Saturday, October 30, 2010

Old Paper revised (again): verbed.

The chorus plays several parts in the Doctor Faustus. It serves as a story teller—or way to fill in blanks, transition, and give background—and as a warning against following in the character’s footsteps (i.e. the moral of the play). The storytelling role of the chorus occurs in act 4, “when Faustus had with pleasure ta’en the view / of rarest things and royal courts of kings, / he stayed his course and so returned home” (Marlowe 4.1-3). The storytelling transitions the play without breaking flow; it also progresses the story without acting each part out, which would take time. The warning role of the chorus against the actions the main character takes can be seen in the epilogue, “Faustus is gone. Regard his hellish fall, / whose fiendful fortune may exhort the wise only to wonder at unlawful things” (Marlowe Epi.4-6); the warning is against [APPOSITIVE] practicing necromancy (a heaven forbidden art). The storytelling role of the chorus in Doctor Faustus serves to deliver a moral or warning to the audience.
            Foreshadowing and connection to [APPOSITIVE] the audience—the bill payers—are two roles the chorus plays in The  Spanish Tragedy. Different from other plays, the chorus in The Spanish Tragedy consists of [APPOSITIVE] two actors, Don Andrea and Revenge, rather than a group of people. [PAST PARTICIPLE] Angered by his death, Don Andrea’s part is one of concern over the lack of revenge and as a questioner, which connects with the audience’s own concern for the same thing. An example of such concern is when Andrea says, “Awake, Revenge, for thou art ill-advised / to sleep away what thou art warned to watch” (Kyd 3.15.10-11); this creates a connection to the audience, since they are probably wondering why Revenge has not acted. The chorus foreshadows events through the character Revenge, who captures the attention of the audience by allaying their concern. An example of this foreshadowing—a promise of revenge—is when Revenge says, in response to Andrea’s earlier concern, “Content thyself, Andrea. Though I sleep, / Yet is my mood soliciting their souls.” (Kyd 3.15.19-20).
The Spanish Tragedy uses the chorus as a foreshadower and connection to the audience.
            The chorus aids in the action of the play. The chorus’ role as actor moves the action forward, such as its role in Oedipus. The chorus’ role in Doctor Faustus helps move the play along by allowing unnecessary or cumbersome scenes to be left out by simply describing the action. The chorus lays the groundwork for upcoming scenes by providing necessary background.  It also provides a summary of the morals, thereby giving the play a [APPOSITIVE] little more meaning: a purpose. Lastly, its role as foreshadower and link to the audience is demonstrated in The Spanish Tragedy.  Andrea, [ADJECTIVES OUT OF ORDER] concerned and questioning, connects the audience with the play, since the audience feels similar emotions as him. While Revenge, [PRESENT PARTICIPLE] appearing indifferent and unconcerned, provides assurances in a way that would draw the audience deeper into the action of the play. Revenge’s answers would be as if directed to the audience, and it would leave them with expectancy for the promised revenge.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Old Paper (Slightly) Revised!

*Ok, so this is a paper partial--it's not the whole thing, but is three consecutive paragraphs.

