Friday, October 28, 2011

Question of the Week (10/28/11)

Write your alternate ending to A Tale of Two Cities. You have as much freedom as you wish, just stay true to Dickens. Your alternate ending must be at least 500 words.
Quarter One is now over, what would you like to accomplish in quarter two? Take a moment to evaluate the course overall. What are some things that you would like to see change? What are some things you would like to remain the same? Post your response by Monday at 3 p.m. This week you do NOT have to respond to another classmates' response. Enjoy your weekend.


PaulH said...

First post again!

My alternate ending to Tale of Two Cities would be something like this:
Charles Darnay had just been recaptured and sentenced to death because of his unlawful act that he committed after he was released from prison the first time. The unlawful act that he committed after his release was that he went and killed the Defarges because of how Mr. Defarge had turned down his plea for help. His actions were committed because he believed that Mr. Defage deserved death since he had shown no mercy for him. After Charles Darnay had committed the act of murder, the new rogue aristocrat went on another rampage and divorced his wife, Lucie Manette, because she believed that the murder of the Defarges could not be justified. This left Lucie Manette in an utter state of shock, rejected and alone. When Dr. Manette hears about his daughter’s ordeal he comes to see her and help to snap her out of her dreadful state of shock. His numerous attempts fail and he ends up passing away because he couldn’t believe that his child was so sad and that she couldn’t seem to be snapped out of her state of shock. Because of this, he has a fatal heart attack. While all of this has been happening, Sydney Carton has been getting more and more depressed about his life. He ends up going to see Mrs. Manette and tries to help her snap out of her state of shock. His attempts succeed as he realizes what his life is really all about. His life is not an utter failure nor is it controlled by fate (Will he prove this later on in terms of his actions?).

After all these tragedies had occurred and Cartons mind had been opened, Charles Darnay, who had been imprisoned for a second time was convicted of unlawful murder in broad daylight. He death by guillotine was ordered to occur on the 2nd anniversary of his marriage (now divorce) to Lucie Manette. Five days before his death sentence, Carton had finally managed to snap Mrs. Manette out of her state of shock and he asked her if she still loved Charles Darnay and if she truly wanted him to die or not. She said that she did and that she will never be able to accept the fact that her husband died. Carton went and talked to Mrs. Pross and Mr. Lorry and they devised an outstanding plan to free Charles Darnay from certain death (who would sacrifice their life for peace in Mrs. Manette’s heart?). The day before Darnay’s death sentence was to occur, Mr. Carton had managed to meet with Mr. Cruncher and they managed to break into the prison that was holding Darnay. He was replaced by none other than Mr. Carton who had promised to Lucie Manette that he would sacrifice his life for her if it was the only thing that could make her happy again. On the day of “Darnay’s death sentence” Mr. Carton who had secretly replaced Mr. Darnay, which had not been noticed by the guards because they were not really distinguishable from each other. At noon, Mr. Carton was summoned to the guillotine to die, his last words were, “This is what I have been waiting for; my life is fulfilled.” After Mr. Darnay had heard of the successful deed that Carton had accomplished, he seemed to awaken from his rage and he was so grateful that he asked Lucie why did Carton do this for him and she said, “It was for our lives and my happiness with you.” Just days later Darnay asked for Lucie Manette’s forgiveness and for her hand back in marriage (this occurred on the last day of the French Revolution).

In quarter two I would like to accomplish more skills in terms of writing and memorization. Overall, I like the amount of papers that we did and the books that we read. Some of the things that I would like to change are to separate the book material into one quiz and the vocab into another quiz. Some of the things that I would like to stay the same are the atmosphere of the class, the teacher, and the types of essays. Thanks for a great first quarter, Ms. Piro.

DavidD. said...

Part 1
Charles, after hearing about the beautiful sacrifice Sydney Carton was about to perform, became enraged at the idea that someone like Carton whom he thought was nothing more than a pitiful drunkard was morally surpassing him by sacrificing himself for his love for a woman whom he knew would never love him back. How could such a low, pathetic man who had nothing better to do but drink to his death possibly surpass him in such a dramatic method? The way Lucie seemed to burst into tears on the small thought of the incredibly powerful action Carton was about to perform truly annoyed him. He felt like he should be the one surpassing Carton, not cowering in a safe zone completely isolated from the danger. The idea of such a dramatic difference in morals caused so much rage to boil up in his mind that he tracked down the location of the execution and impulsively stomped his way up the steps to the guillotine without any reasonable thought about what might happen to him or how he might negatively affect the other people whom he cared about by making his “sacrifice”. The strong wave of confusion from the crowd squeaked as the air from their lungs was yanked out at the sight of two people who looked almost completely identical were locking eyes as Carton stared at the man whose life he was trying to save.

DavidD. said...

Part 2 of alternate ending

“What are you trying to do? Impress Lucy? End your life that you think is so sad and pitiful? What could you possibly accomplish from this action? Why do you think I need this kind of service from someone like you?” Charles demanded.
“I am merely trying to atone for the actions I have already done. What I am trying to do here is better than what I have ever done.” Carton whispered, hoping the murmuring crowd would drown out their conversation.
“You don’t need to make this sacrifice. It is just a foolish waste of your life.”
“I am also doing this to help someone I care about. What I am going to do will save your life as well.”
Charles, who just realized how Carton’s actions would save his life from his words, stood in frozen fear foolishly fretting frighteningly for a fiercely fatal fate.
“Charles! He is the real Charles! I know his voice! His horrible, annoying voice still burns in rage in my head!” roared the Vengeance, “he is trying to deceive us all! He is taking us for fools and mocking us by stepping right in front of us!”
In such a small time lapse Charles was rushed by Carton’s captors and slammed into the wooden casing with the roaring sea of the crowd in the background angrily cheering at the man being lead in a much more aggressive method than how Carton was lead. In a dark happiness and an even darker lack of sanity Charles became pleased with his actions since in his eyes he was putting Carton back to the pitiful state he was accused of originally being in. With Lucie staring at a shocked, tearful distance locking eyes with Charles she seemed to beg him not to end his life. Charles nearly smiled with a smug look at Carton, ignoring Lucie.
Charles, in his high standard of living, chose to sacrifice his life in an attempt to look like he was morally surpassing what he believed was his competition. A sacrifice for the sacrificing took place as the national razor prepared to fall. It appeared that Charles had morally collapsed to such an extent that he only sought to feel morally surpassing by performing a hollowly moral action for the sake of looking like a moral man.
Carton, struggling to reach Charles, could only yell his feelings of rage at the man who was willing to sacrifice his life and add trials to Lucie’s life and their children for the sole purpose of looking moral. Cartons rage boiled from his mind and transcended from a metaphoric form to reality in the form of a few final words:
“It is a far, far worse thing what you are doing than what you have ever done”.

2. I think that I would like to improve on my knowledge of how other famous writers put descriptive and poetic imagery in their writings. I can’t really think of anything that could be improved in the class. I think that the descriptive elaboration from the teachings should really be kept the same because it is very effective and I really learn a lot from it. I think that the way the class is taught information should be kept the same.

Philip Caffry said...

