Rebecca Holman
Major Poet Essay
Advanced Composition
24 January 2008
Biography
His full name is Seamus Justin Heaney, and he was born April 13, 1939. He began his teaching career at St. Joseph's College in Belfast and then took up take writing up after he met Derek Mahon and Michael Longly, under the guidance of Philip Hobsbaum.
According to experts, Heaney is " inspired by artists who created poetry from local and native backgrounds such as: Ted Hughes, Patrick Kavanagh, and Robert Frost." (“Heaney” Gale par. 3). In 1965 he married Marie Devlin, and in 1966 he published his first book of poetry; Death of a Naturalist. He went on to publish many other works, but an important one that catches the people's eye is his new translation of Beowulf, which "beat Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban” by one vote in the 1999 Whitbread Book of the Year Award (“Heaney” Gale par.5). Consequently in March of 2000, Beowulf was a number one top seller in England.
Seamus Heaney’s central preoccupation is with words and how they tie together, in this quote by who, the author discusses how, "meaning and sound are [an] intimately related result in concentrated, sensually evocative poems which explores nature, love, and relationships between contemporary issues or historical patterns like legends and myths. Heaney uses assonant phrasing, richly descriptive adjectives, with witty metaphors to set off each of his unique poems” (“Heaney” Gale p 1-2).
He was a Professor of Poetry at Oxford from 1989 to 1994 and spends part of each year teaching at Harvard as the professor of Rhetoric and Oratory.
Review of Critical Essay
Meeting the Myth: Station Island
By: Barbara Hardy
In the article “Meeting the Myth: Station Island” by Barbara Hardy, each one stanza starts with three sections in the essay by explaining each poem: number one, self contained lyrics within the poem; number two, model derived from St. Patrick’s Purgatory; and number three, uses of medieval Sweeney from his other works. Hardy claims that “the most personal poems are often the most mythical” (1). This explains Heaney’s writing of art, love, and war in his poems.
She goes on to speak of the series of poems and his ironic religious sense, childhood, teenage years, and politics in his ending poem. The most complex part of the whole poem is how he writes a simple outline for the smaller poems instead of narrating the story like a story teller, thus creating a mythical dream for the readers.
Through the whole poem, nature is always in the backround of the stanzas, adding description and a sense of being at home throughout each scene. Sweaney adds a major contribution to the series of poems, acting as the character that Heaney always wanted to be in text.
Hardy also seems to enjoy writing out the meanings of the poems with no real criticism of Heaney’s work in Station Island.
Analysis of One Poem
The Fragement
Seamus Heaney’s title “The Fragment,” is a suitable name for the intriguing lines of poetry bound within. The title meaning a part of a story, one leaves not knowing how the story ends or when it begins, leaving the reader hanging.
He leaves a very interesting mark on the poetry by making the first letter of every sentence capitalized, which he seems to do in almost every poem. Breaking them up into three or four sentences and then spacing down at least two lines in order to start again, which in this poem he does not follow consistently. For example, Heaney writes:
“Light came from the east,” he sang,
“Bright guarantee of God, and the waves went quiet.
I could see headlands and buffeted cliffs.
Often, for marked courage, fate spares the man
It has not marked already.”(1-5)
He speaks about the sailors being lucky where the sea is calm and that “the waves went quiet” (2), thus the weather is good for sailing. The speaker of the poem sees everything and is happy with what the weather foretells. Then he speaks about fate and how they are all “marked” while at sea. He explains that, “Fate spares the man/It has not marked already” (5-6). Heaney then makes a drastic turn in the next set by saying, “that he had gone to bits/his first and last lines/Neither here nor there” (6-7).
He talks like a man who had died with out a beginning or an end and then adds, “Since when?” He askes, “Are the first line and last line of any poem/ Where the poem begins and ends” (10-12)?
Heaney does not seem to use poetic techniques in this particular poem, except for repetition. Though it remains mysterious, he concentrates on the idea that in a fragmented reality, there is no real beginning or end for anyone or anything. In the last two lines Heaney writes, “Are the first line and last line of any poem/where the poem begins and ends?”(13-14). this is a question that no one can fathom, yet inspires one to still ponder.
Overview of three Poems
Bodies and Souls
“In the Afterlife” is the most exciting part of the series of poems that Heaney writes. He begins with the lines, “It will be like following Jim Logue, the caretaker,/ As he goes to sweet our hair off that classroom floor/Where the school barber set up once a fortnight” (1-3).
A caretaker starts his rounds like a janitor in a school, cleaning up after the long day of study amongst students. Heaney then breaks into describing how the surroundings look like “silent landings,/Of the refectory with its solid, crest-marked delph,/The ground-floor corridor, the laundry pile”(5-7). Heaney finishes by setting up a most fantastic ending, “And boots tagged for the cobbler. Was that your name/On a label? Were you a body or a soul?”(8-9)
Wedding Day
In this poem, Heaney describes a scene of someone afraid of being married who is indecisive on the idea of being married. To the speaker, marriage at the moment does not sound good. The person then goes on to find a taxi and leaves as quickly as he can. He, then gets on an airplane, only to go back eventually to the one person whom he left behind.
Bogland
The bogs are an awful place to be, but the perfect place to bury a body. The description of the land of bogs and how they hold items and people in perfect embalming until they are dug up by an unsuspecting digger is fascinating. He then goes on to speak even though the bogs are good for preserving, they are also limitless or bottomless.
