Written Task

Running Head : Creative Essay

Creative Essay based on Kazuo Ishiguro 's A Pale View of Hills

Student Name

Instructor Name

Class August 7 , 1945

Nagasaki

Dear Diary

I have decided that today , as I sit here in my little wooden cottage next to the river , I will refuse to think about the threats from the United States and the threat of this persistent war going on around me I will ignore the sound of U .S . military planes and their constant forays overhead . I will refuse to listen

to Radio Saipan , with all of its news of impending doom , nor will I read the news and its accounts of the threats from President Truman , who attempts to control the world from his safe little office overseas . No , instead I shall tend to myself , and the life which grows within me

I shall name my child Mariko , the name which means circle , for that is what she represents to me . A circle which has come back `round to this : the imminent destruction of our city , and our Japanese heritage Everything I have been taught to believe about pride , and honor , and the Japanese values which my parents hold dear , has already been destroyed by the Americans in their devastation of Hiroshima . What hope , then , do I have without believing in this circle of life which symbolizes our ability to survive

Should I worry about being displaced from my home ? No , I think not There is nothing much here but for the large open space of my traditional cottage , the tatami on the floor , the old tea set given to me by my mother . Will my daughter miss these things when they are gone Will she ever know of the life I was forced into before her birth ? No it is best to set such sentiments aside and lead her forth into a more modern world . For surely that is what must happen to Japan . As citizens we will be forced to make sacrifices and to leave the old ways in the past . My child will learn to speak English and she will be accepted in other societies . She must learn the Western way instead of longing for those pieces of the East which are buried beneath the rubble of war

Today , then , I shall go outside and harvest my little plot of onions and peas and greens . I will put them up carefully for meals so that I may subsist on good food when there is little to find at the market which could be gone tomorrow and where no one now dares to go . I shall bathe in the river which steadfastly flows through the town , undeterred by bombs and planes and soldiers . This land will never be the same , but it is here , now , and provides me with those things I will need to remain strong and raise my child . The river cannot be annihilated , and neither can my soul

Today , too , I shall drink of strong , black tea...