Flannery O'Connor was born in Savannah, in the Deep South-East of the United States in 1925. Her adolescence was marked by the death of her father, from whom she later inherited the disease, deadly enemy with whom she fought, without surrender, for a lifetime. (Ann, pp74-78) However, her childhood was marked by more or less serene moments; she was taken to be, at the age of 6 years, a minor celebrity. (Bandy, p107-17)
The story tells of the young Flannery O'Connor taught a chicken to walk backwards like! Her passion for birds does not vanish, so that, now an adult, she moved to Andalucia to raise peacocks, ducks and chickens, described and used as a model in some of her writings, as "The King of Birds." After graduating from the Peabody Laboratory School, and graduated in sociology, stayed for some time in Connecticut with Robert Fitzgerald and her wife, but never married. (Ochshorn, p113-17)
A fervent Catholic, she procured books on Catholic theology, and often gave lectures on religious and literary. Considered one of the most celebrated writers of the twentieth century American, wrote a series of 32 stories, 2 novels, and hundreds of reviews for local newspapers. Neither the disease, inherited from her father, managed to restrain her energetic life. (Jan et al. p117-28)
The Geranium
The contrast between the 'white race and the' black race, especially in context to the historical period where Flannery O'Connor lived, often returns as a redundant theme in her stories. It 'the first case of this short paper, where the motive of the geranium, sickly little flower, which slips away from the window, can be interpreted in different ways, because apparently displaced by the intertwining of the plot. (Bandy, p107-17)
It may be seen as the "collapse," the defeat of the pride of the white man, who loses faith in himself for a trivial reason, purely fueled by a racist conception of ethnic dualism: man "black" becomes a reason for hatred, intolerance, against the neighbor, only to seeing her up the stairs and for having called her the nickname "old friend" and for giving her a pat on the back. (Desmond, p129-38)
The pain had spread from the throat to the entire face, now, and brimming eyes. She crawled to the chair by the window and sat down heavily on top. She was about to burst her throat. The gorge was about to burst because of a black man, a damn Negro had given her a pat on the back and called her "old chap." (Ochshorn, p113-17)
The question seems; however, do not rely on a simple ideal racist. It is not the color of the skin to have irritated the "white" Mr. Dudley, who appreciated the company of two servants and blacks Lutisha Rabie. And 'that sense of equality, of complicity, and mutual respect help or hurt the poor pride of the old Dudley White. (Jan et al. p117-28)
Late encounter with the enemy
This is instead the story of a legendary general, who, returning from a war that not even remember, the protagonist of a story, for which she has lost any interest at all, is, at the age of one hundred and four years, the reason for living, a life that seems to not want to leave, in the continuous pursuit of success, the protagonist, the celebrities. (Desmond, p129-38)
And 'that she wants to be recognized, praised for the qualities, values, that not even remember, or perhaps have never even had, but enough to feed the lifeblood of her being, the desire to appear in the eyes of others in the splendor of her military uniform. (Ochshorn, p113-17) Nothing behind that uniform, a symbol of the changing history of patriotic value, there is nothing but the lust for fame. And 'why I still live? Live like a museum piece, a living statue, but inwardly empty, a shell, human, human to exhibit a precious shell almost like a trophy. (Jan et al. p117-28)
And what role has the feelings, fears, emotions, in this life? Perhaps the pettiest, keep in touch with reality, with the present and the past. And when the past comes back, when the memories of what we wanted to forget resurface, it's too late. The enemy of man, death, is ready to take everything. (Bandy, p107-17)
The life you save may be your
What is man to be? Even to take the life of another human being, to take possession, and leave it for mere greed. It's all a shameless deception, playing behind a poor girl, abandoned to its fate, the bank un'autogrill on a road leading away. (Ochshorn, p113-17) What was it you wanted? The mother's old car, the same that she could...
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