Journal Entry Quarter 2: 4

          In my reading of Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury, I have noticed a reflection of American Literature as a whole. Through each of the time periods, Americans have rejected, rebelled against, and redefined the styles and ideas of previous literary movements. These literary revolutions have occurred with the shifting ideals of the culture as a whole, and with those of most individuals. Each time period redefines what "being an American" means, by redefining the American Dream, by redefining success and happiness. The American Dream is always the idea that an individual can reach their goals without some supervisor, employer, Jedi Master type looming over them, smacking them with a ruler every time they slip a toe out of line. Each person has the freedom to arbitrarily decide when they will be satisfied, successful, and happy. It is the nature of every new generation to see the very opposite of the previous one as happiness. Between Puritanism and Rationalism, there lies rebellion against the passive nature of predestination, while the people begin to invest themselves in Revolutionary thought, and the shaping of a nation. From Rationalism to Romanticism, people rejected the theories of logic and real-world evidence-based thought, for whimsical tales directed at a moral, as the citizens seek to better there lives, and develop a taste for luxury. For each time period there is a new trend in the culture. For each is a new version of the American Dream.
          This rejection of the old idea of happiness is among the most prevalent motifs in Fahrenheit 451. As main character Guy Montag begins to see that his world has lost the beauty of knowing in favor of ignorance, he personal rebells. He hides away books behind a vent. He turns the flamethrower on his boss, burning him to charcoal. He escapes the city on the run from the mechanical Hound, running as if he is not so much saving himself, but saving what he has discovered. Within that one novel, the American tendency to discover and remake and rebel is revealed. Guy was generally happy before his eyes were opened by the wonderfully rebellious knowledge of a girl who dared to stare at the sky and watch the wind send leaves rolling, cart-wheeling, across the lawns. He is forced to redefine his American Dream, much the way our Literature has been forced to change as we redefine the idea in the world of reality.

Journal Entry Quarter 2: 3

          If there is one time period that Fahrenheit 451 does not seem to hold a connection to, it is Rationalism. Ray Bradbury's novel develops a futuristic distopia where knowledge, reading, and discovery are forbidden. Books are burned, and possession of them is a crime. To the modern reader, the Post Modern story is entirely fantasy, even though it serves as a warning to hold on to words and to knowledge tightly through the ever faster shifting winds of technology. Bradbury uses a great deal of  creative liberty to assume dramatic results and devastating consequences for protagonist Guy Montag's world of ignorance. The novel therefore is more a rejection of Rationalism than an example of it, even though it defends the needs for both rational and creative thought.
         Rationalism defines the world in a logical and realistic way, which requires one to view the world through reason rather than imagination. The opposite of ideas inspired Bradbury. Where Rationalism focuses on the retelling of true events as the means of conveying a point, Romanticism - imagination, fantasy, nature, and fiction - uses pure imagination to "drive home" its point. Bradbury rejects to former for the use of the latter, much in the way that his nineteenth century predecessors rejected the same. For Fahrenheit 451, Bradbury chose the most effective style of Literature.

Journal Entry Quarter 2: 2

          Fahrenheit 451 connects to Romanticism through its element of fantasy. Though, theoretically, Ray Bradbury's novel represents a warning, not a mystical land, it still holds the elements of un-reality. Since the entire book is set in the future, it serves to warn people about the dangers of giving up knowledge for the contentedness of an "ignorance is bliss" ideology. Fantasy almost always contains a moral or a warning, and Fahrenheit 451 is no different. The elements of Romanticism play out in the unreal elements of the story, such as the mechanical Hound, the Firemen that burn books, and the conflict within protagonist Guy Montag. The connection shows that even books written in Post-Modernism, two time periods after Romanticism, contain elements of previous styles of writing.
           However, one of the other important elements of Romanticism is the focus on nature. Fahrenheit 451 is set in a city for roughly the first half of the novel. Even in the city, though, there is a focus on the natural. When Guy meets the girl, Clarisse McClallen, she immediately begins to point out the beautiful pieces of the natural world, right on their street. Blowing leaves, shining stars, and even dandelion pollen enter their conversations with frequency, and Guy begins to notice the simple beauty of the world around him. No longer does his stare at his toes as he moves down the sidewalk, but he sees. He sees what his country, his culture, is missing through their obsession with speed, technology, and ignorant content. The novel ties nature to knowledge, as through Guy's newfound attention to the world , he finds himself wanting to know more, wanting to read, to learn, to discover. Romanticism is a large element of Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, even though it was written a century after the time period slipped away.

