Colleen King

Ms. Romano

4 AP English, Per. 5

23 May 2014

Detach, Unplug, and Enjoy

Living the lap of luxury with well-tailored suits, lake houses, and money at one’s fingertips seems like the perfect life. These worldly items provide the satisfaction of a high-status appearance but lack the essential element to happiness-- a connection to nature. As people obtain the latest and greatest objects, the hunger for social status begins to trump the desire for interactions with nature that bring about true contentment. Although large checks and social media make humans feel a surge of fulfillment and relation to others, human pleasure cannot last without letting go of consumeristic matters to spend time playing in and learning from the natural environment. In her novel Song of Solomon, Toni Morrison exhibits this truth by sending her main character, Milkman, on a journey that strips him of material objects in order to demonstrate that engaging with nature heightens inner happiness, benefitting well-being. Milkman falls into the capitalistic trap of believing that money provides elation as he journeys to find the gold that his aunt, Pilate, left in a cave years ago. But by the end of his trip Morrison switches his craving for wealth to a thirst for ties to Mother Earth through the deprivation of a few covetous trinkets.

In his journey to the gold-containing cave, Milkman passes through a town where women walk without purses and men retract from those with the “entitlement” of money. When Milkman hunts with the townsmen, Morrison takes away his reliance on temporal objects by removing his three-piece suit and replacing it with military gear and mud-caked boots. She even dismantles his pride by having him sit down to rest while the others howl at, run through, and listen to the woods. While he rests, he comes to the revelation that, “There was nothing here to help him-- not his money, his car, his father’s reputation, his suit, or his shoes. In fact they hampered him… His watch and two hundred dollars would be of no help out here, where all a man had was what he was born with, or had learned to use” (Morrison 277). His rest also helps him understand that the townsmens’ odd howling and actions were, “Language in the time when men and animals did talk to one another, when a man could sit down with an ape and the two converse” (278). In this moment, Milkman comprehends that his “valuables” prevent him from engaging with his surroundings and tries, “to listen with his fingertips to hear what, if anything, the earth had to say, and it told him quickly that someone was standing behind him… (279). By erasing his egotism and possessiveness, Morrison transforms Milkman from a boy blinded by greed to a man who values the knowledge nature holds and shows that ease comes from the innate not the material. Milkman never feels happy during his wealthy upbringing, but when he learns the simple joy of communicating with nature, he finds inner peace. In this novel Morrison showcases that looking past earth-bound desires to learn from nature brings about lasting merriment. Even today’s leading writers and researchers have found that interactions with nature and its contents result in higher levels of bliss just like Milkman achieved.  

Milkman views nature through a man-made lens, which he exhibits when he states, “Woods always brought to his mind City Park, the tended woods… where tiny paths lead you through” (Morrison 250). Milkman’s childhood exposed him to a tamed nature that never prepared him for the unkempt wilderness. In his book Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature Deficit Disorder, Richard Louv presents that today’s children play in a similar manipulated environment by asserting that, “Not long ago summer camp was a place where you camped, hiked in the woods… today, “summer camp” is a weight-loss camp, or a computer camp” (2). Louv highlights that children idolize but do not participate in the nature-bound experiences their parents had and begin to ask, “‘Dad, how come it was more fun when you were a kid?’” (1). He uses his book to reveal that, just like Milkman, children attain happiness when they drop their attachments to at-home entertainment and technology to roll in the mud like their parents did. Not only do children relax when they spend time playing in nature, but all of humankind benefits from nature-centered activities.

In his article “In Touch With Nature: The Benefits of Pagan Spirituality,” Gene Sager describes the relaxation he achieves in witnessing the burning of Zozobra, an annual Pagan ceremony for releasing human worry and anxiety. Sager’s experience with nature mirrors Milkman’s in the sense that it opened his, “ mind and heart to the deeper and broader realities beyond everyday perception… these celebrations helped me let go of the mental habits that can tie me to a narrow and worrisome grind...” (Sager). Both Milkman and Sager participate in an observances that do not involve material items and feel a contentment that only comes about through intertwining with the natural world. Milkman’s revelation of the importance of contact with nature is even supported by an Australian study that states, “neighborhood well-being was positively related to a range of natural features, including species richness and abundance of birds, and vegetation cover” (Luck, Davidson, Smallbone, Boxall). When humans re-focus their attention on natural luxuries found in the environment, like Milkman does, their lives fill with a greater satisfaction that material items cannot provide.

