The author John D. Fitzgerald had an interesting life that connected to the book that he wrote, The Great Brain. Here are some similarities that Fitzgerald had in his childhood with The Great Brain’s (Tom’s) childhood. Tom is the name of John D. Fitzgerald’s father. Also, Tom is the middle son in the book, also known as the Great Brain. John’s family lived in eastern Utah, like in the book, and had a farm with three horses. One horse was actually named Brownie, but in the book, John Fitzgerald replaced the horse with a dog named Brownie. Fitzgerald was also busy doing his chores along with his brothers like in The Great Brain, and they had their fair share of chores. After they did their share of chores, they could play or do what they wanted. The kids always went to school, like in the book, until they got the measles which meant that they had to stay quarantined until they got well. I am assuming that Fitzgerald wrote this book to tell fun stories based on his life. John D. Fitzgerald’s life didn’t always feel animated for him, so he wrote books to make his life more sparky.
Trusting in Ambitious Hybridity: America, Nature, and Relationships
Matt Weiland and Sean Wilsey, editors of State by State: a Panoramic Portrait of America, were caught up in the beauty of the cultures of each state and the “simple American virtues: the essential looseness of American lives, the vitality and variety of American vistas, the cut and jib of American talk”. In preparation for putting this book together, the more they talked about the states, the more they wondered about each state‘s “particularities and idiosyncrasies, their prejudices and biases” and even their “beauty marks, moles, . . . cadences [and] jokes”. The project had been done before as well; they wanted to replicate the State Guides from the Federal Writers’ Project during the Great Depression which “documented the forty-eight states of the time in unprecedented detail and with great charm,” featuring literary figures from the Harlem Renaissance such as Ralph Ellison (Invisible Man), Zora Neale Hurston, Arna Bontemps and Richard Wright (Native Son); and other notable figures including Jack Conroy (a Leftist writer known for his literature about American workers), Conrad Aiken (Pulitzer prize winning poet), and Wallace Stegner (a Pulitzer prize and U.S. National Book Award novelist). The State Guides Series is a magnificent collection of writings from the 1940s about different topics and stories about the essayists’ respective states that only the denizens know.
In searching for the best state to review in State by State, I was intrigued by Kevin Brockmeier’s essay about Arkansas, and how fractious people can be within a state. Brockmeier recounts his days as an eighteen-year old senior at Parkview High School in Little Rock – a school that was “a haven for dancers, actors, painters, misfits, hipsters, skaters, straight edgers, band geeks, boys with makeup and girls without” – which to put it simply, was a high school with a variety of unique individuals. The most stand-out object which seemed to mentally colonize the state of Arkansas, at Brockmeier’s point of entry in his essay, were “thousands of green bumper stickers with white letters reading ‘Speak Up for Decency’”… and no one was sure of its origin. This was 1991. Not long after, a response to the green bumper stickers that were popping up everywhere emerged: yellow bumper stickers with the same template, “but this time reading ‘Speak Up for Liberty’”. A battle erupted between the two bumper stickers, and it seemed as though more cars sported the green ‘Speak Up for Decency’ stickers, cars with the ‘Speak Up for Liberty’ stickers would typically sport more than one.
As one delves into the origins of the two groups, one finds that the ‘Speak Up for Decency’ stickers originated from the Fellowship Bible Church, while ‘Speak up for Liberty’ originated from the newspaper Spectrum Weekly. By comparing the two groups, one would find that they were exactly on opposite sides of the conflict – Decencies were religious while Liberties were secular; Decencies were concentrated in the western new-growth regions of Little Rock while Liberties were concentrated on the eastern, older neighborhood; “Decencies were bothered by profanity, homosexuality, and the building immodesty of American Culture” while “The Liberties were bothered by repression, censorship, and the bullying sanctimony of American culture”. The two groups were also different in their confidences and distrusts. Eventually, the conflict between the two groups got so out of hand that even the letters in the editorial pages of the Arkansas Democrat and the Arkansas Gazette became a heated battleground between the two contrasting factions. By the time Brockmeier left the city of Little Rock for college, the two factions were ubiquitous in Little Rock, but “by 1997, when I [Brockmeier] returned home, they had begun to vanish from the automotive landscape”. Brockmeier wonders: “Could it be, I wondered, that all our disagreements are destined to end this way, blanching out and wearing away at the edges?”
Years later (apparently when he was on assignment from Weiland and Wilsey), Brockmeier has not seen any signs of the old dispute, so gets excited when seeing a new sticker: “it read, ‘Speak Up for Puberty.’ Here, finally, was a cause we could all support”. Isn’t it decent for the boy to put away boyish things, and is it not a liberation to leave home finally?Brockmeier is trying to express that Arkansas and maybe even the United States as a whole, is a state and country of many disagreeing opinions, but eventually everything fades away, and it’s important to realize that there are things that could bring the people together.
Another state that interested me was West Virginia where Jayne Anne Phillips wrote about nature and “the land, so mountainous and intransigent, so verdant and densely forested as to be nearly uninhabitable”. The land is beautiful, with “the Appalachian Mountains isolat[ing] a thousand years of paradise for animals, flora, fauna, all fed by interlacing rivers and countless clear streams that ran from the highest elevations to the deepest valleys”. Yet, because the land is a “paradise” there will always be conflict in defining it as such. European settlers started arriving like bears attracted to honey, and countries from all around Western Europe ran for a share of the pie: “the land was territory”, the why and wherefore of conflict. Later on, conflict ensued in West Virginia once again. South Carolina’s Fort Sumter being fired upon started the war, and Virginia seceded from the Union while, in 1863, western Virginians declared independence from Virginia, wrote a State Constitution, and joined the Union; families were split, sons against fathers, brothers against brothers, and conflict arose once again. West Viriginians regard this epic struggle as a part of their identity. To Phillips, West Virginia is a state about mountaintop mining, immobility (denizens don’t move around much), and the exotic: “the primeval, virgin expanse of the mountains was once unknown, unimaginable, [until] Western eyes cast into its depth and majesty and threat”. If born and raised in West Virginia, it’s a place you can never forget, and one can always reminisce about “the feel and smell and mind’s eye image of a narrow road in summer, a dirt road or a paved one, boarded by woods and fragrant weeds, overhung with trees, twisting deeper”. All of the events that have happened to West Virginia over time have made it different and unique. Likewise, all of the events that have happened in the United States as a whole, and during its formation, have established our collective identity.
