Critical book analysis - Dissertation

Critical book analysis:

The Lord of the Rings, by J. R. R. Tolkien

Jennifer Richards

Introduction

For my dissertation I will be analysing three books instead of one; although as a publication this trilogy comes in the form of one novel with three parts. I have chosen this for analysis, despite my story's theme of existentialism, because the basic premise is a direct parallel to the ultimate goal of my own. While my dissertation deals with absurdist and philosophical themes, the quote that inspired me to devise this short story is the reason, given by the author, for creating his world; “I wanted to create a poetic legend that I felt England lacked.” - (Tolkien). I took this on a larger scale; and expanded beyond British folklore and history. The trilogy, or three part novel, that I will be analysing is Lord of the Rings. Although this epic never made it into the literary canon, for its heavy indulgence in the realms of fantasy, it maintains deep rooted connections to the world at the time it was written. Many have looked at it as a reflection of the war-torn world during the early 20^th century, considering J. R. R. Tolkien's role in the second world war; he may have been little more than a conscripted foot soldier, his time spent in the trenches is where he devised the majority of his work, and was a prominent influence for him. Despite not being a part of the canon, his written work played a heavy role in literary and artistic inspiration over the next 80 years or so. Pioneering the movement of self-expansive escapism and fantasy literature, his work has played a major inspirational role in my life. It is for this reason that I cite this trilogy as the main influence for my first professional piece of creative writing.

Timeline

Seeping his words in the remnants of folklore and potential existence of magic; his stories read like the ancient tales of heroes, of war, villains, gods and mortal creatures. They truly are poetic epics in which one can lose oneself and at the same time develop a deeper understanding for the world they exist in. In chronological order of events in Arda, the tales begin at the opening of the Silmarillion, life was called into being with what he describes as a song. The gods, or Valar, create Arda, and life upon it, only for it to be destroyed in war by their counter-part, Melkor. As centuries pass by and a new world born of their love and chaos, a seemingly endless battle for the dominion and peace of Arda ensues. During the Second Age, a historical chapter in the timeline of Arda, we see the events of The Children of Hurin; a darker tale than The Hobbit, but much shorter and less pivotal than The Lord of the Rings. Thousands of years later we are introduced to the events of the children's tale, The Hobbit; a somewhat whimsical story of a reclusive and quaint creature finding their heroism in the realms of adventure, with the aid of the Maiar, Gandalf. There has been heavy speculation as to the role of this novel in regards to The Lord of the Rings; whether it's a relatively light-hearted interval between the darker days of war and destruction, or a prelude to the impending doom and final chapter of the Middle Earth saga. Lastly we come to the trilogy in question; The Lord of the Rings, taking place a mere 60 years after the events of 'The Hobbit'.

The first chapter

The book begins with the same merry and up-beat tone as The Hobbit, set in a region of The Shire known as Hobbiton. It is alluded that the protagonist of this tale, Frodo Baggins, nephew of Bilbo Baggins, takes on the role of narrator throughout this novel. Though the narrative is for the most part unclear; during the first chapter we see Bilbo documenting his adventures, and in the last, Frodo takes on this role, compiling the two sagas together with the title of The Lord of the Rings. This is where speculation sprouts as to its reflection upon the Second World War and the events up to and after it. As Tolkien uses the narrators, Bilbo and Frodo, as metaphors for his role as the author. Both characters are known as ring bearers, as being some of the few names in middle earth to have ever carried the One Ring, both are cast under the archetype of underdog; nervously stepping out into the wide world on their first adventures, and becoming key contributors to the fate of their world. In relation to my story; I will be using these classic roles in reverse. Immortal, all powerful beings that descend unto earth, losing their abilities as Gods and becoming humbled and hardened in the process. One could argue, however, that their role is more relative to the Maiar; demi-gods serving the Valar that take their place in Middle Earth, guiding its fate. Unlike the Maiar, however, my characters do not retain a seat of power or a heavy influence in the shaping of the world, instead it is more that they step out on a journey to be shaped.

Imagery

As I mentioned in my proposal piece; another prominent component of Tolkien's work, specifically Lord of the Rings, is his use of language, imagery, symbolism and descriptive tools. Very few authors paint a picture in the way that he does, and unlike the Silmarillion and The Children of Hurin, in which the flow of language is sacrificed for the sake of storytelling, and deviating from The Hobbit which holds a much lighter and more whimsical narrative, in order to appeal to a younger audience, this novel eclipses whimsical fantasy and beautiful scenes with gritty undertones of malice, corruption and war. His timeline follows a pattern of light into dark, into light; much like my use of the lifecycle concept, from the earth we are born and to the earth we return, The Lord of the Rings follows a similar suit. Starting off in the lush countryside of Hobbiton, from the cosy hearth of Bag-End to the sun-kissed woodlands surrounding it, the tale slowly descends into gruesome and devastating battles, futile treks through wastelands and bogs, treacherous explorations of an Orc infested mine and many more. The narrative shifts as the adventure ensues, with brief respites in the picturesque landscapes and heartwarming relationships. Instilling the reminder that beauty and love still exist in the most desperate of times, and dark will always, eventually, turn to light. These aspects correlate directly to moments I have written in my dissertation; from the swift and painful death of a character, to the comfort their kin find in companionship, and from the frustration of survival to the appreciation of nature's ethereal beauty.