Whether humans take a walk through a park, celebrate nature-based practices, or live in animal and plant-filled surroundings, they live stronger and healthier lives. Milkman’s journey emphasizes that in dropping absorption in possessions and prioritizing time to spend with the planet, humans lose the anxiety that work, school, and bills bring and achieve peace.

Works Cited

Louv, Richard. Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature Deficit Disorder. Chapel Hill: Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill, 2005. Print.

Luck, Gary W., et al. “Relations between Urban Bird and Plant Communities and Human Well-Being and Connection to Nature.” Conservation Biology 25.4 (2011): 816-26. Print.

Morrison, Toni. Song of Solomon. New York: Penguin Group, 1977. Print.

Sager, Gene. “In Touch With Nature: The Benefits of Pagan Spirituality.” Natural Life Jan. 2014: 24-26. Print.

Collage Explanation

I designed this collage to display the theme of the necessity of connecting to nature in order to achieve lasting happiness in Toni Morrison’s Song of Solomon. I decided to use bite-sized pictures of  humans and various forms of technology in the center to make them insignificant compared to the nature that fills the rest of the piece. By placing the humans and technology in the center rather than dispersed throughout the collage, they become isolated, which I use to represent the narrow-mindedness coupled with focusing on the momentary satisfaction technology brings. Throughout the rest of the piece, I used larger pictures of humans engaging with animals and exploring nature to represent the importance of human contact with nature. The plants, animals, and scenery surround every inch of paper because I wanted nature to be the focal point of this piece. My collage is a reflection of the wonders of nature that humans can learn from if they power-down and go out to enjoy a day in the environment.

Dear Students,

A month or so before the AP exam, Ms. Romano assigned what seemed like a boat-load of work revolved around my reading of a book of my choice. She told us to choose books wisely as they had the potential to help with the open-ended question on the AP exam in May-- she could not have been more right. I read Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison and found myself swept away into the intricate lives of Milkman, Pilate, Macon Dead, Ruth, The Seven Days, and so many other rich characters. Two days before the exam, as I sat at my dining room table reading this book, I noticed that the main character Milkman, starts to lose many of his material possessions while traveling to get a stash of gold and thought, “Morrison is doing something here.” I found that as Milkman lost more possessions, he became closer to nature until  he finally communicated with it. This became the basis of both my third essay on the AP exam and this project.

Our country’s materialism has always been something that has bothered me. I have never been able to understand why unemployed people walk around with the newest Samsung Galaxy 3, why children need Ipods to be happy, and why Walmart can’t pay its employees more. As I read Morrison’s masterpiece, I marveled at the way she destroyed materialism in Milkman. This destruction opens Milkman’s eyes to the fact that the simple pleasures found through connections to nature are the only means of true happiness-- an idea that has been reiterated to me throughout my entire life. I chose to make the idea of materialism vs simplicity the golden thread of my final independent reading project. Each piece either reflects a human’s materialistic desire for profits and power, or demonstrates how humans connect with elements of nature. The piece on wealth and the letter from Macon Dead exhibit the way many people think that happiness is achieved-- through earning money. The collage and scene isolate consumeristic matters in others and present nature-centered imagery to demonstrate the wonder of nature that humans engage in when they open their eyes to broader perspectives. The culmination of these pieces argues that humans need to drop their devices and enjoy nature in order learn about the lasting merriment and contentment that nature brings.

I will admit that I was nervous about starting this project because I am not that great of a creative writer. The project ended up being a lot of fun because I enjoyed thinking of the concepts I wanted to present through the eyes of the characters. I also loved doing the research on how my topic relates to the world around me as I do plan to be a scientist and enjoy learning new information. In doing this research, I realized my motives for doing well in school have been to get into a good school, get a good job, and make money. Having this brought to my attention made me rethink how I will approach school work in the future and made me motivated to find a career that makes me happy, not makes me money. All in all, this project has been an insightful journey that I hope brings new perspectives to others.

Sincerely,

Colleen King

Wealth

Wealth lives on a private island off the coast of Madagascar. On rainy days she strolls through her florier, admiring the original Birth of Venus she swindled out of a museum curator's hands. She sips martinis and nibbles caviar while listening to Moonlight Sonata. Wealth lives a life of ease and confinement. She never plays in the mud, or forgets her manners, or socializes with trailer-trash Rowdy. No, no Wealth is conservative and reserved-- a lady.

