| The first excerpt represents the element of Air. It speaks of mental influences and the process of thought, and is drawn from The Garden Party by Katherine Mansfield: key, and took it out of the lock. Took it out of the lock and held it up
to Josephine, showing Josephine by her extraordinary smile that she knew
what she'd done--she'd risked deliberately father being in there among his
overcoats.
If the huge wardrobe had lurched forward, had crashed down on Constantia,
Josephine wouldn't have been surprised. On the contrary, she would have
thought it the only suitable thing to happen. But nothing happened. Only
the room seemed quieter than ever, and the bigger flakes of cold air fell
on Josephine's shoulders and knees. She began to shiver.
"Come, Jug," said Constantia, still with that awful callous smile, and
Josephine followed just as she had that last time, when Constantia had
|
The second excerpt represents the element of Fire. It speaks of emotional influences and base passions, and is drawn from Fanny Herself by Edna Ferber: celestial searchlights. Suddenly, from the tip of each
shaft, there burst a cluster of slender, pin-point lines,
like aigrettes set in a band of silver. Then these slowly
wavered, faded, combined to form a third and fourth slender
shaft of light. It was like the radiance one sees in the
old pictures of the Holy Family. Together Fanny and Heyl
watched it in silence until the last pale glimmer faded and
was gone, and only the brazen lights of Gary, far, far down
the beach, cast a fiery glow against the sky.
They sighed, simultaneously. Then they laughed, each at the
other.
Fanny Herself |
| The third excerpt represents the element of Water. It speaks of pure spiritual influences and feelings of love, and is drawn from A Personal Record by Joseph Conrad: everyone who puts pen to paper for the reading of strangers
(unless a moralist, who, generally speaking, has no conscience
except the one he is at pains to produce for the use of others)
can speak of nothing else. It is M. Anatole France, the most
eloquent and just of French prose-writers, who says that we must
recognize at last that, "failing the resolution to hold our
peace, we can only talk of ourselves."
This remark, if I remember rightly, was made in the course of a
sparring match with the late Ferdinand Brunetiere over the
principles and rules of literary criticism. As was fitting for a
man to whom we owe the memorable saying, "The good critic is he
A Personal Record |
The fourth excerpt represents the element of Earth. It speaks of physical influences and the impact of the unseen on the visible world, and is drawn from Marie by H. Rider Haggard: Pereira alive was more dangerous to me than all the wild men and beasts
in Africa put together. Thrusting back this unworthy sentiment as best
I could, I entered the cave alone, for the natives, who dread the
defilement of the touch of a corpse, lingered outside.
It was but a shallow cavity washed out of the overhanging rock by the
action of water; and as soon as my eyes grew accustomed to its gloom, I
saw that at the end of it lay a man. So still did he lie, that now I
was almost certain that his troubles were over. I went up to him and
touched his face, which was cold and clammy, and then, quite convinced,
turned to leave the place, which, I thought, if a few rocks were piled
in the mouth of it, would make an excellent sepulchre.
Marie |
