Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Not as Great as the Book
There are three subjects that make Harry Hooks movie version of the Lord of the Flies, 1990, differ from William Golding’s novel. The first reason is the arrival of the boys on the island, Simons encounter with the Lord of the Flies and how the different chiefs ruled.
When the boys came to the island in the book they arrived on plane. In the movie, however, they arrived on the island in a life boat. They all knew each other, and they’re all from the same school, so whoever was the colonel then, is now. But in the book, they don’t know one another; the boys have to get to know each other as they build their campo and rules, which might make something’s tougher in the book than in the movie. It takes away the building up the friends and enemies from the movie. And for some cases, building their skills as leaders.
The second point that made William Golding’s book differ from Harry Hook’s movie was Simons Encounter with the Beast. Simon is A Figure much like Jesus and the Lord of the Flies is something compared to a beezabulb (devil like creature). So when Simon met the Lord, you saw that scene was compared to Jesus’ confrontation with Satan during the 40 days of Wilderness. Simon is both natural and good in this world where such a combination seems impossible, so he realizes this is not real. He he’s the most complex reaction because he is the most complex character. Though, in the movie, Harry Hook completely cut out this meeting with the beats and made it seem he wasn’t so Jesus like, and it didn’t make it seem like what it was compared to in the book—an encounter with the devil. You don’t see Simon fainting in the film, which indicates the horrific persuasive for the instinct for chaos and savagery that the Lord of the Flies represents. It takes away the religious views of Golding’s book.
Another way the book differed from the movie was how chiefs ruled their tribes. At the beginning, the leader was chosen in both, but in the book, Ralph and Jack act like their two leaders. In the movie however, Jack doesn’t interrupt as much, you don’t really see his jealousy. In William Golding’s version you see strait away that Jack despises Ralph, from the very beginning and wants to be chief. Although, in the movie, you don’t see much emotion from him until he says, “I’ve had enough, “and goes to make his own tribe. When he’s gone Ralph doesn’t really do much to keep everyone else in his tribe, like he almost doesn’t care about leading. Though, in the book, he tries everything he can do to keep the boys in his tribe. This changes the relationship between Ralph and Jack.
In all, Harry Hook’s movie, 1990, was only based on Golding’s novel. It was an adaption and cut out most of the symbolism, which left it not as great the book, Lord of the Flies by William Golding.
When the boys came to the island in the book they arrived on plane. In the movie, however, they arrived on the island in a life boat. They all knew each other, and they’re all from the same school, so whoever was the colonel then, is now. But in the book, they don’t know one another; the boys have to get to know each other as they build their campo and rules, which might make something’s tougher in the book than in the movie. It takes away the building up the friends and enemies from the movie. And for some cases, building their skills as leaders.
The second point that made William Golding’s book differ from Harry Hook’s movie was Simons Encounter with the Beast. Simon is A Figure much like Jesus and the Lord of the Flies is something compared to a beezabulb (devil like creature). So when Simon met the Lord, you saw that scene was compared to Jesus’ confrontation with Satan during the 40 days of Wilderness. Simon is both natural and good in this world where such a combination seems impossible, so he realizes this is not real. He he’s the most complex reaction because he is the most complex character. Though, in the movie, Harry Hook completely cut out this meeting with the beats and made it seem he wasn’t so Jesus like, and it didn’t make it seem like what it was compared to in the book—an encounter with the devil. You don’t see Simon fainting in the film, which indicates the horrific persuasive for the instinct for chaos and savagery that the Lord of the Flies represents. It takes away the religious views of Golding’s book.
Another way the book differed from the movie was how chiefs ruled their tribes. At the beginning, the leader was chosen in both, but in the book, Ralph and Jack act like their two leaders. In the movie however, Jack doesn’t interrupt as much, you don’t really see his jealousy. In William Golding’s version you see strait away that Jack despises Ralph, from the very beginning and wants to be chief. Although, in the movie, you don’t see much emotion from him until he says, “I’ve had enough, “and goes to make his own tribe. When he’s gone Ralph doesn’t really do much to keep everyone else in his tribe, like he almost doesn’t care about leading. Though, in the book, he tries everything he can do to keep the boys in his tribe. This changes the relationship between Ralph and Jack.
In all, Harry Hook’s movie, 1990, was only based on Golding’s novel. It was an adaption and cut out most of the symbolism, which left it not as great the book, Lord of the Flies by William Golding.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Chapter 10: The Shell and the Glasses
The power, the rock
the tribe is lead by the beast
by the fear and the masks
by selfishness and evil
by a harsh hunter named Jack
the tribe is lead by the beast
by the fear and the masks
by selfishness and evil
by a harsh hunter named Jack
Saturday, April 23, 2011
You Cant Have it all Exept The Sunkist Pink Grapefruit, Strawberry Daiquiri, and Lemon Lime
But you can have the fleur delis points of the green garden gate,
And the pink buds and creeper vines and the butterfly flowers,
Like the really flutter at your own touch.
You can have the anonymous love letters and lunch notes at dinnertime,
Though, you always know they’re from grandma because smeared vanilla cake batter
Still sits around the edges.
You can have the one black moor goldfish in the pond of orange ones,
With his budging dragon eyes staring right at you,
And when the time comes,
You’ll leave a ball in the water to stop it from icing over in cold winters.
