To the Lighthouse Free Essays

string(54) of that life was recorded in each novel she wrote. Virginia Woolf’s Answer to â€Å"Women Can’t Paint, Women Can’t Write† in To the Lighthouse By Daniela Munca1 Abstract This paper tends to Virginia Woolf’s individual substitute her response to â€Å"women can’t paint, ladies can’t write†, a reflection on the Victorian preference of the job of ladies in the family and society shared by both her folks, Leslie and Julia Stephen.By spanning a nearby printed examination with the latest mental basic investigation, I contend that separated from the political, social and aesthetic ramifications, Woolf’s disposition to the Victorian generalizations identified with sex jobs convey a profoundly close to home message, being evidently affected and dictated by the relationship with her folks and her need to mislead rest some uncertain issues concerning her status as a lady artist.This article centers around Woolf’s 1926 novel, To the Lighthouse, which is, without a doubt, her m ost personal novel. We will compose a custom paper test on To the Lighthouse or on the other hand any comparative theme just for you Request Now Lily Briscoe, the unmarried painter who at long last figures out how to conceptualize Woolf’s vision toward the finish of the novel, has a twofold crucial this novel. To begin with, she needs to determine her own frailties and come to harmony with the memory of the expired Mrs. Ramsay, an image of the Victorian lady and Julia Stephen’s creative modify inner self. Second, she needs to interface with Mr.Ramsay and demonstrate to herself that ladies can, for sure, paint. As she develops as a painter Virginia Woolf is conquering her resentment and dissatisfaction brought about by the way that she didn’t not fit into the for the most part acknowledged example of the woman’s job in the public eye and in the family life, and particularly of the status of ladies as specialists. By making one of the most testing books of the English Literature, Virginia Woolf likewise demonstrates to herself and to the perusers that ladies can, in reality write.Keywords: sexual orientation, workmanship, Victorian preferences, Virginia Woolf Being one of the soonest and most powerful women's activist authors of the twentieth century, Virginia Woolf has offered us with an artistic legacy investigating in various structures such subjects as financial procedures of word related isolation, wage segregation, inconvenience of independent circles and social avoidance. Her inferred point of view on distributive sex equity sustain her books and journals, however no other bit of fiction reflects all the more loyally her profoundly close to home substitute this see concerning the Lighthouse (1926), a novel which denoted her as a develop, self-satisfied current author. This article tends to Virginia Woolf’s individual substitute her response to â€Å"women can’t paint, ladies can’t write† (Woolf , To the Lighthouse, 48), a reflection on the Victorian preference of the job of ladies in the family and society shared by both her folks, Leslie and Julia Stephen. By connecting a nearby literary examination with the latest mental basic investigation, I contend that separated from the political, social and masterful ramifications, Woolf’s 1 English Language Instructor American Language Center (ALC/ACCELS) Chisinau, Moldova, danielamuncca@yahoo. com Journal of International Women’s Studies Vol. 0 #4 May 2009 276 demeanor to the Victorian generalizations identified with sex jobs convey a profoundly close to home message, being evidently affected and controlled by the relationship with her folks and her need to mislead rest some uncertain issues concerning her status as a lady craftsman. Lily Briscoe, the unmarried p ainter who at long last figures out how to conceptualize Woolf’s vision toward the finish of the novel, has a twofold strategic this novel. To begin with, she needs to determine her own uncertainties and come to harmony with the memory of the perished Mrs. Ramsay, an image of the Victorian lady and Julia Stephen’s aesthetic adjust inner self. Second, she needs to associate with Mr. Ramsay and demonstrate to herself that ladies can, in reality, paint. Lily Brsicoe †the battling female craftsman In the principal area of the book Lily Briscoe is a long way from being the visionary craftsman whose prophetical â€Å"I have had my vision† (Woolf, To the Lighthouse, 209) achieves the symbolical excursion to the Lighthouse and imprints the finish of the novel. In â€Å"The Window† Lily is introduced as a youthful, unpracticed painter attempting to beat her own weaknesses: â€Å"She could have sobbed. It was terrible, it was awful, it was unendingly bad!She could have done it another way obviously; the shading could have been diminished and blurred; the shapes etherealised; that was the way Paunceforte would have seen it† (27). As she was battling to locate her own vision, to see â€Å"the shading consuming on a structure of steel; the light of a butterfly’s wing lying upon the curves of a cathedr al† Lily discovers it very hard to concentrate on her canvas as a result of Mr Tansley murmuring in her ear, â€Å"Women can’t paint, ladies can’t compose .. . † (78). Lily Briscoe is searching for pictures to motivate her and she definitely goes to Mrs. Ramsay, whose hear accumulated information and knowledge (50).She is then reviewing, inclining her head on Mrs Ramsay’s knee, her request â€Å"that she should, Minta must, they all must wed, since in the entire world whatever shrubs may be hurled to her (†¦), or triumphs won by her (†¦), and here she disheartened, obscured, and returned to her seat, there could be no contesting this: an unmarried lady (†¦), an unmarried lady has missed the best of life (50). Lily’s demeanor to this announcement is first, cautious, as she is attempting to specify things that has throughout everyday life, things that fulfill her: â€Å"Oh, at the same time, Lily would state, there was her dad; her home; even, had she set out to state it, her painting† (51).Even however â€Å"all this appeared to be pretty much nothing, so virginal, against the other†, Lily would at present â€Å"urge her own exception from the widespread law; argue for it†, as she understands that in truth â€Å"she got a kick out of the chance to be separated from everyone else; she jumped at the chance to act naturally; she was not made for that; thus need to meet a genuine gaze from eyes of unrivaled profundity, and stand up to Mrs Ramsay’s basic sureness (†¦) that her dear Lily, her little Brisk, was a fool† (51). Composing as Woolf’s psychoanalytic purification Numerous abstract pundits like Spilka, Abel, Kavaler-Adler, Leaska, Maze and Panken have flagged the way that Virginia Woolf’s individual life and her work were indivisible, and some portion of that life was recorded in each novel she composed. You read To the Lighthouse in classification Papers Characters, settings and clashes present in her fiction more than generally cover with the universe of her own understanding or are reflected in Woolf’s significant images and leitmotifs, particularly in her most personal novel To the Lighthouse.Apart from the topics of life and passing, the impact of time on human memory, composing as a cleansing encounter, male versus female division, the topic of the job of workmanship and the aesthetic vision in the Journal of International Women’s Studies Vol. 10 #4 May 2009 277 post Victorian age are a profoundly close to home ones for Virginia Woolf, topics which molded her as an essayist and enlivened her women's activist perspectives on the political, social and masterful levels.Rooted profound into her most close to home recollections, Woolf’s battle with the Victorian preferences on the job of ladies in the general public and in family life are addressed with a particular passion and sharpness, as she needed to go up against and bargain, in such manner, with the two of the significant groups of stars resonating for a mind-blowing duration, which show up in the mental or figurative substance of her self-portraying compositions, just as in her fiction†her folks, Leslie and Julia Stephen.In Granite and Rainbow †The Hidden Life of Virginia Woolf, Mitchell Leaska claims that â€Å"the craft of fiction gave Virginia Woolf the methods for rejoining and accommodating those warring groups she felt so intensely inside. (†¦)Writing books allowed her to externalize quite a bit of what, bolted inside, might have stayed conflicting, fragment ary, and wrecking. It may likewise be said that Virginia went naturally to fiction on the grounds that there were fulfillments in dream that she couldn’t find in the genuine world† (7).A more intensive gander at Woolf’s