Lanier’s Comments (group member since Nov 18, 2008)

Lanier’s comments from the MHSHS Reading Group group.

The Boot of Lucifer: Found Poem - Miller's The Crucible

A man may think God sleeps,
I want to open myself,
but, it is the best the devil
Wants.

I want to open myself,
I danced for the Devil,
The marks of his presence are precise,
as definite as
Stone.

I want to open myself,
"You work for me,
and I make you free!
I give you pretty dress to wear,
and put you up in the air!"

I want to open myself,
I wrote in his book
A fire is burning,
he choose my house to
Strike.

"I shall not proceed
unless
you are prepared to plead!"

I want to open myself,
I kiss his hand
I twist around the single error of
my life
There are wheels within wheels
and fires within fires!


Lanier Carson

During the Winter Break and in conjunction with our Transcendentalist and Gilded Age Units, scholars must produce at least three original poems of SELF, the effects of a transforming America and at least two FOUND POEMS (Thematic Huck Finn). This is your space to publish your edited, ORIGINAL (borrowed) Poetry. Due-March 25, 2011 --100 points

1. All submissions must first be peer edited by at least two other people.
2. Final edits must come through Mr. Carson or Ms. Walrond before publishing on this site.

3. Hard Copies with your name and P2, P3, P6, P7 or P8 must be put in your Writing Folders.

4. Deadlines: March 25, 2011

5. No profanity or extremely graphic or gory materials.

6. VOCABULARY from last three weeks, LOCAL COLOR, DIALOGUE, SENSORY IMAGERY--a must.

7. NOTHING published without prior teacher approval.

8. All submissions will have a presentation element-perform your poems.

9. Don't forget to UNCLICK "Add to my Update Feed" and "Email me when people reply" fields to avoid extra e-letters with your submissions.

10. Feel free to leave constructive criticisms for any and all peer submissions.


Have fun!!!

Sally, it looks as though you've actually listened AND READ edits concerning how to PUNCTUTUATE dialogue. Well, done. Full credit as your P7 class had that extension.
Great stories all, especially those of you who followed instructions.

Once again, this is the very first time I'm seeing any of these poems, Alice, which means it's impossible to gain the full 200 for this assignment, originally assigned Feb 12, 2010, Rough Drafts originally due Mon. Feb 22 with the subsequent 17-24 days to get three scholars to Peer Edit and get the 2nd Drafts to me by March 17 or 24th.

In just the first poem you dizzyingly go from simply Past Tense to Present then to Past Participle (had seen), for some inexplicable reason. Then this wonderful "....I seen". I think you have a purpose behind this, but it was difficult just finishing it. Oh, and "gray" was misspelled. Sorry, I gotta seen these deleted?

Please send these to me, make edits and re-publish for partial credit.

Better Luck Tomorrow-

Unforrunately, Rabia nor Shyiem were reading any of the comments or e-letters sent with strict instructions, so points are lost and stories have been deleted since they have NOT followed explicit instructions.

Better Luck Tomorrow-

Kinga-AMAZING! Great edits on dialogue punctuation. Cute and colorful story.
Alan, unfortunately, this is the very first I've seen of this story, which does NOT adhere to any of the criteria listed above, mentioned in class (Pink Reminder Sheet) nor announced in class since Feb. 22 and on mygradebook???

Get edit done, re-submit for partial points.
Better Luck Tomorrow!

Daineen, great story, however, this is POETRY???

Julie, Kelley, and Jeidi, excellent work.
Kelley, it's Marvin Gaye, not "Gay", but excellent sentiments. I wish you'd have sent me ALL your poems as instructed and put a few more up here. "Mt Dream Place" is excellent, though perhaps split into stanzas??

Awilma, many typos, and I never received these on time BEFORE publication so it's tough to earn the total points? "Cancer cells" would be a great poem if
1) you gave it a more ambiguous title
2) there weren't 6 or so typos (lost its meaning in your rush to publish without edits.)
3)you split up sentiments and
4)replaced a few words (".....need a calculator to divide..." would give it a more mathematical feel.


Better Luck Tomorrow

Well done Sade, Krisly, Angel, Afsana M., Kevin and Alexander E!!!

