsibility in being alive and a good person to bring justice to the situation. In his discovery of the dark side in society, Michele matures and is courageous enough to do something.

The dark side of human nature prompts Michele to struggle between his conscience and loyalty. When first finding Filippo in a covered hole near an abandoned house, Michele is frightened, and doesn’t know what to do. He returns often to see if the boy is still there, until someone catches him. When Michele finds out that his own father is part of the kidnappers, he is left frozen in thought and in action. He realizes that the adults are cruel and is astounded when he notices his father stating "two ears we'll cut off. Two!" (127). Towards the end of the book, Michele describes his father as a boogeyman saying: “By day he was good, but at night he was bad” (80). This comment shows the true nature of some of the characters not only in this book but in life. The “Pino” that Michele sees isn’t the same one as his partners in crime see. Michele’s realization that adults may have hidden intentions prompted his courage to surface and help save Filippo.

In this short novel, Michele learns that the temptation to do wrong doesn’t discriminate upon ages. His discovery of evil roots in the one he loved the most prompted him to forget fear and hold tight onto the goodness in living for justice.