vision on the job of the female craftsman during the 1920s is conceivable while breaking down her anecdotal adjust back †Lily Briscoe, the old maid painter who assisted with voicing her most dire need †the desire to make workmanship and put on the canvas, much the same as she did on paper, so as to make out of that vision something lasting something resistant from change. While planning the plot of To the Lighthouse, Woolf had declared that the creation of her content comprises for her a kind of â€Å"psychoanalytic catharsis† (Abel 46).The close inclusion of the author’s entire being with that past is additionally affirmed by the freeing capacity attributed by Virginia Woolf herself to her book, when on the ninety-6th commemoration of her fat her’s birth she composes: â€Å" I used to consider him and mother every day: except composing the Lighthouse laid them in my psyche. (†¦) (I accept this to be genuine that I was fixated by them both, horribly; and, composing of them was a fundamental demonstration) â€Å"(135).The truth that composing end up being a viable cleansing instrument is bolstered by Woolf’s articulation in A Sketch of the Past: â€Å"Until I worked it out, I would discover my lips moving; I would be contending with him; seething against him; saying to myself all that I never said to him .. . things it was difficult to state aloud† (108). Lily Briscoe is one of the characters who

Any topic concerning government (economy, u.s census, presidential Research Paper

Any theme concerning government (economy, u.s statistics, presidential political decision, congress bill) - Research Paper Example The important information for the examination configuration will be taken from the United States Statistical Abstracts - explicitly insights about episodes of wrongdoing and wellbeing worries in American government funded schools. By introducing the frameworks of a factual plan pertinent to this information, including an underlying plain introduction of the spellbinding measurements with respect to the information, it is normal that this concise paper will show both a comprehension of fundamental measurable procedures and a potential test way to deal with understanding the significant social issue of harassing. The reliant variable in the proposed research will comprise of the pace of tormenting apparent in an assortment of schools having various qualities, communicated as a rate. As such the needy variable will be a proportion type variable, being able to be communicated as a quantifiable number with fine qualifications conceivable as to amount. The autonomous factors to be used for this investigation will be drawn from information gave in the Statistical Abstracts, including age-level of understudies (communicated as an ordinal variable estimated as rudimentary, center, of secondary school), enlistment of school (communicated as ordinal breakdowns deciding the size of schools), and minority enlistment inside schools (again communicated as an ordinal breakdown). It is normal that these distinctive autonomous factors will each affect the pace of harassing, as they decide the formative period of understudies, just as the size and assumed social anxieties and intercommunity union of the diffe rent school types. The proposed connections of the factors will be as characterized in the accompanying segment. It is normal that the more seasoned the understudy populace, the almost certain it will be that harassing will be common, generally in light of the fact that the understudies will be bound to

The Best And Most Effective Ways of How to Cite a Blog

The Best And Most Effective Ways of How to Cite a Blog As the recent or new forms of online communication now become acceptable sources in the setting of academics. Few questions about the correct and proper citation are now continued to arise. Sometimes, you might be confused or worry regarding the citation of specific things.In this blog, we are going to show you the best ways to cite a blog. To cite a post of the blog, you must make a precise note of the following parts of the information: The title of the particular post you’re quotingThe name of the blog post that has been published onThe author name of the postThe direct link or URL to the postThe publisher of the site of the blog How to cite a blog in APA Style Summary How to cite a blog in APA StyleExample how to cite a blog in APA StyleHow to cite a blog in Harvard StyleExample of how to cite a blog in Harvard StyleHow to cite a blog in MLA StyleExample of how to cite a blog in MLA StyleHow to Cite an EBook in MLA Format Along With ExamplesExampleChicago StyleHow to Cite a Website in Chicago StyleConclusion The style of the APA citation was created in the year 1822 of July by the Psychological Association of America. Using the below following structure to cite a blog: Per the style of the APA format for a blog: When anyone paraphrasing or quoting part of a post of the blog, you must refer to that particular post.The elements such as (company or a person), when (day, month, year), what (blog post’s title), and where (Retrieved from and URL). Example how to cite a blog in APA Style Example (don’t overlook to mark the second and following lines): Jenny, F. (2014, May 27). What are human-made substances? [Blog post]. Retrieved from http://blog.apabooks.org/2015/08/12/what-are-man-made-subtance How to cite a blog in Harvard Style Web pages consist of blogs that are frequently updated on a specific topic or subject with the articles of a separable. The succeeding should exist in the reference list for the quotation of the blogs in the Harvard style. Blog Post TitleTitle of the websiteAuthorYear of the blog that was last publishedMonth/day of the posted blogAvailable at the: URL Example of how to cite a blog in Harvard Style When quoting a post of the blog, the given below format is used: Last name of the author, First name. (Year published). Title of Post. [Blog] Blog name. Accessible at: URL Example: Cena, T. (2014). Child Labor and Humanity. [Blog] Today And Yesterday. Accessible at:http://todayandyesterday.blogs.morningtimes.com/2014/04/06/child-labor-and-humanity/ [Retrieved June 26. 2015]. How to cite a blog in MLA Style The MLA is also is known as the Style of Modern Language Association. It is used for citing the sources of liberal arts, language and literature, and other subjects that are related to the division of humanity. This style also gives the readers with a system of “cross-referencing,” which permits them to find the publication facts of a source. Example of how to cite a blog in MLA Style last name of the author, first name. “Tittle of the blog post.” Blog name, Publisher, Date of Publishing of the blog post, URL of the blog post (https://) Jain, Neeraj. “5 tips to be a specialist of dating online”. Stellar posts, April 20 2018, How to Cite an EBook in MLA Format Along With Examples Nowadays, most of the people reading the e-books on their personal computer or device. The students usually tend to gather the applicable information on a particular topic through and e-book. To cite an e-book in the format of MLA below is the structure of it: Author’s last name, First name. Book Title, City of Publication: Publication’s Year, Publisher. Series. Medium. Example Harry, Sen. Predator. Mineola: Penguin Publications, 2012. Kindle Edition. Berger, Sen. The Growth of chambers: McGraw-Hill, 2004 Chicago Style The style of Chicago is also called as the Chicago Manual Style, i.e., CMS or CMOS, and sometimes a guide of style for American English.It was issued in the year 1906 from the Chicago Press University.The citation style of Chicago is used to reference the resources in subjects such as social science, natural science, and the humanities.It includes two simple documentation systems, i.e., the author-date system and the humanities style (bibliography and notes). How to Cite a Website in Chicago Style To refer a website according to the guidelines of the style of Chicago guide, given below is the format: Format: Author’s last name, First name. “Title of Article.” Title of Website. Date of Month, Publication Year/ Updated Month Date, Year OR Accessed Date of Month, Year of access. Website link. Example: Ferguson, David. “Deck, Yes! The Message Plan is here.” Gizmodo. August 19, 1897. Conclusion The above information is relevant to understand how to cite a blog. It is a major issue that most of the students are facing when citing blogs and articles. If you are facing any difficulty or problem about how to cite a blog. Our company is delivering appropriate, plagiarism-free, and relevant content to you. If you have any questions about the content, you can contact us. Our experts can resolve your query within some period.