My alternative ending A Tale of Two Cities:

Carton is waiting in line to go up the steps to La Guillotine. In his mind his thoughts are all of things that he finds peaceful, like Lucie Manette and the seamstress. There are 15 people in front of him in line to meet La Guillotine. The seamstress is right in front of him.
Meanwhile on the other side of the city, Lucie and Darnay find each other, Lucie, surprised to see that Darnay is out of prison and is not climbing the stairs to La Guillotine, is overjoyed to see him. But quickly she puts things together and realizes that Carton has taken his place.
14 people. Carton is still peaceful at mind still thinking of the beautiful Lucie and the life that he is providing for her and her husband. He is also still thinking of the seamstress and what they could have done if they were to have both lived.
Lucie, Darnay, Dr Manette, Mr. Cruncher, Mr. Lorry and Miss Pross, are now armed with the weapons that they liberated from the recently deceased Madame Defarge. They race towards the square in which La Guillotine resides. Even in the twisting and hectic streets of Paris they were able to get there in minutes, for the voice of the crowd was incredibly loud.
13 people. Carton even though he is closer to La Guillotine now than most people are ever in their life, and his thoughts have shifted from predominantly thoughts of Lucie to thoughts of the seamstress. He thinks that if they somehow made it out of this encounter with La Guillotine, that they could live together happily for their entire lives.
The group of friends are now deep within the crowd rushing towards the towering figure of La Guillotine. She looks out at them daring them to come closer, daring them to fight her for the life of their friend. Knowing well that they are losing valuable time within her group of followers.
12 people. Carton looks out to the crowd and sees a grimacing Mr. Defarge, at that moment he realizes that he never truly wanted to so this but his wife is forcing him to.
Defarge sees that this man in line is not actually the Marquis de St. Évremonde but is an imposter. He doesn’t care that it is not the real Évremonde, but he wishes to save the man that is giving up his life.
11 people. Carton looks out again and this time he sees something terrifying. His friends are coming to save him, this is not what he wanted. He wanted them to be in England by this time. But deep inside him his heart is bursting with joy, he is loved, he is wanted and now he realizes that it is not his fate to die but to live.
The group of friends is now at the foot of La Guillotine, they ran into Defarge and they were about to kill him when he said “Wait, I’ll help you.” They devised a plan and put it into action.
7 people. For the first time that day Carton is nervous, he is nervous be cause the seamstress is now literally at the steps to La Guillotine he doesn’t think it would be fair that he would escape with out her. He holds her hand and at the touch she turns around. At that instant they were both tackled and were knocked of their feet into the crowd. It was Darnay and Mr. Cruncher, they had come flying up and hit them. By pure luck Carton had continued to hold on to the hand of the seamstress and she had gone flying into the crowd with him. The guards of La Guillotine began firing upon them, but by some miracle, they were not hit and soon they had a wall of people between them.
Defarge was asked what he wanted to do about it, “Let them go,” he said. “Let them go.”

In quarter two I want to do the same thing we have been doing for the entire first quarter, with some easier things thrown in order to get a grade booster. But I really enjoyed this classes atmosphere and personality and the teaching style. Thanks for the good first quarter Ms. Piro.

celliott28 said...

Alternate Ending: A Tale of Two Cities

Part One
“Unanimously voted. At heart and by descent an Aristocrat, an enemy of the Republic, a notorious oppressor of the People. Back to the Conciergerie, and Death within four-and twenty hours.” Lucie screamed and it was like a dagger went into Charles Darnay’s heart, he could not leave his family, his Lucie behind. If he knew anything he knew that the reason he denounced his name was because his family had done wrong to these people and for that he had not done any of such kind. Charles Darnay knew that this was not his last night of any kind.

The sun peered in through the shut shades casting a shadow upon Lucie’s face. It had been ten hours since her husband’s sentence and ten hours since she had been conscious, for Lucie and her heart this was the best. In the other room, Mr. Lorry, Dr. Manette and Mr. Carton whispered meticulously to each other trying not to wake Lucie and her precious child.
“This, this is all my doings” Dr. Manette uttered. “If, if I had only remembered, If I had only thought.” His words turned into sobs and Mr. Lorry Grasped his hand, “Nonsense, how could any of us have known of Charles true heritage. If it wasn’t for, you’ve been there every day working in the same place you were imprisoned, you have done nothing of the sort.”
Mr. Carton silently picked up his glass, drank it, and placed it down. If only Barsad hadn’t been seen with Cly. His Lucie would have been happy; his heart would have been at peace. “I must attend to some work.” Mr. Carton said abruptly and with that he took one last drink and left. A few moments passed in silence until there was a startling knock at the door. Mr. Lorry let go of and approached the door, he turned the handle and there in front of him stood three men in red caps and a women knitting.
“Good day Madame, gentlemen, Citizens.” Mr. Lorry said, “What can I do for you today?”
“We are looking for, Dr. Alexander Manette and Lucie Manette whom wife and father in law to Charles Darnay.” Spoke Jacque the third.
“Yes, yes Dr. Manette is in here Lucie, however, is sleeping.”
“Wake them up, they are under arrest for plotting against the French Republic.” With that said, Madame Defarge hinted a grin as to her plans of revenge were turning out as expected.

celliott28 said...

Part Two
Charles Darnay had not closed an eye since his sentence as he was planning an escape out of his prison. All night he drew up plans and maps of where there were doors, hidden paths and few prison guards. When he finished, precisely at four-thirty early in the morning, he used his knife he smuggled into the prison and broke the lock. Every step he took was at pace, yet in silence, once he made it to the main door he creped passed the snoring guard and broke free of the jail and he ran. Darnay was not running away from the jail, but running to his love Lucie and his child whom he had left, whom he had lied to. All he wanted was to feel her soft lips and to hold her warm hands. Unfortunately when he got home just as the sun rose, he found Mr. Lorry with his face in his hands sobbing. With this Darnay ran into Lucie’s room, ran into Dr. Manettes room. Nowhere insight.
“What time?” Asked Darnay.
“A quarter passed the hour,” Mr. Lorry said wearily.
“The Trail?”
“No, the sentence, their death.”
Lucie held her fathers hand as she approached the guillotine. “Goodbye Father dearest. May I see you up in Heaven where we can rest at peace.” Lucie bravely said.
“Lucie my love may we all rest in peace.” Dr. Manette said as he watched his daughter approach the guillotine. With that he watched his daughter fade away into the darkness. Before Dr. Manette even reached the guillotine, his heart slowly faded as his daughters, and finally stopped.
Standing in the back of the crowed was Mr. Carton, with a wine bottle in his hand slowly drinking it. As he watched his love depart from life a tear dripped down his face and then he dropped the wine bottle and left for a preparation.

From around the corner Darnay appeared, drawing one last breath he saw he was too late. A Carriage passed by dripping with blood. Darnay’s heart stopped, or at least he had wished so, for his only desire was to be with Lucie, for eternity. With this desire he retrieved the very knife he had smuggled into jail from his left pocket and plunged it into his heart on the street of Saint Antoine. Mr. Carton happens to be walking those streets at the same time with a different destination. In seeing Charles Darnay’s body with a pool of blood next to him, he took his body and moved it behind a shop. “Oh Darnay, for this sin is the sin of a broken heart. I will do everything in my power to make this right” Mr. Carton spoke to the ghost of Charles Darnay. Mr. Carton proceeded into the Wine Shop, right in front of him was, Madame Defarge, Monsieur Defarge and the Vengeance. Without a word Mr. Carton pulled out his blunderbuss and shot all three of them then left. Mr. Carton returned to Mr. Lorry, Little Lucie, Miss Pross and Mr. Cruncher to inform them they must leave France at once.
* * * *
Mr. Lorry held Little Lucie in his arms, just as he did to Lucie as the made their way across the ocean back to England.

I really like the books we have read so far, and how on A Tale of Two Cities, we took our time with it so everyone could understand the book. Also I think that we should do separate quizzes for vocab and reading to make it so we get a chance to truly understand.Also I really like the study guides they really help with studying for the quizzes. So far though I really enjoy the course.

John Gehlbach said...

Actual text leading to the alternate ending:
The murmuring of many voices, the upturning of many faces, the pressing on of many footsteps in the outskirts of crowd, so that it swells forward in a mass, like one great heave of water, all flashes away. Twenty-three.