Evaluation of Poet
He is an extraordinary writer who can put twists and turns into any poem to make them sound exciting or confusing until you read it twice and understand. By understanding that each and every word that he uses counts. Heaney creates a masterpiece over in a short amount of time and lets the rest of the world decide for themselves.
Seamus Heaney and expressing himself through nature, love, myth, and politics that makes most of his work exciting to read. From old poetry that he had just started writing to the newer books of poetry he has written, he still stays unique and most-loved by many readers of poetry.
List of Links Used
Gale Cenage. “p. 1”
2008. 3 Febuary 2008
http://gale.cengage.com/
Hardy, Barbara. “Meeting the Myth: Station Island.”
Pennsylvania: Dufour, 1994.
Heaney, Seamus. “The Fragement.” “Bodies and Souls.” Electric Light
New York: Union Square West, 2001
Heaney, Seamus. “Wedding Day.” “Bog Land.” Opened Ground.
New York: Union Square West, 1998
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
My Interpretation of Seamus Heaney's "Bog Queen"
"Bog Queen"
She awaits in her eternal sleep for now and forever beneath the peat and moss, waiting to be unearthed by the unsuspecting traveler or peat cutter. Creepy crawlers crawl all over her while other water animals make her body useful by putting their spawn around and in her. Animals and other things come and chew and eat her. While she seems calm, even peaceful towards the world who bound her in the ground.
Her body waits through the winter than she is robbed of all she had and then buried within the the bogs once again. Still she waits until some one unearths her sickish body from her would be eternal tomb. There she sits on the bank of the bog with her body torn and disheveled, for the people to figure out her story.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
My Interpretation of Seamus Heaney's Antaeus
Antaeus
Seamus Heaney starts this poem by playing as Antaeus who has much strength and is feared by many people who seek to gain immortal fame. Talking to those who would or could overthrow him, even though he would just be reborn and start all over again until the next hero comes along to fight him. He seems to be depressed for living for one and only one thing. He seems to be a bit arrogant in his profession. Making sure that nobody can gain some kind of princely reputation till they go through him.
He lies in wait until the next person comes along. Speaking to those who wish to gain splendour. Saying that he is their enemy and that they will have to defeat him first. He seems to rest in nature until the time comes when he is to be lifted and to fight, then to return back into the earth until his services be needed again on the next stranger.
The speaker seems to be all powerful and a little wary of his situation. Preying on the unsuspecting for a match in the ring. (I'm thinking of wrestling) Antaeus seems to have no worries and only lives for the day.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Monday, December 3, 2007
Toothpaste Essay
Rebecca Holman
Persuasive Essay-Toothpaste
Advanced Composition
14 November 2007
Toothpaste
By: Rebecca Holman
Toothpaste tubes were designed to be squeezed from the bottom. When you squeeze a toothpaste tube from the middle, toothpaste goes everywhere in the tube, leaving a mess that makes a person squeeze from the bottom sooner or later because there is not any left in the top half, instead of starting at the bottom of the tube like most of the population does.
Some think it’s easier to clutch the toothpaste from the middle or top of the tube, but many are not getting the full money’s worth of the toothpaste that the consumer just had to buy. Just because it may look easier does not mean that it is beneficial depending on the budget that a consumer has to work with. Thinking about how much a consumer spends on food, clothing, and other miscellaneous items, and then adding to the account of buying more toothpaste that the customer had bought not to long ago is shocking. This could lead to a large expenditure after awhile depending on how much your favorite toothpaste cost.
Buying toothpaste all of the time because you squeezed from the top or middle, seems like such a waste of funds, when the money could have been used on different necessities for daily life. This maintains the full benefits of the toothpaste and provides minimum spending on wasted toothpaste. Using all the toothpaste a consumer buys, expensive or inexpensive, should last anyone awhile instead of useless spending. Examples like; the buyer threw away the tube of toothpaste because the paste stopped coming from the top half of the tube, when there is still paste at the bottom.
Being easier to squeeze from the bottom to the top, helps out many of the population, who have a hard time and don’t like to waste toothpaste or are elderly and have a hard time squeezing the tube as it is and just want to brush their teeth.
A small child gets toothpaste all over because the young person does not know how to handle the tube right yet and is taught to squeeze from the bottom instead of the middle so the toothpaste can go all over the place because the kid does not have a good enough grip on the tube yet. Squeezing from the bottom would give the child a better grip and be able to hold his or her toothbrush while putting the toothpaste on the brush.
Toothpaste also comes out of the tube easier when squeezed from the bottom with a small satisfaction when you brush your teeth and know that you did not have any problems, especially if the consumer is not a morning person and can have a bad day if the smallest thing goes wrong in their morning routine.
Everyone take the stand and squeeze the toothpaste tubes around the world from the bottom for the sake of the elderly and the children who have not learned yet quite how to squeeze the toothpaste out right without making a mess. This also ensures the buyers of the product to quite paying all the time when they do not have to.
Persuasive Essay-Toothpaste
Advanced Composition
14 November 2007
Toothpaste
By: Rebecca Holman
Toothpaste tubes were designed to be squeezed from the bottom. When you squeeze a toothpaste tube from the middle, toothpaste goes everywhere in the tube, leaving a mess that makes a person squeeze from the bottom sooner or later because there is not any left in the top half, instead of starting at the bottom of the tube like most of the population does.
