Lit Fam Final

Selection From Maus By Spiegelman (1986)

Art comes over for another session with his father. He finds Mala crying on the kitchen counter, miserable about his father. She complains that Vladek gives her an allowance of only $50.00 a month, and Art tells her about how stingy his father was in his own childhood. Vladek comes in, and Art shows them some sketches of the book he's writing. Both Vladek and Mala are pleased with the way the comic is looking. Vladek and Art go out into the backyard, where Vladek takes up the story again in 1944. They go back to Sosnowiec to Richieu's governess, who had always offered to help them. But when the governess sees them, she shoos them away. They then go to Anja's old home, where the janitor agrees to hide them. Vladek goes out to look for some food, where another Jew tips him off to the black market, where he can get some food for himself and Anja. On the advice of other Jews, Vladek and Anja goes to hide on a farm belonging to a Polish woman, Mrs. Kawka. Vladek goes into town on the train, and in order to blend in, he always sits in the German car, figuring that no one would suspect a Jew would sit in a German car. He meets another Polish woman, Mrs. Motonowa, who often sells him goods on the black market, and she agrees to take him and Anja into her home. Things are going well with Mrs. Motonowa, but then Mrs. Motonowa is in town and gets searched by the Gestapo. In a panic, she throws out Vladek and Anja. They go back into town, and spend the night hiding in a pit at a construction site. They then go back to Mrs. Kawka's barn. Mrs. Kawka tells them that she knows of some smugglers who take Jews to Hungary, where the situation is much better. Later, Vladek sees Mrs. Motonowa again on the street, and she welcomes him and Anja back into their home. But her husband, who doesn't know she's hiding them, returns home on a vacation from his work, and Vladek and Anja have to hide in the cellar. When the husband leaves, Vladek and Anja are able to emerge. Vladek has another scare in town when a bunch of boys taunt him for being a Jew. But he gets out of the situation by saying "Heil Hitler" and speaking German. Vladek goes to Mrs. Kawka to meet the smugglers, and there he sees Abraham and his family, who are also interested in getting to Hungary. They finally agree that if Abraham sends them a note from the border, they'll know that it's okay to trust the smugglers. Anja and Mrs. Motonowa are deeply suspicious, but Vladek is hopeful. He even visits his cousin Miloch, who is hiding in his former janitor's rubbish pit, and invites him to be smuggled out as well. Miloch is suspicious, and decides to stay at the rubbish pit. Vladek directs Miloch to stay with Mrs. Motonowa once he and Anja leave with the smugglers. Vladek and Anja meet up with the smugglers at a train station in Katowice. They grow suspicious when one of the smugglers disappears to make a phone call, but get on the train anyway. Just an hour later, in Bielsko-Biala, where Vladek had his former factory, they are caught by the Germans, who have been tipped off by the smugglers. They are taken to prison, and then to Auschwitz. At the camp, Vladek and Anja were separated, as the men and women were separated into different sections. Back to present day, Art asks Vladek about searching for Anja's notebooks. Vladek finally confesses that he has destroyed Anja's notebooks. Art is furious.

The Fish by Bishop (1946)

The speaker catches a huge fish while fishing in a little rented boat. She studies her catch for a while as, holding it up half out of water beside the boat. The fish is pretty old and gnarly-looking, with barnacles and algae growing on it, and it also has five fishing hooks with the lines still partially attached hanging from its jaw. The speaker considered how tough this fish must be and how much he probably had to fight. She begins to respect the fish. The poem takes its final turn when the oil spillage in the boat makes a rainbow and the speaker, overcome with emotion by the fish and the scene, lets the fish go.

Babylon Revisited By Fitzgerald (1931)

"Babylon Revisited" begins with Charlie Wales, an American expatriate who has returned in 1930 to Paris, the site of much drinking and partying on his part during the 1920s. Since the stock market crash of 1929, Charlie has sobered up and now looks with a combination of amazement and disgust at the extravagant lifestyle he lived. Charlie's first visit in Paris is to the Ritz bar he used to frequent in his wild days. He asks after many of his former party-friends but finds that Paris is largely empty compared to several years earlier. He leaves an address with the barman to give to friend named Duncan Schaeffer. Since Charlie hasn't settled on a hotel yet, he leaves the address of his brother-in-law's house. He then wanders through Paris and sees all the hotspots he used to frequent during the extravagant days of the twenties. Everything looks different to him now that he's sober and doesn't have the money he used to. As the story progresses, we learn that Charlie is back in town to try to regain custody of his daughter Honoria, who is currently staying with his sister-in-law and her husband. Charlie's deceased wife Helen died a little over a year ago from heart trouble. At the time, Charlie was in a sanatorium having suffered a collapse. Though we don't get all the details, we see that Charlie was, perhaps among other things, recovering from alcoholism. Now he only has one drink per day, so that the idea of alcohol doesn't get too big in his mind. We learn that Charlie has a pretty bad relationship with his sister-in-law, Marion Peters, who blames him for her sister Helen's death. She is resistant to the idea of allowing him to take Honoria home with him, but Charlie eventually wins her over with his patience and insistence that he is reformed. They make plans for him to leave shortly with Honoria. Meanwhile, two of Charlie's old party friends, Duncan Schaeffer and Lorraine Quarrles, who are still living the drunken lifestyle, have been trying to get him to go out drinking with them. Charlie resists, as he's left behind the wild days of running around Paris drunk. On the night when Charlie is at the Peters' finalizing plans to take Honoria home, Lorraine and Duncan show up, drunk, begging him to come out with them. Marion sees that Charlie is still associating with the party crowd, and so she goes back on her offer to let him take his daughter back. Charlie is baffled as to how Duncan and Lorraine found him, and either doesn't remember or refuses to acknowledge that he left the Peters' address for Duncan at the Ritz bar. Charlie leaves the Peters' house and returns to the Ritz bar, where he has his one drink for the day and refuses to have a second one. He plans to try and get Honoria back again, perhaps six months from now when Marion has calmed down. He wonders how long he'll have to pay for the destructive lifestyle he used to live.

Barn Burning By Faulkner (1938)

"Barn Burning" (set in about 1895) opens in a country store, which is doubling as a Justice of the Peace Court. A hungry boy named Sarty craves the meat and cheese in the store. He's afraid. His father, Abner Snopes, is in court, accused of burning down Mr. Harris's barn. Sarty is called up to testify against his father, and he knows he's going to have to lie and say his father didn't burn the barn. The Justice and Mr. Harris realize they are putting the young boy in a bad position, and they let him off the hook. The Judge tells Mr. Snopes to leave the county and never come back. On the way out of the courthouse a kid calls Sarty "Barn Burner!" and knocks him down, twice (16). Sarty tries to chase the kid but his father stops him. Sarty, his older brother, and his father get into the family wagon, where his mother, aunt, and two sisters are waiting. The wagon is already loaded with their broken possessions. That night, the family camps. After Sarty falls asleep, his father wakes him up and tells Sarty to follow him. Sarty does. His father accuses him of being on the verge of betraying him in court. He hits Sarty. Then he tells him that the most important thing is to stand by your family. The next day the Snopes arrive at their new home, a shack on the farm where they will be working as tenant farmers. Abner wants to talk to the owner and he takes Sarty with him. When Sarty sees the owner's fancy, white mansion he feels like everything just might be all right after all. He thinks his father can't possibly hurt people who live in a house like that. In the yard, Abner deliberately steps in some fresh horse poop, forces his way into the mansion, and tracks the poop all over the white rug in the front room. Later that day, the owner of the rug and mansion, Mr. de Spain, has the rug dropped off at Abner's shack. Abner sets his two daughters to cleaning it, and then dries it in front of the fire. Early the next morning, Abner wakes Sarty and the two of them return the rug to de Spain. De Spain shows up shortly after, insulting Abner and complaining that the rug is "ruined" (62). He tells Abner he's going to charge him twenty extra bushels of corn to pay for the hundred-dollar rug. When he leaves, Sarty tells Abner that they shouldn't give de Spain any corn at all. After working hard all week, Sarty goes with his family to town that Saturday. He goes with his father into a store, and sees that a Justice of the Peace Court is in session. De Spain is there. Sarty doesn't realize that Abner is suing de Spain to have the fee of twenty bushels reduced. Sarty blurts out that his father isn't guilty of burning any barns. Abner sends him back to the wagon, but he stays in the store to see what happens. The Justice decides that Abner is responsible for the damage to the rug, but he reduces the fee to ten bushels. Sarty, his father, and his brother spend some time in town and don't go home until the sun has almost set. After dinner Sarty hears his mother trying to stop his father from doing something. He realizes his father is planning to burn the de Spain barn. His father and brother realize that Sarty is planning on alerting de Spain, and they leave him behind, held tight in his mother's arms. Sarty breaks free and runs to the de Spain house. He's only able to say "Barn!" a few times, and then he's on the run again. De Spain is right behind him, about to run him over. Sarty jumps into a ditch and then returns to the road. He hears three gunshots and soon after, behind him, sees the red glow of the de Spain barn on fire. At midnight Sarty is on top of a hill. He's come a long way. Everything is behind him. He mourns the loss of his father (who he seems to assume is dead), but is no longer afraid. He falls asleep and feels better when he wakes up. The whippoorwills (birds) are singing and it's almost morning. He starts walking toward the woods in front of him. He doesn't turn around.

