✪✪✪ Essay On Indifferent In Romeo And Juliet
Nevertheless, however vigorous Essay On Indifferent In Romeo And Juliet intent, Tchaikovsky's preparations for marriage did not proceed without some severe setbacks. But you also, Modestneed to think seriously about this. The concert was followed by a supper and Essay On Indifferent In Romeo And Juliet presentation of a Essay On Indifferent In Romeo And Juliet wreath. New York. When will it Essay On Indifferent In Romeo And Juliet over?
Romeo and Juliet Essay Introductory Paragraph
Francis Bacon. Richard Hooker. Sidney and Raleigh. John Foxe. Camden and Knox. Hakluyt and Purchas. Thomas North. The Puritan Movement. Changing Ideals. Literary Characteristics. The Transition Poets. Samuel Daniel. The Song Writers. The Spenserian Poets. The Metaphysical Poets. John Donne. George Herbert. The Cavalier Poets. Thomas Carew. Robert Herrick. Suckling and Lovelace. John Milton. The Prose Writers. John Bunyan. Robert Burton. Thomas Browne. Thomas Fuller. Jeremy Taylor. Richard Baxter. Izaak Walton. John Dryden. Samuel Butler. Hobbes and Locke. Evelyn and Pepys. The Classic Age. Alexander Pope. Jonathan Swift. Joseph Addison. Boswell's "Life of Johnson. Edmund Burke. Edward Gibbon. The Revival of Romantic Poetry. Thomas Gray. Oliver Goldsmith.
William Cowper. Robert Burns. William Blake. The Minor Poets of the Romantic Revival. James Thomson. William Collins. George Crabbe. James Macpherson. Thomas Chatterton. Thomas Percy. The First English Novelists. Meaning of the Novel. Precursors of the Novel. Discovery of the Modern Novel. Daniel Defoe. Samuel Richardson. Henry Fielding. Smollett and Sterne. Historical Summary. Literary Characteristics of the Age. The Poets of Romanticism.
William Wordsworth. Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Robert Southey. Walter Scott. Percy Bysshe Shelley. John Keats. Thomas De Quincey. Jane Austen. Walter Savage Landor. Poets of the Victorian Age. Alfred Tennyson. Robert Browning. Minor Poets of the Victorian Age. Elizabeth Barrett. Novelists of the Victorian Age. Charles Dickens. William Makepeace Thackeray. George Eliot. Minor Novelists of the Victorian Age. Charles Reade. Anthony Trollope. Bulwer Lytton. Charles Kingsley. Essayists of the Victorian Age. Matthew Arnold. The Spirit of Modern Literature. Property of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Hold the hye wey, and lat thy gost thee lede. Chaucer's Truth On, on, you noblest English, Follow your spirit.
Shakespeare's Henry V. A child and a man were one day walking on the seashore when the child found a little shell and held it to his ear. Suddenly he heard sounds,--strange, low, melodious sounds, as if the shell were remembering and repeating to itself the murmurs of its ocean home. The child's face filled with wonder as he listened. Here in the little shell, apparently, was a voice from another world, and he listened with delight to its mystery and music. Then came the man, explaining that the child heard nothing strange; that the pearly curves of the shell simply caught a multitude of sounds too faint for human ears, and filled the glimmering hollows with the murmur of innumerable echoes.
It was not a new world, but only the unnoticed harmony of the old that had aroused the child's wonder. Some such experience as this awaits us when we begin the study of literature, which has always two aspects, one of simple enjoyment and appreciation, the other of analysis and exact description. Let a little song appeal to the ear, or a noble book to the heart, and for the moment, at least, we discover a new world, a world so different from our own that it seems a place of dreams and magic. To enter and enjoy this new world, to love good books for their own sake, is the chief thing; to analyze and explain them is a less joyous but still an important matter. Behind every book is a man; behind the man is the race; and behind the race are the natural and social environments whose influence is unconsciously reflected.
These also we must know, if the book is to speak its whole message. In a word, we have now reached a point where we wish to understand as well as to enjoy literature; and the first step, since exact definition is impossible, is to determine some of its essential qualities. Artistic Qualities of Literature. The first significant thing is the essentially artistic quality of all literature. All art is the expression of life in forms of truth and beauty; or rather, it is the reflection of some truth and beauty which are in the world, but which remain unnoticed until brought to our attention by some sensitive human soul, just as the delicate curves of the shell reflect sounds and harmonies too faint to be otherwise noticed.