Christian, Calvin and Winifer I've deleted your since you have NOT followed instructions on punctuating dialogue, you have uploaded seven different chapters, some smack dab in the middle of a sentence, which I couldn't understand?? and you add profanity AFTER I'd edited a version without ANY in it??? These all go against the prescribed guidelines clearly stated. Fix them, e-me these final edits and get them back up here before Tues. April 6 for partial credit (180 max).

Joando, yours is NOT a creative piece. This is called Non-Fiction, which is what every one of your essays have been as well as that Family Creative Short Story performed a month ago.

The Story, "Maliki's Heat" and any novel you're currently reading is FICTION, or make-believe. Your assignment, as explained to you at least three times, is to create a story about anything you wish into one full of Local Color, dialogue, plot and developed characters. You were to then get it to at least two of your peers for edits and then back to me for final edits. None of this is what was turned in, so please, get it done for partial credit.

Well done, Saymon, Xie, Ka Min and Zumana, however for those BEFORE you submit, please get me copies and READ any book with dialogue. If your dialogue does NOT look similar with the punctuation, FIX IT SO IT DOES.

Here are five of the most common errors I've been editing:

1. PICK Past Tense! You switch constantly from Present to Past and back to Present again!!

2. Start a new P for every new bit of dialogue:

Additionally, punctuation within dialogue needs to LOOK exactly like 98% of all books, newspaper articles and other published dialogue looks. You started out smoothly, then you simply LOST the format halfway through.

Take a look at any book, magazine, or newspaper article with dialogue/quotes, and see the way dialogue and narrative are used.

Ex: "Stop that," Kerri growled, slapping her little brother's hand away.
"What's wrong with you?" Jonnie cried, rubbing his hand. He looked away, thinking of their nights of partying and feeling fine with her smile in his eyes. They had been the best of friends since forever, hanging out whenever and wherever they could. Jonnie was appreciative of her willingness to have him tag along, especially since he was younger and not as knowledgeable as she was. After all, she had taught him how to ride a bike, tell stories and climb stone walls and chain-link fences. He, on the other hand, had taught her how to whistle, to spit and to tell time.
"Nothing," Kerri snapped. "Just leave me alone!"
"Alright, no need to bite my head off," Jonnie replied. “Geeze, I was just trying to help.”
He wasn't going to push it. He knew how she could be when something bigger was on her mind.

Notice the way the dialogue and narrative are sometimes indented, especially when it's starting a new thought, idea or narrative descriptions.

3. Describe "him" "her" or your protagonist or antagonist

4. get rid of ALL (;). You have NO idea when or how to use them and, as I've been saying since Sept., if you haven't bothered to LEARN when to use them you shouldn't rely on Spell Check to simply insert them whenever they say. 99.9% of the times Spell Check inserts this punctuation, you could simply USE A (,).

5. Show don't tell. This story is short, but with a little more Sensory Imagery, well-formatted dialogue and descriptive narrative, you'd have a fabulous short creative fiction piece.

Good luck, only 24 more hours left to publish and there have been about 15 scholars on these three Groups!!

Camila, great feedback here and under the "Tragic Heroes" Groups. Why do you think Marc Forster, the director of the movie version, chose to make those changes when having them in would have been very easy?

Dequan “My Beautiful Flower”, “I Am a Caged Bird” and “Drown” are neck-and-neck as my favorite poems, by far. I still am not a fan of that “Death is..” repetition, just a bit tedious. That’s my own personal bias, others may LUB it! Not to say, the message isn’t great. It is. I just feel some of it is lost when one re-reads(says) those two words over and over again.

“My heart fell through my first hand/now it is broken/” LOVE this line!

Too many errors in “Uncertainty--’Jiggy’”

“I Create My Future Now” needs line breaks, as it’s very confusing halfway through. Also one error early on. You truly must PROOF READ before hitting “save”. This is not a contest at speed, it’s a formal publication. It’s a reflection of Dequan. Lastly, more spacing between each poem. If you can, BOLD each new title.

If you wrote these in MS Word, 99.9% of the misspelled typos would NEVER have occurred. I’m not talking about the (“i”)s, but the “wnats” in “Caged Bird” and one in “Drown”.

Otherwise, truly great efforts!!!

Way to start it off, Juan! Now wasn't that a relatively easy 200 points!

“Come again?” handing the report card to Azumi.

