Literary Devices: A Tale of Two Cities

Allusion

“He added, in a jesting way, that perhaps George Washington might gain almost as great a name in history as George the Third.”

(80)

Antithesis

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way”

(13)

Personification

“There was a steaming mist in all the hollows, and it had roamed in its forlornness up the hill, like an evil spirit, seeking rest and finding none.”

(16)

Imagery

“The wine was red wine, and had stained the ground of the narrow street in the suburb of Saint Antoine, in Paris, where it was spilled.”

(37)

This image of wine will foreshadow the eventual violence and gory of the revolution.

Allieration
“Not a word was spoken, not a sound was made.  She stood, like a spirit, beside him…”

(51)

Repetition

“Kiss me, kiss me! O my dear, my dear!”

(53)

Simile

“His cold white head mingled with her radiant hair, which warmed and lighted it as though it were the light of Freedom shining on him.”

(53)

Metaphor

“of the rest and silence into which the storm called Life must hush at last…”

(54)

Foreshadowing

“The beach was a desert of heaps of sea and stones tumbling wildly about, and the sea did what it liked, and what it liked was destruction.  It thundered at the town, and thundered at the cliffs, and brought the coast down, madly.”

(28)

Symbolism

“‘You are right, Jacques,’…this third interchange of the Christian name was completed at the moment when Madame Defarge put her toothpick by, kept her eyebrows up, and slightly rustled in her seat.”
(42)

The name Jacques is immediately associated to a hidden scheme brewing in the background of the plot, essentially symbolizing the growing seeds of the approaching outbreak of betrayal.

Relative and Absolutely Learned

Morality, as the fundamental framework that governs the decision-making mechanisms within the individual, has an enormous effect upon the choices and outcomes, both general and specific, that he undertakes and undergoes.  More specifically, distinguishing between right and wrong establishes a basis that provides guidance in navigation through more complex issues.  Rational analysis shows that morality is developed through environmental stimuli, both external and internal, and thus is most definitely learned.  Moreover, the belief that morality is innate is, in my opinion, no more than a common misconception justified only by sentimentality.

Morality, as the supreme commander of the human guilt complex, which gives shape to the substance of conscience, is completely grounded in thought.  However, thought exists as an element of both the conscious and subconscious.  The inevitable unconscious agreement to reciprocity, the belief that symbiosis of mutualism would be most beneficial to both parties, develops over time from experience, and is the essential guiding force driving morality.  Enduring bitter hardships that naturally develop in life ensures hatred towards suffering, creating the genuine hope that this same fate will not befall others.  This causes concern for others, exemplified by considerable considerations of the desires of the receiving party, reinforcing the adherence to mutualism.  In describing this continual, involuntary task of emulating the train of thoughts and wishes of another being, we have thus illuminated the existence of our sympathetic subconsciousness, often referred to as empathy.  Morality emanates entirely from this sympathetic subconsciousness.  The important note is our having demonstrated through careful analysis that empathy is grounded entirely in thought.  A challenge to this theory often originates from the notion that some actions, particularly those with relation to morality, are entirely emotional in nature, and thus performed impulsively.  This viewpoint would then subsequently argue that as such, morality is an intrinsic property of a human.  Such a perspective neglects an important point in that emotion itself is rooted in thought, being the result of a large accumulation of mainly subconscious thought over time.  The contention that morality has existed as an emotion since birth amounts to a revisionism, employing as its primary means of justification current emotions, which as presently addressed, are accumulations of thought-experiences.  Morality is thus a transposition of thought.

To be innate, morality should demonstrate signs of inheritance in that the quality must be passed onward from one generation to the next.  Morality indeed does exhibit such properties.  This is but an illusion.  Morality only appears to be of an inherent nature since moral societies, directed by the principle of mutualism, prevent self-destruction and allow its values the ability to perpetuate by means of education of the next generation.  In weaving through time without breakage, morality provides illusions of inheritance.