A hundred men may pass a hayfield and see only the sweaty toil and the windrows of dried grass; but here is one who pauses by a Roumanian meadow, where girls are making hay and singing as they work. He looks deeper, sees truth and beauty where we see only dead grass, and he reflects what he sees in a little poem in which the hay tells its own story:. Yesterday's flowers am I, And I have drunk my last sweet draught of dew. Young maidens came and sang me to my death; The moon looks down and sees me in my shroud, The shroud of my last dew. Yesterday's flowers that are yet in me Must needs make way for all to-morrow's flowers. The maidens, too, that sang me to my death Must even so make way for all the maids That are to come.
And as my soul, so too their soul will be Laden with fragrance of the days gone by. The maidens that to-morrow come this way Will not remember that I once did bloom, For they will only see the new-born flowers. Yet will my perfume-laden soul bring back, As a sweet memory, to women's hearts Their days of maidenhood. And then they will be sorry that they came To sing me to my death; And all the butterflies will mourn for me. I bear away with me The sunshine's dear remembrance, and the low Soft murmurs of the spring. My breath is sweet as children's prattle is; I drank in all the whole earth's fruitfulness, To make of it the fragrance of my soul That shall outlive my death.
One who reads only that first exquisite line, "Yesterday's flowers am I," can never again see hay without recalling the beauty that was hidden from his eyes until the poet found it. In the same pleasing, surprising way, all artistic work must be a kind of revelation. Thus architecture is probably the oldest of the arts; yet we still have many builders but few architects, that is, men whose work in wood or stone suggests some hidden truth and beauty to the human senses. So in literature, which is the art that expresses life in words that appeal to our own sense of the beautiful, we have many writers but few artists.
In the broadest sense, perhaps, literature means simply the written records of the race, including all its history and sciences, as well as its poems and novels; in the narrower sense literature is the artistic record of life, and most of our writing is excluded from it, just as the mass of our buildings, mere shelters from storm and from cold, are excluded from architecture. A history or a work of science may be and sometimes is literature, but only as we forget the subject-matter and the presentation of facts in the simple beauty of its expression.
Suggestive The second quality of literature is its suggestiveness, its appeal to our emotions and imagination rather than to our intellect. It is not so much what it says as what it awakens in us that constitutes its charm. When Milton makes Satan say, "Myself am Hell," he does not state any fact, but rather opens up in these three tremendous words a whole world of speculation and imagination. When Faustus in the presence of Helen asks, "Was this the face that launched a thousand ships? He opens a door through which our imagination enters a new world, a world of music, love, beauty, heroism,--the whole splendid world of Greek literature.
Such magic is in words. When Shakespeare describes the young Biron as speaking. In such apt and gracious words That aged ears play truant at his tales,. The province of all art is not to instruct but to delight; and only as literature delights us, causing each reader to build in his own soul that "lordly pleasure house" of which Tennyson dreamed in his "Palace of Art," is it worthy of its name.
Permanent The third characteristic of literature, arising directly from the other two, is its permanence. The world does not live by bread alone. Notwithstanding its hurry and bustle and apparent absorption in material things, it does not willingly let any beautiful thing perish. This is even more true of its songs than of its painting and sculpture; though permanence is a quality we should hardly expect in the present deluge of books and magazines pouring day and night from our presses in the name of literature. But this problem of too many books is not modern, as we suppose. It has been a problem ever since Caxton brought the first printing press from Flanders, four hundred years ago, and in the shadow of Westminster Abbey opened his little shop and advertised his wares as "good and chepe.
But literature is like a river in flood, which gradually purifies itself in two ways,--the mud settles to the bottom, and the scum rises to the top. When we examine the writings that by common consent constitute our literature, the clear stream purified of its dross, we find at least two more qualities, which we call the tests of literature, and which determine its permanence. The first of these is universality, that is, the appeal to the widest human interests and the simplest human emotions. Though we speak of national and race literatures, like the Greek or Teutonic, and though each has certain superficial marks arising out of the peculiarities of its own people, it is nevertheless true that good literature knows no nationality, nor any bounds save those of humanity.