An alternate ending to A Tale of Two Cities:

The cold slice of the prisoner’s neck excited the ravenous, swelling crowd. The Vengeance felt the tremble, and immense power of the revolution around her. But she lamented the absence of her devoted champion, Madame Defarge.
“Come my knitting sisters find our leader” cried The Vengeance. “Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death!".
Her poignant words gathered a large mob of previously knitting women, as Madame Defarge’s determination inspired their cohesion. As the group stalked through the Parisian streets, many other revolutionaries joined their ranks. Like a flowing river, many other tributaries contributed to the vitality and passion of The Vengeance.
“Search the streets fellow Jacques” ordered The Vengeance. “We must locate dear Madame Defarge”.
The Carmagnole dance surrounded the fury of the wandering women. Shops, bakeries, and
banks were all looted in pursuit of the original knitter. The whole city seemed to swell in the mob conjured by The Vengeance.
Now, for the chance of gaining good favor, many impoverished people came to The Vengeance with tips of information. One such man approached from behind. Samson of the firewood guillotine, or the Wood-Sawyer, was anxious to help the cause of the revolution, as he always cuts firewood while longing for heads of the aristocracy to practice on.
“Great woman of retribution! I found our Madame!” said the Mender of Roads to The Vengeance. “I have found her in the Manette home dead as Marquis Evrémonde. I thought to check there as she was headed there after our meeting at my shop. Though the news is undesirable, I hope this information advances me to the high ranks of the Jacques?”
“How could it be so?”, cried The Vengeance. “Madame Defarge cold dead. What of the Manette family she went to inquire about”.
“The house was as vacant as the body of Evrémonde!”
“Your allegiance moves me Wood-Sawyer”, added The Vengeance. “But we must avenge Madame Defarge. Prove yourself to the revolution, come with me and the women! We will end the lives of Dr. Manette, Lucie Manette, her daughter, and any that sympathize with them!”
The Wood-sawyer follows at the heels of The Vengeance. Her strong demeanor encouraged him and many others to follow suite. The massive Carmagnole dance continued out of the district and Paris entirely. The mob made its way through the countryside like a raging river, gathering momentum. The unstoppable force, with The Vengeance at the head, was nearing our weary group of travelers.
The travelers, Dr. Manette, Lucie, Darnay, Mr. Lorry and their friends, all resided together in a fast moving carriage headed for the coast. Mr. Lorry, for a moment, thought back to his previous coach ride in England. How he longed for the safety of mother England and the regular business of Tellson’s bank. By now, Miss Pross and Jerry Cruncher had reached the others. All their minds dwelt on poor Carton and the possibility of being chased.

John Gehlbach said...

The Vengeance, now riding even faster as she closed in on her targets, signaled the revolutionaries to seize and detain the carriage.
“Stop that equipage, we must avenge Madame Defarge and punish the emigrants!”
The mob detained the carriage and dragged all the passengers out onto the side of the road. The Vengeance instructed the Wood-Sawyer to finally prove his allegiance to the revolution. She handed him a bloody tool of the revolution, the same axe that Madame Defarge used to kill the governor on Bastille day. The Wood-Sawyer pulled aside the believed Carton, really Charles Darnay, and hacked him to his death. The blood sprayed everywhere, staining the sweet blond hair of Little Lucie. Before the Wood-Sawyer could continue sawing people, Mr. Defarge appeared.
“Enough! This madness astonishes me! Retribution has been carried out for my late wife. Marquis St. Evrémonde, and his immediate lineage, have been dealt with. Don’t you remember the price paid by Charles Darnay this very morning. Now his friends and family die for what? For past grievances? Well these wrongs have been righted. The sins of the father have been repented.”
Mr. Defarge, without allowing anyone to stop him, puts Lucie, her daughter, and company back into the carriage. Cruncher, the only one not in shock, then leads the travelers away to the coast, and then to England.
Lucie and her daughter never forgot that tragic day. The day that the the sins of the father destroyed her husband, and the beautiful sacrifice of another.

Quarter 1 Reflection:
In this quarter I have come to learn that World Classics is an incredible course. I thoroughly enjoy this class for many reasons. One reason would be the reading selections. A Tale of Two Cities was especially enjoyable. I found my self very invested in the plot and the outcomes of the characters in the story. Other reason would be the atmosphere. I find the class very relaxed, but still academic. It is refreshing not to be stressed out during a period. The most important reason, is the teacher. Ms. Piro really makes this class.
In quarter Two, I would like everything about the class to remain the same. I would just personally like to finish all my compositions earlier. This way I have more time to edit and revise them before they are due.

Thanks Ms. Piro, I am really fortunate to have you again!

Natalia said...

Alternate Ending to A Tale of Two Cities:

Charles Darnay and his family travel to an inn at the edge of Paris after Darnay is released from prison. At the inn, Charles Darnay, Lucie, Dr. Manette and Miss Pross live for a short while away from all the commotion. No one knows exactly where they currently reside. A few weeks after their disappearance, new charges are pressed against the Marquis St. Evrémonde by the Defarges. News of Evrémonde’s (Darnay’s) arrest warrant permeates sickeningly fast through Paris.
After the new charges the Defarges sends out a certificate declaring whoever provides information on Evrémonde’s location would win a free cask of wine. Sydney Carton, hearing this treacherous news and knowing where Darnay and his family are hiding, travels to the inn. Sydney Carton is the first to project the news to the family of the arrest warrant, and of the certificate.
Dr. Manette, Sydney Carton and Charles Darnay decide they all need to help each other. Dr. Manette says he knows of a way to save Charles Darnay. Sydney Carton and Charles Darnay would have to switch their outer appearances.
Carton agrees eagerly, “I will take my life in Darnay’s place. I will be the head on the guillotine that sees it’s last light. Remember me brothers and I will save you from your pain. Remember me is all I ask.”
“Darnay may not have to die…” Dr. Manette continues.
After a dramatic pause, “How so?” Carton responds.
“Madame Defarge is not who she thinks she is. This information I have kept confidential to protect Madame Defarge. I worry now I will have to use it.”

Sydney Carton, dressed as Charles Darnay, enters the wine shop together with Dr. Manette. They see Madame Defarge. She sits, her skillful fingers knitting eagerly. She explains to the Vengence and Ernest Defarge again for the millionth time how the Marquis St. Evrémonde had abused her family and raped her sister. She is telling them how all the offspring of the Marquis must die. Her hateful manner had driven her to almost pull out her gun and point it at her husband. Seeing her furry Monsieur Defarge left to get a certain kind of beer from the basement. He claimed he didn’t return until fifteen minutes later.
Seeing Carton, who appears to be Darnay, Madame Defarge goes into a rage. She takes out her gun and points it at Carton.
As she is about to pull the trigger, Dr. Manette shouts out, “Wait. There is something you must know. You are not who you think you are. You are a daughter of the Marquis de Evrémonde.”
“What?,” exclaims Madame Defarge, “that is preposterous. What are you talking about?”
“My dear, I never meant to tell you, or to hurt you, but the time has come for you to know the truth. Enough people have died over these matters. The Marquis raped more than you know. Your mother, too, was a victim. You were his offspring, but you never knew because when your mother died giving birth to you, I was there as her doctor. I could not save her. I placed you with the family you thought was your blood family, who agreed to raise you as their own, in secret.”
“No! That can’t be! Never! I will kill you for even suggesting such a thought!”
Madame Defarge pulls out her gun shakily, fires and misses. The bullet hits Sydney Carton instead.
“Ha! I meant to kill you anyway. Dr. Manette, you’re next.”
Before she can fire again, the Vengeance pulls out her gun and cries out, “No, you’re next!” BOOM!
Madame Defarge falls to the ground and collapses.
“The daughter of the Marquis! By her own orders, she had to die”, cried out the Vengeance. “Did she not say that all of the Marquis’ offspring must die?”
By the time Earnest Defarge reentered the room with his beer, Dr. Manette had left the scene and The Vengeance was weeping over the body of Madame Defarge, “I had to do it. She said so herself.”

andrew said...

Since I wrote "a tale of two cities" for Dickens, I am displeased that he changed my awesome ending. The real ending is this:
Charles Darnay had just been arrested for the second time, leaving everyone confused and Lucie in tears with the fear that her beloved could be one of the many people in line for a shave at the national razor of France. At the trial, Dr. Manette explained his letter and why he did not denounce Charles after all with common sense. That common sense being that he did not know Charles at the time and Charles is, after all, his son in law. The mob of revolutionaries saw the light in their respected Doctor's words and let Charles free. Madame Defarge, of course, was enraged, but pleased as well. For this was the chance she'd been waiting for to finally complete her personal vendetta against the Evremonde Family. Mr. Lorry and Jerry Cruncher, embarked on their journey to the sea, where they would wait and secure passage back to England. They agreed to wait there for 2 days, so they could be sure it would be safe for Lucie, little lucie, Charles, Miss Pross, Carton, and the Doctor to travel to meet them there. They would leave in two groups: Carton with Miss Pross and the Lucies, and Darnay with the Doctor. Darnay would be extremely safe with the revered Doctor of Beauvais. Madame Defarge, arrives at the house just in time to see the first group leaving, mistaking Carton for Darnay, she follows closely. She is ecstatic to have all three of her targets in plain sight. Soon after, Mr. Defarge arrives at the residence, to see his once-master, one last time. He knew his wife left sometime earlier with her weapons, and he supposed she was going to the grind stone. He escorts the Doctor and Darnay out of Paris. When they are arriving at the city gates, he sees his wife in the distance, drawing her pistol. He screams "look out" and Miss Pross dives to take the bullet for Lucie. Samson of the fire-wood guillotine grabs his hatchet and beheads Madame Defarge. Mr. Defarge is relieved now that his promise to the Doctor has been kept and he is free of his matrimonial duties. Lucie is crying over miss pross, whose final words are "anything for my ladybird". Carton is grateful that he didn't have to save Lucie, goes with Barsad to the nearest bar and proceeds to get drunk per usual. They all celebrate in Paris at Defarge's wine shoppe and then travel safely back to England. THE END

In the second quarter of this school year, I would like to do most of what we've been doing so far. I really enjoyed doing the project, so one or two more of those would be fun. You added "a lot more grades" at the end of the quarter, which was helpful, but they were all 100 point assignments which do have a large effect on the grade overall. Spread them out with smaller point assignments in between. I would also like to regularly have a QOTW, because I find it an easy grade booster and they are sometimes interesting.

