The ending of Skippy Dies is definitely not something you could have predicted 100 pages before it happened. Honestly, reading the book I never thought about it ending. It was a long book, that not so much told a story but told many stories, including all the normal days that happened in-between them. For me, reading this book (something I haven't done since last school year) reminded me why I like (or rather 'used to like') reading so much. Murray is an excellent, intelligent writer. But anyway about the ending!
Carl, the degenerate, was driven mad by his guilt and was seeing the dead boy, Skippy, everywhere. Reuprecht, Skippy's overweight scientist roommate, stress-ate and desperately tried to communicate to Skippy with increasingly insane experiments. Lori, Skippy's girlfriend, was also feeling guilty as she cheated on Skippy. She started taking diet pills and eventually had to be sent to a clinic as she was too sick to even stand. Everybody at Seabrook thinks Skippy was molested by Father Green before he died (even though, while very tempted to, he didn't). Carl, while on Heroin, is told by Skippy that he has to kill the "final demon", which Carl interprets to be the priest. Carl goes to the school and sets fire to Father Green's office, killing him. Carl eventually realizes that the demon is himself, and so he lays down in the smoke to die. However, he is rescued by the history teacher Howard Fallon. Reuprecht, who had recently ruined a school concert by trying to send an extremely loud musical message to Skippy, visits Lori. Reuprecht is planning on running away to Stanford, and Lori is planning on committing suicide. They have a long conversation, Lori talking Reuprecht out of moving away, and in that convincing her not to take her own life. Reuprecht leaves his box of stress-eating donuts behind, and Lori starts eating them.
The message that came out for me in the entire third part (called Ghostland, taking place after Skippy's death) is that you cannot run away from the past. All of the students and faculty at Seabrook experienced this after Skippy died. While everybody else tried to cover it up, Howard was the only one who would deal with it. And yet, Howard was dealing with another form of running away. His relationships would immediately get boring because he was always looking for someone who would take him somewhere better; he didn't want his girlfriends to be just as bored as he was. This kind of running away, I think, is the moral of the book. Life's not going to be as good as anybody hoped, and it'll get no better elsewhere (well, said in a less depressing way).
Saturday, August 23, 2014
Friday, August 22, 2014
Prompt 9- Week 8 Novel Prompt
An object of symbolism I noticed in the novel Skippy Dies by Paul Murray, is the first World War. For the entire book, Howard the history teacher has been dwelling on this subject. Before Skippy's death, it was to remember Auriele, the substitute geography teacher he was in love with before she went away on a cruise with her fiancé. Now, it's to hold on to Skippy's memory, as his great-grandfather fought in the war. Howard finds it hard to let go of the past, as illustrated in this passage:
"But Guido did not live with it. Guido moved forward. He wasn't about to let one fleeting episode determine the whole trajectory of his life thereafter. For Guido the past, like a Third Word country, was merely another resource to be exploited and abandoned when the time comes; and that is why civilization is built by men like him and the Automator, and not men like Howard, who have never quite worked out which stories are disposable, and which, if any, you're actually supposed to believe." (Skippy Dies, p. 574-575)
After Skippy's death, the school's students became despondent. The school's officials had tried to sweep his death under the mat (as it was uncovered that Skippy's swim coach gave him pain killers and molested him), and the students were all trying to forget in vain. Howard is sickened by the teachers encouraging forgetting Skippy, saying that the students would not be acting up if they could just take some time to remember him. Nobody listens to this. One day, Howard feels suffocated in his classroom, and takes his entire class on a spur of the moment field trip. The minute they are outside the grasp of the school, Howard detects a noticeable change in the students.
"Still, as they hang there in the weak, cloud-filtered light, shuffling a little, waiting for him to tell them what to do, they appear different to their everyday school selves -- younger, less cynical, lighter even, as if Seabrook were a weight that they carried, and set free of it they might just float off into the air..." (Skippy Dies, p. 551)
Their surprise field trip leads them into a memorial park, built to remember the Irish soldiers who went off to fight in WW1. However, because of the tragic nature of their deaths, they were, like Skippy, deliberately forgotten. Howard is aware of the dead soldiers being symbolic of Skippy, and gives his students a great speech about remembering, and how that even when the soldiers realized the grand and heroic stories of battle were all lies, their bond of friendship remained.
"That they stayed friends, that they looked out for each other, most agreed, was what kept them from cracking up altogether. And in the end was the only thing, was the one true thing, that was genuinely worth fighting for.'