Wealth  manipulates the naive with promises of happiness she doesn’t intend to keep. When her friends ask her for advice, she tells them, “Go get a few more diamond rings and you’ll feel much better.” You see, Wealth strives to be friends with Power. In middle school, Wealth sat in wonder while Power stood over little 6th graders, commanding them to give him their lunch money and the cupcakes their mothers baked with love. She admires Power’s ruthlessness, envies his entitlement. Wealth believes the more money she hones, the closer she and Power will become. When Truth and Altruism ask her to put her money towards underprivileged schools and environment-sustaining projects, she sticks up her nose and snickers in their faces. “I don’t throw money towards causes that don’t benefit me,” she sneers.

Wealth is blind. She lost her sight in her late-twenties after severing friendships and family ties for a PhD in the money-making degree of Law. Her glance sweeps by the hungry faces of the homeless men who sit outside of her office. The garden in her backyard with a mini replica of the Buckingham Fountain represents her view of a simple pleasure in life. Nature is dirt and grime that soil her pleated skirts.

Wealth doesn’t pay taxes. She embezzles and bribes to snatch tax-payers’ money. The only loyal relationship she maintains is to Capitalism and Mass-Production who feed her, clothe her, pay for each pair of of her shiny Jimmy Choos. It’s a nice life, an easy life, a life that keeps her manicured hands free from chips.

But in the end, Wealth is lonely. When she dies, no one mourns her loss. They move on to the next big investor. All she brings with her is the wrinkles the Estee Lauder face cream no longer covers, saggy boobs, gray, scraggly, unstraightened hair, and regret.The pearly gates tower before her and a soft voice whispers, “What did you do that was meaningful?” Wealth looks back at the world she left and drops her head. With a nod to the gentle voice above, she shuffles to the steps leading to a burning pit of fire, where she incinerates for the rest of eternity.

Dear Lake Shore Realities,

I am writing you in a request to purchase the land on Honore Island. My goal is to build vacation and luxury homes for black men to purchase. Although you typically reserve your services for white sellers, I guarantee profits higher than any other company can offer. The homes I will build will only be available to the wealthiest black folks. I do not tolerate late payments on mortgages and do not give loans to those who need extensions to pay their debts. No one will live on Honore without paying the full price.

This vacation spot will have a town square filled with restaurants, cinemas, clothing stores, and other tourist attractions not only for the use of the residents, but families who wish to come up on the weekends. The woods will be paved to make hiking trails and campsites for people to park small trailers and pitch tents for a nightly fee. There will be various aquatic centers that provide paid activities to do on the lake such as jet skiing, canoeing, fishing, and more. My builders and I will use every inch of land, woods, and water you provide to us to obtain a profit. Residents living in the homes on the island will also pay a monthly association fee to keep up the scenery. A quarter of the profits made by the downtown businesses, aquatic centers, and campsites will go to your business, although I am willing to negotiate this number. Your company’s name will also be engraved on every business’ door to let the residences know of your generosity to help us create this town.

This business plan will bring in a range of customers that no other company has. No other company has the guts to accept the black man’s willingness to buy their land and has lost a great deal of profit because of it. After seeing this magnificent vacation spot, I guarantee the black community will continue doing business with you. This project offers you the chance to sweep up a customer base will put your company’s revenue above any other. I leave the choice between race and earnings to you, but I hope you take advantage of this bankable opportunity.

Thank you for your time and consideration. I look forward to doing business with you.

Sincerly,

Macon Dead     

Hunting Scene in Calvin’s perspective p. 271-281:

I guess this young wealthy man came into town and started some sort of fight with Saul. Small Boy hasn’t stopped talkin’ about it since I picked him up. He says there were knives and broken glass and that the man wore a three-piece suit and asked where to buy a new car. Must be nice to up and buy a car whenever you please. Small Boy says the man comes from a wealthy family up North. I’m sure this man is just lost and confused; never got the sense of how to communicate with the other half of the world.

I park the car in King Walker’s lot and see the man, his three-piece suit, and a bit of fear in his eyes. He ain’t never hunted before. Shame.

“This is Calvin Breakstone and Small Boy,” Omar declares when we approach.

“Pleasure to meet you both. I’m Macon Dead.” Small Boy nods.