Global Economic Outlook and V-shaped Economic Free Essay Example, 2250 words

A V-shaped economic recovery forecasted in the middle of the global financial fiasco is now underway. The process of recovery initiated last year in countries like China, Indonesia, and India and gradually spread to other emerging and advanced economies. The Asia-Pacific region is expected to outdo the 8 percent growth forecast. This will be led by a real growth rate of 10 percent by China (Mussa, 2010). The process of recovery will be slow in advanced economies. In countries like the US, the biggest growth drivers will be a business investment, government spending, and foreign consumers; and the rebound is expected to be risk-laden. This is the same in the case of Japan as the country s economic revival appears fragile due to record unemployment levels, falling wages, etc. Despite this, the Japanese economy is likely to exhibit a growth but there may be a decline in the growth momentum. China has performed much better than the other countries in the recent global phenomenon. This h as been added by massive monetary and fiscal expansions (Deloitte, 2009). The industry of household appliances has gained competence in economically developed regions of China like the Pearl River Delta. We will write a custom essay sample on Global Economic Outlook and V-shaped Economic or any topic specifically for you Only $17.96 $11.86/page It is predicted that the 21st century will be a century of plastic and China will be the largest plastic market. Along with the continuous rapid economic development in China, the plastic industry will keep developing at a high speed in the long term. It is widely believed that the price of the plastics has decoupled from the crude but there is still a co-relation. The price of oil is difficult to predict as it is based on market factors. With the rising price of oil, the price of plastics produced from oil will also move up. Any mismatch between global demand for oil and its supply has a profound effect on various industries including plastics. Business Forecast of Canada Corporation Ltd. The plastic industry is an industry with low entry barriers, strong bargaining power of the suppliers and buyers.

What Would You Do If Your Baby Was Born With A Defect

What would you do if your baby was born with a defect? In this era, we would love the child unconditionally. But what if you knew beforehand that you could fix this birth defect before the baby was born? The thought seems a little tempting to some, but to others the thought is terrifying. With gene modification techniques such as CRISPR-Cas9 spiraling around it is possible to change genes. Gene modification is defined as any alteration of genetic material of a human being. Gene modification should not be allowed because the disastrous effects such as it lacks diversity, creates a divide, goes against religious beliefs, produces overpopulation, and the unknown side effects. First of all, if CRISPR-Cas9 is cheap procedure it does not allow†¦show more content†¦If everyone had similar genetics the population could be wiped out because they would not be able to fight off the new diseases. Secondly, if CRISPR-Cas9 is expensive it could create a huge divide between rich and poor. This divide is already a huge problem currently. According to Pew Research Center they found out the wage gap between upper class and middle class was really large. In 2013, the median wealth of the nation’s upper-income families was nearly seven times the median wealth of middle-income families. This is the widest wealth gap seen in 30 years since the Federal Reserve began collecting this kind of data (Pew Research Center). With gene modification is can be possible that the wage gap can get even bigger. Wealthier people would be able to afford CRISPR-Cas9 and their future children would be the supreme race. Their children would be the made to be the most good-looking and most intelligent. For example, a future parent can make their child over six feet tall and have attractive facial qualities. These qualities would benefit them in the future when it comes to the work force. People tend to hire people that have these qualities, especially in a job in sales and or anything associated with the media. Everyone from middle class and below would be out of luck of securing a job if the supreme race has far more of an advantage than them. Finding work in this economy is hard enough as it is. Thirdly, gene modification can cause a problemShow MoreRelatedDesigning Our Future With Designer Babies1484 Words   |  6 Pagesdesigner babies, many might not know what they are. Designer babies are babies that have their genetic make-up selected for them by their parents and are born to look specific to what the parents chose. It’s a great idea! This is an amazing option to choose for many other reasons than to have a beautiful baby! You can choose the eyes, nose, mouth, and head shape. 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Prelude to Foundation Chapter 5 Upperside Free Essays

TRANTOR-†¦ It is almost never pictured as a world seen from space. It has long since captured the general mind of humanity as a world of the interior and the image is that of the human hive that existed under the domes. Yet there was an exterior as well and there are holographs that still remain that were taken from space and show varying degrees of [devil] (see Figures 14 and 15). We will write a custom essay sample on Prelude to Foundation Chapter 5 Upperside or any similar topic only for you Order Now Note that the surface of the domes, the interface of the vast city and the overlying atmosphere, a surface referred to in its time as â€Å"Upperside,† is†¦ Encyclopedia Galactica 21. Yet the following day found Hari Seldon back in the library. For one thing, there was his promise to Hummin. He had promised to try and he couldn’t very well make it a halfhearted process. For another, he owed something to himself too. He resented having to admit failure. Not yet, at least. Not while he could plausibly tell himself he was following up leads. So he stared at the list of reference book-films he had not yet checked through and tried to decide which of the unappetizing number had the slightest chance of being useful to him. He had about decided that the answer was â€Å"none of the above† and saw no way out but to look at samples of each when he was startled by a gentle tap against the alcove wall. Seldon looked up and found the embarrassed face of Lisung Randa peering at him around the edge of the alcove opening. Seldon knew Randa, had been introduced to him by Dors, and had dined with him (and with others) on several occasions. Randa, an instructor in psychology, was a little man, short and plump, with a round cheerful face and an almost perpetual smile. He had a sallow complexion and the narrowed eyes so characteristic of people on millions of worlds. Seldon knew that appearance well, for there were many of the great mathematicians who had borne it, and he had frequently seen their holograms. Yet on Helicon he had never seen one of these Easterners. (By tradition they were called that, though no one knew why; and the Easterners themselves were said to resent the term to some degree, but again no one knew why.) â€Å"There’s millions of us here on Trantor,† Randa had said, smiling with no trace of self-consciousness, when Seldon, on first meeting him, had not been able to repress all trace of startled surprise. â€Å"You’ll also find lots of Southerners-dark skins, tightly curled hair. Did you ever see one?† â€Å"Not on Helicon,† muttered Seldon. â€Å"All Westerners on Helicon, eh? How dull! But it doesn’t matter. Takes all kinds.† (He left Seldon wondering at the fact that there were Easterners, Southerners, and Westerners, but no Northerners. He had tried finding an answer to why that might be in his reference searches and had not succeeded.) And now Randa’s good-natured face was looking at him with an almost ludicrous look of concern. He said, â€Å"Are you all right, Seldon?† Seldon stared. â€Å"Yes, of course. Why shouldn’t I be?† â€Å"I’m just going by sounds, my friend. You were screaming.† â€Å"Screaming?† Seldon looked at him with offended disbelief. â€Å"Not loud. Like this.† Randa gritted his teeth and emitted a strangled high-pitched sound from the back of his throat. â€Å"If I’m wrong, I apologize for this unwarranted intrusion on you. Please forgive me.† Seldon hung his head. â€Å"You’re forgiven, Lisung. I do make that sound sometimes, I’m told. I assure you it’s unconscious. I’m never aware of it.† â€Å"Are you aware why you make it?† â€Å"Yes. Frustration. Frustration.† Randa beckoned Seldon closer and lowered his voice further. â€Å"We’re disturbing people. Let’s come out to the lounge before we’re thrown out.† In the lounge, over a pair of mild drinks, Randa said, â€Å"May I ask you, as a matter of professional interest, why you are feeling frustration?† Seldon shrugged. â€Å"Why does one usually feel frustration? I’m tackling something in which I am making no progress.† â€Å"But you’re a mathematician, Hari. Why should anything in the history library frustrate you?† â€Å"What were you doing here?