“You turned out awesome without finishing college, making all the monies, with all this.” He lazily swept his arms around, dropping the report card and nearly losing his balance. “Imma do the same. I gots skills!”

“What?”

“You got drafted from Georgetown yo second year, so why should I even botha wit’ hittin’ da books. None dat shit even worth a damn.”

“Hold up…”

“Common, pops, you ain’t opened a book, done no math problem or dealt with any stupid-assed science projects since pickin’ up dat rock.” He tossed the report card on the glass table and grabbed the Nerf basketball.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“All I do know, and you do too, you seen all dose scouts be at nearly every game, with me lightin’ up the lanes, seven triple doubles in the last ten game, ain’t nobody can touch dis,” he said spinning, weaving between imaginary opponents before slamming into Maliki, who’d adroitly maneuvered under the hoop, jamming the ball back onto the unmade king-sized bed. No matter how much Axe or how many sticks of gum, his father was not blind to his bloodshot, dilated eyes and the skunk reeking from Azumi’s hair and clothing.

“Wait,” Maliki said, trying to remain calm. “Just because a few scouts be scoping your skinny ass out you think they gon’ draft you right out of high school and yo moms and I would simply let you go?”

“Dead-ass!” Azumi mimicked juking another invisible player pulling a reverse lay-up. “Da sooner I be rakin in da Benjamins, da rocks, and da tan’, da sooner I can move inna my own spot.”

“Boy, you must be trippin’! Sit yo dumb ass down.”

Azumi hadn’t seen his pops this upset…ever. Eyes bugging, he sat, mouth catching gnats had there been any, the bright green wad of gum nearly falling to the carpeted floor.

“First off, you may have skills, but you are still too young. You have so much more to learn, to grow. You don’t understand the hard work and time necessary to be a pro. You have no idea of all the difficulties, the sacrifices, the pressure I had starting out. For the first two years I didn’t get as much playing time because the coach hadn’t agreed with my acquisition. He refused to play me as often as the owner wished. There were problems between some of the older players, too. Then the trades. You were too young to remember any of this. You think it’s all glory and getting rings. I got extremely lucky. I was this close to losing it all. These don’t come easy, son,” he finished holding out his Diamond championship ring.

“I know all dat,” Azumi said, not looking forward to that ‘hard-work’ speech he’d gotten often enough. From teachers, counselors and moms.

“No, I don’t think you do,” Mor-Talla exclaimed. “Remember Uncle Rick? If I’d known a bit more about finances and how to manage my own sh*ts, we wouldn’t have lost a friend when he stole millions of dollars from me. Not understanding the science of things and how the markets and investing works has also cost me time and money.”

“So, make another sneaker commercial,” Azumi muttered. “Problem solved.”

“You’re not getting it. It’s not about the money, it’s about relationships. It’s about understanding how the world works a little better before making the wrong moves.”

“Common pops, look around. Whatever screw ups, you done plenty right.”

“Sure, I got lucky. There are millions out there who…”
Oh, sh**, Azumi fumed, turning to take another shot, missing. I shouldn’t have said anything, he thought. Now he’s gonna ramble on about all the LOSERS who didn’t make it to the Show. I’m nothin’ like ‘em.

“…if you get injured before you get drafted or what about knocking up some hoochie mama!”

“Dat ain’t me, ” Azumi was drawn in now, something he promised himself he’d avoid at all costs. Didn’t want to ruin his buzz. “I’m not like ‘em losers. I’m careful….”

“Right, like driving home stoned with friends who are drunk, flying or tweaking their a***s off, too?”

“…and I’m betta ‘n’ you were at my age, even coach says so.”

Even as it was happening, Maliki wished he could’ve stopped himself. Sure the boy needed to be snapped back into reality, and as his hand came down sharply smacking Azumi across the face and again rising one back slap across his mouth. Azumi was more stunned than mad, rubbing the blood from his rapidly swelling lips. What happened next surprised them both, but perhaps the bud mellowed the effects of the blows, because Azumi started laughing. At first it was a shocked gasp of air escaping from his throat that sounded so much like a gag one emits when trying to hold that hit a little too long, and that only triggered Azumi’s recent memories and this developed into a full-blown laugh.

“Son,” his father began after a minute of watching the laugh recede. Then, grabbing Azumi’s shoulder and lightly shaking him, “I’m so…”

“Don’t,” he pulled away, suddenly silent, sullen, “…sorry me.”

