Homework Help: English: Macbeth Act 1 Quote Explanations

I ran out of creative juices haha so now I’m just doing quote explanations for Macbeth. Because this is what I’m learning in class and I might as well share it because I struggle with Shakespeare. So yeah, these are awful because of that and especially because I dozed off in class (every class nowadays, actually, because I don’t ever sleep more than 5 hours anymore haha) so anyone who looks at this should read the book anyway in case I’m wrong. But really, I’m not very good at English; I’m more of a science-y gal anyway.


“So foul and fair a day I have not seen” (1.3.38).

Context: This quote was stated by Macbeth, to Banquo. Macbeth and Banquo had just been to war, as in that same day, Macbeth had killed the king of Norway, thus ending the war. They have went off on their own, while the other troops set up camp. They are talking about the day.

Meaning: Macbeth either said: “I have not seen a day that was as awful yet as nice as today is” or “I have not seen a day that was as ugly yet as beautiful as today is.”

Significance: This quote is important as it will be the underlying theme of the play. It means that things that appear good can be bad, and things that appears bad can be good. Macbeth’s line demonstrates dramatic irony, as the witches have said it before in the first scene— which also makes it a motif— without Macbeth’s knowledge.

 

Lesser than Macbeth and greater.

Not so happy, yet much happier. (1.3.68-69)

 

Context: This quote was stated by the three witches, to Banquo. Macbeth and Banquo had just been to war, and have went off on their own, before seeing the three witches. The three witches hail Macbeth, telling him that he will become king, and Banquo tells them to give him a prophesy too. The witches are telling Banquo what will happen to him in his future.

Meaning: The witches said: “You, Banquo, will not be as great as Macbeth, but at the same time you’ll be greater. You’ll not be as fortunate, yet at the same time you’ll be more fortunate.”

Significance: This follows the motif of ambiguity, similar to all the statements the witches make. The line is intentionally confusing, in order to trick Macbeth and Banquo, leading to their destruction. This is also a paradox.

 

“This supernatural soliciting / Cannot be ill, cannot be good. If ill, / Why hath it given me earnest of success, / Commencing in a truth? I am Thane of Cawdor: / If good, why do I yield to that suggestion / Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair / And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, / Against the use of nature? Present fears / Are less than horrible imaginings.” (1.3.130-138).

 

Context: This quote was stated by Macbeth, to himself. He had just received a prophesy from the three witches and had been confronted by the king’s men. They tell him that he is the Thane of Cawdor, thus completing two out of the three parts of the prophesy the witches told him.

Meaning: Macbeth said: “The supernatural temptation cannot be evil, but is cannot be good either. If it is bad, why has it promised me success that turned out to be true? I am Thane of Cawdor. If it is good, why do I give way to the suggestion of murdering the king, when the image of it makes my hair stand up and my heart beat unnaturally fast. The current fears I have right now are not as scary as my horrible imaginations of murdering Duncan.”

Significance: Macbeth believes the prophesy does not seem bad, as what he was promised turned out to be true, but it cannot be good either, as he is now thinking of murdering the kind. This line follows the motif of “fair is foul, and foul is fair.” This also shows that Macbeth is violent and power-hungry. Although many believe that Lady Macbeth is most blameworthy for the murder of Duncan, Macbeth was the first to think of killing him, despite the prophesy not mentioning anything about killing. This quote contains paradoxes.

 

“Come, you spirits / That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, / And fill me, from the crown to the top, top-full / Of direst cruelty! Make thick my blood. / Stop up the access and passage to remorse, / That no compunctious visitings of nature / Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between / The effect and it! Come to my woman’s breasts, / And take my milk for gall, you murd’ring ministers, / Wherever in your sightless substances / You wait on nature’s mischief. Come, thick night, / And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, / That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, / Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark / To cry “Hold, hold!” (1.5.40.60).