Some advocates that morality is innate make the claim that morality has a nature similar to the five senses.  As the senses are absolute and generally consistent through all, this assertion implies the same to hold true for morality.  Evidently, this is not the case.  Morality is at least partly based upon personal experiences, as previously described.  They vary at least slightly.  Of course, an advocate of innate morality could to this, still then counterclaim that, like a genetic trait, morality is different in specific information but conforming in class of information, such that the property itself remains intrinsic and not developed.  Such a possibility requires the existence of several varieties of morality, a specific version featured by each individual.  Morality does not appear this type of characteristic.  It is not a classification within a set.  As such, a more plausible explanation resides in the development of morality from personal dispositions.  In summation, individual morals cumulate into a world of moral relativism, where moral standards are not absolute, and thus cannot be innate.  That is, individual beliefs are the essential influences in constructing moral standards.  Different values convert into different morals.  The common belief that killing others constitutes a violation of morals arises from a common fear of death in the public.  In other areas, one student might enjoy homework while homework might be a source of contempt for another.  In this case, the two would fundamentally disagree to the ethicalness of assignment of homework.  As demonstrated, the philosophies whereby an individual operate determine his eventual formulation of his moral standards.  Morals appear absolute only when the background philosophical agreement is unanimous in a majority.  That morality is relative rather than absolute provides evidence furthering the position that morality is entirely learned.

With these conclusions, the discussion has pointed our efforts into a new direction.  Discussing morality should take on a lower order of precedence than discussing personal ideals, for personal ideals unlock morality.  Absolute standards to morality are often employed manipulatively as a dangerous means of invoking closure in provocative debate over grey issues.  They whom attempt to frame gray into an absolute juxtaposition of black and white are the manipulators, for by doing so, they too often neglect the root causes involved and focus only upon the effects, that is, morality.  The intelligent must not be drawn into this delusional trap.

Passage of Time

Special relativity asserts that time changes with respect to changes in perspective.  Although realistic physical movement generally operates at non-relativistic velocities, this discovery incites insightful discourse upon time.  As such, the theory elucidates a discernible truth regarding the psychological effects of time.  Being a mischievous jester playing professional pranks on my life, time and duration perception becomes a source of hopelessness.  Hopelessness causes lowered confidence.  Lowered confidence causes intimidation.  Intimidation causes fear.  Thus, I fear time.

Time is nature.  Nature is ironic.  Therefore, time is ironic.  When I am flooded with a desire for furtherance of knowledge, emulation of professionals, development of expertise, time will pass too quickly and I will naturally be imposed with time constraints.  These mark the times where I attempt to work to the utmost of my abilities.  Time prevents this.  When I am disinterested for furtherance of knowledge, emulation of professionals, development of expertise, time will pass too slowly and I will naturally be free from time restrictions.  These mark the times where I resort to idleness.  Yet, time provides the freedom to explore.

Thus, time infiltrates into every element of life, mocking me from all possible angles, withdrawing when sought, collecting when futile.  Time belittles my work habits, seeking to destruct, destroy and demoralize me.  I loathe time, but yet, I fear time, for time acts as an omnipotent dictator that so often interweaves and intervenes through my life, and the lives of many others.  Life is the totalitarian state over which time maintains absolute control with an iron hand.  However, in this case, time will never become democratic.

A fear of and slavery to the wrath of time is indeed an inhibitor to success.  However, in addition to analysis, this reflection has provided a novel solution to be rid of that terrible tyranny of time: Let not time control I, but rather, let I control time.

A Tale of Opposites

In A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens immediately establishes at the onset of the novel the recurring element of contrast through the imposition of a sharp contrast as the first section of text:

 It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only (Dickens 13).