Influences

Tolkien has cited influence of his work as being heavily steeped in archaic folklore, specifically Scandinavian, but also by the industrial revolution. Much like Thomas Hardy and D. H. Lawrence, his ideas and themes reflect a sympathy and respect for nature, and in extension, a distaste for the industrialist society that spread across England during the 19^th and 20^th centuries. There seems to be a prominently black and white perspective in regards to the industrial and natural landscapes, and while there is no definitive black and white between good and evil, Tolkien seems to quantify evil by its aversion to and destruction of nature. In The Two Towers, the second part of The Lord of the Rings, Sauron's second-in-command, Saruman, orders his legions of Orcs to tear down the forest surrounding Isengard, his domain. He then proceeds to transform the area into a subterranean factory or workshop of sorts, in which he produces armour, weapons and Uruk-hai, an army of super-soldiers, larger, more intelligent and more blood-thirsty than Orcs, with a greater allegiance to their creator: Saruman. Subsequently they lay waist to everything green and full of life on Sauron's path to dominion. In opposition to this, Hobbits, Elves, Ents and some of Mankind completely assimilate themselves into nature, and, in their own way, worship it. Hobbits live off the land, tilling it, harvesting from it, and giving back to it, Elves spend their lives among the trees, pledging devotion to the Valar, the sun, the moon, the stars, the earth, and the sea. Ents, known as 'Tree-Herders' are tree people, made of bark, leaves and wood, they protect and nurture the forests around them, and lastly mankind, because this race is the most susceptible to change, evolution and corruption, as a rule they have no general allegiance. However many clans or kingdoms of mankind live off the land much like the Hobbits do; the Kingdom of Rohan relies on the fertile fields around them, protection of harsh weather from the mountains, and a clean water source from the surrounding rivers, but their most prominent connection to nature are the wild and tamed horses that their kingdom revolves itself around. The destruction of life in Middle Earth is a reflection, subconscious or not, of Tolkien's disdain toward the industrial revolution. The preservation of nature, in this trilogy, is the aspect of him that considers it of the utmost importance in our world. This conflict between industrialism and the natural world can be seen in my short story. The extinction of humanity comes about in present day, 2015, therefor all of the cities, towns, technology, factories and vehicles will still exist, only they will mostly have no practical function. A year after, the world is left bereft of mankind, and the earth has begun to take back its land, plants growing into skyscrapers, animals creating homes in cars or warehouses, etc.

Conclusion

The balance between light and dark, the use of symbolism and the cataclysm of nature versus industrialisation are all relevant aspects that I shall be working with to realise my story. The Lord of the Rings is perhaps one of the greatest fantasy novels to have ever existed, however the world has responded with a love-hate relationship to it. Critics have cited it as being overtly juvenile, while others have commended its themes and language. It is no surprise considering its overall framework; a heavily fantasy based novel to which only a percentage of our population will relate to. It is a novel that not only can one enjoy, but creates a platform for creative and introspective thought. I would compare it to Heart of Darkness in its use of imagery, hybrid of readerly and writerly narrative and its ability to tell a story, a series of events and simultaneously preach an ideal. Perhaps it is the optimistic tone of the book that doesn't suit itself a universally recognised literary masterpiece. While its initial literary reception was somewhat lack-lustre, or divided, it has become one of the most loved, perhaps not in a critical light, books to have been written. It is the love that this book gifts its readers with, and teaches, that I draw my inspiration from. While my work may come across as somewhat jaded, and the pandemonium of existentialist aspects combined with death and strife paint a far more gritty picture, much like the representation of Melkor and Sauron, the corruption and death of Saruman and the poison spread by this great evil, there is a silver lining. A positive undertone. As Tolkien proves in his work, especially in Lord of the Rings, even in the face of the darkest evil, even in the darkest of times, good things can happen. This is an aspect I wanted to bring forth during the death scene of a key character, and the aftermath. While they may have met a bitter end; there was a sense of comfort, the bereavement of their kin brought their brothers and sisters together, and gave them the warmth and love they needed to survive the winter and carry on. It is this pivotal and very tricky balance between loss and hope, misery and comfort, it is this eternal yin and yang that I intend to portray, and that is prevalent throughout the entirety of Lord of the Rings.