† â€Å"Passing through as part of a shortcut to where I was going when I heard you†¦ moaning. Now you see†-and he smiled-â€Å"it’s no longer a shortcut, but a serious delay-one that I welcome, however.† â€Å"I wish I were just passing through the history library, but I’m trying to solve a mathematical problem that requires some knowledge of history and I’m afraid I’m not handling it well.† Randa stared at Seldon with an unusually solemn expression on his face, then he said, â€Å"Pardon me, but I must run the risk of offending you now. I’ve been computering you.† â€Å"Computering me!† Seldon’s eyes widened. He felt distinctly angry. â€Å"I have offended you. But, you know, I had an uncle who was a mathematician. You might even have heard of him: Kiangtow Randa.† Seldon drew in his breath. â€Å"Are you a relative of that Randa?† â€Å"Yes. He is my father’s older brother and he was quite displeased with me for not following in his footsteps-he has no children of his own. I thought somehow that it might please him that I had met a mathematician and I wanted to boast of you-if I could-so I checked what information the mathematics library might have.† â€Å"I see. And that’s what you were really doing there. Well-I’m sorry. I don’t suppose you could do much boasting.† â€Å"You suppose wrong. I was impressed. I couldn’t make heads or tails of the subject matter of your papers, but somehow the information seemed to be very favorable. And when I checked the news files, I found you were at the Decennial Convention earlier this year. So†¦ what’s ‘psychohistory,’ anyway? Obviously, the first two syllables stir my curiosity.† â€Å"I see you got that word out of it.† â€Å"Unless I’m totally misled, it seemed to me that you can work out the future course of history.† Seldon nodded wearily, â€Å"That, more or less, is what psychohistory is or, rather, what it is intended to be.† â€Å"But is it a serious study?† Randa was smiling. â€Å"You don’t just throw sticks?† â€Å"Throw sticks?† â€Å"That’s just a reference to a game played by children on my home planet of Hopara. The game is supposed to tell the future and if you’re a smart kid, you can make a good thing out of it. Tell a mother that her child will grow up beautiful and marry a rich man and it’s good for a piece of cake or a half-credit piece on the spot. She isn’t going to wait and see if it comes true; you are rewarded just for saying it.† â€Å"I see. No, I don’t throw sticks. Psychohistory is just an abstract study. Strictly abstract. It has no practical application at all, except-â€Å" â€Å"Now we’re getting to it. Exceptions are what are interesting.† â€Å"Except that I would like to work out such an application. Perhaps if I knew more about history-â€Å" â€Å"Ah, that is why you are reading history?† â€Å"Yes, but it does me no good,† said Seldon sadly. â€Å"There is too much history and there is too little of it that is told.† â€Å"And that’s what’s frustrating you?† Seldon nodded. Randa said, â€Å"But, Hari, you’ve only been here a matter of weeks.† â€Å"True, but already I can see-â€Å" â€Å"You can’t see anything in a few weeks. You may have to spend your whole lifetime making one little advance. It may take many generations of work by many mathematicians to make a real inroad on the problem.† â€Å"I know that, Lisung, but that doesn’t make me feel better. I want to make some visible progress myself.† â€Å"Well, driving yourself to distraction won’t help either. If it will make you feel better, I can give you an example of a subject much less complex than human history that people have been working for I don’t know how long without making much progress. I know because a group is working on it right here at the University and one of my good friends is involved. Talk about frustration! You don’t know what frustration is!† â€Å"What’s the subject?† Seldon felt a small curiosity stirring within him. â€Å"Meteorology.† â€Å"Meteorology!† Seldon felt revolted at the anticlimax. â€Å"Don’t make faces. Look. Every inhabited world has an atmosphere. Every world has its own atmospheric composition, its own temperature range, its own rotation and revolution rate, its own axial tipping, it’s own land-water distribution. We’ve got twenty five million different problems and no one has succeeded in finding a generalization.† â€Å"†¦ that’s because atmospheric behavior easily enters a chaotic phase. Everyone knows that.† â€Å"So my friend Jenarr Leggen says. You’ve met him.† Seldon considered. â€Å"Tall fellow? Long nose? Doesn’t speak much?† â€Å"That’s the one.-And Trantor itself is a bigger puzzle than almost any world. According to the records, it had a fairly normal weather pattern when it was first settled. Then, as the population grew and urbanization spread, more energy was used and more heat was discharged into the atmosphere. The ice cover contracted, the cloud layer thickened, and the weather got lousier. That encouraged the movement underground and set off a vicious cycle. The worse the weather got, the more eagerly the land was dug into and the domes built and the weather got still worse. Now the planet has become a world of almost incessant cloudiness and frequent rains-or snows when it’s cold enough. The only thing is that no one can work it out properly. No one has worked out an analysis that can explain why the weather has deteriorated quite as it has or how one can reasonably predict the details of its day-to-day changes.† Seldon shrugged. â€Å"Is that sort of thing important?† â€Å"To a meteorologist it is. Why can’t they be as frustrated over their problems as you are over yours? Don’t be a project chauvinist.† Seldon remembered the cloudiness and the dank chill on the way to the Emperor’s Palace. He said, â€Å"So what’s being done about it?† â€Å"Well, there’s a big project on the matter here at the University and Jenarr Leggen is part of it. They feel that if they can understand the weather change on Trantor, they will learn a great deal about the basic laws of general meteorology. Leggen wants that as much as you want your laws of psychohistory. So he has set up an incredible array of instruments of all kinds Upperside†¦ you know, above the domes. It hasn’t helped them so far. And if there’s so much work being done for many generations on the atmosphere, without results, how can you complain that you haven’t gotten anything out of human history in a few weeks?† Randa was right, Seldon thought, and he himself was being unreasonable and wrong. And yet†¦ and yet†¦ Hummin would say that this failure in the scientific attack on problems was another sign of the degeneration of the times. Perhaps he was right, also, except that he was speaking of a general degeneration and average effect. Seldon felt no degeneration of ability and mentality in himself. He said with some interest then, â€Å"You mean that people climb up out of the domes and into the open air above?† â€Å"Yes. Upperside. It’s a funny thing, though. Most native Trantorians won’t do it. They don’t like to go Upperside. The idea gives them vertigo or something. Most of those working on the meteorology project are Outworlders.† Seldon looked out of the window and the lawns and small garden of the University campus, brilliantly lit without shadows or oppressive heat, and said thoughtfully, â€Å"I don’t know that I can blame Trantorians for liking the comfort of being within, but I should think curiosity would drive some Upperside. It would drive me.† â€Å"Do you mean that you would like to see meteorology in action?† â€Å"I think I would. How does one get Upperside?† â€Å"Nothing to it. An elevator takes you up, a door opens, and there you are. I’ve been up there. It’s†¦ novel.† â€Å"It would get my mind off psychohistory for a while.† Seldon sighed. â€Å"I’d welcome that.† â€Å"On the other hand,† said Randy, â€Å"my uncle used to say, ‘All knowledge is one,’ and he may be right. You may learn something from meteorology that will help you with your psychohistory. Isn’t that possible?† Seldon smiled weakly. â€Å"A great many things are possible.† And to himself he added: But not practical. 22. Dors seemed amused. â€Å"Meteorology?† Seldon said, â€Å"Yes. There’s work scheduled for tomorrow and I’ll go up with them.† â€Å"Are you tired of history?† Seldon nodded his head somberly. â€Å"Yes, I am. I’ll welcome the change. Besides, Randy says it’s another problem that’s too massive for mathematics to handle and it will do me good to see that my situation isn’t unique.† â€Å"I hope you’re not agoraphobic.† Seldon smiled. â€Å"No, I’m not, but I see why you ask. Randy says that Trantorians are frequently agoraphobic and won’t go Upperside. I imagine they feel uncomfortable without a protective enclosure†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Dors nodded. â€Å"You can see where that would be natural, but there are also many Trantorians who are to be found among the planets of the Galaxy-tourists, administrators, soldiers. And agoraphobia isn’t particularly rare in the Outworlds either.† â€Å"That may be, Dors, but I’m not agoraphobic. I am curious and I welcome the change, so I’ll be joining them tomorrow.† Dors hesitated. â€Å"I should go up with you, but I have a heavy schedule tomorrow. And, if you’re not agoraphobic, you’ll have no trouble and you’ll probably enjoy yourself. Oh, and stay close to the meteorologists. I’ve heard of people getting lost up there.