The Diverse Writing Styles of Hemingway and Fitzgerald

In the early-to mid-1900s, two groundbreaking writers by the names of Ernest Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald published multiple successful pieces featuring very different writing techniques and themes. While Hemingway’s writing featured extremely serious and dark moods, Fitzgerald’s focused more on the cheerful and celebratory experiences in life. First, I am going to discuss the miserably depressing and down-right sorrowful stories by Ernest Hemingway. The best way to describe his writing style is gloomy and humorless; most of his pieces contained very stern situations. And the best way to describe the author is…disturbed. Unlike Fitzgerald, Hemingway’s lifestyle was quite plain and sad. He never seemed to identify or enjoy the little things in life, hence why his stories were so dull. Fitzgerald, his fame-rising opponent, seemed to engage in fun-filled activities as often as possible. Now isn’t that the kind of life most people would embrace happily? Poor Hemingway… Hemingway expressed his blue feelings in many of his pieces, including “Indian Camp”. This particular short-story is about a young boy accompanying his father, the local physician, as he births a baby. When they arrive, the child’s uncle is already there, and offers his father a cigar, a usual tradition for the birth of new life. Inside the cabin, he aids his father, who performs multiple procedures on the wailing mother in labor. The child notices the woman’s husband on the top bunk, who has turned to face the wall. The spouse is later discovered to have slit his own throat, in an attempt to commit suicide. Through multiple uses of symbolism throughout the story, we later are able to identify that the uncle, who may or may not have raped her, is the true father of the newborn baby, a key reason her partner killed himself. He was tormented due to the fact he had to listen to his wife scream in agonizing pain, over something he could not have prevented. This story truly depicts Hemingway’s gut-wrenching emotions, which also lead up to the author taking his own life. These dark writing topics definitely resemble Hemingway’s real feelings and focus on serious life lessons, unlike Fitzgerald’s who couldn’t have been more dissimilar. Fitzgerald’s writing focused on love, youth, and celebrating every moment life has to offer, no matter what the consequences may be. Fitzgerald himself took part in many “extra-curricular” activities which involved evenings of parties and nightlife fraternizing. Doesn’t that sound fun? The author depicted those happy and cheerful emotions in many stories including, “Bernice Bobs Her Hair”, where a boring and unadorned girl changes her appearance and attitude towards eligible bachelors, with the help of her vindictive and seductive cousin, Marjorie. After eventually winning the heart of multiple wealthy men, Marjorie grows a rage of jealousy over Bernice’s growing popularity at the nightly soirees? Bernice is forced to bob her hair at the hand of an envious Marjorie and in return, dismembers her luscious golden braids. While teaching a somewhat comical lesson about being yourself and sympathetic to others, Fitzgerald manages to captivate the audience using amusing tones and vocabulary. As you can see, although these two authors both were able to gain fame and abundant success, there writing styles couldn’t have been more diverse. This also caused heated feuds and competitions between the two. Hemingway struggled to write decent, creative and good pieces that often took months to complete, while Fitzgerald on the other hand, would “party ‘til he dropped” and the extravagant, beautiful stories would just flow out of his brain, without any effort. But, all of the fighting doesn’t even matter; what matters is the readers personal preference. Some may enjoy the eerie moods of Hemingway, while others prefer the extravagant themes Fitzgerald’s stories have to offer; and to this day, their works are still being read. Their creative writings will live on forever, their immortal brilliance to dazzle scholars and pupils yet to be born.

Jaws

The beast glides elegantly through the waves
Prepared to take a life away

The currents crash upon the sand
The tourists clueless of what's at hand

Its stomach roars like a lion beast
Anguished with hunger, ready for a feast

Approaching an innocent boy, ready to strike
Its razor sharp teeth, as ragged as knives

Sinking it's jaws in the young child's skin
The fish has committed the ultimate sin

Taking a life, for its own ungodly pleasure
A life that was thought to be a precious treasure

Bodily fluids flow like a river
The teeth sharp as needles, pierce into his liver

What's done is done, the shark has slaughtered
And all that's left is blood in the water

Creative Piece

JAWS: Chapter Two

The Shark’s Point of View

                I find myself drifting closer to shore, sensing another set of prey that has fallen into my merciless trap. Strangely enough, my stomach still bothers me, the young woman from dawn not completely distinguishing my ruthless hunger.

