Book review on "The Phoenix"

 As far as the L/L writing class is concerned, after learning what a book review is and how to write it, we were assigned the writing of a book review about a book we have read on the literature subject, "The Phoenix". Here I share you mine:

  "The Phoenix" is a fantastic story written by Sylvia Townsend Warner, in 1940, who from my point of view, tries to state (in her story) some topics which truly speak about us, humans, and our exploitive relationship with nature. It is very creative, and it has a concise meaning that will surely move you. Even though the story may seem a little bit heavy at the beginning, just keep reading... it gets better!
   Moreover, the story sets place in England after a world war, where an amateur of birds chases his dream of having a phoenix (despite everyone says it´s just a mythological bird) some time later, he obtains it. He dies, moment in which, by some reasons the bird ends in the hands of the owner of the "Poldero Wizard Wonderland", Mr. Poldero. Who, after seeing the bird is not comercially attractive, abuses and tortures the bird in order to age it and cause it to burn itself into flames and die. The story ends in a surprising way, leaving you with a weighty need of changing and doing some things for the environment.
 The symbolic phoenix plays the role of our poor nature, being, as in reality, a victim of problems completely caused by us, for instance, global warming. From the other side, we got the character of Mr, Poldero, a greedy man who doesn´t doubt on damaging someone for their own sake. What, no offense, but relates perfectly to humans.
  All things considered, I completely recommend this story to you, if you like reading fantastic stories with worthy moral lessons.

How my world fell apart...

For the L/L writing class we received an assignment that consists of creating a story that integrates all the new concepts we've learnt, such as vocabulary. The story had to end with the phrase "and that was the last time I've ever saw him/her", to give us an orientation about the theme. Here is mine, you can put on this song while reading my story, it helps to get on the theme. Hope you enjoy it!!

I still can't get in touch with the idea of moving here and leaving all the people once were my whole world, I guess one of those suddenly desperate decisions my dad decides to take, like moving to a cramped town in the middle of Finland!! What an emotion!! Here I'm not me anymore, I'm covered by a filthy grey perception of life that everyday increases. I wish I didn't live in the deserted town where it always rains (it's making me feel worse), that one I swear it doesn't appear on maps, the one nobody has ever listened about. I need to talk to someone, the school psycologist is not enough. I need my friends, I've tried to socialize here but I was widely ignored. I'm sixteen now, and after living here for about two months, I can confirm my life is over, I've lost it. The darkness in which I'm stuck cannot be considered life, not with my dad working all day to escape reality, and therefore memories. It all started that day, I was standing with Marlene and Gwen, my bests friends, on the bus stop a square next to school, when my dad came in scene with our cosy red car, and now I think everyone noticed my shocked face. He only came when there was something extremely relevant I had to know. I greeted my friends without the required emphasis I would have liked if I had known it was forever. My dad did not talk, he just drove on a high speed to a filthy, shabby hospital, but at least rentable on the suburbs. I could not understand anything, my dad handed me his hand. My eyes slowly crumbled with tears, my mind being forcely filled by millons of catastrophic possibilities. My dad spoke with a nurse, I could now understand his pink cheeks after crying; he was given a key, he came and opened a door, I entered. And there my world completely fell apart. My mom!!! OH MY GOD!! I lost my breath, literally. And that, was the last time I ever saw here.

Diary entry

For the L/L writing class, we had to write a diary entry based on a poem we recently read, "My grandmother knitting" from Liz Lochhead. We supposed to be the the granny, so we talked about her feelings, wishes, needs, and more.... Well, here is my diary entry, hope you enjoy it!

Dear diary,
 I´m so damn bored on these times, nothing is as it was before, when I was allowed to knit, which was a pleasure, and a necessity in my family. And excuse me, but I´m still not used to this, I want to help, to support them in some way, as I always did. I feel so useless here, it´s like everything I want to do to bring help to my family seems unnecesary. My grandchildren have a pitty look on their eyes when they look at me. I feel like they have to bear me only because I´m the "old useless but pretty boring granny" to them. I love them with my whole heart, and that´s one of the reasons why I knit so much, as well as a necessity, it was an exposure of love on my times. But I´m old now, and I can also see how my hands (my loyal partners) have changed, what it would be an extremely depressing fact to me if I wouldn´t be afraid to die, I just want to leave good memories, anecdotes, laughters to my family. As well as help them while I can.
 But I miss so much my young pretty hands, who have passed from accompaning that tiny fishergirl, to that bride later taking care of six little blond children (whose father was a miner who worked all day, a good father though, so consequently most of their raise was made by me), to a worker woman. They have learned and experienced so much you don´t even get an idea.
 And now, they can´t stop, it´s my only way to express myself  I´m still necessary, as I´ve always been. They want me to stop, to rest, but I can´t. I´m afraid they don´t even bear me.

                                                                                                    With love,
                                                                                                                Luce