Um....Title...Yeah.....

Casval walked down the street towards where his chauffeur was waiting for him. His stride was focused and showed his frustration at what had happened. Though he had admitted to himself that he was in the wrong, it was not shame that caused his surly attitude.

“I’m disappointed in you” was all that Casval had said to turn his company's judging eyes onto him. Now, in his solitude, he found it absurd that such a comment was able to result in this, but he meant it with full malice. In the end, he was glad to have left, as even the bitter cold of the winter’s night stung less than their words. When the pearl white limousine came into view, Casval put aside his thoughts and was welcomed into the car’s warmth by the driver. “Shall I take us home sir?”

Casval was the adopted heir to a wealthy business conglomerate based downtown, and had lived a good deal of his adolescence in luxury. The memories of his impoverished childhood however, served as a reminder for himself to act with his status.

“Sir?” repeated Noa, the young man who sat attentively in the driver’s seat. Casval snapped up from his reflection, and could immediately tell that his master was on edge this evening. Casval merely nodded and slumped back into his seat, trying his best to forget his troubles. “Very well, sir,” said Noa, rolling up the window between the seats.

Noa cared not to think much into his master’s affairs, but still felt concern for him. He had held his position as the driver for only two months now, but he took pride in it and took the role seriously. He snatched the opportunity after years of experience taxiing all sorts of characters from place to place, and even more so from his youthful days carousing the town with his gang.  They were a no good bunch, he remembered, but being on the streets again as a profession gave him a sweet sense of nostalgia. It was hard for him to carry a family by himself, so driving gave him an escape from his troubles.

As the car glided down the road without making a sound, Casval sat totally immersed in his thoughts. With the heat of the moment gone, he finally found time to collect himself. It took the young aristocrat a while to fully encompass the situation he had been put in, as well as the consequences that resulted. “Good lord,” he sighed to himself, and began to think of a way to resolve the matter. He stared out the tinted window and towards the lake. It glittered with the dazzling lights of buildings and cars passing by the shore, reflecting them in a way that made it look alive, as if another city existed beneath it, one that was always awake with the busy business of its people. Casval was not a sentimental person, but even he felt charmed by the sight.

His attention shifted down towards the people walking on the lakefront below. Wrapped in blankets, huddled together around crackling fires lit in barrels, the image of the city’s impoverished ruined the tranquil night scenery. Casval felt bitter resent from his position looking down on them, and regretfully returned to the memories of his little outburst. No longer in his good mood and not wanting to retie to bed unsettled, he leaned forward and lowered the window.

“Driver, I’ve changed my mind, turn us around and bring us to Kamille’s.” Casval said abruptly and coldly towards Noa, who immediately groaned out of displeasure once the window had gone back up.

“This kid never gives me a break does he?” Noa muttered as he swerved back onto the highway. He wasn’t being paid extra for working this late and he knew that his wife would be unhappy. Nevertheless, he had to comply with his young master’s request and head towards their destination downtown.

After driving for a little while longer, the vibrant automobile pulled up at the corner of the lively street, still bustling with couples and families window shopping and browsing for all sorts of gifts and goods out here in the cold. Noa parked and exited the vehicle, briefly looking around and scanning the happy faces of children and their parents. He gave a rather dull smile towards them and opened the door for Casval.

“I might be a while.” He said without really acknowledging his attendant. “You’d best make yourself comfortable.” He said without tone and walked down the street and into a building that seemed lacking of any festiveness shown elsewhere around.

Noa mumbled a quick “yessir” and returned to his seat in the car. He promptly rested his head onto the steering wheel and rested his tired eyes, with nothing else to do then think of his warm bed.

Casval entered down past the empty foyer and through lonely hallways. The flickering of dim yellow lights were all that broke the silence, barring the whispers and faint echoes of the adjacent room’s inhabitants. After walking for quite some time, he heard the voices grow louder and louder, with cheers and laughter all about. He reached a pale door at the end of the hall, and reached his hand out to open it.

“Well, look who’s here!” almost instantly came a cheery, soothing voice. “What can I get for you, boss?”

