Reflections 7

This Present Darkness
By Frank E. Peretti

This book is by a Christian writer, and I would dare say that he's quite charismatic. His stories talk alot about spiritual battles, angels, demons, the lot.

"This Present Darkness" is set in a town called Ashton, where a Coporation that has ties with evil spirits is trying to take over the town by gaining possesion of the college. In a small town, the college plays a huge part in the lives of the people. Marshall Hogan, editor of the small town newspaper who moved in from New York, as well as Bernice Krueger, a young woman searching for the truth behind her sister's gruesome suicide, start chasing leads and uncovering truths. People who were defamed and chased out of town, who paid their taxes but were still driven out from their homes. But nothing makes sense. How is the coporation able to get away with all it has done?

Henry Busche, a newly elected pastor of a church that "didn't seem to want him", keeps encountering resistance from some older members in the church whenever he tries to preach the Word of God. He doesn't understand either. Why would people elect him into a church just to go against him? And why is there so much spiritual resistance too?

Peretti's writing is almost similar to Archer's, in a sense that there is a twist in the story. What seemed bad at first turns out for good. When all hope seemed lost, it actually wasn't. In a touching story about good vs evil, it shows the power that God gives to his people when they pray, trust and obey. It also reflects much about the unity for a single cause and care among the hosts of a good God, against the distrust and rivalry of the evil spirits.

Spirits were never something I gave much thought about before I read this book. Angels, yes, I knew about them, and as a Christian knew about the promise of protection in the Bible. But demons were something I never really thought about. At first I was frightened by the thought, but realised that I didn't have to be that way. And now I find myself less afraid of the dark and of being alone. The truth really sets one free, doesn't it? I found this story touching, moving, exciting and uplifting.

But as for Peretti's descriptions of casting out of demons etc, I was not really able to visualise those as, growing up in a conservative church, I've never really seen or heard about those experiences. But, I suppose, all things are possible with God.

Reflections 6

Shall we tell the President?
By Jeffrey Archer

I have always enjoyed books by Jeffrey Archer. They unfurl slowly, gradually, then speed up and just when everything is going full speed, the problem is solved, with the signature twist at the end.

This story comes after "The Prodigal Daughter", which is about the rise of power of the first female president of the United States. She has strong views against the usgae of guns, and this earns her many enemies. An FBI officer finds out about a plot to kill the president. He and a small group of colleagues, including the Director, whose initials are H.A.L.T. are the only ones who can stop the would-be assasins. As the story progresses, all those who know are killed off one by one, until only the main character and the Director are the ones alive. In a dramatic climax where they finally uncover the senator plotting against the president, and successfully stop the assasin. All without the president's knowledge. The tale ends with the officer asking the Director, "Shall we tell the President?"

I was really intrigued by this plot and the way Archer could cleverly come up with such a plot. It is fresh, interesting, and definately one-of-a-kind. It also has its momentary moments of amusement. All the FBI staff and officers take part in a lottery, whereby one has to pay ten dollars to make a guess on what the Director's first name could be. If the person gets it right, he or she can take the winnings, which at the time of the story, have run up to about ten thousand dollars. If he is wrong, his ten dollars goes into the "fund". Our main character has made a few guesses, but all of them failed. At the end of the adventure, the officer has become the right hand man of the Director. "You may call me by my first name," said the Director after some time. "It unerves me to always have someone calling me 'sir'." And so our lucky main character wins the money. But the thing that really tickled me was his name: Horatio. No one ever thought he would have such a... name. And rightfully so.

Although there were occasional crude words and some "adult" content, I learnt to overlook those. It would be a pity to put such an interesting plot down because of a few unpleasantries. But I do wish he'd stop writing such things. They're really quite unnecesaary.

Reflections 5

The Storyteller's Daughter.
By Saira Shah

Enter a world of subtle magic. This is the "Arabian Nights" retold, and, according to the prologue, is told by the storyteller (or drabadi) herself. This makes it even more intriguing, as the reader now sees a totally different part of the story.

Subtle magic. Magic found in the stories that speak of life, and how to live it. Every person draws a different piece of cloth from the drabadi's old chest. The storyteller, Shahrazad, then "reads" the cloth and tells the person his or her personal story. This story is not a biography, rather it speaks to the person's own personal problems and feelings. All this against the background of plots and schemes among the royal, those in power, and those who have fallen.

What I really like about this "magic" is that it allows the story to unfold. After all, how can one story relate to every character? But yet, at the same time, it is not fantastic or unbelievable, and this allows the story to keep its feet on the ground.