It is occupied chiefly with elementary passions and emotions,--love and hate, joy and sorrow, fear and faith,--which are an essential part of our human nature; and the more it reflects these emotions the more surely does it awaken a response in men of every race. All these are but shining examples of the law that only as a book or a little song appeals to universal human interest does it become permanent. The second test is a purely personal one, and may be expressed in the indefinite word "style. In a deeper sense, style is the man, that is, the unconscious expression of the writer's own personality. It is the very soul of one man reflecting, as in a glass, the thoughts and feelings of humanity. As no glass is colorless, but tinges more or less deeply the reflections from its surface, so no author can interpret human life without unconsciously giving to it the native hue of his own soul.
It is this intensely personal element that constitutes style. Every permanent book has more or less of these two elements, the objective and the subjective, the universal and the personal, the deep thought and feeling of the race reflected and colored by the writer's own life and experience. The Object in Studying Literature. Aside from the pleasure of reading, of entering into a new world and having our imagination quickened, the study of literature has one definite object, and that is to know men. Now man is ever a dual creature; he has an outward and an inner nature; he is not only a doer of deeds, but a dreamer of dreams; and to know him, the man of any age, we must search deeper than his history. History records his deeds, his outward acts largely; but every great act springs from an ideal, and to understand this we must read his literature, where we find his ideals recorded.
When we read a history of the Anglo-Saxons, for instance, we learn that they were sea rovers, pirates, explorers, great eaters and drinkers; and we know something of their hovels and habits, and the lands which they harried and plundered. All that is interesting; but it does not tell us what most we want to know about these old ancestors of ours,--not only what they did, but what they thought and felt; how they looked on life and death; what they loved, what they feared, and what they reverenced in God and man.
Then we turn from history to the literature which they themselves produced, and instantly we become acquainted. These hardy people were not simply fighters and freebooters; they were men like ourselves; their emotions awaken instant response in the souls of their descendants. At the words of their gleemen we thrill again to their wild love of freedom and the open sea; we grow tender at their love of home, and patriotic at their deathless loyalty to their chief, whom they chose for themselves and hoisted on their shields in symbol of his leadership.
Once more we grow respectful in the presence of pure womanhood, or melancholy before the sorrows and problems of life, or humbly confident, looking up to the God whom they dared to call the Allfather. All these and many more intensely real emotions pass through our souls as we read the few shining fragments of verses that the jealous ages have left us. It is so with any age or people. To understand them we must read not simply their history, which records their deeds, but their literature, which records the dreams that made their deeds possible.
So Aristotle was profoundly right when he said that "poetry is more serious and philosophical than history"; and Goethe, when he explained literature as "the humanization of the whole world. It is a curious and prevalent opinion that literature, like all art, is a mere play of imagination, pleasing enough, like a new novel, but without any serious or practical importance.
Nothing could be farther from the truth. Literature preserves the ideals of a people; and ideals--love, faith, duty, friendship, freedom, reverence--are the part of human life most worthy of preservation. The Greeks were a marvelous people; yet of all their mighty works we cherish only a few ideals,--ideals of beauty in perishable stone, and ideals of truth in imperishable prose and poetry. It was simply the ideals of the Greeks and Hebrews and Romans, preserved in their literature, which made them what they were, and which determined their value to future generations. Our democracy, the boast of all English-speaking nations, is a dream; not the doubtful and sometimes disheartening spectacle presented in our legislative halls, but the lovely and immortal ideal of a free and equal manhood, preserved as a most precious heritage in every great literature from the Greeks to the Anglo-Saxons.
All our arts, our sciences, even our inventions are founded squarely upon ideals; for under every invention is still the dream of Beowulf , that man may overcome the forces of nature; and the foundation of all our sciences and discoveries is the immortal dream that men "shall be as gods, knowing good and evil. In a word, our whole civilization, our freedom, our progress, our homes, our religion, rest solidly upon ideals for their foundation. Nothing but an ideal ever endures upon earth. It is therefore impossible to overestimate the practical importance of literature, which preserves these ideals from fathers to sons, while men, cities, governments, civilizations, vanish from the face of the earth. It is only when we remember this that we appreciate the action of the devout Mussulman, who picks up and carefully preserves every scrap of paper on which words are written, because the scrap may perchance contain the name of Allah, and the ideal is too enormously important to be neglected or lost.
