Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe

Something, for me personally, that I have always had trouble with, is the concept of enslavement, and the brutality that seems to come with it. I am a huge fan of history, especially American history, and one of the reasons why I love the Civil War era so much is because I struggle with the realities that African Americans faced. It really makes me sad. The simple fact that my own ancestors could be so cruel to a race of people that they regarded as less then themselves, which seems almost ironic, seeing is how our country was founded upon the principles that "all men are created equal," causes me to wonder what it would have been like if the tables were turned.

Suppose in fact, that the supposedly dominate race of men were those of darker skin, and the people who were subservient to them were white. I know that many people back in those days, especially the slave owners who were anything less than loving to their slaves, would have thought twice about how they treated them, if they knew that they could do the same things to them.

For this post, the perspective is about you. One of the great things about this story, is that Stowe does such a great job at displaying the perspectives of both the slave traders, and the slaves, that one can easily put themselves as anyone of the characters, and understand the feelings and events they faced.

So...how do you feel about them? If you put yourself into Eliza's shoes or Haley's would you have done the same things they did? I think if I was in Eliza's place, I would probably have reacted the same way that she did,... but as for Haley, there is no way I could have taken anyone away from their mother, and would have bought both of them regardless.
  

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The Last of the Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper

Out of all the reasons to enjoy reading, The Last of the Mohicans, by James Cooper, my favorite is the simple fact that two opposing forces are joined together for one common cause. Cooper does a marvelous job at presenting the difficulties that both Native American tribes, and the European settles have with the French invaders, but also a little with each other; creating a dramatic representation of history. He writes in the third person as one who is witnessing the events of the dynamic duo, Natty Bumppo, and his Indian friend, Chingachgook, as they try to regain their land from the Maquas Indians, and the British. Though we see these two as the sole characters involved with the invasion of Fort William Henry, it is Chingachgook's son, Uncas, who is the last of his tribe, and the one who is key to obtaining their land.

In my own mind I often wonder what James Cooper thought when he wrote this story. One could say that he wanted to rally both the settlers and Indians together against the French who were invading the land at the time. But it could also be said that Cooper simply wanted to write a dramatic historical fiction book, displaying some of the recent events of the day. Either way, I think no one would argue that this book is definitely part of a favorites list in any literature circle.

This entry is taken from the second volume and third chapter of the book; taking on the perspective of Uncas, right before he comes out and surprises Natty, and Chingachgook as they engage in a discussion of ancestory.

The air was crisp, the day was warm, and it seemed the spirits were shining their faces upon me. I could feel the gentle breeze flowing through the air, as I walked across the rough ground, and looked about the forest. My father told me he had gone to be with the white man so as to prepare for the attack on the Maquas, but I found it best to tracking them myself. I didn't know the white man well, but father seemed to like him. With each step, my shoulders tightened, and my neck grew firm. There was the edge. I knew it was because the air got thick and gray, and the ground grew smoother beyond the hill. The Maquas were not far. I chipped a slash in the side edge of the tree nearby, and stepped back the way I had came. It wasn't long before I heard the stream in it's steady tone answering to the silent calls of the trees, and I felt my heart lighten. My people had lived on this land forever, but the white man came and destroyed our village. We were doubtful at their trades and misgivings. We were angry when they took over our homes. We were sad when our chief was gone. But now all who is left is me and my father. Though now the Maquas want to take over. Will not the spirits grant us this victory? My eyes found the stream, and rested upon the two black figures sitting on the side of it. I could only see the back of the white man's head, and part of father's face, as I tuned my ears to hear someone say, "where are to be found your race, which came to their kin in the Delaware country, so many summers since." I assumed this to be the white man, and listened intently to my father's response, and found my name mentioned. Now I saw them both in plane view. "Uncas is here! who wishes Uncas?" 

Image URL: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Last_of_the_Mohicans_(1992_film)

Rip Van Winkle by Washington Irving

I love the story of Rip Van Winkle, because it reminds me of my own life, and how often I feel when I encounter something from my childhood that brought me great enjoyment or pleasure. I dive into a world of deep emotion and serendipity as I recollect the significance of what I had known before my life presently, and wish at times I could turn the clock back. As Irving writes the tale of Rip Van Winkle, I can only image that he found recollections of his own life in which to attribute this story, maybe evening seeing himself as Winkle in some instances. In Winkle's case though, much of his past was loathsome, because of the demands of his nagging wife who found his ways to be, as Irving puts it, "impertinent". But though Winkle was a lazy man to himself all of his life, it seems at best to his character that this is also the source of his pleasure even after he as awaken some twenty years later, and finds his wife to be dead and gone. It is evident then, at the knowledge of his wife's death, and is contented simple ways, that he finds the most enjoyment out of his new  life. It proves a great lesson, that enjoyment in life comes from being contented with today, and I wonder if that was something Irving was learning himself.