Journal Entry Quarter 2: 1

          The novel Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury connects well to my definition of American Literature. In the novel, protagonist Guy Montag finds himself highly conflicted. As a fireman, his job is to burn books found in people's houses. The books are illegal in the futuristic society, and rather than putting out fires, the firemen are the ones to start them. It is a society filled with destruction, in which cars drive over ninety miles per hour and run over people with out looking back, deaths are unmourned,   knowledge is burned, and people believe that they are happy because they are ignorant. As the story progresses, Guy realizes that there is much to learn from books, and that his world has lost a great deal by banning them. Guy himself has a hidden stash, which his wife turns him in for. The betrayal sends him on the run, chased by helicopters and a mechanical Hound, but he makes it to the river and escapes.
          Though it may not be obvious, even this futuristic novel includes elements of the American Dream. As a piece of the cannon of American Literature, it shares the common theme with the other pieces of literature. In Fahrenheit 451, the American Dream is embodied by Guy's sudden thirst for knowledge and his willingness to sacrifice for what he believes is important. The protagonist finds himself in challenges that few have faced, persecuted for his newfound need for knowledge and hunted by the technology that has done away with leather bindings and yellowing, inked covered paper. Guy's American Dream is to find knowledge, to learn what has been lost, and to escape the choking hold of his society. The book as a whole serves as Bradbury's warning to the American people: hold on to your knowledge, do not let it slip through the cracks, because it will be so hard, so so hard, to get it back. It is a message centered around the part of the American Dream that requires the betterment of oneself throughout the betterment of one's mind. Therefore, Fahrenheit 451 is a perfect example of the connecting theme in all of American Literature - the American Dream.

Journal Entry 3: In Class Relevance

          Through in-class studies, I have found that Puritans were above all else a God-fearing people who centered their lives around morality and religion. However, the belief in Original Sin meant that they were constantly fighting what they believed to be human nature. Arthur Miller's "The Crucible," a 1953 play depicts the town of Salem, Massachusetts during their infamous Witch Trials of 1692. Characters struggle with supporting the accusations of witchcraft - condemned by the Bible and therefore by the Puritans - and watching their friends, neighbors, wives, and families be imprisoned on no more than the words of a few young girls. "The Crucible" pairs perfectly with the classroom study of Puritanism, for, though it was written about two and a half centuries later, it puts names and personalities to the people of Salem, one of the most famous Puritan towns.
          In the play, the most important characters are a pair of priests - one from Salem and one from elsewhere - the judge, and an accused farmer named John Proctor. The priest have a great deal of power in the town, and when Mr. Proctor is accused of missing the Sunday Service a few times, the judge looks at him in a new and unfavorable light. While it was ultimately the judge's decision as to who would hang and who would walk, the priests' input is held in high regard. The judge too dealt with nearly all questions as a matter of piety. Clearly, religion was the center point on which the Puritan world focused. Lastly, John Proctor, tormented by guilt for lusting after a young girl - the same girl who ultimately accused him - nearly goes mad with self-loathing, doing whatever he can to regain his moral goodness. Even when his wife convinces him to confess so that he would not be hanged, at the last moment he violently refuses to sign the false confession, in theory clearing his name in the eyes of the Lord. All of these factors contribute to a strong connection between the twentieth century play "The Crucible" and the seventeenth century literature and culture of Puritanism.

Journal Entry 2: Definition and "The Crucible"

          In short, American Literature follows the idea of individual success and personal advancement. The principal of the American Dream is key to the American culture, and though it has changed through history, foundation remains: you eat on the sweat of your brow. The American Dream is the hallmark of the small-businessman, the creed of the farmer plowing the same land his grandfather worked, and the concept that drives founders to create corporations. It is an ever-present state of mind or at least a principal goal for most Americans. It is a fundamental part of our history and our heritage, and Americans like to hear about, read about, or write about this Dream we have.

