Yesterday in class we examined Donald Barthelme’s “The School” as another potential subject for your analysis. In groups of three and four, you and your classmates considered these elements.
The narrator and the narrative voice
Conflict
A short passage that strikes you as interesting, revealing, or strange
The Narrator and the Narrative Voice
The words and phrases you and your classmates used to describe the narrator, Edgar, and his voice include “awkward,” “casual,” “detached,” “emotionless,” “lack[ing] empathy,” “mixing humor with unease,” “mono[tonus],” not “filter[ing] any of his thoughts.”
Do any of those descriptions seem at odds with the narrator’s words and actions? If so, what might account for that discrepancy?
Conflict
Most of the groups addressed the existential conflict of life versus death. The children want the plants and animals in their classroom to live. They want the Korean orphan, Kim, to live; they want their classmates and relatives to live, but the children are repeatedly faced with death.
A couple of the groups addressed Edgar’s internal conflicts. On group observed that he could not explain death to them because he was trying to protect their innocence. Another group noted that Edgar could not broach the subject of death because of his uncertainty as well as the absurdity of the circumstances: the unbelievably large number of deaths.
Another group pointed to the death of the trees–perhaps due to poor soil–as a particular instance of the existential conflict.
Interesting, Revealing, or Strange
Most of the groups noted the childrens’ request for Edgar to “please make love with Helen” (11) as a strange line. Other lines mentioned include “You know what I mean” (8), “As soon as I saw the puppy I thought, Oh Christ” (9), “And then there was this Korean Orphan” (9), and “is death that which gives meaning to life?” (10).
In this post, I am not including your sentences that demonstrate why those lines are interesting, revealing, or strange, but we will address some of those next Monday when we revisit Barthelme’s story. Remember that they are “triggers for analysis” (Rosenwasser and Stephen 24). That is why your journal assignment from yesterday asked you to repeat the interesting-revealing-strange exercise with the text you have tentatively chosen as the subject of your analysis.
Works Cited
Barthelme, Donald. “The School.” The Best American Short Stories 1975, edited by Martha Foley. Houghton Mifflin, 1975. pp. 8-11.
Rosenwasser, David and Jill Stephen. “‘Interesting,’ ‘Revealing,’ ‘Strange,'” Writing Analytically, 9th edition. Wadsworth/Cengage, 2024. p. 24.
“The School,” originally published in The New Yorker magazine, was one of twenty-one stories chosen for the annual Best American Short Stories anthology in 1975.
This morning in class we will examine Donald Barthelme’s short story “The School,” and in groups of three or four you will address in writing some of the elements of the story that you might explore in an analysis. As I mentioned last week, the essays, article excerpts, and chapters that we have studied thus far are among the texts you may choose as the subject of your analysis, which you will begin drafting next week. “The School” is another text you may analyze.
The elements of Barthelme’s story that you will consider this morning are these:
The narrator and the narrative voice
Conflict
A short passage that strikes you as interesting, revealing, or strange
Whether you analyze Bartheleme’s story or one of our other readings, you will begin your first paragraph with a summary of the text. Remember that a summary is an objective synopsis of a text’s key points. It should be written in third person and present tense. For example, if you choose to analyze “The School,” you might summarize it this way:
Donald Barthelme’s short story “The School” recounts a series of classroom lessons that end with the deaths of plants and animals–deaths that serve as a prelude to the unexplained death of a Korean orphan, followed by the unexpected deaths of classmates and family members.
Notice that the summary above does not comment on the story in any way. What follows the summary will be the beginning of your commentary, or analysis, the thesis statement that offers your particular close reading, or interpretation, of the story. The passage below is the same as the one above, but at the end of it I have added a thesis statement in bold.
Donald Barthelme’s short story “The School” recounts a series of classroom lessons that end with the death of plants and animals–deaths that serve as a prelude to the unexplained death of a Korean orphan, followed by the unexpected deaths of classmates and family members. With conversational narration, accumulation of detail, and a shift in fictional mode, Barthelme deftly depicts the reality of the fleeting nature of life, even as the story itself veers from reality.
If were to continue to write the analysis that I began in the previous paragraph, I would follow that opening paragraph with body paragraphs that address each of the three story elements that I include in my thesis: (1) conversational narration, (2) accumulation of detail, and (3) shift in fictional mode.