 

Context: This quote was said by Lady Macbeth, to supernatural agents. She has just received a letter from Macbeth, her husband, telling of his prophesy.

Meaning: Lady Macbeth said: “Come, supernatural agents that support my deadly thoughts, make me less womanly and fill me with most foul cruelty. Thicken my blood so my body does not have any access to compassion and make me falter in my deadly purpose or make me fail in achieving my goal. Come to my breasts and exchange my milk for bile, you murdering spirits, wherever you wait invisibly for evil. Come, night, and cover yourself with the burial cloak of the darkest smoke of hell, so my sharp knife cannot see the wound it makes, nor can the heavens see through the dark and tell me to stop my evilness.”

Significance: Lady Macbeth is asking for malicious spirits to make her less feminine, as compassion and kindness was considered to be womanly traits during that time period. This is what Lady Macbeth believes her husband should be, because he is a man, but he is not, and thus Lady Macbeth considers doing the evil deed for him, as evidenced when she says “my keen knife sees not the wound it makes.” This fits with the motif that women who are not feminine are evil, as the witches were also gender ambiguous, since they had beards. Milk is also considered a nurturing and mother-like substance, and she asks for it to be replaced with bile. Bile is one of the four humors, and having too much bile was thought to have made a person angry, quick-tempered, and reactive. Blood, on the other hand, is considered to be the best humor and is associated with good. However, despite Lady Macbeth’s desire for cruelty, this quote shows that she is actually violent and power-hungry like Macbeth. Despite the fact that the prophesy mentions nothing about murder, Lady Macbeth’s mind immediately jumps to it. However, it is shown that she is more ambitious in that she is more willing to commit the murder than her husband. There is also a motif of darkness hiding evil intent, as Macbeth had asked for darkness to hide his dark desires in Act 1, Scene 4. This quote contains metaphors and personification.


Hopefully I’ll update something actually decent next time (or like, actually update lol)!

Short Story #1

Uh, well, hi. I really don’t know what this blog is supposed to be about? Oh gosh this blog is a train-wreck, I’m telling you.

Also shout-out to T who is still here despite my erratic posting times/ inactivity/ poor quality posts! Thank you for still being here! You’re great! 😀

Ok, ok um this is a short story that I wrote in this creative writing club that I’m in. It was picture prompt day and the exact prompt that I’m choosing to write about (which I can’t find) depicted a middle-aged man holding a guitar in a space shuttle. It was perhaps one of the least inspiring photos, so of course I decided to write about it (and therefore this story is bad and I apologize for it).

Joe frowned, looking at the ridiculous photo of him holding a guitar in front of a spaceship backdrop. Awful photoshopping, really. Or just a really obvious green screen background. He couldn’t really remember when it was taken, only that Danielle forced him into taking one for her new guitar lessons ad. He sighed, wondering how she coerced him into doing that again.

“You look great, Joe; stop making that face.”

“Better than in the last ad, I guess.”

“You looked fine then too,” Danielle sighed, snatching the photo out of his hand. “You always look fine. I don’t know why you’re always like this. If you didn’t want to have your photo taken, you could have just said so.”

Joe glared at her. “I took it because you wouldn’t stop bothering me about it.”

“Fine, whatever.” She waved her hands flippantly, already starting tuning him out.

“Hey,” Joe deadpanned. “Are you listening? I swear, you act like we’re still in college.”

“Thanks. Nice to know I still look young.”

“I mean you—” He gritted his teeth, swallowing the words back in his throat. “You look forty,” he said instead, somewhat out of spite. It was a low blow, sort of, against someone who cared as much about their looks as her, but hey, he could only take her… whatever it was for so long. But really, she was always like that, so was it him who changed?

She cared too much, anyway; she looked absolutely fine— full figure, decent hair, red lips— but it was a force of habit, she told him once. Leftover from when she was a child and picked on for having slightly crooked teeth and an outcropping of pimples.

