Carla's Writing Portfolio

2006-12-29T01:59:00.000+08:00

Introduction

10 November 2006

Hello readers, welcome to my writing portfolio and best wishes from Carla! Carla is my English name, in fact it is derived from my French name: Clarisse. Since people protested that Clarisse simply is too ugly in English. I chose the name Carla, which sounds cute and creative. My Chinese name is Sheng Huan, meaning ebullient joy. I come from Shanghai. This is my second year at Fudan University, and I study International Relations.

I still very well remember my first writing experience. That was in the third grade of primary school, the teacher asked us to tell a story of 300 words based on a picture, on which we saw a little girl heroically rescuing her neighbors’ clothes as the rain started to pour. I picked up some sentences I read elsewhere, wrote them down in an order that I deemed pleasant, and then I proudly named my little heroin with a peculiar word I just learned to write, and I handed in my very first piece of writing. Unexpectedly the teacher was not merely amazed at how uniquely my character was named. She read the story enthusiastically in front of the class, declaring that what a fantastic little assembly of words this page was. That was a moment of surprising bliss: I was called a gifted little writer. And, from that instant on, I have got the impression that I have always been called that. As I grow up, the meaning of writing for me has greatly changed, and is still changing, but there has never been an instant where it stopped to be important. Writing is always a cherished part of my life.

Writing in this class has been incredibly fulfilling. The course introduced me to a lot of new and interesting concepts. The first one was that of free writing. I never did any free writing before, and never knew what it could be. It was not until I actually set out for a real free writing did I realize how genius a process this is. Free writing is like setting your whole mind in motion. My free writing nearly always begins with some plain sentences, but they would unmistakably be followed by some truly wonderful ideas, things that I would probably never be able to create, had I merely sat there and thinking. The second concept that I come to embrace with great passion was that of reading log. In fact, I did a lot of reading log in the past, but none was written. Through the class, I found out how differently it feels to write your reflections down instead of storing them in your head. And it has become a real pleasure for me to get on Nicenet now and then and exchange my feelings with my classmates and Ron. Well, I think that's pretty much for the first time! I will tell you more about me and my writing by and by and I would be honored if you can come visit this blog often!

2006-12-29T01:52:00.000+08:00

Cover Letter

December 27, 2006

Dear Portfolio Reader:

I am immensely delighted that you are visiting this portfolio. What you are reading here are not merely random pieces of writing that I did in the past several months, but a collection of joyful experiments. These experiments, whether they take form of reading logs or essays, have led me to explore and appreciate the essence of writing during the four months of class. By inviting you to read through these lines, I want to share with you not only my ideas and reflections, but also my excitement in this whole process of discovering, and, most importantly, enjoying writing.

There are two things I wish you could find in this portfolio. The first is uniqueness. Just as pianists use 88 keys to speak the entire range of human emotions, and dancers offer their spectators a different world using the limited moves of human body. Writers are the incredible performers who, with the common, dull and sometimes tedious words, can sing the most moving verses of our heart. I have come to understand that, although the ability of writing stems from reading, it is in leaving behind all that we love to read, that we acquire a voice of our own. The uniqueness of expression is what every real writer seeks. I want to be a real writer, and I wish that, in reading this portfolio, you could find what sets me apart from all those who use the same common, dull and tedious words.

The second thing is evolution. Evolution is, of course, the process through which I fine-tuned my essay. It also is, the process through which I turned my utter bewilderment after reading a story into an organized reading log. But the most vital evolution I experienced in this class concerns the very form of my writing. Ron made me see that a “grandiose” vocabulary does not necessarily make your voice powerful, just as yelling does not make you any more eloquent. Writing is so much more than knitting flowery adjectives. It is the art with which you build but not the bricks that make a great architecture. The pyramid is not a pile of diamonds, but sand and stones merged in a breathtakingly beautiful form.

Writing is the passion of my life. There is no greater fulfillment for me than the magic of creating wonders on a keyboard. There is no greater pleasure for me than to imagine readers smile as they come across a refreshing line. The moment inspiration soars through my mind, I receive a double blessing: the one of owning it, and the one that I am going to communicate it. And readers, only one thing equals the bliss of writing this portfolio, it is the knowledge that someone is reading it.

2006-12-29T01:43:00.000+08:00

Essay Draft One

November 5, 2006

A romantic young man. A painful inner struggle. A final resolution. Gunshot. The hero risks his life to save the lives of people he doesn’t know, and he traded the freedom of body for the sublime freedom of soul. “Village” by Estela Portillo Trambley has all the classical elements of a modern romantic epic. While Trambley’s expressive language and well-crafted plot put tears in most readers’ eyes, I cannot help but feel the illusionary and misleading nature Rico claimed he achieved? Did Rico really achieve freedom?

Let’s start with the closing part of the story: Rico’s conversation with his friend Harry, where our hero delivered the most straightforward explanation for his actions.

“I didn’t want people killed, that’s all.”