                The scent of human blood draws me to him; a petite boy with a small gash on his knee, possibly from the jagged grains of sand that make up the densely populated beach. Is this worth it? Risking my existence for a rapid snack; aware that the dozens of other swimmers, stroking leisurely through the waves, may witness my attack. The water turning n  alarming bright red, causing the bystanders into a panic, as they urgently hurry to shore. One glance of a shark my size would force the beaches to eventually be shut down, then my food source will completely vanish; I will most likely die of starvation.

                And this innocent child, what will become of his family? How will they leave on, after their most prized possession is brutally devoured by a mindless animal. Is that what I am? An animal? I’m starting to believe so; my actions in the past few hours have been heartless and pure iniquity. I am positively damned to hell, for I have not only taken an innocent life for my own pleasure and enjoyment, but broken the most sacred law in the food chain. I am a predator; not a killer.

                But I am unable to change the past and what’s done is done. I gradually approach the youthful fellow, not wanting to warn him of my presence or scare him off. His legs dangle from a bright yellow raft, causing my mouth to water. I soon find enough strength to take a small nibble, my teeth stabbing through his left foot. He tries to scream for assistance, but I forcefully drag him beneath the surface, the sound of his cries drowned out by bubbles and splashes.

                I observe a couple of teenagers back away from the area, blood now spurting from his wounds. I suddenly hear a lifeguard blow his whistle, having finally seen the boy’s fight for survival. The yellow raft pops, perhaps my pointed teeth putting enough pressure on the tube, for it to explode. I see many concerned mothers carry their loved ones to safety, the sound of terror obvious in their high-pitched shrieks.

                I quickly flee the scene, the struggling boy, still jammed in my mouth. As I glide away, a trail of his blood pours behind me. Before I can escape, out of the corner of my eye I see that the body of water is now lifeless, not a single soul still in the water. All that occupies the shore is a middle-aged woman who calls out for her son. An adolescent who will never again feel the warmth of his mother’s hug, who will never experience their first kiss, who will never be able to graduate high school, all because of my actions. All because I chose to become a cruel, man-eating machine. 

Point Of View

Kyle Roberts

January 23, 2013                                   JAWS: From the Shark’s Perspective

Point Of View

                I set out for prey, intending to find a food source that would reduce the undeniable hunger and pain twisting in my stomach. The moon begins to rise, its radiance and reflection glistening on my skin as glide through the crashing waves. There is a slight breeze blowing through the air, bringing a chill to my dorsal fin, which sashays through the murky ocean.

                I sense her paddling out to sea, the noise bouncing in and out of my eardrum; her delicate splashing and movements leading me to her silky white figure. Her legs dangle, from above, as if they were bait perched atop the surface, hanging from a silver hook. A mouthwatering sensation occurs in my mouth, her beautiful and leisurely movements testing my basic instincts; my appetite ferociously growls with agony and despair.

                I dive through the upcoming waves, now prepared to take a bite, aware of the life-taunting eternity and consequences that await me. I have no other choice; the lack of fish inhabitants in the cold and crystal clear waters of Amity Island has caused the shark population to decrease drastically. As far as I know, I am the only one left. Once the blood reaches my taste buds, I will develop a liking for human flesh, and be forced to continue hunting and devouring innocent people, spending their vacation on the island paradise.

What have I succumbed to? Is this really the path I desire to take? My hunger gets the best of me and I cautiously brush against her foot, not wanting to warn her of my presence. If she becomes startled, she will positively swim back to the shore; humans are frightened quite easily. She treads in place, floating with the current drawing her out to sea. I open my bulky set of jaws and sink my razor sharp teeth deep into her leg; tugging her beneath the water. I can feel her struggling, but her blood has already reached the tip of my tongue, and I have no intention of releasing my grasp. She begins to thrash around anxiously, pounding her clenched fists  against my rough, strapping build.

The sound of her blood-curdling screams are subtly heard from above the surface, regretful cries that I will forever her in my most terrible nightmares. I push my teeth deeper into her bones, her skin tearing apart, blood flowing immensely from the pain stricken wound. I begin to masticate, her abdomen slowly sinking into my mouth. I chew with great force, her punches growing weak and feeble.

The vibration patterns of her slamming against the sea shows signs of tiredness; I suppose the tug of war battle is coming to an end. I am finally able to swallow her legs, the meat diminishing into my digestive system, relieving my stomach of its agonizing starvation. My teeth are still pressed into her waist; I suppose it may feel like thousands of ragged needles piercing through her flesh. The victim finally accepts her fate, and her life is obsolete with one last bite.