He smiles summative at the boys; they gaze mutely back at him, in their grey uniforms for all the world like an incorporeal platoon, materialized out of the winter clouds to scour the bare park for someone who has not forgotten them." (Skippy Dies, p. 557)
"But Guido did not live with it. Guido moved forward. He wasn't about to let one fleeting episode determine the whole trajectory of his life thereafter. For Guido the past, like a Third Word country, was merely another resource to be exploited and abandoned when the time comes; and that is why civilization is built by men like him and the Automator, and not men like Howard, who have never quite worked out which stories are disposable, and which, if any, you're actually supposed to believe." (Skippy Dies, p. 574-575)
After Skippy's death, the school's students became despondent. The school's officials had tried to sweep his death under the mat (as it was uncovered that Skippy's swim coach gave him pain killers and molested him), and the students were all trying to forget in vain. Howard is sickened by the teachers encouraging forgetting Skippy, saying that the students would not be acting up if they could just take some time to remember him. Nobody listens to this. One day, Howard feels suffocated in his classroom, and takes his entire class on a spur of the moment field trip. The minute they are outside the grasp of the school, Howard detects a noticeable change in the students.
"Still, as they hang there in the weak, cloud-filtered light, shuffling a little, waiting for him to tell them what to do, they appear different to their everyday school selves -- younger, less cynical, lighter even, as if Seabrook were a weight that they carried, and set free of it they might just float off into the air..." (Skippy Dies, p. 551)
Their surprise field trip leads them into a memorial park, built to remember the Irish soldiers who went off to fight in WW1. However, because of the tragic nature of their deaths, they were, like Skippy, deliberately forgotten. Howard is aware of the dead soldiers being symbolic of Skippy, and gives his students a great speech about remembering, and how that even when the soldiers realized the grand and heroic stories of battle were all lies, their bond of friendship remained.
"That they stayed friends, that they looked out for each other, most agreed, was what kept them from cracking up altogether. And in the end was the only thing, was the one true thing, that was genuinely worth fighting for.'
He smiles summative at the boys; they gaze mutely back at him, in their grey uniforms for all the world like an incorporeal platoon, materialized out of the winter clouds to scour the bare park for someone who has not forgotten them." (Skippy Dies, p. 557)
Prompt 8- Week 8 Poetry Prompt
The first theme that comes to my mind when reading this poem is the waiting. Throughout the entire poem, Levine is waiting hours for something that he will never get. Maybe he relates this to life, how sometimes it just seems like you're wasting time going after nothing. In the waiting, Levine begins to miss his brother, and thinks about how long it's been since the two have talked. In the last lines of the poem, he says that to show love to your brother is work. For me, work has a bit of a double-meaning in this poem. For one thing, to work is not to wait. To work is not to spend your days mindlessly shuffling around hoping things will get better. As for the second, to work is to not take your family, friends, and relationships for granted. When the rain falls, which I guess would mean when bad things happen, Levine realizes just how much he wants to see his brother, to tell him that he loves him. To express that affection, according to Levine, is work. Overall, the message I get from this poem is to take life into your own hands. Don't just go through your regular routine or wait around every day, just hoping things will get better. Keep your friends and families close, because you'll never know when tragic things happen, and you'll need them. Do work.
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Prompt 7- Week 7 Poetry Prompt
For me, this poem paid tribute to Whitman in two ways. The first way is it's content. For the last two-thirds of the poem, Ginsberg walks with Whitman, and treats him like a father, a teacher, and a role model. And yet, somehow this poem also adds insults to Whitman's name. A childless, lonely old grubber, Ginsberg wrote. It could be that he respected Whitman so much that he wasn't afraid to add playful insults to his description. Or perhaps it's the complete opposite, who knows? The last four lines of this poem show the most admiration for Whitman:
"Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher, what America
did you have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you got out on
a smoking bank and stood watching the boat disappear on the black
waters of Lethe?" (A Supermarket in California, lines 13-16)
The second way Ginsberg pays tribute to Whitman is in this poetry's style. Like Whitman's, it has a unique kind of flow to it; it naturally rambles. Time is not wasted counting syllables or rhyming. That's not to say that this poem was written in a rush, it probably wasn't, it just has a bit more freedom than say, the Elizabethan poems.
"Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher, what America
did you have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you got out on
a smoking bank and stood watching the boat disappear on the black
waters of Lethe?" (A Supermarket in California, lines 13-16)
The second way Ginsberg pays tribute to Whitman is in this poetry's style. Like Whitman's, it has a unique kind of flow to it; it naturally rambles. Time is not wasted counting syllables or rhyming. That's not to say that this poem was written in a rush, it probably wasn't, it just has a bit more freedom than say, the Elizabethan poems.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Prompt 6- Week 4 Novel Prompt
Skippy anxiously awaits his first official date with Lori, focusing on nothing else except his daydreams of how it will go. One day, he finds a crowd of people around his locker-- it is on fire. Skippy knows that this is Carl, a dangerous, troubled individual who also happens to like Lori. All his friends now warn him that he cannot go to Lori's, but Skippy is adamant. Against all reason, he challenges Carl to a fight after school. Before the fight, Skippy gets a call from Lori imploring him to stop this. Skippy promises not to fight, through crossed fingers. At the place they arranged to fight, people's belief in Skippy dwindles-- there is no way a young, diminutive kid can fairly fight against a hulk like Carl. When Carl does show up and they start fighting, Carl's phone rings. He answers it, talks a bit in a low voice, and looks sour as he hangs up. The two resume the fight, and after Skippy lands one punch to the jaw, Carl goes down. Skippy's friends immediately whisk him away to his date with Lori.
There were a lot of important points in this chapter, where the plot took an interesting turn. When the dreamlike-excitement for Skippy's date turned into stubborn indignation when Carl lit his locker on fire. Between Skippy's challenge and the actual fight, people treated him like a dead man walking, all the while shocked that such a challenge was even made.
"All through class, faces keep flicking back to Skippy, scrutinizing him like he's a ten-foot lizard sitting there at the desk; and the day, which had been going so torturously slowly, begins to hurtle, as if time itself were panting to view the fight. Skippy tries to grasp on to the teachers' lessons, if only to slow things down. But it's as if the words themselves know they are not intended for him and pass him by. This must be what it's like being dead, haunting the living, he thinks. Like everything is made of glass, too slippery to hold on to, so that you feel like you're falling just standing still." (Skippy Dies, p.354)
And then, after the fight itself, Skippy was once again overjoyed and excited.
"And ten minutes later -- hair tamed, teeth brushed, irremediably shredded school jumper exchanged for a clean hoodie -- Skippy's leaving it again, pedaling Niall's bike uphill towards the gate. The rain has cleared and the clouds given way to a sunset that blushes deep and fiery, lush pinks and warm reds piled on top of each other in a breathy rushed jumble like a heart in love; and as he weaves out weightlessly into the traffic, leaving their final words of advice -- 'Full hardcore sex!' 'Just don't puke on her!' -- to disappear into the evening, the euphoria blossoms inside him at last, and with every yard travelled, continues, star-like, to grow." (Skippy Dies, p.361)
I have a theory about the phone call Carl received. I think Lori called Carl to tell him to throw the fight. It may be a pessimistic view of it, but there is just no way an author willing to write about drug-dealing and intense violence in detail would make a fairy-tale ending to a fight. After all, Skippy dies! It's a little bit of a longshot for me to believe. The fact that Skippy even challenged Carl is unbelievable. Paul Murray related this to a poem by Robert Frost about following the road less traveled, which is exactly what Skippy did when he challenged Carl.
Reading this chapter more deeply really brought out what I love in this book. It has a great vocabulary, which may seem like an arbitrary thing, but turns the dull colors of a hackneyed metaphor vibrant. It's as if the same idea when used with different words brings new life to it. When looking closer at this book, you can see that there are so many great descriptive and thoughtful sentences. Paul Murray is getting the most mileage he can out of each sentence, and he's clearly mastered this without making them sound too wordy. The tone of the analogies also changes with the mood of the character. The two passages above are the same in their complexity, but so very different in the feeling they express.
There were a lot of important points in this chapter, where the plot took an interesting turn. When the dreamlike-excitement for Skippy's date turned into stubborn indignation when Carl lit his locker on fire. Between Skippy's challenge and the actual fight, people treated him like a dead man walking, all the while shocked that such a challenge was even made.
"All through class, faces keep flicking back to Skippy, scrutinizing him like he's a ten-foot lizard sitting there at the desk; and the day, which had been going so torturously slowly, begins to hurtle, as if time itself were panting to view the fight. Skippy tries to grasp on to the teachers' lessons, if only to slow things down. But it's as if the words themselves know they are not intended for him and pass him by. This must be what it's like being dead, haunting the living, he thinks. Like everything is made of glass, too slippery to hold on to, so that you feel like you're falling just standing still." (Skippy Dies, p.354)
And then, after the fight itself, Skippy was once again overjoyed and excited.
