Monday, May 4, 2020
Imagery In The Red Badge Of Courage Essay Example For Students
Imagery In The Red Badge Of Courage Essay ImageryThe cold passed reluctantly from the earth, and the retiring fogs revealed an army stretched out onthe hills, resting. As the landscape changed from brown to green, the army awakened, and began totremble with eagerness at the noise of rumors. It cast its eyes upon the roads, which were growingfrom long troughs of liquid mud to proper thoroughfares. A river, amber-tinted in the shadow of itsbanks, purled at the armys feet; and at night, when the stream had become of a sorrowful blackness,one could see across it the red, eyelike gleam of hostile camp-fires set in the low brows of distanthills. Once a certain tall soldier developed virtues and went resolutely to wash a shirt. He came flyingback from a brook waving his garment bannerlike. He was swelled with a tale he had heard from areliable friend, who had heard it from a truthful cavalryman, who had heard it from his trustworthybrother, one of the orderlies at division headquarters. He adopted the important air of a herald in r edand gold. Were goin t move tmorrahsure, he said pompously to a group in the company street. Weregoin way up the river, cut across, an come around in behint em. To his attentive audience he drew a loud and elaborate plan of a very brilliant campaign. When hehad finished, the blue-clothed men scattered into small arguing groups between the rows of squatbrown huts. A negro teamster who had been dancing upon a cracker box with the hilariousencouragement of twoscore soldiers was deserted. He sat mournfully down. Smoke drifted lazilyfrom a multitude of quaint chimneys. Its a lie! thats all it isa thunderin lie! said another private loudly. His smooth face was flushed,and his hands were thrust sulkily into his trousers pockets. He took the matter as an affront to him. I dont believe the derned old armys ever going to move. Were set. Ive got ready to move eighttimes in the last two weeks, and we aint moved yet. The tall soldier felT called upon to defend the truth of a rumor he himself had introduced. He and theloud one came near to fighting over it. A corporal began to swear before the assemblage. He had just put a costly board floor in his house,he said. During the early spri* Transfer interrupted!sively to the comfort of his environment because he had felt that the army might start on the march atany moment. Of late, however, he had been impressed that they were in a sort of eternal camp. Many of the men engaged in a spirited debate. One outlined in a peculiarly lucid manner all the plansof the commanding general. He was opposed by men who advocated that there were other plans ofcampaign. They clamored at each other, numbers making futile bids for the popular attention. Meanwhile, the soldier who had fetched the rumor bustled about with much importance. He wascontinually assailed by questions. Whats up, Jim? Tharmys goin t move. Ah, what yeh talkin about? How yeh know it is? Well, yeh kin blieve me er not, jest as yeh like. I dont care a hang. There was much food for thought in the manner in which he replied. He came near to convincingthem by disdaining to produce proofs. They grew much excited over it. There was a youthful private who listened with eager ears to the words of the tall soldier and to thevaried comments of his comrades. After receiving a fill of discussions concerning marches andattacks, he went to his hut and crawled through an intricate hole that served it as a door. He wishedto be alone with some new thoughts that had lately come to him. He lay down on a wide bunk that stretched across the end of the room. In the other end, crackerboxes were made to serve as furniture. They were grouped about the fireplace. A picture from anillustr ated weekly was upon the log walls, and three rifles were paralleled on pegs. Equipments hungon handy projections, and some tin dishes lay upon a small pile of firewood. A folded tent wasserving as a roof. The sunlight, without, beating upon it, made it glow a light yellow shade. A smallwindow shot an oblique square of whiter light upon the cluttered floor. The smoke from the fire attimes neglected the clay chimney and wreathed into the room, and this flimsy chimney of clay andsticks made endless threats to set ablaze the whole establishment. The youth was in a little trance of astonishment. So they were at last going to fight. On the morrow,perhaps, there would be a battle, and he would be in it. For a time he was obliged to labor to makehimself believe. He could not accept with assurance an omen that he was about to mingle in one ofthose great affairs of the earth. He had, of course, dreamed of battles all his lifeof vague and bloody conflicts that had thrilled himwith their sweep and fire. In visions he had seen himself in many struggles. He had imagined peoplessecure in the shadow of his eagle-eyed prowess. But awake he had regarded battles as crimsonblotches on the pages of the past. He had put them as things of the bygone with his thought-imagesof heavy crowns and high castles. There was a portion of the worlds history which he had regardedas the time of wars, but it, he thought, had been long gone over the horizon and had disappearedforever. From his home his youthful eyes had looked upon the war in his own country with distrust. It must besome sort of a play affair. He had long despaired of witnessing a Greeklike struggle. Such would beno more, he had said. Men were better, or more timid. Secular and religious education had effacedthe throat-grappling instinct, or else firm finance held in check the passions. He