Death of a Salesman Reflection

Paige Trutna
English 2
Death of a Salesman

I think that Death of a Salesman represented the American Dream very well. It really helped me understand the concepts involved with the Dream and how it may fail sometimes. Just like Willy and even Biff, we can work really hard, and it may not always pay off in the way we want it to. Willy worked his whole life to be a successful salesman because he thought it would be the best job ever, but when it came down to it, he didn’t get everything he wanted, and that might be the same for us.

I also think it illustrates the human need for acceptance very well. Because of our human nature and instinct, we feel a longing for acceptance. We think we are worthless if we don’t belong to a group or with other people. If we don’t fulfill this longing, then we feel a sense of emptiness in us. We want to be surrounded by others because it gives us a sense that we’ve accomplished enough to be liked by other people. Sometimes, we are confident that we have succeeded in acquiring this position, than other times we aren’t sure how people feel about us.

I think the ending of this book is predictable (given the title Death of a Salesman) but it is very well written. Even though we don’t get many details involving the car or what Willy exactly did with the car, but we know that he didn’t think he achieved what he should’ve. He wanted to die a salesman’s death, and maybe when he figured out that he could never have that, he just decided to give up. I think the author also made us feel for Willy, which just made his death 100x sadder.

Of Mice and Men: Reflection

I thought that this book had many aspects that could help us understand a variety of concepts, especially the American Dream. All the characters and quotes really helped me understand what if would truly be like to live in that time period and try to survive and thrive off of what little I would have. I think that the variety of characters helped me realize the variety of perspectives there were in that time. Your role in society and the American Dream really influenced who you were and how much you impacted people.

I think one of the most prominent examples of what it took to be successful was George. He could’ve had almost anything he wanted, but he chose to stay with Lennie. I think this represents the American Dream very well. The Dream is more likely to be achieved if you have someone with you, someone to help you.

Another character that represents the American Dream well is Lennie. I think that the way he does this is that he never stops dreaming. He is always talking about what he wants to do with his life, and even if George says it’s not going to happen, he never gives up on the Dream.

For me personally, the ending of the book was surprising yet predictable. I knew from the beginning of the book that Lennie was probably going to die or get very hurt, I just wasn’t sure how. When John Steinbeck made George’s character kill off Lennie’s, I was surprised. I was also kind of confused. How could someone go from spending years with his best friend, looking out for each other, to killing him just because of one incident. I know that even if my friend did something like that, I would be unable to hurt them.

The Book’s Predictions

Parker was walking home when he felt himself fall forward onto the pavement. At first he thought he had just tripped over air like a klutz, but then he felt the throbbing pain in his foot. There was no way air could’ve done that. He looked behind him and say an old, beat up book on the ground. The book had a gold binding, but that wasn’t what stood out. What stood out was his name, Parker Allen, in bold, black letters on the front cover. He had no idea why his name was on the cover, but he was determined to find out. However, he knew that reading the book wouldn’t end well for him. He wanted to walk away, but he felt an irresistible urge pulling him towards his new find. He bent down and picked it up, completely unaware that he was disrupting traffic. He faintly heard honks around him, and the wind from cars passing by flew next to him, ruffling his hair in the breeze, but he didn’t care. He opened the book, blew off the dust, and began to read.

“August 13, 2000 was the most important day in history,” the book said.

“That’s my birthday,” Parker thought. He wondered what else could’ve happened that day. He continued reading.

“This was the day Parker Allen was born. Allen was majorly influential in the lives of others, and died a incredibly brave death. This is the story of his life.”

“Died a brave death? Is this book from the future or something?” Parker muttered to himself. He wanted to stop reading right then and there, but it was almost like the words were speaking to him. He continued the book, and suddenly he was reading about his birth, his first day of school, all his birthdays and parties, his first day of high school, his first dance, and all these monumental moments. As he continued to read, he began to feel more and more like he was connected to the book, and he couldn’t get away. He felt his heart beating along with the rhythm of the words, like they were calling him.

