Monomania Psychology Analysis: Ideal Ego and Ego Ideal

Monomania Psychology Analysis: Ideal Ego and Ego Ideal Abstract: This paper Moby Dick: Obsession, Evil and the Passion of Ignorance, argues that monomania is a passion of ignorance. It contends that this passion of ignorance is situated precisely between the ideal ego and the ego ideal. The ideal ego is the fantasy an individual has of themselves, a narcissistic illusion of completeness. It is a representation based on an image of the self fixed at the infantile period. The ego ideal is the goal of a process, a movement towards an idealized self based on internalised significant early role models, people admired and preferred in favour of the self. In monomania, the ideal ego seeks to eradicate the other, the ego ideal. This is an act of envy, an attempt to kill and steal the others good because it represents what one should be or could have been. Such an act is never conscious. It is a passion of ignorance. The saga of Captain Ahab and his obsessive desire to obliterate the Great White Whale is illustrative of this dynamic. The yearning for absolutes is a hall-mark of monomania. Monomania is a passion of ignorance and is to be found in the boundary between love and hate. It is inherently evil because it excludes and destroys reality. In monomania, ignorance functions as a parochial and universalised concept of reality, marked by a certainty and rectitude which enables the harming of others with humanitarian conviction and moral purpose. The passion of ignorance is situated precisely between the subject and the fantasy of himself. The ideal ego wishes to eradicate the other, the ego ideal, What is at the heart all psychopathological behaviour is an incapacity to communicate with aspects of the self that have, as part of the self protective mechanism of the psyche, been obscured because they are too painful to be addressed. At the time of obfuscation, the only perceived path for survival has been the isolation and dissociation of something intrinsic. Analytical psychology recognizes that there are dark recesses people carry deep within in which lurk forbidden secrets which are treated as unapproachable. These dark places and forbidden secrets are not passive, they pulsate with the presence of malignant, carnivorous forces that reek of fear and anarchy. It is no accident that the developmental arm of analytical psychology is preoccupied to the determining effects of family history, for it is in the family setting that people experience the strongest and most primitive feelings, where relationships take on their most stark and forceful forms. A persons experience within the context of family has its genesis at a time before coping mechanisms are developed, before and independent sense of security and stability has had time to consolidate. Analytical psychology understands that the individual is deeply affected by the net of past experiences. They impact on the way in which present experiences are assimilated or repressed. They determine what may be allowed to come to consciousness and what must be assigned to the unconscious. The unconscious is occasioned by a number of factors, by repression, instinctual inheritance, social conditioning and repressed trauma. It can be personal or collective. In all its aspects, the unconscious represents that part of an individuals psychic existence that is, by multiple strategies, consigned to function without conscious control. Thus analytical psychology attempts inexorably to draw one deeper and deeper into a journey of confrontation with ones self. It calls on the individual to overcome his defences, to transcend the bounds of secure systems he has established to keep full and immediate experience at bay. In the tale of Moby Dick, Ahab misuses his power, disregards the safety of his crew and the profitability of the voyage, even forfeits his own life in order to avenge himself on the whale who robbed him of his leg. He does this, all to avoid a confrontation with himself and his own vulnerabilities. The Story: The tale of Moby Dick begins with the enigmatic words of the narrator, Having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntary pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet, and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping onto the street and methodically knocking peoples hats off – then, I account it high time to get to see as soon as I can. (Melville 1992 p. 1) With these words Ishmael the story teller announces his intention to go to sea. He makes the journey to New Bedford, Massachusetts where he takes accommodation at a whalers inn, but as the inn is very full he finds himself sharing a bed with a stranger, Queequeg, a harpooner from the South Pacific. Queequeg is a cannibal from a South Sea Island. His strange physical form appears bizarre to Ishmael. He is covered in strange tattoos and apart from his alien appearance has strange habits and customs. Ishmael is terrified by the encounter but as time passes he is able to move beyond the outward exterior of Queequeg to understand that they are both men, and this strange creature from the South Seas, far from being a terrifying beast is human, and one with a particularly kind heart and generous spirit. The two men join forces and set out to seek work together as whalers. They secure work on the Pequod, a whaling vessel decked out with the bones and teeth of its victims, Peleg and Bildad, t he Pequods Quaker owners, tell them of their Captain, Ahab, who on his last voyage found that sperm whales are not defenceless victims, but creatures with teeth; Ahab has had his leg ripped from him by an enormous white whale. The hunted became the hunter and had struck back. The Pequod leaves the safety of the harbour in Nantucket on a bitterly cold Christmas Day, its crew a diverse mixture of nationalities and cultures. Days later, as the ship makes into warmer waters, Ahab finally appears on deck, balancing unsteadily on his prostheses carved from the jaw bone of a sperm whale. Ahabs intention: to pursue and kill Moby Dick, the great white whale who took his leg. To Ahab, this whale is the embodiment of evil. He must be killed and killed by Ahab. To this end he nails a gold doubloon to the mast and announces to all that the man who first sights Moby Dick will have the coin. Aboard one of these ships is a crazed prophet called Gabriel who predicts doom to all who pursue Moby Dick and the superstitious crew of the Pequod share their sea-stories of how those who hunted the whale met with ill fortune. It is not long before misfortune is seen and known by the crew. While butchering their catch, the harpooner Tashtego falls into the mouth of a dead whale which tears free of the Pequod and sinks. Queequeg dives after the drowning man, slashes into the slowly sinking head with his knife and frees the seaman. During another whale hunt, the black cabin boy Pip, jumps from a whaleboat and is left stranded at sea. He is rescued but the trauma renders him mentally disturbed. He is left mindless and uncanny, a prophetic jester onboard the ship. Still the hunt continues. One day, the Pequod encounters the whaler, the Samuel Enderby. Captain Boomer the skipper has lost an arm in a chance meeting with Moby Dick. As the two captains discuss the whale the contrast becomes evident. Boomer is happy simply to have survived his encounter, and he cannot understand Ahabs lust for vengeance. Queequeg becomes ill and asks the carpenter on board the Pequod to make him a coffin in preparation of his death but he does recover, and the coffin becomes the Pequods replacement life buoy. In expectation of finding Moby Dick, Ahab orders a harpoon to be forged and baptizes this harpoon with the blood of the Pequod harpooners, and his own. Although the Pequod is still hunting whales, it is the hunt for Moby Dick that always hangs over the life of the ship. Then, one day, Fedallah makes a prophesy regarding the death of Ahab. Ahab will see two hearses, the second made from American wood and he will be killed by hemp rope. To Ahab, this means he will not die at sea, for at sea there are no hangings and no hearses. A tropical storm encompasses the Pequod, illuminating it with electrical fire. To Ahab this is a sign of imminent confrontation and success. To Starbuck, the ships first mate, it is a bad omen and he contemplates murdering Ahab to end the obsession. The tempest ends, but then one of the sailors plummets from the ships masthead and drowns—a grave forewarning of what lies ahead. As Ahabs obsessive desire to find and destroy Moby Dick intensifies, the mad Pip becomes his constant companion. It