Novel review : The Tuesday with Morrie Chapter 20-23.
The Eleventh Tuesday We Talk About Our Culture
Morrie was lays on his side by his mouth open. Morrie’s disease was now dangerously close to his surrender spot, his lungs. He had been predicting he would die from choking, and nobody could not imagine a more terrible way to go. Sometimes he would close his eyes and try to draw the air up into his mouth and nostrils, and it seemed as if he were trying to lift an anchor.
Morrie believed in the inherent good of people. But he also saw what they could become. People are only mean when they’re threatened. In addition about what our culture does, That’s what our economy does. Even people who have jobs in our economy are threatened, because they worry about losing them. And when you get threatened, you start looking out only for yourself. You start making money a God. It is all part of this culture.
The Audiovisual, Part Three
The “Nightline” crew came back for its third and final visit. For the interview, which took place on a Friday afternoon, Morrie wore the same shirt he’d had on the day. The camera rolled, the third and final interview. Koppel asked if Morrie was more afraid now that death was near. Morrie said no; to tell the truth, he was less afraid. He said he was letting go of some of the outside world, not having the newspaper read to him as much, not paying as much attention to mail, instead listening more to music and watching the leaves change color through his window.
Toward the end of the interview, the camera zoomed in on Morrie-Koppel was not even in the picture, only his voice was heard from outside it and the anchor asked if Morrie had anything he wanted to say to the millions of people he had touched. Although he did not mean it this way, Mitch couldn’t help but think of a condemned man being asked for his final words.
The Fourteenth Tuesday We Say Good-bye
In the cold and damp day, Mitch walked up the steps to Morrie’s house. He walked slowly, taking his time, stepping on dead wet leaves that flattened beneath his feet. This was Morrie’s final. Morrie had canceled all of his appointments and had been sleeping much of the time, which was unlike him. He never cared for sleeping, not when there were people he could talk with. Mitch puts the food he has brought with him into the refrigerator soup, vegetable cakes, tuna salad. He apologized to Charlotte for bringing it. Morrie hadn’t chewed food like this in months, we both knew that, but it had become a small tradition. Sometimes, when you’re losing someone, you hang on to whatever tradition you can.
Mitch don’t know how to say good-bye. Morrie patted Mitch’s hand weakly, keeping it on his chest, and said I love you. His eyes got small, and then he cried, his face contorting like a baby who hasn’t figured how his tear ducts work. Mitch held him close for several minutes. He rubbed Morrie’s loose skin, stroked his hair. He puts a palm against his face and felt the bones close to the flesh and the tiny wet tears, as if squeezed from a dropper. Mitch likes to think it was a fleeting moment of satisfaction for his dear old professor: he had finally made him cry.
Graduation
Morrie died on a Saturday morning. His immediate family was with him in the house. Morrie had fallen into a coma two days after their final visit, and the doctor said he could go at any moment. Instead, he hung on, through a tough afternoon, through a dark night. Finally, on the fourth of November, when those he loved had left the room just for a moment to grab coffee in the kitchen, the first time none of them were with him since the coma began Morrie stopped breathing and he was gone.
The funeral was held on a damp, windy morning. The grass was wet and the sky was the color of milk. Although hundreds of people had wanted to attend, Charlotte kept this gathering small, just a few close friends and relatives.
In this novel we can learn that death is certain thing. Everybody will die. So before we get die, prepare yourself to become a better one.
Thank you
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