† â€Å"I’ll be careful. It’s a long time since I’ve gotten truly lost anywhere.† 23. Jenarr Leggen had a dark look about him. It was not so much his complexion, which was fair enough. It was not even his eyebrows, which were thick and dark enough. It was, rather, that those eyebrows were hunched over deep-set eyes and a long and rather prominent nose. He had, as a result, a most unmerry look. His eyes did not smile and when he spoke, which wasn’t often, he had a deep, strong voice, surprisingly resonant for his rather thin body. He said, â€Å"You’ll need warmer clothing than that, Seldon.† Seldon said, â€Å"Oh?† and looked about. There were two men and two women who were making ready to go up with Leggen and Seldon And, as in Leggen’s own case, their rather satiny Trantorian clothing was covered by thick sweaters that, not surprisingly, were brightly colored in bold designs. No two were even faintly alike, of course. Seldon looked down at himself and said, â€Å"Sorry, I didn’t know but I don’t have any suitable outer garment.† â€Å"I can give you one. I think there’s a spare here somewhere.-Yes, here it is. A little threadbare, but it’s better than nothing.† â€Å"Wearing sweaters like these tan make you unpleasantly warm,† said Seldon. â€Å"Here they would,† said Leggen. â€Å"Other conditions exist Upperside. Cold and windy. Too bad I don’t have spare leggings and boots for you too. You’ll want them later.† They were taking with them a cart of instruments, which they were testing one by one with what Seldon thought was unnecessary slowness. â€Å"Your home planet cold?† asked Leggen. Seldon said, â€Å"Parts of it, of course. The part of Helicon I come from is mild and often rainy.† â€Å"Too bad. You won’t like the weather Upperside.† â€Å"I think I can manage to endure it for the time we’ll be up there.† When they were ready, the group filed into an elevator that was marked: OFFICIAL USE ONLY. â€Å"That’s because it goes Upperside,† said one of the young women, â€Å"and people aren’t supposed to be up there without good reason.† Seldon had not met the young woman before, but he had heard her addressed as Clowzia. He didn’t know if that was a first name, a last name, or a nickname. The elevator seemed no different from others that Seldon had been on, either here on Trantor or at home in Helicon (barring, of course, the gravitic lift he and Hummin had used), but there was something about knowing that it was going to take him out of the confines of the planet and into emptiness above that made it feel like a spaceship. Seldon smiled internally. A foolish fantasy. The elevator quivered slightly, which remind Seldon of Hummin’s forebodings of Galactic decay. Leggen, along with the other men and one of the women, seemed frozen and waiting, as though they had suspended thought as well as activity until they could get out, but Clowzia kept glancing at him as though she found him terribly impressive. Seldon leaned close and whispered to her (he hesitated to disturb the others), â€Å"Are we going up very high?† â€Å"High?† she repeated. She spoke in a normal voice, apparently not feeling that the others required silence. She seemed very young and it occurred to Seldon that she was probably an undergraduate. An apprentice, perhaps. â€Å"We’re taking a long time. Upperside must be many stories high in the air.† For a moment, she looked puzzled. Then, â€Å"Oh no. Not high at all. We started very deep. The University is at a low level. We use a great deal of energy and if we’re quite deep, the energy costs are lower.† Leggen said, â€Å"All right. We’re here. Let’s get the equipment out.† The elevator stopped with a small shudder and the wide door slid open rapidly. The temperature dropped at once and Seldon thrust his hands into his pockets and was very glad he had a sweater on. A cold wind stirred his hair and it occurred to him that he would have found a hat useful and, even as he thought that, Leggen pulled something out of a fold in his sweater, snapped it open, and put it on his head. The others did the same. Only Clowzia hesitated. She paused just before she put hers on, then offered it to Seldon. Seldon shook his head. â€Å"I can’t take your hat, Clowzia.† â€Å"Go ahead. I have long hair and it’s pretty thick. Yours is short and a little†¦ thin.† Seldon would have liked to deny that firmly and at another time he would have. Now, however, he took the hat and mumbled, â€Å"Thank you. If your head gets cold, I’ll give it back.† Maybe she wasn’t so young. It was her round face, almost a baby face. And now that she had called attention to her hair, he could see that it was a charming russet shade. He had never seen hair quite like that on Helicon. Outside it was cloudy, as it had been the time he was taken across open country to the Palace. It was considerably colder than it had been then, but he assumed that was because they were six weeks farther into winter. The clouds were thicker than they had been on the earlier occasion and the day was distinctly darker and threatening-or was it just closer to night? Surely, they wouldn’t come up to do important work without leaving themselves an ample period of daylight to do it in. Or did they expect to take very little time? He would have liked to have asked, but it occurred to him that they might not like questions at this time. All of them seemed to be in states varying from excitement to anger. Seldon inspected his surroundings. He was standing on something that he thought might be dull metal from the sound it made when he surreptitiously thumped his foot down on it. It was not bare metal, however. When he walked, he left footprints. The surface was clearly covered by dust or fine sand or clay. Well, why not? There could scarcely be anyone coming up here to dust the place. He bent down to pinch up some of the matter out of curiosity. Clowzia had come up to him. She noticed what he was doing and said, with the air of a housewife caught at an embarrassing negligence, â€Å"We do sweep hereabouts for the sake of the instruments. It’s much worse most places Upperside, but it really doesn’t matter. It makes for insulation, you know.† Seldon grunted and continued to look about. There was no chance of understanding the instruments that looked as though they were growing out of the thin soil (if one could call it that). He hadn’t the faintest idea of what they were or what they measured. Leggen was walking toward him. He was picking up his feet and putting them down gingerly and it occurred to Seldon that he was doing so to avoid jarring the instruments. He made a mental note to walk that way himself. â€Å"You! Seldon!† Seldon didn’t quite like the tone of voice. He replied coolly, â€Å"Yes, Dr. Leggen?† â€Å"Well, Dr. Seldon, then.† He said it impatiently. â€Å"That little fellow Randa told me you are a mathematician.† â€Å"That’s right.† â€Å"A good one?† â€Å"I’d like to think so, but it’s a hard thing to guarantee.† â€Å"And you’re interested in intractable problems?† Seldon said feelingly, â€Å"I’m stuck with one.† â€Å"I’m stuck with another. You’re free to look about. If you have any questions, our intern, Clowzia, will help out. You might be able to help us.† â€Å"I would be delighted to, but I know nothing about meteorology.† â€Å"That’s all right, Seldon. I just want you to get a feel for this thing and then I’d like to discuss my mathematics, such as it is.† â€Å"I’m at your service.† Leggen turned away, his long scowling face looking grim. Then he turned back. â€Å"If you get cold-too cold-the elevator door is open. You just step in and touch the spot marked; UNIVERSITY BASE. It will take you down and the elevator will then return to us automatically. Clowzia will show you-if you forget.† â€Å"I won’t forget.† This time he did leave and Seldon looked after him, feeling the cold wind knife through his sweater. Clowzia came back over to him, her face slightly reddened by that wind. Seldon said, â€Å"Dr. Leggen seems annoyed. Or is that just his ordinary outlook on life?† She giggled. â€Å"He does look annoyed most of the time, but right now he really is.† Seldon said very naturally, â€Å"Why?† Clowzia looked over her shoulder, her long hair swirling. Then she said, â€Å"I’m not supposed to know, but I do just the same. Dr. Leggen had it all figured out that today, just at this time, there was going to be a break in the clouds and he’d been planning to make special measurements in sunlight. Only†¦ well, look at the weather.† Seldon nodded. â€Å"We have holovision receivers up here, so he knew it was cloudy worse than usual-and I guess he was hoping there would be something wrong with the instruments so that it would be their fault and not that of his theory. So far, though, they haven’t found anything out of the way.† â€Å"And that’s why he looks so unhappy.† â€Å"Well, he never looks happy.† Seldon looked about, squinting. Despite the clouds, the light was harsh. He became aware that the surface under his feet was not quite horizontal. He was standing on a shallow dome and as he looked outward there were other domes in all directions, with different widths and heights. â€Å"Upperside seems to be irregular,† he said. â€Å"Mostly, I think. That’s the way it worked out.† â€Å"Any reason for it?