Writing Log 3B

After reading “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson, I had two hotspots that interested me. My first hotspot was on page 62 when it said “Tessie Hutchinson was in the center of a cleared space by now, and she held her hands out desperately as the villagers moved in on her... a stone hit her on the side of her head.” This was one of my hotspots because during the whole story I thought that it would have to do with someone picking a piece of paper and an amount of money would be on it that that person would win but instead, they were all looking for a paper with a big pencil mark on it to decide who would be hit with stones. I think it's odd that one day every month they would meet to draw for something like this, and it was a ritual for the town. Why would you meet to hurt someone in your town knowing that that someone could be you? I can't imagine what it would be like to see a child who was being attacked by stones or even a child seeing one of their parents being attacked.
My second hotspot wasn't really a hotspot until I finished reading the entire story and I saw what was going on. It was on page 57 when a few towns people said “Bill, she made it after all.” This is referring to Mrs. Hutchinson arriving late for the lottery. This is a hotspot for me because I find it weird that everyone was joking and being friendly about her being there and almost missing out. It's weird that the whole town is so close and then at the end, you end up throwing stones at them. They were all happy she arrived, and they all also had no problem throwing stones at her. It's also ironic that she was late and almost missed and it when she was the one in the end who was chosen to be attacked. How do you remain friends with the people that throw things at you or your children like it's nothing? Do they talk about it over dinner or do they act like it never happened? I wonder if you're allowed to skip out? I wonder what happens if you're pregnant?
In the beginning of the story it talks about young boys collecting stones. At first I thought it was just something they would do while they're bored but it turns out, those stones are the ones that the people of the town use to throw at the chosen person. How do you go collecting stones knowing that they could be used on your sister, brother, mother or father? That would be a cruel world to be raised in. It just blows my mind that something like this is considered “normal” in a place. If I had a choice, I would not play that lottery.

After reading “How To Tell A True War Story” by Tim O'Brien, I had two hotspots that caught my attention. The first hotspot was on page 95. This was when the story says “ He's nineteen years old- it's too much for him- so he looks at you with those big sad gentle killer eyes and says, cooze, because his friend is dead, and because it's so incredibly sad and true: she never wrote back.” This was one of my hotspots for more than one reason. First, I was shocked when I read that he was only nineteen. It was shocked because before his age was told, the story told so many memorable times with his friend that it made it seem older, like a thirty year old man. It was sad to me that he had been through that many rough events in his life and he was only my age. Not just the rough war stories, but the fact that his best friend was already dead. If my best friend was killed tomorrow, I honestly don't know what I'd do with myself. Probably go crazy for a little while. The fact that he put his heart and soul into a letter that was helping him cope with the loss and received no response at all, definitely made the situation much worse and harder to handle. This was also a hotspot for me because in the quote he is called a killer. A nineteen year old killer. I know he is in war but that makes me think of my brother for some reason. He's nineteen and if he was called a killer, I also don't know how I would live with myself. Obviously, the circumstances are totally different. My brother has not gone to war. I do, however, have friends that are in the Marines and Army that are my age. I doubt they've killed someone but what if they have? Someone I know killing someone. I can't fathom the idea in my head.
My second hotspot was on page 96. The story says “.. and when he died it was almost beautiful” . This caught my attention because I have never thought of death and beauty going hand-in-hand with one another. Beautiful is the last word that comes to my mind when I think of something like that. I understand what the story is saying and how the author is describing the event but I just found it startling. Later in the story, on page 94, the author goes back and explains the death of the soldier that was “beautiful”. It says “ The parts were just hanging there, so Dave Jensen and I were ordered to shinny up peel him off (off a tree).” This does not sound beautiful at all. Not even close to what I imagine when I hear the word beautiful.