"And ten minutes later -- hair tamed, teeth brushed, irremediably shredded school jumper exchanged for a clean hoodie -- Skippy's leaving it again, pedaling Niall's bike uphill towards the gate. The rain has cleared and the clouds given way to a sunset that blushes deep and fiery, lush pinks and warm reds piled on top of each other in a breathy rushed jumble like a heart in love; and as he weaves out weightlessly into the traffic, leaving their final words of advice -- 'Full hardcore sex!' 'Just don't puke on her!' -- to disappear into the evening, the euphoria blossoms inside him at last, and with every yard travelled, continues, star-like, to grow." (Skippy Dies, p.361)
I have a theory about the phone call Carl received. I think Lori called Carl to tell him to throw the fight. It may be a pessimistic view of it, but there is just no way an author willing to write about drug-dealing and intense violence in detail would make a fairy-tale ending to a fight. After all, Skippy dies! It's a little bit of a longshot for me to believe. The fact that Skippy even challenged Carl is unbelievable. Paul Murray related this to a poem by Robert Frost about following the road less traveled, which is exactly what Skippy did when he challenged Carl.
Reading this chapter more deeply really brought out what I love in this book. It has a great vocabulary, which may seem like an arbitrary thing, but turns the dull colors of a hackneyed metaphor vibrant. It's as if the same idea when used with different words brings new life to it. When looking closer at this book, you can see that there are so many great descriptive and thoughtful sentences. Paul Murray is getting the most mileage he can out of each sentence, and he's clearly mastered this without making them sound too wordy. The tone of the analogies also changes with the mood of the character. The two passages above are the same in their complexity, but so very different in the feeling they express.
Prompt 5- Week 3 Novel Prompt
There is a passage from page 31 through 37 that I found very interesting. It describes Howard's, a teacher and alum of Seabrook, relationship with his girlfriend Halley. I liked this passage because it was so spot-on about how most of the time seemingly fairy-tale relationships fall apart.
Before he went home, Howard stopped to talk to the substitute Geometry teacher. After talking, she out of the blue said, "You know, I'm not going to sleep with you,". This rattled Howard and made him think she really did want to sleep with him.
" 'He did.' She scans the back of the book. 'Looks interesting.'
Howard shrugs non-committally. Halley leans back against her chair, watching his eyes buzz restlessly over the counter surface.
'Why are you acting weird?'
He freezes. 'Me? I'm not acting weird.'
'You are.'
Interior pandemonium as he desperately tries to remember how he normally acts with her. 'It's just been a long day -- oh God --' groaning involuntarily as she pulls a cigarette from her shirt pocket. 'Are you going to smoke another of those things?'
'Don't start...'
'They're bad for you. You said you were going to quit.'
'What can I tell you, Howard. I'm an addict. A hopeless, pathetic addict in the thrall of the tobacco companies.' Her shoulders slump as the tip glows in ignition. 'Anyway, it's not like I'm pregnant.'
Ah, right -- this is how her normally acts with her. He remembers now. They seem to be going through a protracted phase in which they're able to speak to each other only in criticisms, needles, rebukes. Big things, little things, anything can spark an argument, even when neither of them wants to argue, even when he or she is tying to say something nice, or simply to state an innocuous fact. Their relationship is like a piece of malfunctioning equipment that when switched on will only buzz fractiously, and shocks you when you're trying to find out what's wrong. The simplest solution seems to be not to switch it on, to look instead for a new one; he is not quite ready to contemplate that eventuality, however." (Skippy Dies, p.31-32)
For the next couple pages the book alternates between dialogue between these two and Howard contemplating their relationship. But of this above selection, I especially like the faulty machine analogy. When either of the two try to find out what is wrong, the other one shoots him or her down. In the later parts of this passage, the book elaborates more on why they're always arguing. The two are both unhappy with their jobs, and take all the pent-up misery and frustration home with them. They take it out on the other, when they know that they're just as miserable as they are.
Overall, what I like about this passage is it's insight. It uses very clear language to explain to the reader what has happened to Howard's (and many other's) relationship.