is near the equator that Ahab expects to find Moby Dick, and it is here that the Pequod meets two whalers, the Rachel and the Delight; both have had recent fatal encounters with the Great Whale. The Captain of the Rachel pleads with Ahab to help him find his son, lost in the battle with Moby Dick, but Ahab has only one goal, to find and kill the whale. Days pass, and then, finally, Ahab sights Moby Dick. The harpoon boats are launched. Moby Dick rams Ahabs harpoon boat, destroying it but Ahab is saved by his crew. The next day, Moby Dick is sighted once more. The whale is harpooned but again, Moby dick strikes back and once again rams Ahabs boat. Fedallah is trapped in the harpoon line, is dragged overboard to his death. Starbuck saves his Captain by manoeuvring the Pequod between Ahab and the enraged beast. On the third day, the boats are launched once again and are sent after Moby Dick. The whale turns and attacks the boats, and they see that Fedallahs corpse is still lashed to the whale by the harpoon line. In the ensuing battle, Moby Dick rams the Pequod and she begins to sinks. Ahab, caught in a harpoon line, is hurled out of his whale boat to his death. The remaining whaleboats and crew are caught in the vortex of the sinking Pequod and dragged to their deaths. Ishmael, thrown from his boat at the beginning of the hunt, is the only man to survive. He floats, alone on Queequegs coffin, the only remaining flotsam from the wreckage, an isolated figure in a watery world. On the second day, a sail drew near, nearer, and picked me up at last. It was the devious-cruising Rachel that in her retracing search after her missing children, only found another orphan. (Melville 1992 p. 583) An Uncanny Tale In telling the story of Moby Dick, Melvilles narrator, Ishmael, engages in a process of repetition that brings the dead back to life. His narrator offers what appears to be a sober account of his real experience but in the recounting it is immediately evident that this experience is anything but commonplace. Melvilles combination of reality and the fantastic, the credible and the incredible, compel the reader to accept the narrative on its own terms. The tale confronts the reader with narratorial anxiety in both the telling of the tale and in the horror of its content. Melvilles narrative method exemplifies the de-familiarisation of the familiar, the domestication of terror that characterises the uncanny. Freud characterises the uncanny as that which arouses dread and horror; (Freud 1919 p. 339) it is that class of things which lead us back to what is known of the old and familiar. (Freud 1919 p.340) It is precarious, this combination of the familiar and the unfamiliar, where the opposites of the homely, customary and congenial also denote the secret that is concealed and kept from sight. (Freud 1919 p. 347) We believe we are at home in the immediate circle of beings. That which is, is familiar, reliable, ordinary. Nevertheless, the clearing is pervaded by a constant concealment in the double form of refusal and dissembling. At the bottom, the ordinary is not ordinary; it is extra-ordinary, uncanny. (Heidegger 1971 p. 53) Freud argues that one of the most anxiety-producing devices of the uncanny is the double. Freud considers the uncanniness of the double to be the effect of the egos projection of the object ‘outwardly as something foreign to itself. What is inside is experienced as coming from outside, (Freud 1919 p.358) split off and isolated through a process of repression and dissociation. The subject may identify with another to the extent that he is not sure which identity he is or he may substitute the extraneous self for his own. In the tale of Moby Dick it is this lack of difference which dominates Ahabs relationship to the whale. While Ahab may try to establish himself as a saviour, he too, deep down, is dangerous and destructive. It is this sameness that is problematic. When it becomes too obvious that the other is contained in the self, the other becomes an object for irrational hostility. In this dynamic, both the object (the whale) and the subject (Ahab) become doubles of each othe r in the psyche of the person who is enmeshed in the projection. The notion of the double always inspires the subject with dread and can be summed up as a dividing and interchanging of the ego. There is an inevitable cyclic repetition of the initial trauma. It is an inescapable loop until the doubling is concluded. Aboard ship, Ahab imposes an irresistible dictatorship in order to pursue his obsession. Moby Dick had injured him and that fact contravened Ahabs entire view of how the world should be ordered. The self-righteous, imposing Captain of the Pequod smoulders with the fires of hell. His all consuming pride and rage against the white whale blaze in the great speech before his crew where he proclaims, That inscrutable thing is chiefly what I hate; and be the white whale agent, or the white whale principal, I will wreak my hate upon him Talk to me not of blasphemy, man, Id strike the sun if it insulted me. (Melville 1992 p. 167) Ahab cannot see Moby Dick for what the great while whale is, because the reality of the animal is subsumed under the passion of Ahabs projection. But because this ‘relationship is skewed, the rest of Ahabs world suffers. Ahab has no connection to any other person or thing beyond the white whale. It is inevitable that the whale proves to be his nemesis; it is the whale that inflicts retribution and vengeance, not Ahab. The Orphan With the first sentence of Moby Dick we are confronted with the complex figure of Ishmael. The narrative begins with the words Call me Ishmael. The name has come to symbolize orphans and social outcasts but it has another aspect to it. The word literally means ‘God hears. Ishmael, according to the Hebrew Scriptures, was the first son of Abraham, born to a slave woman, Hagar because Abraham believed his wife Sarah to be infertile. But when God granted Sarah a son of her own, Ishmael and his mother were turned out of Abrahams household. Isaac inherited the birthright from Abraham. Ishmael was left to die under a bush in the wilderness by his distraught and starving mother. But in her distress she cried out and God heard her cry and the cry of the child. 15When the water in the skin was gone, she cast the child under one of the bushes. 16 And God heard the voice of the boy; and the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven, and said to her, What troubles you, Hagar? Do not be afraid; for God has heard the voice of the boy where he is. 18Come, lift up the boy and hold him fast with your hand, for I will make a great nation of him. 19Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water. She went, and filled the skin with water, and gave the boy a drink. 20God was with the boy, and he grew up; he lived in the wilderness, and became an expert with the bow. (Genesis 21: 15 – 20 The Bible NRSV 1988) From a Judeo-Christian perspective Ishmael was an outcast, the result of his fathers failure to believe and obey YHWHs promise to give him a son through his wife Sarah. As a consequence, Ishmael was the one repressed and rejected. But Ishmael was heard and taken care of by God. Throughout his life, Melville was preoccupied with the imagery of orphans and in particular with the character Ishmael. In Mardi he writes, But as sailors are mostly foundlings and castaways, and carry all their kith and kin in their arms and legs, there hardly ever appears any heir-at-law to claim their estate. (Melville 2004 p. 139) In Redburn, Melville writes, at last I have found myself a sort of Ishmael on the ship, without a single friend or companion. (Melville 1957 p. 60) In Pierre Melville writes, so that once more he might not feel himself driven out, an Ishmael into the desert, with no maternal Hagar to accompany him and comfort him. (Melville 1962 p. 125) Edward Edinger argues that Melville had an Ishmael complex which had two sources; personal life experience and identification with an archetypal image. (Edinger 1995 p. 23) The personal cause would be the insanity and death of his father and the ensuing hardships this caused. Melville was twelve and a half when his father died, close to the age of the biblical Ishmael who was thirteen. In addition, he was rejected by his mother, who favoured her first son. According to Arvin Newton, Melville, as an elderly man, once remarked to his niece that his mother had hated him. (Arvin 1950 p.30) The pain of his rejection is poignantly evident in the tale of Mob y Dick Most of the action is seen through the eyes of Ishmael. He will thus represent the authors ego (Edinger 1995 p. 24) Ishmael, the lone survivor of this misadventure is the story teller. At the outset of the story, Ishmael presents as one who is in pain and internal distress. He is impoverished, hostile, depressed and potentially suicidal. He heads for the sea, to Nantucket to find work on a whaler. In the past he has found sea voyages as a way of containing his internal conflict and pain. But before he can find a ship, his poverty forces him to find accommodation in a squalid inn, sharing a bed with a harpooner. When the harpooner enters the room in which Ishmael is sleeping he awakes in horror at the apparition before him, a man who appears to have just returned from the ministrations of a surgeon, his face covered with sticking plaster. But that is not the reality. The harpooner is a cannibal from the pacific, tattooed in his native islander tradition. He carries a tomahawk, a seal skin purse with the hair still attached and a shrunken head. The overall impression is alien, bizarre and terrifying to Ishmael. He watches from beneath the counterpane as the stranger uses the tomahawk as a pipe, then quietly turns into the bed with Ishmael. He is unaware of Ishmaels presence and reacts with instinctive aggression. In the fracas that follows Ishmael calls out in terror to the landlord for help. ‘Landlord! Watch! Coffin! Angels! Save me! (Melville 1992 p. 25) Peter Coffin, the landlord, soothes the moment. He introduces the men to each other and Ishmael is suddenly aware that this frightening apparition is a person, with a name. Queequeg is no longer a nameless savage, a cannibal with a shrunken head and a death dealing tomahawk. The tomahawk is also a peace pipe, and he shares the smoke from this unique instrument with Ishmael. The tomahawk-pipe has now become a symbol for both life and death, a symbol of reconciliation and peace. In this initial encounter with Queequeg a transformation is begun in Ishmael. In symbolic terms, he has embraced, in the symbolic form of Queequ eg, both death and life as indivisible partners, and when he wakes the following morning he begins to see the world from a different perspective. Ishmael understands the mixture of life and death that Queequegs tomahawk-come-pipe represents, and realizes, at least in that moment, that such experience can lead to renewal. The Obsession, Ahab demonstrates the dangers of an all consuming focus; the object of his obsession is the solitary great white whale, nicknamed Moby-Dick by the whalers. On his previous voyage, Ahab had his leg ripped off by Moby-Dick, and at the Ishmaels story begins, he has sworn to take his vengeance by hunting down and killing the great whale. It never occurs to Ahab that he lost his leg while trying to take the whales life and while in the process of killing countless other whales for monetary gain. Ahabs obsession has more to do with what Moby Dick represents than with the great whale himself. He saw Moby Dick as the prey and could not cope with the idea that he was not omnipotent in this relationship, that he was outdone by another creature. As Ahab reasons in a fiery speech to the crew of the Pequod, all visible objects are like pasteboard masks that hide some unknown but still reasoning thing. Ahab hates that inscrutable thing that hides behind the mask of appearance. The only way to figh t against it, he proclaims is to strike through the mask! Moby Dick, as a mysterious force of nature, represents the most outrageous, malevolent aspect of natures mask. To kill it, in the mind of Ahab, is to reach for and seize the unknowable truth that is hidden from all people. He cannot conceive of the concept that there is a simpler reality; he is not the master of all other species. He sees his failure to be able to take life at will as a reversal of his role as the predator and therefore can only conceive of himself now as the one preyed upon. This he cannot accept and so is driven to destroy that which in his mind denies his appropriated reality. Ahabs insane obsession and hunt for Moby Dick describes the consequences of viewing the world as a mask that hides unknowable truth. It is Ahabs frustration with the limits of human knowledge and power that lead him to reject both science and logic and instead embrace violence and the dark magic of Fedallah his demonic advisor. Like Christopher Marlowes Doctor Faustus, he has made a pact with the devil. Thinking he is immortal, Ahab attacks Moby Dick, striking at the mask of appearance that supposedly hides ultimate truth. His devotion to the idea that truth exists behind or beyond the physical world forces him to destroy himself in the attempt to reach it. Ahab can only relinquish his illusion by dying, or killing the object upon which his illusion has rested. Ahabs ideal ego, that is the fantasy he has of himself as one who is in control and omnipotent, is in the process of destroying his ego ideal, that is, his potential as man, captain and hunter. He believes he must eradicate the evil of the whale, but in reality, because he is caught in this doubling with the whale, he is intent on murdering himself. His passion of ignorance has overwhelmed his reason, blinded him to his own creative potential. All that is left is the passion and it knows no reason People thus reduced inflict the traumatic pain of their void on others. The evil they engender is not just about destruction but emerges from the chaotic principle of pure drive which has loss at its centre and therefore must occasion more loss. The important point is not that the symbolism of what Ahab lost, but the symbolism of the loss itself. Revenge is only sought when there has been a great loss, a loss that is seen to embody an injustice, and an injustice imposed by an enemy over whom victory should have been assured. Ahab lost his leg to a beast, an inferior creature. His quest for revenge could just as easily have been instituted by the loss of an arm, a child, or a father. The loss implies inferiority to a foe that is deemed to be unworthy of such a victory. Revenge becomes obsession because only with revenge can the world become again that which supports the adopted perception of order. For Ahab, revenge can only be perceived as the re-imposition of superiority and ascenda ncy. It is the adoption of this delusional sense of what order is, that gives rise to the monomania that attends a thirst for revenge. Ahabs loss of limb is immediate and it is personal but despite losing a leg he can still walk, he can still captain, he can still go on a whaleboat and harpoon. It is the greater loss which is the mechanism standing behind the driving revenge and his monomaniacal pursuit of it. As if to be human is forever to be prey to turning your corner of the human race, hence perhaps all of it, into some new species of the genus of humanity, for the better or for the worse. (Cavell 1998 p.154) For this reason Ahab must inflate the object of his revenge and recreate it as something larger in context. To accomplish this, Ahab must imbue Moby Dick massive power, power beyond comprehension. By placing the capacity of evil upon the whale, Ahab can fool himself into thinking that Moby Dick is a greater being than he really is and therefore his own loss appears greater than it really is. For Ahab, the delusion attendant to the psychosis of revenge suppresses the reality that he is merely a man bent on attempting to restore his lost sense of superiority. This reality is replaced with a grandiose vision of one who is a redeemer for humanity. But it is not humanity Ahab is attempting to redeem; it is his own inflated ego whose ascendancy has been usurped. By imputing to Moby-Dick a demonic power he does not really possess Ahab, blinds himself to any reality of what Moby Dick actually is, to any real strength and intelligence that the whale possesses. This blindness springs not from mere ignorance, but from a consciously willed ignorance, from the desire not to know, from the ambition not to understand. In order to sustain his delusional conception of himself, he must appoint concomitant distortion to the world which surrounds him, and particularly to the object of his obsession. Ahab desperately wants Moby Dick to be inscrutable. He wants him to be a thing that is incapable of being understood, because that enables him to categorize his nemesis as sheer evil. Therefore he is compelled to refuse any effort at understanding and it is this iron-willed ambition to remain ignorant, to label this thing as ultimate evil that generates the ironic twist whereby Ahab himself becomes the ultimate danger, the evil which he imagines he is seeking to eradicate. It is Ahab who