We are now ready, if not to define, at least to understand a little more clearly the object of our present study. Literature is the expression of life in words of truth and beauty; it is the written record of man's spirit, of his thoughts, emotions, aspirations; it is the history, and the only history, of the human soul. It is characterized by its artistic, its suggestive, its permanent qualities. Its two tests are its universal interest and its personal style. Its object, aside from the delight it gives us, is to know man, that is, the soul of man rather than his actions; and since it preserves to the race the ideals upon which all our civilization is founded, it is one of the most important and delightful subjects that can occupy the human mind.
Each chapter in this book includes a special bibliography of historical and literary works, selections for reading, chronology, etc. The following books, which are among the best of their kind, are intended to help the student to a better appreciation of literature and to a better knowledge of literary criticism. General Works. Stephen, edited by A. Blaisdell Willard Small. The Drama. The Novel. Here is the story of Beowulf, the earliest and the greatest epic, or heroic poem, in our literature.
It begins with a prologue, which is not an essential part of the story, but which we review gladly for the sake of the splendid poetical conception that produced Scyld, king of the Spear Danes. At a time when the Spear Danes were without a king, a ship came sailing into their harbor. It was filled with treasures and weapons of war; and in the midst of these warlike things was a baby sleeping. No man sailed the ship; it came of itself, bringing the child, whose name was Scyld. Now Scyld grew and became a mighty warrior, and led the Spear Danes for many years, and was their king. When his son Beowulf  had become strong and wise enough to rule, then Wyrd Fate , who speaks but once to any man, came and stood at hand; and it was time for Scyld to go.
This is how they buried him:. Then Scyld departed, at word of Wyrd spoken, The hero to go to the home of the gods. Sadly they bore him to brink of the ocean, Comrades, still heeding his word of command. There rode in the harbor the prince's ship, ready, With prow curving proudly and shining sails set. Shipward they bore him, their hero beloved; The mighty they laid at the foot of the mast. Treasures were there from far and near gathered, Byrnies of battle, armor and swords; Never a keel sailed out of a harbor So splendidly tricked with the trappings of war. They heaped on his bosom a hoard of bright jewels To fare with him forth on the flood's great breast. No less gift they gave than the Unknown provided, When alone, as a child, he came in from the mere.
High o'er his head waved a bright golden standard-- Now let the waves bear their wealth to the holm. Sad-souled they gave back its gift to the ocean, Mournful their mood as he sailed out to sea. One of Scyld's descendants was Hrothgar, king of the Danes; and with him the story of our Beowulf begins. Hrothgar in his old age had built near the sea a mead hall called Heorot, the most splendid hall in the whole world, where the king and his thanes gathered nightly to feast and to listen to the songs of his gleemen.
One night, as they were all sleeping, a frightful monster, Grendel, broke into the hall, killed thirty of the sleeping warriors, and carried off their bodies to devour them in his lair under the sea. The appalling visit was speedily repeated, and fear and death reigned in the great hall. The warriors fought at first; but fled when they discovered that no weapon could harm the monster. Heorot was left deserted and silent. For twelve winters Grendel's horrible raids continued, and joy was changed to mourning among the Spear Danes. At last the rumor of Grendel crossed over the sea to the land of the Geats, where a young hero dwelt in the house of his uncle, King Hygelac. Beowulf was his name, a man of immense strength and courage, and a mighty swimmer who had developed his powers fighting the "nickers," whales, walruses and seals, in the icebound northern ocean.
When he heard the story, Beowulf was stirred to go and fight the monster and free the Danes, who were his father's friends. With fourteen companions he crosses the sea. There is an excellent bit of ocean poetry here ll. The picture of Wealhtheow passing the mead cup to the warriors with her own hand is a noble one, and plainly indicates the reverence paid by these strong men to their wives and mothers.
Night comes on; the fear of Grendel is again upon the Danes, and all withdraw after the king has warned Beowulf of the frightful danger of sleeping in the hall. But Beowulf lies down with his warriors, saying proudly that, since weapons will not avail against the monster, he will grapple with him bare handed and trust to a warrior's strength. Forth from the fens, from the misty moorlands, Grendel came gliding--God's wrath  he bore-- Came under clouds, until he saw clearly, Glittering with gold plates, the mead hall of men. Down fell the door, though fastened with fire bands; Open it sprang at the stroke of his paw. Swollen with rage burst in the bale-bringer; Flamed in his eyes a fierce light, likest fire. At the sight of men again sleeping in the hall, Grendel laughs in his heart, thinking of his feast.