By University of Houston [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
As an introduction to Donald Barthelme, whose fiction we will examine in class tomorrow, read this biographical sketch. After you read the sketch, compose a one- or two-paragraph journal entry that includes what you have learned about his writing style, and what you have learned about readers’ and critics’ mixed responses to his fiction.
Bonus Assignment Follow-Up
Thanks to those of you who took advantage of yesterday’s bonus assignment: Annaliese Abboud, Gi Amitrano, Cameron Anderson, Adrienne Brown, Kylie Bussell, Myra Chatwal, Reese Danback, Amanda Franco, Dorian Grosber, Garrett Hickey, Raven Houston, Jorja Mangeot, Mariana Pavajeau, Heloise Richer, Ellie Tejada, and Bailey Upchurch.
Each of the two literacy narratives listed below were named by more than one student as the narrative with the most effective title. Four students named “G is for Grandma“; two students named “Yo Soy Hockey.”
A title should be intriguing and revealing (as well as relevant), but a title that reveals too much robs the writing of its intrigue. With that in mind, review the titles above and ask yourself whether any of them reveal too much?
A Lesson in Less is More
In one of last Friday’s Scrabble games, the one pictured above, the members of team one realized that with the a in age, they could play the letters v, r, i, o, u, and s to spell various. (Note that the p was later added above age.) Playing six letters to form a three-syllable, seven-letter word is an appealing move, especially if it means ridding yourself of undesirable letters, such as v, i, and u–though a u is highly desirable if the q has not been played. However, playing various as team one played in the game above comes with a risk: the placement of the word set up team two to play on the triple-word square, which they did. By playing the four letters m, o, t, and e, team two scored a double-triple through parallel play, forming three words: mote (a tiny piece of substance), mu (a Greek letter), and os (a bone). Various, with its i on a triple letter square earned team one twelve points. The double-triple mote and mu with os earned team two thirty-two points. Team one earned an average of two points per letter played; team two earned an average of eight points per letter played, evidence that less is more.
Next Up
In class on Wednesday, we will read and discuss one of Donald Barthelme’s short stories. That story and the texts we have studied thus far in English 1103–“MeTalk Pretty One Day,” “The Day Language Came into Life,” the excerpt from the first chapter of To Kill a Mockingbird,” and the excerpt from “The Falling Man”–are among the pieces of writing that may serve as the subject of your upcoming analysis. Before you begin drafting that assignment on Wednesday, September 24, we will examine another text that may serve as your subject.
This morning in class you will compose a response to a classmate’s literacy narrative.
Directions
Go to the class blog page, and click on the link for the blog of the of classmate whose name follows yours on the roster. If you are last on the list, go to the blog of the student whose name is first on the list.
If the student’s blog is not accessible, choose another student’s literacy narrative for your response.
Read the classmate’s narrative and compose a handwritten response (75 words, minimum) that addresses one or more of these elements: the title, vivid details, scene and summary, dialogue, the image documenting part of the writing process away from the screen, the embedded link to a relevant website.
Does the blog post include an image that documents part of the blogger’s writing process away from the screen? ____ (yes or no)
Does the post include a relevant embedded link? _____ (yes or no)
After you have composed your handwritten response, review the section of Writing Analytically devoted to basic writing errors, or BWEs (426-44), and correct any that you can identify in your blog response.
Type your response as a comment for the blogger. You should see a leave comment/reply option at the top or bottom of the post. If you do not see that option, click on the title of the blog post, and scroll down. You should then see leave comment/reply.
If you do not think that you will have time to type and post your handwritten comment before the end of class, take a picture of your handwritten response. That will enable you to submit your worksheet at the end of class and post your comment afterward.
Submit this sheet at the end of class today. You will submit this paper copy of your comment because the blogger may not choose to make your comment visible. You will receive credit for this assignment only if you submit this sheet at the end of class today.
If you complete this assignment before the end of class, devote the remainder of the period to one of the following: (1) reading and commenting on other classmates’ literacy narratives, (2) drafting a blog post based on one or more of your Scrabble debriefings, (2) reviewing your reading handouts and determining which one might serve as the subject of your upcoming analysis.