had burned several times to enlist. Tales of great movements shook the land. They might not bedistinctly Homeric, but there seemed to be much glory in them. He had read of marches, sieges,conflicts, and he had longed to see it all. His busy mind had drawn for him large pictures extravagantin color, lurid with breathless deeds. But his mother had discouraged him. She had affected to look with some contempt upon the qualityof his war ardor and patriotism. She could calmly seat herself and with no apparent difficulty give himmany hundreds of reasons why he was of vastly more importance on the farm than on the field ofbattle. She had had certain ways of expression that told him that her statements on the subject camefrom a deep conviction. Moreover, on her side, was his belief that her ethical motive in the argumentwas impregnable. At last, however, he had made firm rebellion against this yellow light thrown upon the color of hisambitions. The newspapers, the gossip of the village, his own picturings, had aroused him to anuncheckable degree. They were in truth fighting finely down there. Almost every day the newspaperprinted accounts of a decisive victory. One night, as he lay in bed, the winds had carried to him the clangoring of the church bell as someenthusiast jerked the rope frantically to tell the twisted news of a great battle. This voice of thepeople rejoicing in the night had made him shiver in a prolonged ecstasy of excitement. Later, he hadgone down to his mothers room and had spoken thus: Ma, Im going to enlist. Henry, dont you be a fool, his mother had replied. She had then covered her face with the quilt. There was an end to the matter for that night. Nevertheless, the next morning he had gone to a town that was near his mothers farm and hadenlisted in a company that was forming there. When he had returned home his mother was milkingthe brindle cow. Four others stood waiting. Ma, Ive enlisted, he had said to her diffidently. Therewas a short silence. The Lords will be done, Henry, she had finally replied, and had then continuedto milk the brindle cow. When he had stood in the doorway with his soldiers clothes on his back, and with the light ofexcitement and expectancy in his eyes almost defeating the glow of regret for the home bonds, hehad seen two tears leaving their trails on his mothers scarred cheeks. Still, she had disappointed him by saying nothing whatever about returning with his shield or on it. Hehad privately primed himself for a beautiful scene. He had prepared certain sentences which hethought could be used with touching effect. But her words destroyed his plans. She had doggedlypeeled potatoes and addressed him as follows: You watch out, Henry, an take good care of yerselfin this here fighting businessyou watch, an take good care of yerself. Dont go a-thinkin you canlick the hull rebel army at the start, because yeh cant. Yer jest one little feller amongst a hull lot ofothers, and yehve got to keep quiet an do what they tell yeh. I know how you are, Henry. Ive knet yeh eight pair of socks, Henry, and Ive put in all yer best shirts, because I want my boy tobe jest as warm and comfable as anybody in the army. Whenever they get holes in em, I want yehto send em right-away back to me, sos I kin dern em. An allus be careful an choose yer compny. Theres lots of bad men in the army, Henry. The armymakes em wild, and they like nothing better than the job of leading off a young feller like you, as aintnever been away from home much and has allus had a mother, an a-learning em to drink and swear. Keep clear of them folks, Henry. I dont want yeh to ever do anything, Henry, that yeh would beshamed to let me know about. Jest think as if I was a-watchin yeh. If yeh keep that in yer mindallus, I guess yehll come out about right. Yeh must allus remember yer father, too, child, an remember he never drunk a drop of licker in hislife, and seldom swore a cross oath. I dont know what else to tell yeh, Henry, excepting that yeh must never do no shirking, child, on myaccount. If so be a time comes when yeh have to be kilt of do a mean thing, why, Henry, dont thinkof anything cept whats right, because theres many a woman has to bear up ginst sech things thesetimes, and the Lord ll take keer of us all. Dont forgit about the socks and the shirts, child; and Ive put a cup of blackberry jam with yerbundle, because I know yeh like it above all things. Good-by, Henry. Watch out, and be a goodboy. He had, of course, been impatient under the ordeal of this speech. It had not been quite what heexpe cted, and he had borne it with an air of irritation. He departed feeling vague relief. Still, when he had looked back from the gate, he had seen his mother kneeling among the potatoparings. Her brown face, upraised, was stained with tears, and her spare form was quivering. Hebowed his head and went on, feeling suddenly ashamed of his purposes. From his home he had gone to the seminary to bid adieu to many schoolmates. They had throngedabout him with wonder and admiration. He had felt the gulf now between them and had swelled withcalm pride. He and some of his fellows who had donned blue were quite overwhelmed withprivileges for all of one afternoon, and it had been a very delicious thing. They had strutted. A certain light-haired girl had made vivacious fun at his martial spirit, but there was another anddarker girl whom he had gazed at steadfastly, and he thought she grew demure and sad at sight of hisblue and brass. As he had walked down the path between the rows of oaks, he had t urned his headand detected her at a window watching his departure. As he perceived her, she