He seizes the nearest sleeper, crushes his "bone case" with a bite, tears him limb from limb, and swallows him. Then he creeps to the couch of Beowulf and stretches out a claw, only to find it clutched in a grip of steel. A sudden terror strikes the monster's heart. He roars, struggles, tries to jerk his arm free; but Beowulf leaps to his feet and grapples his enemy bare handed. To and fro they surge. Tables are overturned; golden benches ripped from their fastenings; the whole building quakes, and only its iron bands keep it from falling to pieces. Beowulf's companions are on their feet now, hacking vainly at the monster with swords and battle-axes, adding their shouts to the crashing of furniture and the howling "war song" of Grendel.
Outside in the town the Danes stand shivering at the uproar. Slowly the monster struggles to the door, dragging Beowulf, whose fingers crack with the strain, but who never relaxes his first grip. Suddenly a wide wound opens in the monster's side; the sinews snap; the whole arm is wrenched off at the shoulder; and Grendel escapes shrieking across the moor, and plunges into the sea to die. Beowulf first exults in his night's work; then he hangs the huge arm with its terrible claws from a cross-beam over the king's seat, as one would hang up a bear's skin after a hunt. At daylight came the Danes; and all day long, in the intervals of singing, story-telling, speech making, and gift giving, they return to wonder at the mighty "grip of Grendel" and to rejoice in Beowulf's victory.
When night falls a great feast is spread in Heorot, and the Danes sleep once more in the great hall. At midnight comes another monster, a horrible, half-human creature,  mother of Grendel, raging to avenge her offspring. She thunders at the door; the Danes leap up and grasp their weapons; but the monster enters, seizes Aeschere, who is friend and adviser of the king, and rushes away with him over the fens. Sorrow not, wise man. It is better for each That his friend he avenge than that he mourn much. Each of us shall the end await Of worldly life: let him who may gain Honor ere death. That is for a warrior, When he is dead, afterwards best.
Arise, kingdom's guardian! Let us quickly go To view the track of Grendel's kinsman. I promise it thee: he will not escape, Nor in earth's bosom, nor in mountain-wood, Nor in ocean's depths, go where he will. Then he girds himself for the new fight and follows the track of the second enemy across the fens. Here is Hrothgar's description of the place where live the monsters, "spirits of elsewhere," as he calls them:.
They inhabit The dim land that gives shelter to the wolf, The windy headlands, perilous fen paths, Where, under mountain mist, the stream flows down And floods the ground. Not far hence, but a mile, The mere stands, over which hang death-chill groves, A wood fast-rooted overshades the flood; There every night a ghastly miracle Is seen, fire in the water. No man knows, Not the most wise, the bottom of that mere. The firm-horned heath-stalker, the hart, when pressed, Wearied by hounds, and hunted from afar, Will rather die of thirst upon its bank Than bend his head to it.
It is unholy. Dark to the clouds its yeasty waves mount up When wind stirs hateful tempest, till the air Grows dreary, and the heavens pour down tears. Beowulf plunges into the horrible place, while his companions wait for him oh the shore. For a long time he sinks through the flood; then, as he reaches bottom, Grendel's mother rushes out upon him and drags him into a cave, where sea monsters swarm at him from behind and gnash his armor with their tusks.
The edge of his sword is turned with the mighty blow he deals the merewif ; but it harms not the monster. Casting the weapon aside, he grips her and tries to hurl her down, while her claws and teeth clash upon his corslet but cannot penetrate the steel rings. She throws her bulk upon him, crushes him down, draws a short sword and plunges it at him; but again his splendid byrnie saves him. He is wearied now, and oppressed.
Suddenly, as his eye sweeps the cave, he catches sight of a magic sword, made by the giants long ago, too heavy for warriors to wield. Struggling up he seizes the weapon, whirls it and brings down a crashing blow upon the monster's neck. It smashes through the ring bones; the merewif falls, and the fight is won. The cave is full of treasures; but Beowulf heeds them not, for near him lies Grendel, dead from the wound received the previous night. Again Beowulf swings the great sword and strikes off his enemy's head; and lo, as the venomous blood touches the sword blade, the steel melts like ice before the fire, and only the hilt is left in Beowulf's hand. Taking the hilt and the head, the hero enters the ocean and mounts up to the shore.