References

Chance, Jane. 'National Geographic Lord Of The Rings -- Historical Influences'.Nationalgeographic.com. N.p., 2001. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

Hargrove, Gene. 'Music In Middle-Earth'. Cas.unt.edu. N.p., 1995. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

Martinez, Michael et al. 'Blog - The Tolkien Society'. Tolkiensociety.org. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

McPartland, Thomas. THE LORD OF THE RINGS: MYTHOPOESIS, HEROISM, AND PROVIDENCE. 1st ed. Seattle: Kentucky State University, 2011. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

Mythopoeic Society,. 'Home - Mythopoeic Society'. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

Roth, Damien. 'Lord Of The Rings Industrial'. Csun.edu. N.p., 2005. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

Shea, Mark. 'Mark P. Shea: The Lord Of The Rings: A Source-Criticism Analysis'. Mark-shea.com. N.p., 2003. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

Dissertation proposal

Dissertation proposal abstract:

Short story/creative piece analysis

Jennifer Richards

Introduction

Throughout history there have been three prominent themes among humanity; universal topics that plague our minds almost constantly. The first being the potential existence of a divine power, and what our role is relative to it. The second being, how our human lives are simultaneously incomprehensible and crushingly simplistic. Lastly, the endless and militant search for a scapegoat of our transgressions against the world and each other. My dissertation is a short story that explores these ideas in a poetic narrative; outlining the flawed beauty of our species as well as an existential question of celestial power, but most importantly, what it means to be human. Combining the use of romanticised imagery, under the influence of writers such as Emily Bronte, J. R. R. Tolkien and George Elliot. As Tolkien once said: “I wanted to create a poetic legend that I felt England lacked.” I intend to draw upon the framework of ancient mythology and modern philosophy to create my own poetic legend, humanity's origin story and a tale of our demise. Looking to the work of Soren Kierkegaard and his influence on authors such as Samuel Beckett, my narrative shall retain a realist approach with an absurdist feel to it, exploring and experimenting with the mysteries of our universe and the tragic beauty of humanity. Balancing tones of whimsy and macabre to tell the tale of mortal gods. There is no existence more flawed and breathtaking than the apparent immortality of the human race.

Use of imagery

Being a writer that is heavily drawn to imagery, it is my firm belief that storytelling can exist beyond subtext, one could go as far as to say that it is our duty to paint a picture with the use of language. For this reason I am studying the work of authors Tolkien, Emily Bronte and George Elliot; three mavericks in the realms of poetic narratives and fantastical imagery. Famously, Tolkien plays with folklore based sagas and mythology to convey the monstrous violence of humanity side by side with our courageous heroism. His use of straightforward language and poetic symbolism that worked to project his fantasy landscapes and epic adventures into our minds follows suit of the sagas that he studied during his years lecturing at Oxford. The methods he uses to describe various events or places stay true to the archaic origins of storytelling; great influences for him included the Poetic Edda and Beowulf, the latter of which he analysed vociferously, few know how to capture a scene in the way that Tolkien did. However it is not just his power to invent the most beautiful of landscapes that I will be citing as influence for my dissertation; during his times serving in the trenches of the Second World War, he used his extensive knowledge on European and Scandinavian folklore to piece together his own world. The Elven languages of Sindarin and Quenya were created there, in the darkest and most desperate of times any human has been known to endure. It is this unfaltering spark that he held on to, contrasted with the bleak lifestyle of an early 20^th century soldier, where death was waiting in every breath, that I will be working to continue in my own work. The fleeting and fragile aspects of life, as referenced by Joseph Conrad, who I will be discussing later, the effervescence that can shine its brightest in tandem with a grim mortality, this is a key element of imagery that will make itself known throughout my short story. Looking now at Emily Bronte, her descriptive tools and talent is that which goes beyond painting a picture, it captures the exact moment, as if it's you experiencing it. The heavily romanticised rural aspects of England, bringing about an essence of drama to a country largely considered as dull, her ability to create a wicked beauty out of everything is a skill that I intend to incorporate into my piece. As humans, every lifelong experience is sensory; it is my goal to bring forward that sensory experience so that the reader need not try to imagine. They're already there. Without the distractions of modern life, technology, family, work, what else do the characters of my story have to do but experience the moment, indulge in the beauty, find it everywhere, and see themselves patterned in the world around them. Another key aspect of Emily Bronte that I am working with; having the landscape, the aspects of the physical world, reflect the emotions or personas of her characters. It ties into the pagan mythology that I will be playing around with; that mortal mankind and ethereal earth are connected in every sense of the word. Lastly, we have George Elliot, with her revolutionary attitude toward Judaism and its culture, revolutionary for its time anyway. During a century where anti-semitism was at an all time high for England, she studied Jewish culture until she fell in love with it. Her novel Daniel Deronda has been cited as unusually sympathetic towards Judaism and Jewish culture, much like Alexander McCall Smith, it is this outsider's impression and interest in a foreign religion, society, race, etc. that I value for this piece. Especially one that has faced the worst of discrimination and violence against them. Starting as an outsider, she soon became about as assimilated into their world as any non Semite can be, and the aforementioned novel used in some religious practises. However it is more than her mentality toward other cultures that I will be drawing upon; her imagery flowers before one's eyes in such a remarkable way. The subject matter of her work is far less poetic and musical, yet the analysis of a character's surroundings, their thoughts, feelings, again, their sensory experience is highly inspirational to me. There's a certain refined eye for detail, Emily Bronte's language is more akin to the work of John Everett Malais, whereas George Elliot's wording reminds me of the illustrations of Paul Kidby. Both have a vocal and melodic style of imagery, however one is more effervescent, classic yet wild, the other is far more modern, detailed and rich.

