Research Paper

January 14, 2008

Rarely am I satisfied with a paper — and this was one of the few exceptions.  As the final paper of the year, I feel as though it was one in which my abilities truly shone through my writing.

Research Paper

AFTA Analytical Essay

November 19, 2007

Ahhh…the analytical essay: I really don’t have much to say about this one, aside from the fact that it’s incredibly brief. It was an interesting topic to pursue: social decline in A Farewell to Arms. I think it took me until the second or third body paragraph to really get into a rhythm, and the introduction sounds stiff as a result. span>


Chris Sonzogni
Ms. Robinson
Honors English 3
December 4, 2007

Ulterior Motives: The Underlying Theme of A Farewell to Arms

Moral decay in society is prevalent. Through a multitude of examples in A Farewell to Arms, Ernest Hemingway alludes to such a decline. His examples of social decline can be grouped into three sub-categories: a decline in religious beliefs, a decline in ethics, and an overall loss of individual identity. While Hemingway never explicitly enumerates his visions of social degeneration, such examples clearly manifest his intent in the reader’s mind.

Arguably the most noticeable and prevalent example of social decline in A Farewell to Arms is the blatant disregard for anything remotely spiritual by the majority of the main characters. In the preliminary chapters, when the protagonist, Frederick Henry, receives a Saint Anthony medallion for good luck, he treats the figurine with a scarcely withheld skepticism. Henry’s somewhat sarcastic treatment of religion and religious symbols is reaffirmed when he, upon being asked how his blistered palms feel, comments, “there is no hole” in his side (285). However, Henry is by no means the only character responsible for casting a negative light on piety. Beginning as early as the second chapter, many of his fellow soldiers are responsible for congregating to gibe at a priest. While the aforementioned treatment is hardly prevalent in A Farewell to Arms, Hemingway’s inclusion of such remarks notably reinforces his underlying thesis: society as a whole is degenerating.

Another intrinsic example of social decline exists in Ernest Hemingway’s treatment of morality in A Farewell to Arms. From the very plot of the entire novel, in which the main character treats his affections as a game, and his suitor as simply another to be played with, Hemingway deftly, yet subtly alludes to the fact that traditional morals are deftly trampled in our society. Time and time again, Frederick Henry seems to shrug off the pains and attachments of “love.” Perhaps the most lucid example occurs in the final sentence of the novel, when a suddenly alone Frederick shuns the death of his beloved Catherine (in addition to that of his newborn child), and simply acquiesces to “walk back to the hotel in the rain,” without any signs of emotion or grief (332). Decidedly more shocking to the reader than his “love” affair with Ms. Barkley, and certainly no less officiating to Hemingway’s assault on morality, is Henry’s deliberate (and rather candid) killing of a fellow general while moving his ambulance corps away from the front line. The killing comes and passes abruptly in the middle of the men’s attempts to free an ambulance stuck in the mud. Hemingway’s prose is illustrative of the absolute lack of remorse or emotion that any of the men show to the slain general. In fact, Piani (another ambulance driver) is heard to casually remark, “You certainly shot the sergeant,” in the midst of a conversation about bicycles. Such hasty, senseless killings and egocentric attitude attribute to Hemingway’s book-long allusion of social degeneration.

Loss of identity (possibly a result of Ernest Hemingway’s modernist literary tendencies) is another prevalent theme in A Farewell to Arms that melds perfectly with Hemingway’s ideas of social deterioration. In fact, the reader does not learn the name of the protagonist until Chapter 7 of the novel, at which point it is only casually mentioned. Such failure to differentiate and humanize is also evident in the constant confusion surrounding Frederick Henry’s nationality. For instance, while Henry is recovering from war-related wounds in Milan, he requests a barber. Little does he know that the entire time, the barber thinks him to be Austrian: an enemy (91). Blurring of Frederick’s national identity is actually integral to the novel, as he is an American citizen, but serving the Italian war effort. Rarely is “home” mentioned, nor does it even play any major role Fredrick’s character. It seems to the reader that the only identity that Frederick can assume is that of Catherine Barkley’s “lover.” Throughout the novel, he associates only with his lust-driven fantasies and memories of her, and is left awestruck and emotionless once again after she perishes following childbirth.

Overall, Hemingway subtly encourages his idea that society is declining, through a host of examples. Said examples pertain mostly to decline in religion, moral values, and an overall loss of character identity. It is eerie to look now at such predictions with Hemingway’s future now our past and see how true they are – how society as a whole is in decline.

Descriptive Essay

November 11, 2007

I loved writing this essay…my family hated it when I wrote it, because it’s all I talked about for about a week. By the time this was assigned, I had finally settled into a “writing mode,” and in comparison to my Crucible essay, this is far better.

Sonzogni 1

Chris Sonzogni
October 8, 2007

 

A Steady March Toward Mortality: Death and Understanding through a Dandelion.

Nature is more resilient than man. It stands ramrod-straight — a revolutionary before a firing squad – in the midst of a seemingly endless row of pastel-colored cubes. Each boxy house has a waxy, almond-and-apple-colored palm standing guard against the tyrannical, yet suspiciously absent natural landscape. Such a landscape could attack and trample each perfectly manicured lawn at any time. The dewy green spear with its brilliant yellow tip is set, inflexible from enduring countless seasons, and already prepared for countless more.