Vermont’s motto can be seen on its license plate: Green Mountain State. Alison Bechdel had lived in a variety of places, central Pennsylvania, the Twin Cities, New York City… and she finally arrived in Vermont. The first thing she did immediately after arriving from the airport was to visit the summit of Camel’s Hump, where one can see the verdant trees and silvery lakes at peak season. In her graphic essay (one of two in State by State – the other is by the cartoonist Joe Sacco on Oregon) Bechdel asks what makes Vermont so compelling to her. Is it “the supramundane perspective afforded by a summit” or is it because “[her] grandfather herded goats as a boy in the Austrian Alps?” Bechdel can relate Vermont to an early childhood memory of hers when she first watched The Sound Of Music; when watchingthe classic film, she was amazed by the “vertiginous mountainscapes [that] are forever fused with [a] strange feeling that the androgynous ex-nun induced in [one]” (she is a lesbian). Vermont’s rolling green hills are reminiscent of those high peaks – in addition to… no Nazis.
Vermont can be characterized by its founding hero, the legendary Ethan Allen. He was a man who had the tireless courage to defend his home state and the United States as a soldier fighting against the British. Now, Vermont can be tiring as well, since “winters in Vermont are long”. Bechdel’s neighbors even continue to live in “stone walls and cellar holes of old hill farms” while she herself despises having to shovel the inches of snow every year. She can’t imagine living among those green hills if she was the one farming within them and suffering long hard winters every year. Despite the hardships in Vermont “it’s the place, of course, that binds [Bechdel] to these people”.
I enjoyed reading John Jeremiah Sullivan’s essay about Kentucky. Sullivan writes about a lesser-known polymath: the legendary Constantine Samuel Rafinesque. Rafinesque was born in Constantinople, Turkey (now known as Istanbul), which was the influence for his name. He was a self-educated genius, an autodidact who wrote extensively on the topics of anthropology, biology, geology, and linguistics, but was not honored by any of these subjects during his time. He was “curiously named by Darwin in On the Origin of Species as a forerunner in the study of evolution”, as the closest thinker to grasp the ideas of natural selection decades before the book was published; he is hailed as “the father of American myriapodology (the study of many-legged bugs)” and he “invented the word ‘malcology’ (the study of mollusks)”. He even “[wrote] an open letter to the Cherokee warning them that they would soon be forcefully moved to the West, a full decade before it happened”.
Today, Rafinesque’s legacy is recognizable through his identification and naming of many many animals, and even the genus Rafinesquia (a genus of flowering plants in the dandelion family) was named in his honor. Rafinesque had the true heart of an explorer. He desired to trek the vast wilderness of early 19th-century United States, and in 1802, declined Dr. Benjamin Rush’s invitation to study medicine under him, so that he could be free. Rush was a signer of the Declaration of Independence and the first great American physician, but Rafinesque wanted to explore like Lewis and Clark and their Corps of Discovery.
To Rafinesque, the earth was “an organized animal rolling in space” which “had been arranged for him to be present and correctly positioned at this moment, just as a continent of taxonomically pristine vastnesses offered itself to science”. He was simply infatuated with the land. “I pant to explore,” said Rafinesque. He was sent to Philadelphia to be tutored by savants under President Jefferson’s command. It’s hard to imagine what could have happened if Jefferson had agreed to let him join Lewis and Clark; if Rafinesque was able to document all of what he desired from the tall Appalachians to the roaring Pacific Ocean, he could have discovered new landmarks, animals, and languages, and he could have proposed new ideas way past his time in botany, geology and other scientific topics. If Rafinesque had made this journey, perhaps he would be more of a household name.
Broke, Rafinesque had no choice but to sail to Sicily, and even when he was given another opportunity by Jefferson to map the Red River in the Northwest. By the time he got the invitation, his ship had already set sail, and he could only reply with ‘sorry’. America missed him, and his betrayal was heartbreaking to America: “by America, I mean the land. It had called to him. He had not come”.
Rafinesque spent a decade in Sicily, starting a family there and trying to accomplish as much as he could on this small island. Eventually, Rafinesque was pulled back to America as its beautiful nature called out to his eager spirit, and he went to find the great John James Audubon, the man notable for documenting and drawing all of the birds of America. Rafinesque longed to see Audubon’s paintings, already well known among the learned.
The meeting of the two was at first awkward, but their ideas and astonishment for each other overshadowed it. Rafinesque’s eyes had shone bright with satisfaction – he perhaps thought, Finally! I have sailed over oceans for this moment. In 1818, Audubon accepted Rafinesque’s help, since he was keen on having the assistance of such a unique individual capable of a multitude of tasks. The two embraced the others’ ideas and identities. However, Rafinesque’s eight-year period in Kentucky is “coincident with the onset of mental degeneration.” And it was: and his genius grew. His genius grew as his errors and embarrassments multiplied. During this period of time, Rafinesque was writing his masterpiece: Ichthylogia Ohiensis or Natural History of the Fishes Inhabiting the Ohio River and its Tributary Streams. Rafinesque saw the Chillicothe Mounds, “earthen monuments raised on the landscape by hundreds of generations of Native American builders,” which astonished him and which he studied extensively. Today, there are few places in Kentucky (mostly family farms) where one can find these raised land sculptures, half in the fields and half in the forest. Rafinesque and Audubon spent three weeks together, which Audubon writes about in his Ornithological Biography, in the chapter covering his time in Hendersonville, KY.
