I have made a home in the United States, but it is not quite home. For instance, i have no desire to become an American citizen. Recently, when i arrived at Boston, the immigration officer commented on the length of time ive held a green Card. A green Card is usually considered a path to citizenship, he said, a sentiment both irritatingly reproving and movingly patriotic. I mumbled something about how he was perfectly correct, and left it at that. But consider the fundamental openness and generosity of the gesture (along with the undeniable coercion its hard to imagine his British counterpart so freely offering citizenship as if it were, indeed, uncomplicatedly on offer, a service or commodity.
50, my, home, essay, topics, titles examples
Its hard to see how the milder, unforced journey i am describing could belong to this grander vision of suffering. Not going home is not exactly the same as homelessness. That nice old boarding school standby, homesickness, might fit better, particularly if allowed a certain doubleness. I am sometimes homesick, where homesickness is a kind national of longing for Britain and an irritation with Britain: sickness for and sickness. I bump into plenty of people in America who tell me that they miss their native countries Britain, germany, russia, holland, south Africa and who in the next breath say they cannot imagine returning. It is possible, i suppose, to miss home terribly, not know what home really is anymore, and refuse thesis to go home, all at once. Such a tangle of feelings might then be a definition of luxurious freedom, as far removed from saids tragic homelessness as can be imagined. Logically, a refusal to go home should validate, negatively, the very idea of home, rather in the way that saids idea of exile validates the idea of an original true home. But perhaps the refusal to go home is consequent on the loss, or lack, of home: as if those fortunate expatriates were really saying to me: I couldnt go back home because i wouldnt know how to anymore. And there is Home and a home. Authors used to be described on book dust-jackets as making a home: Mr Blackmur makes his home in Princeton, new Jersey.
The achievements of exile are permanently undermined by the loss of something left behind for ever. Saids emphasis on the selfs true home has a slightly theological, or perhaps Platonic, sound. When there is such universal homelessness, of both the forced and the unforced kind, the idea of a true home surely suffers an amount of unsympathetic modification. Perhaps saids implication is that unwanted homelessness only bears down on those who have a true home and thus always reinforces the purity of the origin, while voluntary homelessness the softer emigration i am trying to define means that home cant have been very true. I doubt he intended that, but nonetheless, the desert of exile seems to need the oasis of primal belonging, the two held in a biblical clasp. In that essay, said distinguishes between exile, refugee, expatriate and émigré. Exile, as he understands it, is tragic homelessness, connected to the ancient year sentence of banishment; he approves of Adornos subtitle. Minima moralia : Reflections from a mutilated Life.
We might even stay there for a few years five lined at the most? I have now lived 18 years in the United States. Its a bit feeble to say i didnt expect to stay that long; and ungrateful, or even meaningless or dishonest, to say i didnt want. I must have wanted to; there has been plenty of gain. But I had so little concept of what might be lost. Losing a country, or losing a home, if I gave the matter much thought when I was young, was an acute world-historical event, forcibly meted out on the victim, lamented and canonised in literature and theory as exile or displacement, and defined with appropriate terminality. It is the unhealable rift forced between a human being and a native place, between the self and its true home: its essential sadness can never be surmounted. And while it is true that literature and history contain heroic, romantic, glorious, even triumphant episodes in an exiles life, these are no more than efforts meant to overcome the crippling sorrow of estrangement.
How then can they fail to be invincible and inaccessible for others? To have a home is to become vulnerable. Not just to the attacks of others, but to our own adventures in alienation. I left my home twice the first time, just after university, when I went to london, in the familiar march of the provincial for the metropolis. I borrowed a thousand pounds from the natWest bank in Durham (an account I still have rented a van one-way, put everything i owned into it, and drove south; I remember thinking, as I waved at my parents and my sister, that the gesture was. In this way, many of us are homeless: the exodus of expansion. The second departure occurred in 1995, when at the age of thirty i left Britain for the United States. I was married to an American to put it more precisely, i was married to an American citizen whose French father and Canadian mother, themselves immigrants, lived in the States. We had no children, and America would surely be new and exciting.
Essay on my sweet home in hindi
In my memory this is exactly what happened: the radiance of the music, the revelation of its beauty, the final cadences of the tallis, and my happy glimpsing of my mother. But it happened 37 years ago, and the scene has a convenient, emily dream-like composition. Perhaps I have really dreamed. As I get older I dream more frequently of that magnificent cathedral the long grey cool interior hanging somehow like memory itself. These are intense experiences, from which i awake hearing every single note of a piece of remembered music; happy dreams, never troubled.