What makes a title effective? That’s an important question to consider since the title contains the first words of yours that a reader will encounter. First, it should be descriptive; it should evoke an image in the reader’s mind. It should also be relevant to your subject; it should convey something about the writing to follow. Lastly, it should be intriguing; it should create in the reader a desire to keep reading. With those traits in mind, review the titles of your classmates’ literacy listed below. Which of these is most effective and why?
“Adapting to a New System”
“Breaking Language Barriers: How I Gained Confidence in Myself”
“Calmáte: A Summer so Fast”
“Challenges You Face”
“Error to Success”
“Finding My Voice with Spanish”
“From Panic to Proficiency”
“From Stumbling to Strength”
“From Terror to Hero”
“Fruitful Smells of Learning”
“G is for Grandma”
“Growing as a Writer”
“Hooked on a Book”
“If You Read, You will Succeed”
“Inside Look into Dyslexia”
“The Importance of Life”
“An Involved Teacher”
“The Journey of the Greatest Story”
“Journey to Literacy”
“The Language Barrier”
“Learning Spanish”
“Learning to Write”
“Lessons from Mr. Brady”
“Looking Back on Reading and Writing Skills”
“Mindset in Motion”
“Morning, Morning!”
“My Battle with Reading”
“My Submergence into the Unknown Realm of Words”
“One, Two, Three, Four, Five Stars for You!”
“The Pen to Paper Routine”
“Pushing through the Brick Wall”
“Removing the Mask”
“Research Paper to Passion”
“Ti Amo: The Unknown Leads to Closure Through Language”
“Who is Most Important to You?”
“Yo Soy Hockey”
Bonus Assignment Opportunity
Directions
Determine which of the titles you deem most effective.
Compose a comment of one complete sentence or more that includes (1) the title enclosed in quotation marks, and (2) a brief explanation of its effectiveness.
Post your comment as a reply to this blog entry no later than 5 p.m. today, Monday, September 15. (To post your comment, click on the post’s title, and scroll down to the bottom of the page. You will then see the image of an airmail envelope with a leave comment option.)
I will approve your responses (make your comments visible) after the 5 p.m. deadline. Commenters will earn a bonus assignment credit in the course work/short assignments category.
Next Up
In class on Wednesday, we will read a short story by Donald Barthelme. As an introduction to him and his fiction, read this biographical sketch. After you read the sketch, compose a one- or two-paragraph journal entry that includes (1) what you have learned about his writing style, and (2) what you have learned about readers’ and critics’ mixed responses to his writing.
In the previous weeks, I published blog posts featuring the playable two-letter words that begin with a, b, d, e, f, g, h, i, j, k, and l. Today’s post features the playable two-letter words beginning with m, n, o, and p. Learning these two-letter words, as well as the other two-letter words in the alphabet, will enable you to see more options for play and increase the number of points you earn in a single turn.
M, by the way, is the most versatile consonant. In the first position, m pairs with every vowel: ma, me, mi, mo, mu, and also my. In the second position, m pairs with every vowel except i: am, em, om, um.
For Monday, read the section of Writing Analytically devoted to “Nine Basic Writing Errors” (424-44). In class, you will read a designated classmate’s literacy narrative on his or her blog, and compose a response that you will submit as a comment on the writer’s post. Bring your laptop to class, and also be sure to bring Writing Analytically and your journal with your completed exercise on Tom Junod‘s “The Falling Man.” Do not remove the exercise from your journal before class. I will not collect the assignment; I may simply conduct a check for it while you and your classmates are working on your blog exercise.
Yesterday in class, before you began composing your reflection, we examined the beginning of Tom Junod‘s article “The Falling Man,” published in Esquire magazine two years after 9-11. One of the elements that we considered–and one that I asked you to address later in your journal–is the unusually long first paragraph.
The authors of Writing Analytically recommend that “[i]f you find a paragraph growing longer than half a page–particularly if it is your opening or second paragraph–find a place to make a paragraph break” (Rosenwasser and Stephen 308). Junod does not follow that advice. He opts instead to open his article with a paragraph of more than four hundred words.
If Junod had chosen to divide the first paragraph, where might he have divided it?
