Metamorphose

It was 100 degrees Fahrenheit in December. Somehow, cicadas were buzzing and pools of water were hovering below horizon lines. In another couple of hours it would be freezing. The cicadas would shatter in mid air along with the pools of water suspended above the roads. Soon they would drop and crack into a billion pieces. The only thing that would break the silence at night would be the collapsing of the frozen ice sculptures. And, of course, the listless human figures casting mile long shadows and glistening under the moonlight as their feet shuffled against the frozen ice making distinct clinking noises.

The girl peered from behind a bush of frozen prickly pears and hid from the lethargic beings that stumbled on chunks of frozen ice and quickly ran to one of the electrical towers that were by the side of the road. A couple of the people noticed but continued on down the road and didn’t let the others know. She would have to be more careful because there was one of her and thousands of the others. The girl knew this area well and was able to find a safety hatch carved into the side of a hill that hid the backpacks with the supplies. As she opened the door, the smell of rainwater invited her inside. The lights flickered on when they sensed her movement and she grabbed the last bag hanging on one of the hooks; other people like her must have been here to help cut the wires too. She closed the hatch and ran out to one of the towers before they noticed her, and she started climbing. The view from above was hypnotizing. As soon as the girl climbed to the top she was able to see the sea of bodies moving towards the city.  As she took the electrical cutters from her backpack and set them up so they could cut the wire, she stared down at the brilliant lights of the city and the mass of bodies headed towards it. When the mechanical jaws snapped at the wire and broke it, there was a flash of light and the city disappeared. The figures stood motionless on the road and their eyes glazed over as the city lights started to fade one by one.

The girl scrambled down the tower because she didn’t have much time before they started towards the next city in their conquest for light. She tried crossing the road back to the hatch to avoid them, but one of the figures caught her ankle and dragged her into the crowd. She stumbled and fell to the ground. The moon lit her pale face and she slowly stood up, one vertebra at a time. Her feet crackled on shards of ice and she started dragging her feet towards the next town with the tide of other bodies.

Prickly Pears, Getting Colder 

Paloma Salas

Sorry, What's Your Name?

Foster’s chapter in How to Read Literature Like a Professor titled “Now, Where Have I Seen Her Before?” talks about a similar experience many teenagers experience. For example, the celebrity, let’s say Miley Cyrus, will wear the latest in fashion and others will follow suit. Foster’s point was to tell us that there isn’t just one piece of literature that every other piece of literature stemmed from, however; there is only one story. In other words, Miley wears a cool outfit unattainable to the average person, but her followers go and buy look-a-like outfits. Thus, repeating the trend, but in different ways they can afford. I know connecting literature to Miley Cyrus’ clothing probably isn’t the most appropriate analogy, but that’s the kind of connection Foster wants us to make in novels, plays, poems, etc.

In the 40s, 50s, and 60s, dystopian literature became more popular and authors started writing about societies that seem undesirable. Many of these books stemmed from the tragedy of WWII, thus following the same trend of trying to explain how the Holocaust could have happened. For example, Fahrenheit 451 written by Ray Bradbury and 1984 written by George Orwell both represent books that act as catalysts for this genre. It’s also surprising that both main characters lead useless lives until a girl appears in the plot that changes their lives and the storyline. The outcomes of each book are different and pave the way for different interpretations, even intertextuality, for future works.

            If you take two polar opposite movies and put them side by side they ultimately have the same exact plot. For example, Mean Girls and The Social Network. Two seemingly different movies, however, the plot essentially goes like this: A loner rises to the top of the social hierarchy making enemies along the way. This is simplified but if you were to explain them in one sentence that is the fundamental plot. Same with The Road and Taken, Harry Potter and Star Wars, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close and Cast Away, etc. Further proof  that subconsciously people take ideas from past readings and store them away for use in the future.

Authors, screenwriters, poets, etc. don’t mean to do this. I believe that the story becomes ingrained into us at the very beginning, starting with story books for when we were little.  After all, story telling is a cultural phenomenon that has been passed down since archaic ages. It would be impossible to not re-create the stories that people have been telling since our society could paint onto the walls of caves. This conversation between books is endless and will continue to be endless until the next Stephanie Meyers can think of something just as brilliant as vampires (kidding) that will take hold of our society. Although I am making fun of the vampire era that is common amongst pre-teens, it still shaped our literature (and will continue to, unfortunately) until someone else can start a different trend that grabs our world by storm.

She doesn't even go here...

Piggy Eaters and Ketchup Stains

Foster states in the chapter of HTRLLAP called “Nice to Eat with You: Acts of Communion”, that meals are a sacred act of communion when purposely put into literature. They are an intimate act that not only connects the characters in the book together, but also gives the reader a sense of connection with the characters. I believe that when overtly included in literature, it is meant for us to get a glimpse of the most private of actions between people. However, Foster also states that communion doesn’t always have to be holy. In fact, when we are literally “breaking the bread” at dinner, most of the time we are messy eaters and things don’t always go as planned.

For example, in the Lord of the Flies written by William Golding, the feast between the two tribes starts out as a peace offering but has an alternate motive (at least for Piggy and Ralph) and ends in the violent murder of Simon. Although the murder wasn’t an anticipated part of the feast, this is just one example of a meal gone awry. Not only does it display the lack of loyalty that Foster mentions, but it also symbolizes the last piece of civilization being thrown away on the island. In fact, as the kids chase around Simon, the sacrifice, they get caught up in the animalistic act of hunting their “meat”. Only further proving, that in fact, eating is messy and most often times a complicated process.

A more recent example of a meal gone wrong is proven in Orange is the New Black. When Piper accidentally insults the head Cook during her first meal in jail, she is sentenced to a period of starving time and given a “warning” with a bloody tampon. Not only does this consequential meal create a turning point for Piper’s initiation into jail, but it also proves that when multiple people are sharing a meal together, things go wrong. Like Foster points out, when two people are sharing a meal and a third comes up unwanted, we clearly know how they feel about the third person when they try to leave the table. However, Piper’s case is more unfortunate because she had no prior knowledge of Red’s title. This meal takes an even more unfortunate twist after Red politely takes back the generous gift of yogurt, the only edible thing in the kitchen.

Perhaps one of the most famous short stories written by Edgar Allen Poe, The Masque of the Red Death is also a significant example further proving that indulgent feasts don’t always go as planned. This is only amplified when an unwanted visitor crashes the party, The clock strikes midnight, and a ghostly figure appears in the prince Prospero’s mansion further ruining his plans of isolating and ignoring the plague. His obliviousness to the victim of the plague is matched with death and soon the castle falls to darkness and decay. This proves that not only does an unwanted visitor ruin dinner plans but more often than not, we always end up with a ketchup stain on our shirts.

-Haley Rose Hill