First, read Julian Barnes's "Grief" in Brief Encounters (p. 307). In terms of its structure and strategy, this essay is notable for three reasons. First, Barnes titles his essay "Grief," but he never uses the word "grief" (or even "sadness") in the essay, nor does he use a generic pronoun "it" to stand in for "grief." Rather, he lets his description stand alone. Second, Barnes explores and defines an emotion by manipulating his use of pronouns, moving from the plural "we" to the singular "I." Third, he explores the emotion of grief by using the metaphor of observation and distance, first with the comparison to "aerial surveying" and then to "photographs of photographs."
For this post, think about an intense emotion that you have experienced at a pivotal moment in your life. The emotion may be positive, negative, or some ambiguous combination of positive/negative. Next, write one paragraph in which you describe/define that emotion without ever using the name of the emotion itself or using "it" to refer to the emotion. Rather, let your description stand alone. In this paragraph, manipulate your use of pronouns (shifting between two or more of the first-person singular "I" or plural "we," the second-person "you," and the third-person singular "he, she, it" or plural "they"). Finally, explore this emotion by using a metaphor to compare it to an object or experience that allows your reader to "see" or "get" the emotion through your description.
My grandmother passed away weeks before I graduated high school. It was hard, it was harder for my grandfather.ws They were inseparable. They were like most old couples, stubborn and always nit picking, but they loved each other. The memorial service that was held for my grandmother was heart retching. The emotions in that room were incredible. My cousin had put together a slide show in her honor. The pictures and emotions filled that room. Emotions that could never be completely explained. The vibes and the aura could be seen by every single person in that room. My father stood in front of everyone and spoke of my grandmother so fondly. You could feel what he was feeling. The words he spoke, little words, but you could feel that emotion behind each spoken word. Emotions of a thunderstorm in a bright summer.
ReplyDeleteThe hospital drapes are open yet the light inside is so dim. I can tell it's not the first time you have been here, so welcoming on this occasion. Crying and sobbing while hoping and praying. This unreal sense of being permeates throughout my body, numbing it from head to toe. It is as if you want to take my breathe away. You continue to pound on my heart, harder and harder. A volcano has erupted inside, flooding my mind with yesterdays hopes and today's regrets.
ReplyDeleteIt was bleak October, and we fancied ourselves a stroll to a quaint cemetery. For months we had publicly gambled our safety by dressing ourselves in ghoulish attire. We had all agreed that it cannot be the reason for our cowardice. At long last, we dared to honestly express ourselves. Uplifted, I whistled to the ravens and crows, and we admired the expensive coordination of our grave attire. Had we been out in daylight then surely unsolicited mockery would ensue. I finally set that terrible emotion aside for the time being. We bid it not to overcome us. We noticed that a large group of people were walking behind us in this dead of night, and to our dismay, they knew who we were. They were the infamous clique that notoriously bullied us. So it dawned upon us—surely something terrible was going to happen. We continued walking to our destination with them trailing behind us, and I whispered that we were surely done for. It grew above us; it surrounded us all. As we finally reached the tombstones and withered bouquets, we bid each other good luck and diverged onto our own paths. We sprinted for safety, and they sprinted after us. He sprinted after me, and I heard him shrieking at me to run, run, run! Only the night sky glimmered above us, and it was always there. It was the blackness ahead of me, it was the unknown of my pathetic retreat, and it overcame me entirely that day.
ReplyDeleteShe followed me, watching my every step and copying it faithfully. Her shoes followed my own, as if I knew all. As if I had a plan. She put her faith in me to lead her, to take her where we needed to go. Perhaps, in her mind, there was no step she could take astray if she simply copied my own. As she looked up at the back of my head, I responded by looking down, watching carefully each step to be taken. I had no paths to follow, no guidance of my own. Each step was uncharted, each move something new. Yet I had to walk as though I had trekked this journey before, as though I could not fail. The paths opened before me, each one twisting in a different way, opening before me many possibilities. Steps became stuttered, scrambled, and as I halted, I could feel her halt behind me, too. As the air pressed upon me and the gaze seared my back, I knew I had to make a choice.
ReplyDeleteAnd when another took my place as leader, when she followed them instead, I could only sink to the ground. The first real breath in minutes.
-Amber G.