The storyteller and the king are people who have locked their hearts away from the rest of the world. This results in much miscommunication and hurt feelings. Still, they sort out the mess right at the end, and it leaves one with a feeling of satisfaction and relief.

I enjoyed reading this story. It was literally stuck to me the whole time I was reading it. It has a tinge of magic, lots of mystery, and at the same time remains realistic.

Reflections 4

Ok, that's all I shall do on short stories. I shall go on to novels

If Only They Could Talk-James Herriot

Just a short introduction on the author. James Herriot was a veterinarian working in England (it is England, isn't it?), in the Dales. So his stories are based, guess what? On animals, of course. But in his writings he also talked about the different kinds of people he met, like the silent resilience of the farmers, as well as some of the eccentric personalities he met.

One of the most stirring themes that recurr again and again in Herriot's stories is the philosophical outlook that the "simple" Dales farmers have towards life. As James Herriot put it himself, "even when they (the farmers) took blows that would have made the city dweller bang his head against the wall in frustration", their outlook was always "Aye, things like that happen." And "things" do happen; prized milk cows die of anthrax or milk fever; entire stys of pigs die of swine fever; horses have to be put down because of colic. They take it all in their stride. Simple-minded folks? Even the pet owners understand when "it's time for him (the pet) to go". Wow, if only I could be so accepting to what life gives me. If being simple-minded is what gives them such resilience and peace in times of trouble, then its not such a bad thing after all. Of course, there are tight-fisted farmers who grumble and complain. A typical example would be a certain Mr Biggins, who would only call James and his colleague after an animal has lain in pain and suffered for a few weeks. Even then, he was not willing to to have James examine his animal immediately, hesitating over "t' large bill yer gonna send me". And of course, there is usually nothing James can do for the animal, and when it finally dies, its complain and grumble. But, as Herriot himself said, its these contrasting personalities that give his work "variety".

Another heartwarming feature of the Dales folk is their hospitality. After a treating his patient, regardless of whether it lived or died, Herriot would always be invited in for "a cup o' tea". What he would actually be treated to was a lot more sumptious than what was said. Even after the meal, the farmer would slip a pound of butter or pork into the back of Herriot's car before he left. This hospitality of their's was often hidden underneath deadpan faces, but is nevertheless heartwarming to read of such friendliness and kindness. As with everything, there are exceptions to the rule. Many a time James was blamed for the death of an animal and left with threats hurled after him

James married his wife, Helen, after a year or two of moving to Darrowby, but before that, he lived with Siegfried and Tristan Farnon. Siegfried was his employer, while Tristan was Siegfried's younger brother, who was still studying to be a veterinarian. When James first heard Siegfried's name, he thought he was in for a pudgy, short and fat German vet. Meeting under unusual circumstances, James got the surprise of his life when Siegfried turned out to be very English indeed. Siegfried and Tristan seldom got along harmoniously, and many interesting, amusing, and frantic moments were shared.

I have enjoyed reading James Herriot's many books on his career. It talks about the different people he met, which was indeed very varied, from the doting Mrs Pumphrey and her Pekinese Tricki Woo, to grouchy, tight-fisted Mr Cranford. It also talks about the advantages and difficulties that he faced due to the advancement of technology. It is indeed very heartwarming, with many amusing and many frantic moments. James Herriot has the ability to draw his reader into the situation, and enables the reader to visualise things as they were. I could hear, smell and even see what must have happened at that very moment he writes about. I have truly enjoyed being absolutely drawn into the story by his marvelous ability to tell a story.

Reflections 3

Ok. Enough of Guy de Maupassant.

The Ambitious Guest
By Nathaniel Hawthorne

This is another interesting short story. It seems so full of hope and life at the beginning, the family is warm and happy although alone, the stranger is knowledgeable and well-read. Then the grandmother starts talking about death. And a surprising and dramatic ending.

At the start of the story, my impression of the family is that of a closely knit one; they stay together all alone, they entertain guests occasionally, and they live every day knowing that the mountain could send snow and other debris on them anytime. What a life. It seems so peaceful compared with what I do everyday, but I suppose if I were to live that kind of life, I would be bored in no time. But I rather envy their quiet and peaceful life. It is indeed heartwarming to be met with such warmth and kindness after traveling long and hard.

It seems such a contrast that such a family would be living among harsh surroundings, in fear of their lives every moment. I wonder why they did not leave even though they knew their lives were in danger from the mountain. Is it just complacency? No, for they did make arrangements in case of an emergency. Then is it just plain simple trust?