had immediatelybegun to stare up through the high tree branches at the sky. He had seen a good deal of flurry andhaste in her movement as she changed her attitude. He often thought of it. On the way to Washington his spirit had soared. The regiment was fed and caressed at station afterstation until the youth had believed that he must be a hero. There was a lavish expenditure of breadand cold meats, coffee, and pickles and cheese. As he basked in the smiles of the girls and waspatted and complimented by the old men, he had felt growing within him the strength to do mightydeeds of arms. After complicated journeyings with many pauses, there had come months of monotonous life in acamp. He had had the belief that real war was a series of death struggles with small time in betweenfor sleep and meals; but since his regiment had come to the field the army had done little but sit stilland try to keep warm. He was brought then gradually back to his old ideas. Greeklike struggles would be no more. Menwere better, or more timid. Secular and religious education had effaced the throat-grappling instinct,or else firm finance held in check the passions. He had grown to regard himself merely as a part of a vast blue demonstration. His province was tolook out, as far as he could, for his personal comfort. For recreation he could twiddle his thumbs andspeculate on the thoughts which must agitate the minds of the generals. Also, he was drilled anddrilled and reviewed, and drilled and drilled and reviewed. The only foes he had seen were some pickets along the river bank. They were a sun-tanned,philosophical lot, who sometimes shot reflectively at the blue pickets. When reproached for thisafterward, they usually expressed sorrow, and swore by their gods that the guns had explodedwithout their permission. The youth, on guard duty one night, conversed across the stream with oneof them. He was a slightly ragged man, who spat skillfully between his shoes and possessed a greatfund of bland and infantile assurance. The youth liked him personally. Yank, the other had informed him, yer a right dum good feller. This sentiment, floating to himupon the still air, had made him temporarily regret war. Various veterans had told him tales. Some talked of gray, bewhiskered hordes who were advancingwith relentless curses and chewing tobacco with unspeakable valor; tremendous bodies of fiercesoldiery who were sweeping along like the Huns. Others spoke of tattered and eternally hungry menwho fired despondent powders. Theyll charge through hells fire an brimstone t git a holt on ahaversack, an sech stomachs aint alastin long, he was told. From the stories, the youth imaginedthe red, live bones sticking out through slits in the faded uniforms. Still, he could not put a whole faith in veterans tales, for recruits were their prey. They talked muchof smoke, fire, and blood, but he could not t ell how much might be lies. They persistently yelledFresh fish! at him, and were in no wise to be trusted. However, he perceived now that it did not greatly matter what kind of soldiers he was going to fight,so long as they fought, which fact no one disputed. There was a more serious problem. He lay in hisbunk pondering upon it. He tried to mathematically prove to himself that he would not run from abattle. Previously he had never felt obliged to wrestle too seriously with this question. In his life he hadtaken certain things for granted, never challenging his belief in ultimate success, and bothering littleabout means and roads. But here he was confronted with a thing of moment. It had suddenlyappeared to him that perhaps in a battle he might run. He was forced to admit that as far as war wasconcerned he knew nothing of himself. A sufficient time before he would have allowed the problem to kick its heels at the outer portals ofhis mind, but now he felt compelled to give serious att ention to it. A little panic-fear grew in his mind. As his imagination went forward to a fight, he saw hideouspossibilities. He contemplated the lurking menaces of the future, and failed in an effort to see himselfstanding stoutly in the midst of them. He recalled his visions of broken-bladed glory, but in theshadow of the impending tumult he suspected them to be impossible pictures. He sprang from the bunk and began to pace nervously to and fro. Good Lord, whats th matterwith me? he said aloud. He felt that in this crisis his laws of life were useless. Whatever he had learned of himself was here ofno avail. He was an unknown quantity. He saw that he would again be obliged to experiment as hehad in early youth. He must accumulate information of himself, and meanwhile he resolved to remainclose upon his guard lest those qualities of which he knew nothing should everlastingly disgrace him. Overpopulation in China EssaySometimes he inclined to believing them all heroes. In fact, he usually admired in secret the superiordevelopment of the higher qualities in others. He could conceive of men going very insignificantlyabout the world bearing a load of courage unseen, and although he had known many of hiscomrades through boyhood, he began to fear that his judgment of them had been blind. Then, inother moments, he flouted these theories, and assured him that his fellows were all privatelywondering and quaking. His emotions made him feel strange in the presence of men who talked excitedly of a prospectivebattle as of a drama they were about to witness, with nothing but eagerness and curiosity apparent intheir faces. It was often that he suspected them to be liars. He did not pass such thoughts without severe condemnation of himself. He dinned