This actually echoed with the beginning of the story, where we remember seeing a serene Rico, “relieved” was the exact word.

(quotations)

Rico felt relieved because the real war hadn’t yet started, there has not yet been any killing, things he was trained and has come to execute.

From the evidence above, several conclusions can be drawn:
1. Rico is OK with the war as long as there is no killing
2. Rico is relieved/free as long as he is not forced to kill people he does not want to kill.

Rico’s perception of freedom is based on very fragile rationale, and it is utterly unrealistic.

This is even reflected in his actions. Rico was not that determined.

(Evidence from the story)

Rico think he achieved freedom because of and only because of the luck the author arranged.

Further discussion.

End.

2006-12-29T01:20:00.000+08:00

Essay Draft Two

December 9, 2006

A romantic young man. A painful inner struggle. A final resolution. Gunshot. The hero risks his life to save the lives of people he doesn’t know, and he trades the freedom of body for the sublime freedom of soul. “Village” by Estela Portillo Trambley has all the classical elements of a modern romantic epic. While Trambley’s expressive language and well-crafted plot put tears in most readers’ eyes, I cannot help but feel the illusionary and misleading nature of the freedom our hero claims he achieved. Did Rico really achieve freedom?

Hardly. Rico’s “freedom” is based on fragile rationale and unrealistic, more something to end the story movingly and to lift the young soldier as a hero than a substantial notion.

No one can be free when failing his duty. Rico is a soldier. He is responsible to guard his country, to protect his compatriots and to win the war for them. But instead of following orders, Rico refuses to execute them and even attacks his superior in the middle of a mission. By doing this he is jeopardizing the lives of all his friends and fellow soldiers and maybe even the whole situation of war in a larger scale. I believe that, except some few, everybody on earth loves peace. But, how many of us would actually let a soldier who does not fight protect us when the war hits our home? Instead of facing his responsibility, Rico chooses to ignore it: “swallow[s] a guilt that rose from the marrow-with it, all kinds of fear”(179). Trambley’s story is beautiful because it is a story, if the villagers are enemies, and they do assault Rico’s platoon and cause damage. I can’t conclude whether Rico can still swallow his guilt with so much ease and think himself “free”.

No one can be free without reason. Over the course of his heroic deed, Rico let himself guided solely by his instinct, by “something beyond the logic of war and enemy, something deep in his guts.” (177), and entirely abandons his faculty of thinking. His colored imagination makes him see illusionary peacefulness and good in a foreign village he never sets foot in, and turns him completely blind to the reality of war. The logic he develops from his romantic vision does not even convince himself. Rico is vacillating all the way before he finally decides to fire that gun. And as the image of the villagers, “children, old men and women”(179), and the “innocence” about the whole thing”(179) flood his mind, all Rico’s intelligence surrenders. How can orders be anything other than “words on a piece of paper” (178)? How can “Keever … tell him why” while they need to act swiftly? Should he be delivered a philosophical essay on the justice of war? Or a comprehensive report on the distribution of Vietnam forces every time he carries out orders?

Rico did not achieve freedom, if he thinks he did, it is because 1. no people get killed, 2. he is right about the Mai Cao’s innocence, one of the two conditions fails, then this is no longer Rico’s own tragedy. Estela Portillo Trambley arranged Rico’s “freedom”.
The story of a soldier who resents war is powerful material for literature, easy to write and sure to move. However, depicting Rico as a tragic hero can be misleading. Being a hero is not questioning the authority every time you think you are smarter than your superior, and it is not resorting to violence every time you deem yourself absolutely right. In most of cases, “do [your] duty blindly” (179) is better way to a meaningful life than to do what you heart says and end up savoring an illusionary “freedom” behind the bars.

2006-12-29T01:17:00.000+08:00

Essay Draft Three

December 28, 2006

A romantic young man. A painful inner struggle. A final resolution. Gunshot. The hero risks his life to save the lives of people he doesn’t know, and he trades the freedom of body for the sublime freedom of soul. “Village” by Estela Portillo Trambley has all the classical elements of a romantic story. While Trambley’s expressive language and well-crafted plot put tears in most readers’ eyes, some of them, however, cannot help but feel the illusionary and misleading nature of the freedom our hero claims he achieved. Did Rico really achieve freedom?

First, no one can be free when failing his duty. Rico is a soldier. He is responsible to guard his country, to protect his compatriots and to win the war for them. But instead of following orders, Rico refuses to execute them and even attacks his superior in the middle of a mission. By doing this he is jeopardizing the lives of all his friends and fellow soldiers and maybe even the whole situation of war in a larger scale. Except some few, everybody on earth loves peace. But, how many of them would actually let a soldier who does not fight protect them when the war hits their home? Instead of facing his responsibility, Rico chooses to ignore it: “swallow[s] a guilt that rose from the marrow-with it, all kinds of fear”(179). Trambley’s story is beautiful because it is a story, if the villagers are enemies, and they do assault Rico’s platoon and cause damage. Can Rico still swallow his guilt with so much ease and think himself “free”?

