That was my chance. When I was alone, I grabbed the mouse and clicked buttons at random. Elephant ears radiate heat to help keep these large animals cool, but sometimes the African heat is too much. “Looking for the Elephant” also appeared in the international literary anthology Words Without Borders. When I had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, I couldn’t go downstairs. I felt dissatisfied by something. Click here for instructions on how to enable JavaScript in your browser. I think someone is calling you over there. Letters that read: Daddy, we’re all well and we’re doing all right in school, we’ll study hard—and nothing more to say after that. I’m still living in this house. It wasn’t easy at first. MRU4: Dreams and Ghosts | microreadersunited. I was down to the last shot, number 0318 4158. There it is—a great big elephant. I was not afraid. The zookeeper who cared for the elephant was also missing, and the shackle that had been locked to the elephant’s leg remained lying on the ground of the elephant house. I had just broken up with him when I clicked the shutter. Not a chance! A nurse at an elderly living facility brought her son, Karl, to the nursing home. I bawled my eyes out. Even if I get a bigger room, I don’t feel like changing my desk anymore. The elephant followed the keeper in through the steel gate and disappeared. No longer does he view them as just people who want his money but he hopes that they are doing okay (his son, mother, daughter and brother). I guessed the elephant in that pen was an old bull. The second reason the dream is important is because it is after the dream that the narrator begins to let go, just as his father had told him. The words you know and love . Even at four years old, I was able to remember Bongshin Church. She was the one who cried the most among my father’s siblings. They ran into the ocean to swim and play with a ball. Check your inbox or spam folder to confirm your subscription. Sometimes I wait for his call. I pulled him by the hand. Black hairs are starting to poke up again on my grandmother’s head. I shot a magnolia just beginning to spread its petals, and I shot my old sneakers. Looking at their eager, expectant faces, he suddenly realised the absolute helplessness of his position. I looked at him with a sullen face. She’s especially fond of my father’s children, that is to say, her nieces: my sisters and me. Cannot look behind itself: Now I was sure. Why was it so hard to find a teahouse? If I hadn’t been able to get back home after the incident, this is not where I would be living now. I bought some new bookshelves. I was tense. The autopsy wasn’t able to determine whether her death was a suicide or a homicide. If we don’t have any, then I shell peanuts. When my youngest sister went away for a while, I called some of my other sister’s male friends and they helped me empty my room downstairs and move up here. All right, everyone, look this way! I said. I started waking up often around dawn. Elephant Analytics has 15 years of analytical experience and unique skills in numerical analysis and practical mathematics. To this day, I have never once opened that pot. I pressed the shutter just as it raised its long trunk. When I heard the Hey! I took up to the tenth picture in the pack, number 0318 4158, a portrait of my friend on her birthday—and when my youngest sister’s boyfriend came over, I got a shot of the two of them posed in the living room. I quickly turned on the light, pressed the film hard against my hot, sweaty palm to make it develop faster. The mahout i.e. In the room on the roof, the piles of books are steadily growing. I would also peek into the galleries near work. Don't Think of An Elephant! Who erased everything? Sometimes, when I go to Shinsadong or Gangnam, I look at the World Book Center. I sense that Carver want to point at him as a good but not so clever man. He used to write us twice a week. This was supposed to be my youngest sister’s room. An elephant has large, fan-shaped ears, long upper teeth called tusks, and a long, flexible nose called a trunk. His flabbergasted expression is still clear in my mind. As soon as it was gone, all the people left the front of the pen at the same time. For the first time, I understood the expression, “One day we found ourselves out on the street.”. How much longer can my mother climb up and down those stairs with the pain in her joints? Those who are left call my mother regularly. It is also through this dream of his father that the reader realizes that the narrator is taking on the role his father had, of supporting others. I greet Director Jong and Assistant Manager Pak politely. No one can remember the name of that island now. The room is dark. At the end of the letter he added this: Things deeply felt cannot help but last. I mean, I’m hoping it will figure out that I’m awake. With one pack of film you can take ten pictures—there were nine left. One day he came with a bunch of different self-improvement flyers. He wrote: We must change in order to remain the same. And somebody argued and started crying, but then, right away, they were all cackling with laughter again. How did the elephant look from a distance? There’s too much stuff in your room, my father worried. I didn’t say anything about it to my mother or my sisters. Yeosu is a place with so many nameless islands you couldn’t possibly count them all. Director Jong and Assistant Manager Pak kept chuckling. If I had gotten a shot of his face after that, it would have the number 0318 4150. We also learn that he is supporting his mother, sending her money every month, his ex-wife (alimony payments) and his two