Flowering Judas By Porter (1929)

"Flowering Judas" is a short story by American author Katherine Anne Porter, first published in 1930 in the collection Flowering Judas and Other Stories. Supposedly written by Porter in a single evening in December 1929, it is the story of Laura, an alienated young American woman who travels to Mexico where she is courted by Braggioni, a corrupt but charismatic leader in the Mexican revolution. The two of them have vastly different worldviews—Laura's traditional background clashing with Braggioni's fiery socialism. Laura becomes increasingly isolated and faces a crisis of faith. The story focuses heavily on Christian themes and symbolism, as the characters in the story are seen to reflect versions of iconic Christian figures. It also explores themes of idealism, class struggle, and revolution. "Flowering Judas" is considered one of the best examples of the American short story; its complex symbolism has allowed it to endure and be studied and analyzed today. One of Porter's most enduring works, it won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction as part of Porter's larger anthology The Collected Stories in 1966. "Flowering Judas" begins as Laura, a young American woman, arrives in Mexico City in the aftermath of the Mexican Revolution, looking to work for the revolutionary cause in support of the socialists. A schoolteacher, she meets with the local revolutionary leader, Braggioni, and his workers. Braggioni is intrigued by Laura, whom he finds beautiful but cold; he pays nightly visits to her, seeking to seduce her. In the opening scene, Braggioni is paying one of his visits to Laura's room and is singing Mexican folk songs to her. Laura is tired, but she makes an effort to be polite to Braggioni, not wanting to offend the powerful and ruthless man. Braggioni is not a good singer, and his attempts at banter make Laura think about her next move. She knows that Braggioni would like to seduce her, and reminds herself to resist tenaciously without appearing to resist. Although she finds him gross and corrupt, Braggioni is a local hero despite being a hypocrite when it comes to the ideals of socialism. She wants to flee from him and from the growing cynicism and hypocrisy of the revolutionaries, but believes in the cause and sees no other way than to continue on her current path. Braggioni likes to flaunt his elegant clothing and style, comparing his garb to Laura's American clothing. Laura realizes that Braggioni is a deeply unsatisfied man, seeking carnal pleasures because he is spiritually unfulfilled. She wonders if her duties will be satisfying for her, including teaching English to native children, organizing union meetings, and delivering packages to political prisoners. She acknowledges that she herself is not an ideal socialist. While most revolutionaries are atheists, Laura is still a Catholic and sometimes goes to church to pray despite having some issues with Catholic orthodoxy. She also knows she has a secret love of luxury, including handmade lace, while most hardcore revolutionaries favor plain dress. As Braggioni continues to flirt with Laura, she thinks back to the other suitors she's had in Mexico. She rebuffed the seduction attempts of a former soldier from another revolutionary faction, seeing a parallel between this man and the children she teaches, who like to playfully flirt with her. Another suitor is a young union activist who serenades her in the Mexican tradition. Her maid encouraged her to toss him a flower from the Judas tree to stop him from singing, but this was actually a sign of encouragement. He continues to court her, and while she ignores him and maintains her trademark stoicism, this young man does not repel her. Braggioni tells Laura about the battle planned tomorrow in Morelia, where the socialists plan to disrupt a Catholic festival with a labor protest. He predicts violence and asks her to clean and oil his weapons. She obeys, handing him his weapons back. Impulsively, she tells him to go and kill someone in the battle and he will be happier. She tells him that a prisoner, one of Braggioni's followers whom she had visited the previous night, committed suicide by taking an overdose of sleeping pills. Braggioni pretends not to care, but he leaves quickly and goes home to his wife, seeking to reconcile with her. Laura goes to bed filled with oppressive thoughts of guilt and alienation. She falls asleep and has a nightmare that the prisoner who committed suicide is calling her from the house. She says she will only follow him if she can hold his hand, but he refuses and calls her a murderer. Despite her fear, she follows him, and he offers her flowers from the Judas tree to eat. She eats them, and he calls her a murderer and a cannibal. She wakes up crying out, No! She is too afraid to fall asleep again. Katherine Anne Porter was an American author, journalist, essayist, and political activist. She is best known for the popular novel Ship of Fools, published in 1962, but received the most critical acclaim for her short stories. In her life, she published six short story collections and a novel, as well as two nonfiction books; six additional books of her work were published after her death. She received a Pulitzer Prize, a National Book Award, a Gold Medal Award for Fiction from the American Academy of Arts and Letters, and three nominations for the Nobel Prize in literature. A Recorded Texas Historic Landmark was placed in Brown County, Texas to honor her life and work.

In the Waiting Room by Bishop (1976)

"In the Waiting Room" begins with the speaker, Elizabeth, sitting in the waiting room at the dentist's office on a dark winter afternoon in Massachusetts. While she waits for her aunt, who is seeing the dentist, Elizabeth looks around and sees that the room is filled with adults. To keep herself occupied, she reads a copy of National Geographic magazine. She looks at pictures of volcanoes, famous explorers, and people very different from herself (including naked black women), and is scared by what she reads and sees. Suddenly, she hears a cry of pain from her aunt in the dentist's office, and says that she realizes that "it was me" - that the cry was coming from her aunt, but also from herself. She imagines that she and her aunt are the same person, and that they are falling. In an attempt to calm down, Elizabeth says to herself that she is just about to turn seven years old. She compares herself to the adults in the waiting room, and wonders if she is one of "them." She seems to realize that she is, and looking around, says that "nothing / stranger could ever happen." Elizabeth then questions her basic humanity, and asks about the similarities between herself and others. What are the similarities between herself and her aunt? Between herself and the naked women in the magazine? How did she get where she is? What kind of connections does she have with the rest of the world? Elizabeth is overwhelmed. The waiting room is bright and hot, and she feels like she's sliding beneath a black wave. Finally, she snaps out of it. She remembers that World War I is still going on, that she's still in Massachusetts, and that it's still a cold and slushy night in February, 1918.

Lullaby by Silko (1981)

"Lullaby" is a love poem spoken to someone who's sleeping. Romantic or Creepy? You be the judge. The speaker begins by telling his lover to lay his head on the speaker's arm. He then takes a minute to think about the fact that beauty can't last forever because death comes for us all in the end. Hmmm, depressing. He concludes that even his lover isn't perfect, but it doesn't matter: he's "entirely beautiful" anyway. Then the speaker gets a little pensive; he starts to think about a bunch of random things, like Venus (the Roman goddess of love), a hermit who has an ecstatic experience, and madmen who bemoan the future. But despite all these (usually negative) wandering thoughts, he doesn't want to forget anything that has happened on this beautiful night with his lover. The speaker says one more time that everything dies eventually (we get the point, Mr. Depressing), but then he begins to speak directly to his sleeping beloved. He prays (in the least religious way possible) that his beloved will experience life and "find the mortal world enough." Basically, he hopes his lover won't go looking too far for the answers to life's big questions. At the end of the poem, he says that the man is "watched by every human love." It's not God who looks after his sleeping beloved; it's the speaker himself.

Pawn Shop by Alexie (1992)

"Pawn Shop" compares the Indians to second-hand goods. The speaker goes to a bar and realizes that all of the Indians are nowhere to be found. First, he searches storefronts, streets, and other public venues but fails to find them. It is not until he goes into a pawnshop that he finds a heart (symbolizing Indian spirit), hiding under a glass. Using these details, the story demonstrates how Indian culture seems insignificant when compared to modern culture and society.

The Man Who Was Almost A Man By Wright (1961)

After yet another long day of working in Mr. Hawkins's field, teased by his coworkers and treated like a kid, Dave is desperate to prove his manhood. And how exactly does he plan to do that? By buying a gun, duh. He'll have to ask his mom for money, of course, but don't pay that fact any mind. He stops by Joe's store on his way home to check out the merchandise. Joe gives Dave a gun catalog to bring home, but also offers him a cheap old gun for a mere two dollars. And that's right in Dave's price range. Dave convinces his mom to give him the two dollars, with the caveat that he brings the gun right home and gives it to Daddy Saunders. Dave does no such thing. He rushes to Joe's store and buys the gun, staying out late so his mom won't take it from him. Alrighty then. The next morning, he heads into work early, eager to pop a few caps before he starts his day. Unfortunately, though, Hawkins is already there and asks Dave to plow the field with Jenny the mule. Once Dave gets out of earshot, he loads the gun and gets ready to fire into the forest—bam. Suddenly, Jenny collapses; she's been hit. In a panic, Dave buries the gun and comes up with a quick, quite unbelievable cover story. Hawkins doesn't buy it, though, instead telling Dave that he owes fifty dollars for Jenny. That'll take Dave over two years to earn. Annoyed by this mistreatment, Dave digs up the gun but doesn't return home. He takes a few more shots, his aim steadier this time, before hitching a ride on a train and leaving home for good.

A Rose For Emily By Faulkner (1931)

Psst: before you start, you might want to look at our discussion of the story's setting. The town functions almost as a character—it's traditions, societal mores, history, and prejudices inform a whole lot that happens to Miss Emily (and the people she interacts with). Also keep in mind that the narrator of this story represents several generations of men and women from the town. Yeah—we know it's complicated...but hey: welcome to the wild world of reading Faulkner. Okay: without further ado: The story begins at the huge funeral for Miss Emily Grierson. Nobody has been to her house in ten years, except for her servant, so everyone's pretty thrilled to get a peek inside. Miss Emily's house is old, but was at one point the best house around. The town had a special relationship with Miss Emily ever since it decided to stop billing her for taxes in 1894. But, the "newer generation" wasn't happy with this arrangement, and so they paid a visit to Miss Emily and tried to get her to pay the tax debt. She refused to acknowledge that the old arrangement might not work any more, and flatly refused to pay. Massive temporal leap time: thirty years before Emily "vanquishes" the tax office, the townspeople complained about a terrible stink coming from Miss Emily's house. This was about two years after her father died, and a short time after her lover disappeared from her life. The stench was overpowering, but the authorities didn't want to confront Emily about the problem. She was a lady, after all, and to accuse a woman of smelling bad was considered not-so-chivalrous. So they took the gentlemanly way out: they sprinkled lime around the house in the dead of night and the smell was eventually gone. Smaller temporal leap time: everybody felt sorry for Emily when her father died. He left her with the house, but no money...and he had spent his living years scaring away any suitor that might have wanted to marry her. When he died, Emily refused to admit it for three whole days. The town didn't think she was "crazy then," but assumed that she just didn't want to let go of her dad...even though he had been a wildly abusive monster. The story doubles back and tells us that, not too long after her father died, Emily begins dating Homer Barron, a Northerner who was in town on a sidewalk-building project. The town heavily disapproves of the affair and brings Emily's cousins to town to stop the relationship. One day, Emily is seen buying arsenic at the drugstore, and the town thinks that she plans to kill herself. The town thinks that this might actually be for the best: after all, Emily is an unmarried woman over thirty (the horror!) and Homer has been heard saying he's not the marrying type. But then, Emily goes and buys a bunch of men's items—an engraved shaving kit, a suit, a nightshirt—and the townsfolk think that she and Homer are going to get married, after all. Homer leaves town, then the cousins leave town, and then Homer comes back. He's seen entering Miss Emily's house...and then he's never seen again. Emily herself rarely leaves the home after that. In fact, she's never really seen again, except for a period of half a dozen years when she gives painting lessons in her parlor. Her hair turns gray, she gains weight, and she eventually dies in a downstairs bedroom that hasn't seen light in many years. It's massive temporal leap time yet again: the story cycles back to where it began, at her funeral. Tobe, miss Emily's servant, lets in the townswomen and then leaves by the backdoor. He's never seen again. After the funeral, and after Emily is buried, the townspeople go upstairs to break into the room that they know has been closed for forty years. Inside, they find the corpse of Homer Barron, rotting in the bed. On the dust of the pillow next to Homer they find an indentation of a head, and there, in the indentation, a long, gray hair.