Lizzie Weindling said...
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Lizzie Weindling said...
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Billy D said...

Footsteps Home
Little known to Miss Pross the gunshot that ended the life of Madame Defarge had been herd by the neighboring revolutionaries. The cries of the mob went unnoticed by Miss Pross probably due to a combination of her deafness and her mad drive to the carriage. Chaos ensued, not the chaos was already present, but a more invigorated mob was even more aimless. Without bearings the seas of Paris rolled so much as to hide the ships responsible for the storm. In this time of turmoil equipages and ships alike went unnoticed to more stable grounds. As to say that Dr. Manette and his acquaintances had a chance of a possibility to escape.
Being an acquaintance of the doctor Sydney Carton took his chance of a possibility at a departure. With the news of Madame Defarge’s murder Évermonde’s execution is delayed in the possibility that he might be able to witness some information on the Madame’s death. In the excitement of the revolutionaries there is only one guard left to retain Carton. This guard of a non-sober state, who had lost his wife and child in the period leading up to the revolution, tells Carton of how the aristocracy shaped his life’s fate into one of pain and suffering and how now an Évermond must pay for the injustices committed. In an act of vengeance the guard, with bayonet fixed, jabs at Carton. In rare moment of soberness Carton reacts with feline instincts dodges the guard’s thrust, allowing his momentum to take him to the dirt. Carton finding himself in the alternate position in a drunken brawl acts with swiftness to dispose of the guard in a lethal manure. Carton pauses pensively and quickly justifies the act as just due to this mans life, much like his own, wasted in pain on dire fate.
With their papers Dr. Manette, Lucie and Darnay are able to leave Paris. Just outside the city however a great fever takes Darnay. It is unknown whether or not it was the chemicals or the guilt that brought it on, but not matter it stopped the carriage for quite some precious time. Although this time is thought o be precious to the doctor and his daughter it is even more so to that of Mr. Carton.
With fate finally on his side Carton makes his way to Tellson’s. Mistaking Carton for Darnay Mr. Lorry, thinking he is righting a wronged plan grants him use of his hoarse to catch up with the doctor’s carriage. Without correcting Mr. Lorry Carton sets on his flight. Making his way unobserved out of the city limits Carton miraculously finds his way upon a carriage reeking of human vomit.
To most this might seem like quite an unfortunate coincidence to travel alongside a stench such as this. For Carton and the family or maybe just the family it was a glorious trip to and across the channel to the second of the two cities. I end the novel with a quote from Carton stating, “It should not be mourned if nine times out of ten fate overcomes man, but let the celebrations never end for the one time man overcomes fate.”

CharlotteCadow said...

Alternate Ending:

Unbeknownst to Ms. Pross, the figure she left lying in the dimly lit room is not a corpse. The gun shot had entered her abdomen, and therefore hers would be a slow death. Soon after Ms. Pross exited the building, Madame Defarge struggled to her feet, and hobbled down the stairs into the street. Remembering Darnays execution, she shuffled to the square.


Carton took the last few steps to the guillotine. The executioner laid him down below the blade, and lined him up so that his head would be cleanly severed from his body. Smiling, he closed his eyes and prepared for the sweetness of death.
“Carton, what has thou done to betray those of the French Revolution?” shouted a voice from the crowd
“Good citizen, you must be mistaken. This is no Carton, but a Monsieur Evrémonde, known as Darnay in England, who has been denounced by Madame Defarge herself,” replied the executioner.
“I’d know Sydney Carton anywhere, and this is certainly he. Why, I just saw Darnay heading towards England in a carriage. They were driving quite recklessly.”
“Stryver – I urge you to say no more. I am Darnay, sentenced to death for the wrongs I have committed. Please, to not send yourself to a similar end. Have you had too much to drink, for I can think of no other reason you would mistake me for Sydney Carton.”
The crowd grew silent, waiting for Stryver’s response.
“Kill them both, add to the count!” The mender of roads broke the silence, bloodthirsty for La Guillotine. This started a chant that was taken up by the rest of the audience. “Off with their heads! We want them dead!”
The Vengence’s shrill voice rung out over the crowd, “Madame! She has arrived! Let Defarge through – she will decide!”
Madame Defarge limped to her seat, trailing blood behind her. The peasants gasped at her presence, and quickly cleared a path.
At this same time, Ms. Pross was traversing the square, making her way to meet Jerry Cruncher. She heard the shouts of “Let Defarge through!” and skidded to a stop. “It is not possible. I have shot her, and saved Ladybird. No, no it can not be possible. Recalled to life?” Ms. Pross hustled to the guillotine where she saw Madame Defarge step onto the platform to speak.
Madame Defarge stood atop the stand and addressed the public. “Let these men die for their wrongs. They oppose us, question our values, and dare to defy all that we have worked for. Let the executioner continue with his respectable work, and add that man to the line!”
A greet cheer escaped the audience observing the work of the guillotine. Two revolutionaries seized Stryver by the arms, wrestled him to the ground, and bound his hands together. He shouted out, “but I have done nothing! You have no right to do this! I am a lawyer, and this is illegal. I demand that you let me go.”
“Do you oppose us further, prisoner? There are worse things that can be done, such as being drawn and quartered. Is that something you would prefer? For it can most certainly be arranged,” replied Madame Defarge, appearing as sure as ever, despite a slight sway. Suddenly, she dropped to the ground. The crowd shrieked, praying that their beloved Madame Defarge was not injured. The executioner let go of the rope he had been holding, and the blade fell, adding another prisoner to its count. The revolutionaries let go of Stryver, who escaped into the crowd. Ms. Pross hurrahed, satisfied that she had indeed saved Lucie and Darnay from such a ruthless woman.

CharlotteCadow said...

Quarter 2 - I would like to continue to read some classics. This is a type of literature that I do not read in my free time because I often find it confusing, but reading it as a class allows me to grasp concepts I usually would not.

Change - I liked the creative project we did for A Tale of Two Cities, and I would like to do more in Quarter 2.

Remain - I would like to continue to discuss our reading in class and fill out study guides. I also enjoyed learning about the writers lives because it allowed me to observe how much their lives influenced their writing.

Kelly G said...