Existentialist themes

In regards to subject matter, the existentialist movement holds a huge influence on my work. Looking at playwrights such as Samuel Beckett and William Shakespeare I intend to follow suit of absurdist themes to convey a sense of mystery and at the same time futility in endeavours. Beginning with the annihilation of mankind, and following on to the transformation of the Gods, my framework includes both simple quests that the gods, as mortals, task themselves with, as well as greater searches for a higher meaning in life. The philosopher Soren Kierkegaard has been credited with pioneering the existentialist movement, influencing the aforementioned Samuel Beckett and a whole new realm of theatre and literature. “His arsenal of rhetoric includes irony, satire, parody, humour, polemic and a dialectical method of "indirect communication"” Kierkegaard's work epitomises the balance and at times struggle humans face with the day to day and the bigger picture. From the great philosophical question posed in Shakespeare's Hamlet “To be, or not to be”, this contrast between upmost simplicity and abyssal wonder is exactly the notion that, not only inspired much of his work, but will preface and outline the ideas posed in mine. In the one of the earlier portions of my story, one of the characters meets a swift and untimely demise; turning his powers as a god into a great hindrance in mortal form. Not only does this put forth the idea of what it means to be human and our potential connection to the divine; “for they say man was created in the image of the Gods”, but it forces the reader to recognise the fickle aspects of life, impending death and how our greatest strengths can also be our greatest weaknesses. This highlights the constant internal struggle we all face, in regards to who we are, what our role is and whether or not one exists for us at all. While throughout my tale, characters will have tasks to see to and goals they set, my main idea is to allude to a sense of pointlessness; the reader will never know if a conclusion will be given, whether or not there is an ending. In life as in death, we cannot ever be fully aware of this. In Samuel Beckett's screenplay, 'Waiting for Godot', the protagonists spend their time in a type of purgatory, suspended from time, location and progress. It is this concept of crushing futility and aimlessness that has inspired me the most. However unlike this play, structure was needed, a regiment, a small sense of progress, in the most menial of forms. The juxtaposition between the two concepts is what creates the balance that I desire. Much like Tolkien, it was my goal to create my own world, yet unlike Middle Earth the world I wanted to create did not serve as a location, a metaphor or a setting. It is my intention to use it as a concept, a protean atmosphere that moves and breathes as we do. Looking now at another great influence: Joseph Conrad's 'Heart of Darkness', as I mentioned before a concept I wanted to convey was the futility and fragility of life and humanity, as is expressed in this novel: “We live in the flicker -- may it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling! But darkness was here yesterday.” - Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness, mankind's existence is barely touched upon as it is rinsed from the world in the blink of an eye; a year following that and plans for a new human race come into action, another year yet and some have already perished, some are lost, some are born anew. In every wake of new beginnings and endings in my dissertation, there is the constant thundering doom tracking behind. Much like the dying breath of a star, or the first buds of spring, there is a constant cycle that only Humans ignore. Looking more now at the subject matter of Conrad's novel; his illumination of mankind's transgressions and violence against one another is a pressing theme I wish to continue. For none is more savage and merciless than man, and even the gods are not exempt.

Conclusion

And so to conclude; after having discussed the various aspects of my dissertation, from structure and language to subject matter and themes, I shall leave you with the premise in its entirety. As previously mentioned, my story begins with the destruction of mankind. Seen as a festering plague upon the earth, the Gods bring forth an insurgence of destruction in the hopes of peace. They are quick to realise however the discord that this stirs up in their pantheons; humanity was a sort of lightning rod for their flaws, with it gone, war was impending. After devising a plan to give them a new perspective, in the hopes of dissipating chaos, all but two of the Gods descend unto earth to live a century as mortals. Their new beginning is captured with a particular scene: the Japanese sun goddess Ameterasu finds herself in southern Hokkaido, spring, for the first time she feels the warmth of the sun on her skin, the dewy blades of grass between her toes, the still bitter winds of winter. I chose this scene to write particularly because it captures the moment where, as mortals, two of the Gods experience beauty first hand and are overcome with a sense of anagnorisis; they were wrong. I briefly touch upon Yemaya's (aka Yemoja) first few months in Nigeria, how, because of her limited capabilities as a mortal learning the land, she garners frustration at her lack of synchronisation with the waters, especially under the blistering African heat that she is so unaccustomed to. This portion of my story depicts segments of the first year, beginning in spring with Ameterasu, rising into Summer with Yemaya, descending through autumn, where we encounter Athena and Artemis in Athens, and finally cascading into the pitch of winter following the stories of the Norse pantheon; Loki, Thor, Odin, Hel, Freja and Frigg, fighting to survive the merciless Norwegian winters in Ostmarka. As previously mentioned, the incidents and events of the story will remain relatively uneventful and mundane; this is a tale of self discovery, existential mystery and interpersonal relationships. The focus will weigh more on philosophical themes and social interactions. As the story progresses, the characters will build lives for themselves, set out on quests, and possibly perish or reproduce. Or both. For example: Athena's self appointed task is to bring back electricity to the world; she felt that the lights twinkling away on Earth were stars, to her, the ones now above seem too cold and distant, and thus she journeys to Artemis to gain knowledge and devise a scheme. Hel intends on unlocking the secrets of ancient Norse magic, and Chimata-no-Kami sets off on a trek around Hokkaido to map out the various walkways and locations. To summarise; my dissertation will provide an alternative origin story for mankind, as well as an end. Embodying the forever protean cycle of the universe.