My Papa's Waltz by Roethke (1948)

Daddy's had a little too much whiskey, and now he's waltzing around the kitchen with his son. Their waltz is pretty clumsy - the pans are sliding from the shelf, and mom's not too happy about that. The father must be a guy who works with his hands, because his knuckles are rough, and he deals with a lot of dirt. This dance may not be all fun and games for the boy - he keeps scraping his ear on his dad's belt buckle, ouch! And his dad is keeping time, perhaps not so gently, on the boy's head. In the end, the father dances the boy off to bed.

Modernist Poets

Eliot, H.D., and Williams

American Born Chinese by Yang

Even though this book is mainly about Jin, the book actually starts with the story of the Monkey King. The book then switches to Jin's story in the second chapter and, for the third chapter, switches to the story of Danny (Jin's alter-ego). Only after Jin's and Danny's stories do we return to the Monkey King, only to start the same pattern all over again, and repeat it two more times. For the sake of your sanity (and ours), we'll just give you the general gist of each story, one at a time. If you want every twist and turn of the book, go to the "Detailed Chapter-by-Chapter Plot Summary" and have at it. The Monkey King's Story. Okay, so back to the Monkey King. When we first meet him, he's already been the ruler of his kingdom for a long time. He knows his kung-fu and has mastered all the prereqs he needs to become immortal. But the Monkey King wants more. He wants to become a god and hang out with all the other gods and goddesses, only they don't want him because he is, after all, a monkey. So at a party that he's crashed he starts a fight with one of the gods. This leads to his banishment from the heavens and to some serious vigilante justice on his part: he goes around beating up all these gods, goddesses, demons and spirits in order to convince them that he's more than just a monkey. Then he comes across Tze-Yo-Tzuh. Or actually, Tze-Yo-Tzuh seeks him out because everyone's gone and complained to Tze-Yo-Tzuh about the Monkey King. Who is Tze-Yo-Tzuh? Only the creator of all beings and things on Earth, including, of course, the Monkey King. So Tze-Yo-Tzuh checks the Monkey King. He tries to convince the Monkey King to stop his rampage and just be who he's supposed to be—a monkey—but the Monkey King's not down with that and tries to show how powerful he is. Tze-Yo-Tzuh, unimpressed, buries the Monkey King under a pile of rocks, where the Monkey Kings stays for five hundred years. Cut to this monk called Wong Lai-Tsao. He's this simple dude: nothing special, just a really nice guy who's into serving others. He's also a faithful follower of Tze-Yo-Tzuh. Tze-Yo-Tzuh chooses Wong Lai-Tsao for a mission, the first step of which is to collect three disciples for his journey. His first disciple is—you guessed it—the Monkey King, who's still trapped under those rocks. So Wong Lai-Tsao goes to the Monkey King and asks him to free himself from the rocks (Wong Lai-Tsao can't do it since he's just a skinny monk with weak arms) so that he can serve as Wong Lai-Tsao's disciple on the mission. The Monkey King's not having it because he's supposed to be a great sage/deity/ruler: whoever heard of a deity becoming a disciple? But since Wong Lai-Tsao is the Monkey King's last chance at freedom, eventually the Monkey King comes around, breaks free of the rocks, and saves Wong Lai-Tsao from some demons who've been harassing Wong Lai-Tsao during their meeting. From then on, the Monkey King serves as Wong Lai-Tsao's disciple until the end. Jin's Story. Jin starts out his story by telling us how he got to the town he lives in. The gist? His parents, both immigrants, journeyed to America for a better life (his dad became an engineer; his mom, a librarian) and, once they had Jin, decided to move from place to place until they could find him a place where he could become all that he can be. In other words, they moved to a place with a good school system—a.k.a the suburbs. Jin's life up until this point was pretty fun, and full of Chinese American kids just like him (they lived in San Francisco Chinatown at first), but in his new town he can't find anyone like him. Kids are mean, and they bully him and call him names. There is this other Asian student, a Japanese American named Suzy Nakamura, but they stay away from each other because the other kids tease them for being part of an arranged marriage. Anyway, things get a little better once a new Taiwanese kid arrives in town. His name's Wei-Chen Sun, and he looks like a total FOB ("fresh off the boat"). You wouldn't think Jin would want to be friends with Wei-Chen, and he doesn't, but they become friends anyway because Wei-Chen's a really nice guy who has cool toys, like a robot that can change into a robot monkey (think: Taiwanese Transformer). This is all part of his elementary school years, and by the middle of the book things speed up to Jin's life at a new, mostly white, junior high school. Like a lot of boys, Jin has a thing for that unattainable girl—in his case, it's Amelia Harris, a popular, white girl whom he's liked since 7th grade. He tells Wei-Chen about his crush and Wei-Chen finagles things so that—eventually—he helps get Jin and Amelia together. They go out on a date after Wei-Chen covers for Jin (something Wei-Chen's not comfortable doing because he has to lie to Jin's parents). The date goes well and Jin's on cloud nine until this popular white guy with curly blonde hair more or less tells Jin to leave Amelia alone. Which Jin does, much to his own shame. So Jin does something that's way off base: he tries to kiss Suzy Nakamura. What's the big deal? Suzy happens to be Wei-Chen's girlfriend. As expected, Wei-Chen fights with Jin and stops being friends with him. Totally bummed out, Jin dreams of this old lady herbalist from his Chinatown days. She asks him who he would like to become and—dun dun dun—he wakes up, looks in the mirror, and sees that he's now blonde and white. He gives himself a new name: Danny. Danny and Chin-Kee's Story Okay—this is the weird story, but it's super-important because it ties all three stories together at the end. When we first encounter Danny, he's this blonde, white teenager at the same high school as Jin. (We don't know yet that he's actually Jin.) His life is looking up. He's got this thing going with this blonde girl (who looks a lot like Amelia but isn't), and the jocks are starting to pay attention to him in a good way. It looks like he's someone who's just about to fit in with the popular crowd at school. But he also happens to have a cousin named Chin-Kee, who's Chinese. And not just Chinese—he's an amped-up version of Fu Manchu with a queue. Chin-Kee is embarrassing. He's loud and spouts a bunch of crazy stuff that turns him into every imaginable, ridiculous stereotype of a Chinese guy; he also goes with Danny to school when he's visiting Danny's family. Chin-Kee basically ruins Danny's life (in Danny's eyes). He shouts all the right answers in class, he comes on to Danny's girlfriend, he pees in one of the jock's can of Coke—a jock who tries to befriend Danny. Chin-Kee more or less makes Danny's social life at Oliphant High hellish. Frustrated and angry, Danny fights with Chin-Kee, only to find out that Chin-Kee is like a master of kung-fu. In fact, Chin-Kee is more than a master of kung-fu: he's the Monkey King. Yep—that's what happens to the Monkey King. We find out that he comes annually to visit Danny/Jin as Chin-Kee, but not to keep tabs on Chin-Kee—nope, he's keeping tabs on Wei-Chen, who's actually his son, sent to Earth as a "test of virtue"—to live with humans and still be free of vice. This doesn't happen, though, and Wei-Chen totally rebels against his father and rejects the teachings of Tze-Yo-Tzuh. So the Monkey King, once he's been revealed to Danny, asks Danny to return to his true form—Jin—in order to go and bring Wei-Chen back from the deep end. (By this time, Wei-Chen's transformed into a Chinese gangsta.) Jin does just that: He waits for Wei-Chen at a boba tea shop everyday for a month until he sees Wei-Chen one day and convinces him to sit down and talk things out. They do and their bromance returns. The end.

I, Too by Hughes

In this short poem, the speaker begins by claiming that he, too, "sing[s] America" (1). He goes on to note that he is "the darker brother" (2), referring to his skin color, and then makes reference to the fact that he is sent "to eat in the kitchen / when company comes" (3-4), as if he were a black slave in a white household. The oppression, however, doesn't stop him from laughing and growing strong. Then the speaker envisions a future in which he is no longer sent to the kitchen, in which no one would dare to call him unequal. They (presumably, the white majority) will see him as beautiful and "be ashamed" (17) at their previous prejudice. The poem concludes with the speaker asserting, again, that he (and, therefore, his race) is indeed American.

The Last Qualtrain of the Ballad of Emmett Till by Brooks

In which the full dimension of the terror of the legislated race-based murder of Emmett Till comes down to a unpretentious portrait of a grieving mother sitting quietly in a room and drinking coffee after burying her son.