1. The smell of blood, thick and metallic in the prisoners’ nostrils, wafted through the air. It weighed them down, lingering in their dirty hair, wrapping around their bodies, slipping through their torn clothes. It tied them together, unified them just as their imminent deaths did.
The prisoners in front of and behind Carton were drenched in the smell of blood. Carton, however, did not smell the blood, the death. Instead, he smelled the sweet, flowery aroma of Lucie. His eyes didn’t flash with fear, but shown with love. He didn’t see the gleam of the Guillotine, but rather his vision was occupied with the image of Lucie in his mind’s eye, her smile like a ray of sun falling upon Carton’s face.
Carton took a step forward. He did not hear the drop of the Guillotine or the dull, sickening thud that it made as it connected with its victim. Instead, he heard the melodic laughter of Lucie– a product of the happiness he was trying so hard to preserve in her.
Suddenly, the Guillotine was standing before Carton in all its power. Carton could no longer imagine Lucie, could no longer see her perfection emblazoned in his mind’s eye. He no longer heard her laughter. Instead, he felt the hard wood under his neck as he was pushed to the ground and made to kneel before the hideous contraption, as though bowing to its mercy.
Carton awoke with a start. He had fallen asleep at his desk again, as always. A half-empty bottle sat before him and he took a swig as he tried to shake the lingering terror of the Guillotine. He stood quickly and ran out the door.
It was nighttime. Why, Carton wondered, did these types of things always seem to happen at nighttime? Perhaps, he thought, it was the popular belief that the darkness could conceal the evil that was to be done.
He stood in the crowd, clinging to his bottle like a child to its blanket. A woman to his right shouted, her voice deep and laced with bloodlust, “Kill ‘em!” The man behind Carton shoved him, craning his neck for a better view of the murders.
Carton, his eyes burning with unshed tears, watched as his better self, commonly known to the world as Darnay, stepped onto the platform. Carton couldn’t help but note, with a hint of disdain that made him hate himself even more, that Darnay carried himself to the Guillotine with much more bravery than he would have, had it been him. Darnay knelt before the Guillotine, and Carton heard him murmur, “Someone, please, tell her I love her. That ray of sun…”
Then, within a moment, it was over. You could have blinked and missed it. Carton felt a familiar, fiery hatred burn in his chest. It was a self-hatred like no other he had ever known. He knew in that moment that he had not done that which Fate had wanted him to. For once, he hadn’t followed Fate.
He stared down into his bottle, clenching his teeth. He vaguely registered that his knees had hit the ground. He noted, in the sort of half-aware state of someone coming out of a deep sleep, how easy it could have been for him to be in the same position before the Guillotine. Why had he not knelt, as he did now, in place of Darnay? Bitter hatred burned inside him as his bottle shattered in his grip.
2. I would like to have more more chances for creative projects such as the Tale of Two Cities project, for which I made a music video.

Lizzie Weindling said...

part one:

It was the day after the release of Darnay when Madame Defarge speculated the events that had happened, and the events that still need to be achieved. Defarge had many times expressed how he does not want to harm the Manette’s which Ms. Defarge believes is completely foolish. Defarge was their servant at one time, a servant to an aristocrat. He should be begging me to put my plan into action sooner; we both would get the revenge we deserve against the family of Manettes and Darnay. However, Mr. Defarge felt nothing close to how his wife felt. To him, the Manette’s were kind. Compared to other aristocrats, the Manette’s were family. 

“Darnay, you will need to stay somewhere away from the Manette’s,” Mr. Lorry stated, “It would not be in your interest to stay as it would put Lucie, your daughter, and Dr. Manette in danger. You know well that unless you are able to turn around this city’s opinion of you, everyday you will be in harm of going back to prison.”

“I am in agreement with you, Mr. Lorry. But I have just returned, and cannot let go of my wife and daughter so quickly. I understand that everyday I am in great danger of returning back to prison, but wouldn’t it be most helpful if the city saw I was in good terms with the Manettes?”

“No, the only way to be safe before returning to England is to get the Defarges on your side. Which will no doubt be the hardest minds to turn.”

“Well then, tomorrow I will visit the wine shop. I will discuss the events that has made the Defarges so against me, and try and turn them around.”

“I wish you luck,” said Mr. Lorry as he stepped out of the Manette’s apartment.

As he closed the door, Mr. Lorry looked around and to make sure no eyes were watching him as he quickly removed Darnay’s new name on the door. If it were up to him, Darnay would have left the prison and immediately started his journey back to England. 

The next morning, before the sun had risen, Darnay slipped out his door without being noticed. He wanted to arrive at the wine shop when he knew no one would be around, and he would have time to convince Mrs. Defarge to talk with him. He planned to tell of his last night with his uncle, how he suspected his own uncle had accused him of being a spy, that he had always planned to give up his title, and that he had. How the Evermond they thought he was, no longer existed, and he was only Charles Darnay; a man that worked to support his family, had no servants, and is as much against the aristocrats as they themselves are. 

Darnay knocked on the old wooden door for minutes before the Mr. Defarge grumpily opened the door. He had never opened the shop before nine o’clock, and it is widely known that the Defarges are rarely morning persons. As soon as he opened the door and saw Darnay, Mr. Defarge was wide-awake. He pondered the thought of telling Darnay to go leave for his own safety, but the begging look in Darnay’s eyes had Defarge opening the door to let Darnay in before he realized his actions. His wife was upstairs, and he quickly sat Darnay down and hurried to his wife. 

Darnay heard the noise on the stairs and looked up, meeting the hateful eyes of Mrs. Defarge. It wasn’t until now that Darnay knew how hard this conversation would be. “I have come to hear why you hate me so much, and explain my reasons of why I am no longer part of the Evermond family you hate,” said Darnay in a booming voice.

Lizzie Weindling said...

part two:

“I do not have any reason to explain myself to you, other than to warn you that in a day or two, your freedom will be gone. You are a descendent of the Evermonds, and that is reason enough for you to be condemned.”

Defarge looked silently between his wife and Darnay, the conversation had now moved to Darnay giving a full explanation of his life, the life he apparently hated. 

“-That night, I had planned to tell my uncle my real plan of what will happen to the family name once he is gone. There will be no more servants; no more scared people of going against the family name. I told my uncle how I planned to move to the country, and make my own living. The family inheritance would go to someone that more deserving, and would change the look on faces when they hear the name Evermond. As you know, I have followed my plan and to me, I am no longer part of the Evermond family. I live as a peasant and make my own living. The only power I have now is a say in the lives of the Manette’s and my daughter, Lucie. I am aware of what loss you faced as a child, and the Evermonds should be held responsible for the actions against your family, but I am no longer, and never was at heart, an Evermond. I beg you to allow me to fight along side you and your husband as the revenge continues against the aristocrats. I beg you to let me stay with my family, and watch little Lucie grow up, as I grow old with my wife. I beg you to turn the opinions of your friends, and to help me be welcomed into joining the fight against the aristocrats. I thank you for listening to me, and I hope you will think about what I have said. I will leave you now and allow you to make your decision. Goodbye Defarge and Mrs. Defarge.” 

As Darnay left, the Defarges glanced at one another, unsure of how to respond. Mrs. Defarge did not want to give up the revenge that she has waited her whole life for. The deaths of her sister, brother, and father are all at the hands of the Evermonds. But as she half listened to her husband talk about how Darnay has a good point that he gave up his title, and has a new family, of who should not deserve to loose Darnay. Mrs. Defarge half-heartedly agreed and decided she would meet with the Vengeance and talk about how the plan to recapture Darnay was off, but instead to test him on if he truly is against the aristocrats. 


A week later, Darnay was in the heart of the revolutionaries. Long meeting had taken place to discuss the place of Darnay, and to prove that he really is no longer an aristocrat. It was Mr. Defarge himself that suggested Darnay would serve as another judge in the trials. Everyone would then see if he was playing favorites, and if Darnay was afraid to sentence his old ‘friends’ to the Bastille. Everyone had agreed, and Darnay had started judging the following day. He proved to be a fair judge, and listening to the feelings of the revolutionaries, but also arguments of the accused. 

For second quarter I would like to continue what we currently did in first quarter, but hand in the worksheets and study packets for a grade and not just a homework grade. I really like the class discussions and find them really interesting, also clarifying. I also like the atmosphere of the class as Philip said.

olivialicciardi said...

My alternate ending to a Tale of Two Cities would be something along the lines of this: Sydney Carton would not be innocently killed. Carton saves Darnay from execution, knowing that if he had been killed, Lucie would forever be in a state of shock. Carton tricks Monsieur Defarge into coming to the prison to talk to Darnay one last time, when he comes in, Darnay knocks him out, and then Carton and Darnay paint his face to look like Charles, stick him back in prison, so that when the executioner comes back to get him, its really Defarge disguised as Charles. Darnay and Carton sneak out of the prison, and get back to the Manette household, where Lucie and his daughter and Miss Pross are waiting anxiously for him. Mr. Lorry arrives shortly after, telling them they need to leave immeadiately for england, otherwise they will be killed. They pack up their carriage with all of their belongings, and set off for England, leaving Carton and Miss Pross to finish up the last of the stuff, and will meet them shortly in London. Carton has mixed feelings about leaving the house with Miss Pross alone, knowing Madame Defarge is lurking somewhere. As soon as he leaves, Madame Defarge shows up, looking for Lucie and Charles, Miss Pross told her off and asked her to leave, Madame Defarge insisted she was lying, throwing all the doors of the house open looking for them, but no one is there. Miss Pross screams at Madame Defarge telling her she has no buisness whatsoever in this house, and that she is to leave immeadiately. When she doesn't leave, Miss Pross gets the prison guards to come over and take Madame Defarge into custody for several counts of murder, and conspiracy to commit murder,and is to wait trial. Carton meanwhile longs to see his friends again, so he moves to London to visit them, and while their meets a nice british lady with whom he falls in love with, meeting Stryver's request that he marry someone. Charles and Lucie and their daughter settle back into normal life back in London, and Lucie is due yet again with a child, bringing tons of joy to her, Charles, her father and her daughter.