Only his own faithful band were waiting there; for the Danes, seeing the ocean bubble with fresh blood, thought it was all over with the hero and had gone home. And there they were, mourning in Heorot, when Beowulf returned with the monstrous head of Grendel carried on a spear shaft by four of his stoutest followers. In the last part of the poem there is another great fight. Beowulf is now an old man; he has reigned for fifty years, beloved by all his people. He has overcome every enemy but one, a fire dragon keeping watch over an enormous treasure hidden among the mountains. One day a wanderer stumbles upon the enchanted cave and, entering, takes a jeweled cup while the firedrake sleeps heavily.
That same night the dragon, in a frightful rage, belching forth fire and smoke, rushes down upon the nearest villages, leaving a trail of death and terror behind him. Again Beowulf goes forth to champion his people. As he approaches the dragon's cave, he has a presentiment that death lurks within:. Sat on the headland there the warrior king; Farewell he said to hearth-companions true, The gold-friend of the Geats; his mind was sad, Death-ready, restless.
And Wyrd was drawing nigh, Who now must meet and touch the aged man, To seek the treasure that his soul had saved And separate his body from his life. There is a flash of illumination, like that which comes to a dying man, in which his mind runs back over his long life and sees something of profound meaning in the elemental sorrow moving side by side with magnificent courage. Then follows the fight with the firedrake, in which Beowulf, wrapped in fire and smoke, is helped by the heroism of Wiglaf, one of his companions. This hero is not of any interest for the writer. She still wears the tattered petticoat she had when she came ashore. Her skin has become brown; she behaves like a savage when she eats and she keeps on watching the horizon for someone to rescue her.
Does the narrator interpret what he sees for the reader or does he just describe what he sees? He does not interpret what he sees, he simply describes it. What is the main feature that strikes Gulliver? Lines , 11, , , Gulliver is impressed by their organisation and efficiency. How is Gulliver referred to in the text? What does he stand for, in contrast to the Lilliputians? The Lilliputians stand for the systematic use of reason, whereas Gulliver is a body and represents materiality and animality opposed to rationality. Tick as appropriate. To satirise some aspects of his society. No, he does not. He is not considered by the projectors and he is required to be silent during his visit to the Academy.
By describing in detail the absurd objectives of each experiment, he openly expresses his disapproval. They are referred to as rebels and are associated with the vulgar and the illiterate. In lines Swift stresses the absurdities of the projects. Swift was concerned with the aberration of human reason. He thought reason was an instrument that should be used properly; too intensive a use of reason was an error of judgement and therefore unreasonable. Thus he insisted on the need to take a common-sense view of life. Their intellects have degenerated, their smell is offensive, they are aggressive, they have deformity of body and mind and they are too proud.
They stand for the civilised Europeans. Swift uses exaggeration and reversal of roles to condemn the Europeans, whose Yahoo-like nature makes dealing with them impossible. The only reasonable solution is to turn away from them. The main theme of the song has to do with friendship and how true friends have many experiences to look back on when they part, or after one of them has died. This is because when you are sad, the day always seems longer. It could also be a metaphor for the time that has passed since the singer last saw his friend. Two opposing parties, the Tories and the Whigs; the cabinet and the first Prime Minister; debate and circulation of ideas; greater social mobility of the new middle classes; poverty and petty crime; the Grand Tour of Europe; Italian Palladian style; foundation of Methodism by John and Charles Wesley; Sunday schools.
What are the powers and supernatural traits of vampires? Do they have any limitations? Suggestion: Vampires are traditionally said to possess the following powers and supernatural traits: they are potentially immortal; they survive on blood; they have the strength of twenty men; they can shape-shift into wolves and bats; they can appear as mist or elemental dust; they have no reflection in a mirror and cast no shadow; they have hypnotic power over their victims and can turn them into vampires. However, they do also have limitations: they may not enter a house unless they are invited in; they lose their supernatural powers during daylight hours; they must sleep on the soil of their native land; they can cross running water only at the slack or flood of the tide; they are repelled by raw garlic and holy symbols crucifix, Holy Wafer ; they can be destroyed by driving a stake through their heart and then cutting off their head.