† â€Å"Not really. The way I’ve heard it explained-I looked around and asked, just as you did, you know-was that originally the people on Trantor domed in places, shopping malls, sports arenas, things like that, then whole towns, so that (here were lots of domes here and there, with different heights and different widths. When they all came together, it was all uneven, but by that time, people decided that’s the way it ought to be.† â€Å"You mean that something quite accidental came to be viewed as a tradition?† â€Å"I suppose so-if you want to put it that way.† (If something quite accidental can easily become viewed as a tradition and be made unbreakable or nearly so, thought Seldon, would that be a law of psychohistory? It sounded trivial, but how many other laws, equally trivial, might there be? A million? A billion? Were there a relatively few general laws from which these trivial ones could be derived as corollaries? How could he say? For a while, lost in thought, he almost forgot the biting wind.) Clowzia was aware of that wind, however, for she shuddered and said, â€Å"It’s very nasty. It’s much better under the dome.† â€Å"Are you a Trantorian?† asked Seldon. â€Å"That’s right.† Seldon remembered Ranch’s dismissal of Trantorians as agoraphobic and said, â€Å"Do you mind being up here?† â€Å"I hate it,† said Clowzia, â€Å"but I want my degree and my specialty and status and Dr. Leggen says I can’t get it without some field work. So here I am, hating it, especially when it’s so cold. When it’s this cold, by the way, you wouldn’t dream that vegetation actually grows on these domes, would you?† â€Å"It does?† He looked at Clowzia sharply, suspecting some sort of practical joke designed to make him look foolish. She looked totally innocent, but how much of that was real and how much was just her baby face? â€Å"Oh sure. Even here, when it’s warmer. You notice the soil here? We keep it swept away because of our work, as I said, but in other places it accumulates here and there and is especially deep in the low places where the domes meet. Plants grow in it.† â€Å"But where does the soil come from?† â€Å"When the dome covered just part of the planet, the wind deposited soil on them, little by little. Then, when Trantor was all covered and the living levels were dug deeper and deeper, some of the material dug up, if suitable, would be spread over the top.† â€Å"Surely, it would break down the domes.† â€Å"Oh no. The domes are very strong and they’re supported almost everywhere. The idea was, according to a book-film I viewed, that they were going to grow crops Upperside, but it turned out to be much more practical to do it inside the dome. Yeast and algae could be cultivated within the domes too, taking the pressure off the usual crops, so it was decided to let Upperside go wild. There are animals on Upperside too-butterflies, bees, mice, rabbits. Lots of them.† â€Å"Won’t the plant roots damage the domes?† â€Å"In thousands of years they haven’t. The domes are treated so that they repel the roots. Most of the growth is grass, but there are trees too. You’d be able to see for yourself if this were the warm season or if we were farther south or if you were up in a spaceship.† She looked at him with a sidewise flick of her eyes, â€Å"Did you see Trantor when you were coming down from space?† â€Å"No, Clowzia, I must confess I didn’t. The hypership was never well placed for viewing. Have you ever seen Trantor from space?† She smiled weakly. â€Å"I’ve never been in spare.† Seldon looked about. Gray everywhere. â€Å"I can’t make myself believe it,† he said. â€Å"About vegetation Upperside, I mean.† â€Å"It’s true, though. I’ve heard people say-Otherworlders, like yourself, who did see Trantor from space-that the planet looks green, like a lawn, because it’s mostly grass and underbrush. There are trees too, actually. There’s a copse not very far from here. I’ve seen it. They’re evergreens and they’re up to six meters high.† â€Å"Where?† â€Å"You can’t see it from here. Its on the other side of a dome. It’s-â€Å" The call came out thinly. (Seldon realized they had been walking while they had been talking and had moved away from the immediate vicinity of the others.) â€Å"Clowzia. Get back here. We need you.† Clowzia said, â€Å"Uh-oh. Coming.-Sorry, Dr. Seldon, I have to go.† She ran off, managing to step lightly despite her lined boots. Had she been playing with him? Had she been filling the gullible foreigner with a mess of lies for amusement’s sake? Such things had been known to happen on every world and in every time. An air of transparent honesty was no guide either; in fact, successful taletellers would deliberately cultivate just such an air. So could there really be six-meter trees Upperside? Without thinking much about it, he moved in the direction of the highest dome on the horizon. He swung his arms in an attempt to warm himself. And his feet were getting cold. Clowzia hadn’t pointed. She might have, to give him a hint of the direction of the trees, but she didn’t. Why didn’t she? To be sure, she had been called away. The domes were broad rather than high, which was a good thing, since otherwise the going would have been considerably more difficult. On the other hand, the gentle grade meant trudging a distance before he could top a dome and look down the other side. Eventually, he could see the other side of the dome he had climbed. He looked back to make sure he could still see the meteorologists and their instruments. They were a good way off, in a distant valley, but he could see them clearly enough. Good. He saw no copse, no trees, but there was a depression that snaked about between two domes. Along each side of that crease, the soil was thicker and there were occasional green smears of what might be moss. If he followed the crease and if it got low enough and the soil was thick enough, there might be trees. He looked back, trying to fix landmarks in his mind, but there were just the rise and fall of domes. It made him hesitate and Dors’s warning against his being lost, which had seemed a rather unnecessary piece of advice then, made more sense now. Still, it seemed clear to him that the crease was a kind of road. If he followed it for some distance, he only had to turn about and follow it back to return to this spot. He strode off purposefully, following the rounded crease downward. There was a soft rumbling noise above, but he didn’t give it any thought. He had made up his mind that he wanted to see trees and that was all that occupied him at the moment. The moss grew thicker and spread out like a carpet and here and there grassy tufts had sprung up. Despite the desolation Upperside, the moss was bright green and it occurred to Seldon that on a cloudy, overcast planet there was likely to be considerable rain. The crease continued to curve and there, just above another dome, was a dark smudge against the gray sky and he knew he had found the trees. Then, as though his mind, having been liberated by the sight of those trees, could turn to other things, Seldon took note of the rumble he had heard before and had, without thinking, dismissed as the sound of machinery. Now he considered that possibility: Was it, indeed, the sound of machinery? Why not? He was standing on one of the myriad domes that covered hundreds of millions of square kilometers of the world-city. There must be machinery of all kinds hidden under those domes-ventilation motors, for one thing. Maybe it could be heard, where and when all the other sounds of the world-city were absent. Except that it did not seem to come from the ground. He looked up at the dreary featureless sky. Nothing. He continued to scan the sky, vertical creases appearing between his eyes and then, far off It was a small dark spot, showing up against the gray. And whatever it was it seemed to be moving about as though getting its bearings before it was obscured by the clouds again. Then, without knowing why, he thought, They’re after me. And almost before he could work out a line of action, he had taken one. He ran desperately along the crease toward the trees and then, to reach them more quickly, he turned left and hurtled up and over a low dome, treading through brown and dying fernlike overgrowth, including thorny sprigs with bright red berries. 