I would like to work on turning everything on time, ask good questions, and to really open up and get into class discussions and have fun and be open minded.

Sydney S. said...

Alternate Ending:
Carton was approaching la guillotine feeling better than he had in the majority of his life. The seamstress in front of him could not understand how Carton was content with the fate he was about to enter in to. Carton was having only happy thoughts as his turn to face la guillotine approached knowing that he had made Lucy a happy woman.
Meanwhile, across town, Lucie is drowning in her own tears. She doesn’t know what to do now that she is about to loose her beloved husband for the second time. She has no friends surrounding her or any shoulder to cry on. Out of nowhere, Darnay suddenly comes running though the doors of their home. They run to each other in a strong embrace. Darnay exclaims, “we must go, there is no time to explain.” But, Lucie being the hardheaded woman that she is absolutely refuses to leave the room until he explains to her how accomplished escaping. With little argument, Darnay agrees to explain.
A few minutes later, once Darnay has told the story Lucie is in shock. She can’t speak nor move. Darnay doesn’t know what is wrong.
Lucie has a million thoughts running though her mind, she doesn’t know what to say or do first. All she knows is that Carton is important to her and needs to stop this execution. She goes running out the house with no explanation. Darnay runs after her yelling that they need to leave and that there is no time to save Carton. Lucie doesn’t listen though and knows what needs to be done. She knows that she can’t live a happy life knowing she let her friend die on her behalf.
After running all the way to la Guillotine she sees that Carton being lined up on the blade by executer. Having no plan, all she knows how to do is yell. She pushes her way through the crowd and bursts out screaming for Carton. Just as she is yelling, the executor let the blade slip and carton was no more. Darnay had caught up now and was yelling to Lucie. When he came running into the crowd, everyone realized that Carton was an imposter and called Darnay out. The guards quickly grabbed him and prepared him for him own execution. Lucie kicked and screamed but it didn’t change anything. The two locked eyes with each other giving apologetic looks for everything they have done to each other.
As the blade fell to Darnay’s neck, Lucie stood in the crowd. Her eyelids became heavy and her legs unsteady. Not only did she loose her friend but she lost her cherished husband. She fell to the ground and died of heartbreak, there was no more for her to live for.

Quarter Reflection:
World Classics was overall a wonderful class and definitely a new experience, I learned a lot. It was a great group of people, which made it an enjoyable time. Something I would change would be the books that we read. I think that they could have been better. The discussions that we had in class were very helpful in clarifying though. I’ll miss the class second quarter!

Alexis Williams said...

1. My alternate ending to Tale of Two Cities:

The purple sky blushed as the sun rose over the city. The first rays of sunlight cast crimson shadows in the rotting alleyways and on chipping buildings. Gradually the hazy, bloodstained air engulfed the town’s square and the terrifying monster that had claimed the territory. Its large gaping mouth snored peacefully, the taste of salty blood still on its breath. The monster lacked basic manors and often sprayed and splattered its food. The ground around its splintering wooden feet was stained with its pervious meals’ tasty juices. It longed for the flavorful wine of the aristocrats. The nobler the victim was, the richer their blood. The creature had been fed many victims but it still hungered for the taste of flesh and defeat. Today it was going to feast. Fifty-two delicious souls were about to become the beast’s lunch. It’s single tooth was clean and sharp, glinting in the sun’s early rays of cold blue light, ready for a days long work of indulging on its aristocrat morsels.
The sun glared down on audience’s faces as they stood on tiptoe to get a better view of the scene. They were blinded by its striking brightness and relentless heat. Some shielded their eyes from the brilliance while others attempted to cover their heads to avoid the singing of their hair. Sweaty, dirty bodies crowed together, swaying slightly as each individual tried to see past the one in front of them. The beast lay in the center of the gathering, sitting menacingly high in posture. Its only shadow cast was on the helpless meal that lay spread out before it. Its tooth was dripping with blood as it slowly opened its lethal jaws, preparing to chomp down on another human’s neck. It the early afternoon and already the beast had swallowed plenty of offerings and sent them down to its bowels below the earth’s crust. The crowd had made quite a spectacle of the feast. With each rolling head, they shouted, whistled and praised the monster for ridding the world of another aristocrat. Pleased with their reaction, the savage happily opened its welcoming chops to the next meal waiting in line.
“Shuck!” “Chop!” “Thunk!” Were sounds heard as the beast took the life of a frail, young woman. Her blood ran down its lips and pooled in small puddles at its feet. She had been exchanging her last words with the next gentleman in line. They had shared a brief kiss before she departed. Now it was his turn. The man was proud in stature. His shoulders back, but relaxed, and his face was calm. The monster had never taken the time to examine its food, but for some reason, there was something different about this man. Perhaps it was the look in his eyes. They shone brightly in the sun as they gazed up one last time before retreating to monster’s jowls. The crowd went crazy as soon as he bent down to receive the embrace of the beast. The knitting women in front howled and cackled, rejoicing in the fall of their greatest enemy. The monster open it’s jaws awaiting the next command to bite down. The signal was given, and the beast let its tooth fall onto the neck of the man. There was a silence, for the man had not seemed worried about his fate, but rather joyous. His face showed no sign of fear or hatred. He died with dignity.

2. This quarter I would like to get better at reading actively and understanding what is happening in the book were are currently reading.

EmilyA said...

Sydney Carton, disguised as Charles Darnay, continued to speak with the seamstress but his eyes were bound to la Guillotine. A chilling thud followed by a number, was calmly pronounced by a row of knitting-women, came after each death. The women never stopped knitting, keeping a smooth rhythm and showing no compassion or sympathy towards the line awaiting their death. Sydney Carton began the countdown in his head, "Three, two, one” With all the energy he had, he quickly jumped onto the Spy, John Barsad, who had been closely watching him. The woman who had previously yelled "Thérese" now screamed, "Darnay!" John Bardsad was no fool. He returned the attack just as quickly as Carton had given it by flipping him onto his back on the street. The crowd shrieked as Carton’s head split open on the ground and his eyes rolled back into his head.
The Vengeance was thrilled. She exclaimed, "Where is Madame Defarge? We must find her at once, as I am sure she will want to witness the beheading of Darnay!” The row of women dispersed throughout the streets with no questions asked, hoping to find Thérèse before it was too late. John Barsad, who was still in shock, called for assistance in removing the body to the wood-sawyers shop until Mme Defarge was found.
The Vengeance, the row of knitting women, and people from the crowd had been searching for Madame Defarge for hours with no clue as to where she might be. The crew had searched everywhere they could think of, the wine shop, her home, the tower where Doctor Manette had once lived, and all the streets in Saint Antoine and beyond. The Vengeance was beginning to become impatient with her bad luck and wanted to return to the beheadings, as it brought her joy to see other people suffer. Finally, she had one last idea, the only hope she could think of to find her commander. The Vengeance made her way to the home where Lucie Manette and her daughter had been living. She didn’t bother knocking on the door, as it would take too much energy. Instead she took out her pistol and shot the heavy lock off the door. The sight of Madame Defarge’s body was so ungodly the Vengeance covered her eyes and gasped in disbelief. She was in such shock she couldn’t breath or cry. Not able to bear the sight of her friend anymore, the Vengeance ran through the streets regaining her breath and wiping tears from her flushed cheeks.
Just as she turned to corner heading back to the wine shop to inform Monsieur Defarge someone stepped into her path. About 15 feet in front of her Miss Pross stood firmly. Her arms pointed straight out in front of her with a gun clutched between them. Suddenly everything made sense to the Vengeance, but before the could even think about what to do next, Miss Pross said calmy, “Guess who’s next?” and shot. The bullet went straight into the Vengeance’s chest, killing her immediately. Miss Pross dropped her gun, still stunned about the day she had had and ran off to pick up Charles, Lucie, and their daughter and secretly move far far away, where they would never be recognized for what they had done.

