Talk to a parent about Moby-Dick. Ask what s/he knows about the book, and then post a blog about it.
Consider such topics as Ishmael and Queequeg, Jonah and the Whale, Captain Ahab and the Pequod.
(also ask what books were being taught when they were in school - did they read them? did they like them? what's the last book they read?)
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
Queequeg
The beginning tells us all about Ishmael and why he went whaling. (Check out our rewrites below.)
Next we learn about Queequeg. Post a comment here about this character. Who is he? From where does he come? How does he get along with Ishmael? What do you think will happen next?
Next we learn about Queequeg. Post a comment here about this character. Who is he? From where does he come? How does he get along with Ishmael? What do you think will happen next?
Chapter 1 - Loomings
I’m a poor outcast, and have no interest in being on shore. My soul is damp and weak. My morals keep me from stepping into the street, where I want to knock off people’s hats. When I take to the sea, nothing seems surprising to me. I’m whaling because I dont care if i live or die.
Everywhere you go in the city of the Manhattoes there will always be a way to water. NY’ers lives run waterward. Business people are watergazers.
Walk and look around metro on a weekend afternoon, see a crew of men chilling, daydreaming, leaning - average people used to landlife. Mortal men thinking: Why are they here?
People come from the cities, stop what they are doing to meet up. People w/o experience will swim without knowing the true dangers of water.
You have to choose the path to take, and you’ll be carried to a magic stream. The most absent-minded men will infallibly lead you to water - amazing yet dangerous, and wedded forever to thought.
Life at sea is the most glorious thing a person can experience. An artist can paint a beautiful cottage and shepherd, but needs a stream to draw people to it.
I’m in the habit of going to sea when I grow hazy about the eye, but not a passenger, cook, or captain.
I went from being a schoolmaster to a sailor, knowing I will be ordered to do things against my will. It’s a hard and hurtpride life before the mast, takin’ orders all day but you tough it out.
I’m a slave for life, but we are all cogs in the machine, not just me. We serve a purpose.
But you get paid as a sailor, you pay as passenger. This is the one of the glorious attractions of the sea.
Behind every leader is a group of people who do the work, making the leader look good. I go to sea as a sailor, though, not a captain.
I’m not sure why the stage manager Fate gave me this “shabby part” of the whaling voyage, instead of a jolly cruise. The future comes to me in disguises.
Despite all this, the experience I wanted was the portentous, mysterious monster of the ocean. I love to sail to wild lands, have horror excite me, bring me fear, and then treat it as a friend.
Although the voyage was long and dangerous, the sea and Moby-Dick were calling my name, welcoming and motivating me. So it was decided: the hunt that sparks my wonder and lifts my self-esteem is a go; my taste for adventure drags me to this whale, even to my death.
-opening chapter of Moby-Dick, as re-written by
Westbrook High School American Literature juniors, March 2011
Everywhere you go in the city of the Manhattoes there will always be a way to water. NY’ers lives run waterward. Business people are watergazers.
Walk and look around metro on a weekend afternoon, see a crew of men chilling, daydreaming, leaning - average people used to landlife. Mortal men thinking: Why are they here?
People come from the cities, stop what they are doing to meet up. People w/o experience will swim without knowing the true dangers of water.
You have to choose the path to take, and you’ll be carried to a magic stream. The most absent-minded men will infallibly lead you to water - amazing yet dangerous, and wedded forever to thought.
Life at sea is the most glorious thing a person can experience. An artist can paint a beautiful cottage and shepherd, but needs a stream to draw people to it.
I’m in the habit of going to sea when I grow hazy about the eye, but not a passenger, cook, or captain.
I went from being a schoolmaster to a sailor, knowing I will be ordered to do things against my will. It’s a hard and hurtpride life before the mast, takin’ orders all day but you tough it out.
I’m a slave for life, but we are all cogs in the machine, not just me. We serve a purpose.
But you get paid as a sailor, you pay as passenger. This is the one of the glorious attractions of the sea.
Behind every leader is a group of people who do the work, making the leader look good. I go to sea as a sailor, though, not a captain.
I’m not sure why the stage manager Fate gave me this “shabby part” of the whaling voyage, instead of a jolly cruise. The future comes to me in disguises.
Despite all this, the experience I wanted was the portentous, mysterious monster of the ocean. I love to sail to wild lands, have horror excite me, bring me fear, and then treat it as a friend.
Although the voyage was long and dangerous, the sea and Moby-Dick were calling my name, welcoming and motivating me. So it was decided: the hunt that sparks my wonder and lifts my self-esteem is a go; my taste for adventure drags me to this whale, even to my death.
-opening chapter of Moby-Dick, as re-written by
Westbrook High School American Literature juniors, March 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)