And, no one can be free without reason. Over the course of his heroic deed, Rico lets himself guided solely by his instinct, by “something beyond the logic of war and enemy, something deep in his guts.” (177), and entirely abandons his faculty of thinking. His colored imagination makes him see illusionary peacefulness and good in a foreign village he never sets foot in, and turns him completely blind to the reality of war. The logic he develops from his romantic vision does not even convince himself. Rico is vacillating all the way before he finally decides to fire that gun. And as the image of the villagers, “children, old men and women”(179), and the “innocence” about the whole thing”(179) flood his mind, all Rico’s intelligence surrenders. How can orders be anything other than “words on a piece of paper” (178)? How can “Keever … tell him why” while they need to act swiftly? Should he be delivered a philosophical essay on the justice of war? Or a comprehensive report on the distribution of Vietnam forces every time he carries out orders?

So did Rico really achieve freedom?

No.

If Rico thinks he did, it is because 1. no people get killed, 2. he is right about Mai Cao’s innocence. But if one of the two conditions failed, which is more likely to happen in the reality, then this would no longer be Rico’s personal tragedy. Estela Portillo Trambley “arranged” Rico’s “freedom”. This “freedom” is based on fragile rationale and utterly unrealistic, more something to end the story movingly and to lift the young soldier as a hero than a substantial notion.

The story of a soldier who resents war is powerful material for literature, easy to write and sure to move. However, depicting Rico as a tragic hero can be misleading. Being a hero is not questioning the authority every time you think you are smarter than your superior, and it is not resorting to violence every time you deem yourself absolutely right. In most cases, “do [your] duty blindly” (179) is better way to a meaningful life than to do what you heart says and end up savoring an illusionary “freedom” behind the bars.

2006-12-29T01:09:00.000+08:00

Timed Writing

November 30, 2006

Timed writing 2

1. What do you think makes a good teacher?

A good teacher has to be knowledgeable, hardworking and creative; however, a teacher is not a scholar, or an artist. What makes a teacher special is that, instead of pursuing her own achievements, she regards the excellence of her students to be the most meaningful and delighting accomplishment. A teacher must love her subject, but the most important thing is that she must love her students. Without genuine passion and love for others, one cannot be a good teacher.

2. Describe one of your favorite teachers.
I am lucky, for I have had a lot of great teachers in my life. But strangely enough, I decided to dedicate this paragraph to one who only guided me for a short time and one that I have not heard of for almost ten years. Ms. Yin Zaikang taught me theater when I was five or six. Unlike playing a musical instrument, practice does not make you perfect at theater, not even acceptable; forcing a person without talents to act is horrible. And very unfortunately, my performance at Ms.Yin’s class fell exactly into the category of “horrible”. I was shy and dumb and clumsy while all my classmates were gifted little actors who could mentally transform themselves into a vase, a pig or a king with ease. Most of the time, I was standing in the middle of the huge room, flushing terribly, and fixing my eyes on my hands from the beginning till the end for I had no idea where to put them. But Ms.Yin always encouraged me. She was able to see what was admirable in me, my sensitivity, and never stopped praising me and guiding me. When I left her class, I was still a horrible comedian, but I no longer cared about that, what I would always remember was the warmth of her voice and smile. Thanks to her boundless kindness and love, what was doomed to be a frustrating experience of childhood was made a fantastic travel in a wonderland; even though I did not know my way there, the passage was so enjoyable.

2006-12-29T01:00:00.000+08:00

Reading Log

September 16, 2006

I infinitely enjoyed Anton Chekhov’s story. Undoubtedly a remarkable fiction with its expressive language, its imaginative descriptions, its wit and flashes of poetry, what charmed me most here, however, is the story itself. “A trifle from real life” is explored by the shining literary talent of the Russian writer so that it beams with extraordinary beauty and strength. “Aliosha flushed and then grew suddenly pale and his face became distorted with fear”, “Aliosha did not hear her, his eyes were fixed with horror on Belayeff”, “but Aliosha crept into a corner and told Sonia with horror how he had been deceived. He trembled and hiccoughed and cried”. Seldom has a scene that we all grow up with been depicted so harrowingly and movingly. Chekhov’s words are powerful. The author who had till then lavishly poured his lines on the happy and carefree life of the boy, his pure and vivid little world, the sad and loving father, the warm sweetness of the reunion suddenly become a stingy writer, giving only few words to the height of his drama; nevertheless these are so real that the magic of literature here works to the fullest. It is as if the pain and horror of little Aliosha were burning in the readers’ heart, reminding them of that moment they all share, where the light of innocence began fading from life, and the cold and dark face of deceit invaded the eternal spring of a child’s mind.

Too often authors seek to place their stories in unusual circumstances, while Chekhov proves that the source of great literature can be found in every man’s heart. For the pages of our life always read beautiful sorrow and woeful joy, that are waiting to be discovered by a sympathetic soul, the greatest gift from heaven a writer can ever receive.