Ender's game (post 1)

Several days ago, I finished reading Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card. It was a fascinating read. In other words, the book was a page a turner. For me there was great deal of predictability of what is going to happen over the course of the storyline. However, the main draw to this book is not seeing the plot line unfold, but to see how Ender manages to get from point to the next. One knows what is going to happen, but not how it is going to happen per say.

There is a heavy current to this book in the way of morals. Is it moral to teach a child to become a weapon and especially do that by creating a game? The morals of war and conquering are also brought into question. The moral question of killing in self-defense is also present in this book. Could the death of two boys have been prevented or were they just causalities of war? Or, it is moral to drive children to the point of exhaustion in order to train them to go to war? Or tricking a child in to leading and destroying an entire race of people? Or is it moral to make someone into a killer against his or her inner nature? These are all question of morality are invoked in some form in the book. The answers to these questions are up to the reader.

I am currently taking Education Psychology. The entire book is littered with examples of various theories from Erik Erikson, Jean Piaget and Lev Vygotsky. It made learning the material for class bearable and interesting, since I could apply it to what I was reading.

There is a great deal of education psychology in the book. Ender struggles with obtaining identity. He is essentially trapped in Erik Erikson’s stage of identity versus role confusion. It appears that Ender reaches this stage earlier than most of his peers simply because of his genius. He has already proven to himself and other that he is industrious by the age or six. Erikson’s stage industry versus inferiority usually last ages six to eleven; however, Ender, at the beginning of the book, has moved into identity versus role confusion, which usually spans the ages of 12 to 18. Ender gets stuck here. He is confused about his role and who he is. He is set up to be a killer despite the fact that it is against his core nature. He does not want to hurt anyone, yet he ends up killing two classmates and then, destroying an entire race of people called the Buggers. He is set in an environment where everything is decided for him. The only place he has any creative control to foster his own identity is in a computer game, which takes him through scenarios and the creation of military strategy. Yet with both of these, he is being shaped into a well-honed weapon. Thus, Ender true identity remains in a state of confusion.

Simultaneously, Ender is also plagued with the next stage of Erikson’s development, intimacy versus isolation. Throughout the book, Ender is isolated from making friends with anyone. Every time he manages to form a bond with someone, he is separated from the person. So, not only is Ender in a constant state of role confusion, he is also in isolation.
I enjoyed the book highly and would recommend reading it. I ended up reading this particular book because of a friend of mine who numbers it among their favorites. There is a great deal more educational psychology contained in this book; however, this is starting to sound like a paper for school. This tone is starting to bug me, so I shall be finishing this post with the intention of writing sequel.

Great and Terrible Beauty

Great and Terrible Beauty, this is the book I just finished reading. It was an enjoyable book. It was one that I had difficulty putting down. Libba Bray certainly did her work when recreating the historical time period. She weaves magic into a rather bleak world for women who have resigned themselves to live by the rules set by their male counterparts. Bray manages to grab the essence of what it is like to be a 17 year old. The emotional driven desires paint and move the story forward as it colors the actions of the girls in the story. Though I found predictability to the story in places, it did not detract from the work. It is certainly worth reading.

Earlier today, I wrote a message about chapters of a person’s life ending to open to a new one. Here is a quote that so aptly suits my previous posting.

“…Dans chaque din, il y a un debut.”
My translation skills aren’t quite up to this one. “In the end, also, is a debutante?”
Mademoiselle LeFarge shakes her head, “In every end, there is also a beginning.”

I believe this is a very fitting quote for this day of reflection.

Chapters of Life

In a sense, the story of one's life can be equated to that of a giant book. We open and close chapters with the decision we make as time revolves around. When we are children these chapters move swiftly without one taking notice that they have closed a chapter and are beginning another. As we get older, there are times when one can feel the chapter closing and that sadness that comes with its ending. However, there is always a new chapter begin foreshadowed in the older chapters and looming just on the horzion of life itself. This new chapter for as thrilling as it seems also comes with a mixture of fear and apprehension of the unknown possibilities.


In my life, I know I have seen the beginning and closing of several chapters. Each time one ends there is a longing, as if I lost a good friend. Yet, each time a new chapter opens, there is excitement for adventure. Over a year ago, I chose to convert to Judaism, which has been the best decision I have ever made about my life and its path. This decision sharply closed one chapter and opened another. This new chapter that started with the decision to convert and will end when my conversion is complete. One of the things I had to do to complete my conversion was move into an apartment under the eruv. It took forever me forever to move out. Last night, I handed in the keys. I wanted nothing more than to cry hard.

That apartment was the first place I had felt safe in a long time, a very long time. At first, it was just walls, but the end of two years, it was my home. There I was allowed to be myself for the first time in my life since childhood and make the decisions that affect my life. My childhood started to die around age 10. Leaving such a place without having garentees about where I would be moving into having the same general feeling.

I am still unsure of myself in the new place. Except pushing myself beyond my limits and collasping face first into bed, I have not slept more than five and half hours a night. I know I need more like 7 hours at least a night to function properly. Things are getting better. The desire to sleep in my new place as opposed to the old has definately shifted. My sleep schedule should even out as my course schedule does, which will be in the next week or so.

Last night all I wanted to do was curl up and bawl my eyes out. My heart ached. Today, the sorrow hangs lingering, but excitement for the future is taking hold. I chose this path. I can feel the ending and the beginning within hands reach. Though I cannot give a date for this chapter ending I know where it looms in my future, which I suppose is something that is rare and beautiful. I guess it is the same feeling one would have about finishing college and getting ready to start in the real world.

We all have chapters, some bigger, some smaller. Each chapter holds its joy and its pain. We get to shape these chapter of life and leave an imprint of our story behind for others to hear and bear witness too. This is one of those intrinsic beauties in life.