The relationship of the two famous scientists can be compared to the relationship of our two great statesmen: John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, or famous painters Gauguin and Van Gogh, or fairy writers J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, or inventors Thomas Edison and Henry Ford. Audubon laid before Rafinesque his drawings and was open to comments and criticisms, and both benefited; Audubon was able to improve his understanding of the surroundings beyond the images he saw, and Rafinesque was able to see vegetation and species he had never seen before. Their relationship continued to improve, and Audubon even got the Frenchman to drink brandy and hunt with him, though Audubon recalls “Rafinesque had shot a bird once and never got over the ‘cruelty’”. Audubon and Rafinesque’s relationship can be at times like childhood friends finally enjoying a long talk after being apart for some time, or that of a teacher and student, as Audubon himself remembers listening to Rafinesque’s ideas “with as much delight as Telemachus could have listened to Mentor”. The two would joke in French and English, stare at the massive trees and the stars that hung beyond them, and get flabbergasted at all of the wilderness and animals around them.
The end of their meeting was abrupt as suddenly, one night, Audobon woke up to the sound of incessant banging – it was Rafinesque, bashing at bats, which were eating specimens… with Audubon’s prized Stradivarius (which to a violinist myself is heartbreaking)! It was later revealed that Rafinesque was afraid of the death of the bugs, for he thought they were a new species, but they were only common insects. Rafinesque vanished following this incident, embarrassed by what he had done; he mentions his meeting with Audubon to be consisting of only three days instead of weeks, but Audubon remembers that “we were perfectly reconciled to his oddities”. Sullivan’s Kentucky truly brings out the wilderness of America. America is a beloved country, where people are free to enjoy the stars to their desires and communicate with the land around them. Rafinesque’s story recalls a man’s contagious love for America, for he could never escape her grasp.
Kentucky is a unique state; it shares the industries and factories of the north, and the fields of tobacco and some of the vegetation of the south. Though the modern times have changed Kentucky, the Bluegrass State has a distinct agrarian stamp that endures. The two largest cities alone, Louisville and Lexington, are home to only 20% of Kentucky’s population, making it one of the more rural demographics in the lower 48. Kentucky could even be defined by its numerous contrasts, which make it unique, such as its vibrant, lush fields of the Bluegrass region, or the destitute poverty-stricken Appalachian regions, or the network of caves that riddle the state (Kentucky has the most caves of any state). The state is home to the rich and the poor, advanced modern cities and countryside towns, areas filled with undulating fields and forests as far as the eye can see, and high buildings replacing those vast fields.
Kentucky is a state situated in the middle of the north and the south and was during the Civil War era, a state that was the hotbed for the Abolitionist movement and sadly a chief marketplace for slaves to be used in the south. Kentucky voted to become a Union state and like West Virginia, families, cousins, fathers and sons split in joining the Confederacy and the Union.
To locate modern Kentucky, one only needs to trace a line going from Ashland, through the cities of Lexington and Louisville, along the Western Kentucky Parkway all the way to Paducah. From the northern side of that area lies the Ohio River, an area of concentrated population and industrial growth. This area of Kentucky is so industrialized, it’s hard to remember the classic alluring greenlands. In the city of Ashland, the Ashland oil corporation is the nation’s 35th-largest industrial corporation and is on the Fortune 500 list. However, the most sparkling region of all would be the Bluegrass regions. It’s hard to find better land in the world to nurture livestock. In Kentucky, one can find hundreds of horse farms with the finest racing horses grazing on the quiet grasses surrounded by white fences.
Imagine driving your newly acquired motorcycle crossing the Ohio Bridge from Cincinnati, and upon entering Kentucky, you find yourself situated on a long road stretching ahead through the vast land, and you feel like an explorer starting a long journey; would you find that the undulating countryside was giving you an almost nautical experience of riding up and down great green rolling waves of grass, with the blue sky shining off of the green grass, expertly nibbled to a lawn-look by an elegant thoroughbred horse?
State by State characterizes the United States through the perspectives of a variety of states. Every state is unique and special and represents a part of America. Sullivan’s Kentucky brings out the wild frontier of the early Americas by profiling an engaging and passionate autodidact who was in an interesting relationship with Audubon – and that the ambitious hybridity of the United States is revealed and expressed through America’s great natural landscapes and regions.
First off, to put it out there, Miss Bianca is a very special mouse, physically and socially.
The resourceful and independent Miss Bianca
She has ermine white fur, which is unusual, and something even more special is that she has big brown eyes, while other white mice have pink or black eyes.
I am surprised that she is not snotty and self-entitled: instead, Miss Bianca is a polite little lady, and very empathetic. Most people or mice, after living in a fancy pagoda (especially the Porcelain Pagoda) without any worries except to help their master with his arithmetic problems (the boy), would get at least a little bit spoiled! Miss Bianca though, is as deferential and courteous than the other mice, and definitely even more!
Even so, shifting from the Porcelain Pagoda to the Mouse Prisoners’ Aid Society is tremendous. It’s similar to royalty mixing with common people, from riches to rags. However, Miss Bianca handled this change a lot better than a queen would handle it. I can just imagine the queen staring in disbelief at the servants mooching around the unwashed dishes in the sink and throwing a furious tantrum.
After reading the beginning of The Turret, I think that this point in life is probably very confusing and crushing for Miss Bianca.
