Book review: The Phoenix

"The Phoenix" was written by Sylvia Townsend Warner, a British poet and novelist, in 1940. It is a fantasy story set after a world war.

The story is about a phoenix who is taken to a private aviary in Europe. When the owner dies the bird is bought by Mr. Poldero, the owner of a theme park, which is now the bird's new home. At first, Mr. Poldero is happy with it since many people pays to see it. But after some time the business falls because people are bored of it. Now, Mr. Poldero has t think of a way to make the phoenix popular again.

The plot is simple during the whole story until the end, when all the action happens, but the story is easy to follow. The main characters are an obvious representation of the fight between nature and human race. The phoenix, who represents nature, is a calm and quiet bird that all along the story is trapped into human's actions. Mr. Poldero, who represents human race, is an ambitious man who would do anything in orde to make money with the Phoenix.

To sum up, the story is about a great revenge and how human race abuses of nature. If you like this type of stories I would strongly recommend reading it.

Story

For the final task of the unit of L/L Writing class we had to write a short story. This story had to be, in a way, connected to the poem ''Father Returning Home'', by Dilip Chitre.

What happened, Claire Smith?

There I was walking through the crowded, cold and noisy Broadway Street, walking to Pennsylvania Station. I was going to Dover to meet my family for Thanksgiving. I wasn’t very excited about my trip, but I hadn’t seen my family for ages.
Once in the station I bought my ticket and waited at the platform. I observed everything around me but all I saw was nothing. Then it arrived, I entered, again nobody. I guess after the guard came for my ticket I fell asleep for at least fifteen minutes since we were already in New Jersey.
Now, there was a lady, but not just some ordinary lady, it was Claire Smith, the star of my favourite show when I was a kid. She wasn’t famous anymore but I was still her fan. I didn’t want her to be scared so I tried not to look at her so much but she was staring at me. Now I was scared.
I crossed the empty corridor so I could talk to her, I mean, after all, I was her fan.
I introduced myself, but before I could say anything more, I think she felt comfortable with my company, and started telling me a story. She told me she was escaping from her husband and changing her name. I was going to tell her how sorry I was for everything but she never gave me the opportunity.

We were arriving at Hoboken, but before the train stopped she had jumped. Her white coat and pale skin camouflaged with the snow. That was the last time me or anyone on Earth saw her.

Diary entry

In the class of L/L Writing we wrote a diary entry as if we were the grandmother of a poem we read in Literature.

Dear diary,
Today was a terrible day!
It started at 6am, very early because the noises next to my house were bothering very much. After having a poor breakfast I had no better idea than knitting, actually, that's the only thing I enjoy nowadays, even though my hands hurt.
Then, I went to my daughter's house to visit the only family I have. I took with me the things I knitted for my grandchildren, being sure they would love those things and the fact I'm always thinking about them.
But in the moment I arrived, all my sudden happiness disappeared. When they saw me with the bags full of handmade clothes, my grandchildren's smiles went down, they just didn't want to take what I've made for them. Neither did my daughter. They said it wasn't necessary for me to knit. I asked them why they kept telling me that, and the only thing they repeated was "Because there is no need".
That phrase made me remember my teen years, when I used to be a fisher-girl. Those were difficult times. It was extremely necessary for all of us to knit! Clothes shortages were a common thing and the only thing I could do to help was knitting.
People have changed a lot, they don't value old people like it was done in my times.
Hope next time I see them things get better.