EmilyA said...

For the second quarter I would like to improve by keeping myself updated with the online calendar and by participating more in class discussions. I had a lot of fun this quarter in world classics. I like the atmosphere in the class and the amount of homework we are expected to complete.

Brett M. said...

Alternate Ending:
Charles stared at himself in the mirror. His head was spinning and his heart beating faster and faster. He could feel the anger building up inside of him, like a pot about to boil over. How could he have let this happen? Another man facing the blade for the sake of his beloved. “Why, you fool? Why?!” He shouted at himself, as if he was standing in front of Carton. Some time had passed since Carton sacrificed himself allowing Charles and his family to escape. At first, the news of course shocked Charles, but it wasn’t until the day after that the full effect of Carton’s deed set in. “It was for her! Whom do you think you impress?” shouted Charles, as his face turning a bright red. His whole body was shaking with rage as he raised a fist and sent it through the mirror, which cracked outwards like a flower of shining blades. Each shard now contained it’s own reflection of Charles, but to him it was like two-dozen Cartons staring back at him. He pulled his now bloodied fist away and covered his face, slumping over to a table where he slid into a seat. His eyes were glazed over as if he were looking into the past and future at the same time. “What kind of man am I to allow this to happen?” he asked himself. The answer was clear, though; he was the lesser man. To Charles, Carton’s sacrifice was a curse, a hex of pain on his heart that would forever remain.
Charles sat for hours through the night, unaware of his hand, which was bleeding across the floor and table. Eventually he decided to rise to clean his wound, and as he was wrapping it, something gleamed in the corner of his eye. He turned to examine it and froze. Across the room from him sat an unopened bottle of liquor, given to him by a friend as a marriage gift. The bottle had a green tint with a warm glow to it, like the eyes of a comforting friend. Charles was attracted to this hue and the curved shape of the bottle, as it completely enveloped him, drawing him in like an evil serpent speaking to his soul. He wrapped his bloody hands around the bottle, popping the cork out. His eyes were wide and empty as he threw back the first swig. After the next two or three he started to laugh. “Oh! All a joke, just a cruel joke…” he mumbled jadedly. It was here that all night Charles sat and drowned his sorrows as his loved ones slept. Each thought of Carton was accompanied by a swig from the green bottle, until the bottle ran dry. It was then that Charles rose, tearing off his ascot. He spread the fabric flat across the table, and using his finger and a small pool of his own blood he wrote “He will always be the more perfect version of me.” With this, Charles Darnay stumbled out of the door, disappearing under the cloak of night.

Catherine C. said...

The ride to the guillotine was full of bumps and lurches, as the cage-like tumbril trundled slowly over the filthy cobblestone streets of Saint Antoine. The prisoners were packed tight in the hellish carriage, and lost their footing easily, though the speed they were carried at was that of a funeral procession. The bedraggled citizens looked up at the carts of cattle being led to the slaughter, some casting looks of pity up at the doomed, others barely glancing at them, full of nothing but apathy at the familiar sight. Most, however, jeered and sneered, spitting at the slowly turning wheels of the giant, rolling machines. Among the victims of this abuse was the young seamstress and Carton, who held eachother in an embrace both mandated by the restricted freedom of movement, and due to the overwhelming sense of foreboding and revulsion that rose from the stomachs to the throats of the two unfortunate souls at the sight of the national razor, gleaming bright and terrible in the harsh zenith of the sun. The unstable cart finally halted, and a slow trickle of victims began to leak out onto the scaffold as a great sea of people settled in to watch the show. The aristocrats, some still dressed in their sumptuous lace cuffs and rich velvets, were met with a tidal wave of hollered insults, the voices brimming with a strange combination of vitriol and joy. Shining silver became vivid crimson, the pale, powered faces of the Second Estate became even more leached as they fell into the basket, and the world started to swim before the seamstress’ eyes. She looked back at her imposter, and he appeared to be drowning in the moisture that clouded her vision. She almost wished he was drowning, that way he would not have to look up at the great ocean of angry faces that would certainly meet his gaze with unmitigated contempt. One by one, the sharp jaws of the formidable Lady Guillotine bit into yet another tasty morsel, and the line to the end grew shorter and shorter. The pace of the day was suddenly was thrown into double-time, and the seamstress was jerked into place behind just two other poor, doomed hearts. She turned to the savior Darnay, face impassive but his eyes full of some unnamable emotion. She exchanged a few short, pithy words to him, and then found his lips against her cheek and hers against his. He smelled unlike the dank, sweaty, cloying scent that could be detected in an overabundance in the jail cell and the tumbril, the smell of desparation and wasted life. Instead, he smelled of sweet pride and hope, a sort of sacrifice that meant something different and yet equally beautiful to both the giver and the receiver. She looked at him again just one more time, and then shut her eyes tight as she was lead to the chopping block, wanting his cerulean eyes, blazing with silent passion and his sad little encouraging smile to be the last thing she would ever see on her short time on this earth. She felt the damp, slightly warm wood beneath her throat and the crisp cold air whispering across her naked neck when she heard the order called. Fallowing that, she heard nothing but the muted cheers of an overexcited audience, the roaring sound of sharp steel falling like a bullet out a chamber, and the quiet, lethal clicking of needles as many more lives such as hers were knitted into nonexistence.

I would like to continue doing such activities as this (finding creative tangents to base after republished works) with Harry Potter. I am looking forward to the discussions and dissecting the many complex characters that pop up in HP7!

Catherine C. said...

The ride to the guillotine was full of bumps and lurches, as the cage-like tumbril trundled slowly over the filthy cobblestone streets of Saint Antoine. The prisoners were packed tight in the hellish carriage, and lost their footing easily, though the speed they were carried at was that of a funeral procession. The bedraggled citizens looked up at the carts of cattle being led to the slaughter, some casting looks of pity up at the doomed, others barely glancing at them, full of nothing but apathy at the familiar sight. Most, however, jeered and sneered, spitting at the slowly turning wheels of the giant, rolling machines. Among the victims of this abuse was the young seamstress and Carton, who held eachother in an embrace both mandated by the restricted freedom of movement, and due to the overwhelming sense of foreboding and revulsion that rose from the stomachs to the throats of the two unfortunate souls at the sight of the national razor, gleaming bright and terrible in the harsh zenith of the sun. The unstable cart finally halted, and a slow trickle of victims began to leak out onto the scaffold as a great sea of people settled in to watch the show. The aristocrats, some still dressed in their sumptuous lace cuffs and rich velvets, were met with a tidal wave of hollered insults, the voices brimming with a strange combination of vitriol and joy. Shining silver became vivid crimson, the pale, powered faces of the Second Estate became even more leached as they fell into the basket, and the world started to swim before the seamstress’ eyes. She looked back at her imposter, and he appeared to be drowning in the moisture that clouded her vision. She almost wished he was drowning, that way he would not have to look up at the great ocean of angry faces that would certainly meet his gaze with unmitigated contempt. One by one, the sharp jaws of the formidable Lady Guillotine bit into yet another tasty morsel, and the line to the end grew shorter and shorter. The pace of the day was suddenly was thrown into double-time, and the seamstress was jerked into place behind just two other poor, doomed hearts. She turned to the savior Darnay, face impassive but his eyes full of some unnamable emotion. She exchanged a few short, pithy words to him, and then found his lips against her cheek and hers against his. He smelled unlike the dank, sweaty, cloying scent that could be detected in an overabundance in the jail cell and the tumbril, the smell of desparation and wasted life. Instead, he smelled of sweet pride and hope, a sort of sacrifice that meant something different and yet equally beautiful to both the giver and the receiver. She looked at him again just one more time, and then shut her eyes tight as she was lead to the chopping block, wanting his cerulean eyes, blazing with silent passion and his sad little encouraging smile to be the last thing she would ever see on her short time on this earth. She felt the damp, slightly warm wood beneath her throat and the crisp cold air whispering across her naked neck when she heard the order called. Fallowing that, she heard nothing but the muted cheers of an overexcited audience, the roaring sound of sharp steel falling like a bullet out a chamber, and the quiet, lethal clicking of needles as many more lives such as hers were knitted into nonexistence.