First, she didn’t really want to resign, so she was hesitant to sign the resignation letter, but after thinking about helping the boy and writing her volume of poetry, she decided that she was obligated to stay in private life. Following this, at her retirement party she discovers someone who is being held prisoner in the old turret. Because of her nature, of course Miss Bianca wants to rescue this prisoner. After that, she realizes that this prisoner is Mandrake, an evil man who was cruel and pitiless to the poor Patience, so Miss Bianca is conflicted about whether to rescue him or not. Finally, she decides that it is her duty to rescue prisoners, even if they are vile, even though she knows that Mandrake was “completely odious.” So she announces it to the Society, but everybody hates Mandrake, so not a single mouse wants to rescue him and some hissed at Miss Bianca. This probably humiliated her and damaged her ego, because there is no doubt that she had never had this type of social problem in her life.
Miss Bianca might also be annoyed at Bernard. They have been great friends with each other for a length of time already, but when Miss Bianca wants to rescue a prisoner, Bernard turns his back on her, leaving her to do everything by herself.
She is getting her character tested differently now, in working alone. In the first two books, she had to be brave, quick, and cunning, working with other mice to rescue the prisoners. Now, she hasn’t gotten to rescue the prisoner, but is trying to be able to rescue him. Miss Bianca has already gotten put down horribly. Her determination to rescue is tested, and so is her inner strength. Also her independence. Miss Bianca must think to herself: Well, since they won’t help me, then I won’t use their help. I can do this!
Each of America’s 50 states holds a share of differences from its neighbor and these differences are what makes each state special, such as Hawaii’s geography being great for a tropical holiday, while Colorado’s geography is great for skiing and hiking, while Pennsylvania had its importance in the American fight for independence in housing the temporary American capital while Wyoming had its importance in, uhh, does anyone know? As Matt Weiland says, “the crowning achievement of the Federal Writers’ Project was the creation [American Guide Series]” and this State by State: a Panoramic Portrait of America (2008) is a modern version of the state guides written because of the Federal Writers’ Project. The Federal Writers’ Project is what the modern, stay-at-home American in the 1940s could use to travel around America, as when, in the 60s, John Steinbeck and his dog Charley served a similar need.
During the Great Depression, the Federal Writers’ Project was put in place to jumpstart the failed American economy by giving people jobs. The American Guide Series was created and featured detailed guides collected from authors, some notable, such as Steinbeck and Eudora Welty. State by State: a Panoramic Portrait of America is one such guide created by Matt Weiland and Sean Wilsey, whose essays are written by famed authors, journalists, comic strip editors, reporters, some examples being Jacki Lyden, Paul Greenberg, Anthony Doerr, Tara Bray Smith, and William T. Vollmann. This collection features 50 famous authors and their interactions with each state, whether they were born there, or had their childhood memories there, or went on a memorable trip there.
Rick Moody is an author working as a professor in Brown University. He wrote many famed works such as The Ice Storm and Garden State, all reflective of his youth spent in the Northeast region of America, with The Ice Storm set in New Canaan, a town that he spent his high school years in. In State by State, Moody is the author tasked with writing about Connecticut, known as the Nutmeg state or Constitution State. Mr. Moody lived in Fairfield County during his youth, and his essay takes the reader for a tour up the scenic Merritt Parkway, a turnpike that is found exclusively within Fairfield County that he holds high esteem for. However, despite the true beauties of this turnpike, Moody’s essay is littered with flashbacks to his youth that I find disgusting, such as the fact that kids in the 50s, 60s and 70s often took drugs, consumed a lot of cigarettes and thought highly of sex. My only assumption was that back in the 50s, 60s and 70s, people smoked cigarettes as a sort of harmless pleasure until the Surgeon General discovered a correlation between people who smoke and people who get lung cancer. Lung cancer was once a very rare form of cancer and smoking greatly increased the number of lung cancer patients. In 1969, the Feds passed a law issuing all cigarette boxes to be required to display a warning label. This is an important, almost essential action of responsible governance, which is what I esteem about Connecticut’s role in early American history: innovative governance.
Connecticut was founded in 1636 as a Puritan colony, stemming from a repression of the English anti-Anglican faithful, which resulted in certain English Separatists called Puritans (led by William Bradford) to defect from the motherland in an awe-inspiring effort, after being brutally suppressed by the Church of England. These Separatists fled Britain to the Netherlands, and had to make efforts to save money and prepare to conscript a ship, worthy and hardy enough to make the great voyage. Then they had to travel back to Plymouth, England after almost a decade to board the Mayflower. The Separatists landed in modern-day Cape Cod, November 11, 1620, and founded the Colony of Plymouth. Years later, the Pilgrims founded the Colony of Connecticut after the English defeated the Dutch in the Second Anglo-Dutch War (1665-1667) and a large part of modern-day Connecticut, New Jersey and New York were given to Britain. The formation of Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1629 still did not satisfy, and a band of settlers, led by the Reverend Thomas Hooker, trudged south of the mighty Connecticut River and settled in modern-day Hartford, and in 1635, Connecticut split and formed its own colony.
The Reverend Thomas Hooker was a clergyman born in Leicestershire in 1586, in England. He studied at Dixie Grammar School. Hooker eventually studied at Queens’ College in Cambridge and Emmanuel College. Hooker was renowned for being an excellent speaker and became a lecturer. However, Hooker was also a Puritan sympathizer which resulted in his persecution by the English Church and the English Government. He fled to Rotterdam in the Netherlands, considering a position in a group that wanted to reform the English Church, but decided to immigrate to Massachusetts Bay, arriving onboard the Griffin at Plymouth Colony on September 3, 1633. Hooker left Massachusetts and founded a settlement in Hartford. When Connecticut County was founded, Hooker became active in politics.
Connecticut Colony was formed by the unification of New London, Springfield, Windsor and Hartford Counties. Connecticut increased in size after the English defeated the Dutch in the Second Anglo-Dutch War (1665-1667). The Reverend Hooker went on to participate in writing the Fundamental Orders of Connecticut, which many regard as the very first written constitution in the New World. Guess what Connecticut’s nickname is? Wow, you’re right – its the Constitution State!