“That’s quite the name. Must be nice havin’ a name with some meanin’ to it. Nice to meet ya,” I reply.

“Calvin, get this city boy some shoes for his feet,” King Walker says as he looks for some guns. I run to the back and guess about a size eleven. There’s a few pairs of clean boots, but those ain’t gonna do him no good out there in the woods. He looks new to huntin’ and I don’t expect him to get along too well while we’re up there. May as well give him Omar’s old boots so he don’t ruin the nice ones.

When I come back, the boy looks about ready for battle. Everyone’s goofin’ around with his fancy clothes. Small Boy looks like an idiot tryin’ to fit into the man’s tiny jacket. The men gave Macon an old military suit from God-knows-where. He seems even more frightened now. Poor thing.

He slips off his old shoes. Boy, I’ve never seen feet so beat up before. Tore up skin, hangin’ off all loose. Blisters everywhere.

“Boy, you can’t go hunting with feet like that,” King Walker says. “Here sprinkle this Arm and Hammer on them real good and put them socks on.”

After the man finishes dressin’, King Walker opens the beer. Thank God. Can’t have a good hunt with my throat feelin’ dry. I slug mine down real quick while King Walker hands the boy a beer and his Winchester .22. I bet that man never held a gun in his life. He looks like he don’t know what to do with it. I just hope he don’t lose control and shoot one of us.

From behind me I hear,“Common, Calvin. Let’s go.” Time to see what this man can do.

We pile into my Chevy. King Walker sittin’ next to me with Luther by his side, Small Boy and Omar in the back, with Macon in the middle. Small Boy keeps teasin’ Macon about the tiny jacket.

“Leave the boy alone, Small Boy. You just too fat from eatin’ all the coon we got last week,” I say. I look back and see Macon looking out the window. He wants the trip to end.

“ ‘Course I ate it all. I shot it all; I deserved it. Best coon I ever tasted. Plump too.”

“We would’ve had more too if I hadn’t missed that deer,” King Walker replies. “Man that one looked so big, could’ve made dinner for the whole town.”

“It’s alright, man. You gonna get a good one tonight, I can feel it. Night’s clear, wind ain’t blowing too much. It’s like that night we went near the Virginia border and came back with enough deer, coon, and possum to last the whole week.”

“Ya, I remember,” Omar replies. “Same trip I hit two coons with one bullet.”

“Only good shot you ever made,” I tease.

The boys laugh and continue to reminisce as I steer the Chevy up the windin’ hill. Some headlights are following us, but it’s probably just Saul or some of the other guys from town, wantin’ a chuckle outta a rich black boy huntin’.

“Better make time, Calvin. Coon be done ate and gone home.”

I pull over. King Walker and Omar spring out of the car. “Let ‘em rip,” I tell Small Boy and hand him the keys to the trunk. The hounds leap out and begin sniffing.

“You brought Becky?” asks Luther. “Oh, man! We gonna get some coon tonight!”

The dogs look more and more anxious to get into the woods as Omar and Small Boy unload the trunk and Luther gives his gun a final cleanin’. Macon looks petrified. From the side of the car I watch him starin’ out to the forest, ponderin’ how he will get out, what lies ahead, if we are gonna shoot him. His eyes are wide and hands in fists. Looks like a breathin’ statue. Catch myself lookin’ like a statue too just gazin’ over at him.

“Ay, Macon! You wanna use a lamp or a flashlight?”

The poor kid hesitates. Doesn’t know what’s good for him out there. Wonder why a grown man like him ain’t never been in no woods before.

“He can run with me,” I say as I walk toward him. “Give him a torch.” At least I can spare him from some of the humiliation he’s gonna experience in there. “And take that change out your pocket. Makes too much noise.” I don’t need to be dead tonight just because this guy has got money to spare.

We all take a swig of liquor and I load my shotgun with .22 shells. Small Boy claps his hands and the dogs charge forward. I stay still and listen to where the dogs say to head. In the darkness, the only things I can trust are those dogs’ voices, my men’s howls, and what the earth has to say. A light breeze passes. I know Becky is in the lead before Small Boy even has to say it.

“Calvin, you and Macon go off to the right. We’ll head this a way, and circle over by the gulch. Don’t shoot no bears, now.”

I smile. “Shoot him if I see him.”

As we move out Macon turns on his flashlight.

“Better save it. You don’t need it now.”