Before he went home, Howard stopped to talk to the substitute Geometry teacher. After talking, she out of the blue said, "You know, I'm not going to sleep with you,". This rattled Howard and made him think she really did want to sleep with him.
" 'He did.' She scans the back of the book. 'Looks interesting.'
Howard shrugs non-committally. Halley leans back against her chair, watching his eyes buzz restlessly over the counter surface.
'Why are you acting weird?'
He freezes. 'Me? I'm not acting weird.'
'You are.'
Interior pandemonium as he desperately tries to remember how he normally acts with her. 'It's just been a long day -- oh God --' groaning involuntarily as she pulls a cigarette from her shirt pocket. 'Are you going to smoke another of those things?'
'Don't start...'
'They're bad for you. You said you were going to quit.'
'What can I tell you, Howard. I'm an addict. A hopeless, pathetic addict in the thrall of the tobacco companies.' Her shoulders slump as the tip glows in ignition. 'Anyway, it's not like I'm pregnant.'
Ah, right -- this is how her normally acts with her. He remembers now. They seem to be going through a protracted phase in which they're able to speak to each other only in criticisms, needles, rebukes. Big things, little things, anything can spark an argument, even when neither of them wants to argue, even when he or she is tying to say something nice, or simply to state an innocuous fact. Their relationship is like a piece of malfunctioning equipment that when switched on will only buzz fractiously, and shocks you when you're trying to find out what's wrong. The simplest solution seems to be not to switch it on, to look instead for a new one; he is not quite ready to contemplate that eventuality, however." (Skippy Dies, p.31-32)
For the next couple pages the book alternates between dialogue between these two and Howard contemplating their relationship. But of this above selection, I especially like the faulty machine analogy. When either of the two try to find out what is wrong, the other one shoots him or her down. In the later parts of this passage, the book elaborates more on why they're always arguing. The two are both unhappy with their jobs, and take all the pent-up misery and frustration home with them. They take it out on the other, when they know that they're just as miserable as they are.
Overall, what I like about this passage is it's insight. It uses very clear language to explain to the reader what has happened to Howard's (and many other's) relationship.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
Prompt 4- Week 2 Poetry Prompt
Disclaimer: The 250 Poems: A Portable Anthology book I have is probably a different edition than the one the GS teachers use. The page numbers are off, and some of the poems that have been mentioned in the prompts do not appear in my book.
The first thing I notice about these poems is that they are mostly about one thing. Nowadays, you can find poetry written about practically anything, but it seems that in the Elizabethan period they all focused on love. There is also very consistent rhyming in all of these poems, changing up the two rhyming syllables every four lines:
"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date;
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines, ..."
(Sonnet 18, William Shakespeare)
You can notice how the rhyming does an ABAB, CDCD, etc. kind of thing. At the end of all the sonnets, though, it has two rhyming lines in a row:
"When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee."
(Sonnet 18, William Shakespeare)
Considering all Sonnets are 14 lines long, it gives them this kind of rhyming structure: ABAB CDCD EFEF GG
The line length of these poems, however, differed. For all of Shakespeare's sonnets, the lines were all ten syllables long. But for another sonnet (Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show by Sir Phillip Sidney), all of the lines were twelve syllables. What interested me is that all of the Sonnets were very rigidly structured, having 14 lines, each ten/twelve syllables long, with very strict rhyming.
I enjoyed Sonnet 18 by William Shakespeare the most, because it was the most recognizable and the easiest to understand for me.
The first thing I notice about these poems is that they are mostly about one thing. Nowadays, you can find poetry written about practically anything, but it seems that in the Elizabethan period they all focused on love. There is also very consistent rhyming in all of these poems, changing up the two rhyming syllables every four lines:
"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date;
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines, ..."
(Sonnet 18, William Shakespeare)
You can notice how the rhyming does an ABAB, CDCD, etc. kind of thing. At the end of all the sonnets, though, it has two rhyming lines in a row:
"When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee."
(Sonnet 18, William Shakespeare)
Considering all Sonnets are 14 lines long, it gives them this kind of rhyming structure: ABAB CDCD EFEF GG
The line length of these poems, however, differed. For all of Shakespeare's sonnets, the lines were all ten syllables long. But for another sonnet (Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show by Sir Phillip Sidney), all of the lines were twelve syllables. What interested me is that all of the Sonnets were very rigidly structured, having 14 lines, each ten/twelve syllables long, with very strict rhyming.
I enjoyed Sonnet 18 by William Shakespeare the most, because it was the most recognizable and the easiest to understand for me.