In the play Doctor Faustus, the chorus plays a couple parts, it serves as a story teller—or way to fill in blanks, transition, and give background—and as a warning against following in the character’s footsteps (i.e. the moral of the play). An example of the chorus being used as a storyteller is in act 4, “when Faustus had with pleasure ta’en the view / of rarest things and royal courts of kings, / he stayed his course and so returned home” (Marlowe 4.1-3). This storytelling helps to transition the play without breaking flow; it also helps the story progress without having to act everything out. An example of a warning or moral against the actions the main character took is in the epilogue, “Faustus is gone. Regard his hellish fall, / whose fiendful fortune may exhort the wise only to wonder at unlawful things” (Marlowe Epi.4-6); the warning given is against [APPOSITIVE] practicing necromancy: a heaven forbidden art. Doctor Faustus is an example of storytelling and of how a chorus can serve as a way to deliver a moral or warning to the audience.
            Two other roles the chorus can play, such as in the play The Spanish Tragedy, are the parts of a foreshadower or as a connection to [APPOSITIVE] the audience—the bill payers. The chorus in The Spanish Tragedy is different from other plays because the chorus consists of [APPOSITIVE] two actors, Don Andrea and Revenge, rather than a group of people. [PAST PARTICIPLE] Angered by his death, Don Andrea’s part in the chorus seems to be one of concern for the lack of revenge and as a questioner, which provides a connection with the audience’s own concern for the same thing. An example of such concern is when Andrea says, “Awake, Revenge, for thou art ill-advised / to sleep away what thou art warned to watch” (Kyd 3.15.10-11); this helps the audience to relate, since they too are probably wondering why Revenge has not acted. The chorus also foreshadows events through the character Revenge, who also seems to work to capture the attention of the audience by allaying concern. An example of this foreshadowing—a promise of revenge—is when Revenge says, in response to Andrea’s earlier concern, “Content thyself, Andrea. Though I sleep, / Yet is my mood soliciting their souls.” (Kyd 3.15.19-20). The chorus can play the role of a foreshadower and a way to relate to the audience, and The Spanish Tragedy is a good example of this.
            Using the aforementioned examples of the role of the chorus, the chorus seems to help the action in the play. The role of the chorus as an actor in the play helps the plays action move along, such as its role in Oedipus. The chorus’ role in Doctor Faustus also helped to move the play along, it allowed for scenes that would have been unnecessary or cumbersome to be left out by simply describing what happened or was happening. The chorus helped to lay the groundwork for upcoming scenes by providing necessary background for the scene.  It also provided a summary of the morals to take from the play, thereby giving the play a [APPOSITIVE] little more meaning: a purpose. Lastly, its role as a foreshadower and as a way to connect the audience is demonstrated in The Spanish Tragedy.  Andrea, [ADJECTIVES OUT OF ORDER] concerned and questioning, helps to connect the audience with the play, since the audience would be feeling similar emotions. While Revenge, [PRESENT PARTICIPLE] appearing indifferent and unconcerned, provides assurances in a way that would most likely draw the audience deeper into the play. Revenge’s answers would be as if directed to the audience, and it would leave them with expectancy for the promised revenge.

Monday, October 4, 2010

The Dora experience

*sorry for the late posting--first chance I've had to sit down and write it (I didn't get back until Sunday at 7 P.M. and didn't have access to a computer all weekend--the woods tend to limit access).

I didn't really have a hard time understanding the Dora reading, it seemed to make sense to me, even if my expereince was very different. I don't remember ever placing periods between every word. When I did write sentences, it was usually copying them down. But then again, I only attended Kindergarten for about 6 months before my family moved and I began homeschooling. After that I remember focusing on reading in a book called "My First Step," which was about a family with two siblings and their adventures (I continued reading this series of books, which became more advanced as I went from grade to grade). Aside from learning to write words (correct spelling and vocab meaning), I didn't write until later in my eduaction and by then I had a grasp of how a sentence was structured.

What I found interesting and wish there had been more of a discussion on was how closely related family talk and writing were. I've read research on how closely related reading and writing are (and know it from experience), but I've never heard about how tied together talk and writing are beyond knowing that people tend to write like they talk. But I have heard that vocabulary and social interaction are pretty dependent on family. I think it's interesting how the two are related, but I wanted to know more about how they are tied together.

As to what I disagreed with, it would have to be how intense the teacher was in the learning process. I liked how the teacher allowed her students to explore, but the fact that her students were exhausted showed that the level of learning she was requiring was probably a little too high for her students. The point is to stretch what they know, not tear expanding muscles by making them exhausted. I feel the teacher could have eased a little more into their learning process but carrying it out over a slightly longer stretch of time, as well as providing a little more scaffolding to ease on the building tension between what the students know and what they are learning.

Question: Did anyone's learning experience align with Dora's? In what ways?