Junod might have started a second paragraph with the words “[i]n all the other pictures,” because there he shifts the focus from the Falling Man to the photographs of other people who jumped from the Twin Towers. An opportunity for a third paragraph comes with the words “[t]he man in the picture, by contrast,” where Junod turns his attention back to the Falling Man. And he might have begun a fourth paragraph with “[s]ome people who look at the picture,” because there he shifts to viewers’ perceptions of the Falling Man.
Generally, one hundred to one hundred and fifty words is a suitable paragraph length. As a rule, you should begin a new paragraph whenyou present a new idea or point. If you have an extended idea that spans multiple paragraphs, each new point within that idea should have its own paragraph. But the first paragraph of “The Falling Man” defies convention. For Junod, choosing not to divide the first paragraph creates an unbroken movement that parallels the unbroken downward flight of his subject, the Falling Man. Outside of the photograph, “he drops and keeps dropping until he disappears.” With “disappears,” the last word of the paragraph,” the Falling Man disappears from the page, and Tom Junod turns to the photographer, whom we learn later in the essay is Richard Drew.
Unless you subscribe to Esquire, the magazine’s paywall will deny you access to the full text of “The Falling Man”; but if you’re interested in reading it in full, you can access it through the HPU Library site by following these steps:
Today we will examine an excerpt from the magazine article “The Falling Man,” by Tom Junod, which I will distribute at the beginning of class. Afterward, you will compose a short reflective essay focusing on the process of planning, drafting, and revising your literacy narrative. If you are still in the process of completing your essay (since you have until Friday morning’s hard deadline to post it), your reflection will address your work in progress. Instructions for your reflective essay are included below.
Directions: Compose a short reflective essay that documents the processes of planning, drafting, and revising your literacy narrative. Questions to consider include the ones listed on the back of this handout. You don’t need to address all the questions. Focus on the ones whose answers reveal the most about your work.
Include in your reflection a minimum of one relevant quotation from the textbook, Writing Analytically, from the section “On Keeping a Writer’s Notebook” or from “Writing from Life: The Personal Essay.” Introduce your quotation with a signal phrase and follow it with a parenthetical citation. At the end of your essay, include the heading “Work Cited,” followed by your work cited entry. (See the models on the below.)
Remember that the writing that follows the quotation should demonstrate its relevance. Although you are required to include a quotation, its presence in your writing shouldn’t seem obligatory. In other words, the quotation shouldn’t appear to be there simply because you were required to include it.
Example: When I began planning my literacy narrative, I was skeptical of the assertion that “the more you write, the more you’ll find yourself noticing, and thus the more you’ll have to say” (Rosenwasser and Stephen 157). However, as I wrote in my notebook about the difficulty of holding a page of newspaper when I was a preschooler, I once again saw how those long, thin sheets of newsprint would drape over me. Then I saw my parents holding their pages of newspaper with ease, and I was back in the den with them—where I was more than fifty years ago—marveling at their ability to read.
A variation on the previous option is integrating a quotation that serves as an epigraph in Writing Analytically. If you quote an epigraph, which is a quote at the beginning of a book or book section, intended to suggest its theme, you are presenting an indirect quotation.
Example: In The Situation and the Story, memoirist Vivian Gornick observes: “What happened to the writer is not what matters; what matters is the large sense that the writer is able to make of what happened” (qtd. in Rosenwasser and Stephen). That notion of what matters became apparent to me as I drafted the conclusion of my essay. The story itself is not dramatic but the bridge it delineates—the one that connects my preliterate self to my reading self—signifies a vital crossing point in my life.
The words that I quote are Vivian Gornick’s, but the source is the textbook Writing Analytically. That is why the parenthetical citation begins with qtd. in, to indicate that the words are quoted in David Rosenwasser and Jill Stephen’s book.
Rosenwasser, David and Jill Stephen. “On Keeping a Writer’s Notebook.” Writing Analytically, 9th edition. Wadsworth/Cengage, 2024. pp. 157-58.
Rosenwasser, David and Jill Stephen. “Writing from Life: The Personal Essay.” Writing Analytically, 9th edition. Wadsworth/Cengage, 2024. pp. 161-65.
Questions to Consider
You don’t need to address all the questions that follow. Focus on the ones whose answers reveal the most about your work.