My actions, although regretful, are somehow satisfying. I am willing to repeat my actions as many times needed, for I haven’t felt such pleasure and empowering emotions in quite some time. Amity Island will be my feeding ground; the sensational feeling in my stomach is delightful. I flee from the crime scene, ready for morning to come. Ready for the fiery shine of sunlight to awaken me come tomorrow morning, and the oblivious tourists to enter the sea, stepping right into my trap.

Theme Essay

Overcoming Depression 

How would you cope with the feeling of misery and secrecy? How would you deal with the gut wrenching emotions of misery and gloominess? How would you feel if you were completely alone, with no one to confide in? In the novel Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson, Melinda Sardino is attempting to conquer her grief and sadness, after experiencing a horrific incident over the summer. She has become silent and glum, with no one willing to facilitate her grief. Overcoming depression is a major theme in Speak, as well as many other dramatic books and stories.

 Overcoming sadness is the theme of the novel, for Melinda must deal with the fact she was raped and sexually assaulted while attending a party, and now has no one she trusts to reveal the unpleasant event to. After calling the police, who arrested nearly everyone drinking underage at the celebration, she lost all of her friends. And although she has no injuries to prove the crime was committed, Melinda bares scars on the inside. The friendships she once had, have been destroyed, and her former acquaintances are ignoring her. Melinda also feels uncomfortable confiding in her dysfunctional family, whom she believes would be unable to understand her problems. She has nobody to discuss her feelings with, except for her new selfish classmate, Heather, who cares for no one but herself. These reasons, caused by one, sinful action, caused Melinda to hate herself and everyone around her.

Another reason the theme of the novel is overcoming depression is, Melinda uses painting and sculpting as a soothing technique to let out all of her frustration and anger. Thanks to her wise and friendly art teacher, Melinda pours her heart and soul into her work, thus forth breaking the ongoing sadness she has felt over the course of the never-ending school year.

The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins, is another novel that discusses overcoming depression. After seventeen year-old Katniss Everdeen is sent to the Capitol, to participate in a fight to the death on live television, she warns her mother not to go mute again. Her unnamed mother, became distraught after her husband died in an accidental mine explosion; their district provides the coal for the entire nation. Katniss makes her only parent promise to care for her younger sister Primrose, as she enters the games. After their father had perished, Katniss took it upon herself to provide for her family, while her mother stared into space, with a blank and lonely expression on her face. Luckily, Miss Everdeen was able to take charge and defeat her depression, and resume her position as caregiver of her household. She was able to overcome her melancholy by embracing those who loved and needed her in their time of need. Miss Everdeen even returned to her status as District Nurse and began providing in-home health care, which in return, gave her enough money to raise Primrose on her own while Katniss was away. Melinda needed to gain the courage to move on and leave the past behind her, as Katniss’ mother did.

Like The Hunger Games, Legend by Mary Lu, represented overcoming distress in its theme. The book’s heroine, June, grew miserable and cheerless, after her brother, Metias, a military soldier, was murdered at a hospital while responding to a mission. After days of silence and unhappiness, she finally was able to grieve, and put it upon herself to avenge her sibling’s killing. She found herself curing her depression, after wondering about what Metias would’ve wanted.  She found the strength to revitalize her emotions, as did Melinda.

Towards the end of the novel, Melinda pours out all of her feelings into painting, and finally gains the strength to confront her assailant. Through art, she is able to express herself and her emotions, also overcoming her longtime anguish. She is eventually able to stand up to her rapist once he tries to attack again; her secret is revealed to the entire student body, and Melinda is able to resume her beautiful, joyful life.

Prediction Piece and Speak Epilogue

Prediction

In the novel, Speak, the main character Melinda has been brutally raped and sexually assaulted, events which occurred the night she attended an End of Summer party with her best friends. She was to begin the ninth grade and became awed when the most popular boy in school, Andy, asked her to dance, despite the fact he was three years older; the boy lured her into the woods and molested her. He had begun by asking her "Do you want to..." and when she hadn't responded, he had gone for it. Although against her will, she couldn't find the strength to scream or ask him to cease. 

Melinda called the police soon after, but they ended up arresting, not the assailant, but all of her friends who had been drinking and taking hardcore drugs inside the house. All of her classmates began to resent her and she found herself alone, misunderstood, and depressed.