To look at this story from a different perspective would not be hard, for Irving supplies many different supporting characters to help us grasp Rip Van Winkle's tale, and it is to some interest that we see it from all of their perspectives. I think Irving purposefully brings in his children and town's people, so that we see the importance of this man's life no matter how unprofitable it may seem to be. Many people can find themselves in a place where they feel that their life is worthless, and reaps no pleasure. Though Winkle finds pleasure in simplicity, this is also his downfall, as he counts other people as more important then himself. What this story suggests, is that regardless of how someone may feel about themselves, there is always someone else who holds worth to that person whether they see it or not. The very fact that his son and daughter, and really all the town's people, are so shocked at Winkle's appearance, shows us something of his worth, even though it was still in question who this man actually was at this point in the story. For years Winkle never saw his life as anything important only other people's, and certainly never cared enough for his children or his wife. But after meeting his children fully grown, and learning of his wife's death, he now sees his life differently and finds enjoyment out of being just who he was made to be.

HTML: http://brentbooks.blogspot.com/2012/03/what-was-theme-of-rip-van-winkle.html

The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe

Most people are quite familiar with Poe's stories, because of their dark and gruesome plots, but also because Poe writes from the first person perspective of deeply disturbed "madmen" who hope to prove their sanity in killing people or things. In the Tell-Tale Heart, it is no different as the narrator tries to rid himself of an old man's "evil eye" by killing him. Due to the fact that most of Poe's writing are written through the eyes of the "madman," something compels me to see or understand how his victim(s) would feel. Though I am sure no one would want to be in the same situation as any murder victim, I feel this may indicate something about Poe's deeper fear in himself, since most of the time Poe writes as if he is the one killing, and never takes on that different perspective.

This journal entry is written then from the perspective of the old man, in The Tell-Tale Heart, who has been aroused in his sleep by some unknown fear. Little does he know that he will be attacked and killed within moments.

The air was thick as I jolted up my resting head. Something wasn't right. "Who's there?" I said with a low sullen voice. It was all I could do, to pull the blanket farther up my chest. I sat there timelessly with the thin blanket seemingly swallowing me up whole. I couldn't stand it, my heart grew faint, and then quickened the longer the darkness held. My eyes glazed over the darken sea of blackness, searching...searching for any familiar form it could find. Nothing. Something wasn't right. The darkness and silence seemed to slither up my back, and the fear bottled inside of me caused my stomach to lurch. "It is nothing," I thought. Yet I felt trapped and encased in the darkness. "It is nothing but the wind." I felt my muscles relax slightly as I felt the ever so small beam of moon light graze over my eye... but then,... wasn't the window on the other side of my bed, of which I could possibly see light? I tilted my head ever so slightly to the side, fearful of what I might glimpse. Terror escalated in my heart as I felt the presence of an unknown form in my room, releasing it into a low moan from my held breath. "IT...IS...NO ONE!" screamed my head to my quickening heart beat. My heart would not listen. I sat there longer, telling my deaf heart to listen, but it refused.Then.... I saw him! He screeched fiercely at me, and in my shear terror came at me engulfing me with his body. He moved swiftly and purposefully with his task, and as I realized that my defeat was soon at hand, I let out a final cry of horror from my mouth until I felt my mattress encase it. I thrashed hoping to gain the smallest molecule of air in which to fill my lungs, but the more I pushed the more he held. My lungs grew as stone, and I felt there weight hard pressed on my body, until I could no longer feel them. It was then that I was no longer afraid.    

Picture URL :http://www.britannica.com/biography/Edgar-Allan-Poe

Introduction

Hey everyone!

If you have ever seriously considered your life, I am sure most of us have pondered what it would be like to look at our lives through someone else's perspective, or as we would call it "stepping into someone else's shoes." I admit I did this quite often as a kid, and since I have a sister so close to me in age, I would imagine myself as her, and try to see what she sees when she looks at me. (It's not too hard when your a twin!) Though this does take a great deal of imagination on any ones part, I also found that it was extremely fun, and life changing, as you all can image. One of the reasons that I love literature so much, even if it is not just American Literature, is because you get a chance to look at life differently than that of your own perspective, and so in this blog that is exactly what I want to do. 

If you think about it each persons life is a story, and when each author writes a piece of literature, (whether it's a poem, a sonnet, a novel, or a play) they probably have a reason behind it. Unfortunately, unless we find a way to travel back in time, we probably will never know the true reason why. In playing around with this concept, what I want to do then is to look at a piece of literature from the eyes of another character's perspective in a story. This could be someone that I have made up, or an actual character that the author has written. My hope is, is that through changing our view point about a character, we can dive deeper into the purpose behind a piece of literature, and maybe find passage into the original thoughts of the author. 

These different perspective blogs will be post one of two ways. Sometimes they will be posted as journals, with short entries on how a character (not the main character) feels or thinks about a situation that is taking place in the story, or they will be more of an analysis response based on my thoughts about another character's point of view, either about a situation or their character's part in general. All of the stories will come from what we are reading in class. Both of these entries are definitely up for involvement, so if anyone has the desire to post something along with them, definitely feel free to do so!