reproaches attimes. He was convicted by himself of many shameful crimes against the gods of traditions. In his great anxiety his hear t was continually clamoring at what he considered the intolerableslowness of the generals. They seemed content to perch tranquilly on the river bank, and leave himbowed down by the weight of a great problem. He wanted it settled forthwith. He could not longbear such a load, he said. Sometimes his anger at the commanders reached an acute stage, and hegrumbled about the camp like a veteran. One morning, however, he found himself in the ranks of his prepared regiment. The men werewhispering speculations and recounting the old rumors. In the gloom before the break of the daytheir uniforms glowed a deep purple hue. From across the river the red eyes were still peering. In theeastern sky there was a yellow patch like a rug laid for the feet of the coming sun; and against it,black and patternlike, loomed the gigantic figure of the colonel on a gigantic horse. From off in the darkness came the trampling of feet. The youth could occasionally see dark shadowsthat moved like monsters. The regi ment stood at rest for what seemed a long time. The youth grewimpatient. It was unendurable the way these affairs were managed. He wondered how long theywere to be kept waiting. As he looked all about him and pondered upon the mystic gloom, he began to believe that at anymoment the ominous distance might be aflare, and the rolling crashes of an engagement come to hisears. Staring once at the red eyes across the river, he conceived them to be growing larger, as theorbs of a row of dragons advancing. He turned toward the colonel and saw him lift his gigantic armand calmly stroke his mustache. At last he heard from along the road at the foot of the hill the clatter of a horses galloping hoofs. Itmust be the coming of orders. He bent forward, scarce breathing. The exciting clickety-click, as itgrew louder and louder, seemed to be beating upon his soul. Presently a horseman with janglingequipment drew rein before the colonel of the regiment. The two held a short, sharp-wordedconversation . The men in the foremost ranks craned their necks. As the horseman wheeled his animal and galloped away he turned to shout over his shoulder, Dontforget that box of cigars! The colonel mumbled in reply. The youth wondered what a box of cigarshad to do with war. A moment later the regiment went swinging off into the darkness. It was now like one of thosemoving monsters wending with many feet. The air was heavy, and cold with dew. A mass of wetgrass, marched upon, rustled like silk. There was an occasional flash and glimmer of steel from the backs of all these huge crawling reptiles. From the road came creakings and grumblings as some surly guns were dragged away. The men stumbled along still muttering speculations. There was a subdued debate. Once a man felldown, and as he reached for his rifle a comrade, unseeing, trod upon his hand. He of the injuredfingers swore bitterly, and aloud. A low, tittering laugh went among his fellows. Presently they passed into a roadway and marched forward with easy strides. A dark regimentmoved before them, and from behind also came the tinkle of equipments on the bodies of marchingmen. The rushing yellow of the developing day went on behind their backs. When the sunrays at laststruck full and mellowingly upon the earth, the youth saw that the landscape was streaked with twolong, thin, black columns which disappeared on the brow of a hill in front and rearward vanished in awood. They were like two serpents crawling from the cavern of the night. The river was not in view. The tall soldier burst into praises of what he thought to b e his powers ofperception. Some of the tall ones companions cried with emphasis that they, too, had evolved the same thing,and they congratulated themselves upon it. But there were others who said that the tall ones planwas not the true one at all. They persisted with other theories. There was a vigorous discussion. The youth took no part in them. As he walked along in careless line he was engaged with his owneternal debate. He could not hinder himself from dwelling upon it. He was despondent and sullen,and threw shifting glances about him. He looked ahead, often expecting to hear from the advance therattle of firing. But the long serpents crawled slowly from hill to hill without bluster of smoke. A dun-colored cloudof dust floated away to the right. The sky overhead was of a fairy blue. The youth studied the faces of his companions, ever on the watch to detect kindred emotions. Hesuffered disappointment. Some ardor of the air which was causing the veteran commands to movewith gleea lmost with songhad infected the new regiment. The men began to speak of victory asof a thing they knew. Also, the tall soldier received his vindication. They were certainly going tocome around in behind the enemy. They expressed commiseration for that part of the army whichhad been left upon the river bank, felicitating themselves upon being a part of a blasting host. The youth, considering himself as separated from the others, was saddened by the blithe and merryspeeches that went from rank to rank. The company wags all made their best endeavors. Theregiment tramped to the tune of laughter. The blatant soldier often convulsed whole files by his biting sarcasms aimed at the tall one. And it was not long before all the men seemed to forget their mission. Whole brigades grinned inunison, and regiments laughed. BibliographyI am 13 and I just wrote the best paper in the world!English Essays
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.