But Maliki wasn’t having it, “…disappointed. I’m so disappointed.”

“So am I,” Azumi yelled.

“Son, you walk into my house stoned off your a**,” he struck him again, this time blood began running from his son’s nose. Then grabbing him before he could retreat, he turned him to face him. This time, Azumi pushed off but his father, at 6’7”, outweighed him a good 100 pounds and more than two decades of street and pro ball took hold. Maliki brought his arms under the teenager’s, grabbing his throat in his left and lifting him a foot off the floor and slamming him into shelves of unread books, just under the hoop Azumi had just been rejected at. The force sent the bookshelves tumbling, the mangled plastic hoop rolling down Maliki’s muscular back as blood and books, trickled down between Maliki’s arms hitting Azumi’s kicking suspended legs.

“You have the f***in’ balls to laugh at this report card,” he spat into Azumi’s face. “Actin’ a fool, too stupid to use the brains God gave you, spouting all this s**t that you’re some gifted invincible Super Star who’s careful and doesn’t need an education! What the f&^% did you expect?”

“Dad!”

It was Tadenikawo, standing frozen near the overflowing hamper in the doorway.

Suddenly he realized he’d been shaking Azumi in his rage, though Azumi had struck him several times, Maliki hadn’t registered until Taden’s piercing yelps broke through.

Felicia was running past Taden, suddenly yanking her husband off her son, Azumi collapsing into her arms and to the floor.

“What the hell did you do?” Felicia cried, slipping on the overturned trashcan, discarded clothing and books. “Azumi, can you hear me? Azumi, it’s mommy, wake up, honey. Azumi, wake up!”

End of Part 1

Maliki’s Heat
by Lanier Carson

Felicia rustled the red silk sheets, blinking into the jagged rays of early morning stabbing into the room where Maliki had forgotten to close the drapes completely. For him, it wasn’t a problem. The sun was not waking him up just now. But it gave her a moment to reflect.
“You are my light,” she whispered in a croaky first-words-of-the-day voice. She smiled, crookedly, rolling out of the warming rays and the slick sheets drew tight around her voluptuous body. A cocoon. She felt safe.

Hours later, she awoke again, only to find Maliki gone, the shades closed and a note taped to her night lamp.

“Practice till 2.”

That meant the game wasn’t until five, she and the kids should be ready before three to meet him for a late lunch at the pool.
She was glad that these last two games, if necessary were here in Miami, which meant a more relaxing schedule than the last few weeks back and forth to California and that one jaunt to New York. Not for the Regional Championship Series. No, that time it’d been to witness his 10, 000th points, on his way to his third straight MVP award and the fiercely contested Game Seven of the series. The Knicks were BACK, but they couldn’t outlast Maliki’s Heat.
All the Heat had to do was win tonight, and Maliki would have his seventh ring in nine years, another record of sorts. At 31, Maliki was the first player to earn that many National Championships in one decade.


Felicia walked over to the floor-to-ceiling bay windows, reveling in the magnificent view of Biscayne Bay of their South Miami estate. Of all their properties, this was her favorite.

Yet, something was missing.

Opening the French doors and walking barefoot under the latticed portico, she sipped her cappuccino. A strong ocean breeze brought that fresh smell of saltwater around her like the silk sheets from a few minutes ago. Her soft black feet left temporary imprints on the NBA motif titles with large carving S, with NBA basketballs in each curve of the upper and lower Ss. The Olympic-sized pool in the shape of a hoop completed the basketball motif. Another acre down the sloping landscape the sunlight danced between the small rippling waves and she could clearly see dark shimmering clouds beneath the undulating emerald green ocean. These schools of fish darted to and fro and Felicia wished she could be with them, just there, beyond the edge of their manicured lawn, with its gazebo and two large 5-people tents where the boys had been camping out for the last few weekends.

“I’ll have to get them to move those today,” she muttered to herself, drinking her cappuccino, looking down at the short durable zoysia grass, missing the longer, more lush blue grass from her childhood Northeast home in Rhode Island.

“Ma, what’s for lunch,” Azumi called, breaking Felicia from her reverie. That was her eldest. Twelve going on 35, and always hunger. He was already taller than her and thin as a rail, which made it even more miraculous where he could possibly be putting all that food.