The count is connoted as a hellish, devilish creature and a wild beast. On the one hand he survives on the blood of his victims, he is very strong, he can appear as mist and he has hypnotic powers, but on the other hand he is repelled by holy symbols - crucifixes and the Holy Wafer. The Gothic features are: the setting ruins and graveyard ; darkness; the mysterious woman, that is, the ghost; the atmosphere of loneliness, fear and horror caused by the supernatural presence.
Fear leads him to the determination to follow the woman and find out who she was. He was associated with purity and uncorrupted sensitiveness, he was unspoilt by civilisation, and closer to God and the sources of creation than an adult. Therefore childhood was a state to be admired and cultivated. It is the veneration of what is far away both in space and in time; the picturesque in scenery, the remote and the unfamiliar in custom and social outlook. Nature was regarded as a living force and, in a pantheistic vein, as the expression of God in the universe. It became a main source of inspiration, a stimulus to thought, a source of comfort and joy, and a means to convey moral truths. First generation attempt to theorise about poetry; the beauty of nature and ordinary things; visionary topics, the supernatural and mystery.
Second generation experienced political disillusionment; clash between the ideal and the real; individualistic and escapist attitudes; alienation of the artist from society. Education: Trained as an engraver when he was a boy; later he studied at the Royal Academy of Arts. Beliefs: A political freethinker and a radical, he supported the French Revolution; he had a strong sense of religion. Blake is exalting the qualities of energy and instinct as opposed to reason. He thought that the possibility of progress, of achieving the knowledge of what we are, lies in the tension between opposite states of mind, which exist not in linear sequence but in parallel: they are simultaneous.
Parents: Mary Wollstonecraft and William Godwin Both her parents had been heavily influenced by the ideas of the French Revolution and were part of a small radical group. Where she lived: At first she fled with the poet P. Shelley to France; then they rented a country house on the banks of Lake Geneva; later on they moved to Lerici, where one day Percy set sail in a storm and drowned; Shelley finally returned to England in Similarities Both poets described the city of London at the time of industrialisation. They both included the river Thames in their description. They both perceived the city through the senses of sight and hearing, and used personification.
Differences Text 1 Wordsworth associated big cities with noise and smoke, and loved the countryside. In the early 19th century, however, London still retained a partially rural atmosphere. So he sees it positively only when the population is not engaged in their work. Text 2 Blake describes London at night. The city is ugly, in the hands of traders and full of suffering. These are all victims of industrialisation and institutions. In these lines Wordsworth shows the daffodils as part of a universal order: they grow where they are meant to do, just as the stars in the Milky Way are fixed in their courses, because of the natural law which dictates their existence.
It is only afterwards, in recollection, that the act is understood and described. The thought came later, and the poem is the record of that thought and of the intellectual delight it offers. It is imagination that enables man to enter into and give life and significance to the world. The present tense. The shift to this tense underlines that the poet is recollecting the scene in a state of tranquillity. The words he says in lines are the first positive ones after many lines linked to sin, death and sorrow.
He seems to have finally realised the seriousness of his action - the killing of the Albatross - and to have found redemption. This is a message of peace, reconciliation and respect, a typical Christian message, which is given to all the readers by the ancient Mariner who suddenly vanishes. Unlike Wordsworth, Coleridge did not view nature as a moral guide or a source of consolation and happiness, and he did not identify nature with the divine, in that form of pantheism which Wordsworth adopted.
He believed that natural images carried abstract, supernatural meanings and he used them in The Rime. Manfred as a Byronic hero: Solitary, driven by a sense of guilt, darkly handsome, tyrannical and passionate, but also kind, intellectual and brave. Influences on the creation of the hero: The myth of Faust, Milton, the Gothic novel, and especially the archetypal figure of Cain as the man predestined to commit evil and to face damnation. The point of view is shifting, assembling different perspectives on Manfred through the other characters of the play. In stanza XIII there is the personification of the natural elements. They also reflect his mood. He deals also with small natural things like flowers. They must choose between their desire to assert their personality and the role assigned to them by social conventions.