Some think it’s easier to clutch the toothpaste from the middle or top of the tube, but many are not getting the full money’s worth of the toothpaste that the consumer just had to buy. Just because it may look easier does not mean that it is beneficial depending on the budget that a consumer has to work with. Thinking about how much a consumer spends on food, clothing, and other miscellaneous items, and then adding to the account of buying more toothpaste that the customer had bought not to long ago is shocking. This could lead to a large expenditure after awhile depending on how much your favorite toothpaste cost.
Buying toothpaste all of the time because you squeezed from the top or middle, seems like such a waste of funds, when the money could have been used on different necessities for daily life. This maintains the full benefits of the toothpaste and provides minimum spending on wasted toothpaste. Using all the toothpaste a consumer buys, expensive or inexpensive, should last anyone awhile instead of useless spending. Examples like; the buyer threw away the tube of toothpaste because the paste stopped coming from the top half of the tube, when there is still paste at the bottom.
Being easier to squeeze from the bottom to the top, helps out many of the population, who have a hard time and don’t like to waste toothpaste or are elderly and have a hard time squeezing the tube as it is and just want to brush their teeth.
A small child gets toothpaste all over because the young person does not know how to handle the tube right yet and is taught to squeeze from the bottom instead of the middle so the toothpaste can go all over the place because the kid does not have a good enough grip on the tube yet. Squeezing from the bottom would give the child a better grip and be able to hold his or her toothbrush while putting the toothpaste on the brush.
Toothpaste also comes out of the tube easier when squeezed from the bottom with a small satisfaction when you brush your teeth and know that you did not have any problems, especially if the consumer is not a morning person and can have a bad day if the smallest thing goes wrong in their morning routine.
Everyone take the stand and squeeze the toothpaste tubes around the world from the bottom for the sake of the elderly and the children who have not learned yet quite how to squeeze the toothpaste out right without making a mess. This also ensures the buyers of the product to quite paying all the time when they do not have to.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Tradgedies and Mishaps
Rebecca Holman
Short Story
Advanced Composition
7 November 2007
Tragedies and Mishaps
By: Rebecca Holman
A loud shout with the shattering of something made of glass resounded from some place in the house waking Damion from his drunken slumber. He pulled himself out of bed with a start, pulled on a tunic, and made for the entrance hall to see what the racket was about. His mother stopped him with soft words, “My son it is alright, the cook just dropped a punch bowl from the cupboard.”
He looked at his mother for a moment. “Oh, well have one of the maids bring me a glass of wine please, and I’ll come dine with you.” He held his head trying to make the dizziness leave by sheer will and hopefully look as if he had not been drinking all night.
“Yes, do that and wash up while you are at it. Your father has requested that you have lunch with us, and I would be grateful if you stay away from the wine until you leave this house.”
Damion smiled, hoping that she wouldn’t see the pain behind his eyes from the pounding in his skull. “Yes mother.” He walked back to his rooms.
After Damion's bath with colognes and different herbs to take the smell of wine off of his skin he went into the peristyle and sat on a beautiful couch opposite of his father and looked at the murals depicting a famous scene of Poseidon, the sea god, creating the horse from nothing. Damion took a grape and popped it in his mouth. “Good morning father.”
Rashid looked up from the accounting books in his lap. “I see that you’ve been getting useless baubles for the people of Athens when they need food, clothing, and building materials for the poor!” he said with a bitter calmness that grated on Damion’s already shot nerves.
“I make a fair pay, and Athens is happy with the cargo that I bring them,” he replied back with the same manner of bitter calmness, knowing that a fight was already underway.
“You will do as you are told!” Rashid yelled at his son with black furry in his eyes. The people of Athens needed food and not useless luxuries for the wealthy.
“I will bring in what I want, since they are my ships!” Damion shot back at his father with the same, black, look in his eyes. Since his father didn’t understand that what the people wanted, they would get.
Shala sat by quietly on her couch next to her husband listening to the conversation between them, wanting to cry out for them to stop, but knowing it would do her no good. Their fighting had gone on since Damion had made his first talent from the ships he had borrowed from his father, the same ones he now owned by right. She got up slowly and bowed to her husband, “I am going to go and make my offering to the gods. Please don’t do anything rash.” She stared at her son in such a way that he looked down at his hands.
“Yes, mother, I need to meet with some people before the ship comes in tomorrow. Excuse me, Father.” He stood up and watched his mother leave the room and then made his way to the stable where his horse waited. As Damion walked out to the stables and heard the neigh of Akema, an Arabian horse from a trade with one of his drinking friends, coming from the corrals. He deviated from his path to the stable and made his way to the corrals to see why she was in there.
“Stable man, why have you put my horse in the corrals?” he yelled to the gentleman watching Akema running circles and tossing her silken brushed, midnight black, mane.
“She needed to run, sir, and I did not know if you would be coming out today to ride her.”
Damion looked the man over and returned his gaze to his horse. She continued to run a little more and then made her way to him as though she knew he was coming for her. Akema nuzzled his face, and he gave her some clover that he had gathered on the way to the stables.