“Are there any hot dogs,” Tadenikawo followed close behind. Ten and nearly the complete opposite of Azumi and Maliki. Taden, was all hers, she thought. Not only was he more physically like her, thinner, shorter and with lighter skin and those same almond-shaped eyes, making him look a bit Occidental, he had that knack for picking up on peoples’ true emotions and reading them better than most adults. Because of this, Tadenikawo was also more inquisitive, asking and searching for more answers very much like Felicia. Not that Azumi wasn’t quick, his deep intense eyes took in things, and he simply didn’t empathize or perhaps didn’t care as much about others. Also like his father, Azumi’s full shock of kinky hair, rich dark chocolate eyes and even darker skin. No matter what Maliki and Felicia had done to try to create a more aware young pre-teen, Azumi was his own person. They had come to accept that, and in that, Azumi was a carbon copy of his father. Felicia had come to cope with that, retreating into the age-old parental adage, “pick your battles”. So, she would wait for a tougher clash that would be far more important, more potentially detrimental to his over all character or well being and dig firmly in when the time came for the resolve that would be necessary for that inevitable “battle”.

“You know good and well, there aren’t any, nor will there ever be any HOT DOGS in this house,” she rubbed his cheek, planting a kiss on his other cheek.

“Awwww,” Tadenikawo moaned, wiping the kiss from his face. “Kevin’s mom lets them have them.”

She hugged Azumi, reaching the plates above him, after putting her cup on the counter. She pinched his cheek and kissed his forehead.

“Before lunch, move those tents to another spot so they don’t kill the grass,” she said, turning on the stove and pulling things out of the refrigerator.

“But we can’t wait that long,” Taden called.

“Look,” Felicia nodded toward the Zojirushi pressure cooker, “what does that timer say?”

“Ten minutes and thirty-one seconds….thirty….twenty-nine…..,” Tadenikawo counted.

“That’s when the rice is done, and that’s when your lunch will be ready.”

Tadenikawo gave her that puppy-dog big-eye look, lower lip pouting mournfully. She smiled.

“OK, mom,” Azumi took charge, grabbing his little brother and running out to move the tents

In spite of herself and all of this, something was missing.


______________________________________________________________
That night it was all Maliki, especially since the Heat had won the sixth game, winning another Championship Title, and she and the kids knew this. They had become old pros at being window dressing for the Star Attraction. This was what Malia and Sasha and every other presidential child must feel like. After all, living with Maliki Babasola Mamoon, was even more impressive than being the president of the free world, for more people loved their dad than would ever love any president. More people cheered for him more nights of the year and they appreciated what he did; entertained while slamming home that rock, spinning, twisting and faking out opponents to deliver another 2-point goal, or the occasional the “and-one” follow-through Free Throws. The Show of shows! And no one delivered better than Maliki.
So here they were now, cute adornments to the star of the Miami Heat, being held high like the trophy just earned, being kissed for show, in the glow and flashes of the cameras, bright sunshiny smiles, truly happy for their father and all his success.
She stayed not too far off, ready to scoop them up and out of the photo-ops and back to the safety of secured grounds, acres and acres of land and a staff ready to help better than any 5-Star hotel.
________________________________________________________________

Three Years Later….
“Azumi, what’s this about,” he asked, holding up his eldest’s mid-year report card.

The teen’s room was larger than most basketball courts, complete with its own teak inlaid Study desk, and matching four padded plush leather and teak chairs. Underwear, sweaty jerseys and a life-sized Nerf basketball lay in one of these. The table’s glass table top was covered with a few Chemistry, Math, Global and English books, mostly still looked brand new and rarely opened. Plenty of black, red and gold Mardi Gras beads, from their last Fat Tuesday Zulu Parade in New Orleans hung from the corner of his vanity dresser mirror, nails in the walls, the Panasonic 103-inch Plasma with its LCD wide screen projector ensconced in the ceiling, and some necklaces were hanging from doorknobs to his bathroom.