Casval eyes turned towards the barkeep, but he did not respond. He walked leisurely towards the bar counter whilst looking around. The dull glow that resided in the halls had been replaced with a scarlet red. He saw people eating at tables, sitting at the bar, or playing the machines at the back. The place smelled distinctly of alcohol and smoke, yet the soft and cool music playing gave it a bizarrely welcoming atmosphere.

“I’m fine as it is, Kamille.” Casval said, sitting down on one of the stools. “I came for advice and some pity is all.” He said rather grimly, reaching out to grab a cigarette being handed to him by a small, feminine hand.

Kamille was the proud owner of the quaint little joint that Casval found himself in on multiple occasions, often for celebrating or remembering. If only this time could be a bit as cheerful. While he looked quite younger than the eccentric, Kamille was the same age and grew up with him. He never went to school, and frankly wasn’t considered by anyone to be good at much, but by chance he managed to find himself in a place of success.

“What’s on your mind?” Kamille replied to Casval’s unsubtle comment. Despite trying to keep his thoughts to himself in most scenarios, he wasn’t very vague when it came down to it.

“I think that I’ve managed to piss off the higher-ups” Casval bluntly put it. Kamille proceeded to quietly pour drinks for himself and his friend with a concerned expression. He cared for his long-time companion, and greatly respected his position in life and as a man, but when it came to work matters or those amongst high society, Kamille found himself uncomfortably lost.

“Well I’m sure it’s fixable. Just what did you do to those old snobs?”

Casval let out a sigh and stretched a bit in his seat, almost like the topic brought him physical discomfort.  “I was at a little get-together earlier this evening, among some seniors of the board. You know, the ones my father likes me to hang around and learn a bit from? Well, somehow I found myself drawn into a conversation amongst them regarding the state of the city’s welfare-”

“Stop right there because I already know where this is going” Kamille abruptly interrupted. “If this is going to be one of your rants about the poor again, I’ll care significantly less. Look, you and I both grew up like that and I get that those elitists bother you, but I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again. You need to forget the past and think about the now.”

“Very well, if you don’t have any better to say than what my father pegs onto me, then I’ll just head on home and try to think of an apology.” Casval rose from his seat and began to walk towards the exit. Kamille quickly paced out from behind the bar and stopped him.

“You know that I’m not the guy to deal with these kinds of problems you got.” Kamille said to his friend, who appeared more scornful than when he had come in. Casval waved him off but the boyish lad would not budge.

“Fine, coming here to you was a mistake, but surely you know someone who I can bring my troubles to?” Casval asked, almost interrogatively. Kamille’s bright manner has seemed to dissipate a bit in front of the man’s rudeness. Kamille knew his friend could be very cold and unsociable and tried to be the more positive one in their talks, but sometimes his attitude became too much.

“I don’t know man, why don’t you talk to someone from the old days if you’re looking to talk about how poor they are? Kamille coldly replied. “You know I don’t talk to any of them anymore” he responded. Casval was not too good at picking up at the meanings of other’s remarks.

“Well then just find one of your workers to bug on Christmas Eve; I’m closing up early anyway.”

“That’s what all the fuss outside is about?” Casval stopped himself and thought for an awkward second, being absorbed in his work made him forget quite a lot of his schedule.

“Way to go, man” Kamille mocked, now feeling a bit more restored by the mention of the occasion. “Look, just get home safe, alright? You’ve got a ride already don’t you?”

“Of course, and um, happy holidays” Casval dimwittedly replied. The acquaintances bid their farewells and Casval walked back onto the street. Now looking around, he felt rather dull indeed for having missed such an important event. He started back towards the car and awaited the door to be opened for him.

…

After realizing that the door had not been opened for a few seconds, Casval leaned towards the driver’s door to peek inside the window. He found his drivers face first towards the steering wheel, appearing to be happily asleep. Becoming frustrated at being put in another awkward situation, and that it was almost mocking to slumber inside the cozy warm car when your master was waiting in the cold. He promptly raised his hand to knock on the window.