This young person seems very certain that he will be able to build his own monument. Bet he didn't know he would be crushed alive."Then, let Death come! I shall have built my monument!" That's one overconfident person. He tempted Death one too many times.

The guest and the girl present two extremes: one is overly confident and ambitious, the other is too content. There's quite a fine line between them, and its quite a tricky balancing act.

In the young child, we can see this nature of man- to do the impossible. In the child, it is unrealistic. But in the guest, though it is still present, it is more realistic. The child dreams more of fantasies, the guest more of fame.

When the story reaches the part where the guest speaks to the girl, the family seems to be at its "golden era", where the future is bright, and every thing is possible. This atmosphere is also brought about by the guest, and it really contrasts with what happens later.

And then the land slide occurs. It is so sudden as it happens when the story and the feeling of hope are at the peak. And it is just so ironic! If the family had not thought so much, if they had just lived life simply and trusted fate as they had always done so and remained in the house, they would have been safe. As for the young man, he died exactly the way he had described, unknown and undistinguished, except for the tragedy that made them famous. How ironic! His wonderment at the way sailors died unknown and forgotten was a curse that came through. He had so much in front of him, so much planned, but within a minute, the life that was his was no more. A future that had seemed so bright was utterly crushed.

How I worry and fret sometimes! Its all based on the assumption that I will see tomorrow. How silly I am to worry, for it does nothing good. So many things could happen. But yet I can hope and expect tomorrow. Humans are strange. They plan so many things, and are surprised when death takes all away. But I guess it doesn't do to be paranoid either. Balancing is indeed a very fine act.

Reflections 2

Moonlight-Guy de Maupassant
http://www.classicshorts.com/stories/Moonlight.html

After reading the last short story, The Donkey, by above author, I was just dying to know whether this guy was really that sick or if he was just having a bad hair day when he wrote The Donkey. And this next short story, which is about feelings and love, has proven that de Maupassant is not entirely mad, but perhaps a more inflective person who just went crazy due to physical illness later in life. Seems like life in those days was quite dramatic, especially with love and all that.

At the start of the story, when the author described how Madame Julie waited expectantly for her sister, Madame Henriette, who was due to arrive any minute after being away for five weeks, I could empathise with her, and could feel that feeling of expectancy, impatience; feeling that time passes too slowly, and that the person you wait for could never come too soon. And before they even greeted each other, they hugged each other first. Then they started asking each other how they were, and how their families were getting on. I could really feel the warmth and joy that comes from being with someone close to heart.

Then, Madame Julie saw her sister's locks of white hair. When I read that, I thought, Oh no, not another sadistic story. But I also felt with the younger sister, who became demanding with her elder sister, as love sometimes makes us. And when Madame Henriette poured out her feelings, de Maupassant wrote that Madame Julie simply "listened". Now, not to be sexist or anything, but I am quite surprised that as a guy de Maupassant knew that what a sad and troubled heart wanted was a listening ear. I guess I've always thought women were better in that area. But despite what I have always thought he was able to understand, as anyone who has ever been troubled will. Till now I always thought guys were all out of touch with their hearts. Oh well. I stand corrected, at least for this exception.

I can also see that de Maupassant was quite a romantic person. He is able to connect feelings with things of beauty. I've always found that guys are quite unsentimental and insensitive to all these things of beauty, as I've all too often found in two classic examples, my brother and father. My elder brother will always start telling me all sorts of facts about rainbows when all I want to do is enjoy them, while my father never watches romantic movies. Hence I always have to be the one to accompany my mother. Not that I mind it, anyway. But as I was saying, de Maupassant knew how it felt to have to bottle up feelings; the frustration of not having a way to express one's emotion. It really feels like one is going to burst, like a balloon filled with too much air.