causes the complete destruction of all that surrounds him. Evil and the Passion of Ignorance Ahab desires to attach to Moby Dick all the evil that exists in the world. Moby Dick is a creation of his infantile envious omnipotent sadistic phantasies. Ahab himself identifies the ultimately personal source of what he sees as a universal evil when he says, It was Moby-Dick that dismasted me; Moby-Dick that brought me to this dead stump I stand on now it was that accursed white whale that razeed me; made a poor pegging lubber of me for ever and a day! (Melville 1992 p.166). Moby Dick took away Ahabs ability to literally stand on his own two feet. The loss of his leg can also be seen as a symbolic emasculation and that symbolism is made all the more apparent by the fact that Ahabs quest is for a sperm whale. Moby-Dick contains sperm; Ahab does not. In his quest for revenge, all of Ahabs creative potential is voided because he cannot accept that there is a reality that is greater and stronger than himself. It is in the attempt to deny the reality and existence of that which surpasses him that he divorces himself from his own creative life potential. Captain Ahab is both the psychotic parent in command of the infant and the infant overwhelmed with his own omnipotent phantasy. In the tale of Moby Dick, Herman Melville created a character whose motives of vengeance typify the behaviour of a psychotic person. Captain Ahab, in his delusion, could not allow Moby Dick to share the same space in his paranoid and infantile world. Ahab experienced the loss of his leg as a lethal wound that was potentially reparable only by a copy-cat act of vengeance taken upon the alleged guilty Moby Dick. That intangible malignity which has been there from the beginning Ahab did not fall down and worship it, but deliriously transferring its idea to the abhorred white whale, he pitted himself, all mutilated, against it He piled upon the whales hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole race from Adam down; and then as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot hearts shell upon. (Melville 1991 p. 187) We Cannibals must help these poor Christians. The relationship between Ishmael and Queequeg is the antithesis of the relationship between Ahab and Moby Dick. Ishmael and Queequeg develop a relationship that is based on the recognition of their dissimilarity and separateness. Ahab and Moby Dick are joined together by Ahabs projection and obsession. With Queequeg and Ishmael, the difference is something to be explored. The relationship between Queequeg and Ishmael has a germ of creativity; that between Ahab and Moby Dick is founded on destruction and butchery. The initial encounter between Queequeg and Ishmael provokes both terror and aggression. The landlord intervenes, calming the situation and bringing them both to an awareness of the necessity of living alongside of each other. This generates a realisation in both Ishmael and Queequeg that they are both men despite the visual and cultural dissimilarities. As time passes and conversation is enjoined, they begin to comprehend both their differences and their commonly shared objectives. According to the customs of Queequegs home, Ishmael and Queequeg are married after a social smoke out of the tomahawk pipe. Queequeg gives Ishmael half of his belongings, and the two men continue to share a bed. The tattooed body of Queequeg is much like the patchwork quilt that covers them both as they sleep. These tattoos are a written narrative of the universe but no one, save the prophet who inscribed them can decipher their meaning, not even Queequeg. And this tattooing had been the work of a departed prophet and seer of his island, who, by those hieroglyphic marks, had written out on his body a complete theory of the heavens and the earth, and a mystical treatise on the art of attaining truth; so that Queequeg in his own proper person was a riddle to unfold; a wondrous work in one volume; but whose mysteries not even himself could read, though his own live heart beat against them; and these mysteries were therefore destined in the end to moulder away with the living parchment whereon they were inscribed, and so be unsolved to the last.(Melville 1992 p. 491) For Ishmael, Queequeg represents the dangerous and the forbidden for which Ishmael secretly yearns. Queequeg also symbolizes the explorative and adventurous aspect of Ishmaels personality. Once Ishmael recognizes this, his fears lessen and he embraces the savage into his life. Ishmaels initial hostility to Queequeg is a projection of the suppression of a part of his own personality. Exotic and unique, Queequeg represents the unknown. Ishmael is able to recognise this, to admit it, and to realise that his fear is due to ignorance. With this awareness comes the further realisation that he, Ishmael, must travel to the sea in order to gain life experience by exploring and embracing the unknown. The friendship between the two men, although troubled by prejudice and slow to develop into a full understanding of one anothers character, is solidified with their ‘marriage contract. They effectively become one person, illustrating the full integration of Queequegs otherness into Ishmaels personality. At the end of the book, Ishmael survives because of Queequegs coffin. In accordance with their marriage contract, Queequeg offers Ishmael protection from the sea-hawks, sharks and sea in the form of his coffin. In turn, Ishmael carries on Queequegs spirit, carved into the wood of the coffin. Queequeg represents that part of Ishmael which

The Twilight Saga 2: New Moon Chapter 24 VOTE

HE WAS NOT PLEASED, THAT MUCH WAS EASY TO READ in his face. But, without further argument, he took me in his arms and sprang lithely from my window, landing without the slightest jolt, like a cat. It was a little bit farther down than I'd imagined. â€Å"All right then,† he said, his voice seething with disapproval. â€Å"Up you go.† He helped me onto his back, and took off running. Even after all this time, it felt routine. Easy. Evidently this was something you never forgot, like riding a bicycle. It was so very quiet and dark as he ran through the forest, his breathing slow and evendark enough that the trees flying past us were nearly invisible, and only the rush of air in my face truly gave away our speed. The air was damp; it didn't burn my eyes the way the wind in the big plaza had, and that was comforting. As was the night, too, after that terrifying brightness. Like the thick quilt I'd played under as a child, the dark felt familiar and protecting. I remembered that running through the forest like this used to frighten me, that I used to have to close my eyes. It seemed a silly reaction to me now. I kept my eyes wide, my chin resting on his shoulder, my cheek against his neck. The speed was exhilarating. A hundred times better than the motorcycle. I turned my face toward him and pressed my lips into the cold stone skin of his neck. â€Å"Thank you,† he said, as the vague, black shapes of trees raced past us. â€Å"Does that mean you've decided you're awake?† I laughed. The sound was easy, natural, effortless. It sounded right. â€Å"Not really. More that, either way, I'm not trying to wake up. Not tonight.† â€Å"I'll earn your trust back somehow,† he murmured, mostly to himself. â€Å"If it's my final act.† â€Å"I trust you,† I assured him. â€Å"It's me I don't trust.† â€Å"Explain that, please.† He'd slowed to a walkI could only tell because the wind ceasedand I guessed that we weren't far from the house. In fact, I thought I could make out the sound of the river rushing somewhere close by in the darkness. â€Å"Well† I struggled to find the right way to phrase it. â€Å"I don't trust myself to be enough. To deserve you. There's nothing about me that could hold you.† He stopped and reached around to pull me from his back. His gentle hands did not release me; after he'd set me on my feet again, he wrapped his arms tightly around me, hugging me to his chest. â€Å"Your hold is permanent and unbreakable,† he whispered. â€Å"Never doubt that.† But how could I not? â€Å"You never did tell me† he murmured. â€Å"What?† â€Å"What your greatest problem is.† â€Å"I'll give you one guess.† I sighed, and reached up to touch the tip of his nose with my index finger. He nodded. â€Å"I'm worse than the Volturi,† he said grimly. â€Å"I guess I've earned that.† I rolled my eyes. â€Å"The worst the Volturi can do is kill me.† He waited with tense eyes. â€Å"You can leave me,† I explained. â€Å"The Volturi, Victoria they're nothing compared to that.