Sweat By Hurston (1926)

It was eleven o'clock of a Spring night in Florida. (1) The first line of "Sweat" is concise and introduces us to a very specific and important part of the story: the setting. We learn that the protagonist, Delia Jones, is a washwoman and that her husband, Sykes, has disappeared with her horse and cart. In the middle of sorting clothes, "something long, round, limp and black fell upon [Delia's] shoulders and slithered to the floor beside her" (3). No, it's not a snake (her worst fear), but Sykes's bullwhip. He berates her for bringing 'white folks' clothes into the house and tells her to quit working. When she doesn't, he kicks the clothes around. This guy sounds like a real joy to be around, doesn't he? A frustrated Delia defends her job and herself with an iron skillet—she's not messing around. This causes a flabbergasted Sykes to leave the house (score). Although he treats her like dirt and is sleeping with another woman by the name of Bertha, Delia vows not to let her no-good hubby bring her down. It seems as if most of the men in town dislike Sykes—they talk about hanging him, how much of a womanizer he is, and a bunch of other stuff. When he comes into Joe Clarke's shop with Bertha, however, they all grow mute. It's a curious case of a bad man allowed to stay bad by all parties, and we're not quite sure why he gets away with so much dirt. Things go from bad to worse on the marriage front when Sykes brings a rattlesnake home. Delia asks Sykes to kill it, but of course he won't. One day, the snake escapes and Delia flees the house. Sykes comes home and the snake strikes him with a fatal bite. Delia watches and listens to him suffer, waiting patiently for him to die.

Africa by McKay

Keeping with Shakespearean literary tradition, Claude McKay's "Africa" is an English sonnet relating the short but tragic life of a fallen heroine. The poem opens with a lengthy sentence of paratactically arranged clauses, the first of which states, "The sun sought thy dim bed and brought forth light" (line 1). Referencing scientific and historical discourses on humanity's African origins, the line alludes to Genesis, in which God brings forth light with one command. The adjective dim demonstrates Africa's unlighted knowledge prior to God's intervention and also connotes the dark complexions of Africa's descendants, unspoken figures whose plight is a recurrent subject in McKay's work. The next line, "The sciences were sucklings at thy breasts," establishes the poem's female personification of Africa and lends further support to the cradle of civilization metaphor introduced in the first line. Mother Africa, a nurturer, raises and encourages the "sciences," actions that foreshadow another brightening of the world to come in the Enlightenment. Lines 3 and 4 also evoke a maternal image with the word pregnant, but return to an indirect expression of the African and African-American experience: "When all the world was young in pregnant night / Thy slaves toiled at thy monumental best." A subtle nod to the difference between African servitude and American slavery, the lines complete an encomium of Africa's success before the advent of "new peoples" (6). While McKay's next quatrain does not take the drastic turn reserved for the final couplet in Shakespearean sonnets, it clearly indicates a shift in the poem. The lines transform Africa from enterprise's champion to its object, thereby placing the Mother of Civilization into an antithetically lower position. Opening with an isocolon that stresses Africa's changing position--"Thou ancient treasure-land, thou modern prize"--the quatrain continues to demote Africa, placing agency in the hands of "new peoples" who "marvel at thy pyramids" (5-6). As the cliched expression of rolling time suggests the permanency of Africa's new condition, the quatrain concludes, "thy sphinx of riddle eyes / Watches the mad world with immobile lids" (7-8). The sphinx, a mythical creature often used in caricatures of Egyptian Africa, kills anyone who fails to answer its difficult riddles. The image of a physically and intellectually challenging monster risks undermining the gradual degradation of Africa that is the poem's theme. But, if unpacked, McKay's words reveal his sphinx's lack of power. In a demonstration of anthimeria, the word riddle acts not as a noun or verb, but as an adjective that invokes the sense of perplexity usually associated with riddles or to riddle. The sphinx, then, does not invent a riddle; a riddle makes a confused sphinx. The "immobile lids" of the dazed sphinx frame eyes that do not detect the mission of the "new people"; the eyes do not move back and forth to keep the strangers in constant sight. Blinded by the activity of the "mad world," a world both busy and crazed with expansion, the sphinx, Africa's representative, fails to see its imminent destruction. The third quatrain, like the first, begins by retelling a moment of Biblical history: "The Hebrews humbled them at Pharaoh's name" (9). These "humbled people" differ from the slaves mentioned in line 4, proud slaves that "toiled at thy monumental best" to construct an African heritage. Africa, now without the spirit of her youth, succumbs to a lowly existence. After a tricolonic list of attributes linked with conjunctions to convey the magnitude of her former excellence--"Cradle of Power! [...] / Honor and Glory, Arrogance and Fame!"--Africa is undone with one short, plain phrase: "They went" (10-12). Lacking the elaborate style and obvious devices contained throughout the poem, "They went" powerfully understates Africa's demise. Following the pronouncement is another declaration--"The darkness swallowed thee again"--that connotes discrimination of Africans based upon their skin color and the failure of their "dark" souls to reflect the light offered by the Christian God in line 1. In a final blow to Africa's once shining image, the couplet offers a scathing description of her present state: "Thou art a harlot, now thy time is done, / Of all the mighty nations of the sun" (13-14). Africa thus seems to fall on the wrong side of the virgin mother/tainted hoe dichotomy, and the personification formerly used to sing her praises now condemns her. Her reputation, however, is saved by the couplet's inverted syntax. If the lines read "Of all the mighty nations of the sun, / Thou art the harlot, now thy time is done," Africa would be rendered a wayward woman worthy of scorn because of her licentiousness. Instead, the lines state, "Thou art the harlot, [...] / Of all the mighty nations of the sun." The couplet suggests that Europe and America, nations enjoying the Son and the "sun" because they are predominantly Christian and scientifically advanced, pimped Africa in their quests to own her. In a clever positioning of words, then, McKay's Africa does not fall from grace; grace is snatched from Africa.

This Is Just To Say By Williams (1934)

Line 1 I have eaten This line tells us, quite simply, that the speaker has eaten. Good to know. Well, what have you eaten, we think. Breakfast? Lunch? Too much? Or, judging by the smallness of this poem, too little? This line sets us up for the short lines of this poem. There's no punctuation in the entire poem, so the line breaks help provide its rhythm. These short lines make it so that there's a lot of enjambment in this poem. Enjambment is the term for when one thought is spread over multiple lines or stanzas. Just think about jamming the lines back together to get a complete thought. And be sure to check out our "Sound Check" and "Form and Meter" sections to learn more about the line breaks in this poem. What's important to know now, though, is that though these short lines may seem choppy, when read well, they are smooth as plum skin. Also, they make us think about every word carefully—if these few words get a whole line to themselves, they must be important! Line 2 the plums A-ha! This line tells us what the speaker ate—plums. Specific plums, at that—"the" plums, not "some" plums. Again, this line is super-short. That gives us time to think about exactly what plums are like—red (well, actually, plum-colored), round, sweet, juicy. In a word: delectable. In fact, we'd rather like to eat some plums right now. If you've got one on hand, go for it—then you'll know exactly what this line is talking about. Oh, and aside from the title, this is the first S sound we get in the poem. Keep an eye out for more, and be sure to check out our "Sound Check" section for more on what those S's are doing in the poem? Something sneaky, we're sure. Line 3 that were in This line, we might think at first glance, tells us nothing. Since when do three little words that don't really mean anything by themselves get their own entire line? Since our speaker gave one to them, that's when. But, when you think about it, this line does tell us something about the plums he's eaten. They were inside something, but aren't there anymore, because, you know, now they're in his belly. Yum. This line builds up the significance of the simplicity of this poem. With line breaks like this, we'd think the speaker was talking about a life or death matter. Every break is a dramatic pause. But no, he's just talking about where the plums were. Maybe, this line seems to say, simple things like that are important after all. Line 4 the icebox This line reveals the location of our plums—the icebox. Now, if you were born in the last few decades, you may never have heard of an "icebox," so we'll help with a little bit of a history lesson. An "icebox" is exactly what it sounds like: a box with ice in it. It's what people used before refrigerators came about (like a cooler, but one you use all the time). Imagine, actually having to use ice to keep things cold! But the word "icebox" was also used to refer to early refrigerators, which were becoming widespread just about when this poem was published. So we're going to guess that this icebox is probably not just a box with ice, but more like a modern refrigerator. Maybe a little something like this? No matter what this icebox looked like, now we know that these plums were being kept fresh and cold. They were put away, out of sight, not just left on the counter. So the speaker had to open up the icebox to find them and eat them. The nerve. Line 5 and which Here we get another line that doesn't seem to tell us much. "And which" is just a clue that tells us we're going to hear something more about these plums. We're starting to suspect here that the speaker is choosing his words very carefully. It's like he's walking on his tiptoes, careful not to use a word that's going to step in the wrong place. While, of course, most poets are very careful about their words, we think there's another reason why something like "and which"—or line three from this poem, "that were in"—would be on lines of their own. Even though this poem tells us it's "just to say," the speaker has some sort of stake in what he's saying, or he wouldn't be taking so much time to say it. Line 6 you were probably Oh, so these weren't just any plums. They were someone else's plums. That means there's another person involved in this poem. Maybe this "you" has something to do with why the speaker is being so careful and taking so much time with his words. From here on out, we're going to refer to "you" as a female. We don't know what gender "you," is, but we'll pick one just to make things less confusing, and because if we read the poem biographically, we'd guess the "you" was Williams' wife. With the word "you," we can guess that this poem is written to someone specific. The poem, introduced with the idea that "this is just to say," is meant to be read by her. Sure, this means us, the readers, too, but we're guessing it's mainly addressed to someone the speaker knows in real life. We also find out that she was "probably" doing something with these plums. So the speaker knows her well enough to guess her intentions. Line 7 saving With only one six-letter word, this is the shortest line of the whole poem. But it actually gives us a lot of information, instead of longer lines like "that were in" and "and which," which just help to situate us. We find out with this line that the speaker has eaten the plums, which he thinks someone else was saving. They were, after all, in the icebox, and not just left out. So, maybe, we start to think, these lines are so spaced out and slow because the speaker feels a little guilty. He's trying to come up with the best words to apologize for eating these plums, even though he's not absolutely sure that they were being saved by someone else. It's just a hunch. Line 8 for breakfast Here we find out that the plums were probably being saved for breakfast. So this gives us a bit of a scene. The speaker is either going to bed late, after everyone else, or he's waking up early, before everyone else. He looks around, tries to find something to eat, and can't resist the juicy plums in the icebox. This line also hints that the speaker lives with "you." Maybe "you" is his wife, his mother, a sibling, or simply his roommate. Either way, they're around for breakfast, and were there to stow the plums away. We feel a little bit of the speaker's guilt here—the person who was saving the plums might wake up and have nothing to eat now. The speaker, we're guessing, will be gone when she awakes, so he's writing this to explain what happened to the plums. We know how Shmoop would feel if a fruit bandit stole our plums in the wee small hours of the morning, but how would you feel? Line 9 Forgive me Our speaker feels guilty about eating the plums, and straight up asks for forgiveness. Or rather, he commands it, using the imperative mood. This seems like it's a bit of an easy way out to us—he knew he shouldn't have eaten the plums, and thinks he can get away with just writing a note after the fact. But, then again, all humans do this. Just look at Adam and Eve, our biblical ancestors—they knew they shouldn't eat the forbidden fruit, but they did it anyway. Think about a time when you knew you shouldn't do something, but you did it anyway, and had to ask for forgiveness afterwards. This could be something as dramatic as cheating on your girlfriend or boyfriend, or as simple as borrowing someone's pen without asking. Line 10 they were delicious Now the speaker jumps from asking for forgiveness to describing how yummy the plums were. If the speaker is trying to explain what he did here to help "you" forgive him, we're not sure it's going to work. He's talking about how delicious the plums are that she won't be able to eat, because he ate them first. Seems like he's rubbing it in a little to us. This line strikes us as a little funny. Because it's so true to human nature, and it's something we've all said before, it brings a smile to our face. After all, we all try to justify our misdeeds after we do, them, don't we? Line 11 so sweet Okay, we think, why is he rubbing this in even more? First, he tells her they were delicious, and then that they were super-sweet? He's kind of digging himself deeper and deeper, right? Maybe he's just trying to excuse himself by telling her that they were good, but we want to whack the speaker on the head and say, "You're going to make it worse, she can't have any because of you! You should be telling her they were awful!" But there's something else going on here. For one, the speaker is using the word "so," which is kind of weird in such a minimalist poem. Let's look at the next line, and see if we can put it all together. Line 12 and so cold Again, we get another line describing what made these plums so good—they're delicious, sweet, and cold. So the stanza that starts with asking for forgiveness actually ends up being mostly about how yummy these plums were. Maybe it's a hot summer day, which makes the cold plums even that more delicious. But, like we were saying in our discussion of line 11, it doesn't seem like our speaker would intentionally try to anger the person he's justifying his actions to by describing how good the plums she can't eat were. Instead, maybe he's just trying to give her some vicarious pleasure. If she can't eat the plums, maybe she'll get some enjoyment out of his note, and be happy that he liked the plums. Finally, not to be a Negative Nelly, but we have to point out that this is a bit of a non-apology. He's all I'm so sorry I ate your plums. Don't hate me. They were delicious. If we're being honest, there's the possibility that he's not all that sorry at all. Who could be sorry about eating delicious plums? Maybe he's just really worried his wife is going to put him in the doghouse. Then again, maybe we're just being cynical.