          "The Crucible" by Arthur Miller is no exception to this aspect of American Literature. The 1953 play turns back the pages to the Puritan city of Salem, Massachusetts, 1692. Through this time travel, Miller tells his reader of a world where virtue governed the lives of its people, and men worked so that they could eat, and ate so that they could rise again at sun-up and continue the work. Success to the people of Salem was food on the table and the favor of God. Riches came from God. Tragedy came from God. That world revolved around God. People worked hard and were virtuous because they sought the favor of God. Maybe it is a far cry from the modern idea of success, but to the people of Salem in their darkest hour, when friends and neighbors were locked away as witches and servants of the Devil, virtue was the most important aspect of their lives. Therefore, the American Dream is a powerful and unending message of American greatness, which pulls at our tendency towards often well-deserved pride throughout our history and our literature.

Journal Entry 1

          Though they come from different time periods, "The Crucible" by Arthur Miller and "Prologue" by Anne Bradstreet have several similarities. As pieces of American Literature, both reflect American life, and in particular religion. "The Crucible" is a play depicting the Salem Witch Trials of 1692, but the play itself was written in 1953. Characters represent the judges, priests, accusers, and the accused. Miller does an excellent job of capturing the panicked and unfailing religious people of Salem in his play, and it makes for a quick read. Though it is far from the style of Puritanism, it does reflect the piousness of those people and therefore shares characteristics with their writing.

          As a Puritan writer, Anne Bradstreet depicted the everyday life she observed around her, rather than interpreting stories and history into a play. However, the life she captured, even in her "Prologue,"was one of a deeply religious, patriarchal society, where that which could not be easily explained or was strange was chalked up to the will of God. She writes of her inferiority to men, but her human wish to be recognized as well. These tendencies to reflect culture are common between "The Crucible" and "Prologue,"and together they shine light on the Puritan people who set the foundation for American Literature.

Symbols of Myself: Final

A personality is difficult to define. It is typically complicated, multilayered, and even unknown to the person to whom it belongs. Yet it is only human to attempt to define one’s self. Our possessions, our objects, our belongings, and our favorite items all speak volumes about us. Without even realizing what we have done, our personalities shine through the symbols we keep close. I am no different. Complex. Multilayered. And there are parts of me that I am sure I do not know.

            I do know that I am sentimental. I attach feelings to otherwise meaningless objects. They are the embodiment of memories or pieces of my past, present, and future. Among the symbols that are extensions of myself are my Jeep, my bow and arrows, my basketball shoes, and my fleur-de-lis ring. Though the characteristics of each symbol may overlap, each displays a piece of my personality.

            Candy-apple red, often with mud up to windows, and sporting a convertible top, my Jeep is among my favorite possessions. In two months, it has traveled nearly two thousand miles as I have chauffeured my family around town, down highways, and through muddy back roads. Versatility is a key feature to the Jeep. It goes anywhere. Around town it becomes an eye-catching conversation piece. In the Mississippi swampland it is a way through a particularly muddy, rough section of dirt road. The Jeep has been a right of passage into a little-known family of Jeep drivers. It is but common courtesy to wave and acknowledge one another on the roads. All around, there is little to complain about in my Jeep.

            Yet there is a deeper meaning to my car than being fun. It is most definitely an extension of myself. Though I am not particularly loud, I like to be striking, to turn heads with confidence and strength. The Jeep shows off my need to stand out from the crowd; running in the middle of the pack is not for me. “Average” is a word I never want to hear associated with myself, my accomplishments, or my endeavors. I wanted and needed a car to make a statement without saying a word and to show a piece of myself off to the world. In the Jeep, I am given the freedom to do just that: make an impression.