References

123helpme.com,. 'Symphonic Imagery In Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights :: Wuthering Heights Essays'. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

Beckett, Samuel. Waiting For Godot. New York: Grove Press, 1954. Print.

Bell, Michelle. 'Existentialism In Samuel Beckett's "Waiting For Godot"'. prezi.com. N.p., 2015. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

Brontë, Emily, Ian Jack, and Hilda Marsden. Wuthering Heights. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1976. Print.

Chance, Jane. 'National Geographic Lord Of The Rings -- Historical Influences'.Nationalgeographic.com. N.p., 2001. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

Conrad, Joseph, and Robert Kimbrough. Heart Of Darkness. New York: Norton, 1988. Print.

Eliot, George. Daniel Deronda. London: Penguin, 2012. Print.

Heart Of Darkness Themes And Symbols. 1st ed. n/a: n/a. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

McDonald, William. 'Kierkegaard, Søren | Internet Encyclopedia Of Philosophy'. Iep.utm.edu. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

McDonald, William. 'SøRen Kierkegaard'. Plato.stanford.edu. N.p., 1996. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

Oberst, Karen. 'The Nature Of Things By K. L. Oberst'. Quotelady.com. N.p., 1999. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

Philosophyparadise.com,. 'Existentialism In Waiting For Godot - Philosophy Paradise'. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

Shakespeare, William, Burton Raffel, and Harold Bloom. Hamlet. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003. Print.

Storm, D. 'Kierkegaard, D. Anthony Storm's Commentary On'. Sorenkierkegaard.org. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

Tolkien, J. R. R, and Douglas A Anderson. The Fellowship Of The Ring. Print.

Tolkien, J. R. R. The Return Of The King. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1965. Print.

Tolkien, J. R. R. The Two Towers. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1965. Print.

Uhi.ac.uk,. 'Rings, Dwarves, Elves And Dragons: J. R. R. Tolkien’S Old Norse Influences — University Of The Highlands And Islands'. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

Wilhite, Breanne. 'Emily Bronte's Use Of Imagery'. prezi.com. N.p., 2014. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

Wood, Rosanna. 'Daniel Deronda: A Study In Characterisation And Psychology - Arts And Humanities'. Arts.brighton.ac.uk. N.p., 2011. Web. 6 Nov. 2015.

Much ado about nothing

Lecture contemplations:

I remember one of the lectures on our timetables being directed toward the philosophy and introspective theories behind literature and language. I personally was very interested and excited about attending these lectures, but within 5 minutes it would always fall apart, by the end of the year no more than 4 of us even attended these. I always found my classmate's opinions on this fairly disrespectful; they justified their lack of attendance on the pointlessness of attending when they could be spending that time working on deadlines and essays, fair point to that. It was the end of the year and our work load had piled up, deadlines were drawing close and we all had to rush to get our assignments in and get the grades we desired, however they failed to see that the reason the lectures were so pointless was not entirely to the fault of the lecturer, but the fault of the students for allowing themselves to be caught up in almost always pointless debates with each other, indeed these debates were sparked by our lecturer and he did little to attempt to put his teaching schedule back on track, but at a university level it's the duty of the student as well as the teacher to learn. When the class attendance had been minimised to 4 of us we did actually learn stuff, yes we debated but it was easier to resume topic and take notes when the volume of opinions and discord had been reduced.

Food for though: is it easier to learn via debate when arrogance is taken out of the equation? Or is it the sheer mass of people involved that causes the underlying point to be drowned out? Perhaps the reason our world is thrown into chaos is due to the amount of opinions that the bearers of which retain with such self righteousness. If everyone put forth their opinion regarding it as just that, and actually attempted to learn instead of just making points, more of the humanity's problems and strife's would cease to exist, or be invented in the first place. My perception was that it wasn't due to the small quantity of students attending the lecture, but the fact that the students who chose to remain were there to learn and to reflect, instead of boasting and trying to make themselves heard, that the lecture succeeded in its prospects.