Noa was likely dreaming happily about going home, spending the night with his family. What he dreamed though didn’t really matter as it all reflected his desire to not be waiting outside of some seedy bar. He grudgingly arose from his nap due to some irritable tapping. He expected a bum at his window begging for change or something. His annoyed eyes quickly recoiled from scowling at the window when he realized who was looking in directly from the other side.

        “I-I’m v-very sorry s-sir” Noa hastily spat out as he nearly leapt out of his seat to open the door for Casval. The man looked at his chauffeur with a look not of anger or chaste, but with a puzzling look of  thought. “It’s no problem” Casval said quietly, entering and sitting down into the car. Noa closed the door behind him, heart pacing all the while. He entered the driver’s seat with full griminosity, sure that he would be scolded and lose the pay earned tonight. He began the drive home expecting the worst.

        Casval sit alone again reflecting on his thoughts. Kamille had instructed to seek philosophical comfort in one of his employees, and Casval now had one in quite the spot where he couldn’t refuse discussing. Still, it came to his attention the date and thought that he would be too much of a bother. He had also noticed his driver’s awkward disposition after being woken up from his little nap, and that alone seemed to amuse Casval enough to not confront him about it.

           

Old Money, New Money, & Everybody Else

Throughout “The Great Gatsby”, author F. Scott Fitzgerald uses the imagery and characteristics of social class and wealth to establish the themes of American life in the Roaring Twenties. The story is set in extravagant and upbeat New York, primarily in two wealthy neighboring districts, West Egg and East Egg, which are similarly home to many rich and successful people, who have come across their fortunes in sharply different ways. The residents of West Egg and East Egg represent the people of New Money, and Old Money, respectively.

            Those labeled as “New Money”, are those who have come to power by pulling themselves up into it. Either through hard work and dedication to their work, or by sheer luck of business and fortune, the riches they've earned were done so by themselves. Nick is a member of the New Money, and is depicted as a go-getting, determined salesman. The people called “Old Money” however are those whose money was passed to them through their familial or society related ties. Thus, they are often seen as older fashioned or overly judgmental onto others of lower class, despite they themselves may having done little work to obtain their position. The character Tom represents this group, as he is described as an arrogant racist. Despite their differences, the two groups are equally shown in the spotlight of wealth and success.

            However, the novel also makes a point to focus on the normal members of society as well, though it emphasizes the differences between classes. The way the rich are lavishly depicted makes those with an ordinary living to appear lacking and miserable. This is shown to further deal with the relationship between the rich and the poor, and how those with power use it over those who don’t.

Thankful

While I was planning on lazing about and spending my five day weekend doing relatively nothing, which I enjoy thoroughly,  I need to do some work in order to honor this holiday season of Thanksgiving, the wonderful reason why I have this long weekend. Though the things I’m really thankful for are the wonderful elements of my casual lifestyle, a warm home, good food, and loving family, but what I really need to be thankful for (in this entry at least), is my friends at school who I see almost every day, specifically my friends in Mr. McCarthy’s Seventh Period American Literature class.

                Now I can assure you that I love everyone in that class equally, they’re all fabulous people who I can talk about in every way for pages upon pages, but I’d rather not do that. So I’ll focus on just one them, Holly Situ. Holly, you are a strange, sad little woman. Trust me, I will talk about how you’re cool, but need to get that fact straight first. With that being said, you’re also a spectacularly entertaining person. No matter what the situation, you always seem to make me laugh or at least mildly amused. Just for that, I’d say that you’re worth thanking. Hope you and everyone else has a happy holiday weekend.