Posters of Carmelo Anthony, Dwyane Wade and, of course his dad, adorned the other walls. Johanny and Mery, two up-and-coming models, had replaced Shaq who, according to his dad, was a beast before he’d become the coach of the Heat. It was hard to imagine such a big beefy man on the courts, but there were hours and hours of HD digitals to prove it. Of course the Big Man had put on a dozen or so pounds after retiring, one could easily see. What had pleased Maliki more, perhaps, than his own stills floating above the others, gliding to lay it in, were that some of the fading posters had been replaced by Jessica White, Daniella Sarahyba, Lauren London, Jessica Alba, Gabriella Union and two newer girls, Tierra and Britteny, who were both bottom heavy, though Tierra’s hourglass figure was something to behold, while Britteny remained wanting north of the border.

Along another wall was a full-sized plastic, “break-away” hoop high above three bookshelves with dozens of children’s books from the complete Nelson Mandela “Favorite African Folktales” Series, The Bluford Series, Sharon G. Flake, Sharon M. Draper and Walter Dean Myers’ complete works, to Steven M. Wise’s Though the Heavens May Fall, Richard Attenborough, Richard Wright, Langston Hughes’s complete collections of Simple Sings the Blues Series, Maya Angelou’s autobiographical series, dozens from Nikki Giovanni, Terry McMillan and Toni Morrison to Miriam Makeba’s autobiography, everything Chinua Achebe ever wrote, including his essays and film work. To be honest, Felicia had transferred a few of these directly from her personal library in the hope that her eldest would be inspired to crack some of the more serious ones open and read them on his own. In time, she believed, and with a little prodding, he’d become interested in the histories and stories beyond those read to him as a toddler or in middle school.

“Pops, Imma be just like you,” Azumi called casually, chewing the biggest wad of gum, reaching into the mini Electrolux three-shelf refrigerator similar but one-third the size of the one in the kitchen two floors below. His was stocked full of Energy bars, electrolyte-charged drinks and frozen treats in the bottom freezer compartment, hiding smaller bottles of Gran Patrón Burdeos and Chopin among other gear.

“What does that have to do with school?” Maliki snapped, ready to get in his face.

“Absolutely nuthin’,” he said, grabbing a sugarless power water drink and downing it. Throwing it in a perfect arc the plastic bottle noiselessly netted in the hoop and rattled to the trashcan directly below. “Dat’s da point, pops.”

Naja, very insightful! You are the first one to discuss as you put it, “the turning point” of Amir’s budding relationship with Sohrab. Not only was it one of the most moving scenes in the novel, it presented yet another time Amir let someone down, though ironically it was while he thought he was truly helping him, doing the best he could; doing the right thing!

Daniel, well done. I’m glad the movie worked for you as far as giving, “a good image of the quote, "There is a way to be good again" when Amir comes back to his country in order to save Hassan's son and pay for his sins.”

Alan, a bit more. There is a the man they “set-up” to appear like a bigger fish terrorist whose body is found days after Ferris fails to protect him, though, in the book, nothing happened to him because the Jordanian head guy (the one working closely with Ferris), saved him. He understood, at least in the book, that Hoffman and Ferris were running counter-plots to draw the real terrorist leader out.

I thought Alice was going to be involved, especially when Ferris joins her to that remote place where other “bad guys” live, and she’s friends with them. She’s perhaps the biggest alteration from the novel to the movie. I love both versions of his “love interest” though I like the movie depiction better especially when, in the book you come to find out Ferris’s true identity.
Good job, Alan. This was NOT an easy novel, nor movie, so I’m glad you attempted it.

Winnie, I would have preferred more analysis of Brotherly Love, Betrayal and Redemption because, exactly like Amir’s betrayal of his younger brother there are similar “betrayals” one of which you touch upon. Although, Salim helping to save Latika was definitely an example of brotherly love since he was only there to support Jamal. However, WHO gets ATONED for their SINS in “Slumdog”? This would have been something that would’ve earned you far more points. Still, great specific illustrations of how Jamal claimed to know the answers, though it’s borderline “SUMMARY” as opposed to critical analysis.


Happy you 23 scholars took advantage of these EC points and read a good movie or two!

Xuran amazing, unique perspective. Spoken like a true filmmaker, covering all the logistic, actor, budget questions. The movie was actually filmed in Kashkar, China, Khalid Abdalla, who played Amir as an adult, is actually a British actor. Please, watch the Special Features of the DVD or Google the movie, to get more accurate information. It is true, Abdalla didn't know ANY Persian before filming the movie, so it's an amazing feat that he learned and appeared to speak it well in the movie, though we'd have to ask scholars who KNOW this language to truly see.