† Even in the darkness, I could see the anguish twist his faceit reminded me of his expression under Jane's torturing gaze; I felt sick, and regretted speaking the truth. â€Å"Don't,† I whispered, touching his face. â€Å"Don't be sad.† He pulled one corner of his mouth up halfheartedly, but the expression didn't touch his eyes. â€Å"If there was only some way to make you see that I can't leave you,† he whispered. â€Å"Time, I suppose, will be the way to convince you.† I liked the idea of time. â€Å"Okay,† I agreed. His face was still tormented. I tried to distract him with inconsequentials. â€Å"Sosince you're staying. Can I have my stuff back?† I asked, making my tone as light as I could manage. My attempt worked, to an extent: he laughed. But his eyes retained the misery. â€Å"Your things were never gone,† he told me. â€Å"I knew it was wrong, since I promised you peace without reminders. It was stupid and childish, but I wanted to leave something of myself with you. The CD, the pictures, the ticketsthey're all under your floorboards.† â€Å"Really?† He nodded, seeming slightly cheered by my obvious pleasure in this trivial fact. It wasn't enough to heal the pain in his face completely. â€Å"I think,† I said slowly, â€Å"I'm not sure, but I wonder I think maybe I knew it the whole time.† â€Å"What did you know?† I only wanted to take away the agony in his eyes, but as I spoke the words, they sounded truer than I expected they would. â€Å"Some part of me, my subconscious maybe, never stopped believing that you still cared whether I lived or died. That's probably why I was hearing the voices.† There was a very deep silence for a moment. â€Å"Voices?† he asked flatly. â€Å"Well, just one voice. Yours. It's a long story.† The wary look on his face made me wish that I hadn't brought that up. Would he think I was crazy, like everyone else? Was everyone else right about that? But at least that expressionthe one that made him look like something was burning himfaded. â€Å"I've got time.† His voice was unnaturally even. â€Å"It's pretty pathetic.† He waited. I wasn't sure how to explain. â€Å"Do you remember what Alice said about extreme sports?† He spoke the words without inflection or emphasis. â€Å"You jumped off a cliff for fun.† â€Å"Er, right. And before that, with the motorcycle† â€Å"Motorcycle?† he asked. I knew his voice well enough to hear something brewing behind the calm. â€Å"I guess I didn't tell Alice about that part.† â€Å"No.† â€Å"Well, about that See, I found that when I was doing something dangerous or stupid I could remember you more clearly,† I confessed, feeling completely mental. â€Å"I could remember how your voice sounded when you were angry. I could hear it, like you were standing right there next to me. Mostly I tried not to think about you, but this didn't hurt so muchit was like you were protecting me again. Like you didn't want me to be hurt. â€Å"And, well, I wonder if the reason I could hear you so clearly was because, underneath it all. I always knew that you hadn't stopped loving me.† Again, as I spoke, the words brought with them a sense of conviction. Of rightness. Some deep place inside me recognized truth. His words came out half-strangled. â€Å"You were risking your life to hear† â€Å"Shh,† I interrupted him. â€Å"Hold on a second. I think I'm having an epiphany here.† I thought of that night in Port Angeles when I'd had my first delusion. I'd come up with two options. Insanity or wish fulfillment. I'd seen no third option. But what if What if you sincerely believed something was true, but you were dead wrong? What if you were so stubbornly sure that you were right, that you wouldn't even consider the truth? Would the truth be silenced, or would it try to break through? Option three: Edward loved me. The bond forged between us was not one that could be broken by absence, distance, or time. And no matter how much more special or beautiful or brilliant or perfect than me he might be, he was as irreversibly altered as I was. As I would always belong to him, so would he always be mine. Was that what I'd been trying to tell myself? â€Å"Oh!† â€Å"Bella?† â€Å"Oh. Okay. I see.† â€Å"Your epiphany?† he asked, his voice uneven and strained. â€Å"You love me,† I marveled. The sense of conviction and Tightness washed through me again. Though his eyes were still anxious, the crooked smile I loved best flashed across his face. â€Å"Truly, I do.† My heart inflated like it was going to crack right through my ribs. It filled my chest and blocked my throat so that I could not speak. He really did want me the way I wanted himforever. It was only fear for my soul, for the human things he didn't want to take from me, that made him so desperate to leave me mortal. Compared to the fear that he didn't want me, this hurdlemy soulseemed almost insignificant. He took my face tightly between his cool hands and kissed me until I was so dizzy the forest was spinning. Then he leaned his forehead against mine, and I was not the only one breathing harder than usual. â€Å"You were better at it than I was, you know,† he told me. â€Å"Better at what?† â€Å"Surviving. You, at least, made an effort. You got up in the morning, tried to be normal for Charlie, followed the pattern of your life. When I wasn't actively tracking, I was totally useless. I couldn't be around my familyI couldn't be around anyone. I'm embarrassed to admit that I more or less curled up into a ball and let the misery have me.† He grinned, sheepish. â€Å"It was much more pathetic than hearing voices. And, of course, you know I do that, too.† I was deeply relieved that he really seemed to understandcomforted that this all made sense to him. At any rate, he wasn't looking at me like I was crazy. He was looking at me like he loved me. â€Å"I only heard one voice,† I corrected him. He laughed and then pulled me tight against his right side and started to lead me forward. â€Å"I'm just humoring you with this.† He motioned broadly with his hand toward the darkness in front of us as we walked. There was something pale and immense therethe house, I realized. â€Å"It doesn't matter in the slightest what they say.† â€Å"This affects them now, too.† He shrugged indifferently. He led me through the open front door into the dark house and flipped the lights on. The room was just as I'd remembered itthe piano and the white couches and the pale, massive staircase. No dust, no white sheets. Edward called out the names with no more volume than I'd use in regular conversation. â€Å"Carlisle? Esme? Rosalie? Emmett? Jasper? Alice?† They would hear. Carlisle was suddenly standing beside me, as if he'd been there all along. â€Å"Welcome back, Bella.† He smiled. â€Å"What can we do for you this morning? I imagine, due to the hour, that this is not a purely social visit?† I nodded. â€Å"I'd like to talk to everyone at once, if that's okay. About something important.† I couldn't help glancing up at Edward's face as I spoke. His expression was critical, but resigned. When I looked back to Carlisle, he was looking at Edward, too. â€Å"Of course,† Carlisle said. â€Å"Why don't we talk in the other room?† Carlisle led the way through the bright living room, around the corner to the dining room, turning on lights as he went. The walls were white, the ceilings high, like the living room. In the center of the room, under the low-hanging chandelier, was a large, polished oval table surrounded by eight chairs. Carlisle held out a chair for me at the head. I'd never seen the Cullens use the dining room table beforeit was just a prop. They didn't eat in the house. As soon as I turned to sit in the chair, I saw that we were not alone. Esme had followed Edward, and behind her the rest of the family filed in. Carlisle sat down on my right, and Edward on my left. Everyone else took their seats in silence. Alice was grinning at me, already in on the plot. Emmett and Jasper looked curious, and Rosalie smiled at me tentatively. My answering smile was just as timid. That was going to take some getting used to. Carlisle nodded toward me. â€Å"The floor is yours.† I swallowed. Their gazing eyes made me nervous. Edward took my hand under the table. I peeked at him, but he was watching the others, his fate suddenly fierce. â€Å"Well,† I paused. â€Å"I'm hoping Alice has already told you everything that happened in Volterra?† â€Å"Everything,† Alice assured me. I threw her a meaningful look. â€Å"And on the way?† â€Å"That, too,† she nodded. â€Å"Good,† I sighed with relief. â€Å"Then we're all on the same page.† They waited patiently while I tried to order my thoughts. â€Å"So, I have a problem,† I began. â€Å"Alice promised the Volturi that I would become one of you. They're going to send someone to check, and I'm sure that's a bad thingsomething to avoid. â€Å"And so, now, this involves you all. I'm sorry about that.