A skinny drunk man pounded on the front door wearing nothing but a pair of ripped shorts. They quickly awoke from their beds and rushed to discover what was taking place outside what they thought to be was a quiet and safe place to reside. I wept hoping that whatever was about to happen was quickly over. My mother attempted to comfort me as the pounding grew louder and I felt an altercation was about to occur. It was clear the world had unexpectedly become a storm in only a matter of minutes.
ReplyDeletePaige Oliver
All day long the drifting continues with heavy thinking. With myself to bear the time, I cannot help but wonder what the future brings. What is he doing and why does he do it? This type of floating does not help me but, he continues to do so leaving them with questions. We want to get better and move on but the mind is a mobius strip returning to the same spot. Time is the only won one strong enough to win.
ReplyDeleteCarlos Montejo
At the beginning of this year, my dog, who I had since I was 11 years old got very sick. Though I was not present on his last few hours, due to being a school, got notified by my brother about what was happening. Doctors said that there was nothing to do to prevent him from suffering, the less painful thing to do was to put him down so that he wouldn't have to endure anymore pain. Getting home that night, felt so unreal as I walked into the backyard and he was no longer there to greet me. It hit me and my brother so hard that we did not know how to grieve. Having to be numb and strong at the same time was the hardest to do. Have not been able to forgive myself for not being there with him as he took his last breaths. I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders.
ReplyDeleteIt all started with a phone on an early Wednesday morning, almost three years ago. The call came from from my mom. It was an extremely strange phone call because she never calls me at 6:00 am. As I picked up the phone I could sense there was something off about her. I answered the phone and I could hear her voice start to break. She couldn’t find the right words to tell me. My mom stood quiet for a second and in that second I began to shed tears. I knew what she was going to say but I just did not want to believe it. The news broke my heart in to a million tiny pieces. Once my mom ended the call I got ready for class. As soon as I got out of class I talked with my professor and told him my situation and that I wasn’t going to attend class the next couple of days. I packed a few things and drove to Los Angeles. The drive was an endless one and the day suddenly turned into a terrible nightmare that I was waiting to wake up from.
ReplyDeleteKimberly Irineo-Donato
We were there, happier than we had ever been up until that point. He looked at me and I at him. Tears that had never been shed in this way were streaming from our faces. The sweetness of that day still fills the air as we reminisce. When we looked at one another on that day, everything made sense that happened to that point. Ever since that day, I can still feel what we did that day. Nothing can make us happier than this. A day we lived then and over again.
ReplyDeleteMy heart feels as if it is going to burn to ashes. We stare at each other, while I hold you in my arms. You no longer smile. You no longer give me my kisses when I walk through the door. I know what you are asking of me. The promise that was made seventeen years ago, when I took you home from that cage, has now come to an end. He was always the protector, the Alpha, and my constant companion.The word "was" will now have to be part of my vocabulary when I talk about you. There will no longer be an us. There will only be what was. I hold your face as another page turns in the story of my life.
ReplyDeletePractice is given with each night of sleep, the cessation of breath and encompassing darkness. This depletion of the pair towards the singularity is practiced from an early state, leaving the singular without the couple. Our conversations become past tense with all remaining encompassed by a shroud in the loss of breath. The past tense weighs heavily upon the future, graduations, marriage, children all shaded in a aging sepia hue. The raw influx sinking as a lifeboat low in the middle of black water, the threat of capsizing imminent and real. The lifeboat shutters endlessly as voices urge movement towards the other side, the healing. A wife sits without the matching set, a child cut in half with a lack of complete understanding. A space remains as the aisle lays out ahead littered with congratulations, the slow march empty with memories. Possibilities wiped away as the book closes, the bike is finally released as the child moves forward.
ReplyDeleteI stand at the sidewalk, waiting for the light to turn green. The need for me to cross the street increases as I look back and see your shadow approach. We made eye contact when I looked back. I began to run away from you, not knowing cars are approaching the intersection. I wipe away my tears as I dodge cars, and continue sprinting across the intersection looking for refuge. You stand on one side of the street while I hide on the other side of the street. You cannot see me, but you smile looking in my direction while I wipe away my tears hiding behind a tree.
ReplyDeleteShe used to be cute. Imitating every move I make, expressing her emotions like an open book. She used to laugh at my stupid jokes. Her smiles were radiant, filling in warm to the atmosphere. When she was angry, she used her pink braided pigtails like a helicopter, flying in the sky. With every headshake, her deadly weapon works like a whip, leaving me red marks on my skin. When she was sad, her cheeks would pout like a chipmunk; then she would look at me with her puppy eyes to beg for my attention.