You can have the bright, juicy, fresh watermelons that grow to the left of the orange brick wall down the garden,
That is eaten on sunny Saturday afternoons by young children.
You can have the happiness that bursts like popcorn,
Pop, pop, pop,
Until the tomato red and electric blue bag overflows.
You can pick one up, but you only have to put it down again because you’re on a diet.
You can apply mummy’s cherry red lipstick shakily onto yourself after she did for a big night out.
But you can’t wash those permanent lines off,
Only wait for them to disappear, so grin and bear those fat red lips.
You can have the toyshops full of screaming kids—“I want this”,”please, please, please.” That always ends in a harsh “no,”
And everyone wonders why we still take them to the heaven of toys and says no, teasing like a crook.
You can have the bitter sweetness of an unripe green apple like the harsh notes of Beethoven playing in the grandpa’s old fashioned living room,
Him asleep to it in his armchair—paper still on lap.
You can have the gentle beat of a hummingbird’s wing as it lands on a beautiful hibiscus flower.
You can have the jelly bean—handpicked by a child’s sticky sweet fingers on a Sunday—
Sunkist Pink Grapefruit, Strawberry Daiquiri, Lemon Lime, everyone as tangy and fresh—
Unique candy, from the very best.
You can have the radio songs—on a loop like they want you to notice,
And the car mirrors with the dim light that you keep on the whole car ride—even though it’s daytime.
You can have the short cherries on the trees that sit by the mocha brown shed,
You notice that they disappear right under your nose—sneaky birds.
You can have February,
And March
And April, maybe May.
And all the other months you can think of because that doesn’t matter to me when you still can’t have it all--but only no more than that.
And the pink buds and creeper vines and the butterfly flowers,
Like the really flutter at your own touch.
You can have the anonymous love letters and lunch notes at dinnertime,
Though, you always know they’re from grandma because smeared vanilla cake batter
Still sits around the edges.
You can have the one black moor goldfish in the pond of orange ones,
With his budging dragon eyes staring right at you,
And when the time comes,
You’ll leave a ball in the water to stop it from icing over in cold winters.
You can have the bright, juicy, fresh watermelons that grow to the left of the orange brick wall down the garden,
That is eaten on sunny Saturday afternoons by young children.
You can have the happiness that bursts like popcorn,
Pop, pop, pop,
Until the tomato red and electric blue bag overflows.
You can pick one up, but you only have to put it down again because you’re on a diet.
You can apply mummy’s cherry red lipstick shakily onto yourself after she did for a big night out.
But you can’t wash those permanent lines off,
Only wait for them to disappear, so grin and bear those fat red lips.
You can have the toyshops full of screaming kids—“I want this”,”please, please, please.” That always ends in a harsh “no,”
And everyone wonders why we still take them to the heaven of toys and says no, teasing like a crook.
You can have the bitter sweetness of an unripe green apple like the harsh notes of Beethoven playing in the grandpa’s old fashioned living room,
Him asleep to it in his armchair—paper still on lap.
You can have the gentle beat of a hummingbird’s wing as it lands on a beautiful hibiscus flower.
You can have the jelly bean—handpicked by a child’s sticky sweet fingers on a Sunday—
Sunkist Pink Grapefruit, Strawberry Daiquiri, Lemon Lime, everyone as tangy and fresh—
Unique candy, from the very best.
You can have the radio songs—on a loop like they want you to notice,
And the car mirrors with the dim light that you keep on the whole car ride—even though it’s daytime.
You can have the short cherries on the trees that sit by the mocha brown shed,
You notice that they disappear right under your nose—sneaky birds.
You can have February,
And March
And April, maybe May.
And all the other months you can think of because that doesn’t matter to me when you still can’t have it all--but only no more than that.
Poetry Notebook: Beginnings and Endings
Description: There are always beginnings and endings for everyone. Weather the beginning of a life or the ending of a day. These poets have made the moments perfectly poetic for us to read and admire; beginnings and endings.
Synopsis: A few poems about beginnings as well as endings.
Beginnings:
Wild Dreams of a New Beginning
New Beginnings by James M.Rainey
New Love, New Life by Johann Wolfgang Goethe
Wake Up, Day Calls You by Pedero Salinas
Endings:
Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstien
Night by William Blake
Song of The End of the World
Shot? So Quick, So Clean an Ending? by A. E, Housman
Friday, April 22, 2011
Chocolate Candy Brown-Benjamin Moore-2107-10
A park
In between the dark
And the light
Side of town,
Full of sings
From 1874.
Sand,
Covered the chocolate candy brown
Girl’s feet.
The sand
Of an hour glass,
Three fourths full.
Laughing,
Playing,
Enjoying,
The time she had
In the park that day.
With a fragile,
Paper white girl.
Not knowing
Why her mother said it wasn’t safe.
Best friends,
Half full.
They weren’t noticed
Until later.
One-fourth full.
Screaming,
Kicking,
Crying,
Last goodbyes
For ever,
As a fragile
Small,
paper white girl
Was being dragged away
“I want to do everything she does!”
By her mother.
Left,
A small
Chocolate candy brown
Child—ashamed.
Sitting
Quietly—wondering
What she’d done wrong,
On the driftwood swing-sets.
Hour glass:
Empty.
Sand:
Wet with tears.
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