It's easier said than done, well for some anyway. I find it hard to remind myself from time to time that just because I disagree with something, no matter how many disagree with it alongside me, doesn't automatically mean that I'm right. If you're going to debate correctly and yield productive results retaining a self righteous stance and a closed mind will always end in failure. Actually listen and consider the other person's points, and then consider your own response. Even if you cannot see their point of view or reasoning put yourself in their shoes, there's always a reason for the point they're making and trying to understand that reason as well as their point will help you both reach a positive conclusion.

None of the above is truth or fact, it is not a definite answer to issues or arguments, it is merely my perspective on how to appropriately exchange opinions without ensuing chaos, and how to learn from one another. It is all opinion but with that opinion I feel maybe we can better ourselves from it.

Share your opinions, make them heard, but remember they're not the only opinions and they're not automatically correct.

Poetry

  Dragon   

Great beast,

Serpent of the west.

With a hide as thick as steel,

Blinding white, and icy,

Glistening.

Make your bed in caverns and coves,

A mossy tomb

Hidden in ruins.

Line it with gems, trinkets and gold,

Greedy.

Magnificent creature!

Graceful demon.

You parry with the wind

And soar the skies.

Child born in flame,

Curiously came to be,

Freest of us all,

Solitary in company.

Feared and revered,

You turn kingdoms to ash

And bone.

Destruction is your nature,

Friendly to fire.

  Mortality  

From excess to restriction,

We give ourselves too much or too little.

With all our vices, rituals, habits and addictions,

The day we begin a consistency,

We are designing our own graves

Every choice we make,

Every path we wander down,

Another sacrifice.

As we edge closer to mortality,

Only building our conclusion.

Over-clocking, overworking

Over eating, over sleeping,

Not enough toil, too much fun,

Adrenaline junkie, over exposure to the sun.

Each leading to fatality.

Our lives are nothing more

Than a prolonged obituary,

Trying so hard to leave a memory.

It’s always just a means to an end,

Everybody chooses to die.

  Middle Earth  

A world torn by war and crisis,

Plains stained bloody and cold.

Barren depths of old crumbled keeps,

Immortalised in bardic song,

Thought to be impenetrable.

Forests once green, garden of Yavanna.

Now black in the chokehold of sickness,

A snaring trap to unwary travelers.

Darkness has spread across the lands, never lifting

All that was green is lost.

Demons buried beneath strongholds of Durin,

Embodiments of flame.

Engulfing foes with axes, whips

And gaping maws,

Lieutenant to Morgoth.

Snow glowing white over jagged peaks,

Callous mountains, echoing battles of giants

And the cries of a sorcerer,

Bitter as the icy winds, reverberating,

And beneath the mountain, a frostbitten tomb.

In the grasslands, warriors ride;

Equestrian heroes, defenders of the free.

To the east, the simple folk dwell,

Blind to the corrupt, comfortably ignorant

And blissful they dwell, in holes under hill.

Ivory towers, elegantly fortified,

They lay hidden in the trees.

A king plagued with pride,

A witch of psychic prowess,

Beautifully immortal and ever the wise.

A world war-torn, bloody and cold,

Darkness has its hold.

But beauty, comfort and freedom

Still remain to fight

And defend all that is good.

  Quintessence  

Beauty un-parried,

Encapsulating without drawing a breath.

Just one glimpse and you know,

Some see it as life, some call it death.

Subject to change,

And individual perception.

An encryption of our minds,

An embodiment of recollection.

From minimal to extravagant,

The epitome of the epitome,

A bigger picture of everything,

Emanating euphoria and misery.

Divine, or grounded, a testament to time,

Unrivalled is quintessence, eternal, sublime.

  Berlin  

Red brick city, towering.

I remember walking 6 ft tall,

I could see the chimneys above the charcoal walls,

Stained with the sordid history,

Though it never felt threatening to me.

Everything was always grey,

Still struggling to resuscitate

The colour that was drained away,

With the blood of the fallen.

I repeat the same path we walked down,

The window frames of shops, black lacquer,

Blanketed in bright white snow,

An icy cusp to cleanse the city’s sins.

My third year alive, holding your hand.

Crunching the autumn skin underfoot,

Enjoying the sound, and the power I felt,

This city has seen enough death.

A childhood playground,

Cheerful and cherished memories

In a capital responsible for genocide,

It all seemed so innocent to me.

  What is love?  

What is love? They say,

I see it in our haunted eyes,

It is my willingness to take your hand

And stand strong by your quivering side

As we face your abyss and mine.

What is love?

I have wondered before.

It is the strength we embody

When the blood runs cold and voices rise

To bury our pride and become us, not I.

The warm place between your arms,

Feeling the steady breath and beat,

It is that song that sings me to sleep,

This safe place.

What is love, it is right here with me.