The Colony of Connecticut eventually collected more colonies. New Haven Colony was added, and then Fairfield County was bought from New York. In 1640, grain became scarce and resulted in the settlers having to buy corn from the natives. The natives refused to sell the corn at what the settlers called reasonable prices. Eventually, the leaders of the trade deal bickered with each other, leading William Pychnon to feel resentment towards the Colony of Connecticut, who was unable to supply the people of Springfield with food. Eventually, Springfield broke away, leading to a small conflict between Springfield and Connecticut’s emerging counties. Finally, in 1642, Massachusetts Bay Colony got involved and drew a border, incorporating Springfield as its own. Connecticut, being (at the time) economically reliant on Boston, did not lift a finger against the new border.
One of Connecticut’s most significant contributions to the American government was Roger Sherman’s proposing the rules, in 1787, for the two bodies that made Congress: a larger, more powerful two-man-per-state body called the Senate and a less influential body based on population called the House of Representatives. This compromise was a mixture of the Virginia Plan (representatives for a single population-based body) and the Delaware Plan (senators for a single two-man-per-state body). This piece of history is what I see as the pride of Connecticut – its history means more to me than what happens with the dissipated children living within the state. The history of Connecticut is something that Moody skips over, which is a complete shame, as Connecticut has a long history and had great importance in the development of America as a nation.
The name Connecticut comes from an Algonquian word meaning “long tidal river”. This is because one of the most obvious features of Connecticut is a long river that goes from Canada all the way to the Long Island Sound. The Connecticut River is an important feature of the Northeast as the river provides fertile soil for growing crops and houses many people by its banks. The city (and capital of Connecticut) of Hartford is located by this river. Historically, the fertile soil surrounding the Connecticut River saw tension between Connecticut Colony and Massachusetts Bay Colony, resulting in Massachusetts’ 1642 seizure of Springfield from Connecticut Colony.
Connecticut, for me, is a small state that has many good things, such strong industries, beautiful cities, good agriculture and great railroads. It is located in the Northeast, a place where the climate is not warm enough to produce crops like cotton, necessitating strong industries to maintain a healthy economy. However, the soil is fertile enough to support mass amounts of agriculture (only producing these crops: apples, oats, barley, wheat and broadleaf tobacco). Many people commute to New York City for work as it is quite close and provides far more job opportunities for a growing population. Therefore, the railroad company Metro North’s New Haven Line is one of the nation’s busiest railroad lines, trailing not far behind other railway companies like New Jersey Transit and the Long Island Railroad, which operate commuter trains to New York City as well. The amount of wealthy businessmen living in Connecticut makes Fairfield County, the county I live in, boast one of the highest GDP per capita in the state and even in the nation, especially as it contains many very wealthy towns, with Greenwich, New Canaan and Darien being chief examples. Something that vexes me about Moody’s essay is that he sheds such a negative light on New Canaan and Darien. He describes the schools as if one must get Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after they leave the education systems in these two towns. Although I know nothing about growing up in New Canaan, growing up in Darien has been fun and easy, knowing that walking the hallways is always peaceful, knowing that there is no major illicit drug activity in the school, knowing that the other students often feel uncomfortable talking about sex or any related activities, knowing that you will always have support if you’re feeling weak on a subject.
However, Darien is not perfect. Like with every school, there are activities that lead one to question the integrity of the school. During the Darien High School midterm exams of 2020, there came a scandal where the answers were leaked out and many students read the answers. The teachers found out about this and refused to release the exam scores for history. In the end, all the students of my grade had to re-take their exams. There is also the issue of parties. Since Darien is a very competitive town in terms of sports, the teams like to celebrate. As a result, someone could bring alcohol and lead to what could have been a small party with just a sports team to a massive one featuring underage drinking and even trading cannabis. Speaking of drugs, there has been a surge of vaping found in the school, with teens puffing on odd electronic devices. The teachers are yet to catch a student vaping, but the evidence usually lays in the vape devices floating in the toilets, generating an odd smell.
Rick Moody does a great job at describing the Merritt Parkway for its beauties compared to other highways around America and it is hard not to see why. The Merritt Parkway has subtle undulating stretches, is not a long straight road with occasional curves, and utilizes a barrier of natural terrain rather than a barrier of boring old concrete. This sets it apart as a local beauty from other highways, especially neighboring I-95. Because of the amount of commuters, I-95 in Connecticut is known locally as the highway that has traffic jams all the time. In addition to giving us insight about the beautiful road, he also does an excellent job at providing the reader with the historical background of the parkway, doing a good job at painting a strong mental image through detailed description of the parkway: “Exit 28, among the first of several exits in Greenwich (where the Merritt begins), takes you off the parkway at Round Hill Road. That’s the street on which you will find, nestled among the estates, the legendary Round Hill Club, golfing destination of choice in Fairfield County and a summer spot for relaxation for the affluent of Greenwich when they’re not summering on Nantucket or Martha’s Vineyard”. This description of the many attractions near the Merritt Parkway can make anyone see that Greenwich is a very affluent town (one of the wealthiest in America). That is because the high housing prices in New York and the low income tax rates for the wealthy in Connecticut have attracted many business executives to Connecticut as a place of residence.
However, the beauty of the Merritt Parkway can not live up to just how much Moody overlooks important locations in Fairfield County. Moody ends up praising Greenwich only for its affluence. He travels up the turnpike and skims over Stamford, which is a very important city that holds a lot of industry, history, people and jobs. He then turns to the towns of Darien and New Canaan and fills the reader in with a nice talk about his childhood years. One fact that I learned about Moody’s view of Darien was that he viewed school life in Darien as something completely foreign. In characterizing his experience at Darien’s schools, he remarks: “For example: Jewish kids! I didn’t even know what Jewish meant”. Moody then goes on to a ramble about these two Jewish kids who taught him all he needed to know about sex. After he leaves Darien, he goes to New Canaan, where he just calls it “the worst years of [his] life”. This is because of how the children of Saxe Junior High use the homophobic word “fag” to tag anything they didn’t like, such as “being bad at gym”, “being good at school, especially in subjects like English and Math”, or simply being “bad at shop”. If there was anything that I would find slanderous to the two towns New Canaan and Darien, in my experience, it would be that they are monolithic or homophobic, respectively, which is obviously something that no longer happens nowadays, either because of how much the teachers have forced the students to be accepting to people of all genders/races, or because of the amount of immigrants that have come to the Northeast to study in its many Ivy League schools, most of which are regarded as top in the world.