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Some Grammar Frustration

It continues to amaze me how many grammar rules I have forgotten—not that I never use them, but that I can’t explain the rules or why I place a comma where I do, etc.. I remember learning about conjunctions, but I don’t remember what I learned. Though, now maybe I will remember with the acronym FANBOYS, since acronyms help me to remember. For me, writing has become simply something I do; it’s not something I overly think about.
Even this last week I was asked by a friend what part of writing “is” was and I couldn’t remember, then we learned it was a linking verb in class. I never really think about what part of grammar a word falls into, I simply write. If it sounds funny, then I change the sentence until I am satisfied with it.
With all the different rules, it makes me wonder how often I am wrong in the way I write. The idea of being all wrong is scary and allows me to appreciate how students must feel when they turn in their work and then get all red back. It’s not a pleasant feeling. Especially since even when I do learn a grammar rule, every once in a while I still get mixed up and have to remind myself of the correct rule—even when I’ve been using that rule for years!
Though I think it’s important that students know the basic rules, I don’t want them to feel like they are set in stone—after all, sometimes the rules can be broken on purpose and it adds a deeper level of richness to one’s writing. I don’t want them to get so caught up in the rules of grammar that they forget how to write freely and creatively. The rules simply help our writing make more sense and be understandable to those who read it—it is essentially the way we talk written on paper, with all the pauses, stops, excitement. I don’t want my students to hate writing because they get so caught up in the rules of it; I want my students to know the basics so they can write better and be understood. Few things are more frustrating that not being understood, especially when you have an important point to make.

Question: In teaching students grammar rules, how do you prevent them from becoming frustrated with all the rules?

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Creative vs. Academic

As much as I love writing, reading, and English in general, it’s weird to me that I never really gave much attention to subject—verb—object agreement. I knew what it was and I knew in general how to locate each, but I never really thought about it and how it worked—like what would happen if you removed one or switched them around. I’ve never taken the time out to actually check if a sentence is complete or not in someone’s writing. If it sounds odd, I can generally pick out what needs to be fixed, but never really focused on the why.

As one who enjoys creative writing (both the reading of novels and the writing), I’ve always figured that “errors” were intentional. Like using a single word sentence to add emphasis—incorrect grammatically, but creatively it works. However, if that single word sentence had been used in a report or a research paper, I probably would have freaked out. Seriously. I suppose examples like this are why we’re not allowed to use creative writing pieces in class—because creative writing seems to have its own set of rules.

But I did not know about the different kinds of verbs. I had no idea that there were transitive and intransitive verbs. Granted, I’ve used them all my life, but I never stopped to consider how sometimes a verb did not have an object/noun attached to it or whether that was right or wrong. If it sounded odd, then I would mentally fix it in my head (unless it was me checking someone’s work). I guess it’s like Barbara said, we’ve used most of these rules in our own writing, now we’re just naming what we use.


It still surprises me how the rules I thought were “rules,” really weren’t rules at all. Rather, they were someone’s interpretation of a grammar gray area. BUT even if the rules are not rules, there are still times when it is appropriate and times when it is not.

As a creative writer, I break the rules intentionally at times—though I honestly could not tell you when, since I just put what feels and sounds right. BUT even when I break them, I do it with intention and a purpose. For example, I use short choppy sentences to confuse readers (so they feel the confusion of the person they are reading about) and to add a tense feeling of suspense; I also use one word sentences to emphasize a point or to add to the drama of the situation. It’s so cool to me how grammar can change the mood, meaning, and feel of a story!


Question: Are there ever times in academic and/or professional writing when it would be appropriate to break the rules of grammar (I’m not talking gray areas)?

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Gray Areas

It’s interesting to me how there are gray areas in grammar. I always thought grammar was right or wrong—black or white. I was always taught that if there is an “s” at the end of a noun and it was supposed to be a possessive noun then all one had to do was put an apostrophe. Granted, I knew that it could be Chris’s vs. Chris’, but at I thought that was just a matter of preference. I didn’t know that there was such a thing as “house style grammar” where there were multiple gray areas in regards to apostrophes, dashes, ellipses, commas (before an “and” or not?).


