"Isn't it pretty to think so?"

I don’t really watch too many movies, so I’m having a hard time coming up with some favorite endings. But, I think the ending of The Squid and the Whale was pretty good. It didn't sugar coat anything while still giving us a bit of resolution between characters,  as Walt spends some time with the squid and the whale, which, in a way, represented his relationship with his mother when he was young.

I'm a bit more familiar with books.

Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises has one of the best endings. The whole book is about a disillusioned group of young people that are struggling to find their own purpose after the war. The very last line of the book is, “Isn’t it pretty to think so?”, which perfectly sums up all the apathy, indifference, and disillusionment that causes the characters so much pain throughout the novel.

So many Hemingways

Hamlet has another great ending. While we of course know that a bunch of people are going to die at the end, by closing with Fortinbras overtaking as ruler, it’s as though the story has come full circle with a new leader (like Hamlet’s uncle at the beginning), even though we aren’t exactly sure it will be less corrupt than the previous kingdom.

Fortinbras, ready to rule

A Farewell to Arms by Hemingway also ends tragically but perfectly. With (sorry, spoiler alert) both the main character Lieutenant Henry’s wife and child dying at the end, I think these awful events really represent just how painful life can be, especially in relation to the rest of the events in the novel such as the war and the injuries experienced by Henry.

Lego Hemingway?

I think some of the best endings are unpredictable and often not happy and perfect, because these more realistic endings allow you to connect more emotionally to the story overall, and keeps you thinking about the novel.  I think the ending of A Temporary Matter has this realistic sadness to it, as the couple realizes that as they shared their secrets and became more open with each other, they were, in fact, distancing themselves more. Mrs. Sen’s also ends similarly, as Eliot and Mrs. Sen stop looking after each other and go back to what was ‘normal,’ although both are unhappy. The ending of This Blessed House also seems like there is not quite any resolution between the characters, as Sanjeev just ends up following Twinkle around the house searching for more leftover religious paraphernalia. However, all of these endings are real, allowing us to relate to the characters and the events in the stories even better, and therefore allowing us to learn more from them.  

Not to be confused with The Emperor of all Maladies

Essentially, this is what the best endings do: by bringing the story back together, they teach us, about ourselves, our relationships, and our environment.  And, this is what I want to do in my own story. While I’m still searching for a way to realistically and memorably link the events of the story back together, I want to be sure to use my story to teach others about the lost, the found, and our relationship to that.

How to write instead of what to write

As soon as I started rereading the article, I began picking it apart.

How did he establish a narrative at the beginning?

How did his own writing compare to what I had done throughout my blog?

What parts were interesting and what parts did he make interesting?

Throughout my own blog, I tried to work on my narrative writing using stories from my own life and then use these narratives to make more academic topics more relevant to the reader. And, so, I of course dissected his writing into segments of narrative and analysis, trying to figure out how he pieced these words together to form an article that informative and far from long-winded.

Robert Kolker creates an interesting balance in this article between story-telling and argument in order to create a piece of writing that is both interesting and informative.  One of the main things that I noticed about this article was the way Kolker began with a story, and then integrated his opinion and evidence within it.

 He takes a real person and real events, and writes about them like a narrative, beginning by setting up the environment and characters—describing the day, the classroom, and then the “main character”, Ahsan— and then establishing conflict—that “nothing about [Ahsan] suggested he was about to pull off the most brazen feat of cheating in the illustrious school’s 107-year history” (Kolker 1). Kolker walks us through the events of the day like a story, building the plot as the principal interrupts the test and accuses Ahsan of cheating. It is this story that Kolker uses to attract the reader’s attention so he can continue with the main point of the article—to report on a cheating scandal and what it means for the rest of us.

Dan Areily talks cheating:

By establishing a story early on but not yet finishing it, Kolker keeps the reader interested and ultimately makes the reader more interested in the more scientific parts of his argument—the evidence, the quotes, his own opinion. And, as the article continues, he makes Ahsan more dynamic by describing his personal history and how hard Ahsan worked to get accepted at Stuyvesant.

Rereading, I was more aware of these strategies Kolker used and thought about the ways I could integrate these story-telling strategies in my own blog posts that were more academically focused. I also paid more attention to how the cheating within the article now applied to myself now I am at college—how the consequences might be even harsher, how there is now a much wider and diverse group of people around me who have differing opinions on cheating (and who also have participated in it as well).