Steadfast against the ceaseless barrage of developers, contractors, tourists, and landscapers, the brittle dandelion serves as a focal point for none but the most keen-eyed observer through which to see the controlled inevitable. Fate is determined to play out against the black-and-white-speckled asphalt, in the form of a weed. A weed is deemed useless by humanity, and cast away from its ironically more beautiful, yet less-fortunate (and hence now gone) flowered brethren, only to stand, sad and alone, but proud. He seems to pay no heed to the procession of the rushing by, yet in the process sheds a silent, invisible tear for each accursed automobile. The outcast blossom is mute; however without articulation, it manages our own demise.

As a prophet, the flaming torch of goldenrod refuses to pass judgment, and instead submits to the whim of its “vastly intelligent” disciples. It lacks the capacity to achieve coherent thought. However, it is capable of more understanding than those who possess such capabilities, and such, the dandelion passes the time without regret. Knowing that its destruction is eminent, it shows neither fear nor impatience, only wisdom.

Such, the life of the dandelion passes: with nary a glance by any “higher” species. Every sentient being is too intent on its own destruction than the orderly procession of life that encompasses the small, bitter weed. Somehow, life is cyclic, yet finite. We reproduce, grow, and develop in order to maintain our own species, yet at the unwritten cost of thousands more. Each new mansion that decimates the serene, virgin forest is not a nail in our own coffin, but another shovel-full of dirt to be placed on top. Still, we proceed, like cows to slaughter: Mute, yet ceaseless in prayer; individualistic, but simply another part of a whole. To cry salvation is but a bitter irony.

This essay was my first of the year, and it shows. Looking back, I’m really not impressed in any way with it.

Sonzogni 1

Chris Sonzogni
September 16, 2007

Hundreds of Years, Few Differences:The Alarming Similarities Betwixt the Leader of the Free World and A Seventeenth Century Preacher

One would believe all too easily that the leader of the free world in the 21st century and an inane preacher from the 1700′s would have few similarities, yet in the wake of tragedies on the respective scale of their rule, they governed with astonishing similarity. From their advantageous use of public uncertainty through their turn to faith for political answers, to their gradual decline in the public opinion of their leadership, there are a myriad of striking (and unnerving) similarities between President George W. Bush and Reverend Parris.

In the wake of any tragedy – from the smallest accidents to the most grandiose schemes – the public looks to their leaders for courage and direction in the time of uncertainty and chaos. Oftentimes, when such leadership fails to take competent command, the public trust diminishes. However, if the governing body instead uses the air of public uncertainty and fear to its advantage, the end results can be even more disastrous. A prime example occurred in colonial Salem, where twenty people met their unfortunate demise as a result of a faulty judicial system spurned on by a reverend named Parris’ desire to use any means possible to improve his standing with the village. Disturbingly similar is the use of the attacks on September 11th, 2001, by President George Bush to increase public support of his regime through the hasty and arguably under-planned attack of Afghanistan. Such instantaneous and impulsive actions may seem immediately beneficial, but in the long run lead to unforeseen problems. It is the people who, in the end, pay the ultimate sacrifice to stroke a leader’s ego.

Another famous, yet no less disastrous move on the part of a public official has been a refusal to separate “Church” from “State”. The Bill of Rights to the United States Constitution vaguely separated the entities under the First Amendment, however President Bush has repeatedly referred to his religious convictions in public speeches, much as Reverend Parris, the church leader in Salem referred to God’s will multiple times. Both the “War on Terror” and Salem’s witch hunt have been referred to as “missions” from God by each leader, or were perceived as such by the public. In fact, President Bush was heard as telling the Palestinian Prime Minister Abu Mazen, “God told me to strike at al Qaeda and I struck them, and then he instructed me to strike at Saddam [Hussein], which I did…”(quoted by Arnon Regular in “The Haaretz Reporter”). Such remarks not only echo as pristine reasons for the ‘freedom of religion’ that we hold so dear today, but also prove that our founding fathers were rightly substantiated in their desire to separate the will of man to govern from the will of man to believe.

Even more striking of a similarity between both President Bush and Reverend Parris is the decline in public opinion as each leader’s respective “war” progressed. Recent public opinion polls show that only 33% of the country approve of the job that President Bush is doing ruling our country (http://www.pollingreport.com/). Similarly, in Salem, a clergy who was called forth from a neighboring village to prove that witchcraft was, in fact, present, begged one of the accused’s spouses to impel him to lie about being involved with witchcraft in order to save his (the accused’s) life. While the public may not always be “right”, the steady and unchanging abatement of public belief in their mission is certainly no coincidence.

Though both a 17th century minister and the leader of the free world have completely opposite responsibilities and outlooks, their errors in leadership and similar styles of management over their individual jurisdictions are eerily congruous. It was once said that we can look to our past to predict the future, and such statements hold true, especially when one considers both men’s advantageous use of public uncertainty, constant turns to faith for political answers, and gradual decline in public opinion of their leadership.