She frowned, brushing back her hair almost self-consciously. “I’m twenty-six.”

“Yeah, I know, sorry,” he sighed, slightly remorseful but not nearly as much as he probably should. Didn’t mean it. Just trying to get you to listen.”

“Oh.”

There was a pregnant pause, and weren’t those supposed to only happen in high school, when everyone was going through that awkward phase known as puberty, and discovering their sexuality and all that?

Joe sighed; everything was too difficult nowadays, with the failing economy and crazy amounts of layoffs. “You think people will want guitar lessons?”

Danielle shrugged. “Who knows? Hopefully. I’m willing to try anything now. Rent’s coming up.”

“I can get you a loan, if you want.”

“And risk not paying it off?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

Danielle sighed, placing her chin in her hand. “No, it’s fine. Sorry. Just can’t believe I got laid off. I mean, it’s like you know everything’s going downhill, but you don’t think anything’s going to happen to you,

you know?” He opened his mouth, but she continued talking, so he closed it. “How’s your wife, by the way? And Sammy? She’s in preschool now, right?”

“Yeah. She likes it. Got invited to a birthday party next weekend. Kate and I are thinking of going to Bermuda in June. How your fiance? Michael.”

“Fine, he’s fine. Still has his job, but pay got docked,” she waved off his concern, “we’ll be fine. We’re always fine. Just a pain. He has to work overtime.”

“Ah.”

There is another pause. Danielle glanced at the picture in her hands, before tucking it into a large manilla folder.

“That the rest of the pictures?” He asked, nodding towards the folder. “Can I see?”

“Sure,” she said, as she handed him the folder.

He leafed through them. They were all the same, really. Plastic people with cheesy smiles holding guitars against a random backdrop of something exotic. He tried to image Danielle sitting down and meticulously photoshopping dozens of ShutterStock-like people onto crazy, color photos of otherworldly places. He couldn’t. So green screen then, probably. He wondered how she afforded it, but immediately felt guilty afterwards.

“Nice,” he said, though he thought they were all pretty awful. Not as bad as his looked, at least.

“Don’t lie,” she replied, “I know you don’t like them. You never like them.”

He shrugged, and tucked them back into the folder. “When’re you getting married?”

“Hopefully next year,” she sighed, “I don’t know. When money isn’t as tight, I guess.” She tugged the folder from his grasp.

“Oh,” he said. Another pause. Nowadays there seemed to be many. His phone buzzed, loudly, breaking the silence. He glanced at it: text from Kate. “I have to go. Gotta pick up Sammy.”

“Mmm. That’s nice. See you later. Tell her I said hi.”

“Who?”

“Both. Either. Doesn’t matter.” She gave him a half-hearted backwards wave, already tuning him out again.

“Alright,” he said, “tell Michael I said hi too.”

There was no answer, so he slipped out the door, locking it behind him.

Alright so tell me what’d you think? Constructive criticism would be helpful.

And thanks for stopping by/ reading/ commenting/ etc! 🙂 🙂 🙂

Hello, hello (again)

Hello and thank you to whoever is still here/ any new readers! It’s been a long time since I posted anything.

I’m sorry about that, and for any future hiatuses; I’ve been struggling with personal issues.

But anyway, I wanted to start blogging again, though updates will definitely be irregular (sorry!). I may also restart my fanfiction account, which I don’t think I touched for months (years?).

This blog will be about everything and nothing at all. It’ll be filled with my rambles, random drabbles, and homework help/ answers (a friend of mine jokingly told me that we should create a blog helping students with high school anatomy questions, because anatomy is the scourge of our sophomore year).

So… without further ado, welcome to “An Extraordinary Entirety” and please enjoy your stay.

“Waiting for You” Contest Submission Story

I knew, I knew, I should have started this blog in the summer. Blogging is awfully time-consuming and I just don’t have enough time and I’m just never sure what to blog about and then I put it off and forget to do anything. I’m sorry if this seems like I’m making a bunch of feeble excuses (and maybe I am) but in all honesty, I’m just an all-around horrid blogger (and a walking wreck on top of it).