The quintessence to our lives

The antagonist of many,

What is love but the beginning and end?

It is something we can pretend

To know,

But never truly comprehend, and so

What is love

But what you give and are given,

Not a prize but a mutual exchange.

Accepting our demons, our devils and every sin,

Loving all our parts outside and in.

narrative design

“I'm made of diamonds but I never got my chance to shine.” -

A Butt Stallion's story.

Narrative design premise for Borderlands 2

by Jennifer Richards.

In this piece I will be writing excerpt for a potential spin-off narrative of the Borderlands series. A small spin-off that would centre around the less prominent characters in Borderlands 2, such as Moxie, Butt Stallion, Crazy Earl, Bloodwing, Hammerlock and many more. So far the video games have put you in the position of the protagonists and told their story, the protagonists being the vault hunters, heroic characters there to slay bullymongs and bandits, hunt for treasure and sometimes, save the day. One of the key goals in the game was building up a substantial collection of firearms and weapons for your character, so in this spin-off the goal will focus more on the exploration of Pandora, shifting the collecting dynamic to vehicles and transport. Considering the deviation from the traditional and loved aspects of Borderlands, this game would be better suited as a pack of DLC or an Expansion pack.

We open with the immediate aftermath of Borderlands 2: Handsome Jack has been defeated, his henchmen are dead or scattered, most have fled into the wilds or fled Pandora all together, we are introduced to a nameless lieutenant of his, badly injured from the fight and making his way back to a safe place, possibly to start a new life.

Part one:

The poison sun shone its beams down over the crackling wasteland, “I swear” he began “it feels like just yesterday I was first discovering the bitter sweet beauty that Pandora had endowed” he shot a cursive glare at the merciless heat radiating down upon him. His feet blistered and battered, how he was still trudging on is a mystery. Wearily he wiped his brow, bejewelled with beads of sweat and blood, a ruby crown. “Now, now I'm finding it more and more impossible to find one reason that would make all of this..” he gestured at the smoking, twisted wreckage around him “..worth it. That would make living, here, on this burning, desolate spit of land, worth it.” He knew his only company right now was regret and shame boiling up inside of him, and the high hopes of finding an establishment specifically designed to make customers forget about feelings of shame and regret somewhere along the way. If he would just, keep, going.

Not 10 minutes later his weary feet dragged him out to the rail line, the earth all around him began to fervently shake, trembling from the colossal vibrations of the freight line. He looked behind him and sure enough a cargo bullet was hurtling his way. Stepping aside at first to attempt to purvey the sleek silver crashing past him, he was always reminded of Sleipnir whenever he saw this mechanical masterpiece make its way across the desert. Just as quickly as the engine had arrived, it was gone, leaving little but upturned pebbles and a cloud of dust, no, not even the weary stranger was left standing in the rubble, the last remnant of Handsome Jack's reign of terror had vanished, it was finally all over.

Part two:

Where did it all go wrong? I came to this planet 15 years ago, just a boy, starry eyed, soon to be a man, lusting for adventure. Pandora was an uncharted gold mine at that point. The bounty she promised drove wanderers mad with desire, a treacherous and unforgiving wasteland, offering gold and treasure beyond belief to those skilled and daring enough to excavate the caverns and crevices that run like veins beneath her skin.

I first came here with my pa, a bumpkin from a broken home, no prospects and no money. he carried me on his back most of my life, like all before him Pandora had laid out her carpet of enticement, whispers of gemstones, precious metals and catacombs ripe for exploration. it wasn't long before we'd made a modest home for ourselves, it was lookin' to be the life I'd always dreamed of, treasure, adventure, a whirlwind of wanderlust, just me and my daddy.

I don't need to bore you with the details for you to know it certainly didn't work out like that, when does it ever? Long story short I ain't seen my pappy in 6 years, didn't even see him go.

This planet was not built for camaraderie or companionship, it was built by the gods alright but it's no Valhalla.

As I grew I continued my pappy's work, reaping the bounty of the lands, and paying almost in equal. Settlements had begun to pop up, I'd sell what I found to wandering travellers, exotic mercantile the likes of which I had never had the fortune of gazing upon, the plethora of produce they had collected, the wares on display came in a menagerie of colours, bright enough to rival the plumage of Pandora! I loved spending my days in the dark crevices and caves fetching the finery that kept these men in business, but being given the opportunity to spy upon their silver and gold, knick knacks, oddities and unique finds, this remained the highlight, this was what kept me working my fingers to the bone. well, that and the handsome coin I was able to salvage from it.