When you began transferring the words from your handwritten draft onto the screen of your laptop or tablet, what did you observe about the process?
What aspect of the writing seemed the most challenging? Determining the focus of your narrative? Developing the story? Beginning a scene? Introducing dialogue? Crafting the conclusion? Why did that aspect of the writing seem the most challenging?
Did you change the subject of your narrative? If so, what was the original subject? What did you change it to? Why?
Did you change the organization of the narrative? For example, did you initially present the story chronologically, then begin in the present and move to flashback?
Did any of the sample essays we examined (“Me Talk Pretty One Day,” “The Day Language Came into My Life,” “A Bridge to Words,” “Creativity is Key,” “Making a Speech: Worst Nightmare to Best Experience”) prove helpful as a model? If so, how?
What do you consider the strongest element of your literacy narrative?
What is the title, and at what point in the process did you decide on it? Did you change the title during the writing process? If so, what was the original title?
What image did you include in your blog that documents part of your writing process away from the screen? Why did you choose that particular image?
What relevant website did you link to your blog post. Why is that particular site relevant to your narrative?
Journal Exercise
If you reach a stopping point in your reflective writing before the end of the class period, you should begin the journal exercise that I distribuetd in class. Whether you begin the exercise in class today or start it later, you should complete it in your journal before class on Monday, September 15. If you were absent today or misplace your handout, refer to the directions below.
Journal Exercise Directions
Read “How Long?: Paragraphs, Readers, and Writers” in Writing Analytically (308).
Compose a one- or two-paragraph journal entry about the excerpt from “The Falling Man,” in which you examine the first paragraph and consider why Tom Junod may have chosen to defy convention and expand his paragraph into one of more than four-hundred words.
In your journal entry, quote a phrase or sentence from “How Long?: Paragraphs, Readers, and Writers.”
Introduce your quotation with a signal phrase and follow it with a parenthetical citation. Example: Tom Junod begins “The Falling Man” with a paragraph of more than four-hundred words, even though “[l]ong paragraphs are daunting for both readers and writers” (Rosenwasser and Stephen 308).
At the end of your journal entry, include the header “Work Cited,” followed by an entry for “How Long?: Paragraphs, Readers, and Writers.” See the sample below.
You are not required to quote “The Falling Man” in your journal entry, but if you do, include a works cited entry for Junod’s article as well. Note that if you quote “The Falling Man” in addition to Writing Analytically, the word “works,” not “work” should appear in your header because you are citing more than one work.
Rosenwasser, David and Jill Stephen. “How Long?: Paragraphs, Readers, and Writers.” Writing Analytically, 9th edition. Wadsworth/Cengage, 2024. p. 308.
Note that the entries above are block style for optimum appearance in the WordPress platform. The works cited entries in your handwritten assignments and in the papers you submit to Blackboard ahould have hanging indents. In other words, the first line is flush left and any subsequent lines are indented five spaces or one-half inch.
Yesterday in class, we examined the model literacy narrative “A Bridge to Words,” and you and two or three of your classmates collaboratively composed a piece of writing that addressed these elements of the essay:
Appositives
Scene
Figurative language
Gaps in memory/what the narrator doesn’t know
The story’s significance, how the writer conveys it subtly
The sections that follow focus on the elements listed above, ones you should aim to include as you continue to revise your own literacy narrative.
Appositives
Using an appositive–a group of words that renames or defines a noun or noun phrase–not only helps you develop your writing but also enables readers to better relate to your writing through the specifics that the appostives offer. Examine each of the four passages below, and note how each appositive expands on the ideas presented in the noun, the noun phrase, or the noun clause that precedes it.
Early in the essay, I write that “[m]y sister, who was three years older, had her very own news source, The Mini Page, a four-page miniature paper that arrived at our house as an insert in the Sunday edition (par. 2).
I incude another appositive to specify the gesture and the words of a family member: “I remember only the gesture and the words: someone handing me the Sunday comics and saying, “You can read part of the funny page, too. You can read Henry” (par. 3).
When I turn to an appositive again, I do so define a term that may be unfamiliar to some readers: “As the last word in the first line, ‘abhors’ serves as the lead-in to an enjambment: the continuation of a sentence or clause in a line break” (par. 7).