In an instant, he came across a story that intrigued him.

“Allen tripped and fell on the sidewalk on February 22, and found a book that changed his life forever.”

Parker looked at the book, shocked, when he realized that the pressure on his left hand was a lot more than on his right. He noticed there was only about 10 pages left in the book, which was the equivalent to about one night. He recalled that the beginning of the book said he was going to die a brave death. What was he going to do?

Parker decided that if he was going to die tonight, he wanted to know how to possibly prevent it. He stared intently at the book, figuring out that he would eventually turn into an alley, and something, or someone, would shove out of the alley. Simple as that. He just had to keep going straight, and not turn into an alley…ever. He started sprinting home, and he didn’t stop until he was nearly there and had to take a breath. He saw a car darting straight at him, and instinctively dove into the nearest alleyway. He kneeled on the ground, wheezing and coughing.

He realized his mistake only when he saw a hooded figure in the shadows. The figure was wearing all black, or at least that’s what it looked like right now. He saw a one-shot pistol in the man’s left hand.
Parker remembered what the book said about his death, and there definitely wasn’t a person involved. Maybe this wasn’t it. Maybe the book was wrong. He saw the man pull out a one-shot pistol and started running away, praying the book was, in fact, wrong.

He looked back and saw the man sprinting after him. He kept running, refusing to look back again. He heard footsteps behind him, but he didn’t hear the man cocking the gun or trying to take any kind of shot. Maybe that’s because it was a one-shot. His pursuer couldn’t miss, or everything would be over. Parker grabbed his phone out of his pocket, and dialed 911.

“Help—-man chasing me—–has a gun—–87th and Y Street,” he gasped, barely able to talk because he’d been running so much.
Suddenly he heard the sound of metal clanking against itself- the unmistakable cock of a gun. He ran faster, faster, faster, and faster, until he heard the footsteps behind him fade. He took a chance and slowed down, and looked behind him. He saw the hooded man, and was ready to turn and run again, when the man started talking in a robotic monotone. He was unmistakably smiling behind the hood.

“Congratulations, Parker. You’ve defeated the book. At least for now. You will be faced with many different challenges in order for you to survive. These challenges will show up in the book, and you have to figure out how to defeat them. These challenges might not make sense, they might be random, and they might confuse you, but you must defeat them anyway. It does not matter how you survive, but surviving is the only priority.”

Parker turned to the end of the book, and saw words starting to form in the back of the book.

“Parker Allen outran the man in the black hood, but was unable to outrun the mountain lion that chased him down the street and into the forest,” the book said next. Parker scanned the area around him, looking around for any mountain lions that may have been lurking in the shadows. He didn’t see anything, but he felt a sudden searing pain on the back of his leg.

Slowly, he looked back behind him, and down at his leg, and saw a 4 inch gash with blood flowing out of it. His eyes moved from the wound to a large mountain lion behind him, circling him. He recalled what the book said, and realized that if he had any chance of survival, he had to get past this mountain lion first. He stared down the lion, knowing that if he tried to run away, it wouldn’t end well. He tried to run through his options in his head, but his mind was scrambled, so he did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed a rock that was near him, hoping to hit the perfect spot on the lion. He threw the rock with all his strength, and watched as it hit the mountain lion in the head, almost in slow motion.

The lion fell to the ground, and Parker ran away, his mind still whirling with what had just happened. He sprinted further into the forest, watching the book to see what was going to happen.

“Allen outran the lion, but he was unable to dodge the tree branch that fell on him, taking his life,” the writing formed.

Parker immediately looked up, his head darting around, looking for any sign that a branch was about to break. He didn’t see or hear anything, so he kept walking cautiously. After a few minutes in which he moved no more than 10 yards, he heard a cracking noise above him.