Sade, well done, as well. Great responses to the movie. True, the blood in the snow is stolen from Elie Wiesel's autobiogrpahy, "Night", which you'll read next year. There are a few other scenes, such as the one inside the tanker that are extremely similar to "Night". Not sure if these are actually, "stolen" or if as artists we imitate subconsciously from the best in our fields. As they say, "imitation is the sincerest form of flattery".

Zumana, you have some very insightful comments, suggested changes and opinions. Though I disagree with you about making it in English with accents. I understand how it would draw more people in to its dramatic twists. I do believe that's one of the drawbacks making films with American audiences in mind, they will be more reluctant to go to one where they have to read. However, with popular shows like "Heoroes" and the emergence of more Independent movie studios, more subtitles will be introduced into more visual representations of books, TV shows and other traditionally non-textual art forms. One of the reasons I wanted you all to write and present a "Family Story" complete with local color was to show the audience how much richer a story is WITH your languages, sensory imageries and personal touches. Some people brought in food and others wore Mexican cowboy hats. Can you imagine a Bengali movie with all American actors, painted with darker make-up, who learned to accent their dialogue? This is exactly how Hollywood used to be. If there was a movie about Mexican cowboys, Native Americans, or Chinese they wouldn't find and hire native speakers, they would get white American actors to play those roles, dab on extra dark make-up and "fake it". Foster was looking for as much authenticity as possible, even though Amir (adult) is a British actor, his roots are from Egypt, while others are from Iran (Baba) the boys-for sure young Amir, young Hassan and young Assef- were all Afghans, I believe.

Perhaps because you were distracted reading, you missed the fact that Baba DID drive his bright new blue Ford Mustang through Kabul, or that Soraya had told Amir about her past. Unless you're referring to having this FILMED more as I agree with you about the Taliban killing Hassan and Farzana, as I think that would've been a great traumatic visualization, although I love the way Foster filmed that market scene when Amir was reading the letter, especially that aerial view. I would have loved to see Ali, Hassan and family with Rahim Khan before Ali dies and they moved back into the Kabul house. baby Sohrab with grandmother also would've been touching, illustrating this special bond and giving this minor character a face once and for all. Lastly, more cultural juxtapositions of Buskashi vs. Stonings in the field would have shone how far the country had deteriorated. They show it with the tree cut down, and the man selling his prosthetic leg in the run-down streets, and the fact that there were no more kites flying, but filming a Bushkashi match would've been timely, costly yet was something UNIQUELY Afghan.

You and others are correct, though, these alterations would have made the movie too long, again, according to American audiences. Yet, "Avatar", with its subtitles and its nearly 3-hours of Special Effects, not to mention "The Lord of the Rings" and other mammoth movie syndicates, it just goes to show you, Americans will read and sit for hours if the movie is packaged in just the right ways.

Regardless, excellent comments and opinions.
Well Done, all of you!!!

Aside from too many unnecessary typos, very well done. Afsana, where exactly is Kabul, Pakistan? what is an Afgan?? Please EDIT this for full credit. Sloppy work defeats the purpose of publishing and diminishes the overall quality of the work. I love your unique perspective of LANGUAGES. This is something I have never heard before. Also, the attempted rape by the Russian was something that was as subtle as what happened to Kamal's mother, the boy before he starved to death in the tanker truck? I tell you, Hosseini's RAPE motif was apparent only after my second or third reading.....Some are obvious, while others were more subtle and implied (Russian, Kamal and his mother)rather than explicit (Hassan and Sohrab).

Kinga, you and Afsana mention this major change or difference in the endings? What are you talking about. Amir says, "For you a thousand times", then he runs, just as the last line was "I ran." What major changes in the ending are you two referring to exactly?
Lastly, Kinga, you put "defeated the point of him loving Hitler", do you mean, "depicted or illustrated the point of him loving Hitler." Or "....depicted Assef's motivation through his connection to Hitler"?

Georgia, Alejandra and Ka Min, well done! Some great unique perspectives discussed.

Christian, great attempt to incorporate all three movies viewed, however try attacking each movie separately or treating it like an ESSAY, 1 Body P = Slumdog, 2nd Body P = The Color Purple etc. USE TRANSITION sentences when jumping from one movie to the next. A bit more work, but worth those extra 120 points, wouldn't you say??