Austen also emphasises the importance of marriage as the best chance for a woman to gain independence and social security. They are the relationship between the individual and society, the contrast between imagination and reason, and marriage. The Paris Conference has laid down the objectives but they are still to be followed and reached. This agreement is only the first step, and the pressure to reduce fossil fuel emissions must continue. By the French general Napoleon Bonaparte had defeated much of Europe and was effectively ruling France as a military dictator. Later the Duke of Wellington led British soldiers to victories in Portugal. Napoleon, weakened by his disastrous invasion of Russia, surrendered in Anonimo Accesso non effettuato registrati entra.
A population who began to burn and cut down the forests, to grow cereals and to breed cattle, pigs and sheep. They built ritual sites, large, enclosed spaces used both for ceremonies and for defence, like Stonehenge in southwest England. Roman control of Britain came to an end in AD. There was no curtain. The action was continuous, and a scene ended when all the actors left the stage and a new set of characters came on.
They took place in daylight, usually starting at 2 p. They take place both in daylight and in the evening. Actors act in bright light before spectators hidden in a darkened auditorium. There was no scenery. The stage relied on conventions using a limited number of props. For night scenes a simple candle or torch represented the night world. However, she is also an unconventional female character as she expresses her love vividly and through concrete images. He was born in London into a wealthy Puritan family in He was a committed Protestant and Humanist scholar who felt his poetic inspiration was a gift from God.
Paradise Lost , written after the restoration of the monarchy and his experience in prison. It was a struggle between tyranny, embodied by Stuart absolutism, and liberty, represented by Parliament. The king dismissed the Petition of Right of because he thought that he was king by divine right. He also used his royal prerogative to extend taxes and pay his army to fight rebellions. He raised an army of Royalists and declared war against the Parliamentarians. The Long Parliament was purged of Presbyterian and royalist sympathisers.
Cromwell took the New Model Army to Ireland for a campaign of repression which culminated in the slaughter of the citizens of Drogheda. In Cromwell divided the country into eleven military regions under major generals. The republic encouraged foreign trade and both the merchant and the war fleet grew rapidly. In Parliament had passed the Navigation Acts, giving a sort of monopoly of trade to British ships. A desert island: some rocks, some green bushes, a white beach with corpses floating in the light blue water of the surrounding sea, some floating tree trunks and branches. First-person narration. Detailed description of the setting in time and place.
The use of the journal. The theme of survival. January is a woman. It's one of the few films of such significant length minutes that when it was released on VHS, it needed two cassettes to contain the entire film, and several passes on the disc format to get it on one disc at high quality see Visual Compression below. As of , it is the 3rd highest-grossing movie of all time, both in raw numbers note passed only by Avengers: Endgame and Cameron's own Avatar and adjusted for inflation note Gone with the Wind takes the top spot while Avengers: Endgame drops to fourth. Community Showcase More. Follow TV Tropes. You need to login to do this. Get Known if you don't have an account. Except for one giant iceberg. The '90s : The present day of the film, with old Rose recounting the tale, takes place in Abuse Mistake : When Rose tries to commit suicide, Jack talks her out of it.
However, she slips and nearly falls to her death. After a struggle where Jack manages to drag Rose to safety, albeit accidentally tearing her dress and falling on top of her in the process, some crewmen investigating Rose's screams assume he's trying to rape her. Accidental Aiming Skills : Rose with the ax. Not only was her aim bad, but her eyes were closed. There's a goof in that Kate actually hits Leo's hand with the axe!
Action Girl : Rose has occasional glimpses of it when she doesn't have Jack around. Act of True Love : Jack does everything he can to save his beloved's life, culminating with his letting her float on one of the few available planks while he froze to death with most of his body in the water. Rose: I'd rather be his whore than your wife. Ruth: This is not a game. Our situation is precarious. You know the money's gone. Rose: Jack, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls. Wearing this. Now I know I'm in first-class. McCawley: Well, I won't wear one, sir. It'll just slow me down, impede my stroke. Astor: Right you are, Mr. It is miles to shore, so you wouldn't want to have anything to impede your stroke.
You're as like to have angels fly out your arse as get next to the likes of her.Andrews: From this moment on, no Essay On Indifferent In Romeo And Juliet what we do, Titanic will founder. Maeve grants her Essay On Indifferent In Romeo And Juliet and Essay On Indifferent In Romeo And Juliet refuge in her trailer. First Clown It must be 'se offendendo;' it cannot be else.