Weeelllll… I won an honorable mention in this writing contest, haha. Wow. I did not expect that. I got sent a certificate and everything too. It’s not really all that great though, in all honesty. Like my writing. And winning an honorable mention, since like a hundred or two other people won too. The story I wrote called “Waiting for You” and there’s a load of tense shifts, grammar/ spelling mistakes, etc. I pasted it below, if anyone would like to read it.

~*~*~*~

Waiting for You

He should have expected it really, because to tell the truth, Grandpa was rather old now— although he didn’t look it or act it, he was nearly approaching 80— and it was a known fact that people became more susceptible to injury as they age. It wasn’t like Grandpa was invincible or something, yet somehow, Marco just never thought that something like this would happen.

It happened in early December, the 8th, a Thursday.

It had snowed the night before, but the weather had warmed up before dropping again, so instead of an elegant smattering of snow dusting the ground, the ground was covered by a layer of brownish-grey and half-frozen slush.

He was walking home— because he couldn’t live on campus since money was tight already without any extra unneeded expenses, and besides, he only lived 10 minutes away from the school— when he received the call. He fumbled with his phone, his numb fingers almost unresponsive.

He was greeted with his eccentric neighbor’s shrill voice.

Wincing, he had asked, “Do you need somethin’, Ms. Scott?”

She responded with some words he didn’t catch, and he heard someone in the background speaking.

“Hello?” he asked again.

This time, his sister Luciana had replied. “Marco?” she sniffled. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here. What happened?” Worry bubbled up in his stomach.

“Grandpa fell. We’re at the hospital.”

“Marco?”

Marco blinked back his thoughts, focusing on his little sister. “Uh, what?”

“Would Grandpa…” She bit her lip and looked down.

He sighed, “I don’t know, Lucy. I’m not a doctor.”

“What happened?” Marco stood, watching their faces anxiously, hoping that this was some sick, cruel joke and that nothing had really happened and that they could all go home and continue to live their lives.

Instead, he was answered with a choked-back sob from Lucy.

Ms. Scott steps forward. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry dearie.” She placed her bony hand on Marco’s shoulder and he resisted the urge to shake it off. “I don’t know what to say. I was walking out to get the mail, and there I saw your poor grandfather lying there on the ground. He must have slipped on some ice, the poor soul. Naturally I called 911. I was so worried and I—“

“—That’s great Ms. Scott,” he’d interrupted, “Thanks for helping my grandpa.”

“Oh, it’s no chore at all dearie,” she beamed, “I must be going now though, I’ll see you two darlings later.”

“Marco? Marco!”

What?” he’d snapped.

Lucy flinched. “Oh… um… nothing, never mind. Sorry,” she squeaked, ducking her head again, as her cheeks flamed scarlet. An awkward silence descended over the two, and Marco felt bad for yelling at her. It wasn’t her fault, not anyone’s.

“No, it’s fine. Sorry for snappin’ at you. Just, thinkin’ ‘bout you know…” He gestured to the emergency room doors, where the red sign— like the ones in a movie, that signals that Grandpa was still undergoing surgery— was still flashing. “What were you going to ask me?”

“I just… He didn’t even… It was barely 3 steps! How can he… just by falling?” Her voice rose higher and higher as she spoke.

“I guess he hit his head hard when he fell. And who knows how long he was layin’ out there…” Marco felt sick just thinking about Grandpa lying on the frigid ground, injured, maybe even dying.

From the muffled sob that escaped Lucy’s lips, he could guess that she felt the same.

“Lucy, you know Grandpa is not invincible. He’s old… so just… if anything happens…” He trailed off, not wanting to voice the thought out loud. If he did, it’d just be too finite, and besides, Grandpa wasn’t… that yet.