            Though not as public as the Jeep, my bow and arrows are just as colorful, sporting my favorite shades, electric blue and hot pink. Powerful, fast, quiet, and light, it is the perfect hunting tool. My dad, brother, and I all hunt with bow and gun, enjoying the closeness to nature it provides. Shooting a bow well took hours of practice, plenty of bruises from the string burning my arm, and a few tears of pain or frustration. I have a lot of pride invested in my archery. Every time my fingers close around the walnut grip, I am focused, confident, and on top of my game. Fifty pounds of resistance fight the draw, but, once overcome, that weight gives the weapon its speed and strength. The upper and lower limbs flex under the taut bowstring. Every element of the bow holds an air of quiet strength and confident power.

The bow is more than a weapon. It is an empowering tool which allows the shooter to determine the placement of a flying, spinning blade. Holding it, drawing it, and shooting it all bring a sense of strength. There is little more satisfying than a perfect “10.” My bow represents a “rough-around-the-edges” part of my personality: not backing down or ever quitting. I can fend for myself. Perhaps it is an intimidating trait. But perhaps I’m alright with that. Being at the top of the class, an athlete, and a “rule-follower” puts a massive target on my back. I’ve learned to take the efforts of others to pull me down in stride. Smile, nod, congratulate, and move on. It is easier for them to make the top seem closer than to get closer to the top. I welcome the competition. It can only make me better. My bow displays the side of me that stands tall under pressure and the competitive spirit that sees opponents as just another hurtle to leap.

            Fending for myself applies perfectly to my favorite athletic activity: basketball. Scuffed and scarred, my basketball shoes show the wear and tear of Varsity girls’ basketball. Among the roughest and most aggressive sports, basketball is a test of will power and physical strength. Five on five, defending and attacking opposite baskets, it is a sport of bruises and scrapes, sweat and blood. Each teammate relies on the next as a family, and each game puts our family to the test. Now sitting stale in my closet, my shoes remind me of my teammates, our camaraderie, and our long hours of work every time I see them.

            Those shoes carry pride and memories for me. 6 years of basketball have changed me, made me an aggressive, assertive, strong person. I don’t back down. I don’t slack off in the gym or in anything else. I don’t know how to give up. My shoes are merely a symbol of my all-or-nothing attitude, a token to hard work put in and success achieved. When I put them back on each November, a sense of pride in how far I have come from a relatively shy, reserved child, to a confident, assertive high school student is inevitable.

            Lastly, my ring was a cherished gift from my mother and father when I turned 15. Now slightly tarnished silver on the inside with gold bands on both edges and fleur-de-lis embossed into the center portion, it is truly a piece of art. It is elegant. It is refined. It is an item I rarely leave home without.

            The ring is a drastically different embodiment of my personality. It represents the side of me that enjoys dressing up and going to a nice restaurant, attends Mardi Gras balls in floor length dresses, and spends time at the country club. Refined and elegant, it is the side of me that takes pride in little accomplishments: walking gracefully thanks to ten years of dancing, finally getting my hair to look just the way I planned for homecoming, or not spilling anything on my clothes at dinner. One might call it petty or up-tight, but mostly, my ring represents the class of a daughter of the South.

            I am not so different than other people. I at least like to see myself as multifaceted and impossible to truly define. People wouldn’t be nearly as intriguing if everyone could be summed up in just a few simple, probably overused, and ultimately tired words. Everyone wants to say that they are nice, and smart, and a good friend, but are they not so much more than that? My symbols are displays of that complexity. They show off bits and pieces of my personality, and I hold them close because I have attached them – simple, mostly replaceable objects – to pieces of myself. The morals I value, the attributes I take pride in, and an overview of my personality can be gathered from observation of all the symbols I possess, not only my Jeep, bow, shoes, and ring. I do not think I can define myself, or anyone for that matter. However, my personality is not hidden. Just take a closer look at the objects I hold most dear.

Symbols of Myself: Rough Draft

A personality is difficult to define. It is typically complicated, multilayered, and even unknown to the person it belongs to. Yet it is only human to attempt to define yourself. Our possessions, objects, belongings, favorite items or characteristic all speak volumes about us. Without even realizing what we have done, our personalities shine through the symbols we keep close. I am no different. Complex. Multilayered. And there are parts of me that I am sure I do not know.