“Get my bridle and saddle. I need to go and see a friend. I think she would enjoy a change of scenery,” he commanded the young man still staring at the horse with wonder.
“Yes sir,” and the stable boy jumped off of the wooden gates and ran into the stables to retrieve the items that his master had commanded of him. He brought out the saddle and Damion took it from him so the boy could go back for the bridle. Damion saddled Akema and jumped onto her back. “When I come back, be sure that her stall is cleaned and some oats are awaiting for her also a brush so I may brush her down.” The boy nodded his understanding and left to work immediately. Damion smiled after him and clicked his tongue to make Akema trot down the road towards Trave’s home.
Coming up to Trave's main gate Damion saw him running out to greet him, “Ah my friend! Come to see me so soon? I was hoping you would grace me with your presence, since I’m to have a grand feast tonight to honor Athena.” The man had his arms wide open with a glass of wine in his hand to show greetings in a warm manner towards Damion. Many rings covered the man’s fingers which made them look like small sausages. Damion looked the man up and down. Trave's expensive tunic looked ragged because he had slept in it the night before, and was a little tight around his stomach because it was beginning to bulge from too many delicate foods and too much wine. His face showed the same characteristics of pudgy cheeks that use to look handsome, but now looked pig-like from his expensive living style. Damion didn’t go into the man’s arms to receive his warm welcome, but stood there looking at him with disgust.
“I have come because I need to speak to you about business, not because of your party."
Damion scowled at him and walked into the court yard letting the stable boy take his horse. He gave her a pat and watched her go until the boy turned a corner. Damion returned his gaze to Trave. He made a smooth gesture up to the house. “May I come in so we can speak together?” he asked with icy politeness.
“Yes, of course you may come in. I’ll just call for some food and wine, but please make yourself comfortable.” Trave trembled a little as he walked into the peristyle and called his man servant to tell the cook to prepare a tray with meats and some wine for two. The wine came first and then the tray of delicacies that Trave liked so much. Trave picked one up, admired it with his beady, pig eyes, “Well, what would you like to know?” Trave asked and quickly started talking, then babbling on how he had been cheated out of his money because of the gambling he had been doing. Damion soon put up his hand to still Trave's senseless chatter about how nobody cared about his financials.
“I have come because I have a shipment coming in tomorrow, and I need to know if your going to pay me what you told me you would for some silk and other items we have spoken of.” Damion coolly sipped his wine and watched Trave’s outward reaction to his comment.
“I would gladly pay you, but right now I’m a little strained for money as I've told you. I owe other people some money and was wondering if you could help me get out of debt. When I have the money I owe you, I will repay you.” Trave gulped the rest of his wine and looked at Damion with sad, frightened, eyes of what the he would say.
“I will not give you a cent! How dare you intrude on my courtesy with a plea for money when I have given you money aplenty in the past and all you do is gamble it away!” Damion's eyes showed fire from his anger and burned straight into Trave’s eyes. “I’m leaving, now!” He got up and made his way to the door where the man servant bowed to him and opened the door. His horse was brought to him, and Damion got into the saddle with one fluid movement and galloped off. Back at his parent’s house, he told the servant to serve some wine and wash his road-dusted feet. The girl came and did as he commanded. While she washed his feet and laced up his shoes, he drank steadily and felt himself calm down with each gulp.
He started to reflect on what he had done at Trave’s and knew that he had been unwise by his outburst of anger. Trave had the ear of many people in power close to Pericles, the ruler of the land, and could have almost anyone killed just by blackmailing them. The wealthy usually tried to pay him off just so he would keep quiet about the business that went on in court or elsewhere that the common people should not know about. Affairs that developed at certain parties that he attended; a time in court when somebody who was innocent was sentenced going to die; any kind of juicy gossip that could get men in trouble with wives or the democracy.
These thoughts went through Damion’s mind for a time, and he knew by tomorrow he might be thrown into a dungeon or hanged for all the people to see. He took another drink of his wine, and ways of escaping this death came to him. He knew that if he stayed in Athens, he could very well be in a noose by tomorrow morning and have no more neck before the sun hit its highest point in the sky. His ship wasn’t going to be coming in until tomorrow morning, not leaving for about week as it gathered up gold and other rich fabrics, certain animals for slaughter, and slaves to take over seas for the markets. He kept pondering these facts until he remembered that a ship was leaving tonight after dark!
He got up and stumbled to his room. Finding a piece of paper and a pot of ink, he wrote to the captain of the ship and informed him that he would be joining their exploration and that no one needed to know that he would be going. Damion sent for the messenger boy, who took it and went down to the docks to deliver his master’s message. Damion packed a few belongings and wrote another message to his parents telling them that he would be leaving and would like to send for them when everything calmed like the sea after a storm and he thought it would be safe. He donned his cloak and made a hasty pace down the road towards the docks.
“Left, right... left, right, left! Forward men we must catch the traitor before he thinks of some way of escape!” the captain of the guard yelled to his men with spear in hand, ready to kill whom ever got in his way. Damion froze for a moment listening to the man encourage his men to continue marching towards their destination. He stood his ground for a moment longer, and knew that his family would suffer if he wasn’t found or seen by the soldiers. He stole to the side of the cobbled road and waited for the soldiers to pass. The last row went by and he walked to the middle of the street. I must be a fool for doing this!