I hear the dogs gettin’ further along in the woods and move.

“Any bears out here?” I can’t help but chuckle at how cool Macon’s tryin’ to be. He’s anxious. First time in the woods is scary, no doubt about that. Sad that this grown man never experienced the woods, talked to the woods, felt the woods. Nothin’ gonna hurt him if he just talks to Mother Nature.

“Just us, and we got guns.”  

The darkness calls to me. I walk ahead a bit. The trees are so still, peaceful. The silence takes me away, quickens my pace. Good ol’ Ryna’s Gulch breaks the silence. Ryna must be missing her husband a awful lot tonight. Maybe hopin’ in the clear night he’ll fly back to her.

The dogs have stopped their screamin’ and so have the men. It’s me and the night now. The wind picks up and sloughs through the trees. Macon stumbles behind me.

I’m losin’ my way to the game. I stop at a tree. Feeling the light I throw on its rough bark, the tree speaks in its soft voice. Assuring, safe, it will protect me. I trust the whispers it tells me and continue on to the game ahead. After a few moments, the dirt calls to me. I can’t help but answer its rich voice.

“What is it?” I whisper.

“Bigger game ahead, son. Trust your instincts and you’ll find it.”

I continue on.

“What the hell is that?” Ah, Ryna’s gentle weeping. Feels almost like a song after huntin’ here for so many years. Reminds us townsfolk of sorrow and freedom.

“Echo. Ryna’s Gulch up ahead. It makes that sound when the wind hits a certain way.” I know that wind is Solomon callin’ back to her. His voice whisper, “I’m sorry,” every time the gulch moans.

“Sounds like a woman crying.”

“Ryna. Folks say a woman named Ryna is cryin in there. That’s how it got the name.”

There’s a rustle in the wind. “Hush!” I say to Macon. The dogs call out, “A bobcat!” Shit! I knew somethin’ was wrong when ol’ Ryna began her sobbing. I send out a whistle hopin’ that the men send a message that it was just a scare.

“Son of a fuckin bitch!” Luther’s whistle is too faint. He’s keepin’ quiet to avoid detection from a beast. “Bobcat! Come on, man!” We gotta move. All I got is my gun and a man who’s never shot a thing in his life. Heck, he’ll shoot me before he shoots the bobcat. This is what I get for lookin’ out for a man lost in the South. But I can trust the earth to guide me. It knows the way and can take me there if I listen. Each step I take, the ground guides me to a clear spot, keeps my stride steady and constant. Earth’s gonna keep me safe tonight. I shout for the men, prayin’ the coast is clear. Small Boy’s ee’s tell me to hold off a little longer. The men and I are one in these woods. Each tree connects us. They’ll know if we’re in danger and will come to rescue us. It’s funny how I never feel completely in danger in the woods, not even when a bobcat could swoop out at any moment.

I bend down to touch the soil, feel where the bobcat prowls. He’s still close. I need to make it to the men. It must’ve been about two hours or so since they signaled that the bobcat was near, but I want to put some good distance between us and that cat.

“Unh unh unh.” It’s Omar, tellin’ me to come join them. I send out a long “yah,” to find out where he is. The dogs softly bark and I follow, thankin’ the trees on the way there for their protection. The mens’ lanterns shine through a small openin’ in the bushes and I ease my way out of the branches, so as not to scare them.

“Where’s Macon?”

“What?” I turn around. He is no where in sight. “He was trailin’ behind me, honest to God. I must’ve been walkin’ too fast for him to keep up. The poor kid’s never been huntin’ before. I’m sure he’s just restin’ on a tree stump somewhere.”

How could I have been so stupid as to let him out of my sight? The boy don’t know a thing about nature and won’t stand a chance out there without someone who knows the woods inside and out. God, I hope the bobcat don’t catch him.

“Well, come on.” Omar says. “It ain’t gonna do us no good standin’ around here waitin’ for him to find us. We’ll go back the way you came, Calvin.”

I take the lead, racin’ through the trees, touchin’ the bark, rememberin’ where I came from. Bang. Jesus, the kid’s shot somethin’. We run faster only to meet Macon, runnin’, horror-stricken. It’s like he’s just seen the ghost of his dead grandfather or somethin’. There’s blood and scratches on his neck. That scratch ain’t come from no animal in this woods. Man’s got a secret.