“Lucy! Come ‘ere!” Grandpa had shouted up the stairs, laughing heartily, “Look what you got.”

It was Lucy’s 10th birthday. The three of them, and just the three of them, had always celebrated birthdays together. Lucy had scrambled down the steps, squealing excitedly about how she was going to get something from some sort of popular new fad that Marco never really understood.

She’d leapt over the last four steps, flinging herself into Grandpa’s waiting arms. He’d spun her around, once, before she wiggled free and dashed over to the small pile of presents.

She’d torn open the presents, shrieking and laughing and thanking Grandpa profusely. He’d only laughed, bending over to ruffle her hair, and told her to bring out the cake.

Grandpa was healthy. He’d pull through. Marco couldn’t imagine life without him. He was positive Lucy couldn’t imagine life without him, either.

Impatiently, Marco stared at the glowing red sign again. He unconsciously pulled his phone out his pocket and glanced at the time. It was about a minute before he realized he and Lucy had been waiting in the hallway for over three hours. He wondered what was taking the paramedics so long. He squirmed in the hard plastic seat and glanced back at Lucy. She’d fallen asleep. He faced forward again and fidgeted. The wait was agonizing. He dimly remembered something similar happening to him when he was younger.

Marco was 9 and Lucy was 5. They were both waiting somewhere— where exactly, Marco wasn’t sure— afraid and confused.

“Where’s Mommy? Where’s Daddy?” Marco had asked, over and over and over again, until he was no longer sure what he was saying anymore.

Lucy had wailed, loud and long and she would not be placated by any of the people who came over to check on the two of them.

“Marco, Lucy,” someone had said, and Marco remembered that Lucy was so surprised that someone knew her name that she stopped crying.

“Where’s Mommy an’ Daddy?” Marco demanded automatically.

A pained look passed over the man’s— Grandpa’s, though they know it was him at that time— face. “Why don’t I tell you when we go home?”

“Home?”

“Yes.”

The sign dimmed before shutting off completely, and the door slowly creaked open.

Marco sat up straight, waiting eagerly to hear the doctor’s response. He elbowed Lucy in the side, and she shot up, looking around confusedly, before realizing where they were.

The doctor looked at the two of them, “Are you related to Mr. Giovanni Acardi?”

“Yes… I’m his grandson. How… how is he?” Marco asked, hesitantly, suddenly very afraid of hearing the answer.

The doctor looked worn and tired.

“I’m sorry.”

Behind him, Marco could hear Lucy crying.

~*~*~*~

What do you think?

An Update on Life

Happy Valentine’s Day!

So, I haven’t been actively doing anything in the blogosphere (or anything social) for a while, and you may all be wondering about that. Or maybe not. But, if you are, and like to know, I’ve been swamped with midterms, tests, quizzes, orals, and essays for school. Biology classes are the absolute worse. I wish I was exaggerating but I had just had a biology test last Friday (the 6th), Wednesday (the 11th), and another one next Friday (the 20th) So there you have it. In spirit of that, I’ll be talking about biology.

Actually no. No no no nononononono. I think I’m going slightly very insane.

Shout out to Hannah for winning Red Lettering’s short story contest! Congratulations! 😀 It feels awkward commenting on an old post but um I wanted to say something and even though I’m pretty mostly sure you won’t read this I just wanted to say congratulations for winning and your story was pretty awesome so yeah…

Anyway, happy Valentine’s Day everyone! 😀 We’ll— I’ll— be talking about this instead of bio.

So, Valentine’s Day. Um well, did anyone get candy or chocolate or flowers or jewelry? Or engaged? Yes? Well, congratulations! 😀 I’m so happy for you! (And really, I am, I’m actually not being sarcastic, I really am very happy for your good fortune!) No? Well I didn’t either, so it’s okay. Actually, I got a small box of candy hearts and skittles and then I gorged on a 32 (36?) pack of oreos. I’ll give you a virtual oreo to you too. (Unless you have allergies like one of my friend does and will die if you eat my oreos. Then you don’t get one.) Ok, I’m rambling now, aren’t I? I am a terribly incompetent blogger. Sorry. Okay, moving on to something else.

