Something Rich And Strange Short Story

Stephen Crane’s “The Open Boat” and Jack London’s “To Build a Fire” include parallel ideas of Man’s hopelessness in the natural world. Through out both short stories the authors bring up questions of man’s fate and his relationship with nature as well as carry a theme of naturalism. When nature seems to repeatedly play against man, the reader wonders we whether nature is cruel and sinister, making it difficult for man to live. Evidence in the the two stories such as the animal’s presence, the environments, and the different human characters, in both stories leads one to believe that nature is not in fact out to get man, but it is a neutral, indifferent factor.

The two articles help readers understand that when man and nature are together they create knowledge and emotions. Both writers describe feelings that one might feel when in touch with nature; in different ways, both elaborate on the fact that if man and nature were to disconnect then an imbalance would occur. “The river was

In Stephen Crane’s short story “The Open Boat,” the central theme is an epic battle of man against nature. It is within this theme that Crane endeavors to provide a visual of man’s limited and misguided perspective of nature. As survivors of a shipwreck, the group of men doggedly attempts to row a small boat to shore amidst turbulent waves and currents. It is here that Crane embeds nature with characteristics that seem evil and at times divine, “If she has decided to drown me, why did she not do it in the beginning and save me all the trouble” (Crane 344-345)? Nature is seen as an adversary with the ability to determine the fate of the group. Man, in the beginning, views nature as a malignant entity that is seeking their destruction. In this

In “The Open Boat,” Stephen Crane demonstrates nature as a destructive symbolic element that describes an objective correlative aspect. There are specific events and characteristics which expresses emotions in the form of artistic revelation. For example, the mysterious experiences of nature as a character creates a persuasive impression. Stephen Crane illustrates descriptive phenomena as an exceptional delicacy: “The manner of her scramble over these walls of water is a mystic thing, and moreover, at the top of them were ordinarily these problems in white water, the foam racing down from the summit of each wave, requiring a new leap, and a leap from the air” (585). The beauty of nature compares a personality with a belief of faith in the human

Bull assisted yanking down his boxer briefs as the Doctor knelt behind the Sergeant and parted Bull’s fuckable ass.

Sheriff Eldritch Meeks straightened his hat and emerged from the Chevy Bel Air. Its beacon singed into the back of his neck. Red. Eldritch watched thin sheets of dust sweep down the highway. Everything was fuzzy. He wiped rain from his eyes and took a deep breath. The knife twisted harder into his brainstem. Headaches. The pain was getting worse. Stabbing. Pinching. Wriggling. Eldritch needed a cup of coffee and a cigarette. He needed a fucking detox. But it would have to wait.

Booker arrived at the chapel early Monday morning, keen to get his debriefing with Tom over with as quickly as possible. He was professional enough to know he needed to put his disappointment to one side and concentrate on their assignment, but the sting of Tom’s rejection still lingered. He thought they’d made a connection, and he’d looked forward to building a solid friendship with the shy officer. But despite a promising start, he realized he now had no choice but to accept what Penhall had told him. Tom was weird, and his mercurial temperament made it impossible to break down the barriers that kept him at arm’s length. Whether Will was responsible for his brother’s character traits or not was still open for debate, but as far as Booker

As expected, when Tom opened his locker the following morning, he found a note from Tyrell. Typed on a ripped piece of paper, the instructions were clear yet concise.

The muttered epitet escaped FBI Special Agent Carter's lips, and whisked through the cold night air as he stared down at the corpse. Despite his hopes when the call had come in, there was no doubt.

Bucky had begun his fifth circuit of their tiny living room when he heard the tell-tale thump of the busted step leading to their floor: the board was near-rotted underneath the worn carpet and always slid out a bit and back in each time you stepped on it.

“Hey, not bad,” Verin remarked as they entered the hangar where the Thunderclap sat. “That thing as roomy as it looks?” The bounty hunter radiated energy on a level that rivaled Fynta. Jorgan sympathized with the man. He clearly worried about his wife, but forced a cheerful facade for reasons Jorgan would never understand. Cormac did the same when he was nervous, whereas Fynta fought back with snark, and Dorne with research. Aric wondered if he had a coping mechanism, then remembered his reputation for being a hardass.

She'd been in his apartment for a matter of minutes, and Elena was already naked and about to sink to her knees to suck his cock. Brett couldn't help but feel a little guilt, and possibly shame, run through this veins, even as his erection throbbed in his pants. No one normally needing to pay a woman for sex him, and even though there was a purpose behind it, that still didn't sit well with him. Neither did the fact that his employee's dates usually at least wined and dined them first, with sex, if it occurred desert on top of the main for the client, rather than the purpose in itself. They were escorts, not prostitutes.

Dahlia’s staggering around like a drunk person. She hugs a tree for support. When I ask

I had prepared myself for weeks for the wake up call. I had assembled my horse as well and tonight was the night for a midnight ride to the place. I ran out the door in boots and my night wear. I jumped and swung my leg over the horse and fixed the musket strap to settle across my shoulder. I pressed my heels into her side and she took off. I rode my horse as fast as I could, my heart beating fast. I had been trained for this. I had my muskett by my side loaded and ready for a shot.

He took in the calm look on the man’s face, the way his high cheekbones were beautifully illuminated in the orange glow of road lights- making him look almost otherworldly. The faint uptick at the corner of Stu’s lips, the way his stupid blue hair lightly blew with the aircon, the way he drummed his long fingers absently on the steering wheel were inescapable- Murdoc knew.