Lastly, I fashion an appostive in the conclusion to convey the significance of the memories I have recounted: “The former wakes and stretches out in my mind as a bridge to the latter: a spot in the world of words I’ve inhabited ever since” (par. 8).
Scene
With the words, “[f]inally, one Sunday,” I shift from summary to scene for the first time (par. 3). The previous paragraphs describe the reading ritual that occurred every Sunday.
Figurative Language
Instances of figurative language in the narrative include “as if covered by a shroud” (par. 1), “like links in a chain” (par. 7), and an extended metaphor in the conclusion, where I personify the comic strip Henry and The Golden Book of Fun and Nonsense, depicting them as slumbering in my brain:
“Perhaps rereading Art Spiegelman’s graphic memoir Maus with my students has aroused the wordless Henry and the word-filled Golden Book of Fun and Nonsense from the corner of my brain where they’ve slumbered. The former wakes and stretches out in my mind as a bridge to the latter: a spot in the world of words I’ve inhabited ever since” (par. 8).
Hillaire Belloc’s “Rebecca,” illustrated by Alice and Martin Provensen
Gaps in the Writer’s Memory as Part of the Narrative
Twice in the essay, I use a strategy employed by Helen Keller in “The Day Language Came into My Life,” specificaly, I note what I cannot recollect. I first use that strategy when I write, “Whether it was one of my parents or my sister, I don’t know” (par. 3). I draw on it again when I write, “Why these particular early memories visit me now, I don’t know” (par. 8).
Conveying the Story’s Significance
As I noted in class, there are a number of ways that I convey the significance of my experience without stating explicitly that the events were noteworthy. The vivid details of the narrative demonstrate their importance. Those details that are vivid in my mind are subsequently lifelike on the page because their significance permeates them. Some groups offered as examples details about my sister, Jo, reading to me from The Golden Book of Fun and Nonsense. One group noted “the word ‘abhors’ . . . which appealed to me” (par. 7). Another group mentioned my “uncontrollable giggles” (par. 7).
As you revise, review these notes and incorporate some of these elements into your own literacy narrative.
In class on Wednesday, you will compose a short reflective essay focusing on the process of planning, drafting, and revising your literacy narrative. If you are still in the process of completing your essay on Wednesday (since you have until Friday morning’s hard deadline to post it) your reflection will address your work in progress. Before tomorrow’s class, be sure to complete the short reading assignments in Writing Analytically as well as the accompanying planning exercise in your journal. The details are outlined in yesterday’s blog post.
Hillaire Belloc’s “Rebecca,” illustrated by Alice and Martin Provensen
Today in class, we will examine the model literacy narrative “A Bridge to Words,” which you read for today, and you and two or three of your classmates will collaboratively compose a piece of writing that addresses these elements of the essay:
Appositives
Scene
Figurative language
Gaps in memory/what the narrator doesn’t know
The story’s significance, how the writer conveys it subtly
As you continue to revise, consider the role of those elements your own literacy narrative. All of them may not figure in your own story, but scene, at least a brief one, and a sense of the story’s significance are vital. Keep in mind that the story’s significance should be conveyed subtly. Do not tell the reader that the the event was significant, and don’t resort to such trite statements as it made me the person I am today.
A Bridge to Words
To a small child, the pages of a newspaper are enormous. Looking far back through the years, I see myself, not yet school age, trying to hold up those long, thin sheets of newsprint, only to find myself draped in them, as if covered by a shroud. Of course, back then, my inability to hold a newspaper properly was of little consequence. Even if I could have turned the pages as gracefully as my parents did, I couldn’t decipher the black marks on the page; thus, my family’s ritual reading of the newspaper separated them from me. As the youngest and the only one who couldn’t read, I was left alone on the perimeter to observe. My family’s world of written words was impenetrable; I could only look over their shoulders and try to imagine the places where all those black marks on the page had carried them—these people, my kin, who had clearly forgotten that I was in the room.
My sister, who was three years older, had her very own news source: The Mini Page, a four-page miniature paper that arrived at our house as an insert in the Sunday edition. While our parents sat in their easy chairs poring over the state and local news, my sister, Jo, perched at the drop-front desk and occupied herself with articles, puzzles, and connect-the-dots.