There’s one other missing portion to Moody’s essay that is very significant. Moody does not mention any other county other than the one he grew up in, and apart from the Merritt Parkway, there are no major geographical features mentioned. Connecticut has eight counties: Fairfield County, Tolland County, Middlesex County, New London County, Litchfield County, Windham County, Hartford County and New Haven County, and each holds a significance to Connecticut’s development. Some counties even hold significance in the development of America as a nation.
New Haven County houses the largest city in Connecticut and was once an independent colony until it was absorbed into Connecticut. New Haven County’s seat is … can you guess? New Haven. New Haven is a port city, the second most populous in Connecticut. It was a growing city that almost reached the potential of New Amsterdam (New York City) and Boston, but disaster struck. In 1646, New Haven loaded a ship full of their local goods, filled to the brim, ready for a long journey to Great Britain. However, the ship never made it to Britain, denying the city money needed to increase its size. Despite this, a major early landmark in Connecticut’s education system was the founding of Yale College. Yale was created in 1701, providing Connecticut with a school to educate clergy and civil leaders. However, this has since changed as Yale expanded into the many other arts. The Congregational church (which was the dominant religion in the United Kingdom and all its overseas dominions) dominated religious life in the colony and, by extension, town affairs in many parts. New Haven was important in the Industrial Revolution, as it was the place where Eli Whitney patented his cotton gin. Samuel Colt patented his namesake revolver in the same factory that Whitney had made the Cotton gin. The Colt Revolver featured a 6-cylinder barrel that fired 6 bullets without reloading (all other guns could only hold 1 before needing to reload), and was used by the American Cavalry in the Mexican-American War (1846-48). This industrialization would eventually lead to the creation of the Gatling gun, predecessor of the modern day machine gun. New Haven’s long history and technological advances were extremely important in the development of America as a nation and are unheard of in Moody’s narrative of Connecticut.
The first county founded in Connecticut was Hartford County, founded initially as a city along the Connecticut River. The city of Hartford is among the oldest in America, founded by Reverend Thomas Hooker (mentioned above) and a bunch of settlers who did not enjoy life in Massachusetts. In 1814, the Federalists, who supported George Washington and John Adams, discussed New England’s possible secession from the United States. Hartford the city, was the place where leading figures of the abolitionist movement and women’s suffrage movement rose. The abolitionist movement was founded in 1833, with major speakers like Frederick Douglass, and the Connecticut Women’s Suffrage Association, although not as prominent as Seneca Falls Convention, helped ratify the 19th amendment, which enabled women to work the same jobs as men.
Middlesex County was created in 1785 (after the formation of Connecticut as a state) from portions of New London, Windham and Hartford County and is part of the region known as Greater Hartford. The county sports multiple geographical landmarks that contrast it from its industrial neighbors. The county boasts two protected wildlife reserves. An attraction located in Essex for tourists is the Connecticut River Museum, a former steamboat dock that educates the people about maritime science and environment conservation. The museum features a full replica of Turtle, the first American submarine. The submarine looks like a wooden wine barrel with a rudimentary periscope; there’s a hand-powered propellor for locomotion and a rudder for steering. It also has a mine stored in a small, detachable structure outside the main barrel.
Litchfield County is a county that is part of the New York City metropolitan area, like Fairfield County. It was created by a contract which annexed land from the counties of Hartford, New Haven and Fairfield. The county includes the city of Torrington, which holds historical significance. Torrington is located by the banks of the fast-moving Naugatuck River; Frederick Wolcott built a textile mill capable of high-powered action there in 1813. As a result, Israel Coe and Erastus Hodges created two brass mills, booming Torrington’s brass industry. In 1849, the Naugatuck railroad opened, destroying the isolation the town had faced previously, which was absorbed into the booming New Haven Railroad. In 1923, Torrington became a city. Litchfield County, home of the river-powered textile mill, became a key player in the American Industrial Revolution.
New London County was one of the counties that aided in the founding of Connecticut Colony. It was dominated by a tribe of natives called the Pequot before the English colonized the land. Today, the Pequot tribes remain in New London, living alongside the immigrants. New London houses the port city of New London and the port village of Mystic, both home to many attractions. New London was considered a key deepwater port during the American Revolution. It was attacked by Benedict Arnold as an attempt to prevent George Washington and the Comte de Rochambeau from attacking Yorktown. Later, during the War of 1812, the coast off of New London was the location of an attempted torpedo attack on the HMS Ramillies, which the captain retaliated to, by threatening to burn every town near the coast. Eventually, the port was used for submarines during World War I. Mystic, on the other hand, was a village founded on the bank of the Mystic River. Due to being built near a river, Mystic was primarily supported by agriculture. However, Mystic’s biggest industry has been its tourism industry, with attractions such as the Mystic Aquarium and Mystic Seaport being among the most popular.
Tolland County is a county located to the east of Hartford County. Tolland County is small, rural with its largest town (Vernon) with a population of less than thirty thousand people. The county houses the New England Civil War Museum in Rockville (now incorporated in Vernon). Inside the New England Civil War Museum is a collection of several hundred items from the Civil War, containing artifacts like sabres, drums, weapons, etc. The museum also contains a library that holds 1000 volumes of works written during the Civil War. There were five reunions (between 1892-1920) held in the Grand Army of the Republic Hall, located within the museum. They were all reunions of Union divisions that fought during the Civil War. This museum is an attraction that holds great historic importance in letting people relive the Civil War and see the weapons used by soldiers back in the day. Although small, this museum is the biggest point of attraction in Tolland County.