“Hello, captain of the guard, whom are you looking for at this late hour?” Damion yelled in the direction of the soldiers, who all stopped in unison and turned around to look at the stranger who dared to stop and ask them questions. The captain of the guard trotted through the ranks to the new front of the line to see the stranger.
"That is not any of your business. How dare you ask questions of us." The captain of the guard took out his short sword ready to hack the stranger down because of his imprudence. Damion looked at him for a moment and recognized it was Alcander, a great friend in Damion's time of need, specially when he drank to much and needed a way to get home.
"I am just wondering who it is you seek so late at night because I saw someone run down this street and make a quick turn into an alley. He looked as if the dogs of Hades were after him." Damion kept his face hooded and pointed to the alley opposite him.
"Why would you tell us this peasant?" The captain of the guard came up and grabbed him by his cloak.
"I thought... I thought maybe I could get a small amount of money," Damion stammered, trying to sound frightened and hungry at the same time. The captain of the guard let him go and yelled at the rest of the soldiers. "Split up! Part of you go down that alley, part of you go up to the home. The rest of you will explore the opposite alley," he bellowed to the soldiers. They broke up into equal sections and marched off in unison towards their destinations with a clacking sound from their hobnailed sandals.
Damion looked at the man from under his hood and sized him up. He knew there was going to be a fight, and he didn't want to be the loser of the match. He just needed the captain to know he was the one he sought and his family wouldn't get hurt. The captain turned back toward to Damion. "Well, there you go, I suppose you'll be wanting your money, you filthy beggar?"
Damion stood there a moment and waited, getting as much breath as he could and unsheathed his small dagger without Alcander knowing that he had done so. "No I do not think I will need the money. I have plenty of my own, you see. I just needed to get you alone." Damion took his his dagger from under the cloak, and the captain took a step back.
"What is the meaning of this?" The captain's short sword was at the ready as he got into the familiar stance of a seasoned warrior who was ready for a fight to the death.
Damion lowered the hood so it pooled between his shoulder blades against his back and took the stance of a novice fighter. The captain stared at Damion for a moment and then cried, "it's you! Damion come in quietly and we can get this straightened out. You know Trave, he always gets angry with small things and tries to kill off the people or at least get them jailed for a time until his anger is appeased. I promise you that you won't face the noose or any public humiliation if you just come quietly." The captain spoke in earnest, hoping that the youth would listen to his words and change his mind about dying.
"I know Trave also, and I think he'll try to pull every string he has to make sure I die. I'm just making sure that my family won't suffer for my insolence and die in my place. But now you see me, and there will be no need for such a thing to happen."
The warrior looked at him with the a affection, a father might have for a son who finally showed his value and knew that he could not sway him from his current path. He lifted his sword, saluted Damion, and readied himself for the fight. Damion looked at the captain with an admiring gaze and took the first plunge with his dagger. The battle did not last long. Alcander soon fell to the ground with the dagger protruding from the his chest. Damion looked down at Alcander and saluted the captain. "Even in death may you be triumphant."
Noise from the soldiers coming back to report to their leader started to echo everywhere around him. Damion looked down one last time at the dead soldier and began to walk away from the grisley scene.
Damion ran the rest of the way to the docks towards the ships. The men were close behind him and seemed never to slow, "I am Damion son of Rashid and Shala here to sail on this ship. Let loose the lines for I'm in pursuit! The sailors worked quickly and accurately as Damion ran on the plank that led onto the ship, which started to take off slowly from the calm bay.
Soldiers ran onto the docks and some jumped into the water after the boat, hoping that they could make their way on and were never seen again, the rest of the soldiers yelled and cursed after the ship. Damion looked out at screaming soldiers and sat down heavily on the deck, breathing with his lungs on fire from running so hard. He looked at his hands and saw blood stained them a horrible rusted color with flecks of red from the blood that hadn't yet dried.
Later on that year his parents were hung for every Greek to see the shame that the family had brought upon itself for their only son to run away for a crime that he had committed. Damion heard about all of this from a traveler that had seen the deed carried out by the executor's own hand.
"Why do you ask these things of me stranger? Were you not there?" The weather beaten face looked at the cloaked figure for some sign of acknowledgement.
"No, I have been on this ship for a long time and have had no news of Athens for we have been traveling to different areas and resting when cargo is put on board." Damion said in a low voice, hidden underneath his cloak, waiting for some question that he could not answer because it might give away his identity. The traveler just looked at him and then looked back out at the beautiful blue of the sky in contrast to the sea.
"I am sorry for what has happened to your parents Damion, and I am ever sorry for the cruel task that I have to carry out too. Hades is waiting for you and the gods do not like to wait when someone is suppose to die and somehow escapes!"
Damion's eyes widened with fear, and threw his hood back, "how do you know who I am?"
The traveller laughed at him, "why do you not know who I am? I am Hermes, the messenger god of all mighty Zeus, caretaker of Apollo's sacred cows, and escort of the dead to the river Styx who await Charon to ferry them to Erebus and into Hades."
Damion stared at the god in amazement, "but my friend, it is now time for you to leave this world, for you were suppose to die, and the gods do not like to be cheated out of what is theirs to take. So I am here to escort you down to the River Styx, after I have killed you." The god raised his shepherd's staff for the killing blow.