Every night, you could spy more and more camp-fires on the horizon, a feeble string of fairy lights encrusting the blackened cliff-side, blinking pathetically underneath the stars. “This is just the beginning..” an elderly native would warn me, they say that, hundreds of years ago a refugee space shuttle touched down on Pandora, immigrating from a planet that had become.. inhospitable.. after what seemed like endless months of scouring the galaxy the refugees had found Pandora, or perhaps Pandora found them. A small colony was established there, however, due to the harsh nature of the planet, living conditions were poor and many ended up meeting with their early demise. The population dwindled until eventually so few were left that their existence became a myth among travellers and plunderers of Pandora. It is said that some miraculously thrived, in the hill-sides, underground, living over the sea. Driven into a nomadic existence, they floated about the painted deserts and graced the effervescent glaciers, never leaving so much as a footprint behind them, becoming little more than extensions of the land. You hear a lot of sporadic and strange rumours circulating these parts, humans will invent any ridiculous story to scare scavengers away from their bounty, but there are some tales that have their validity, some that are so intricately structured and with such eeriness that you just, know. “This is just the beginning, more will come and when they do, they'll be bringin' with them an evil that'll blast a hole right through 'er. Our beautiful Pandora will open up a shit-storm, and with it we'll be seein' some darker days, darker 'n you 'n' I have ever dreamt o' seein'.”

Part three:

The crimson sky seemed to spin slowly above, a cascading shower of stars trickled across the clouds overhead. The dark wisps of galaxy, streaks of black, green and gold painted the atmosphere, it all looked like it had been designed by a mad man, a complete medley of cosmic dissonance, harmonious and yet chaotic simultaneously. It sort of felt as though the planet had gone to sleep, all the lights blown out and enduring a sloe black world, silhouetted against the bright, kaleidoscopic sky. Exhausted, he stretched out his toes across an old cargo container, reclining back into the warmth of the fire and taking a long, deep drag on his pipe, the embers illuminating his face, if only for a second. His companions setting up camp around him, well, nearly all of his companions, the youngest of the group was extremely busy napping in the chair next to him. Nobody liked the kid, not yet anyway, he'd proven himself to be nothing but lazy and moronic, why did they think it'd be a good idea to take on a kid? In this climate? Scavengers were at their peak, with Handsome Jack gone all of the treasure was ripe for the taking, and everyone on Pandora knew it. He was too young, he had grown up in a metropolis, he'd yet to learn the harsh and unforgiving way or life that comes with living out here, he was too young and too lazy and the vault hunters didn't have the time to wait for him to mature, the only problem was they didn't have a choice, if they wanted that bounty they needed an extra crew member and if there were any better candidates no doubt that kid would still be back at home, kicking cans about the dirt. Behind the man two of the younger yet, somehow, more experienced hunters took on the duty of counting their earnings that day, by the licks of fire-light the coins sparkled and seemed to dance beneath her fingers. She had the nonchalant air of somebody that had seen it all and probably too much of it, her tired eyes, all drained of their youthful colour and glimmer, darted back and forth across the table, silently counting, whilst her partner, short tempered and agitated after a quarrel between the two, sat begrudgingly twiddling his weapon between his short, grubby fingers, leaving her to the finances and muttering bitterly under his breath. Just then, the clouds above them parted and a small portion of the valley was cast under the moon's illumination. The ex-soldier with the pipe felt the corners of his rugged maw stretch into a smile, the refreshing beauty before them was enough to melt any heart, there was a lot to be cynical about on Pandora, but her aesthetic charm seemed to be what kept everyone going. He stopped for a moment, pipe hanging from his lip, statuesque the smoke billowed gently out of his mouth, like a haggard, man shaped kettle. Finally he blinked, sitting up from his recline, a bright, ivory light, no bigger than a pin prick piercing through the twilight down in the valley. They were all accustomed to seeing strange and peculiar things on Pandora, and random lights certainly wasn't one of them, settlers and travellers came across their path more frequently than they'd care for, but this light, this light was oddly, different. He composed himself, coughing slightly then removing the pipe to tap the ashes into the fire, leaning forward in his chair, he scoured the land for any other random lights, but he could only see that one shimmer. Amused and entranced he watched it flicker, stationary, then, with a biting breeze that seemed to cut right through him, he shuddered and heard, echoes of screaming, no, not screaming. A whinny. A lonesome equestrian cry. It was coming from the tiny light! He got up and ran to the edge of the cliff, the others had taken notice by now. The light began to change, evolve, move, it grew larger and brighter, and then, he saw it. The ghostly eye and silken mane of a diamond encrusted horse. “...Is that?” “I couldn't possibly..” “no way is it..” “Butt Stallion!” In a shriek and a gust of icy wind Butt Stallion was off, like a shooting star tearing across the valley, the vault hunters looked on in dumbfounded awe.

Fin.

These texts are collectives from a potential narrative for a spin-off of the video game Borderlands. A science fiction First person shooter with role play elements set on an alien planet with comedic themes. The premise of this spin-off would be giving a spot-light and a voice to the characters many felt were glossed over in Borderlands 2, with some comedic effect. Telling the tale of the planet Pandora during Handsome Jack's (the antagonist in Borderlands 2) totalitarian reign of terror. The before and the after, how he came to Pandora, what happened after he was destroyed and what happened to the characters tied to him.