children. The elephant was farther than I had expected. Suddenly, I feel the sensation of someone gently holding my hand. For once, my grandfather, my seafaring uncles, and my aunts all gathered together in one place. Tongue will be published later this month. He said if I took it back to the place of purchase, they would exchange it for a regular Polaroid. Now the narrator appears to accept and embrace his role, understanding that there are more important things in life than money. A letter. Despite this the narrator tells George to drive the car as fast as he can. I walked faster, faster. The first time was the day he came back after cremating my aunt. He is in essence their security, without him their lives would become more unmanageable if not impossible. I remember that even after I went into the lecture hall, I couldn’t speak for a while and just sat there. I was afraid my uncle might be lying there dead. It is something that actually happened and there is a feeling of guilt or regret on the narrator’s part. She died on her birthday. Finally, I fell asleep with my Polaroid camera still in my hand. He shook his head. The joy of Polaroids is the short time you wait while they develop, being able to see your pictures right away, right there. In Elephant by Raymond Carver we have the theme of acceptance, struggle, security, letting go and dependency. She took me to a beauty parlor to alter my appearance. I ripped the flyers to shreds right in his face. The elephant: largest land animal on the face of the earth. Her reply: Well done, sis. In the end, for saving the house, I lost him. She said we would have to leave our house. It’s like burying winter kimchee—a layer of plastic spread inside the pot with the letters sealed up inside. The day I went to the zoo, I took three pictures: The elephant with its front feet on the rail, the elephant suddenly raising its trunk into the sky, wriggling its buttocks as it walks, the elephant trudging toward the setting sun with its head bowed low. Every character in the story appears to be reliant or dependent on the narrator for support and also appears to be struggling (just as the narrator is). The elephant that came to my room had lay down on that cramped floor and slept with its massive body curled up tight. These extended teeth can be used to protect the elephant's trunk, lift and move objects, gather food, and strip bark from trees. Small as an Elephant Summary. I give a dismissive laugh. Once in a while he calls me. I worked at that company for seven months. For the narrator this is the worst thing that can happen to him, to drink again. Now the lacquer is peeling from the edges in spots and the legs wobble, but it’s still usable. Excitement! Often I get dressed up and go to an Italian restaurant to eat pasta and drink wine. I’m not the happiest person in the world, but I’m not the most miserable, either. The cousins who took after their fathers were all slim and long-legged. I moved some of my books down to the living room. I held my breath and—click—I pressed the shutter as if I were on an ambush. The narrator studies the article meticulously, learning that the elephant ’s absence had been noticed the day before (May 18) by men from the school lunch company who delivered leftover scraps for the elephant to eat. Uncle Dosong, who saw Aunt Yonsook’s autopsy with his own eyes—two years after she died, he was diagnosed with liver cancer at Severance Hospital. It was good it was the funniest to read of all English class when I am eating cheese and ham sandwich. Every Polaroid picture has a serial number printed on it. Now and then the house moves—it squirms—and I think to myself, Ah, the elephant has come. The sun went down. I’m not as afraid of losing the house as I am of losing you, I blurted out to him, terrified. It took courage to go into the water. It was less than half an hour after we had dinner. They sleep standing up—though there are times when they sleep lying on their side. Not one of us three sisters knew how to swim. And after a while I didn’t feel the presence at all, not until the night after my uncle died. I stared a hole in her face, then said with a sigh, Ah, it’s Yonjong. My other aunts washed the dishes under the command of her loud voice. His brother asks him for a further $1000 and he continues to lend money to his daughter and his son, while still paying monthly payments to both his mother and his ex-wife. My father was drunk—he couldn’t stop the dry heaves. Once in a while I think about it. There wasn’t room to walk. I called my dead aunt’s name in the dark room: Aunt Yonsook? He stands there with his arms level with his shoulders, mirroring his dream of him sitting on his father’s shoulders. Aunt Yonsook had brought the food, but she hardly had time to eat anything. During times of drought, elephants even use their tusks to dig holes to find water underground. Not only is the narrator remembering his father again but more importantly he is letting go, as he did in the dream. When I was tired of reading, I would call someone on the pay phone. The African elephant is the largest of all elephant species and weighs up to eight tons. When I went downstairs at night to use the bathroom, I would accidentally step on the legs or stomachs of my family members sleeping in the dark on the floor of the living room. My father still worries that the room on the roof will collapse—his heart pounds—and I worry that his daughters’ possessions and books have invaded his bedroom. There’s nobody there. I go downstairs a lot, even when I’m reading a book or writing. Then he asks another thing. What did Orwell think about the ”must” of the elephant? Odong Island was visible in the distance. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that somebody was sitting at the foot of my bed or curled up on the floor where there was hardly space for a person to lie down. We went on a boat ride there. When my sisters get out of work late, they call me first, though I’m still asleep. Looking for the Elephant By Jo Kyung Ran Jo Kyung Ran is a winner of the Dongin Prize, Korea’s most prestigious literary award, and the author of the new novel Tongue. The presence terrified me—so much that I had to sleep with the light on for a long time. I saw my grandmother in the one picture that’s left of her. The soju was finished, and the watermelon, the octopus, the grilled bulgogi, the lettuce—all finished. Click here for instructions on how to enable JavaScript in your browser. I like your insight particularly with regard to the narrator getting into the car at the end of the story. She must have asked them to give me a perm. That was the night I first felt the strange presence in my room. I wish one of us would hurry up and get married and leave this house. I got closer: when it went left I ran that way, when it turned around I quickly ran back to the right. My palms were always clammy with sweat. The … But number 0318 4150 is the picture of my family. They replied it was calm but getting near it was dangerous. The sun was really hot. When I’m out of earshot, my father sadly complains that no one seems to notice the old cacti are blooming, and my mother gives us that look. Then, as if to say that it was nothing after all, it went clomping back again, retracing its steps. It’s like the anxious waiting at the door, and each time it opens, you think it might be the person you’ve been watching for. My father’s half-brothers and half-sisters drink way too much—they’re always fighting and crying. I had helped create the frames for that. A very windy day, and the park was jam-packed with people. Then Aunt Yonsook had a fight with her lover and jumped out of his fifth-floor apartment. I usually sleep lying straight, flat on my back. Both my grandmothers had thick black eyebrows. The death of the elephant signifies the weakness of Orwell's character. I couldn’t tell whether it had big tusks, so there was no way to know whether it was a male or a female. After killing my breath and lying there for a long time, I floated up from my body. I remember how happy I was when I unwrapped the present and saw it was the camera I had wanted so much. In Elephant by Raymond Carver we have the theme of acceptance, struggle, security, letting go and dependency. In the zoo, a chrysanthemum festival was opening. Jo Kyung Ran made her literary debut in 1996 when her short story “The French Optical” won the Dong-a Ilbo New Writer’s Contest. The elephant stood up after about 10 minutes and was taken to another location for treatment, before being returned to the scene of the accident in … It was his last present to me. My father’s older brother had borrowed money from him twice and then disappeared. I’ve been there only once since I became an adult. It’s multi-family housing now, but then it was a small single-story home with a narrow yard. My father put up a column in the downstairs living room to support my room on the roof. My family was afraid to talk about the dead. It was a few days after I saw the elephant. The five surviving siblings were all drunk, and they yelled and cried, clutching each other by the collar. Hey, Fatty Jo! With this being said, Britain was greedy for more control and land. After a little while I switch on the light. He felt that, in spite of all his reluctance, he would have to shoot the elephant, after all. We went to eat some fried chicken. When Elephant begins making an appearance in your life it represents a new, improved relationship with the Sacred Feminine in all Her aspects. The biggest elephant ever found weighed as much as 150 men. It was about himself, full of helplessness and regret. I got myself a TV set, a printer. He longs for his son to be happy and as a result continues to send him money so that he can go to Europe. 5. The funeral turned into utter chaos. Sometimes I would stay by myself at the office and read a book or spend a long time looking at the 4-D graphics they had been working on. The front teeth in its upper jaw grow into long tusks. He might be struggling in work and paying money to his family but he knows that drinking, ‘that was the worst thing that could have happened. It isn’t my dead grandmother, or Aunt Yonsook, or Uncle Dosong, and it isn’t some spirit of the house. This story offers a vivid, arresting portrait of a family, the physical and psychic spaces it inhabits, and the vexing impermanence of memory. Each blind man feels a different part of the elephant's body, but only one part, such as the side or the tusk. When I’m upset or my pride is injured, I sit at the table for an hour or two trimming anchovies. There is also a sense of irony in the closing section of the story. Finally, a little while ago, I sent her an e-mail: Yonjong, I wonder how everyone from back in those days remembers me. And where are they all now? (), Pingback: MRU4: Dreams and Ghosts | microreadersunited(). The build-up of finding the elephant is a metaphor itself showing the destructive power of imperialism: the elephant’s rampaging spree destroying homes, food shelves, and even killing a man whom Orwell described to have an expression of unendurable agony. An Elephant in the Garden. This is the sixth in a series of blogs about the elephant, which represents the economy, and the bird, which represents the future.. He gave the elephant a bun, and the elephant took it in its trunk and ate it. They quickly went through a whole pot of Dolsan mustard leaf kimchee. The elephant: It has weak eyes but its hearing and sense of smell are excellent. I never got another chance to get a picture of his face. Uncle, please don’t drink too much—I told him what he didn’t want to hear, like I was talking to my father. What is ironic about this meeting is the fact the reader is aware that George’s car remains unpaid for (mirroring all the money which the narrator is still waiting for from his family, they remain in debt just like George). It was a long way. Daddy is doing fine. Here we see the elephant in action, the giant, indifferent beast that Orwell is tasked with killing, with his small, virtually useless rifle. Who are you? My father left his hometown when he was nine, after his mother died. She cooked a puffer fish soup and committed suicide by eating it all by herself. As if I might try to steal it or something. The camera—I brought it back home and got a shot of my family gathered around the table. I ordered three packs of film at once. Like the so-called elephant in the room that no one talks about even though it is obvious, the “elephant in the brain” is human selfishness. He died two months later. The bird was out of its cage, but it stayed in the room. The construction of high-rise condominiums sets the events of the story in motion. I didn’t eat out with my coworkers and I didn’t socialize with them after work. There was a big desk, a wardrobe, a bed, a shiny sink. But even then he paced back and forth every day, anxious that the ceiling would collapse from the weight, and meanwhile I wondered if my parents could stretch their legs and sleep in a room so crammed with their daughters’ stuff. Ans: The elephant looked no more dangerous than a cow from a distance. Translation by Heinz Insu Fenkl. They said that the man who had been her lover took care of the funeral. These papers were written primarily by students and provide critical analysis of Shooting an Elephant by George Orwell. My father’s siblings berated her lover and accused him of murdering her. I can still hear that insistent voice calling me. The zookeeper opened the steel gate and came out. Author's Profile. And there’s another letter I could never read again. The house my father built was more solid than I thought. Jo Kyung Ran is a winner of the Dongin Prize, Korea’s most prestigious literary award, and the author of the new novel Tongue. My uncle went back down to Yeosu with his face black as a goat’s. I suppose it was no different from my parents keeping those dire things hidden from us three daughters. Because I don’t know when the elephant might come again. I could hear my aunts, uncles, and cousins all laughing even from deep underwater. I felt a coldness brush past my face. Not only is there a sense of letting go (driving the car fast) but there is a sense of freedom now within the narrator. How are you? But it wasn’t easy to find film for it. And now I can’t love him, and I can’t hate him anymore. Not a trace of anybody having been there. Feiwel and Friends, 2011. "Elephant by Raymond Carver.". He was quick, confident, agile as a seal. But no matter what position I sleep in, one of my arms stretches out—like it’s a habit—and ends up dangling down from the bed. Looking at her card, I saw that she was now a senior researcher at the Electronic Visual Media Research Center at the university. It was important and someone had to do it. I pointed outside the window where cars were whizzing by. Ans: A working elephant is equal to a huge and costly piece of machinery. We’d startle each other in the dark and scream, Who’s there!? It scares me that people keep dying. I started living in this house eleven years ago. I know that he privately dreams of going back there someday. In George Orwell’s “Shooting an Elephant”, the author begins with a definite statement about his views toward British Imperialism. Because its neck is short, it cannot look behind itself. I can still see myself standing inside that bookstore at the age of twenty-two, lost in some book. When I get a phone call, she puts the receiver outside my door and goes back downstairs. There was another sofa by the refrigerator, and I put bookshelves there, too. I went over to the next pen, to the Asian elephant. What we also know as readers is that the narrator lives alone, spending much of his time sitting in his chair at home too tired after work to do anything. The Burmese are unable to stop the elephant as no one in their whole population has a gun or any other weapon and seems to be … I stabbed a kitchen knife between the red bricks of the house. He was an interior designer who was often in and out of our office. When she got married, she was prettied up in a long dress with her black hair grown all the way down to her waist. Every time I dried my wet hair with the dryer, I thought to myself, Where shall I go today? He wrote: People cannot always live and love in the same way; nothing remains as it was at first. I read this short novel in a more pessimistic way: his need for his father was driven by love and the fact that he was a child, while other people lie to him to get their money. My father went down to Yeosu, showing off his three daughters like medals. Kindle Edition. The narrator is standing outside Smitty’s and George, a work colleague of the narrator pulls up and offers the narrator a lift. This elephant, in the pen, had been walking back and forth on the same path; once in a while it seemed lost in thought and paused with its thick legs bent, gazing out at us. 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