One “house style” which I noticed in People magazine is in regards to numbers. I had always been told that when a number is less than ten, you spell it out; if over 10, then you could write the number. But People magazine seems to spell numbers out only when they are used as a noun—which seems odd to me, because of what I have been taught, but at least they are consistent in this method (at least, as far as I have seen). They also only use periods between acronyms if they are part of the title of the piece, otherwise they leave the periods out.

I honestly can’t figure out whether gray areas are a good thing in grammar or a bad thing. Gray areas make it difficult to pin down exactly what to use, but they also leave freedom to create style. These gray areas are FUN, STYLISTIC, CREATIVE. But they are also DIFFICULT, INCONSISTANT, TROUBLESOME. It’s hard to pin down whether it’s a good or bad thing that there is gray, rather than simply right and wrong answers. There are benefits and downfalls to the lack of regularity in grammar.

For example, I think it’s cool that writers can choose their own “house style,” since it’s a writer’s style that makes them individuals and separates them from other writers. But my problem is in teaching grammar, how does one know what to teach? Do we need to teach every rule, every style, and every gray area? It seems rather inconstant, since what one teacher says is right might not be true for another teacher who would mark it as wrong.

However, in a lot of ways, the lack of congruence is unfair. After all, my students are going to be taught one way of grammar, but another teacher later down the line may use a different form of grammar. Who is right? How is this fair to students who are being taught more than one way? Wouldn’t that seem to make teaching grammar inconsistent and confusing for them?

Saturday, August 28, 2010

Grammar Self Assessment

In my writing I tend to use a lot of comas when I could just end the sentence, instead I often choose to keep going. It’s not that the punctuation is necessarily wrong (or maybe it is, but to my knowledge it is right), it’s just that the longer a sentence is, the more tedious it becomes to read. It’s not that coma use is bad; the issue comes in when one has so many comas, that the point of ones statement, description, etc., is lost in the midst of them.


One small example of this (but not my worst example of over-use of the coma—but one of the first I found) is in my fictional story:

Wearing a regal black cape with jewels imbedded in the collar and connecting chain, he slunk like a panther to his throne, sitting down to face those present and waving his hand gracefully, as if his mere presence was enough to satisfy any need.

Again, not necessarily incorrect, yet a lot of comas were used (again, definitely not my worst). Thankfully, my coma use is not as bad as it used to be, since I am aware of it and have found other ways to continue a sentence, such as the use of semi-colons, dashes, and colons.

This leads me to one of my most recent “issues” (which I prefer to call an evolutionary step in my writing). This “problem” is that of the Dash. Just as Barbara has a overactive love for Dash, so do I! Ever since I discovered dash, I began to enjoy using it—often much more than I need to. I’ve used 3-4 dashes in one paragraph. Of course, I then realize what I’ve done and I go back to fix it—which is sad, because I do enjoy double-tapping my dash key in order to make the break. So again, it’s a problem I can have, but when reviewing what I wrote, I always discover it and correct it. Despite my corrections, it’s not long before I bring my friend Dash back onto the page to add life to the party of other punctuation marks—I can’t help it, he has some great lines (I know, bad pun)! Even looking back on this paragraph, I’ve used the long dash 3 times.

But even though I can overuse some of these punctuation marks, I can’t say I regret it too terribly. It wasn’t that long ago that the only punctuation marks I used were comas and periods—which excluded the “variety fun pack” that is available to me now and that bring life, variance, and a level of richness I did not have in my writing when I started. As I said earlier, I prefer to look at my use of grammar as evolving (like Barbara explained to us in class), because it is! Yes, I use a lot of comas and dashes, and even parenthesis (but only in informal writing—when I tend to use them a lot, very rarely in papers or my fictional works), but I look at it as adding character to what might otherwise be dull and mundane. After all, who wants to go to a party when every guest is the exact same two characters (comas and periods)?