24. Seldon panted, facing a tree, holding it closely, embracing it. He watched for the flying object to make its appearance again so that he could back about the tree and hide on the far side, like a squirrel. The tree was cold, its bark was rough, it gave no comfort-but it offered cover. Of course, that might be insufficient, if he was being searched for with a heat-seeker, but, on the other hand, the cold trunk of a tree might blur even that. Below him was hard-packed soil. Even in this moment of hiding, of attempting to see his pursuer while remaining unseen, he could not help wondering how thick the soil might be, how long it had taken to accumulate, many domes in the warmer areas of Trantor carried forests on their back, and whether the trees were always confined to the creases between domes, leaving the higher regions to moss, grass, and underbrush. He saw it again. It was not a hypership, nor even an ordinary air-jet. It was a jet-down. He could see the faint glow of the ion trails corning out at the vertices of a hexagon, neutralizing the gravitational pull and allowing the wings to keep it aloft like a large soaring bird. It was a vehicle that could hover and explore a planetary terrain. It was only the clouds than had saved him. Even if they were using heat-seekers, that would only indicate there were people below. The jet-down would have to make a tentative dive below the banked ceiling before it could hope to know how many human beings there were and whether any of them might be the particular person the patties aboard were seeking. The jet-down was closer now, but it couldn’t hide from him either. The rumble of the engine gave it away and they couldn’t rum that off, not as long as they wished to continue their search. Seldon knew the jet-downs, for on Helicon or on any undomed world with skies that cleared now and then, they were common, with many in private hands. Of what possible use would jet-downs be on Trantor, with all the human life of the world under domes, with low cloud ceilings all but perpetual-except for a few government vehicles designed for just this purpose, that of picking up a wanted person who had been lured above the domes? Why not? Government forces could nor enter the grounds of the University, but perhaps Seldon was no longer on the grounds. He was on top of the domes which might be outside the jurisdiction of any local government. An Imperial vehicle might have every right to land on any part of the dome and question or remove any person found upon it. Hummin had not warned him of this, but perhaps he had merely not thought of doing so. The jet-down was even closer now, nosing about like a blind beast sniffing out its prey. Would it occur to them to search this group of trees? Would they land and send out an armed soldier or two to beat through the copse? And if so, what could he do? He was unarmed and all his quicktwist agility would be useless against the agonizing pain of a neuronic whip. It was not attempting to land. Either they missed the significance of the trees Or- A new thought suddenly hit him. What if this wasn’t a pursuit vessel at all? What if it was part of the meteorological testing? Surely, meteorologists would want to test the upper reaches of the atmosphere. Was he a fool to hide from it? The sky was getting darker. The clouds were getting thicker or, much more likely, night was falling. And it was getting colder and would get colder still. Was he going to stay out here freezing because a perfectly harmless jet-down had made an appearance and had activated a sense of paranoia that he had never felt before? He had a strong impulse to leave the copse and get back to the meteorological station. After all, how would the man Hummin feared so much-Demerzel-know that Seldon would, at this particular time, be Upperside and ready to be taken? For a moment, that seemed conclusive and, shivering with the cold, he moved out from behind the tree. And then he scurried back as the vessel reappeared even closer than before. He hadn’t seen it do anything that would seem to be meteorological. It did nothing that might be considered sampling, measuring, or testing. Would he see such things if they took place? He did not know the precise sort of instruments the jet-down carried or how they worked. If they were doing meteorological work, he might not be able to tell.-Still, could he take the chance of coming into the open? After all, what if Demerzel did know of his presence Upperside, simply because an agent of his, working in the University, knew about it and had reported the matter. Lisung Randa, that cheerful, smiling little Easterner, had suggested he go Upperside. He had suggested it quite forcefully and the subject had not arisen naturally out of the conversation; at least, not naturally enough. Was it possible that he was a government agent and had alerted Demerzel somehow? Then there was Leggen, who had given him the sweater. The sweater was useful, but why hadn’t Leggen told him he would need one earlier so he could get his own? Was there something special about the one he was wearing? It was uniformly purple, while all the others’ indulged in the Trantorian fashion of bright patterns. Anyone looking down from a height would see a moving dull blotch in among others that were bright and know immediately whom they wanted. And Clowzia? She was supposedly Upperside to learn meteorol ogy and help the meteorologists. How was it possible that she could come to him, talk to him at ease, and quietly walk him away from the others and isolate him so that he could easily be picked up? For that matter, what about Dors Venabili? She knew he was going Upperside. She did not stop it. She might have gone with him, but she was conveniently busy. It was a conspiracy. Surely, it was a conspiracy. He had convinced himself now and there was no further thought of getting out from the shelter of the trees. (His feet felt like lumps of ice and stamping them against the ground seemed to do no good.) Would the jet-down never leave? And even as he thought that, the pitch of the engine’s rumble heightened and the jet-down rose into the clouds and faded away. Seldon listened eagerly, alert to the smallest sound, making sure it was finally gone. And then, even after he was sure it was gone, he wondered if that was just a device to flush him out of hiding. He remained where he was while the minutes slowly crawled on and night continued to fall. And finally, when he felt that the true alternative to taking the chance of coming out in the open was that of freezing into insensibility, he stepped out and moved cautiously beyond the shelter of the trees. It was dusky twilight, after all. They couldn’t detect him except by a heat-seeker, but, if so, he would hear the jet-down return. He waited just beyond the trees, counting to himself, ready to hide in the copse again at the smallest sound-though what good that would do him once he was spotted, he couldn’t imagine. Seldon looked about. If he could find the meteorologists, they would surely have artificial light, but except for that, there would be nothing. He could still just make out his surroundings, but in a matter of a quarter of an hour, half an hour at the outside, he would not. With no lights and a cloudy sky above, it would be dark-completely dark. Desperate at the prospect of being enveloped in total darkness, Seldon realized that he would have to find his way back to the crease that had brought him there as quickly as possible and retrace his steps. Folding his arms tightly around himself for warmth, he set off in what he thought was the direction of the crease between the domes. There might, of course, be more than one crease leading away from the copse, but he dimly made out some of the sprigs of berries he had seen coming in, which now looked almost black rather than bright red. He could not delay. He had to assume he was right. He moved up the crease as fast as he might, guided by failing sight and by the vegetation underfoot. But he couldn’t stay in the crease forever. He had come over what had seemed to him to be the tallest dome in sight and had found a crease that cut at right angles across his line of approach. By his reckoning, he should now turn right, then sharp left, and that would put him on the path toward the meteorologists’ dome. Seldon made the left turn and, lifting his head, he could just make out the curve of a dome against the fractionally lighter sky. That had to be it! Or was that only wishful thinking? He had no choice but to assume it wasn’t. Keeping his eye on the peak so that he could move in a reasonably straight line, he headed for it as quickly as he could. As he got closer, he could make out the line of dome against sky with less and less certainty as it loomed larger and larger. Soon, if he was correct, he would be going up a gentle slope and when that slope became level he would be able to look down the other side and see the lights of the meteorologists. In the inky dark, he could not tell what lay in his path. Wishing there were at least a few sorts to shed some light, he wondered if this was how it felt to be blind. He waved his arms before him as if they were antennae. It was growing colder by the minute and he paused occasionally to blow on his hands and hold them under his armpits. He wished earnestly he could do the same for his feet. By now, he thought, if it started to precipitate, it would be snow-or, worse yet, sleet. On†¦ on. There was nothing else to do. Eventually, it seemed to him that he was moving downward. That was either wishful thinking or he had topped the dome. He stopped. If he had topped the dome, he should be able to see the artificial light of the meteorological station. He would see the lights carried by the meteorologists themselves, sparkling or dancing like fireflies. Seldon closed his eyes as though to accustom them to dark and then try again, but that was a foolish effort. It was no darker with his eyes closed than with them open and when he opened them it was no lighter than when he had had them closed. Possibly Leggen and the others were gone, had taken their lights with them and had turned off any lights on the instruments. Or possibly Seldon had climbed