Dicken’s use of this prolonged antithesis to the extent where a paradox begins to take shape highlights the notion of binary opposites so stylistically significant to this work.  The juxtaposition of opposing ideals uncovers the idea of opposition and the clash between ideologies that will resonate throughout the narrative, whether between specific characters or social attitudes.  The utilization of this contrast as the description of setting also introduces a chaotic structure into the arena within which the elements of the novel will unfold.  In his description, Dickens utilizes diametrically different means of referring to the exact same situation such that his proximate placement of opposing ideas demonstrates that characters can view the same events with complete differences in attitude and perspective.  Perspective shifts or multiplication result in dilemma and undesired choice, conflicts that will eventually pepper the narrative.  Lastly, the description resides in the “superlative degree of comparison only” and the realm of the extreme (Dickens 13).  This extremism thus acts as foreshadowing for the French Revolution and its radicalism, a central basis of the story.  Lastly, through the employment of anaphora and parallelism, Dickens draws heightened attention to this important excerpt of text.

When Mr. Lorry receives a message in the darkness of night, he responds with the message “recalled to life” (Dickens 19).  After this first appearance, this expression is later continually echoed throughout the narrative.  This very concise message again reinforces the element of contrast so elaborately developed at the onset of the novel.  The conciseness of the expression itself is a contrast against the highly ornamented character of the introduction.  “Recalled to life” symbolizes a movement about the boundary between the darkness of death and the vibrancy of life (Dickens 19).  The line, by being a beckon to motion, conveys an origin and a destination in a set of two images, one of lively vigour and the other of lifeless dilapidation, establishing a vivid light and dark imagery.  The use of the word “recall” also emphasizes the importance of memory, and its association to the sense of richness.  Memory enriches the psychological groundwork from which the emotions of love and hate grow.  This may foreshadow that the narrative will feature many interpersonal emotions that are activated purely by the motivation of memory.

As Mr. Lorry waits in Dover, he observes the sea changing to a very thunderous state of existance:

The little narrow, crooked town of Dover hid itself away from the beach, and ran its head into the chalk cliffs, like a marine ostrich.  The beach was a desert of heaps of sea and stones tumbling wildly about, and the sea did what it liked, and what it liked was destruction.  It thundered at the town, and thundered at the cliffs, and brought the coast down, madly (Dickens 27).

The sea imagery featured again establishes the element of contrast.  However, in this case, the contrast is ordered into a sequential progression of events.  Although not explicitly described, the image of the sea theoretically develops from a calm state to a very destructive state.  A jumbled orchestral disunity gradually overtakes the silence and tranquility of the initial state, in a rising crescendo that grows with strength and might.  This development is emblematic of the shift from innocence to violence and from a pacifist atmosphere to a warlike atmosphere.  In this sense, the imagery of the sea represents a volta based upon imagery, foreshadowing sinister developments to the plot.  This foreshadowing is twofold, having both a short term and long term effect.  At its point of presentation, the narrative of the story remains very simple and undeveloped.  As such, the presence of this imagery signals the immediate development of an ominous event, which translated as Lucie Manette’s sudden realization that her father remains alive.  However, a longer term variant of foreshadowing based upon the implied movement from innocence to violence and from quiet to loud suggests the broader themes of and the forebodingness of the approaching French Revolution.  The initially peaceful state is influenced by increasing stresses and tensions, leading to the eventual eruption of revolutionary violence.  This increase in tension is further reinforced by the order of titles to the different books, “Recalled to Life”, “The Golden Thread”, and “The Track of a Storm”.

Textisms

The introduction of texting language into formal environments, although not despicable, has a general negative impact upon the nature of language.  Acceptability of these forms of speech is dependent upon domain and area of deployment.  Limited usages intended for complimenting or abbreviation of regular language for functions of speed, as in note-taking or retention techniques is indeed beneficial.  However, infiltration of this means of expression into every aspect of communication is laughable.