The Red Wheelbarrow By Williams (1923)

Line 1 so much depends Our speaker doesn't say "much depends" or "things depend" or "I depend," he says "so much depends." That "so" makes us feel the gravity of the situation. It's as though our speaker really wants and needs to drive the point home. The verb "depends" is a strong one too, and one that suggest a that whatever is being depended upon is a pretty big deal. Line 2 upon "Upon" - what a pretty preposition. And an important one too. So important, in fact, that it gets its very own line. Visually (on the page) the first line of the poem (which is way longer than this line) actually looks like it's resting upon the "upon" of line two. The first line depends upon this second line. Hehe. Line 3 a red wheel A brand new couplet. We're dying to know what "so much" depends upon - drum roll, please. So much depends upon "a red wheel." A red wheel? We haven't seen too many red wheels in our days. The use of the word "red" really gets our imaginations going, for some reason. We hear the word "red" all the time, but for some reason, this color really sticks out in this poem. Why do you think that is? Line 4 barrow Oh! It's a red "wheelbarrow," not a red wheel. Our speaker just chose to split the word "wheel" and "barrow" up and didn't put a dash between them. By splitting up the two pieces of this word, our speaker makes us think about the fact that a wheelbarrow is composed of two distinct parts: the wheel and the barrow (the part you load stuff into). In some ways, we feel like this couplet looks like a wheelbarrow. OK, now that we've figured out what "so much" depends upon, we're dying to know what kinds of things depend upon a red wheelbarrow. Um, dirt could depend upon a wheelbarrow. Six-year-olds who like to be pushed around in wheelbarrows could depend upon a wheelbarrow. A person who likes to do heavy gardening could depend upon a wheelbarrow. What else could depend upon a wheelbarrow? It might help to do some research on wheelbarrows. Apparently, they've been around for almost 2,500 years and were invented in Ancient Greece. Why is it important that this particular wheelbarrow is "red"? The redness factor seems to play a huge part in just how cool this wheelbarrow is. Line 5 glazed with rain A new couplet! The word "glazed" makes us think of a shiny, glossy, glassy surface. Our wheelbarrow is sparkly from the rain. Who left this VIP wheelbarrow out in the rain? Talk about neglect. If we owned a red wheelbarrow upon which much depended, we would take better care of it. But the idea that it is "glazed with rain" makes us think that it looks pretty snappy. Line 6 water Again, we have a one-word line, making it seem like the first line of this couplet (line 5) depends upon this section line. Again, our speaker decides to split up the word "rainwater" into its equal parts: "rain" and "water." Why would he do this? Perhaps to remind us that rain is composed of water? Line 7 beside the white A new couplet! Here, we're introduced to yet another snappy preposition: "beside." We're given some more information about where our red wheelbarrow is and about the things around it. Apparently, our red wheelbarrow is standing beside something white. Talk about one colorful poem. We see the color "white" all the time in our daily lives, but there's something special about this "white," just as there is something special about the wheelbarrow's "red." These colors are sticking out in our minds. Line 8 chickens The wheelbarrow is not alone! Thank heavens. There are chickens to hang out with. We think it is interesting that the speaker refers to these chickens as "the white chickens" and not as "some white chickens" or "the chickens." He wants to describe them very carefully and very precisely. These are some special chickens. Again, the second line of this couplet looks (visually) as though it were holding up or supporting the first line, emphasizing the idea that so much depends upon the wheelbarrow. Are these chickens part of the "so much" that depends upon the red wheelbarrow? What kind of relationship do you think these chickens have with said wheelbarrow?

America by McKay

McKay was still crafting protest poetry late in his life, but "America" is tempered with the realizations that come with time. It is a ferocious assault against his adopted country for the many ways it which systematically organizes to dehumanize an entire race. At the same time, however, this oppression also serves to harden his soul and strengthen his resolve to overcome his oppressors.

Harlem Renaissance Writers

McKay, Hughes, Cullen, and Hurston

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock By Elliot (1915)

Meet Prufrock. (Hi, Prufrock!). He wants you to come take a walk with him through the winding, dirty streets of a big, foggy city that looks a lot like London. He's going to show you all the best sights, including the "one-night cheap hotels" and "sawdust restaurants." What a gentleman, he is! Also, he has a huge, life-altering question to ask you. He'll get to that later, though. Cut to a bunch of women entering and leaving a room. The women are talking about the famous Renaissance painter Michelangelo. We don't know why they're talking about Michelangelo, and we never learn. Welcome to Prufrock's world, where no one does anything interesting. Did we mention that it's foggy. Like really, really foggy. The fog has a delightful yellow color, and it acts a lot like a cat. Yawn. What a day. We've accomplished so much already with Prufrock. There's still a lot of stuff he still wants to get done before "toast and tea." People to see, decisions to make, life-altering questions to ask. But not yet...There's still plenty of time for all that later. Where did the women go? Oh, yes, they're still talking about Michelangelo. Yup. Pleeeen-ty of time for Prufrock to do all that really important stuff. Except that he doesn't know if he should. He's kind of nervous. You see, he was about to tell someone something really important, but then he didn't. Too nervous. Oops! At least he's a sharp-looking guy. Well, his clothes are sharp-looking. The rest of him is kind of not-so-sharp-looking. People say he's bald and has thin arms. But he still has pleeen-ty of time. And he's accomplished so much already! For example, he has drank a lot of coffee, and he's lived through a lot of mornings and afternoons. Those are pretty big accomplishments, right? Plus, he's known a lot of women. Or at least he's looked at their hairy arms, and that's almost as good. Prufrock says something about how he wishes he were a crab. Oh, Prufrock! Always the joker. Wait, you were serious? That's kind of sad, my friend. Don't you have important things to do? Oops! It looks like he didn't do that really important thing he meant to do. He was going to tell someone something life-altering, but he was afraid of being rejected. So he didn't. Oh well. Meanwhile, Prufrock keeps getting older. He doesn't worry about that really important thing anymore. Instead, he worries about other important things, such as whether to roll his pant-legs or eat a peach. It turns out that Prufrock really likes the ocean. He says he has heard mermaids singing - but they won't sing to him. Boy, you sure do talk a lot about yourself, Prufrock. Finally, he brings us back into the conversation. He talks about how we lived at the bottom of the sea with him (geez, we don't remember that one!). It turns out we were asleep in the ocean, but all of a sudden, we get woken up by "human voices." Unfortunately, as soon as we wake up, we drown in the salty ocean. Boy, what a day. We thought we were talking a walk, and now we're dead.

