<p>You guys melt my heart :). <3.</p>
<p>Part III</p>
<p>“Bye-bye birdie, wherever you are. You’ve escaped your cage and found your wings.” He barely hears his own words. The wind almost tears the words out his own mouth and sends them speeding past his ears. Somewhere behind him his instructor catches the words.</p>
<p>*The spinning landscape beneath him makes him dizzy. The vortex of wind burns his eyes red. But he isn’t crying. And he doesn’t close his eyes – just as he didn’t close them on the roller coasters he rode decades ago. Someone had told him that closing his eyes would take away the thrill of riding the roller coaster. Someone had let him hold on to his or her hand. It was reassuring. He gripped his left hand with his right and stared at the roofs of houses, which were spinning like toy tops. They reminded him of dreidels. He smiled. The dreidels get bigger, and bigger, and … *</p>
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<p>Your praise makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Well, I already do feel that way, but you make it even warmer and fuzzier :)! I always try to show and not tell with my writing; perhaps that’s how I managed to so well capture the visceral emotion of Meursault/Okonkwo/ultimately anonymous character. </p>
<p>Your quote reminds me of something someone told me … that we all start dying from the day we’re born. That’s definitely one way to look at life; I called it “accumulated damage,” and we die the day the damage is too great to bear, whether it be emotional, or physical, damage. </p>
<p>Speaking of technique, one thing I really tried to highlight in this essay is the alienation of the character from the external world. Whether this is the external world’s fault - whether the external world has alienated itself from people, or whether people have alienated themselves from the external world, is something I explore in my essay … I think I draw the line somewhere down the middle; Meursault’s (I’ll just call him that) alienation is in part due to his affecting of a cold and detached personality, and also in part due to the alienation of the world itself from people (hotel clerk).</p>
<p>I really took a page from the existentialists in this piece - everything from the unnamed main character … well, actually, all the characters are unnamed - to the impersonality of bureaucracy, to Meursault’s rhetoric about other people (that line about empathy - whether feigned or genuine) … to the reduction of Meursault to a person who can only enjoy physical pleasures (sometimes I take them back to my hotel room … yeah … that one awkward line) … and that line about whiskey being his favorite drink … all in imitation of the existentialists! </p>
<p>The piece also makes myriad literary allusions … some of the more obscure ones include a reference to John Donne’s A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning … prize to anyone who finds it. Perhaps most importantly are the personal allusions, that only me and my dear, dear friend can discern and understand :).</p>
<p>Expanding on technique, I write the piece mostly in first-person; two separate people use “I.” Interestingly enough, I subconsciously switched to third-person omniscient in Part III … I’m not sure why … perhaps the third-person better highlights Meursault’s mental insanity … when people think of themselves in third-person, that’s not a good sign (if they’re not actually being facetious) … perhaps it’s a sign that there IS a omniscient and omnipotent being … contrary to Meursault’s speculation regarding an indeterministic/deterministic universe (Part I). But I really don’t know why I switched to third-person … it’s not as if first-person wouldn’t have worked; I don’t actually bring the story up to the moment he crashes into the buildings … I leave it hanging, so first-person would have worked. But subconsciously I switched, and I only noticed afterward … so I wonder what my motivations could have been …</p>