Formal environments themselves subdivide into more specialized categories – those based on comprehension and those not based solely on comprehension, requiring additional interpretation.  Fields in the sciences use words purely for their denotative power of distributing and explaining information, in which a general understanding of concepts is the primary matter of importance.  Replacement of text with textisms in this case could be a distinct possibility.  However, in linguistic fields, where the keys are in the words themselves, comprehension alone is not sufficient.  Meanings and interpretations are in an interdependent relationship, meanings often being functions of the words themselves.  A close attention to the textual elements, and thus, an intrinsic sense of authenticity of the work is necessary for a successful interpretation process.  Since translations and variations themselves already offer reduced meaning or sense-impression in comparison to originals, textisms would render obsolete the entire purpose of literature.

Unless textisms are forcefully assimilated into formal language, I am of the opinion that this debate will ultimately be deprived of purpose, as textisms will simply be unable to penetrate the impermeable barrier of formal language.  Textisms, at its heart, is a form of slang, being extremely personalized, non-standardized and thus, hard to comprehend.  In addition, usage of this slang seems to be entirely derivative of a basis language, again challenging its ability to take on an alternative role.  What was at first the reason driving the creation of textisms will also be the source of its demise.  Even though textisms may speed up writing, they dramatically lower the rate of comprehension in interpersonal communication.  Since textisms are too personalized to the author, recognition becomes tedious to the point of sacrificing read efficiency.  Nevertheless, computer language can be a useful educational aid, provided usage in a complimentary and not replacement role.

Lucie Manette

In A Tale of Two Cities, Lucie Manette is a young, formerly orphaned girl of seventeen years who has realized that her father may continue to be alive.  She is considerably well-off, able to support herself as well as maintain a chaperone.  Lucie is first introduced in a conspicuous yet not assertive manner that primarily emphasizes appearance and speech.  This reflects the seemingly simple external character set she possesses – evidently noticeable yet quietly introverted.  In all respects, Lucie flashes the prototypical features of the conservative Victorian girl.  Lucie demonstrates graceful elegance, respectfulness in speech and a general air of moral strictness.  Already being “a short, slight, pretty figure” (Dickens 29), she “curtseys to [others]”, “remains standing”, and chooses her actions and speech carefully, always trying “to convey to [others] how much wiser [they] [were] than she” (Dickens 30).  Although these highly formal traits appear completely out of context in modern times, they were easily understandable in the Victorian period when this book was written.  As such, Lucie took on a “perfect girl” status to the contemporary readers of the novel, a figure that the audience could not only relate to, but would gush over.  However, behind this contemporary perfectionism, Lucie conveys a sense of hidden mystery.  She employs a “singular expression” that is “pretty and characteristic”, but which “deepens itself” at the presence of thought (Dickens 30).  Additionally, she appears very collected emotionally, rarely providing reactionary responses even in emotional turmoil, exemplified when she starts instead of responding to the notion of her father’s death.  Often distant and inert, an unattainability naturally winds itself through her character.  As a result, penetration into and clearly understanding her hidden character becomes an exercise of deciphering complex codes.  In addition, her association to memories and histories, as evident in Mr. Lorry’s description that “a sudden vivid likeness passed before him, of a child whom he had held in his arms on the passage across that very Channel, one cold time” on sight of her enriches the complexity within her character (Dickens 29).  Detailed analysis does not yield revealing insights, but instead, new intriguing questions.  Lucie, whose name is derived from the Roman term lucius, meaning light, has an elusiveness that is comparable to that of light.  While for the time being, Lucie’s external character appears simple and naive, her darker internal side boasts of the potential for her development into an extremely complex character both internally and externally.  There is a foreboding atmosphere that she will become the epicenter of a major development through the narrative that will permanently change her through time.