† I looked at each one of their beautiful faces, saving the most beautiful for last. Edward's mouth was turned down into a grimace. â€Å"But, if you don't want me, then I'm not going to force myself on you, whether Alice is willing or not.† Esme opened her mouth to speak, but I held up one finger to stop her. â€Å"Please, let me finish. You all know what I want. And I'm sure you know what Edward thinks, too. I think the only fair way to decide is for everyone to have a vote. If you decide you don't want me, then I guess I'll go back to Italy alone. I can't have them coming here.† My forehead creased as I considered that. There was the faint rumble of a growl in Edward's chest. I ignored him. â€Å"Taking into account, then, that I won't put any of you in danger either way, I want you to vote yes or no on the issue of me becoming a vampire.† I half-smiled on the last word, and gestured toward Carlisle to begin. â€Å"Just a minute,† Edward interrupted. I glared at him through narrowed eyes. He raised his eyebrows at me, squeezing my hand. â€Å"I have something to add before we vote.† I sighed. â€Å"About the danger Bella's referring to,† he continued. â€Å"I don't think we need to be overly anxious.† His expression became more animated. He put his free hand on the shining table and leaned forward. â€Å"You see,† he explained, looking around the table while he spoke, â€Å"there was more than one reason why I didn't want to shake Aro's hand there at the end. There's something they didn't think of, and I didn't want to cine them in.† He grinned. â€Å"Which was?† Alice prodded. I was sure my expression was just as skeptical as hers. â€Å"The Volturi are overconfident, and with good reason. When they decide to find someone, it's not really a problem. Do you remember Demetri?† He glanced down at me. I shuddered. He took that as a yes. â€Å"He finds peoplethat's his talent, why they keep him. â€Å"Now, the whole time we were with any of them, I was picking their brains for anything that might save us, getting as much information as possible. So I saw how Demetri's talent works. He's a trackera tracker a thousand times more gifted than Jarres was. His ability is loosely related to what I do, or what Aro does. He catches the flavor? I don't know how to describe it the tenor of someone's mind, and then he follows that. It works over immense distances. â€Å"But after Aro's little experiments, well† Edward shrugged. â€Å"You think he won't be able to find me,† I said flatly. He was smug. â€Å"I'm sure of it. He relies totally on that other sense. When it doesn't work with you, they'll all be blind.† â€Å"And how does that solve anything?† â€Å"Quite obviously, Alice will be able to tell when they're planning a visit, and I'll hide you. They'll be helpless,† he said with fierce enjoyment. â€Å"It will be like looking for a piece of straw in a haystack!† He and Emmett exchanged a glance and a smirk. This made no sense. â€Å"But they can find you,† I reminded him. â€Å"And I can take care of myself.† Emmett laughed, and reached across the table toward his brother, extending a fist. â€Å"Excellent plan, my brother,† he said with enthusiasm. Edward stretched out his arm to smack Emmett's fist with his own. â€Å"No,† Rosalie hissed. â€Å"Absolutely not,† I agreed. â€Å"Nice.† Jasper's voice was appreciative. â€Å"Idiots,† Alice muttered. Esme just glared at Edward. I straightened up in my chair, focusing. This was my meeting. â€Å"All right, then. Edward has offered an alternative for you to consider,† I said coolly. â€Å"Let's vote.† I looked toward Edward this time; it would be better to get his opinion out of the way. â€Å"Do you want me to join your family?† His eyes were hard and black as flint. â€Å"Not that way. You're staying human.† I nodded once, keeping my face businesslike, and then moved on. â€Å"Alice?† â€Å"Yes.† â€Å"Jasper?† â€Å"Yes,† he said, voice grave. I was a little surprisedI hadn't been at all sure of his votebut I suppressed my reaction and moved on. â€Å"Rosalie?† She hesitated, biting down on her full, perfect bottom lip. â€Å"No.† I kept my face blank and turned my head slightly to move on, but she held up both her hands, palms forward. â€Å"Let me explain,† she pleaded. â€Å"I don't mean that I have any aversion to you as a sister. It's just that this is not the life I would have chosen for myself. I wish there had been someone there to vote no for me.† I nodded slowly, and then turned to Emmett. â€Å"Hell, yes!† He grinned. â€Å"We can find some other way to pick a fight with this Demetri.† I was still grimacing at that when I looked at Esme. â€Å"Yes, of course, Bella. I already think of you as part of my family.† â€Å"Thank you, Esme,† I murmured as I turned toward Carlisle. I was suddenly nervous, wishing I had asked for his vote first. I was sure that this was the vote that mattered most, the vote that counted more than any majority. Carlisle wasn't looking at me. â€Å"Edward,† he said. â€Å"No,† Edward growled. His jaw was strained tight, his lips curled back from his teeth. â€Å"It's the only way that makes sense,† Carlisle insisted. â€Å"You've chosen not to live without her, and that doesn't leave me a choice.† Edward dropped my hand, shoving away from the table. He stalked out of the room, snarling under his breath. â€Å"I guess you know my vote.† Carlisle sighed. I was still staring after Edward. â€Å"Thanks,† I mumbled. An earsplitting crash echoed from the other room. I flinched, and spoke quickly. â€Å"That's all I needed. Thank you. For wanting to keep me. I feel exactly the same way about all of you, too.† My voice was jagged with emotion by the end. Esme was at my side in a flash, her cold arms around me. â€Å"Dearest Bella,† she breathed. I hugged her back. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Rosalie looking down at the table, and I realized that my words could be construed in two ways. â€Å"Well, Alice,† I said when Esme released me. â€Å"Where do you want to do this?† Alice stared at me, her eyes widening with terror. â€Å"No! No! NO!† Edward roared, charging back into the room. He was in my face before I had time to blink, bending over me, his expression twisted in rage. â€Å"Are you insane?† he shouted. â€Å"Have you utterly lost your mind?† I cringed away, my hands over my ears. â€Å"Um, Bella,† Alice interjected in an anxious voice. â€Å"I don't think I'm ready for that. I'll need to prepare† â€Å"You promised,† I reminded her, glaring under Edward's arm. â€Å"I know, but Seriously, Bella! I don't have any idea how to not killyou.† â€Å"You can do it,† I encouraged. â€Å"I trust you.† Edward snarled in fury. Alice shook her head quickly, looking panicked. â€Å"Carlisle?† I turned to look at him. Edward grabbed my face in his hand, forcing me to look at him. His other hand was out, palm toward Carlisle. Carlisle ignored that. â€Å"I'm able to do it,† he answered my question. I wished I could see his expression. â€Å"You would be in no danger of me losing control.† â€Å"Sounds good.† I hoped he could understand; it was hard to talk clearly the way Edward held my jaw. â€Å"Hold on,† Edward said between his teeth. â€Å"It doesn't have to be now.† â€Å"There's no reason for it not to be now,† I said, the words coming out distorted. â€Å"I can think of a few.† â€Å"Of course you can,† I said sourly. â€Å"Now let go of me.† He freed my face, and folded his arms across his chest. â€Å"In about two hours, Charlie will be here looking for you. I wouldn't put it past him to involve the police.† â€Å"All three of them.† But I frowned. This was always the hardest part. Charlie, Renee. Now Jacob, too. The people I would lose, the people I would hurt. I wished there was some way that I could be the only one to suffer, but I knew that was impossible. At the same time, I was hurting them more by staying human. Putting Charlie in constant danger through my proximity. Putting Jake in worse danger still by drawing his enemies across the land he felt bound to protect. And ReneeI couldn't even risk a visit to see my own mother for fear of bringing my deadly problems along with me! I was a danger magnet; I'd accepted that about myself. Accepting this, I knew I needed to be able to take care of myself and protect the ones I loved, even if that meant that I couldn't be with them. I needed to be strong. â€Å"In the interest of remaining inconspicuous,† Edward said, still talking through his gritted teeth, but looking at Carlisle now, â€Å"I suggest that we put this conversation off, at the very least until Bella finishes high school, and moves out of Charlie's house.