"wait, please wait oh merciful Hermes! Have mercy on me for I still wish to live on this earth." Damion bowed his head and knew that the fates would have their way no matter how it happened and that his parents sadly had died in vain for his foolishness, but he wanted so desperately to avenge their deaths because of his ignorance of the gods' plans. I must be crazy as into try and trick a mighty god. Maybe it would be a good death to die by the hand of god instead of a mere mortal.
"I will die by your hand all mighty Hermes, but please let my family be in the Ephesian Fields, for it was my insolence that led to there shameful death. I wish to bare the weight of both of their sufferings into the being of eternity, since it was my fault that my parents were hanged in the first place."
Hermes looked at the youth wondering if he was trying to trick him or if he was being truthful in every sentence he uttered, "I will make your wishes known to Lord Hades, for it is your fault that you turned coward and ran to save your own neck. Though I admire it, I do not approve of you abandoning your family. This will all be so and now you must die." Hermes raised his staff over his head and came down as hard as he could over the youths head, who fell to the floor of the deck with blood making a small pool around him from the gash in his skull from Hermes mighty staff.
Short Story
Advanced Composition
7 November 2007
Tragedies and Mishaps
By: Rebecca Holman
A loud shout with the shattering of something made of glass resounded from some place in the house waking Damion from his drunken slumber. He pulled himself out of bed with a start, pulled on a tunic, and made for the entrance hall to see what the racket was about. His mother stopped him with soft words, “My son it is alright, the cook just dropped a punch bowl from the cupboard.”
He looked at his mother for a moment. “Oh, well have one of the maids bring me a glass of wine please, and I’ll come dine with you.” He held his head trying to make the dizziness leave by sheer will and hopefully look as if he had not been drinking all night.
“Yes, do that and wash up while you are at it. Your father has requested that you have lunch with us, and I would be grateful if you stay away from the wine until you leave this house.”
Damion smiled, hoping that she wouldn’t see the pain behind his eyes from the pounding in his skull. “Yes mother.” He walked back to his rooms.
After Damion's bath with colognes and different herbs to take the smell of wine off of his skin he went into the peristyle and sat on a beautiful couch opposite of his father and looked at the murals depicting a famous scene of Poseidon, the sea god, creating the horse from nothing. Damion took a grape and popped it in his mouth. “Good morning father.”
Rashid looked up from the accounting books in his lap. “I see that you’ve been getting useless baubles for the people of Athens when they need food, clothing, and building materials for the poor!” he said with a bitter calmness that grated on Damion’s already shot nerves.
“I make a fair pay, and Athens is happy with the cargo that I bring them,” he replied back with the same manner of bitter calmness, knowing that a fight was already underway.
“You will do as you are told!” Rashid yelled at his son with black furry in his eyes. The people of Athens needed food and not useless luxuries for the wealthy.
“I will bring in what I want, since they are my ships!” Damion shot back at his father with the same, black, look in his eyes. Since his father didn’t understand that what the people wanted, they would get.
Shala sat by quietly on her couch next to her husband listening to the conversation between them, wanting to cry out for them to stop, but knowing it would do her no good. Their fighting had gone on since Damion had made his first talent from the ships he had borrowed from his father, the same ones he now owned by right. She got up slowly and bowed to her husband, “I am going to go and make my offering to the gods. Please don’t do anything rash.” She stared at her son in such a way that he looked down at his hands.
“Yes, mother, I need to meet with some people before the ship comes in tomorrow. Excuse me, Father.” He stood up and watched his mother leave the room and then made his way to the stable where his horse waited. As Damion walked out to the stables and heard the neigh of Akema, an Arabian horse from a trade with one of his drinking friends, coming from the corrals. He deviated from his path to the stable and made his way to the corrals to see why she was in there.
“Stable man, why have you put my horse in the corrals?” he yelled to the gentleman watching Akema running circles and tossing her silken brushed, midnight black, mane.
“She needed to run, sir, and I did not know if you would be coming out today to ride her.”
Damion looked the man over and returned his gaze to his horse. She continued to run a little more and then made her way to him as though she knew he was coming for her. Akema nuzzled his face, and he gave her some clover that he had gathered on the way to the stables.
“Get my bridle and saddle. I need to go and see a friend. I think she would enjoy a change of scenery,” he commanded the young man still staring at the horse with wonder.
“Yes sir,” and the stable boy jumped off of the wooden gates and ran into the stables to retrieve the items that his master had commanded of him. He brought out the saddle and Damion took it from him so the boy could go back for the bridle. Damion saddled Akema and jumped onto her back. “When I come back, be sure that her stall is cleaned and some oats are awaiting for her also a brush so I may brush her down.” The boy nodded his understanding and left to work immediately. Damion smiled after him and clicked his tongue to make Akema trot down the road towards Trave’s home.
Coming up to Trave's main gate Damion saw him running out to greet him, “Ah my friend! Come to see me so soon? I was hoping you would grace me with your presence, since I’m to have a grand feast tonight to honor Athena.” The man had his arms wide open with a glass of wine in his hand to show greetings in a warm manner towards Damion. Many rings covered the man’s fingers which made them look like small sausages. Damion looked the man up and down. Trave's expensive tunic looked ragged because he had slept in it the night before, and was a little tight around his stomach because it was beginning to bulge from too many delicate foods and too much wine. His face showed the same characteristics of pudgy cheeks that use to look handsome, but now looked pig-like from his expensive living style. Damion didn’t go into the man’s arms to receive his warm welcome, but stood there looking at him with disgust.