Reorientation

I think, I act and I think again. I push myself forwards but again, I stop to think.  I go to sleep, and even then, I think.  Thinking has always been a fundamental part of me, stalking me, haunting me through days of joy, sorrow and wonder.  Such an obnoxious, persistent mindset is a wondrous asset for the free mind in times of freedom but a violently detrimental hinderer for the obstructed mind in crucial times that beg for uninterrupted efficiency.  My newly realigned goal and sole motivation is to achieve a state of absolute simpleness.  At one point, this seemed impossible for me, for I've always had a natural tendency to view the world through a holistic, analytical lens, in an attempt to fully understand the dynamics to all aspects of human society.  "Whenever a situation has the chance to complexify, it always will", I convinced myself, and thus followed my overwhelming sense of curiosity and commitment to this "everything-analysis".  I must not begin to synthesize until a complete comprehension of every aspect in minuscule detail is acquired.  Of course, this view may in theory be possible, but certainly impractical.  With this sort of quagmire of thoughts always blockading my course of action, anticipated problems unavoidably began to transpire, necessitating a thorough re-evaluation of myself.

I began, and despite my change, still am set apart from peers for my particular attention to detail.  My values of considering the entire circumstance before committing to action only forced me further into my personal corner.  Communicating with others became more and more of a challenge for fear of misrepresentation.  In the resultant strained relations, I couldn't get a read of others and others couldn't glimpse through that disguise of laughter into my inner personality - a stalemate of warring ideas, fighting to attract my attention, but all in vain.  Simultaneously, I found ambiguous homework that only opened a partial outlet of thought increasingly tedious.  They hampered my hopes of releasing my thoughts in its entirety.  In any case, these two mediums both represent opportunities by which thoughts, the inward interaction of connections could be "outwardized" and shown off.  Had my internalizations been provided with an effective and consistent means of outwardization, my distress could have been much more subdued.  Instead, failed "outwardization" caused thoughts to stay within me, igniting a combustion reaction where reactants continually renew themselves.  Communication and "outwardization" seemingly became an exercise in constipation, my system trying desperately to flush out, but the materials stubbornly and reluctantly staying in.  I wanted my thoughts to flow, yet they maintained their rigid discipline.  Soon, my rate of progression through tasks ground to a complete halt, while excessive energy progressively accumulated.  The hard times were calling for methods of greater efficiency, and the future beckoned. 

Eventually, even amidst the reluctance of my will, the times and influences induced a change in direction.  Increased exposure to literature and art marked a significant shift in perspective.  Literature unveiled and envisaged a beauty of the natural that is too often neglected or forgotten when trekking through the dangers and hardships of ordinary life.  The hardness and utilitarian nature of our full immersion into material issues, that is our regular life, too often diverts our attention from the harmonious existance of the environment around us.  I enjoyed the abstractness so deeply hidden into the roots of literary works.  Complimentarily, observing nature induced a similar desire to achieve the simpleness of mind that has become such an elusive draw of my life.  Long walks alone through the park weaved a cloak of tranquility around me.  A clear green expanse staring back at me reinforced by auras of silence and nothingness massaged away troubles and reassured me.  At once, I saw a world where simplicity dominates, rendering futile any attempts made at establishing completeness in organization.  Even science literature revealed a reduction to simplicity deeply entrenched into the fabric of nature.  Physical laws yield a richness about the texture of reality, but also explains this as arising from a remarkable simpleness in the structure of reality.  Realizing limits and constraints to even the most persistent of goals lends itself to a satisfaction based purely upon appreciating existentialism.

This abrupt change of philosophy marked a significant shift in the outlook and perspective I held towards the world.  I saw that, for the first time, my pressures were directly a consequence of my own paranoia and my, in hindsight, naively puerile notions about how an individual should best traverse the course of their lives.  This marked a revolution in my values and principles of life.  I now see the world through an incredibly different lens.  There in front of me lay a miraculous image of a world where there existed a remarkable beauty to the concise.  It came as a stunning realization to me that my previous inability to experience this new nature was one of imposed self-will.  Sometimes, life's struggles serve as a learning checkpoint, a ground for the development and implementation of new strategies.  Thus, changing personal philosophies and principles from which we operate serves an effective means by which to overcome challenges.