Windham County is the most northeastern county in Connecticut. The land was purchased by John Winthrop, founder of Massachusetts Bay, from the Narragansetts, a tribe of Native Americans, in 1635. Eventually, the land was broken up between Massachusetts Bay Colony and Connecticut Colony, and was formed out of Hartford and New London Colonies, and in 1749, Connecticut annexed a part of Worcester County from Massachusetts and added it to Windham County. However, Windham County would lose towns to its neighboring counties as Middlesex County was carved using land from Windham and towns were gradually given away.
All eight counties were important to Connecticut, and some being crucial in America’s development as a whole. Moody’s essay on Connecticut in State by State puts more emphasis on his nostalgic trip down the Merritt Parkway, and into the depravities of his youth, rather than providing an in-depth analysis over Connecticut’s history. To him, having a history of greater 300 years is apparently inferior compared to his childhood memories all located within a small section of Fairfield County, but to be fair, perhaps he didn’t consider that audience would be Connecticut teens like myself.
Oh no, oh no, no please! Aargh! My owner, Josh, stepped into me. Apparently, we were going for a walk. I hate, absolutely hate, when Josh leaves the house because that means I have to go with him and be stepped on for hours and hours. He always wears socks with holes, which means I can feel his cold, smelly feet against my body. If you can’t tell, I am a left foot shoe and my name is Kenny. My friend, Benny over there, is Josh’s right shoe. We have been together our entire life and it all started when a tall, brown-haired young man bought us from Dick’s Sporting Goods…
and took us home. We are black and red Nike shoes with a black Nike swoosh, size 11. Josh lives alone with his two crazy dogs, Blue, a golden retriever and Moose, a Muddy River dachshund. Moose and Blue love chewing on me and Benny and Josh never seems to mind, he just slips me on carelessly (even though I have a chunk missing from my collar, and the lining is coming out, and the damage extends almost all the way to my moustache). Although Josh lives alone, trust me, his house is always a party. Let me tell you, he’s got a lot of friends. Then one day, Benny and I ended up in the trash. Let me tell you all about my crazy adventure. It all started when Josh had about ten of his friends over.
“It’s so loud in here,” I told Benny.
“Kenny, we are already used to this by now.”
We were placed by a wall right besides the door, where Josh always puts us. That day, a Saturday, so many people were coming in and out, toting coolers for soda and beer, and the door was left wide open. I could tell Moose was eyeing the open door, looking back and forth between it and I. Moose carefully nudged Blue who had been peacefully asleep. In a flash, I was in Moose’s slobbery mouth with my mudguard down, while Benny was in Blue’s mouth, grabbed by his heel notch, and we were racing out the door and down the street.
“Kenny!” Benny yelled, looking over, covered in Blue’s saliva.
“I’m here!” I yelled back to Benny. The sun shone bright in my eyelets and beat down on us. We raced down the street and past the town houses into the middle of town where all the shops were filled with customers and the street was busy. Blue and Moose did not stop for them, however, dodging a black truck and then a red jeep. In the middle of the road, Blue and Moose ran as fast as lightning and we were heading to the busiest street in town. That is when I realized we were heading for the dog park, the worst possible place there could be for Benny and me. We raced down Main Street and cars were honking like crazy, swerving to get to where they were going.
About 20 feet away was the gate to the dog park and I saw Benny and Blue racing towards the closed gate. I closed my eyes and yelled “WATCH OUT!!!” hoping they would stop before crashing into the gate. When I opened my eyes, I saw Blue taking a humongous jump; he leapt right over the fence without a problem! However, Moose was slowing down and we were stuck outside the dog park, where the satanic odor was immediately perceptible (I have a sensitive tongue). “Benny!” I yelled.
Just as Moose and I were about to head off down the sidewalk, a golden doodle and its owner swung open the gate, not even noticing Moose at all. With an excited dash, Moose flew into the dog park, catching up to Blue in a split second. Darn it.
“Kenny! You made it! I’m so glad I’m not alone anymore!” yelled Benny, held by only a corner of his heel, his laces dragging dangerously near the soiled ground.
“Well, now you don’t have to get chewed on all by yourself,” I replied, rolling my eyelets at him.
At the sight of a tennis ball, Moose opened his mouth and just left me sitting there, unwatched, and before I knew it, two bulldogs were sniffing and licking me all over. Soon came a cockapoo, a small puppy who sat on me. Even worse, a brown lab and a chocolate lab came racing over and before I knew it, they were taking a bathroom break right on top of me. “Ewww! Benny! Help!” I yelled. No answer. Then two dogs came and sat on me because of the smell of the labs’ bathroom gunk. I have got to get out of here, I thought to myself. Surely, Josh would have realized both his shoes and dogs were gone, right? I hoped so.
“We will be here forever!” I yelled at Benny who was halfway across the dog park. Only about several minutes later, when I was feeling like I wouldn’t make it out alive, the dog park gate swung open again. Moose came back and bit me on my vamp, right where the dog had peed on me. Would my perfectly clean black and red body ever be the same again? I looked at myself and noticed that I my lovely white rubber outsole was entirely covered with mud which stained it brown; a little wet circle where the dogs had done their business was sticky and … hellish. I will never be able to get that off. Blue and Kenny followed not far behind.
Both Moose and Blue sprinted towards the open gate. “Finally!” I said to Benny who was now right beside me: “they are tired of this place too!” As I was finally both happy and relieved to be heading home, Blue and Moose took a turn and I knew exactly where they were heading: the second worst place in the world.