My prediction of how the story will end, is that Melinda will finally reveal to her parents and previous best friends, of what really happened at the celebration, and Andy will be arrested. Andy deserves to be locked up in a cell, for he scarred poor, defenseless Melinda for life, and he will never be able to take that back. Plus, the judicial system will find him guilty of battery and sexual harassment, for he is eighteen and she is fifteen, and he has legally become an adult; only adults can be charged with these types of crimes. 

I believe Melinda will gain all of her friends' trust back and they will finally comfort her in her time of need. Hopefully, Melinda will have a happy ending, one which she so desperately needs. Andy is a monster, that is the best word to describe him; he must be punished.

Epilogue

(Based on my prediction, this is what I believe an epilogue of Speak would perhaps look like)

Almost an entire year has passed since my dreadful experience with Andy Evans. He has been convicted to a county prison, where he will be kept for three years; the judicial system intend to send a tutor to his cell everyday for college readiness. I know I'm safe now, but he still terrorizes my dreams. I am unable to get the image of him inserting my delicate and feeble body against my will. I keep reminding myself that he is unable to hurt me anymore; I'm not even capable of harming myself. My time in ninth grade will be memorable, although it will haunt me for the rest of eternity. I am overcoming the incident and surrounding myself with great, caring friends and family. 

I meet with the school guidance counselor twice a week, in an effort to clear my mind of the past. I wish to tell her that her techniques are useless, but I'd feel guilty due to the fact I am her only patient. No student visits her during the week, except for the occasional physical fight on school grounds or upset parent. As for Mr. Freeman, I find him more of a therapist than the guidance counselor; but he uses a different technique to grieve...art. I can't believe I didn't recognize this sooner!

I actually have friends. Real, loyal friends who sit by me at lunch, and engage in pointless chatter as they stuff their mouths with french fries and fork-fulls of salad. Rachel is no longer Rachelle; I was able to talk some sense into her and she no longer attends four foreign language classes a day. Ivy is my best friend. I finally realized that through my struggles, she was always there to offer help and advice. I still have the marker stained shirt; it's a memory, a good one that overpowers the terrible one.

And I'm in love. No seriously, I'm being as honest as ever. I've gone on multiple dates with my lab partner and I think they're my soul-mate. I know that probably sound ridiculous, for you know me as a emotionless, miserable teenager who barely socializes, but times have changed. I have changed. I am a different person. Living a different life. And I couldn't be happier. My tree has finally blossomed; my personality has bloomed. I have a voice...I can speak. 

Patriot Pen Essay

Kyle Roberts

7^th Grade

2012                                                                Patriot

If only someone could have prevented the horrendously aggressive battle, caused by the nation’s dispute over slavery. If only someone could have stopped the brutally bloody battle, that took over 625,000 lives during the Civil War. If only I could have been there to assist them and resolve their ongoing and troublesome conflict.

Our founding fathers gave up everything in order to assure themselves that America would be unlike any other country; we would have equal rights and most importantly, freedom. They put their heart in soul into the development of our magnificent land, now known as the United States; but there was one important reason they went to war: to illegalize slavery. If I were able go back in time to resolve the state’s differences, I would elucidate to them how atrocious using Africans as slaves actually was.

Our country was split into two feuding sides in 1861, over disagreements on laws and decisions made by the government. The Confederate States believed that every household should be served and waited on by various slaves, or servants, that would care for the homeowner’s every need. They separated themselves from the United States, who intended to find a solution for the ongoing problem, that forced hard labor on hundreds of innocent African immigrants. This quarrel lead the two skirmishing sides to one of the most vicious and dreadful wars in American history.

 The war began on April 12, 1861, with the final shot declaring the end of the battle, fired on June 22, 1865. This awful combat lasted for over five years, a fight that shouldn’t have even started at all. If I could go back in time to bring peace to their arguments and teach them that our differences are what make us who we are, the violent clash wouldn’t have even occurred. I wish that somehow, I could have been there to save the thousands of people, who perished on our sacred grounds, as proud Americans. Although I’d thank our founding fathers for sacrificing their time to establish our marvelous country, I would also like to tell them how dim-witted they acted using innocent foreigners as personal slaves, just because of their skin color, ethnicity and race.

If only someone could have prevented the sorrow and loss of over five hundred-thousand Americans, over something as simple as freedom…If only they had realized that freedom is a right that everyone tremendously merits, no matter who they are.