I Celebrate Myself

            When asked to define my identity, I often have trouble answering. So talking about how I celebrate that same identity that I myself don’t understand that well would seem pretty difficult. So to do so, I guess that I’ll have to define myself first.
            I see myself as a dreamer with high ambitions, but I can’t really say that I have any real talents or activities to do. I often find myself in my room thinking about what to do with my life, and end up spending quite a bit of time lying around doing nothing. From that alone, it’s hard to come up with something that I do to celebrate that person, the lazy good for nothing. But I notice that that boy changes quite a bit when he goes to school and spends time with his friends. I realize that care a lot for them, and can think of quite a good number of times where I’ve really done what I can to help them for the best. Such a contrasting character from my own norm has lead me to find something that I can proudly say that I celebrate about myself. That thing is spending my time with my friends and the people I care about. I can say this because I feel like I’m really doing something when I’m spending time with them. I’m achieving something when their by my side, and I think that that thing can be described as my own sense of self.

Poe

Dark, dreary, and dreadful, and alliteration filled, the works of Edgar Allan Poe are certainly something else, and their contributions to the movements of early Romanticism are undeniably large, but whether or not they’re really remarkable pieces of literature or just scary stories to be told around a rather sophisticated campfire is up for debate.

 I bring this question up because the stories and poems we've been reading have been filled with elements of fantasy and horror, but very unclear plots and undefined aspects of traditional story. I guess that in a way this unique trait about them is what makes them amazing, as they really emphasize the key aspects of horror and imagination over the normal styles of the time. This stylization goes hand in hand with the Romantic period of American literature, and as is explained and heavily influenced by the life of the author.

 To get a deeper understanding of his works, we need to get a deeper understanding of Poe. Edgar Allan Poe lived a financially and emotionally difficult life, mostly on his own. He experienced the frequent loss of loved ones and failure to find a stable career and happiness. Such a tragic life would definitely lead to inspiration for his dark tales, and would appear to give them much deeper meaning to both him and the reader.

            With this in mind, my own evaluation of Poe’s works has changed quite a bit. Overlooking their shallow depth with extraordinary detail is one thing, but the add on to that depth greatly with a sense of background and context is something that really enhances the reading experience to me, and makes me look at the stories in a greater sense.

What is an American?

            When you think of Americans, you might think of freedom and bald eagles and all other kinds of patriotic stuff. You might also think of gun-toting, overweight, rednecks but whatever. Many people also regard being American as its own ethnicity, but when you really think about it, America is a massive hub of immigrants, some of whom barely care for or understand what’s supposed to be American culture. So then we come to the question, what really is an American?
            Well in my opinion, an American is anyone who acknowledges and appreciates their way of life here in this country, regardless of what color their skin is, how much money they have, or where they came from. Our constitution states that the only thing we have to do to be seen as an American is to take a simple test about the country, and that’s it. With that in mind, it’s much more un-American to judge others based on their roots than them being here.

            Seeing how it is our constitutional right to be acknowledged as an American citizen, it seems easy enough to become one. But what about the people who are already living here? What makes them consider themselves more American than whatever place they came from? While I understand that some people would rather to keep close to their heritage and traditions than adopt American ones, I also think that people who embrace so called American culture are prevalent enough to warrant a side in this debate.

            So when we get down to it; what is an American? To me, being an American just means that this is where you live and where you can call home. You can practice whatever you want, no matter where you are from, and I would still consider it American.

Modern Puritans

From what we've been reading about them, being a Puritan in today’s fun-long, liberal society would definitely be a drag. We've been reading about their way of life in stories such as The Crucible and The Scarlet Letter in class, and we've learned a lot about the strict, conservative policies they live by. To put it simply, they hate fun, and how they would live in the present is beyond me. But despite my doubt, there are clearly many examples of their lifestyle that remain leftover from the past.
                While the Puritans would likely believe doing anything we consider normal or, dare I say, fun, to be heretical signs of following the devil, they would seemingly approve of some aspects of our life. This is of course seen in several religious or conservative aspects in today’s media and culture, specifically, those who believe strictly in practices keeping the close to God and by their standards, “normal”. While these beliefs are in direct contrast to the way many tolerant and open-minded people live their lives, they’re still very prevalent in our society. Though to be fair, their beliefs are much less rigorous than they used to be, a clear effect of time. Whether or not they will stay around forever is definitely a question that only time will answer. However, I’m sure that as time goes on, people will surely embrace having a lenient, fun lifestyle.