            (Not that there wasn’t cheating at my high school. It just wasn’t as dramatic as the scandals described in the article.)

Some cheating stats

When I read this article back in June, I focused on what I had done all throughout high school—taking in the content and then creating an analysis in response. However, reading it again after finishing my first semester of college, I was more aware of the way that this content was argued, which, perhaps, may at times be a more valuable approach.

Finding the informal in formality

Good writing is hard work

Although I was able to experiment with different styles of writing through this blog, I think in my posts there is still a distinction between when I write on more of an academic topic and I write on more of a ‘free’, personal topic; I have yet to merge the ideas within my more structured, academic style posts with the less structured formats of my ‘free’ posts.

As I wrote the two formal papers, they were, obviously, more formal. I knew that a well-written paper included an organization and structure of thoughts that helped the reader understand the argument, a variety of sentence structure, and clear, simple language. I knew what constituted a formal paper, and I stuck to those guidelines. Yet, while I do have a voice when writing these essays, it is a more rigid, more academic one. This same structured, formal voice and style of writing also applies to the more prescribed blog posts that were more academically focused, like in my post ‘For Orwell, Swan, and Gopen, less is more’.

But when I wrote on more open, ‘free’ topics, the posts tended to vary quite a bit in structure and I experimented more with the way I organized my thoughts. In posts like, ‘A Eulogy,’ the way each idea had a separate sentence, and some were grouped like stanzas gave the post a more poetic tone. And In my post ‘Quite possibly the best cup of coffee’, I decided to structure my thoughts more linearly and progressively, so that the post was more of a narrative.

Here's a pic I snapped of me writing my blog posts 

This blog introduced also me to writing about more ‘academic’ topics, but in a less serious way. While I am still beginning to lessen the distinction between my writing about more formal topics and more personal topics, I was able to at least start to establish my voice, one that communicates to a community of people, not just a professor. Through this blog I realized that there are topics that you would write about in a formal paper that you can write in a blog post, topics that are perhaps made more interesting through humor, opinion, sarcasm, and relating it to current events in the world and your own life.

However, that’s not to say I think we should disregard the formal paper. I don’t agree with the professor discussed in the article who wants to abandon the essay altogether. The formal paper is important because it teaches us how to communicate, to get an idea across by clearly establishing an argument, the structure of the essay, and the evidence. All of this is necessary to then move on to the less formal structure of a blog.

It’s sort of like back in ninth grade when we learned how to write a five-paragraph essay: the link, the lead, the thesis, the three main ideas, the quote integration, and the conclusion that restates the thesis. Thinking back to it, all of this structure seems a bit repressive. Why would they even teach us to write with such a lack of creativity? 

Oh, the five paragraph essay

However, this initial structure was necessary so that when we began developing our own theses and paragraph structures in eleventh and twelfth grade, we would have a strong foundation to base it on.  Essentially, in order to break the rules, we need to know them first. The same thing is happening here with formal writing and the blog post. The organizational and expressive skills we learn though the formal paper give us the skills necessary to then take those same ideas and write them with more personal voice and opinion within the blog.

This is what our writing would look like without the structure we learned early on

Both the academic paper and blog are valuable. However, sometimes the informality of the blog can cause us to diminish the value of what we write; because there is no formality is there, we might think less of it, and therefore not execute the best work or take the subject as seriously. Appreciating formality is a form of respect, in a way, and should not be completely disregarded. And, while I’m still trying to find this balance within my own writing, merging the formal with the personal into a blog, this project has made me realize this balance, and the importance of both formal and less formal ways of writing.

Aretha Franklin appreciating the formality of the essay:

How do you like it?

I get to go home for Thanksgiving, which means food and sleep and…brothers.

I have four of them, and whenever I tell people this, the first question they ask is

How do you like it?

I guess it’s pretty alright.

Actually, it’s a really hard question to answer because it’s all I’ve ever known. But, even though I did cry when my youngest brother was born (9 year old Alex convinced herself she would finally get a sister), it’s the greatest.

I mean, there’s always pee on the toilet seat. Always.

And dirty socks and boxers are now just a natural part of the home’s décor.

But I think none of that really matters when you get postcards in the mail like this one:

Aw man!

 Or get to take road trips like this:

Or get to eat deep fried candy bars at the State Fair like this:

Or get to have Halloweens like this:

Or get to read books like this: