Ethan Frome: Creative Paper
Jen’s sky-blue eyes stared solidly at the letter in front of her, held by her shaking hands as she read each calamitous word. “And so I have to do this, I have to go. . .there is no choice, Jen, I’m sorry, I am”. Each piercing syllable rang through her ears. “Jen, the Friedan Army is world renowned, I’ll be safe, I’ll be fine…I’ll see you soon, I have to go now Jen, I’ll see you soon…”.
As each solitary tear drop dripped down her cheek, Jen stood resolute. To the sound of crackling lightning and ominous thunder overhead, Jen crumbled the letter and tossed it in to the fireplace, having now made up her mind.
In that pivotal moment, many years ago, Jen Insen began a journey. You see, in this world and age that Jen and Jonas lived in, peace was a rare commodity available to only the very few, and the very rich. Everyone else was sooner or later drafted into the army, and as good as they were, it was an inevitable death sentence. Only continuous drafting kept the army alive amid constant, lethal warfare. Jen and Jonas had met only 9 months before Jonas got the call, and after her constant begging and tears one solemn night, Jonas agreed to try to dodge the draft and skip town the next day. When Jen awoke, however, she awoke to find herself thunderstruck; Jonas was gone, and on the nightstand rested the sealed, horrific letter from him explaining his plight – he just could not skip out on his duty and let others die in his place. It just wasn’t in him. And just like that, he was gone.
The army only drafted and accepted men, and so Jen was left to the sympathetic words of the other women in her neighborhood, all in the same plight as her. Jen, however, had far from hung her head in defeat; she knew the army was not infallible, and if it was at all within her power, she was going to get Jonas back – one way or another.
* * * *
Jen growled to herself in frustration – these first couple of weeks in avid research was taxing; she learned everything she could about the army – where they camped, where they trained, even what they ate. She learned how they operated, how the chain-of-command fell. She learned which stations new draftees were sent to, and how rigorous each volunteer test was. When she was finally ready to take the plunge, she was anything but misinformed.
She picked
one hot and dry Sunday afternoon to begin her crusade; strapping on her
backpack and putting on her cap under her newly shortened hair, she stepped
outside of their cool,
“May I help you?” came a deep authoritative voice from behind a desk as a uniformed door man swung the door open.
Jen was a bit perturbed by the sinister looking administrative officer, but tried not to let it show. “Yes, Sir, I’m John Atkins, looking to volunteer and join the army to help our cause.”
“Your papers?” came the uninterested reply.
“Right here.”
“Alright, take a seat over there, and I’ll get back to you in a few. Johnson, take these over to processing.”
Jen took her seat in the poorly lit, damp entrance hall, trying to hide her intimidation and put on a straight, if not gruff, face. After about twenty minutes, the guard called her “name”, motioning her into another room.
“Alright, Mr. Atkins, everything looks in order. You’ll need to fill out these forms, turn them in, and check in to the barracks here. You’ll be stationed here for a couple of days until we can figure out where you’re going.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
Jen gratefully watched the large guard close the door behind him as he exited, and quickly proceeded to fill out the papers…one of which included a “Request-For-Transfer” form, exactly what she had been waiting for. This was her chance to get to Jonas. She could almost feel the dark room brighten as if the lights had been turned up a notch, the dank walls dry out as if the moisture was suddenly evaporated. Suddenly, she felt cool, calm and confident: everything was going to work out. She filed the papers and checked into the barracks with a smile on her face, feeling good about the day’s events.
* * * *
Jen watched the diminutive buildings in the distance, shrinking rapidly outside the glass of her plane window. So far, everything was working out perfectly. She was on her way to the Military Outpost “Jenai” in the Sepvian Jungle – exactly where her beloved Jonas had been stationed. The weather outside was sunny, the humidity next to nill; it was a truly perfect day.
After a few hours of coasting, the military transport plane touched down at the western airfield of Jenai, an overall pleasant flight, Jen thought to herself. Much better than she had expected of military transport, anyway. She checked in with her new commanding officer, Lt. Sergeant Tim Reinisch, and after checking in her new quarters in the barracks, promptly went to visit the Information desk. She found Jonas listed under the 12th Squadron Artillery – unfortunately, about 12 miles away from her division and out of reach for the time being. However, through a quick, careful cross-examination of the books, she discovered they would intercept each other on a reconnaissance mission in seven days; she had gone through this inane plan this far, she could go a little farther, seven more days wasn’t going to kill her, she figured. The cool Sepvian Jungle was unusually dry at this time of the year, making for a pleasant time as she waited and went on various other missions, both practice and real.
As the seventh day approached, Jen couldn’t help being infused with unbridled excitement and energy – this was her day. As her squadron began its foray into the jungle en route to rendezvous with Jonas’ squadron, the very trees seemed to part branches to move out of her way; drips of water running down the bark seemed to evaporate on sight, not a cloud to be seen in miles. Jen felt the warm tingling sensation of success and relief creeping in her with each step she took.
After about two hours into the jungle, Jen began to be distracted by certain things that seemed…out of place. The crippled body of a small animal lay against the bark of a tree – its back had been broken, its body charred. Jen felt the hair on the back of her neck stiffen in alarm; clouds began to form on the horizon. Odd, whistling sounds seemed to emanate from deep within the jungle as the wind began to pick up and whip around. Even Lt. Sergeant Reinisch looked around with a mysterious look – something wasn’t right, and everyone knew it. Yet they ignored their instincts, prodding on towards the clearing spot where they were to rendezvous. The closer they got, the worse Jen’s gut feeling got. The circle of woods surrounding the clearing seemed to have a sullen, forlorn look to them – the clouds now had complete control of the skies and a light rain had picked up.
As Jen, near the front of her squadron, pushed back some of the bramble on the outer edge of the circle of trees and stepped into the clearing, her heart jumped into her throat. The light rain turned into a steady downpour. Her eyes locked with Jonas’ startled, surprised eyes and for a millisecond felt sheer elation – and then she took the rest of the scene in. Jonas and the rest of his troop were gagged and tied, disarmed, disheveled, and beaten. As the rest of Jen’s squadron entered the clearing, cries of surprise began to echo through the jungle. Before anyone could so much as move, the hidden enemy emerged from within the underbrush, locking their guns on Jen and her squadron.
* * * *
As Jonas, struggling to deal with the barrage of emotions he was feeling, turned to the new sounds and voices coming from behind the outer circle of trees, he began to hope a rescue mission had been sent. When Jen came bristling through, though, that hope turned into pure surprise, elation, and then to fear. He struggled to keep his raging emotions in check, to rationalize, to figure out how this could be happening, to figure out exactly what was happening. Before he had the chance to rationalize any of it, he saw the shadowed figures of his capturers coming out unseen beneath the underbrush, and seeing the startling look on Jen’s face, realized this was no rescue mission. He tried to cry out against his gag, tried to give them some warning, but he could do little but watch helplessly. Through the thunder and lightning overhead, the enemy wordlessly locked weapons on the two surprised squadrons, and opened fire. Jonas sprang to his feet, still bound, and did his best to charge towards Jen – to try to do anything, to try to save her.
* * * *
Jen saw Jonas jump to his feet and charge toward her, as everything seemed to move in slow motion. She didn’t hear the screams of her fellow comrades as they fell, nor the cheers from the enemy as they slaughtered them. As she struggled to try to figure out what was going on, to react, to run to Jonas, to do something, a crackle of lightning shot through the jungle – right as she heard the trigger clicking behind her.
* * * *
Jonas tried to scream. He couldn’t. The gag held him too tight, even as he watched the man in the striped uniform fire his gun from behind a shocked and bewildered Jen. Jonas flinched from the crackling lightning that seethed through the jungle, than dived hopelessly towards Jen. Somehow, the bullet followed him down. Amidst the pouring rain and merciless thunderstorm, in that instant, Jonas’ life flashed before him.
* * * *
Jen felt the bullet hit her like a piercing dagger. Struggling to control her surprise, her emotions, she saw Jonas dive towards her – then she saw the bullet behind him. She cried out in pain and fear as she saw the bullet hit him, and as she collapsed to the ground on top of him, her tears joined the pelting drops of rain from the sky.
This story, still untitled, attempted to show several aspects that were evident in Ethan Frome. The main thing was the overriding contrasting theme, which, in this case, was wet and dry. When it was dry, it was supposed to represent Jen’s good mood, confidence, situation, etc., and the opposite of that when it was wet: panic, chaos, fear, etc. Whenever Jen felt like things were going good, the dry, “happy” weather was stressed, versus when danger approached and she began to doubt or feel fear, the stormy, uncertain weather took hold. This is parallel to the contrasting themes of light and dark in Ethan Frome, as well as the role weather plays as a reflection of Ethan’s mood.
Also, the story was written from three different viewpoints – the narrator’s, Jen’s, and Jonas’, although being dominated by Jen’s. This was to try to stress the idea of windows of perspective, and to such ends, one scene (the last one) was shown as if in slow-motion via two different characters, each showing their perspective of the same event.
Furthermore, the way the story opened with the narrator’s brief explanation then moved in to scene-by-scene type of stuff with Jen was also meant to at least partially fit with Ethan Frome’s frame story model.
Therefore, through those three main things (a combination of the essay options, but stressing the 2nd one about symbols), I tried to show parallels and similarities to techniques used by Edith Wharton in Ethan Frome.