That was when he had a moment in which he decided he was done with the book and its games. He took off running through the forest, straight to his house. He looked at the back of the book, and didn’t see any writing on it. He opened the door to his house, slammed it shut, and ran straight to his room. He sighed deeply, and looked in the back of the book one more time for good measure. Nothing.

He sighed in relief, and looked out the window at the sun shining. That was when he saw the man in the black clothes outside his house.

 

Suspense Draft

Introduction- As of this point in the writing process, I have gotten all my plot events down on pape and I know the general direction that I want to go with the story.  I had this idea one night while I was brainstorming, and I think it could be developed into quite a cool story with a little help.  I hope that this story creates a mood of suspense, and I hope that by the end, you want to know more about what happens.

 

 

Parker was walking home when he felt himself fall forward onto the pavement. At first he thought he had just tripped over air like a klutz, but then he felt the throbbing pain in his foot. There was no way air could’ve done that. He looked behind him and say an old, beat up book on the ground. The book had a gold binding, but that wasn’t what stood out. What stood out was his name, Parker Allen, in bold, black letters on the front cover. He wanted to walk away, but he felt an irresistible urge pulling him towards his new find. He bent down and picked it up, completely unaware that he was disrupting traffic. He faintly heard honks around him, and the wind from cars passing by flew next to him, ruffling his hair in the breeze, but he didn’t care. He opened the book, blew off the dust, and began to read.
“August 13, 2000 was the most important day in history,” the book said.
“That’s my birthday,” Parker thought. He wondered what else could’ve happened that day. He continued reading.
“This was the day Parker Allen was born. Allen was very influential in the lives of others, and died a very brave death. This is the story of his life.”
“Died a brave death? Is this book from the future or something?,” Parker muttered to himself. He wanted to stop reading right then and there, but it was almost like the words were speaking to him. He continued the book, and suddenly he was reading about his birth, his first day of school, all his birthdays and parties, his first day of high school, his first dance, and all these monumental moments.

In an instant, he came across a story that intrigued him.
“Allen tripped and fell on the sidewalk on February 22, and found a book that changed his life forever.”
Parker looked at the book, shocked, when he realized that the pressure on his left hand was a lot more than on his right. He noticed there was only about 10 pages left in the book, which was the equivalent to about one night. He recalled that the beginning of the book said he was going to die a brave death. What was he going to do?
Parker decided that if he was going to die tonight, he wanted to know how to possibly prevent it. He stared intently at the book, figuring out that he would eventually turn into an alley. Simple as that. He just had to keep going straight, and not turn into an alley…ever. He started sprinting home, and he didn’t stop until he was nearly there and had to take a breath. He saw a car darting straight at him, and instinctively dove into the nearest alleyway. He kneeled on the ground, wheezing and coughing.
He realized his mistake only when he saw a hooded figure in the shadows. The figure was wearing all black, or at least that’s what it looked like right now. He saw a one-shot pistol in the man’s left hand.
Parker remembered what the book said about his death, and there definitely wasn’t a person involved. Maybe this wasn’t it. Maybe the book was wrong. He saw the man pull out a one-shot pistol and started running away, praying the book was, in fact, wrong.
He looked back and saw the man sprinting after him. He kept running, refusing to look back again. He heard footsteps behind him, but he didn’t hear the man cocking the gun or trying to take any kind of shot. Maybe that’s because it was a one-shot. His pursuer couldn’t miss, or everything would be over. Parker grabbed his phone out of his pocket, and dialed 911.
“Help—-man chasing me—–has a gun—–87th and Y Street,” he gasped, barely able to get sound out because he’d been running so much.
Suddenly he heard the sound of metal clanking against itself- the unmistakable cock of a gun. He ran faster, faster, faster, and faster, until he heard the footsteps behind him fade. He took a chance and slowed down, and looked behind him. He saw the hooded man, and was ready to turn and run again, when the man started talking in a robotic monotone. He was unmistakably smiling behind the hood.
“Congratulations, Parker. You’ve defeated the book.” Then he walked away.