Let me tell you, Blue and Moose LOVE ice cream. Maybe even more than a bee likes honey. Last time we were at the ice cream store, we did not have a good time. Josh had to drag, and I literally mean, drag, Blue and Moose away from the tubs of ice cream. Oh boy, now were we in for a treat. It may be hard to believe, but these two dogs were able to trash the entire ice-cream store. From making dog bite marks in the ice-cream, to covering their entire body in ice cream, these dogs were unstoppable. Blue and Moose have been known to take full bins of ice cream from the freezer at home without Josh noticing. They are quite some sneaky dogs.
The doors of the store were always left opened, considering they wouldn’t think dogs would just stroll right in. The ice cream store was only half full which was unusual since most days, every seat was taken. I was ready to wait in the line that was out the door when I realized that I was still in Moose’s mouth. Dogs didn’t know how to wait in line, or could they even? I was right. I should have known they would do the same thing as last time when they were here. Customers and workers started to get up from their seats and shoo out the two dogs. Blue and Moose jumped onto the seat next to the ice cream machine and then jumped onto the counter top and went straight for the huge tubs of ice cream. After dodging the customers who tried to grab their collars, one of the workers tried to pick Moose up. Crunch. After the bite, the worker let out a loud scream and all the attention was turned to her. This left Blue’s actions unnoticed as he dove for the open tubs of ice cream. Rainbow sherbet was his favorite, so of course he went for that one. It took a second before all the workers and the customers were both trying to grab Blue’s whole snout and half his head out of the big gallon bin. Of course Benny and I were dropped on the floor in the chaotic mess. Before I knew it, all the workers, wearing bright blue aprons and ice cream cone-shaped hats, were stepping on and over me to drag Blue and Moose down from the counter. Thankfully, Blue and Moose picked me and Benny up. I am glad Blue and Moose didn’t forget us because I would rather be going back to Josh’s dirty and stinky foot than to be thrown away by the ice cream shop workers and go down with those icky containers and disgusting napkins with human slobber all over them. All the customers and kids were staring; some of the babies even started crying.
Soon an animal control truck pulled up. A man jumped out of the driver’s seat and walked back to the cage. The first thing I noticed was that he was wearing a throw-up green (my least favorite color) jumpsuit and was bald. The ice cream shop workers had finally let go of Blue’ and Moose’s collars to hand them over and I wondered why hadn’t they just called the number on the collar. Too late for that now. As the man from the animal shelter was reaching for them, Blue and Moose made a run for it. I guess that is what they were barking about: a plan. Blue and Moose were really fast dogs and I could feel the wind in my shoelaces and streaming through my perforation vents. I heard the truck following closely behind but I kept cheering on Moose and Blue because I did not want to be stuck in a cage at the animal shelter, or even worse, thrown away into a dumpster, with dead animals? As we were rounding the corner, Blue and Moose took a sharp turn and ran back the other way, losing the truck because he had no way of turning fast enough and following. And then, we were heading to the final stop on Blue and Moose’s list… .
Back at home, Josh was down in the basement playing video games with his guy friends while the girls were on the couch watching a movie.
“Josh can you bring us some sodas?” asked Jenny who was lying on the couch.
“Of course,” Josh replied heading up the stairs to the kitchen. “Blue! Moose! Come here boys! Want some treats?” yelled Josh. No reply. “That’s weird. Blue! Moose!” Josh shouted again, making kissing noises and clapping. Now, Josh was a little confused because no way the craziest dogs in town would give up a chance to get treats! Josh picked up six cans of Sprite from the refrigerator and took them downstairs. “Have you guys seen Blue or Moose? They don’t even want treats!” Josh asked, handing out sodas to some of his friends. But everyone was too distracted doing their own things, only giving Josh a “thanks” for the soda. “Josh, quickly! We need you! Get back in the game!” yelled George, another one of Josh’s friends.
“Gotta go guys! Feel free staying for a bit, but if you leave, lock the doors,” Josh said heading out with his car keys. He felt safe leaving his house to his friends, knowing they probably wouldn’t destroy it since this was basically their hangout spot; they hung out there almost every day.
As we turned the corner, Blue and Moose were sprinting to somewhere I don’t think I had ever been.
“Benny, where are we going?” I asked. But at that moment I saw a flash of a car through the gaps of the houses.
“Kenny, you saw that too right?” asked Benny. It really was! Josh’s car was just on the street over and I was determined for him to see us. But at this point, Blue and Moose were racing faster than ever and I had no way to tell them to find Josh. Good thing was that we were headed in the same direction as Josh.
“Kenny, we have to make Josh see us,” said Benny. Perfect timing. There was a red light and Josh had stopped at it. Slowly, Blue and Moose were stopping as well-they probably recognized Josh’s car! A second later, Josh was up and out of his car dashing towards us.
“JOSH!!” I yelled even though I knew he wouldn’t hear me because, well, I’m a shoe. Again, cars were honking and swerving out of the way making sure not to hit, this time, the crazy-looking boy running across the street. First a red car came by yelling “MOVE YOUR CAR!” and then a white car yelling “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
“Blue! Moose!” Josh yelled, relieved as he slowed to a stop. “Come on boys, what were you doing?” Blue and Moose followed Josh back into the car, which was still in the middle of the street. The whole way home, all the talking came from Josh who was saying, “where did you go?”, “what were you thinking?”, “why did you take my shoes?” and “you missed out on some treats…”. When we finally pulled back up to Josh’s house, his friends were still there. Josh didn’t seem too mad at Blue and Moose, just relieved he found them.
Josh took one look at Benny and me, and picked us up. I was so happy to finally be back in Josh’s hands. “Finally! What a long day,” I said to Benny. Holding me by the toe tip and pee-stained vamp, and Bennie by one eyestay, he carried us outside to the top of the driveway right near the garbage can. “Well, I can’t wear you guys anymore,” Josh said, tossing us into the garbage can. “NOOOOOO!!!” Benny and I yelled in unison. And then the lid came crashing down and it went dark.