the wrong dome. Or he had followed a curved path along the dome so that he was now facing in the wrong direction. Or he had followed the wrong crease and had moved away from the copse in the wrong direction altogether. What should he do? If he was facing the wrong direction, there was a chance that light would be visible right or left-and it wasn’t. If he had followed the wrong crease, there was no possible way he could return to the copse and locate a different crease. His only chance lay in the assumption that he was facing the right direction and that the meteorological station was more or less directly ahead of him, but that the meteorologists had gone and had left it in darkness. Move forward, then. The chances of success might be small, but it was the only chance he had. He estimated that it had taken him half an hour to move from the meteorological station to the top of the dome, having gone partway with Clowzia and sauntering with her rather than striding. He was moving at little better than a saunter now in the daunting darkness. Seldon continued to slog forward. It would have been nice to know the time and he had a timeband, of course, but in the dark. He stopped. He wore a Trantorian timeband, which gave Galactic Standard time (as all timebands did) and which also gave Trantorian local time. Timebands were usually visible in the dark, phosphorescing so that one could tell time in the quiet dark of a bedchamber. A Heliconian timeband certainly would; why not a Trantorian one? He looked at his timeband with reluctant apprehension and touched the contact that would draw upon the power source for light. The timeband gleamed feebly and told him the time was 1847. For it to be nighttime already, Seldon knew that it must be the winter season.-How far past the solstice was it? What was the degree of axial tipping? How long was the year? How far from the equator was he at this moment? There was no hint of an answer to any of these things, but what counted was that the spark of light was visible. He was not blind! Somehow the feeble glow of his timeband gave him renewed hope. His spirits rose. He would move on in the direction he was going. He would move for half an hour. If he encountered nothing, he would move on five minutes more-no further-just five minutes. If he still encountered nothing, he would stop and think. That, however, would be thirty-five minutes from now. Till then, he would concentrate only on walking and on willing himself to feel warmer (He wiggled his toes, vigorously. He could still feel them.) Seldon trudged onward and the half hour passed. He paused, then hesitantly, he moved on for five more minutes. Now he had to decide. There was nothing. He might be nowhere, far removed from any opening into the dome. He might, on the other hand, be standing three meters to the left-or right-or short-of the meteorological station. He might be two arms’ lengths from the opening into the dome, which would not, however, be open. Now what? Was there any point in shouting? He was enveloped by utter silence but for the whistling of the wind. If there were birds, beasts, or insects in among the vegetation on the domes, they were not here during this season or at this time of night or at this particular place. The wind continued to chill him. Perhaps he should have been shouting all due way. The sound might have carried a good distance in the cold air. But would there have been anyone to hear him? Would they hear him inside the dome? Were there instruments to detect sound or movement from above? Might there not be sentinels just inside? That seemed ridiculous. They would have heard his footsteps, wouldn’t they? Still- He called out. â€Å"Help! Help! Can someone hear me?† His cry was strangled, half-embarrassed. It seemed silly shouting into vast black nothingness. But then, he felt it was even sillier to hesitate in such a situation as this. Panic was welling up in him. He took in a deep, cold breath and screamed for as long as he could. Another breath and another scream, changing pitch. And another. Seldon paused, breathless, turning his head every which way, even though there was nothing to see. He could not even detect an echo. There was nothing left to do but wait for the dawn. But how long was the night at this season of the year? And how cold would it get? He felt a tiny cold touch sting his face. After a while, another. It was sleeting invisibly in the pitch blackness. And there was no way to find shelter. He thought: It would have been better if that jet-down had seen me and picked me up. I would be a prisoner at this moment, perhaps, but I’d be warm and comfortable, at least. Or, if Hummin had never interfered, I might have been back in Helicon long ago. Under surveillance, but warm and comfortable. Right now that was all he wanted-to be warm and comfortable. But at the moment he could only wait. He huddled down, knowing that however long the night, he dared not sleep. He slipped off his shoes and rubbed his icy feet. Quickly, he put his shoes back on. He knew he would have to repeat this, as well as rubbing his hands and ears all night long to keep his circulation flowing. But most important to remember was that he must not let himself fall asleep. That would mean certain death. And, having carefully thought all this out, his eyes closed and he nodded off to sleep with the sleet coming down. How to cite Prelude to Foundation Chapter 5 Upperside, Essay examples

Kill A Mocking Bird By Lee Essays - To Kill A Mockingbird

To Kill A Mocking Bird By Lee In the novel ?To Kill a Mockingbird' by Harper Lee the main setting of Maycomb County, a southern American county is of great importance to the novel. Maycomb defines the actions people take. It is the kind of town where you expect this kind of prejudice, divisions and narrow-mindedness to take place. The novel is set in the 1930's. The world situation is one of strife and hardship because of the Great Depression. This trouble and difficulty had spread to America and slowly bleed into Maycomb County, where the depressed economy made it hard for the townspeople to make ends meet. Most of Maycomb's farming community was out of the job. Scout best sums up the situation faced by Maycomb County with the words, ?There was no hurry because there was nowhere to go, nothing to buy and no money to buy it with, nothing to see outside the boundaries of Maycomb County.' The previous quote also indicates the extent of how poor the Maycomb community is. That not may people have travelled outside Maycomb to see the rest of the world because they did not have enough money. This leads to a narrow-minded community. ?Maycomb had recently been told it has nothing to fear but to fear itself,? this quote further shows prevalence of narrow-mindedness amongst the community. Their views have not been changed over time the just believe what their ancestor believed. ?You might hear some ugly talk about it (Atticus' case), but do one thing for me if you will: you just hold your head high and keep those fists down,' Atticus tells Scout. This is an example of the narrow-mindedness of the town, as they take their anger, of Atticus defending Tom Robinson, out on Scout. For example, even Scout's cousin calls Atticus a ?nigger lover' and takes his families anger of Atticus' case out on Scout. This narrow-mindedness in a community as small a Maycomb leads to divisions and prejudice. The main division and prejudice is between the blacks and the whites. For example when Lula confronts Calpurnia, ? You ain't got no business bringin' white chillun here-they got their church, we got our'n.? This shows the prejudice from the blacks to whites. This is a small part of the division and prejudice between the blacks and whites. The prejudice from the whites to the blacks is enormous. In the novel, the main prejudice is from most of the white community, to mainly Tom Robinson and the rest of the black community. The blacks were frequently referred to as ?niggers' and ?trash' There are also economic divisions and prejudice, which take place because of the setting. The division in the novel is mainly between the whole town and the Ewells. ?No economic fluctuations changed their status- people like the Ewells lived as guests of the country in prosperity as well as in the depths of a depression,? this is an example of many people not liking the Ewells because of their lazy attitude and economic position. Furthermore, the social division and prejudice is a main part of the novel. ?There's four kinds of folks in the world. There's the ordinary kind like us and the neighbours, there's the kind like the Cunninghams out in the woods, the kind like the Ewells down at the dump and the Negroes. The blacks are still held below everybody but this shows the social barriers that exist amongst the people in Maycomb. In conclusion, the southern setting of Maycomb County acts a backbone for the novel. Without it most of the events would not be relevant or even not exist. The black and white division and prejudice would not be as strong. Being a poor community Maycomb had narrow-minded views; this will cease to exist if Maycomb was a city centre. That is why I feel Maycomb, as a setting, is of such an immense importance to the novel.