I would like to continue doing such activities as this (finding creative tangents to base after republished works) with Harry Potter. I am looking forward to the discussions and dissecting the many complex characters that pop up in HP7!

Nick said...

Carton sat alone in his room, swallowing not only his drink, but his fears of the day to come. He relived his last moments with Lucie in his head down to the last detail because he knew he couldn’t see her now. He wouldn’t be able to keep his composed attitude knowing he wouldn’t see her again. Carton tried to relax during his last night but he was constantly moving, not able to stay still. Concentration was an unrealistic goal for him that night. He relied on the drink to calm him as much as it could and keep his mind off of the dreaded Fate he had been dealt. He thought about Stryver and how the law firm would do without Carton there to complete the work. Carton let out a small laugh at the thought of standing up to Stryver as one of his final acts. Carton looked down on his empty glass and weighed the pros and cons of pouring himself another. Who was he kidding, there were no negatives, and why stop now? He began to pour the precious liquid into his cup. Half way through he stopped, threw back the shot, and grabbed the bottle to use as his ‘glass’.
He never saw the bottle empty. Carton had underestimated the depressant aspect of the alcohol and had regrettably drank past his limits. Carton never woke in time to make it to Barsad. Barsad sat quietly outside of the secret entrance to Darnay’s cell. He thought to himself that Carton had changed his mind about the switch, and couldn’t blame him. Barsad looked out to the street to see Lucie standing in the same spot as she always had in the vain hope that Darnay would see her one last time. He couldn’t understand how people could do so much for eachother, but then again he never had experienced love in the first place. Barsad looked around one more time for Carton to stumble to the agreed meeting place. He shrugged as there was no sight of him and walked away.
Meanwhile, Darnay was being led to the bottom of the prison to be moved to the square. He reflected briefly on his life and gladly accounted for the lack of regrets. Sure, he was upset and afraid of the end of his life, but he accepted the fact and thought to die with dignity. He could hear the crowd in the distance as he approached his final destination. As he walked in, Darnay kept his vision narrow and straight ahead. He never once averted his eyes from the gleam of the dreaded Guillotine. He let out a sigh and thought of the irony of how the aristocrats had used this device to put lower class citizens in their place, and now those same citizens were using it on the aristocrats. Walking up the small wooden steps to the platform where the executioner stood, Darnay showed his first acknowledgement of the crowd who cheered for his death. His gaze fell on Lucie and stayed there as he was forced to his knees and was held with his head over a basket. He faintly heard the executioner read Darnay’s charges to the crowd. He didn’t even understand what half of the charges were, but it was too late for that to matter. Lucie was crying but Darnay knew he was showing no emotion. It was hard to place a specific emotion on his situation so he decided to remain neutral. As he heard the Guillotine creak, he felt a sharp pain...and then nothing. There was only darkness. Darnay felt his consciousness fade away as he thought of Lucie and the first time he had seen her. That ray of light. His ray of light.

Nick said...

I enjoyed the first quarter of this course and I am excited for the new books we will be reading. I liked how we had many options for projects, and would love to see that stay.

R Davis said...

Tale of Two Cities Alternative Ending: PART 1

The living dead of Paris marched to their graves. They were living in their breaths and motions but dead in their faces and souls. There was no more living for them and all they had left was to lie in their graves for a thousand eternities. These poor souls marched towards what may have been the pearly gates of heaven or the iron gates of hell. It mattered not, their souls were so hollowed that it mattered not. To these dying lives, both gates were polished with blood.
The “living” souls, which resonated more with the demons of hell than with mankind, danced around the gates screaming and shouting. They danced waiting for the blood of the poor souls to trickle down the jaws of the gates. They wanted blood, they craved it, they needed it, and they writhed in ecstasy at the thought of it. There may have been a few in the crowd who fought the cravings, but they soon gave in and joined in the jubilation.
The marching and the dancing were cut short by the fires of hell. The gates began to ignite as the flames of hell collapsed in on themselves. The gates began to shiver and crackle as they were torn to pieces by the fire. The poor souls were shocked and stood still while the beasts took up their dancing and screaming once more, much louder than before.
The beasts pounced onto the gates, throwing whatever they could to douse the flames, which slowly engulfed everything thrown at the gates was slowly engulfed in the flames. The living panicked, and the dying began to realize that the flames were not the flames of hell but the wrath of God. God had reached down and touched the earth to destroy this unfortunate excuse of a gate. For the faux gates present in front of them were not constructed by the Lord, but by man. The Lord does not appreciate the mocking of his name.
The dying scattered, some found shelter in the crowd under cloak, some in the buildings surrounding, and some were found and killed by the beasts. The beasts were quick to move, faster than the dying. The beasts began to hunt and tear and consume their coveted elixir. The dying ran and cried and hid. A great tempest ensued, now ignoring the flames of God that ground the gates into ash, all the bodies of Paris were in motion, and there was no time to stop.
The first true words spoken in this event were heard by few, and were directed towards even less. One figure stood motionless in an alley concealed by peace, untouched by the blood of the dying or the claws of the beasts. The figure held up a hand and called to and adjacent dying, “Stop, Sydney.” The figure spoke with a calm and yet shaky voice. “Sydney I said stop,” the figure spoke quieter this time and began to shake violently, “I said, Stop, Sydney!” Finally reaching his target with a piercing scream. The dying man, much like the figure, stopped and looked over.
“Charles, is that really you Charles? What are you doing Charles… You should be half way to England by now.” The dying was shocked, confused, and scared.
“What do you think you’re doing, Sydney?” Completely oblivious to the previous question, the figure took a step closer.
Almost jokingly, “Why, I am running. Um… What, may I ask, are you doing?” The dying looked around to make sure they continued to uninterrupted.
Remaining fixated onto his target, “I was looking for you,” a smile crept onto his face, a dark smile, “come with me Sydney, I’ll get you out of this hell.”

R Davis said...

Alternative Ending: PART 2!!!!!

With a pause that seemed to be an eternity upon itself, “Of course Charles, of course…” The dying whispered, as he followed the figure out of the untouched alley. The figure walked in a straight line, and every couple paces he shook. Alternatively, the dying walked in a wandering manner and glanced around every couple paces. The two walked through the streets avoiding the tempest. The blood of the dying covered the streets and acted like a warning to those still running. This warning allowed the two to successful avoid the tempest.
After some amount of running and walking and sneaking, the two arrived at a familiar residence, seemingly abandoned, but nonetheless familiar. They entered and the figure continued on his straight path into an adjacent room and came out with a shiny tool in his hand. A cold tool and a surprising tool, the confused dying stood motionless as the figure approached him. The pace was fast but his steps echoed throughout the house. The house began to creek and moan as the two drew near each other. The dying shuddered from the echo and stepped back. The figure silently raised his tool. The echoes seized and alongside a golden flash and a red scream the tool dropped down from the sky and a golden haired doll dropped to the ground. There was another red scream, and two gasps. A red haired woman stepped out of a room. She held up a bony finger and pointed to the figure. Her red hair began to burn, much like the wrath of God, and she charged the figure. Another body dropped to the ground. The figure stooped over, and began to scream. His wailing continued for some time as the dying backed against a wall and joined him. The two crumbled and shattered like glass. The figure scrambled over to the doll and screamed out, “Why! Why are you here!” He cradled her head in his arms, still holding his cold tool. He shattered once more and whispered the words again. The dying grabbed his chest as the tears flowed from his face. The frail voice of the dying exclaimed, “Charles, what did you do?”
“No… No, this isn’t my fault… You… It’s your fault!” The figure stood up abruptly and the doll dropped to the ground once more, this time with an audible and hollow thud.
The dying ones eyes began to inflate and he crying began to somewhat subside, he once again took to running, out the door and towards away. The voice of the figure was behind him, and it was getting closer. The two seemed to forget the beasts, which were stalking the streets of Paris. The two were quick to be recognized. The beasts craved for blood and had begun to call out all those who appeared to be prey. The dying had become blind with the returning tears and the firry gates welcomed him kindly. The figure was not so lucky, for his tears did not return. What did return to the figure was fear, fear of the beasts that stalked him. The tempest engulfed the figure and left nothing behind.