Across the smoke-infested fields came a brown swarm of running men who were giving shrill yells. They came on, stooping and swinging their rifles at all angles. A flag, tilted forward, sped near the front. As he caught sight of them the youth was momentarily startled by a thought that perhaps his gun was not loaded. He stood trying to rally his faltering intellect so that he might recollect the moment when he had loaded, but he could not.  A hatless general pulled his dripping horse to a stand near the colonel of the 304th. He shook his fist in the other's face. "You've got to hold 'em back!" he shouted, savagely; "you've got to hold 'em back!" In his agitation the colonel began to stammer. "A-all r-right, General, all right, by Gawd! We-we 'll do our--we-we 'll d-d-do-do our best, General." The general made a passionate gesture and galloped away. The colonel, perchance to relieve his feelings, began to scold like a wet parrot. The youth, turning swiftly to make sure that the rear was unmolested, saw the commander regarding his men in a highly resentful manner, as if he regretted above everything his association with them.  The man at the youth's elbow was mumbling, as if to himself: "Oh, we 're in for it now! oh, we 're in for it now!"  The captain of the company had been pacing excitedly to and fro in the rear. He coaxed in schoolmistress fashion, as to a congregation of boys with primers. His talk was an endless repetition. "Reserve your fire, boys--don't shoot till I tell you--save your fire--wait till they get close up--don't be damned fools--" Perspiration streamed down the youth's face, which was soiled like that of a weeping urchin. He frequently, with a nervous movement, wiped his eyes with his coat sleeve. His mouth was still a little ways open.  He got the one glance at the foe-swarming field in front of him, and instantly ceased to debate the question of his piece being loaded. Before he was ready to begin--before he had announced to himself that he was about to fight--he threw the obedient well-balanced rifle into position and fired a first wild shot. Directly he was working at his weapon like an automatic affair.

Analysis:

 Objective Criticism -  Stephen Crane was one of the first authors to use realistic images, in his book the Red badge of courage he gave vivid images of war wounds and dead bodies.  Cranes style used a lot of description for instance, from the piece above he described the fleet of an army as a swarm.

Pragmatic Criticism - Crane also used a good description to describe the main characters face and his emotions through out the book. An example of this from the piece above is: “Perspiration streamed down the youth's face, which was soiled like that of a weeping urchin. He frequently, with a nervous movement, wiped his eyes with his coat sleeve”.   He made the reader feel what the “youth” (main character) felt at each point during his war experience.

Expressive Criticism – Crane shows the reader throughout the book that war isn’t a glorious thing and it reveals many emotions in a person that they thought didn’t exist in them.

Mimetic Criticism - Another specific aspect of Cranes style is the way he uses the language of his characters.  He makes the language realistic for the type of character he is using.  For example when he was writing about the soldiers in the war he made them talk like they were nervous.  He made their speech stutter, and the reader could instantly tell what the soldier was feeling at this point in the book.  Also most of the characters in the book were quite young and lived out in the country when they were home.  Crane used this and he made his characters come to life by giving them the slang that a young person would use in that time period of the book.

Brief imitation of Cranes style

 The young inexperienced sniper watched his target with ease.  The more he thought about actually killing his unsuspecting target the more it made him ill.  A nervous sickness clenched his stomach, giving him a slight feeling that he was going to be sick.  The longer he looked through his scope the more his hands trembled, making his aim not what it should be.  To the young soldier, looking through his scope and looking at things with his own eyes were two different worlds.  He took aim once more, putting the enemy’s head in the cross hairs.  He closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger, when he opened his eyes all that he could see left through his scope was a red mist, which briefly filled the air.  He had struck his target with success.
 

My own Style of Writing

The cold wind floods the deserted area, and makes you feel like Mother Nature injected you with liquid nitrogen. The colours of orange, red, and yellow which were once a bright green break free and flood the sky only for a moment.  The bare, gritty ground is soon partially painted with these new temporary colours.  The surface is covered with different textures that vary in some places, from very fine to rough and jagged.  A worn path is engraved from the ground to a suspended structure that has seemed to be there for many years, and has been through many seasonal changes.  The dark old rotted boards creek as the wind blows, the structure shows large chips of wood gone from the boards like a war veteran showing their battle wounds.  The boards are supported by a rusty structure of metal poles that seem to have a few more years of life in them.  The water flows freely under the beaten up dock and crashes among the shore like a car smashing into a wall.  As the water seeps up the shore it takes the fallen colours like a thief shoplifting from the local corner store.  The multi-colour array of leaves covers the surfaced of the constant changing shoreline.  The leaves slowly drift out further and further on the glass surface of the lake.

Analysis:

 Objective Criticism - In most of my pieces of writing I described or talked about nature.  I tried to describe every movement that would happen in any situation in nature.  Giving the reader an image in their head, and making them know exactly what I was talking about.  For example in the piece of writing above, when I wrote about an old beaten up dock and described what the boards were like, I compared them to a war veteran.

Pragmatic Criticism - I also tried to give the reader sense calmness when I talked about the glass surface of the lake, the leaves were more like the readers everyday thoughts drifting away.

Expressive Criticism – The purpose about this piece is to give the reader a specific description on the scene, this piece of writing shows that I find it easier to describe nature.