Monday, August 18, 2014
Prompt 3- Week 2 Novel Prompt
The conflict in Skippy Dies is immediately revealed in the book. As one might infer from the title, a person, nicknamed Skippy, dies in a donut shop. The very first chapter describes this death, but it's more like an introduction because the rest of the book flashes back to the things leading up to this event. For the first 100 pages, there really is no conflict, as the book is just setting the scene and telling stories about the people at this school. As of now I am about 300 pages into the book, and the main conflict of the book might be starting to emerge. However, the way the narrative bounces back and forth between characters makes me wonder if this conflict is a major plot point or just another anecdote, thrown in for entertainment.
Skippy is having a pretty tough life because his mom is dead (or he has some problem with his mother, the book hasn't quite said yet), and he's dependent on sleeping pills just to get through the days at his boarding school. One day, he spots a girl outside his window and immediately falls in love with her. Eventually, they kiss at a school dance, but afterward she disappears. Skippy finds out her number, but a bully, who also has a thing with this girl, knows about her and Skippy and smashes his head against a wall.
This conflict seems like it could lead to Skippy's death, but I'm not sure yet. The author goes very in depth with all of the character's backstories, and analyzes situations in life that we all go through. With all that and the switching perspectives, it's hard to keep track of a linear, neat storyline.
Skippy is having a pretty tough life because his mom is dead (or he has some problem with his mother, the book hasn't quite said yet), and he's dependent on sleeping pills just to get through the days at his boarding school. One day, he spots a girl outside his window and immediately falls in love with her. Eventually, they kiss at a school dance, but afterward she disappears. Skippy finds out her number, but a bully, who also has a thing with this girl, knows about her and Skippy and smashes his head against a wall.
This conflict seems like it could lead to Skippy's death, but I'm not sure yet. The author goes very in depth with all of the character's backstories, and analyzes situations in life that we all go through. With all that and the switching perspectives, it's hard to keep track of a linear, neat storyline.
Prompt 2- Week 1 Novel Prompt
An interesting character in the novel Skippy Dies by Paul Murray is Father Jerome Green. He is the French teacher at Seabrook College in Ireland, where he is known for having an air of dread around him.
"Father Jerome Green: teacher of French, coordinator of Seabrook's charitable works, and by some stretch the school's most terrifying personage. Wherever he goes it is with two or three bodies' worth of empty space around him, as if he's accompanied by an invisible retinue of pitchfork-wielding goblins, ready to jab at anyone who happens to be harboring an impure thought. As he passes, Howard musters a weak smile; the priest glares back at him he same way he does at everyone, with a kind of ready, impersonal disapproval, so adept at looking into a man's soul and seeing sin, desire, ferment that he does it now like ticking a box." (p. 12-13)
Among the students, and even some faculty at Seabrook, Father Green is like the Grim Reaper: tall, thin, dressed in black, and having little to no kindness in him. He punishes students very severely and tries to scare them into being more devout. Paul Murray always uses very descriptive and metaphoric
language when writing about him, especially with his movement. He has been described as smoke, knife-like, a pen stroke, and other dark, harsh things. In his classes, he is like a time-bomb about to explode on any given student.
Overall, what Father Green wants is to teach people that God is not easy-going, and that lazy and spoiled people will be punished with eternal damnation.
"Father Jerome Green: teacher of French, coordinator of Seabrook's charitable works, and by some stretch the school's most terrifying personage. Wherever he goes it is with two or three bodies' worth of empty space around him, as if he's accompanied by an invisible retinue of pitchfork-wielding goblins, ready to jab at anyone who happens to be harboring an impure thought. As he passes, Howard musters a weak smile; the priest glares back at him he same way he does at everyone, with a kind of ready, impersonal disapproval, so adept at looking into a man's soul and seeing sin, desire, ferment that he does it now like ticking a box." (p. 12-13)
Among the students, and even some faculty at Seabrook, Father Green is like the Grim Reaper: tall, thin, dressed in black, and having little to no kindness in him. He punishes students very severely and tries to scare them into being more devout. Paul Murray always uses very descriptive and metaphoric
language when writing about him, especially with his movement. He has been described as smoke, knife-like, a pen stroke, and other dark, harsh things. In his classes, he is like a time-bomb about to explode on any given student.
Overall, what Father Green wants is to teach people that God is not easy-going, and that lazy and spoiled people will be punished with eternal damnation.
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