Good Country People By O'Connor (1955)

Mrs. Freeman and Mrs. Hopewell take care of "important business"(2) every morning over breakfast. Mrs. Hopewell gets up at 7:00 AM and lights the heaters—hers and her daughter Joy's—and then she gets to gossiping in the kitchen with Mrs. Freeman. Joy, who is thirty-two years old and extremely educated, takes her time coming in. Mrs. Freeman has two teenage daughters, one married and pregnant, and one not; the girls are a big topic of morning conversation. Mrs. Hopewell employs the Freemans, a tenant farming family—she's done so for the past four years—and they've worked out well because they are not "trash," but rather "good country people" (3). Ahem... did you notice that title reference? Because that totally just happened. Anyway, before the Freemans, a year was about the most a family stayed working for Mrs. Hopewell. Joy has a grumpy attitude, but Mrs. Hopewell lets her get by with it because she has a wooden leg. When she was ten, her leg was "shot off in a hunting accident" (13), which sounds like a major bummer to us. Joy legally changed her name to Hulga when she was twenty-one, but Mrs. Hopewell doesn't call her that. Moms, right? Hulga has a doctoral degree in philosophy but lives at home because she has a heart condition and needs to be cared for by her mother. She might only live another ten years or so. Today (Saturday) Mrs. Hopewell and Mrs. Freeman are wondering what Hulga talked about with the Bible salesman who came by yesterday; apparently Hulga is an atheist. Manley Pointer, the Bible salesman, wasn't able to sell Mrs. Hopewell a Bible, but he did get lunch, some conversation, and a date for today at 10:00 AM with Hulga out of his visit. Hulga and Manley meet up and begin walking in the woods. They kiss, and talk about God, damnation, nothingness, and Hulga's leg. Hulga thinks he's not nearly as smart as she is. When Manley suggests they find a place to "sit down" (104), Hulga leads him to the barn loft. Manley kisses her more and takes away her glasses. She doesn't notice. He tells her he loves her and wants her to tell him the same in return. He also wants to see where her false leg attaches to her real one. She succumbs, reluctantly at first, to both requests. After Manley removes her leg, he refuses to give it back to her. She panics. Manley open his Bible—and guess what? It's hollow inside. From the hollow, he removes whiskey, cards, and condoms. Hulga is not impressed. She demands her leg and loses all romantic spirit. Manley packs up his things... as well as Hulga's leg. He tells Hulga that he is just as smart as she is and suggests that he completely fooled her: He is an even bigger believer in nothing than she is. Through the loft opening, Hulga watches Manley leave. Her face is agitated. Mrs. Hopewell and Mrs. Freeman watch him leave, too. Mrs. Hopewell thinks he was selling Bibles to the black people who live in the direction from which he came. It's not clear what Mrs. Freeman thinks, but she gets the last word in the story. You just know we've got something to say about this over in the "What's Up With the Ending?" section.

How to Tell a True War Story by O'Brien (1990)

O'Brien offers a story about Rat Kiley that he assures his readers is true: Rat's friend, Curt Lemon, is killed, and Rat writes Lemon's sister a letter. Rat's letter talks about her brother and the crazy stunts he attempted. Rat believes the letter is poignant and personal; however, from Lemon's sister's viewpoint, it is inappropriate and disturbing. The sister never writes back, and Rat is offended and angered, as the reader is left to infer as the sister never returns the letter. O'Brien suggests that Lemon's sister's failure to return the letter offers a kind of sad and true moral to the story. Lemon's death, an accident resulting from a game of catch with a grenade, is described in detail. O'Brien remembers body parts strewn in the jungle trees and thinks about his own memories of the event. He comments that in true stories it is difficult to distinguish what actually happened from what seemed to happen, again blurring the line between truth and story. O'Brien offers readers the advice that they should be skeptical, and offers a story told to him by Mitchell Sanders as an example. A patrol goes into the mountains for a weeklong operation to monitor enemy movement. The jungle is spooky, and the men start hearing strange, eerie noises which become an opera, a glee club, chanting, and so on, but the voices they hear are not human. Sanders says that the mountains, trees, and rocks were making the noise, and that the men called in massive firepower. He says a colonel later asked them why, and they do not answer because they know he will not understand their story. Sanders says that the moral is that nobody listens; the next day Sanders admits he made up parts of the story. Next, O'Brien tells what following Lemon's death: the unit comes across a baby water buffalo. Rat Kiley tries to feed it but it does not eat, so Kiley steps back and shoots the animal in its knee. Though crying, he continues to shoot the buffalo, aiming to hurt rather than kill it. Others dump the near dead buffalo in a well to kill it. O'Brien concludes that a true war story, like the one about the water buffalo, is never about war; these stories are about love, memory, and sorrow.

Oread By H.D. (1914)

Oread, a mountain nymph, yells at the sea. She tells it to "whirl up," and compares the peaks of its waves to pine trees in the forest. She commands the sea to "splash" its "pines" (well, really its waves) upon the rocks. She commands it to "hurl" itself over the land, and to cover all of us landlubbers with water. The end. She's a pretty bossy nymph, if we do say so ourselves.

Post-WWII Poets

Roethke, Jarrell, Brooks, Komunyakaa, Erdrich, and Alexie

At Navajo Monument Valley Tribal School by Alexie (1992)

Sherman Alexie's poem "At Navajo Monument Valley Tribal School," describes the connection between Navajo tradition and modern American sports — such an unexpected and captivating comparison. His paralleled animal comparison throughout the poem illustrates a crucial theme. Horses were vital animals for the Navajo Indians, and Alexie is showing how vital football is both to American culture, and for the Navajo - as it mirrors the freedom and vitality of horses.

Jarrell By Spiegelman

TBD

Battle Royal By Ellison (1952)

The narrator remembers how naïve he was some twenty years earlier. In the present, he feels ashamed for having been ashamed of his grandparents, who were once enslaved but freed after the Civil War. So, just one more time to make sure it's clear: he is ashamed of having felt ashamed. Back to the part about the grandparents. The narrator's grandfather's last words were an admonishment to fight oppression. Known as a meek man throughout his life, the narrator's grandfather expresses anger at the system (that would be the white-controlled system) and advises using the system against the whites. And then he passes away. Okay. So while the rest of this plot summary will be told in the present tense, remember that it's all the recollection of a certain invisible man hibernating in a man hole. As a young boy in a nameless Southern town, the narrator is intelligent and obedient—a model student. He wonders if his grandfather would approve, and if the white people will ever realize that his behavior is actually treachery. Anyway, the narrator gives a graduation speech praising humility as the key to black men's progress. The speech becomes such a hit that the narrator is invited to deliver it to the white leaders of the town. When the narrator arrives in the hotel ballroom, all pumped up to give his speech, he finds the town leaders smoking and drinking heavily. He learns that nine of his schoolmates are there to participate in a "battle royal" as part of the evening's entertainment. He is asked to join them. The young black men change into boxing shirts and gloves, and were then brought up on stage. Someone is already there. A beautiful naked blonde woman is undulating onstage, and the narrator feels compelled to look at her—he feels both obsessed and disgusted. As she dances, one of the young men faints. Another begs to leave and unsuccessfully hides an erection. The narrator describes her face as blank and impersonal. As she dances, the drunken men in the audience reach out to grab her flesh. She tries to flee, but the men chase after her, fondling her and throwing her body up into the air. With the help of men who are clearly more levelheaded, she manages to escape. The boys try to leave. Unsuccessful. The ten of them are blindfolded and ordered into the boxing ring. Each is told to knock the lights out of the other black boys. Under his breath, the narrator continues to practice his speech. The narrator can hear the school superintendent's voice, among others, shouting at the blindfolded black men. A bell rings and the narrator feels like he's being punched at from all sides. He can't even see what's going on but he can hear the men shouting from the sidelines. He tastes blood in his mouth and can't distinguish blood from sweat on the rest of his body. The narrator is punched in the stomach and in the clamor to get up amidst the fighting, he realizes that he can see. Either his blindfold has gotten loose or there's a rip in the fabric. He can now see the nine other boys randomly beating up whatever they can get their gloves on. Now that he can see, the narrator fights on behalf of different groups. Eventually, the boys leave the boxing ring. Only he and the biggest of the boys, Tatlock, are left. He realizes that the other boys settled it beforehand without telling him. The last person standing would be awarded extra money. The narrator gives and takes a couple of punches, and then whispers to Tatlock that he can have the narrator's money if he fakes defeat. The narrator even offers to pay him five and then seven dollars. Tatlock says that his desire to fight the narrator is his own, that it has nothing to do with the white men. The yells from the audience let the narrator know that the white men have put bets on them. This is the evening's entertainment. The narrator takes a bad hit and is knocked out. The fight is over... or is it? The men bring out a square rug with coins and bills on it. The boys fight for the money, realizing too late that the rug is actually circuited and effectively electrocutes anyone who touches the money. Despite this knowledge, the boys still fight over the money. The white men jeer them from the sidelines, drunk and enjoying the spectacle. The narrator reaches for the leg of a chair, where a man named Mr. Colcord is sitting. Since the narrator's body is still slippery from sweat and blood, Mr. Colcord is unsuccessful in pushing the narrator away. Although unintentional at first, the narrator eventually tries to push Mr. Colcord onto the rug. Instead, the narrator is knocked over and rolls onto the electric rug himself. The rug is moved out of place, and the M.C. announces that the fight is over. The M.C. goes into the back room and pays every boy five dollars, giving Tatlock an extra five for being the winner. Completely beaten up and exhausted, the narrator moves to leave, disappointed that he didn't deliver his speech. But, wait. The narrator is called back into the room and introduced to the white crowd. The men clap and laugh at the boy. He delivers his speech, which quotes a speech given by Booker T. Washington involving an unfortunate ship in need of water and a more fortunate ship who tells the unfortunate ship to "cast down your bucket" so that they can provide the water. The narrator's speech backs the idea of different races working with one another and helping one another. As he delivers his carefully prepared speech, the crowd continues to laugh and drink. The men belittle the narrator's use of big words, making him repeat them several times. When he is told to repeat "social responsibility" over and over again, he accidentally says "social equality." That word is a very big no-no. The narrator covers up the mistake by saying he was swallowing blood in his mouth. When he finishes the speech, the men burst into applause. The school superintendent gives him a present: a fine briefcase with a scholarship to the "state college for Negroes." The narrator is stunned into tears and hastily leaves. At home, everyone congratulates him. That night, however, he has a nightmare. He is at the circus with his grandfather, and his grandfather refuses to laugh at the clowns. In the dream, the narrator opens the briefcase to find envelopes within envelopes, finally ending with a note that reads "Keep This N*****-Boy Running." The narrator wakes up to his grandfather's laughter. Now suddenly narrating from the present, the narrator admits that this is a frequently recurring dream.

