“Death of a Soldier”

A soldier is one who is supposed to obey orders, no matter the cost. John is one such man who gave all he had for the cause. Louisa May Alcott plays out his death in such a way that I, for one, cannot help but feel empathetic for this brave soul. “Death of a Soldier” supports this feeling through diction, imagery, and selection of detail.
In a hospital for Civil War soldiers, lies a young man on his “wounded back” so that he does not “suffocate” from a punctured lung and broken rib. This first image displayed in paragraph one strikes a chord in one’s heart, and the beginnings of sorrow begin to bloom. As he lies there, “There’s not the slightest hope for him.” (paragraph 3) This single statement is particularly saddening when compared to the happier mood with which most doctors treat their patients. To say that there is no hope is disconcerting to the reader, and this comment is remembered as John’s personality is described. One’s heart goes out to this “brave” young man, only to be broken as soon as the aforementioned prophecy is fulfilled. John’s last wish was for the men to tell his family that “[he] did [his] best.” He fought without a second thought. “[He] obeyed orders”, and also mentions that he thought it was “cowardly” to be hit from behind rather than from the front. He wanted to meet whatever was coming head-on. This reference to following orders and being hit from behind gives the impression that the company had been retreating and that John had been hit in the process. The “but” included in his sentence says two things, the first being that he thought you shouldn’t run, and would have preferred to stay in the battle and fight for what he believed in. The second idea represented is taking the role of a soldier and doing what you are told. John would have done whatever his superiors had asked without a thought for himself, and this only proves a kind and caring spirit ready to do what it had come for. This kind of strong and determined spirit is not often seen in humans, but when it is, it is extraordinary. The thought of this young blacksmith being pulled from the world tugs on one’s heartstrings, evoking emotions akin to those expressed by the author at the boy’s death.

Olympic Rainbows

At the swish of a blade, a small storm of snow showers the people who will make or break her young career. This is the world of figure skating: a more delicate planet in the universe of sports. Anna Quindlen’s editorial meant to convince her readers in both a nostalgic and yet disappointing manner that the course figure skating has taken is not surprising, and we should have seen it coming.
When one awakens from a deep sleep, snatches of a sweet dream are remembered and sometimes taken with us throughout the day. Often one longs to return to that state where everything was perfect and happened the way it was planned. Figure skating is akin to that “dream”-like state. It is the feeling of the ice sliding swiftly underneath you and the sensation of the breeze blowing through your hair that hold this to be true. It is skating for the fun of it. It is dancing on frozen, “silver-bright” water for no other purpose than to have it reflect tiny beams of light onto your silver sequins. But this dream “[shatters]” when a rival, no longer content to be merely a competitor, takes a course of action that breaks your wings and pulls your legs from under you. These “cutthroat” actions are common enough in sports, and figure skating is no longer able to float on cloud nine above everything else. What a sad day it is when so beautiful and “glorious” an Olympic event is torn to pieces. Quindlen may be imagining skating to be better than it was, but it is true that the greater something is, the more shock it creates when it finally does fall. And the world was disappointed to find that these angelic and artful athletes had lowered themselves to the money-hounding players in professional sports.