Showing posts with label euphemism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label euphemism. Show all posts

Thursday, October 6, 2011

I should probably not take everything in this poem literally.

"Do not go gentle into that good night. / Rage, rage against the dying of the light" ("Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night," 18-19 and half of the other lines).

I'd first like to point out that we wrote villanelles last year in English, and I wrote mine about an old man telling kids to get off his lawn. The benefit of the villanelle is presumably the repetition of two refrains over and over again, connecting all of the ideas throughout the poem.

Going "gentle into that good night" is probably a euphemism-y metaphor for a quiet death like our friend Tennyson described in "Crossing the Bar." However, as the speaker addresses his father, he is making a case against a quiet death. Question two is staring me down, so I'm going to try to tackle the speaker's view of the various types of men toward death.

The speaker argues that they all have relatively calamitous deaths for separate reasons:

  • Wise men: because their words "forked no lightning" (5), which presents a bunch of confusing images to me, most of which end in electrocution. I think it means that the words of the wise aren't received as well as they would like them to be.
  • Good men: because their "frail deeds" did not "dance" as they would have liked them to (8)? Maybe the deeds of good men seem unsubstantial and ineffective in retrospect.
  • Wild men: because they "grieved" the sun as the "caught and sang" it (10-11). This is a little bit too metaphorical for my taste. It's a metaphor for . . . being ashamed of their lives, perhaps.
  • Grave men: because they see with "blinding sight" (13). They have a very good understanding of life and death.
That was a lot of speculation on my part. My point is that the speaker doesn't want his father to go "gently" because none of those other guys in the four groups go gently for whatever reasons.

Ooh.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Mm, cheese . . .

"'And do you suppose' -- I said this gently, without a hint of sarcasm -- 'if we're driving all that way, we should think about calling in on Tommy? Seeing his centre's just down the road from where this boat's meant to be?'" (Never Let Me Go, 216).

Kathy's discussion with Ruth in chapter eighteen revealed her to be a dynamic character. When she was a teenager, she was very sarcastic (as I quoted in an earlier post):
"'It didn't hurt, did it? When I hit you?' 
'Sure. Fractured skull. Concussion, the lot. Even Crow Face might notice it. That's if I ever get up there'" (Never Let Me Go, 14).
Additionally, the two of them were able to talk without any quarreling. The mature conversation effectively demonstrates that the characters are no longer children or teenagers but adults. Even Ruth, now, is comfortable reflecting on the past without trying to pretend it didn't happen.

I also want to point out another euphemism in the book: Kathy said that donors "complete" rather than die. I feeeeel like that was the exact same word used in Brave New World to describe death, but I might be wrong about that.

Speaking of being comfortable reflecting on the past, there's one thing I forgot to include in an earlier blog. One of the veterans talked about how "eating cheese late at night always disturbed your sleep" (189); it reminded Kathy of Hailsham, but it reminded me of how I always eat cheese late at night. The word "always" in that sentence was not a hyperbole.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Speculation, Speculation, Speculation

"'What's going to happen to us one day. Donations and all that'" (Never Let Me Go, 29).

I don't know what "donations" are, which is probably Ishiguro's intention. He's been using euphemisms like "donations," "donors," and "carers" throughout the first few chapters without explanation. I'm pretty certain he's leaving open ends for us to speculate about the futures of Kathy, Ruth, Tommy, and friends. So I'm going to start speculating.

I've picked up on a few things that seem to be motifs. One of them I mentioned in my last post -- it seems to be vital that the author identify whether or not certain areas are safe for private conversation. I was wrong in my last post; apparently, the lake is not so good for that. That maaakes me think that the donors and carers have one-on-one sessions sort of like the ones that have happened in the book so far. Maybe there are exchanges of secrets.


Also, I found another person with a last initial of H. First, "Kathy H." on page three, and "Carole H." on page thirty-two. Maybe the carers get last initials of H. when they grow up.