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Showing posts from February, 2013

The Team by Bernie Comaskey

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  People exuding pride, a determination to succeed and succeed they certainly did!  The Team is about solidarity and in this microcosm of fictional Ballymona for the locals and "exiles" who are magnetically drawn to their homeland like an umbilical cord attached to a newborn babe for heart-warming celebrations and reunions. Of course it's not just about solidarity, the characters also display a "sense of camaraderie and joviality" of people who exude pride and there's plenty of that in abundant quantities evident in Comaskey's recent debut novel. The narrative is lyrical and the author has adopted an autobiographical style reminiscent of Dylan Thomas's Under Milk Wood, just like a soap , here everyone knows everyone else's business and I mean everyone! No secrets barred. Johnny Murtagh, publican, needs to be "affable" and he is central to the plot in creating unity and harmony with a backdrop of volatility with the almos

A Stranger From Lagos by Cyprian Ekwensi Final Part

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                                                                    courtesy of Google images Lilian uses her sexuality to liberate as well as attract the opposite sex. Ekwensi uses "wiggled." Lilian had just had her hair done and was wearing very large, loop earrings. This had been done for her lover's benefit. She was conscious of all the eyes watching the two of them. The writer uses the simile: she felt like something projected on a 3D screen for all Onitsha to view. We are told very little about the stranger other than that he was tall and good-looking. We are told he didn't feel embarrassed by all of the attention. He would ruin her reputation and he was well aware of this: he would scandalize her and then she would be left to the gossips. You get the sense that this has probably happened before. The dialogue here is disjointed. Mystery surrounds him but his desire to see Lilian is compelling: "I have wanted to see you" and he refers to his

A Stranger From Lagos by Cyprian Ekwensi

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  image courtesy of Google images   Ekwensi was born in Nigeria in 1921. He wrote about the country and people of Nigeria-city life and life in the rural areas. Loko Towns and Other Stories was published in 1966. A Stranger From Lagos was one of the nine stories in that collection.   The writer explores the place of women in society. Lilian is trapped by social conventions. Her fiance treats her like a possession as if he owns her. It is written in third person to allow the writer's thoughts to merge with Lilian's. The protagonist is unable to speak to the stranger in public although it is obvious that there is a strong physical attraction between the two. If Lilian asserts herself she will go against social conventions (for females) and her reputation will be damaged through rife and unhealthy gossip. She will therefore be stigmatised as a loose woman. The story explores her inner conflicts in accepting these "conventions" or flaunting them as well a

First Love by John Clare. Part 3 Final.

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Stanza 3. Clare begins this stanza with a number of rhetorical devices. The use of nature in "flowers" and "winter" seem to be questioning free will in human terms. Does it really exist? Interpreted in a more natural way, is it winter's choice to want flowers growing? Another paradox. If the weather is cold, flowers will not grow and many will die. Our association of rebirth and renewal of life is in spring. In line 2 he uses the image of "love's bed" referring to the consummation perhaps of a relationship in the marital bed. Is this where love is expressed? How is it linked to the previous line when we might refer to a "bed" of flowers, a number of flowers covering a particular space in the garden or park perhaps? Does this mean that like the bed of flowers love is made up of a number of individual but perhaps very different feelings? The "love's bed" is "always snow." Notice the stress on always and what sn

The Lost Cause Part 2. by Carol Naylor

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Anne, Harry and David. In happier days.   Imagine your worst nightmare coming true, having to confront terrifying phobias that will eventually destroy your soul, your very being. Impossible? No! I am still enmeshed in that nightmare of a world, trapped inside it, body and soul, struggling out of desperation. From another perspective: there are beginnings and inevitably, endings, simply referred to as closures. If the pattern of life is cyclical then we can lay to rest experiences that come to an end naturally. Yes? But sadly for some of us life is not as kind and as clear-cut as this and there are no endings to our miseries. We are unfortunate and miserable victims of an unfair world, a world that no longer cares.   Events mingle, time might cloud over our memories but one thing remains-suffering endures beyond Time. Memories become indistinct and distant. Time, usually a healer, becomes a constant reminder of failure and loss, reinforcing our pain and suffering. A vicious

First Love by John Clare. Part 2.

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Courtesy of Poets' Graves website.     And then my blood rushed to my face And took my eyesight quite away The trees and bushes round the place Seemed midnight at noon day I could not see a single thing Words from my eyes did start They spoke as chords do from the string And blood burnt round my heart     Stanza Two:   Clare uses "And" for the sense of continuity to open this stanza showing further examples of how he has been physically affected as in "my blood rushed to my face" and "took my eyesight quite away" used once again metaphorically. Consider the seriousness of how Clare wants you to empathise with him. The notion of being blinded is reminiscent of Cupid-symbolic of love - blindfolded and hence unable to see. The third line refers briefly to nature in the sense of "trees and bushes." It seems that Clare is aware of the background but when he tells you that there "seemed midnight at noon day

First Love by John Clare

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                                                 Courtesy of the Poets' Graves website. "A POET IS BORN NOT MADE." Overview and Stanza 1. "First Love" is simply a poem expressing Clare's love for M ary Joyce. There is evidence that the poem is based on one by Yeats with the same title. This is not uncommon amongst writers. Unfortunately, Joyce's family stopped the relationship from developing and he married Martha (Patty) Turner in 1820 and they had seven children but he was unhappy. The end of his life was tragic and he was institutionalised in an asylum where he died in 1864. Structure: The poem is written in three stanzas. Clare was a 19th Century poet; English critics consider him to be among the most important poets of the 19th Century. His poems are generally about nature and how the Industrial Revolution destroyed nature and the landscape. Notice the rhyme scheme of abab,cdcd etc. which works consistently throughout the poem such as: