To Show And To Tell Character Analysis
In Phillip Lopate’s novel To Show and to Tell, he describes the process of characterization in memoir by saying, “I would further maintain than this process of turning oneself into a character is not about self absorbed navel gazing, but rather a potential release from narcissism” (25). In Lopate’s chapter “On the Necessity of Turning Oneself into a Character” he describes different ways that memoirists characterize themselves and how to improve your skills in that art. Chang-rae Lee is skilled in the concepts that Lopate stresses and certainly strays from narcissism. In his essay “Magical Dinners” by providing an honest depiction of his childhood memories as a Korean immigrant telling us who he is through the dramatization of his childhood quirks, vivid description of his environment growing up, and his attitudes towards his childhood behaviors. Chang-rae Lee is a master at what Lopate would call dramatizing yourself. He intricately illustrates his
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My dad has always been the cook in the house and now that we were away from him my sister and I were exiled to eating only the types of food that if you left it on the counter for a few months and revisited it, it would still look the same. It was a life of pizza rolls, hot pockets, kid cuisines, ramen noodles, and any other processed food that you can cook via microwave because Mom was at the bar but she didn’t trust us with the stove. I ate these foods rampantly and slowly I forgot what it felt like to be hungry or full. A few months after the move I began to see myself as a little pig girl: always eating, never clean, making noises that only seemed to bother people. It was like my life had turned into one of the Animorph books that I always stayed up so late reading. I would look at myself and the mirror and oink in disgust. I didn’t look like myself, or feel like myself. I just wasn’t
My dad has always been the cook in the house and now that we were away from him my sister and I were exiled to eating only the types of food that if you left it on the counter for a few months and revisited it, it would still look the same. It was a life of pizza rolls, hot pockets, kid cuisines, ramen noodles, and any other processed food that you can cook via microwave because Mom was at the bar but she didn’t trust us with the stove. I ate these foods rampantly and slowly I forgot what it felt like to be hungry or full. A few months after the move I began to see myself as a little pig girl: always eating, never clean, making noises that only seemed to bother people. It was like my life had turned into one of the Animorph books that I always stayed up so late reading. I would look at myself and the mirror and oink in disgust. I didn’t look like myself, or feel like myself. I just wasn’t