Dolor by Roethke (1948)

The overall theme of this poem is to condemn institutions. He is angry and bored with the monotonous environment they create. He thinks they just create boring and dilluted individuals that become ultimately the same, photocopied, image. He's written it to resemble an Italian sonnet, which are 8 and 6. Roethkes is 8 and 5. The change of mood comes at the end of the first sentence. Note that the poem has only two sentences and is very continual and fluid. He could possibly have written it different than the average sonnet to defy the rules of the norm. This supports his overall theme of being unique and not submitting to the dullness of routine.

The Weary Blues by Hughes

The poem begins with a speaker telling someone about a piano player he heard a couple nights ago. This musician was playing a slow blues song with all his body and soul. The speaker starts to really get into the sad music. Starting at line 19, we get the first verse to the song. This musician is singing about how, even though he's miserable, he's going to put his worries aside. The second verse is more of a bummer: nothing can cure his blues, and he wishes he was dead. The musician plays on late into the night; and when he finally goes to bed, he sleeps like a dead person or something else that can't think.

Democracy by Hughes

The poem opens with the speaker talking about democracy never coming through "compromise and fear." The speaker has as much a right to own the land and stand on his own two feet, just like anybody else. He then goes on to talk about the folks who say freedom will come tomorrow, just let it take its course. The speaker feels those people have got it wrong, since he "cannot live on tomorrow's bread." Freedom is a "strong seed" and is planted in "a great need," and since the speaker lives here, he deserves freedom just like anybody else.

Heritage by Cullen

The poem starts off with the Speaker questioning "What is Africa to me?" He starts off by describing the physical richness of the continent, with its "Copper sun" and "scarlet sea." He goes on to compare its beauty to "Eden." However, the poem starts harboring more negative connotations of Africa, as it is filled with "wild barbaric birds." It is clear that the Speaker is in conflict with his true heritage and what is expected of him from a white person's perspective. He attempts to deny the "Great drums" that are the rhythm of Africa by "(cramming) against my ear" his thumbs. The speaker is worried that his true feelings of inherent pride of his culture will "surge and foam" from his head. He " must forget" the true meaning of "black" Africa and succumb to the white perspective. He disclaims his religious identity, "Heathen gods are naught to me" and admits to following the white religion of "Jesus Christ ." However, he does acknowledge his God must be "black" as his skin color if closely associated with the suffering oh his new religion. Thus he has infused his heritage and cannot truly let it go. He ends the poem, unable to decide which of his personas has "my heart or head."

Dear John Wayne by Erdrich (1984)

The poem, "Dear John Wayne" by Louise Erdrich, takes place both at a drive-in movie theater and in a John Wayne movie that involves fighting and Indians. The title of the poem "Dear John Wayne" obviously shows that the poem would involve John Wayne in some way. It also might have to do with the fact that he was in western movies, and in western movies there are usually Indians. I think that this poem is about how the settlers and cowboys "stole" the land in the western part of the United States from the Native Americans. One of the main characters is John Wayne. He appears to be one of the "good guys" in the movie. Another group of main characters are the Native Americans that appear in the movie. They still can be considered main characters even though they are not directly mentioned, they are implied. The author of this poetry analysis thinks that the speaker(s) in this poem are the Native Americans that are in the movie. In the first stanza (lines one through five), it takes place at a drive-in movie theater. The time period might be around 1970s. The second stanza (lines six through ten) appears to be a scene of a person on the lookout for any signs of Native Americans, this person could be John Wayne, but the author of this poetry analysis thinks that he would have taken a more important role in the movie. Then the poem goes on to talk about who those Native Americans might be "Sioux or some other Plains bunch" (Erdrich 1653). Then it goes on and mentions "ICBM missiles" (Erdrich1653). Why would there be mention of these missiles? The author of this poetry analysis thinks that it could have been because the missiles might have been stored on the Native American's land. In the third stanza (lines eleven through sixteen), a battle is taking place. From the way it is written, it appears that not only could it be a scene in the movie, but also a scene in a real battle. Then in the last line of the third stanza, it appears to go back to the present because "the history that brought us all here together: this wide screen beneath the sign of the bear" (Erdrich 1653). The bear is a Native American symbol that is often used. In the fourth stanza (lines seventeen through twenty-three) it appears to be back in the present. At the end of the stanza John Wayne says "It is not over, this fight, not as long as you resist...Everything we see belongs to us" (Erdrich 1654). This was a common belief among the settlers since they put a price on land, but Native Americans did not. In the fifth stanza (lines twenty-four through twenty-nine), the movie finishes, but in the last bit of the movie someone says "The eye sees a lot, John, but the heart is so blind...Death makes us owners of nothing" (Erdrich 1654). The last part of the quote is very important because back in the time of the settlers, they thought that if they killed a Native American that they then owned the land. This is not so because the land does not belong to just one person, it belongs to everybody. In the sixth stanza (lines thirty through thirty-five), the movie has ended. The people "are back in our own skins" (Erdrich 1654). This could mean that the movie goers figuratively were out of their bodies during the movie. In the last stanza (lines thirty-six through forty), John Wayne says "Come on, boys, we got them where we want them, drunk, running. They'll give us what we want, what we need" (Erdrich 1654). This goes along with the last two lines that say "Even his disease was the idea of taking everything...Those cells, burning, doubling, splitting out of their skins" (Erdrich 1654). This is the description of what John Wayne died from, cancer. This poem told multiple stories: a story of a night at a drive in movie theater in which a John Wayne movie was playing, and a story about the battles that happened over the land that the Native Americans lived on. The author of this poetry analysis thought that it was ironic when at the very end John Wayne's death was mentioned. The reader(s) of this poem can take away from the text is the fact that the land does not belong to anybody. People's blood should not be spilled over land disputes. Also that when you take away something from somebody, then somebody will take something from you.

Facing It by Komunyakaa

The speaker experiences a loss of identity when he looks at the memorial, which is a granite wall, and his 'black face' is no longer differentiate from the wall. He reminds himself that he is strong and has no emotion, like a 'stone'. He, however, ends up breaking down as he is a human, 'flesh'. The meaning of the 'clouded reflection' here is the events that the speaker had to face in the past, the memories of which are back to haunt him. These experiences are dangerous, dark, and they threaten to return. They form an imagery for him from which he wants to get away. He is too involved with the past that comes flooding back when he is inside the memorial. He has doubts raised over his identity when he sees his reflection on the war memorial, which keep on appearing and disappearing depending on the 'light'. The speaker skims through the names of 58,022 personnel who had lost their lives or were missing since the war, half-expecting to find his name to be on that list. He finds a familiar name on the memorial wall, and is reminded of how the person, Andrew Johnson, had died. The lines between past and present begin to blur, as his memories from the war begin to resurface. His train of thought is broken because of the flapping wings of a bird, which he compares to a 'brushstroke'. Soon, he drifts back to what he thinks are his days on the field, but soon realizes that he is remembering motherly affection.

Everyday Use By Walker (1973)

The story begins with the narrator hanging out in her yard, waiting for her daughter Dee who's coming to visit. Even though we've just met the lady, we climb right inside her head and start watching one of her fantasies. No, not that kind of fantasy. She's just picturing what it would be like to reunite with Dee on a TV talk show. We also meet and learn a bit about the narrator's other daughter, Maggie, a shy kid with burn scars on her body. Ouch. The narrator chats with us readers some more and we learn that she's an African American woman who grew up in the early twentieth century. Finally Dee rolls into the driveway with a dude. Dee, who is dressed to the nines, and the dude (an Arab guy who's name is Hakim-a-barber) greet the narrator and Maggie with fancy Arabic and African salutations. Dee announces that she's changed her name to Wangero (an African name) in order to fight her oppressors and she and her mother have a little chat about all that. The narrator's made a pretty big spread for the occasion so everyone sits down to eat. As they're eating, Dee becomes totally obsessed with a butter churn in the corner of the yard that was made by her uncle. She wants to take parts of it and use them to decorate her own place. Later on, Dee goes into the house and finds two really cool handmade quilts as she's rummaging through her mother's trunk. Wow, she seems to think, this place is better than IKEA, brimming with charming and quirky items that she can use to spruce up her apartment. She asks her mother if it's okay to take the quilts. Sorry, the narrator tells her, she's planning on giving them to Maggie. Dee throws an epic tantrum and tries to convince Mom that she deserves them more, but the narrator prevails, taking the quilts from Dee and giving them to Maggie. Dee leaves in a huff with Hakim, throwing out a few last condescending remarks before taking off. The narrator and Maggie watch them ride away, but don't seem too broken up over their departure. Instead they just chill out together, relaxing in their yard.

