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First I should introduce you to the term "dialectic journals" Students in all three classes (8th grade is excluded) are bemoaning the fact that I make them do this tedious chore. What is a dialectic journal you ask? It is notebook where students write down quotes from the book that they find significant - and then explain to me why they chose that particular text. Quotes can be selected for diction (eloquent word choice - which will help students become better writers themselves) - character development - theme development - possible foreshadowing (and what they predict will happen) - personal connections they see in the story - connections to other books and/or movies that they recognize - well, you get the idea. What students rarely realize is that this tedious chore is actually making them responsible for their own learning. Hopefully they will end the unit more confident in picking up any work of literature to discover meaning for themselves.
"Very well. We now come to a point. Your mother insists upon your accepting it (the proposal). Is not it so, Mrs. Bennet?""Yes, or I will never see her again.""An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. - Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again if you do. (page 206 )"
"...But I don't think it is social to get a bunch of people together and then not let them talk, do you? An hour of TV class, an hour of basketball or baseball or running, another hour of transcription history or painting pictures, and more sports, but do you know, we never ask questions or at least most don't; they just run the answers at you, bing, bing, bing, and us sitting there for four more hours of film teacher. That's not social to me at all. ..... They run us so ragged by the end of the day we can't do anything but go to bed or head for a Fun Park to bully people around, break windowpanes in the Window Smasher place or wreck cards in the Car Wrecker place with the big steel ball. ....."I'm afraid of children my own age. They kill each other. Did it always use to be that way? My uncle says no. Six of my friends have been shot in the last year alone. Ten of them have died in car wrecks...." (pages 29-30)
You have her father's love, Demetrius.Let me have Hermia's. Do you marry him (I i 95-96)
The Bagginses had lived in the neighborhood of The Hill for time out of mind, and people considered them very respectable, not only because most of them were rich, but also because they never had any adventures or did anything unexpected: you could tell what a Baggins would say on any question without the bother of asking him. (page 4)
They are flying toward the oldest part of London, the city proper, the area inside London Wall, where spooky little streets wind around like snakes slithering into stone burrows. It is filled with banks these days, but it's where the Romans once lived, where the Vikings and Saxon lords ruled, where witches told gruesome tales, and wretched medieval men and women were whipped and tortured in public. (page 31)This is a great book so far and one that I think I will suggest my 7th grade students read when we complete our mystery unit in the Spring.
Where do you keep any books borrowed from friends or the library? Do they live with your own collection, or do you keep them separate? Do you monitor them in any way?
Perhaps the most important thing to say about my books," remarked Byatt, "is that they try to be about the life of the mind as well as of society and the relations between people. I admire - am excited by - intellectual curiosity of any kind (scientific, linguistic, psychological) and also by literature as a complicated, huge, interrelating pattern. I also like recording small observed facts and feelings. I see writing and thinking as a passionate activity, like any other." (pages ix - x)
"The ur-Gestalt of Possession was a grey cloudy web, ghostly and spidery, to do with the ghostliness and connectedness of the original idea....I imagined my text as a web of scholarly quotations and parodies through which the poems and writings of the dead should loom at the reader, to be surmised and guessed at." (page xii)"....there is a Gothic plot, I thought, of violence and skulduggery. The Gestalt got more lurid, purple, black, vermilion, with flying white forms." (page xii - xiii)"....I had been thinking a lot about the pleasure principle in art. Art does not exist for politics, or for instruction - it exists primarily for pleasure, or it is nothing. It can do the other things if it gives pleasure, as Coleridge knew, and said. And the pleasure of fiction is narrative discovery, as it was easy to say about television serials and detective stories, but not, in those days, about serial novels." (page xiii)"....The Gestalt in my mind changed colour and form and became delicious - all green and gold, the colours of Tennyson illustrations in my mind as a child, of dream landscapes, of childhood imaginings of a world brighter and more jewel-like than this one." (page xiv)
The one thing that does not abide by majority's rule is a person's conscience (page 105)
Paul Collins and his family abandoned the hills of San Francisco to move to the Welsh countryside-to move, in fact, to the village of Hay-on-Wye, the "Town of Books" that boasts fifteen hundred inhabitants-and forty bookstores. Taking readers into a secluded sanctuary for book lovers, and guiding us through the creation of the author's own first book, Sixpence Housebecomes a heartfelt and often hilarious meditation on what books mean to us.
We have one last hope for a home in Way: Sixpence House.We have shied away from the Sixpence before. It is a desanctified pub, huge and rambling and hundreds of years old, thumped down squarely into the middle to town. Everyone in town, it seems, knows about the Sixpence House. Here is what they know:Corollary to this:
- It is a dump.
- Everyone who buys it tries to sell it again, except that
- They can't sell it.
- It has a cellar full of water, and, oh, yes,
- It is a dump. (page 148)
Hay-on-Wye, you see, is The Town of Books. This is because it has fifteen hundred inhabitants, five churches, four grocers, two newsagents, one post office.....and forty bookstores. Antiquarian bookstores, no less. And they are in antiquarian buildings: there are scarcely any buildings in Hay proper that are under a hundred years old; not many, even, that are under two hundred years old. There are easily several million books secreted away in these stores and in outlying barns around the town; thousands of books for every man, woman, child, and sheepdog - first editions of Wodehouse, 1920s books in Swahili, 1970s books on macrame, pirated Amsterdam editions of Benjamin Franklin's treatise on electricity, and maybe even a few unpulped copies of John Major's autobiography. (pages 22-23)
Not every book at Booth's is a lost treasure. You have to sift through a lot of rubble first. (page 101)
One could fairly say that Clare and Diana, though not rooted in the town's past, are the faces of its future. For a town that once subsisted on butter and wool - selling it, not eating it - Hay has seen a great many changes in its economy and its populace. With the exception of the bookseller Derek Addyman, almost nobody in the town's book trade is actually from Hay. It is a town composed of refugees from London, Edinburgh, Liverpool, the states, anyplace but the Welsh countryside. The town bookbinder came from Illinois, the copy shop owner from California, and even Diana herself - to my shock, for I cannot think of anyone more English than Diana - was born in Chicago. Hay is a town of travelers who stopped; it is where urbanites come to hide from their home cities and from the tentacles of big-city traders and publishers. (page 103)