Such an example is in "To Build a Fire" by Jack London. As seen in this quote‚ "The man turned aside from the Yukon trail and climbed the high earth-bank‚ where a dim and little-traveled trail led eastward through the fat spruce timberland. It was a steep bank‚ and he paused for breath at the top‚ excusing the act to himself by looking at his watch. It was nine o’ clock .He would be in to camp by six o’ clock a bit after dark‚ it was true‚ but the boys would be there‚ a fire would be going‚ and a hot
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himself in control of his destiny. From the naturalistic viewpoint‚ life appoints nature as the final arbiter of the fate of all organisms‚ from the miniscule amoeba to the gargantuan whale to the overconfident human. Jack London’s short story‚ "To Build a Fire"‚ highlights the naturalistic belief that the human attempt at controlling destiny is ultimately futile‚ as human behavior is largely reigned in by their heredity and environment. The short story details the unsuccessful journey of an unnamed
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man with Native American beliefs named Thomas is described as annoying but yet generous to an old friend with a bad past they have together. The outcome of the story is to forgive but never forget. Thomas has a old friend in need of money and he is willing to help him even though they did not grow up on great terms. “I can lend you the money you need ‚ but you need to take me with you” Thomas says. He wanted the father’s ashes as well as Victor. Thomas has effects on people that don’t really
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Follow Your Instincts In this particular short story‚ author Jack London introduces a man and a dog on foot traveling to reach a specific destination in very rigid temperatures in a sub-polar area. The man who is never named can be characterized as determined‚ full of procrastination‚ and downright naïve. At the beginning of the reading‚ the story starts off as an adventurous journey with a man and a dog who are trying to reach a location where the “boys” are by six o’clock. It does not seem
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boiling cauldron. Her hands twitched‚ avoiding the heat of the flames. Then‚ as quickly and carefully as she could‚ she threw the flaming piece towards the haystack. Consequently‚ the far end of the room burst into flames. The witches howled as the fire spread wildly from the haystack to the window curtains. The window curtains to a pile of books. The pile of books to the parchment that lined the top shelves of the kitchen. “Aghhh! Grab the buckets of water! Save the books! Sarrah‚ get off the floor
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denies Junior’s knowledge about Petrified Wood because Junior was an “Indian” from the Reservation. To eagerly be correct‚ Mr. Dodge sarcastically mentions how "there’s so much amazing science on the reservation” (Alexie 85). By using a mixture of sarcastic tone and a rhetorical question‚ Alexie shows Mr. Dodge’s perspective on people from the Reservation (Indians) and how they are less educated in the field of Science than Rearden. Furthermore‚ different perspectives of race are shown when Roger says
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In the novel The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie and the poem “There is a Longing…” by Chief Dan George‚ the authors apply metaphors and diction to express that people have to change their way of thinking in order to achieve their dreams. At the beginning of the book‚ The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian‚ the main character Junior expresses why he loves to draw. He claims that it is a way to talk to the world and it makes him feel important. He dreams of
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Ami built the evening fire to a roaring inferno‚ and as the bright orange flames filled the summit‚ licking with vigour at the darkening sky‚ the shadows danced like nymphs on the stone walls in a frenetic display. Soon‚ the fires would recede‚ leaving behind a bed of molten-red embers. Their invitingly warm glow would safeguard against the savage chill of the Arthe night. Her father and Umonakalisi had not strayed from the summit since their earlier discussion‚ and it seemed they would not be returning
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Quick‚ break the hourglass!” I roared. Without question‚ the maidens immediately obeyed‚ tearing the glass from the statue’s grip and tossing it to the floor. Instantly the glass shattered to pieces. “Good!” I shouted‚ jumping closer to the statue as fire enclosed all around. We all waited in silence‚ staring at the pile of sand‚ but nothing was forthcoming. We were still trapped. “I don’t understand. The man said that was the final step!” “What do we do?!” the maiden’s cried. Then‚ like lightning
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air that shimmered eover the mass of coifs‚ hats and fists. A greyish haze rose‚ separating Rosy from the sweating mob‚ like ground fog rising on a winter’s day. But this was the height of summer‚ and this mist travelled on the stinking fumes of the fire. It blocked the sight‚ but not the sound‚ and sent fingers of searing heat towards the heavens where swallows cavorted in the summer skies. Their sapphire blue was mocking her. Not for her the freedom. Not for her the escape. The
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