First Place Winner
Letters About Literature 2002
Level II
Dear Mr. Palahniuk,
I am reading the last page of
your book, Survivor, and I am currently traveling at 32 feet
per second, on course into the dusty Australian desert floor.
My eyes are mashed into the back of my head as the G's overcome
my body. I have reached terminal velocity. Sweat drips off
my fingers onto the pages, as I hope, I pray, that Tender
will live to see another day, that he will return to the real
world and be happy. I hope that somehow in the next three
paragraphs something will happen and it will all be OK again.
I imagine looking over into the seat next to me, seeing Tender
pressed back into his seat as his eyes gaze sadly at the cracked,
dry, desert sands rushing up to meet him. Tender's worn-out
heart is a desert of it's own. Today is a beautiful day. Impact
and darkness, fade to black, that's a wrap folks.
I drop the book with a sigh,
exiting your world as quickly as Tender's soul had exited
it in that last moment of human drama. The book is over, nothing
to see here, move along people. But I cannot. My mind is filled
with questions, maybes, what-ifs, if only this had happened.
Could this character, this person whose emotions and life
seemed so real to me, actually be dead? Is it crazy to mourn
the death of a book character? Needless to say, your book
had me caught from the very start, and my mind lingers on
the messages I think you were trying to get across.
I suppose this book was so appealing
to me because I could look at the world through Tender's eyes,
see the changing universe from his point of view, enter into
his very mind; I became Tender Branson. Tender's life and
eventual rise to fame really brought a lot of questions to
mind. In fact I would say I have many more questions than
answers. Is money and power really that important? What really
matters? Are some parts of our past better left forgotten?
Your book sparked in me an interest in the human psyche, how
we tick. What is it that compels us to succeed, to overcome
our past and to look ahead into the optimistic future?
I suppose Tender and I are alike
in the fact that we began just as unknowns in a huge, unforgiving
world. If I really think about it, I'm still nothing, even
though nothing in the world matters more to me than myself.
Survivor made me question whether or not I really wanted to
be somebody, to be in a huge, popular world where everything
is blinded by flashing light bulbs and everyone fights to
the death for 5 minutes in the limelight. I know that in your
book Tender was not cut out for this ordeal, for he was to
simple, as I now believe myself to be.
The last thing that struck me
about your book was it's unflinching look at the inevitableness
of death. It is hard for me to fathom, but yes, one day I
will be dead and rotting, food for worms, my soul departed
to a (hopefully) better place. We are all doomed and there
is no escaping it. No one close to me has ever died, so I
have no real experience, but I think your book brought me
a little closer to the idea of death. When Tender broke down
after learning of the death of his goldfish I felt as if I
had lost one of my own. And after the murder of his brother
(a hauntingly wonderful scene by the way, one of your best)
the emptiness I felt afterwards helped me to understand what
you were trying to say.
I got the impression throughout
your book that the one thing Tender really wanted was to have
his name remembered, because he did not want to be forgotten
like all the other Creedish, who's lives basically amounted
to nothing. He wanted to leave his mark on a world so full
of marks that there was no room left for his won. Whether
or not he did make a mark on his world is a matter of opinion,
although I can say for a fact that your book make a deep mark
in my life, after viewing the world through Tender's eyes.
May he rest in peace.
Sincerely,
Ben Sturgulewski
Ben Sturgulewski
10th Grade
Robert Service High School, Anchorage
Teacher: Mrs. Patti Irwin