Well… My toes are freezing and I trying to discreetly cover the graphic pictures of inappropriate body parts in my health textbook with my arm as I write the mandatory outline for the chapter while also trying to multitask and write a new blog post. This is how I spend my Valentine’s Day guys. I… think this paragraph is completely unnecessary.

So um, how did you spend your Valentine’s Day?

Debate #1: Is Percy Jackson like Harry Potter?

 

 

 

 

My friend and I have been arguing about this for weeks (months).

Personally, I say no, though she is adamant that Percy Jackson is a terrible rip-off of Harry Potter.

“They both have green eyes, black hair, one parent or no parents, have two best friends— a smart girl and an awkward boy, is a “chosen one”, there is a school or camp where they live and train, they’re both half-bloods” etc, etc…

I agree, there are many similarities between Percy Jackson and Harry Potter, and Rick Riordan even admits that Harry Potter had some influence on his writings. But, this being said, the story was originally a bedtime story for his son, who had dyslexia and ADHD, and loved Greek Mythology. That was what Percy Jackson originated from. This Harry Potter influence only came into play to help get his story started. It is only the first book that had many similarities to Harry Potter; the rest are mostly original. The differences between the books outweigh their similarities, or so I believe.

But, by my friend’s logic, Harry Potter would be a copy of Lord of the Rings/ the Hobbit. Voldmort and Sauron are both called “Dark Lords”, there’s an old, wise wizard who gives advice and help, the Dementors and Nazguls both wear dark cloaks and bring despair, there’s the One Ring/ Horucruxes that make the Dark Lord mostly immortal, the old man willow and whomping willow, both Frodo and Harry are orphans, etc. etc…

See what I mean? By that logic, Harry Potter is a rip-off of Lord of the Rings/ the Hobbit (and at least Rick Riordan had the decency to admit Harry Potter had some influence over his books, whereas J.K. Rowling said that she never even read Lord of the Rings/ the Hobbit before). Every book, by that logic, would be a copy of another book. Nothing in this world is every going to be one-hundred percent original, and we should accept that fact, without having to feel the need to bash other people’s views or opinions or things or whatever in.

And in my humble opinion, I like all three series.

What do you think?

 

A Toast To The End Of 2014 And To The Start Of 2015

Before I begin:

Happy New Year! I wish you all a grandiose, wonderfilled, memorable, blogtastic 2015! And this ↓↓↓

(I don’t own this picture, just in case someone is going to try and sue me for using this)

Anyway, to celebrate both the end of 2014, and the beginning of 2015, I decided to talk about why this blog ever even came into being. This seems random, I know, but the reason behind this blog is actually very closely connected to the New Year.

I bet you’ve all been wondering about it. Or maybe you’re not. Either way, this is (not very exciting) the story:

So, my friends and I were on the bus (because yes, I ride the bus home, because even with my bus driver speeding, and he is speeding, just so you know, it takes about 20 minutes to get to my house from my school), talking about our New Years resolutions. Friend A, let’s just say, who is really loud and outspoken (and sometimes says things that are a bit mean/ rude), said “I want to be nicer”. So, like the idiot that I am, I joked, “I want to be meaner”. And then everyone was like “I want to see that.” And then, Friend B exclaimed, “I’ll give you $40 if you just stop being so shy and apologizing all the time!” And like the materialistic, money-obsessed (not really) person I am, I accepted.

And that’s about it. Yeah. And because I like money, and wanted to become assertive, I’m going to try it.

Once again, Happy New Year!

What are your (if you have any) New Year resolutions? And if you do have resolutions, good luck with them! 😀