Hills Like White Elephants By Hemingway (1927)

The story opens—surprise, surprise—with a description of some white hills. We also get a view of the river Ebro, all seen from a train station. An American man and a woman are having some beers outside the station bar as they wait for the train from Barcelona to Madrid. Sounds fun and peaceful, right? Eh—not so much. As the couple drinks, the woman tells that man that the hills in the distance remind her of (yup) "white elephants." This sparks a little argument between them, which the woman sidesteps by pointing out that something has been painted on the beaded curtain that hangs over the doorway of the bar. The painting advertises a liquor called Anis del Toro, which they decide to try. Their conversation remains tense, and soon the man begins trying to convince the woman, Jig, to have an abortion—but only, he says, if she wants to. She wants to know if this will solve their problems, and get their relationship back on track. He tells her that their relationship is on track, but that he's distracted because of his "worry" over the pregnancy. She agrees to have the abortion, but says she is only agreeing because she no longer cares about herself. The man says she shouldn't do it for that reason, which: yes...but he's hardly getting a "world's best boyfriend" award for that one. She expresses despair over the situation and a feeling that all is now lost. The man tries to reassure her that this isn't the case, and finally tells her (without actually saying it) that he is willing to marry her...but makes it clear he would prefer that she have the abortion. (Definitely no "boyfriend of the year" award.) She becomes anxious and asks him to stop talking. He responds by saying he doesn't want her to have the abortion if she doesn't want it. Jig threatens to scream. The woman who has been serving their drinks tells them that the train will soon arrive, and the man gets up and takes their luggage over to the train stop. Then he goes into the bar and has another Anis del Toro. When he gets back to Jig, sitting at the table outside, she gives him a smile. He asks her if she "feel[s]" better," and she responds by insinuating she never felt bad in the first place. And that's the end of the story.

Going To Meet The Man By Baldwin (1965)

The story starts with a scene in the bedroom of a local sheriff Jesse and his wife Grace. The problem is that the man is unable to perform sexually; his wife surely does not insist, just tells him that he has been working lately too hard and advises him to go to sleep as tomorrow is going to be a rather difficult day. But he can't sleep, all he is thinking about is a black girl who would do anything he asks, but he could not ask his wife of such a favor, and these thoughts make him suffer. Jesse can't fall asleep so starts telling that the following day is going to be difficult because there were problems with black people in the local office. They have gathered together around the court house and continue singing without stopping. The reason why they have gathered is not clear, but it seems like a rebellion, and local authorities decided to catch a boy who was among these people, he seemed to be a leader, and they thought that if they caught him, all the rest would go ever. But they did not. Jesse had to make this boy make his people stop singing, and when entered the cell where he was kept Jesse started kick and beat him. The scene is rather intense, and atmosphere is dreadful. Jesse continues propping the boy with the club and the last fell down almost unconscious, but he would not obey. That singing outside seemed to Jesse very familiar, but he could not remember where he had heard it. And suddenly he remembered, it had happened when he was 8 years old. There was an execution in their town, a black man was caught for some deed (which is unclear from the context), tied up in front of a great amount of people, beaten and finally one of the white men took a knife and cut off the black man's privates. After that the black man was burned. The rest of the unburned body they torn was torn apart. This moment and these eyes now apart from the body would forever stay in the little boy's memory.

Slam, Dunk, & Hook by Komunyakaa (1992)

To paraphrase, this poem is a trip through dealing with emotions. The speaker of the poem loves to play basketball, and feels very powerful by playing the sport and seeing the girls cheer for him. He loves the moment when the ball just hovers in the air before it goes into the net. He also joined the basketball team because his mother died, and the team and the game help him forget, they help him stay happy. The defining moment of this character's life is when his mom died. He learns how to stay happy. Which creates the theme that Good times can distract from what is really important in life.

Recitatif By Morrison (1983)

Toni Morrison's 1983 short story "Recitatif" tells the story of Twyla and Roberta, two women who become acquaintances in a shelter during their youth, and share a rocky friendship from that point forward. The acquaintance is tested by its historical context, which puts the girls' friendship within the context of the "black-white" issue, as Roberta calls it. This issue of race forms the story's various moments of tension, and is in the background of the entire story. Interestingly, the race of the women is never made explicit, something that Morrison did intentionally. By removing racial clues, it is left to the reader to place values of right and wrong upon the two women without the often crippling aid of racial markers. Twyla and Roberta meet each other in St. Bonny's, formerly known as St. Bonaventure, when they are both eight years old. While in the shelter, Twyla does not want to share a room with people like Roberta because her mother once told her that they smell funny. She tries to get different lodging by admitting that her mother would not approve. In time, however, Twyla finds Roberta different than the depiction her mother paints, and the two stick together, especially as they are afraid of the older girls at the shelter. Most of the children are orphans, but Twyla is at the shelter because her mother is a dancer and always out, and Roberta is there because her mother is sick. The story is told from Twyla's point-of-view. Early on, she recalls the orchard at the shelter, though she does not know why this place stands out so poignantly to her in her memory. She then segues into a memory of Maggie, a mute woman who worked in the shelter's kitchen. Twyla recalls how Maggie fell down in the orchard and no one went to her aid. Instead, the older girls taunted her and called her names. Looking back, Twyla admits that she is ashamed of the event and of not going to Maggie's aide. The girls go to church with their mothers one Sunday, are initially excited about the excursion. Though Twyla feels embarrassed by her mother, Mary, and her casual demeanor, she is also proud because her mother is very attractive. By contrast, Roberta's mother is dressed more formally, wears a large cross and carries a Bible. Roberta attempts to introduce the two women, but her mother refuses to shake Mary's hand, which angers Mary. Mary curses out loud in response to the slight, further embarrassing Twyla. The contrast between the two mothers is further highlighted when, after the service, Roberta becomes so full from the food her mother brought along that she cannot finish her food. Mary and Twyla, on the other hand, eat Easter candy as Mary has not packed a meal for Twyla. Roberta soon leaves the shelter, and Twyla does not see her for quite a while. When the two encounter each other again, Twyla is a waitress at a Howard Johnson hotel. Roberta enters with friends and tells her old acquaintance that they are all on their way to see Jimi Hendrix perform. When Twyla confesses that she does not know who Hendrix is, Roberta calls her an a-hole. Twyla naturally takes offense, and replies by asking Roberta about her mother while replying that her own mother is still attractive and healthy. The next encounter between the two girls comes when Twyla is twenty-eight years old and married. She now lives in a rather nondescript town, Newburgh, and goes shopping one day at the town's new mall. While at the market, she sees Roberta again. Roberta is now married to a rich executive, and greets Twyla warmly, considering their last encounter. As they talk, the event concerning Maggie resurfaces, and Roberta recalls that Maggie was pushed by the older girls as opposed to falling down on her own, which is how Twyla remembers it. The revelation makes Twyla feel uncomfortable about the event again, which then causes her to bring up the encounter at the Howard Johnson hotel. Roberta brushes off the event, chalking it up to the whole "black-white" issue of the day. Seemingly on better terms, the two women promise to keep in touch with one another. The two women again meet each other amidst the racial tension of busing in Newburgh. Twyla's son, Joseph, has to take a bus to a school in a different area as busing has been instituted to integrate schools. One day, Twyla drives by the school her son will attend and sees Roberta picketing. She is picketing with a group of dissenters against busing. When she stops to talk with Roberta, they begin addressing the issue of busing, and their talk soon turns into a heated argument. The picketers, angered, surround Twyla's car and begin rocking it back and forth. Though Twyla reaches out to Roberta for help, Roberta refuses to help her. The tension is finally broken up when the police arrive and help Twyla. Roberta then says to Twyla that she is just as she was when they were in the shelter, and that she kicked Maggie, who was black, while she was on the ground. Twyla denies kicking Maggie, and insists that Maggie was not black. Over several weeks of picketing and tension, Twyla stands on the picket line opposite Roberta. Her signs, however, become increasingly personal, to the extent that she asks Roberta how her mother is via the signs. After the picketing abates, the two women do not interact again for some time. When she finally sees Roberta again, Roberta is coming from a glitzy party. Twyla has been concerned the entire time about what Roberta said about Maggie during their last encounter. As if on the same page, Roberta approaches Twyla and brings the issue up. She admits that the two girls never really kicked Maggie, but that she had wanted to kick her. Also, she thought Maggie was black at the time, so her wanting to kick a black woman is tantamount to the action itself, to which Roberta then starts crying. Twyla thanks Roberta for the truth, and admits that her mother never stopped dancing, while Roberta admits that her mother never got well. The narrative ends with a crying Roberta wondering what happened to Maggie. The "black-white" issue, as Roberta calls it, is a powerful theme in the narrative. Morrison shows through her narrative how the racial tensions of the day were so strong that they were even able to divide two people who seemingly care for each other and shared important life moments together. Roberta's actions show how deep hatred can go. More importantly, it shows how hatred of others, such as racial hate, can often spring from a place of self-hatred. Roberta is angry at herself for what she did and did not do in response to Maggie's treatment when they were children. She has carried this anger her entire life, and the reader sees that she uses it to lash out at others, such as Twyla. As such, Morrison critiques the underlying reasons and justifications for hatred, showing how the individual needs to grow in order for society as a whole to grow. Moreover, Morrison shows how effective strong relationships, communication and community are. The power of connection between Twyla and Roberta allows Roberta to finally admit her fears, and as such, provides a starting point for growth and forgiveness. The story ends on an ambiguous note, meaning that the two women might become friends again or, like the story has shown us so far, might be divided based on racial tensions.

We Real Cool by Brooks (1960)

his poem is only eight lines long, so you probably don't need a summary. What isn't included in the text of the poem, however, is a bit of background framing the lines we read. The poem lists off the thoughts of some young guys playing pool at a pool house called "The Golden Shovel," that seems pretty straightforward. But it's actually more complicated than that. In fact, the lines we read are what an outside observer thinks these boys might be feeling. So this observer, our speaker, thinks the boys might have dropped out of school, be drinking gin, staying out late at night, enjoying jazz, and will have short lives. How do we know all of this background information? From Gwendolyn Brooks, of course. You can listen to Brooks talk about "We Real Cool" (and listen to her read the poem, too), on Poets.org.

Leda By H.D (1919)

https://genius.com/H-d-hilda-doolittle-leda-annotated (sorry for the link, couldn't find a summary to copy and paste. Its really well broken down in the link though)

Visitors to the Black Belt by Hughes

https://genius.com/Langston-hughes-visitors-to-the-black-belt-annotated

Crow Testament by Alexie (2000)

https://genius.com/Sherman-alexie-crow-testament-annotated

My Father's Love Letters by Komunyakaa

https://genius.com/Yusef-komunyakaa-my-fathers-love-letters-annotated