“I have come because I need to speak to you about business, not because of your party."
Damion scowled at him and walked into the court yard letting the stable boy take his horse. He gave her a pat and watched her go until the boy turned a corner. Damion returned his gaze to Trave. He made a smooth gesture up to the house. “May I come in so we can speak together?” he asked with icy politeness.
“Yes, of course you may come in. I’ll just call for some food and wine, but please make yourself comfortable.” Trave trembled a little as he walked into the peristyle and called his man servant to tell the cook to prepare a tray with meats and some wine for two. The wine came first and then the tray of delicacies that Trave liked so much. Trave picked one up, admired it with his beady, pig eyes, “Well, what would you like to know?” Trave asked and quickly started talking, then babbling on how he had been cheated out of his money because of the gambling he had been doing. Damion soon put up his hand to still Trave's senseless chatter about how nobody cared about his financials.
“I have come because I have a shipment coming in tomorrow, and I need to know if your going to pay me what you told me you would for some silk and other items we have spoken of.” Damion coolly sipped his wine and watched Trave’s outward reaction to his comment.
“I would gladly pay you, but right now I’m a little strained for money as I've told you. I owe other people some money and was wondering if you could help me get out of debt. When I have the money I owe you, I will repay you.” Trave gulped the rest of his wine and looked at Damion with sad, frightened, eyes of what the he would say.
“I will not give you a cent! How dare you intrude on my courtesy with a plea for money when I have given you money aplenty in the past and all you do is gamble it away!” Damion's eyes showed fire from his anger and burned straight into Trave’s eyes. “I’m leaving, now!” He got up and made his way to the door where the man servant bowed to him and opened the door. His horse was brought to him, and Damion got into the saddle with one fluid movement and galloped off. Back at his parent’s house, he told the servant to serve some wine and wash his road-dusted feet. The girl came and did as he commanded. While she washed his feet and laced up his shoes, he drank steadily and felt himself calm down with each gulp.
He started to reflect on what he had done at Trave’s and knew that he had been unwise by his outburst of anger. Trave had the ear of many people in power close to Pericles, the ruler of the land, and could have almost anyone killed just by blackmailing them. The wealthy usually tried to pay him off just so he would keep quiet about the business that went on in court or elsewhere that the common people should not know about. Affairs that developed at certain parties that he attended; a time in court when somebody who was innocent was sentenced going to die; any kind of juicy gossip that could get men in trouble with wives or the democracy.
These thoughts went through Damion’s mind for a time, and he knew by tomorrow he might be thrown into a dungeon or hanged for all the people to see. He took another drink of his wine, and ways of escaping this death came to him. He knew that if he stayed in Athens, he could very well be in a noose by tomorrow morning and have no more neck before the sun hit its highest point in the sky. His ship wasn’t going to be coming in until tomorrow morning, not leaving for about week as it gathered up gold and other rich fabrics, certain animals for slaughter, and slaves to take over seas for the markets. He kept pondering these facts until he remembered that a ship was leaving tonight after dark!
He got up and stumbled to his room. Finding a piece of paper and a pot of ink, he wrote to the captain of the ship and informed him that he would be joining their exploration and that no one needed to know that he would be going. Damion sent for the messenger boy, who took it and went down to the docks to deliver his master’s message. Damion packed a few belongings and wrote another message to his parents telling them that he would be leaving and would like to send for them when everything calmed like the sea after a storm and he thought it would be safe. He donned his cloak and made a hasty pace down the road towards the docks.
“Left, right... left, right, left! Forward men we must catch the traitor before he thinks of some way of escape!” the captain of the guard yelled to his men with spear in hand, ready to kill whom ever got in his way. Damion froze for a moment listening to the man encourage his men to continue marching towards their destination. He stood his ground for a moment longer, and knew that his family would suffer if he wasn’t found or seen by the soldiers. He stole to the side of the cobbled road and waited for the soldiers to pass. The last row went by and he walked to the middle of the street. I must be a fool for doing this!
“Hello, captain of the guard, whom are you looking for at this late hour?” Damion yelled in the direction of the soldiers, who all stopped in unison and turned around to look at the stranger who dared to stop and ask them questions. The captain of the guard trotted through the ranks to the new front of the line to see the stranger.
"That is not any of your business. How dare you ask questions of us." The captain of the guard took out his short sword ready to hack the stranger down because of his imprudence. Damion looked at him for a moment and recognized it was Alcander, a great friend in Damion's time of need, specially when he drank to much and needed a way to get home.
"I am just wondering who it is you seek so late at night because I saw someone run down this street and make a quick turn into an alley. He looked as if the dogs of Hades were after him." Damion kept his face hooded and pointed to the alley opposite him.
"Why would you tell us this peasant?" The captain of the guard came up and grabbed him by his cloak.
"I thought... I thought maybe I could get a small amount of money," Damion stammered, trying to sound frightened and hungry at the same time. The captain of the guard let him go and yelled at the rest of the soldiers. "Split up! Part of you go down that alley, part of you go up to the home. The rest of you will explore the opposite alley," he bellowed to the soldiers. They broke up into equal sections and marched off in unison towards their destinations with a clacking sound from their hobnailed sandals.