Finally, one Sunday, someone noticed me on the margin and led me into our family’s reading circle. Whether it was one of my parents or my sister, I don’t know. I remember only the gesture and the words: someone handing me the Sunday comics and saying, “You can read part of the funny pages, too. You can read Henry.”
I took the giant page and laid it flat in the middle of the oval, braided rug on the floor of the den. Once I situated the page, I lay on top of it with my eyes just inches above the panels of the comic strip. To my parents, my prone position was a source of amusement, but for me it was simply a practical solution. How else was someone so small supposed to manage such a large piece of paper?
As I lay on the floor and looked at the comic strip’s panels, I realized what the voice had meant. I could “read” Henry, the comic with the bald boy in a red shirt, because it consisted entirely of pictures. In between panels of Henry walking, there were panels of him standing still, scratching his hairless head. I didn’t find Henry funny at all. I wondered how that pale forerunner of Charlie Brown had earned a prime spot in the funnies. Still, I was glad he was there. He was the bridge that led me to the written word.
Reading the wordless comic strip Henry for the first time was the beginning of a years-long habit of stretching out on the floor with newspapers and large books—not thick ones but ones that were tall and wide, among them one of my childhood favorites: The Golden Book of Fun and Nonsense. My sister and I spent hours lying on our bedroom floor, the pink shag carpet tickling our legs as we delighted in the antics of Rebecca, the mischievous title character of one of the poems.
Carl Thomas Anderson’s comic strip character Henry
“Rebecca”—which my sister read to me before I could read it myself—introduced me to the word “abhors,” the very sound of which appealed to me. Sometimes before Jo had finished reading the opening lines, my uncontrollable giggles collided with her perfect mock-serious delivery. As the last word in the first line, “abhors” serves as a lead-in to an enjambment: the continuation of a sentence or clause in a line break. It would be years before I learned the term “enjambment,” but I was immediately swept away by its effect in the opening lines: “A trick that everyone abhors/ In Little Girls is Slamming Doors” (Belloc 61). The first line lured me into the second one, and so on and so on. I was drawn both to the individual word “abhors”—with its side-by-side “b” and “h,” rare in English—and the way the words joined, like links in a chain, to yank me giggling through Rebecca’s cautionary tale:
It happened that a marble bust Of Abraham was standing just Above the door this little lamb Had carefully prepared to slam, And down it came! It knocked her flat! It laid her out! She looked like that.
Her funeral sermon (which was long And followed by a sacred song) Mentioned her virtues, it is true, But dwelt upon her vices too, And showed the dreadful end of one Who goes and slams the door for fun. (61)
Why these particular early memories visit me now, I don’t know. Perhaps rereading Art Spiegelman’s graphic memoir Maus with my students has roused the wordless Henry and the word-filled Golden Book of Fun and Nonsense from the corner of my brain where they’ve slumbered. The former wakes and stretches out in my mind as a bridge to the latter: a spot in the world of words I’ve inhabited ever since.
In the second half of today’s class, I will take you through the steps posting your literacy narrative to Blackboard and WordPress. If you are absent from class or need a review, watch these YouTube videos on submitting an assignment to Blackboard and publishing a post on WordPress.
Contractions: Are They or aren’t They Permissible?
It isn’t surprising that contractions, such as “couldn’t” for “could not,” appear in “A Bridge to Words” because it’s a personal narrative with a conversational voice. But sometimes students are uncertain whether they should use contractions in traditional academic assignments, ones of a more formal nature, such as the other major writing assignments you will produce for English 1103.
Sometimes students are told that they can’t cannot use contractions in formal writing, but MLA style does permit their use. The MLA Style Center notes, “there is nothing inherently incorrect about contractions.” But the website goes on to state that in some contexts and for reasons of clarity, avoiding contractions may be preferable. In your writing assignments for English 1103, use contractions sparingly. Your literacy narratives are an exception to that rule because of their personal nature.
Some professors may prohibit the use of contractions in writing assignments. If you’re uncertain whether a professor permits them, ask.
Rosenwasser, David and Jill Stephen. Writing Analytically, 9th edition. Wadsworth/Cengage, 2024.