† â€Å"That's a reasonable request, Bella,† Carlisle pointed out. I thought about Charlie's reaction when he woke up this morning, ifafter all that life had put him through in the last week with Harry's loss, and then I had put him through with my unexplained disappearancehe were to find my bed empty. Charlie deserved better than that. It was just a little more time; graduation wasn't so far away I pursed my lips. â€Å"I'll consider it.† Edward relaxed. His jaw unclenched. â€Å"I should probably take you home,† he said, more calm now, but clearly in a hurry to get me out of here. â€Å"Just in case Charlie wakes up early.† I looked at Carlisle. â€Å"After graduation?† â€Å"You have my word.† I took a deep breath, smiled, and turned back to Edward. â€Å"Okay. You can take me home.† Edward rushed me out of the house before Carlisle could promise me anything else. He took me out the back, so I didn't get to see what was broken in the living room. It was a quiet trip home. I was feeling triumphant, and a little smug. Scared stiff, too, of course, but I tried not to think about that part. It did me no good to worry about the painthe physical or the emotionalso I wouldn't. Not until I absolutely had to. When we got to my house, Edward didn't pause. He dashed up the wall and through my window in half a second. Then he pulled my arms frcm around his neck and set me on the bed. I thought I had a pretty good idea of what he was thinking, but his expression surprised me. Instead of furious, it was calculating. He paced silently back and forth across my dark room while I watched with growing suspicion. â€Å"Whatever you're planning, it's not going to work,† I told him. â€Å"Shh. I'm thinking.† â€Å"Ugh,† I groaned, throwing myself back on the bed and pulling the quilt over my head. There was no sound, but suddenly he was there. He flipped the cover back so he could see me. He was lying next to me. His hand reached up to brush my hair from my cheek. â€Å"If you don't mind, I'd much rather you didn't hide your face. I've lived without it for as long as I can stand. Now tell me something.† â€Å"What?† I asked, unwilling. â€Å"If you could have anything in the world, anything at all, what would it be?† I could feel the skepticism in my eyes. â€Å"You.† He shook his head impatiently. â€Å"Something you don't already have.† I wasn't sure where he was trying to lead me, so I thought carefully before I answered. I came up with something that was both true, and also probably impossible. â€Å"I would want Carlisle not to have to do it. I would want you to change me.† I watched his reaction warily, expecting more of the fury I'd seen at his house. I was surprised that his expression didn't change. It was still calculating, thoughtful. â€Å"What would you be willing to trade for that?† I couldn't believe my ears. I gawked at his composed face and blurted out the answer before I could think about it. â€Å"Anything.† He smiled faintly, and then pursed his lips. â€Å"Five years?† My face twisted into an expression somewhere between chagrin and horror. â€Å"You said anything,† he reminded me. â€Å"Yes, but you'll use the time to find a way out of it. I have to strike while the iron is hot. Besides, it's just too dangerous to be humanfor me, at least. So, anything but that.† He frowned. â€Å"Three years?† â€Å"No!† â€Å"Isn't it worth anyrhing to you at all? â€Å" I thought about how much I wanted this. Better to keep a poker face, I decided, and not let him know how very much that was. It would give me more leverage. â€Å"Six months?† He rolled his eyes. â€Å"Not good enough.† â€Å"One year, then,† I said. â€Å"That's my limit.† â€Å"At least give me two.† â€Å"No way. Nineteen I'll do. But I'm not going anywhere near twenty. If you're staying in your teens forever, then so am I.† He thought for a minute. â€Å"All right. Forget time limits. If you want me to be the onethen you'll just have to meet one condition.† â€Å"Condition?† My voice went flat. â€Å"What condition?† His eyes were cautioushe spoke slowly. â€Å"Marry me first.† I stared at him, waiting â€Å"Okay. What's the punch line?† He sighed. â€Å"You're wounding my ego, Bella. I just proposed to you, and you think it's a joke.† â€Å"Edward, please be serious.† â€Å"I am one hundred percent serious.† He gazed at me with no hint of humor in his face. â€Å"Oh, c'mon,† I said, an edge of hysteria in my voice. â€Å"I'm only eighteen.† â€Å"Well, I'm nearly a hundred and ten. It's time I settled down.† I looked away, out the dark window, trying to control the panic before it gave me away. â€Å"Look, marriage isn't exactly that high on my list of priorities, you know? It was sort of the kiss of death for Renee and Charlie.† â€Å"Interesting choice of words.† â€Å"You know what I mean.† He inhaled deeply. â€Å"Please don't tell me that you're afraid of the commitment,† his voice was disbelieving, and I understood what he meant. â€Å"That's not it exactly,† I hedged. â€Å"I'm afraid of Renee. She has some really intense opinions on getting married before you're thirty.† â€Å"Because she'd rather you became one of the eternal damned than get married.† He laughed darkly. â€Å"You think you're joking.† â€Å"Bella, if you compare the level of commitment between a marital union as opposed to bartering your soul in exchange for an eternity as a vampire† He shook his head. â€Å"If you're not brave enough to marry me, then† â€Å"Well,† I interrupted. â€Å"What if I did? What if I told you to take me to Vegas now? Would I be a vampire in three days?† He smiled, his teeth flashing in the dark. â€Å"Sure,† he said, calling my bluff. â€Å"I'll get my car.† â€Å"Dammit.† I muttered. â€Å"I'll give you eighteen months.† â€Å"No deal,† he said, grinning. â€Å"I like this condition.† â€Å"Fine. I'll have Carlisle do it when I graduate.† â€Å"If that's what you really want.† He shrugged, and his smile became absolutely angelic. â€Å"You're impossible,† I groaned. â€Å"A monster.† He chuckled. â€Å"Is that why you won't marry me?† I groaned again. He leaned toward me; his night-dark eyes melted and smoldered and shattered my concentration. † Please, Bella?† he breathed. I forgot how to breathe for a moment. When I recovered, I shook my head quickly, trying to clear my suddenly clouded mind. â€Å"Would this have gone better if I d had time to get a ring.'† â€Å"No! No rings!† I very nearly snouted. â€Å"Now you've done it,† he whispered. â€Å"Oops.† â€Å"Charlie's getting up; I'd better leave,† Edward said with resignation. My heart stopped beating. He gauged my expression for a second. â€Å"Would it be childish of me to hide in your closet, then?† â€Å"No,† I whispered eagerly. â€Å"Stay. Please.† Edward smiled and disappeared. I seethed in the darkness as I waited for Charlie to check on me. Edward knew exactly what he was doing, and I was willing to bet that all the injured surprise was part of the ploy. Of course, I still had the Carlisle option, but now that I knew there was a chance that Edward would change me himself, I wanted it bad. He was such a cheater. My door cracked open. â€Å"Morning, Dad.† â€Å"Oh, hey, Bella.† He sounded embarrassed at getting caught. â€Å"I didn't know you were awake.† â€Å"Yeah. I've just been waiting ior you to wake up so I could take a shower.† I started to get up. â€Å"Hold on,† Charlie said, flipping the light on. I blinked in the sudden brightness, and carefully kept my eyes away from the closet. â€Å"Let's talk for a minute first.† I couldn't control my grimace. I'd forgotten to ask Alice for a good excuse. â€Å"You know you're in trouble.† â€Å"Yeah, I know.† â€Å"I just about went crazy these last three days. I come home from Harry's funeral, and you're gone. Jacob could only tell me that you'd run off with Alice Cullen, and that he thought you were in trouble. You didn't leave me a number, and you didn't call. I didn't know where you were or whenor ifyou were coming back. Do you have any idea how how† He couldn't finish the sentence. He sucked in a sharp breath and moved on. â€Å"Can you give me one reason why I shouldn't ship you off to Jacksonville this second?† My eyes narrowed. So it was going to be threats, was it? Two could play at that game. I sat up, pulling the quilt around me. â€Å"Because I won't go.† â€Å"Now just one minute, young lady† â€Å"Look, Dad, I accept complete responsibility for my actions, and you have the right to ground me for as long as you want. I will also do all the chores and laundry and dishes until you think I've learned my lesson. And I guess you're within your rights if you want to kick me out, toobut that won't make me to go to Florida.† His face turned bright red. He took a few deep breaths before he answered. â€Å"Would you like to explain where you've been?† Oh, crap. â€Å"There was an emergency.