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Monthly Archive for August, 2017

After the fire, I went to church. In the confessional the priest asked me if I practiced self-pollution. The words were formal, unfamiliar, but I knew what he meant. So, I thought, kneeling there in the dark, crushed with shame, there’s a name for it. I looked at the shadowy grill, looked toward the source […]

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In an otherwise unremarkable September morning, long before I learned to be ashamed of my mother, she takes my hand and we set off down New Jersey Avenue to begin my very first day of school. After I read this passage, what stood out to me most was the first sentence – specifically the phrase […]

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My mother is now diseased, according to the girl’s eyes, and until the moment her mother takes her and the form to the front of the auditorium, the girl never stops looking at my mother. In this passage, the mother of the narrator is forced to admit her illiteracy to the mother of a little […]

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T.C Boyle — “Rara Avis”

The speaker and the crowd first react to the bird in amazement; it draws a crowd of all ages and genders and, for a brief moment, there is no commotion from everyday life. The bird, described as being from a time before human industrialization, relates to the desire of the boy to visit the abandoned house. The house breathed […]

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“This form. Would you mind helping me fill it out?” The woman still seems not to understand. “I can’t read it. I don’t know how to read or write, and I’m asking you to help me.” Throughout the story, I can sense the mother’s hope that her daughter will have the life she hasn’t had. […]

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All throughout the text, we can see examples of the mother’s pride — her pride in her dreams of getting her daughter into this school, her pride in her daughter’s appearance. Even more, we see hints that she is proud of herself. As the story progresses, we can see how her pride starts to break. We can pinpoint […]

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T.C. Boyle, “Rara Avis”

So, I thought, kneeling there in the dark, crushed with shame, there’s a name for it. I looked at the shadowy grill, looked toward the source of soothing absolution, the voice of forgiveness and hope, and I lied. “No,” I whispered… I threw the first stone. I found “Rara Avis” to be surprisingly powerful for its […]

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In an otherwise unremarkable September morning, long before I learned to be ashamed of my mother, she takes my hand and we set off down New Jersey Avenue to begin my very first day of school. I am wearing a checkeredlike blue-and-green cotton dress, scattered about these colors are bits of yellow and white and […]

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T.C. Boyle’s “Rara Avis”

Perched there at the lip of the roof, its feet clutching the drainpipe as if welded to it, the bird was a coil of possibility, a muscle relaxed against the moment of tension. When I read this sentence of the story, I immediately saw the bird as a metaphor for the child.  The phrase “its feet […]

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In an otherwise unremarkable September morning, long before I learned to be ashamed of my mother, she takes my hand and we set off down New Jersey Avenue to begin my first day of school. Although this passage is only the first line of the story, it is extremely telling of the emotion the child […]

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T.C. Boyle, “Rara Avis”

After the fire I went to church. In the confessional the priest asked me if I practiced self-pollution. The words were formal, unfamiliar, but I knew what he meant. So, I thought, kneeling there in the dark, crushed with shame, there’s a name for it. I looked at the shadowy grill, looked toward the source […]

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But finally, I see in her eyes the closing gate… The morning of the narrator’s first day of school begins with her mother uncharacteristically putting extra effort into the narrator’s appearance. Determined to make  sure her daughter receives a better education than herself, the mother takes her daughter — the narrator — to a school that is outside of their district. The first […]

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“Rara Avis” by T Coraghessan Boyle has a lot of symbolism as the majority of the story focuses on the narrator’s fascination with a white bird. However out of all the lines in the text I find the last line the most powerful sentence. It’s a great summary of the narrator’s thoughts, feelings, and brings the story to […]

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” Her loud shoes in the hall. She passes through the doors and i can still hear the loud  sounds of her shoes .And even when the teachers turn med toward the classrooms and I hear what must be the  singing and talking of all the children in the world, i can still hear my […]

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