I like returning to that place in my sleep, even look forward. But real life is a different matter. The few occasions I have returned to durham have been strangely disappointing. My parents no longer live there; I no longer live in the country. The city has become a dream. Herodotus says that the Scythians were hard to defeat because they had no cities or settled forts: they carry their houses with them and shoot with bows from horseback their dwellings are on their wagons.
I had a piano teacher who used to talk about the most familiar musical cadence in which a piece returns, after wandering and variation, to its original key, the tonic as going home. It seemed so easy when music did it: who wouldnt want to swat away those black accidentals and come back to sunny c major? These satisfying resolutions are sometimes called perfect cadences; there is a lovely subspecies called the English cadence, used often by composers like tallis and Byrd, in which, just before the expected resolution, a dissonance sharpens its blade and seems about to wreck things and. I wish I could hear that English cadence again, the way i first properly heard it in Durham Cathedral. I was 11 years old. During the lesson, we choristers had been exchanging notes, probably sniggering at one of the more pompous priests the one who, as he processed towards his stall, held his clasped hands pointing outwards from his breast, like a pious fish and then we were.
I knew the piece but hadnt really listened. Now I was struck assaulted, thrown by its utter beauty: the soft equanimity of its articulation, like the voice of justice; the sweet dissonance, welcome as pain. That dissonance, with its distinctive tudor sound, is partly produced by a movement known as false relation, in which the note you expect to hear in the harmony of a chord is shadowed by its nearest relation the same note but a semitone off. As the tallis was ending, i saw a middle-aged woman with a canvas shoulder-bag enter the shadowy hinterland at the back of the huge building. Standing so far away, a singular figure, she might have been a tentative tourist. But i knew the full bag, that coat i always wanted to be a bit more impressive than it was, the anxious rectitude of my mothers posture. She came every tuesday afternoon, because the girls school she taught at got out early then. My parents lived only a mile or so from the cathedral, but I had to board; tuesday afternoons, before i went back to school, gave me the chance to exchange a few words, and grab whatever she brought in that bag comics and sweets; and.
Essays, college Application, essays, my home
Let's end on a romantic note, which i am afraid is linked with tragedy. When a young couple decide paper to get married, everyone wants to know when the wedding will be that's when "they name the day". This is what one of the most famous young couples in history wanted to do romeo and Juliet but tragedy intervened because they both die before this can happen. And it all had to do with names. They both came from different families the montagues and the capulets, who were deadly rivals. And here i have to revert to my favourite poet, william Shakespeare, who in the words of his hero romeo has him say that names are not important and need not divide romeo and Juliet: "What's in a name? That which we call a rose. By any other name would smell as sweet.". Alan Townend, dear Friend, If you have any questions or comments regarding this essay, please post your answers on the forum here: What do they call you?
But then that's what happens in politics "that's the name of the game" that's the central thing about that kind of profession. Magic plays a part in these expressions, too. Some presentations people are universally respected and their name alone evokes all kinds of favourable feelings. It can be in sport, in show business or indeed in manufacturing. This is said to be "a name to conjure with" and when you mention it, everyone is impressed. And on the negative side of this that very name can be used in a disrespectful way very often in religious contexts where the leader of a religion is spoken of in an abusive way and that's what we call "taking someone's name in vain". This expression can be found in the English translation of the bible: "They were punished for taking the lord's name in vain".
get well known for your great ability or success. If an actress has been applauded not only by audiences but also by the critics, she is said to be "making a name for herself". There are those who love to impress others with the people they know or have met. They possibly know that famous actress well they know someone who knows her but they like to give the impression that they know famous people and like to mention these names in the course of a conversation. This harmless pursuit is known as "namedropping". I once had a conversation with a previous Prime minister of the uk when he visited the college where i was the deputy principal and couldn't resist telling people about this whenever I could. That gentleman is now out of favour and people have started "calling him names" (being rude about him) and so i don't mention him at all now.
And that's the funny thing about names. We tend to associate a particular personality with a specific name although we could be completely wrong. A celebrated case in point concerns a certain Dr Mudd. The American President Lincoln was entry shot by a man named booth, who broke his leg trying to escape and got medical help from a country doctor called Samuel Mudd. Mudd was quite unaware what booth had done and gave him appropriate treatment. The next day he informed the police and despite his ignorance of the assassination at the time, he was arrested, convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment. Fortunately he was pardoned 4 years later but the poor doctor's name has gone into the language and to say to someone: "Your name's mud" (the extra "d" has now disappeared) means that you have a bad reputation. "To clear your name" is to prove that you were not involved in a crime of which you were accused. This finally happened to our doctor friend Samuel but not until the 1970's.
Short essay on home sweet home