Writing Analytically
For Wednesday, read “On Keeping a Writer’s Notebook” (157-58) and “Writing from Life: The Personal Essay” (161-64). Those sections of the textbook serve as companion pieces to your writing thus far in English 1103, and reading and taking notes on those sections will prepare you to compose part of the reflective essay you will write in class on Wednesday.
After you have read and taken notes on “On Keeping a Writer’s Notebook” and “Writing from Life: The Personal Essay,” choose a phrase, clause, or sentence relevant to your writing process and draft in your journal a short passage that connects that quotation to your writing. That passage will serve as part of your reflection. Here are the instructions that will be included on the handout that I distribute on Wednesday:
Directions
Include in your reflection a minimum of one relevant quotation from the textbook, Writing Analytically, from the section “On Keeping a Writer’s Notebook” or from “Writing from Life: The Personal Essay.” Introduce your quotation with a signal phrase and follow it with a parenthetical citation.
Remember that the writing that follows the quotation should demonstrate its relevance. Although you are required to include a quotation, its presence in your writing shouldn’t seem obligatory. In other words, the quotation shouldn’t appear to be there simply because you were required to include it.
Example
When I began planning my literacy narrative, I was skeptical of the assertion that “the more you write, the more you’ll find yourself noticing, and thus the more you’ll have to say” (Rosenwasser and Stephen 157). However, as I wrote in my notebook about the difficulty of holding a page of newspaper when I was a preschooler, I once again saw how those long, thin sheets of newsprint would drape over me. Then I saw my parents holding their pages of newspaper with ease, and I was back in the den with them—where I was more than fifty years ago—marveling at their ability to read.
A variation on the previous option is integrating a quotation that serves as an epigraph in Writing Analytically. If you quote an epigraph, which is a quote at the beginning of a book or book section, intended to suggest its theme, you are presenting an indirect quotation.
Example
In The Situation and the Story, memoirist Vivian Gornick observes: “What happened to the writer is not what matters; what matters is the large sense that the writer is able to make of what happened” (qtd. in Rosenwasser and Stephen). That notion of what matters became apparent to me as I drafted the conclusion of my essay. The story itself is not dramatic but the bridge it delineates—the one that connects my preliterate self to my reading self—signifies a vital crossing point in my life.
The words that I quote are Vivian Gornick’s, but the source is the textbook Writing Analytically. That is why the parenthetical citation begins with qtd. in, to indicate that the words are quoted in David Rosenwasser and Jill Stephen’s book.
At the end of your reflective writing, you will include a work cited entry for the section of the textbook that you quoted. See the samples below.
Sample Works Cited Entries
Rosenwasser, David and Jill Stephen. “On Keeping a Writer’s Notebook.” Writing Analytically, 9th edition. Wadsworth/Cengage, 2024. pp. 157-58.
Rosenwasser, David and Jill Stephen. “Writing from Life: The Personal Essay.” Writing Analytically, 9th edition. Wadsworth/Cengage, 2024. pp. 161-65.
Next Up
In class on Wednesday, you will compose a short reflective essay focusing on the process of planning, drafting, and revising your literacy narrative. If you are still in the process of completing your essay on Wednesday (since you have until Friday morning’s hard deadline to post it) your reflection will address your work in progress.
Previously, I published a blog post featuring playable two-letter words beginning with a, as well as a blog post featuring playable two-letter words beginning with b, d, and e. Today’ s blog post features playable two-letter words beginning with f, g, h, i, j, k, and l. Learning these two-letter words, as well as the other two-letter words in the alphabet, will enable you to see more options for play and may increase the number of points you earn in a single turn.
fa: a tone on the diatonic scale
fe: a Hebrew letter
gi: a white garment worn in martial arts
go: a Japanese board game
ha: used to express surprise
he: a pronoun signifying a male
hi: an expression of greeting
hm: used to express consideration
ho: used to express surprise
id: the least censored part of the three-part psyche
if: a possibility
in: to harvest (a verb, takes -s, -ed, -ing)
is: the third-person singular present form of “to be”
it: a neuter pronoun
jo: a sweetheart
ka: the spiritual self in ancient Egyptian spirituality
ki: the vital life force in Chinese spirituality (also qi)
Jane Lucas 