We all take a few more steps ahead and wouldn’t you know the first-timer shot the damn bobcat! The creature is sufferin’, though. I send the dogs to finish him off. No use in lettin’ a majestic creature like that spend the rest of his days in pain cuz a gunshot wound. Better off dead. Can’t hurt us that way neither. Sad when beautiful beasts die from a man’s mistake or fear.

Somethin’ is different in Macon’s eyes now. When he fell behind, he finally listened to what nature had to tell him. There’s peace in his eyes, the relief of not only being safe, but having a connection to the world around him. Someone, not something tried to kill him, but he listened to the Earth and he’s alive. Even the other men see it and don’t ask a question. We just walk back to the car, carryin’ the bobcat, talkin’ about dinner for the next week. Macon walks a few steps behind us. He’s listenin’ again. Tryin’ to hear where the woods will guide him towards. Man can’t no better mentor than the one that lies beyond the boundaries of civilization. Glad Macon sees it.

Colleen King

Ms. Romano

4 AP English, Per. 5

9 May 2014

Post #2

As I walked home from the beach after sitting there for an hour finishing Toni Morrison’s Song of Solomon, the only thoughts that could come to mind were, “Wow!” and “Incredible!” First of all, I could not have picked a better spot to sit and read the magnificent end to Morrison’s masterpiece, and secondly, I could not have chosen a more difficult book to chose a topic to do research on. In my first post I had an idea of researching the Civil Rights Movement and its effect on literature, but after reading the last three to four chapters of this novel, I just don’t know what to do. Morrison brings up so many deep and touching topics in the close of her novel. One of the topics that grabbed my attention and I even used in one of my AP exam essays is the idea of human’s innate communication with nature that they ignore to focus on material matters of money and selfish desires. Morrison has the main character Milkman go on a quest to find gold that his father and aunt left in a cave that they stayed in after Milkman’s grandfather was shot. As he progresses through this journey, Morrison strips him of his well-tailored suit, covers him in mud, and finally has him surrender his pride during his journeys through different woods. Milkman grew up surrounded by a nature manipulated by man to be convenient and pretty for their liking. His father paved pathways in the forests near the lake houses he owns to give his tenants a picturesque escape, but this forest is not the forest nature intended it to be. When Milkman must find his own way through a natural and unmanipulated forest, he finally sees the wool that has laid over his eyes for his entire life. Milkman realizes that he has never had contact with true nature because of the fantasy world his father created through his riches. This epiphany helps him to see the connection to nature he has missed out on as he sits to rest after a long night of hunting. He understands and sees the value in the in-born communication with nature that makes humans connected not only with each other, but with plants, animals, and elements. By stripping Milkman of his material possessions, Morrison emphasizes that this communication with nature is the key to the true happiness and peace that humans strive for. By the end of his journey, Milkman forgets about his pursuit for gold and ends up seeking information about his family’s past, leading him to a revelation that made my jaw drop as I closed the book.

After discovering that material matters don’t bring peace and happiness to the human race, he decides to continue looking for pieces to unlock the secrets about his family’s past kept from him for his whole life. In the end he finds out that his great grandfather, Solomon, flew away to his home in Africa and left behind every burden that bound him down. Flight is a motif that appears over and over again in this novel and takes a great hold upon Milkman. Since his childhood, Milkman feels depressed at the fact that he cannot fly and is bound to a family who doesn’t love him and to a life free from his own independence. While listening to children singing a song about a man named Solomon flying away, he discovers that his great grandfather flew away and that he and all of his other family members have this ability too. The burdens of life no longer bind him, an idea that sends Milkman into an ecstasy. Morrison ends the novel with a gorgeous quote that resolves her motif of flight by stating, “If you surrendered to the air, you could ride it” (337). This quote is just a beautiful culmination of what her novel is all about, surrendering one’s attachment to their problems and desires and conflicts to live in the peace nature intended. Morrison executed conveying this theme along with various other themes relating to love, friendship, and connection to the past in a way that made me eager to tell people about this book and tell them to read it. Her execution also made me curious to see who would dare to criticize this ground-breaking piece of genius. I am now thinking of writing a literary analysis essay, like the one we did for second quarter, to tear down anyone who dares to challenge the art Toni Morrison creates in Song of Solomon. I could go on and on about this book, but I won’t and will end with simply saying that this book has become my favorite piece of literature I have read so far and I want to defend/qualify its mastery through this project.