Damion looked at the man from under his hood and sized him up. He knew there was going to be a fight, and he didn't want to be the loser of the match. He just needed the captain to know he was the one he sought and his family wouldn't get hurt. The captain turned back toward to Damion. "Well, there you go, I suppose you'll be wanting your money, you filthy beggar?"
Damion stood there a moment and waited, getting as much breath as he could and unsheathed his small dagger without Alcander knowing that he had done so. "No I do not think I will need the money. I have plenty of my own, you see. I just needed to get you alone." Damion took his his dagger from under the cloak, and the captain took a step back.
"What is the meaning of this?" The captain's short sword was at the ready as he got into the familiar stance of a seasoned warrior who was ready for a fight to the death.
Damion lowered the hood so it pooled between his shoulder blades against his back and took the stance of a novice fighter. The captain stared at Damion for a moment and then cried, "it's you! Damion come in quietly and we can get this straightened out. You know Trave, he always gets angry with small things and tries to kill off the people or at least get them jailed for a time until his anger is appeased. I promise you that you won't face the noose or any public humiliation if you just come quietly." The captain spoke in earnest, hoping that the youth would listen to his words and change his mind about dying.
"I know Trave also, and I think he'll try to pull every string he has to make sure I die. I'm just making sure that my family won't suffer for my insolence and die in my place. But now you see me, and there will be no need for such a thing to happen."
The warrior looked at him with the a affection, a father might have for a son who finally showed his value and knew that he could not sway him from his current path. He lifted his sword, saluted Damion, and readied himself for the fight. Damion looked at the captain with an admiring gaze and took the first plunge with his dagger. The battle did not last long. Alcander soon fell to the ground with the dagger protruding from the his chest. Damion looked down at Alcander and saluted the captain. "Even in death may you be triumphant."
Noise from the soldiers coming back to report to their leader started to echo everywhere around him. Damion looked down one last time at the dead soldier and began to walk away from the grisley scene.
Damion ran the rest of the way to the docks towards the ships. The men were close behind him and seemed never to slow, "I am Damion son of Rashid and Shala here to sail on this ship. Let loose the lines for I'm in pursuit! The sailors worked quickly and accurately as Damion ran on the plank that led onto the ship, which started to take off slowly from the calm bay.
Soldiers ran onto the docks and some jumped into the water after the boat, hoping that they could make their way on and were never seen again, the rest of the soldiers yelled and cursed after the ship. Damion looked out at screaming soldiers and sat down heavily on the deck, breathing with his lungs on fire from running so hard. He looked at his hands and saw blood stained them a horrible rusted color with flecks of red from the blood that hadn't yet dried.
Later on that year his parents were hung for every Greek to see the shame that the family had brought upon itself for their only son to run away for a crime that he had committed. Damion heard about all of this from a traveler that had seen the deed carried out by the executor's own hand.
"Why do you ask these things of me stranger? Were you not there?" The weather beaten face looked at the cloaked figure for some sign of acknowledgement.
"No, I have been on this ship for a long time and have had no news of Athens for we have been traveling to different areas and resting when cargo is put on board." Damion said in a low voice, hidden underneath his cloak, waiting for some question that he could not answer because it might give away his identity. The traveler just looked at him and then looked back out at the beautiful blue of the sky in contrast to the sea.
"I am sorry for what has happened to your parents Damion, and I am ever sorry for the cruel task that I have to carry out too. Hades is waiting for you and the gods do not like to wait when someone is suppose to die and somehow escapes!"
Damion's eyes widened with fear, and threw his hood back, "how do you know who I am?"
The traveller laughed at him, "why do you not know who I am? I am Hermes, the messenger god of all mighty Zeus, caretaker of Apollo's sacred cows, and escort of the dead to the river Styx who await Charon to ferry them to Erebus and into Hades."
Damion stared at the god in amazement, "but my friend, it is now time for you to leave this world, for you were suppose to die, and the gods do not like to be cheated out of what is theirs to take. So I am here to escort you down to the River Styx, after I have killed you." The god raised his shepherd's staff for the killing blow.
"wait, please wait oh merciful Hermes! Have mercy on me for I still wish to live on this earth." Damion bowed his head and knew that the fates would have their way no matter how it happened and that his parents sadly had died in vain for his foolishness, but he wanted so desperately to avenge their deaths because of his ignorance of the gods' plans. I must be crazy as into try and trick a mighty god. Maybe it would be a good death to die by the hand of god instead of a mere mortal.
"I will die by your hand all mighty Hermes, but please let my family be in the Ephesian Fields, for it was my insolence that led to there shameful death. I wish to bare the weight of both of their sufferings into the being of eternity, since it was my fault that my parents were hanged in the first place."
Hermes looked at the youth wondering if he was trying to trick him or if he was being truthful in every sentence he uttered, "I will make your wishes known to Lord Hades, for it is your fault that you turned coward and ran to save your own neck. Though I admire it, I do not approve of you abandoning your family. This will all be so and now you must die." Hermes raised his staff over his head and came down as hard as he could over the youths head, who fell to the floor of the deck with blood making a small pool around him from the gash in his skull from Hermes mighty staff.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
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