Comparative Essay: Once More to the Lake and The Yellow Door House
"Once More to the Lake" by E.B. White, and "The Yellow Door House" by Joyce Maynard are short stories concerning the memories and strong emotions brought about by revisiting childhood places, and the desire to remember things the way they were. Both stories end by leaving the reader with a sense of loss-the same sense of loss that the author's experienced when realizing that the past is nothing more than a memory.White's story recounts childhood memories of traveling to Maine, the cabin they stayed in, and the nearby lake that he and his family boated, fished, and swam in. He describes his experience with these memories with a sense of duality and conflict-as if he were in a time warp. Similarly, Maynard recounts the memories and feelings related to the house she grew up in. Her family members called it "the yellow door house" because it had a yellow door. One gets the message that the house had great sentimental value to her-letting go of the past in lieu of reality was painful. Both writing styles are highly descriptive. Each author uses every word to its full potential without a lot of verbal clutter. It is quite easy to read the stories and vividly see every expressive detail. They don't recount their stories in
" The longing can be interpreted by the descriptive details and the emotional hue of her good memories with her father. Motor boats in those days didn't have clutches, and you would make a landing by shutting off the motor at the proper time and coasting in with a dead rudder. a way that simply explains to the reader what they felt or what happened. pulled his dripping trunks from the line where they had hung all through the shower, and wrung them out. "For years now, I have been telling my mother that it makes little sense to hold on to the yellow door house (and worry about tenants, make repairs, put away the Mexican tin soldiers every Labor Day and take them out again every Fourth of July). " Likewise, Maynard recounts her struggle with memory versus reality when she writes, "I'll pick up a stub of an oil pastel and hold it up to my nose, and a wave of feeling will wash over me that almost makes my knees weak. Both stories reveal an underlying sense of pain and anguish in the realization that what's gone is gone-the memories live only in their hearts and minds-but in reality the past has disappeared forever. This sensation persisted, kept cropping up all the time we were there. Don't want to know where they put their Christmas tree, or what sort of paintings they hang on their walls.
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