† He raised his eyebrows in expectation of my brilliant explanation. I filled my cheeks with air and then blew it out noisily. â€Å"I don't know what to tell you, Dad. It was mostly a misunderstanding. He said, she said. It got out of hand.† He waited with a distrustful expression. â€Å"See, Alice told Rosalie about me jumping off the cliff† I was scrambling frantically to make this work, to keep it as close to the truth as possible so that my inability to lie convincingly would not undermine the excuse, but before I could go on, Charlie's expression reminded me that he didn't know arything about thecliff. Major oops. As if I wasn't already toast. â€Å"I guess I didn't tell you about that,† I choked out. â€Å"It was nothing. Just messing around, swimming with Jake. Anyway, Rosalie told Edward, and he was upset. She sort of accidentally made it sound like I wa? trying to kill myself or something. He wouldn't answer his phone, so Alice dragged me to L.A., to explain in person.† I shrugged, desperately hoping that he would not be so distracted by my slip that he'd miss the brilliant explanation I'd provided. Charlie's face was frozen. â€Å"Were you trying to kill yourself, Bella?† â€Å"No, of course not. Just having fun with Jake. Cliff diving. The La Push kids do it all the time. Like I said, nothing.† Charlie's face heated upfrom frozen to hot with fury. â€Å"What's it to Edward Cullen anyway?† he barked. â€Å"All this time, he's just left you dangling without a word† I interrupted him. â€Å"Another misunderstanding.† His face flushed again. â€Å"So is he back then?† â€Å"I'm not sure what the exact plan is. I think they all are.† He shook his head, the vein in his forehead pulsing. â€Å"I want you to stay away from him, Bella. I don't trust him. He's rotten for you. I won't let him mess you up like that again.† â€Å"Fine,† I said curtly. Charlie rocked back onto his heels. â€Å"Oh.† He scrambled for a second, exhaling loudly in surprise. â€Å"I thought you were going to be difficult.† â€Å"I am.† I stared straight into his eyes. â€Å"I meant, ‘Fine, I'll move out.'† His eyes bulged; his face turned puce. My resolve wavered as I started to worry about his health. He was no younger than Harry â€Å"Dad, I don't want to move out,† I said in a softer tone. â€Å"I love you. I know you're worried, but you need to trust me on this. And you're going to have to ease up on Edward if you want me to stay. Do you want me to live here or not?† â€Å"That's not fair, Bella. You know I want you to stay.† â€Å"Then be nice to Edward, because he's going to be where I am.† I said it with confidence. The conviction of my epiphany was still strong. â€Å"Not under my roof,† Charlie stormed. I sighed a heavy sigh. â€Å"Look, I'm not going to give you any more ultimatums tonightor I guess it's this morning. Just think about it for a few days, okay? But keep in mind that Edward and I are sort of a package deal.† â€Å"Bella† â€Å"Think it over,† I insisted. â€Å"And while you're doing that, could you give me some privacy? I really need a shower.† Charlie's face was a strange shade of purple, but he left, slamming the door behind him. I heard him stomp furiously down the stairs. I threw off my quilt, and Edward was already there, sitting in the rocking chair as if he d been present through the whole conversation. â€Å"Sorry about that,† I whispered. â€Å"It's not as if I don't deserve far worse,† he murmured. â€Å"Don't start anything with Charlie over me, please. â€Å" â€Å"Don't worry about it,† I breathed as I gathered up my bathroom things and a set of clean clothes. â€Å"I will start exactly as much as is necessary, and no more than that. Or are you trying to tell me I have nowhere to go?† I widened my eyes with false alarm. â€Å"You'd move in with a house full of vampires?† â€Å"That's probably the safest place for someone like me. Besides† I grinned. â€Å"If Charlie kicks me out, then there's no need for a graduation deadline, is there?† His jaw tightened. â€Å"So eager for eternal damnation,† he muttered. â€Å"You know you don't really believe that.† â€Å"Oh, don't I?† he fumed. â€Å"No. You don't.† He glowered at me and started to speak, but I cut him off. â€Å"If you really believed that you'd lost your soul, then when I found you in Volterra, you would have realized immediately what was happening, instead of thinking we were both dead together. But you didn'tyou said ‘Amazing. Carlisle was right,'† I reminded him, triumphant. â€Å"There's hope in you, after all.† For once, Edward was speechless. â€Å"So let's both just be hopeful, all right?† I suggested. â€Å"Not that it matters. If you stay, I don't need heaven.† He got up slowly, and came to put his hands on either side of my face as he stared into my eyes. â€Å"Forever,† he vowed, still a little staggered. â€Å"That's all I'm asking for,† I said, and stretched up on my toes so that I could press my lips to his.

Baroque Agead

Tu se’ morta is a piece sung by Orpheus accompanied by a basso continuo after he is told of Eurydice’s death. Orpheus wants to bring her back from Hell as he offers a distressed goodbye to the earth, sky and sun. The style of singing is simple and intended to bring a dramatic delivery to the audience. The vocal line is rhythmically free and the phrases are more irregular. The song is flexible because it is suggesting a sad and passionate farewell to the person he loves. To express this farewell, the song reaches the climax several different times and then drops away.Dido’s Lament is also accompanied by a basso continuo and has a mournful setting as well. The song opens with a descending chromatic line, the ground bass, which is repeated eleven different times throughout the piece. Dido repeats â€Å"Remember Me† several times as well also reaches the highest note of the aria. The dynamics were constant and not notated and the tempi were slow and constant. The woman who sang the song portrays a haunting and sorrowful mood for the listener. The song comes to a conclusion with a descending violin melody which expresses the tragedy.There are several similarities in these pieces. One of the main similarities is that both songs give the listener a haunting, sorrowful, distressed and sad feeling. Although one song is expressing the sorrow of a loved one’s death and the other is expressing the tragedy of one’s fate; they both put off a sad vibe. They both at one point or another reach a climax and then drop, which keeps the listener entertained and interested in the song. Tu se’ morta and Dido’s Lament are both accompanied by a basso continuo.Last but not least, the texture of both of these pieces is homophonic. The main difference, in my opinion, is how different they sound from one another because one is sung by a female and the other by a male. The deep, powerful voice of Orpheus as he sung Tu se’ morta compared to the high, thrill voice of the female who sung Dido’s Lament puts a whole new outlook on the songs. Even though both songs give a haunting feeling to the listener just the fact that one is a female and the other is male changed the mood slightly.In my opinion, it is hard to point out many differences. All in all, both pieces were interesting. The intensity of both Tu Se’ Morta and Dido’s Lament were compelling and put the listener in the exact mood that they were portraying. Haunting, sorrowful, sad and depressed was the mood I felt after listening to both. Personally, Dido’s Lament was my favorite out of the two. Her chromatic notes which created tension and stress kept the song fascinating and the want to hear more. In conclusion, both pieces were wonderful, but Dido’ Lament was absolutely amazing to the ears!

Cng Station Construction Lower Installation Cost

CNG Station Construction: Lower Installation Cost Many cities in the U.S. are ramping up to develop an infrastructure that will support compressed natural gas (CNG) vehicles. Though there are very few CNG-compatible, or even hybrid OEM passenger vehicles (Honda sells a CNG Civic and General Motors has started to produce a dual-fuel Chevrolet Impala), the market is growing for CNG powered fleet trucks. From long-haul tractor trailers, to regional or local same-day shippers, to garbage trucks, CNG is becoming a fuel of choice among companies who carry the cost of fuel as a major operating expense. Even in the second half of 2014 and now the first half of 2015, while oil prices are at their lowest in over a decade, CNG remains significantly less per gallon equivalent than diesel. Companies with large truck fleets are planning long-term and speculating that the price of oil won t stay low. 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