Also, discuss how the COMMON themes of Sisterly/Brotherly Love work, BETRAYAL, REDEMPTION, after all, I picked these novels and movies specifically because they have THEMATIC SIMILARITIES. OR, address how books were different from the movie and WHY directors choose to make these changes??

Simply click EDIT, and attack these from any of these POVs for up to 120 points extra!!! You've already done the GROUND WORK, "reading" these movies, now follow-through with more concise, critical analysis.

Saymon, what movie are you talking about?

Mariana, still not putting too much into your writing. That's too bad. We all know you have so much to say, you're brilliance is hidden beneath short simple answers. If you can honestly say that you've put 100% into every assignment, than disregard this message. Otherwise, the goal is to be getting BETTER, not striving for the status quo. Mediocrity is great for many, you should NOT settle for "average" work.

Anicaha, I tend to agree with you on Precious, though I also loved it for its Comic Relief through her daydreaming sequences. In the book, it's all so dark and bleak, where we see slivers of her imagining herself as a Superstar. In the movie, it was great to see that transformation more VISUALLY, more dramatically. In the movie Mo'Nique stole the show, so I can fully understand what you're saying about her perspective ("prosective"????). I loved the movie, but I also liked the ending of the book better, since if you liked perspectives so much, I'm surprised you missed the last 20 pages of multiple perspectives, which MADE "PUSH" awesome. Still, over all, the movie had its incredible acting, visualizations and was well adapted from the novel. I just wish they spent seven more minutes with the BOOK's ending in "Precious" so we could hear and maybe even see those six or seven other voices from her Reach One Teach One school.

I disagree with you Slumdog, aside from the first 20 pages we never see or hear from Ram's "orphan" brother. The movie and the book are completely different stories. The movie is more connected to the themes discussed in "Kite" which is why I recommended it over the novel. Like "Push" and "Precious", the novel "Q & A" was much DARKER than its adapted movie, "Slumdog". The protagonist, Ram aka Jamal in the movie, had actually "killed" people and he wasn't nearly as innocent as his movie counterpart, Jamal. I think you need to re-read the novel and the movie to better understand that they were completely different stories. The movie would be better to look at from BETRAYAL, REDEMPTION, LOSS/RETURN to FAITH, BROTHERLY LOVE and other themes within "Kite".

Sayda, great correlations between "Twilight" the book vs. the movie as examples of being able to better understand text through visualization. More of you are visual learners so a trick to reading further is to make chapters into SCENES in your mind. Perhaps draw a picture in your DEJ that helps you better SEE what's actually happening in any story.

Sapphire, Daineen, Victoria and Mariela, some of your comments are extremely superficial or surprising similar to others'. Be careful to respond to these AFTER READING THE ENTIRE NOVEL and seeing the ENTIRE movie. Some slept, talked or left 20 minutes before the movie ended, and this after sleeping or talking through 75% of the rest of the other parts. It's extremely hard to write about things you have NOT seen or read thoroughly. Be aware of PLAGIARISM, as the movie had about 35 changes or omissions that you may like to focus upon AFTER watching the entire movie and FINISHING the book. This goes for answering the "Tragic", "Redemption" and "Alternate Endings 2010" GROUPS. The reason I didn't have an essay or project for this book, is because upon finishing it, these GROUPS = 130 points = ESSAY grade. So please follow instructions and EARN the most points possible.

Julio, superb job!! Well articulated and excellent comparison to both novels, as the assignment asked. Wilson and Robert: INC. Please read the instructions and answer the second question like Julio, Naja, Charnell, and Winifer above you???

Assignment #2 Due Feb. 11 (Thursday) = 40 points

Could it said that there was a modern-day TRAGIC HERO in Hosseini's "The Kite Runner"? Who would it be and why?

Compare whether whomever you’re discussing is more a Tragic Hero than Okonkwo, from Chinua Achebe’s "Things Fall Apart".

2010 scholars:
RESPOND in "REDEMPTION AND CATHARSIS...." or "TRAGIC HERO" groups NOT HERE.

FOLLOW DIRECTIONS given in CLASS

DO NOT RESPOND HERE this was for my 2008-9 scholars.