            I do know that I am sentimental. I attach feelings to otherwise meaningless objects, and they are the embodiment of memories or pieces of my past, present, and future. Among the symbols that are extensions of myself are my Jeep, my bow and arrows, my basketball shoes, and my fleur-de-lis ring. Though the characteristics of each symbol may overlap, but each displays a piece of my personality.

            Candy-apple red, often with mud up to windows, and sporting a convertible top, my Jeep is among my favorite possessions. In two months, it has traveled nearly two thousand miles as I have chauffeured my family around town, down highways, and through muddy back roads. Versatility is a key feature to the Jeep. It goes anywhere. Around town it becomes an eye-catching conversation piece. In the Mississippi swampland it is a way through a particularly muddy, rough section of dirt road. The Jeep has been a right of passage into an unknown family of Jeep drivers. It is but common courtesy to wave and acknowledge one another on the roads. All around, there is little to complain about in my Jeep.

            Yet there is a deeper meaning to my car than being fun. It is most definitely an extension of myself. Though I am not particularly loud, I like to be striking, to turn heads with confidence and strength. The Jeep shows off my need to stand out from the crowd: running in the middle of the pack is not for me. “Average” is a word I never want to hear associated with myself, my accomplishments, or my endeavors. In the Jeep, I am given the freedom to go where I wish, to make a statement without saying a word, and to show a piece of myself to the world, and that is what I needed and wanted it to do.

            Though not as public as the Jeep, my bow and arrows are just as colorful, sporting my favorite shades, electric blue and hot pink. Powerful, fast, quiet, and light, it is the perfect hunting tool. My dad, brother, and I all hunt with bow and gun, enjoying the closeness to nature it provides. Shooting a bow well took hours of practice, plenty of bruises from the string burning my arm, and a few tears.

            My bow is more than a weapon. It is empowering. Holding it, drawing it, and shooting it all bring a sense of strength. There is little more satisfying than a perfect “10.” Shooting my bow symbolizes a “rough-around-the-edges” part of my personality: not backing down or ever quitting. I can fend for myself.

            Fending for myself applies to my favorite athletic activity as well: basketball. Scuffed and scarred, my basketball shoes show the wear and tear of Varsity girls’ basketball. Among the roughest and most aggressive sports, basketball is a test of will power and physical strength. Now sitting stale in my closet, my shoes remind me of my teammates and our camaraderie every time I see them.

            6 years of basketball have made me an aggressive, assertive, strong person. I don’t back down. I don’t slack off in the gym or in anything else. My shoes are merely a symbol of my all-or-nothing attitude, a token to hard work put in and success achieved. When I put them back on each November, a sense of pride in how far I have come from a relatively shy, reserved child, to a confident, assertive high schooler.

            Lastly, my ring was a cherished gift from my father when I turned 15. Now tarnished silver on the inside with gold bands on both edges and fleur-de-lis embossed into the center portion, it is truly a piece of art. It is elegant. It is refined. It is an item I rarely leave home without.

            The ring is a very different embodiment of my personality. It represents the side of me that enjoys dressing up and going to a nice restaurant, attends Mardi Gras balls in floor length dresses, and spends time at the country club. Refined and elegant, it is the side of me that takes pride in little accomplishments: walking gracefully thanks to ten years of dancing, finally getting my hair to look just the way I planned for homecoming, or not spilling anything on my clothes at dinner. One might call it petty, or up-tight, but mostly, my ring represents the class of a Southern daughter.

            I am not so different than other people. I at least like to see myself as multifaceted and impossible to truly define. People wouldn’t be nearly as intriguing if everyone could be summed up in just a few words. My symbols are displays of that complexity. They show off bits and pieces of my personality and I hold them close because I have attached them, simple, mostly replaceable objects, to pieces of myself. The morals I value, the attributes I take pride in, and an overview of my personality can be gathered from all of the symbols I possess, not only my Jeep, bow, shoes, and ring. I do not think I can define myself, or anyone for that matter. However, my personality is not hidden. Just take a closer look at the objects I hold most dear.