Finally, the thing that impressed me most was right at the end. When Madame Julie told her sister, "You see, sister, very often it is not a man that we love, but love itself. And your real lover that night was the moonlight", it seemed to me that de Maupassant knew how complex feelings were, and how easily feelings become mixed up with one another. Most importantly, he was able to know that they were different and sort them out using the characters in his story. Feelings of admiration, respect and love. Very few people my age, I have realised, actually know that they are different. For example, when they chase a pop singer, and they call it love, I feel that it is more of admiration, and out of a wish that every person has: to be someone important, and to fill that empty part in their hearts that asks, "Why am I here?" One cannot possibly love a person one does not know, unless that person first does something worthy of love. So how can they say they love a singer they have only known through the very public media? Guy de Maupassant also brought out the question of what love really is. To some people, love is just a feeling. I think, and this is my personal opinion, that true love is not just a feeling, but who you are with that someone. For example, in the story, Madame Henriette could finally realise her passion through someone who shared her love for the beauty of nature, and the moonlight that captured her heart. Because this person is able to feel with her, she feels a sense of satisfaction and fulfilment, and mistakes these feelings with the same love that she shares with her husband. She does love her husband, because he is good and kind and cares for her, but yet he is unable to fulfil her needs. So along comes this young man who is a kindred spirit, and who understood "everything that made me thrill", and one can hardly blame Madame Henriette for thinking that she was in love with him. The sensitivity of de Maupassant is also reflected through Madame Julie, who despite her young years, is able to think calmly and clearly and sort out her sister's feelings for her.

After reading the story, the only thing that came to my mind was: whoa. I mean, talk about being sensitive and emotionally heavy. Guy de Maupassant is able to through a simple story and a single line conclusion tell so much about emotion, that strange thing that most teenagers my age are just barely beginning to understand. What I really enjoyed about this story is the simplicity of the plot that is yet able to put through an important truth. Wow. I guess this gives me a whole new perspective. Also, I can see that France must have been quite a dramatic place to live in. Seems like a lot of stories with dramatic emotion are set in there, not least Les Miserables. I guess that is what has influenced the main themes of de Maupassant's short stories. He hasn't disappointed me so far.

Reflections 1

Short Story-The Donkey, by Guy de Maupassant
http://www.classicshorts.com/stories/donkey.html

My first reaction to this story: gross. Who in the world would write such a sick story? Two men living a wandering life, illegally killing rabbits, torturing a donkey, stealing boats. In a word: perverted. And what is it with that crazy Labouise, calling everyone his "sister". Its as if he wanted everyone else in the world to be a woman. Talk about gender discrimination.

Upon reading that these two men lived a wanderer's life, my first reaction was: oh, that kind of person. And when they killed those poor grey rabbits illegally, I really got mad. But yet somehow, I was compelled to read on and see just how mean these men could get.

Then I read the part when they killed the donkey. That was terrible! They didn't just kill it, they tortured it! Instead of just dealing a death blow, they shot it with smaller pellets just to see it bray and get hurt. And when the woman tried to save the donkey, they threatened to shoot her as well. How sadistic. When I read that part, I was hoping somehow that someone would come and save the donkey. The writer even described how the donkey twitched before it died, and its "mournful cry". Yuck. I don't think I've ever read such a sadistic story.

But yet, even as wanderers, Maillochon and Labouise are no fools. By the way they killed the rabbits one by one carefully and patiently, I doubt if they've ever been caught. Even when they are greedy, they are still able to fool others cleverly and make a quick buck. For instance, in the case of the donkey, Labouise managed to fool the innkeeper by describing the animal as large, grey and with no horns, making it sound so mysterious when it was only an ordinary donkey. Everyone knows donkeys can't be eaten, yet Labouise had the tack to say, "I don't know what it is!--but it's there. I'll give you back your money if you find nothing" meaning that even if the innkeeper found the donkey, he could not get his money back from Labouise as he did not promise that it would be anything, just that it would be there.

This story is indeed different from anything I've ever read. For instance, this is one of the rare stories where men who do evil actually get away with it. I was hoping that the donkey wouldn't die, and that the men would be repayed for their evil deeds, and I was disappointed. Yet if things had turned out the way I had hoped, this story would be no different from all the others, and I guess you could say this is what makes this story unique.

P.S. Guy de Maupassant suffered from syphillis, a disease that caused increasing mental disorder. At the height of his illness, he tried to commit suicide and was admitted to a private asylum as Passy, in Paris. I suppose that accounts for the "uniqueness" of this story. Surprisingly, he was once a civil servant in the ministry of education.

Ahem.

Oh man, I never knew getting a blog was so troublesome. Ok. I'm convinced. Writing it down is so much better. For one, you just need a pen. Secondly, I can write it in my room while the computer is in the living room. Thirdly, there are some people I know who would read my blog. (Like I want to tell everyone my feelings?) And yes, that could possibly mean YOU. And that doesn't mean you, Ms Teng.

Oh whatever. This blog's only for English Elect anyway. No offense to all those fanatic bloggers out there.

P.S. Is this font too small?