ReplyDeleteShe used to be annoying. Getting herself in trouble so that I would pay more attention to her. She would grab my leg and bare her entire weight, like a koala holding on the tree, so that I wouldn’t get away. I used to nag her, telling her to grow up, but I guess we end up switching our roles. When did all this become the past? When did she become this mature and independent?
Remember how we used to be partners in crime? Remember how we used to sing on the top of our lungs when our favorite song comes on the radio? Remember the days when we used to share our ice-creams and sodas? What happened to those sweet memories? What happened to us? I guess, at some point, the ice-cream melts, and the soda becomes flat. The bubbles dissipate and fizz into nothingness. She left me and created a barrier between her and I. I used to feel everything emotion with her, but now I don't feel anything. I feel numb. She was a baby bird learning how to fly, now leaving the nest. She took a soar to the sky, leaving me behind.
Jenny W.
Twelve hours waiting outside the room 214. I tried to open the door, but my mother did not let me. She was sitting next to me. She was praying. I tried to keep my thoughts positive, but it was so hard. I remember every sound around me and what they made me feel. Doctors and nurses were going in and out the room. I was waiting for an explanation, but no one said something. No one answered my questions. No one even looked at me and told me what was happening. Few minutes later, I heard a horrible sound from inside the room. At that point, I did not think anything. I opened the door and saw her. She was on a bed, two nurses next to her, and a doctor was touching her hand. "Grandma," I said, but she did not reply. "Grandma," I said again. A nurse tried to take me out of the room, but I did not let her touch me. I looked at my grandma, and I saw tears on her cheeks. "What is happening?" I asked, but before I got an answer, my mother took me out the room. Three hours later and I was at the same place, waiting outside the room 214. Finally, a doctor opened the door and I heard her voice calling me. "Alondra," it was my grandma. I could feel my tears falling down my cheeks. It was her voice. It was my grandma. she was calling me.
ReplyDeleteAlondra Moreno
My mind replayed the days of a better time, a time where I long to be. We stare at an old album book and a sad smile appears. I used to sit carefree and without worry, now I sit and remember. Time tics further from the past. You skip along and only find out that the good days are in the past. We continue to bother the cavity of my body. Time is a thief with no mercy.
ReplyDeleteGone are lazy afternoons spent nestled in her warm loving care. She a vivacious head strong independent women, now a brittle shell in danger of collapsing to the breeze. I do not know when and I do not know how, as I was to absorbed in finding myself. Names and actions left to drift in the open sea. The years of connections she built with many, eroding away. Her thoughts wandering while ours only growing and developing bending to our will. We can do nothing, just clasp our hands firmly to pray and hope devoutly to a god for a miracle. I will always keep your former self locked in my heart, though you will not know. And as the lightning struck our inner core, gone was your body along with your mind. You are lost no more.
ReplyDeleteWe both knew that this road had long ended. This road became quickly filled up with potholes and avoiding them was impossible at this point. With lots of time and effort invested we remained in the same situation. All the joy, tears, memories, and laughter were meaningless now. They all knew it was our time to end too because they saw me drowning from a glass of water he was pouring. I was finally free.
ReplyDeleteFear. I watched as the rocket let down between two helicopters on an airfield in Kandahar, Afghanistan. I watched in amazement as it blossomed a hot flower of fire and shrapnel. I stood enraptured at the site of it all as I heard the tin can sound of the hot pieces of rocket and gravel fall around us on the open airfield. I am pushed to the ground by a fellow aircraft mechanic, and hit the pavement as another rocket lands not too far from the first. I find myself in a bunker a short time later not remembering how I got there. We exit when the all clear sounds, and walk back to the relative safety of the hanger. I see a piece of the rocket on the ground, and bend to pick it up. I still feel it's heat, even while wearing gloves. Fear.
ReplyDeleteTime stood still as you stare at me. I hope you felt it too as I did the same. The busy world flew by yet all I can see moving is you. My heart pounds harder and faster with each stop you took. Before I know it, you were in front of me. You reach for my had yet all I felt was the jolt of electricity that shot through my arm and into my heart. The connection sparked the fire in my heart, and before I knew it, it ignited the fireworks of my soul.
ReplyDelete