Elie Wiesel's Night-Personal Narrative

On Wednesday 29th of September 1983, two cyclist seen a taxi driver in trouble. He was being held down and strangled by a passenger of George Murdoch, 58.

In the novel Night, the word night contained great significance and has very deep meaning. Elie’s memory of everything in this time period is dark and tragic. It is called Night to show what he felt like during this whole time period, and it felt like one long, painful night to him. Night represents the pain, fear, death, and darkness from Elie’s past.

Primarily, the murderer explained the process of murder, he was describing all the little details that an insane person would not have remembered. “The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence. First of all I dismembered the corpse. I cut off the head and the arms and the legs.” An insane person

Throughout Night characters are revealed directly. Elie’s observations, descriptions, and narrations show us character development. Methods utilized frequently are interactions between people, family bonds, descent into death, desperation for survival, indifference to the well-being of others, as well as generosity and selflessness to their fellow man.

In chapter one of Night by Elie Wiesel, the some of the characters of the story are introduced and the conflict begins. The main character is the author because this is an autobiographical novel. Eliezer was a Jew during Hitler’s reign in which Jews were persecuted. The book starts out with the author describing his faith. He is Jewish, but he wants to go deeper into his religion and learn more about it. He becomes good friends with a man named Moishe the Beadle. Moishe is very knowledgeable about the religion and he teaches Eliezer a lot.

In chapter seven of Night, by Elie Wiesel, one of the most emotional scenes is shared. The Jews are being transported to a different location and the officers begin to throw bread crumbs as a sort of sick, twisted game. They enjoy watching the Jews turn on each other and maim one another just for the smallest crumb of bread. In my cartoon, the first quadrant is the scene where young Eliezer talks about the train ride and how claustrophobic everyone became due to the space provided and the amount of Jews crammed in. The next frame is of the father crawling out of the mob while our main character sat watching. His father was next to him asleep and it puzzles me to think about what I would 've done if I were in Eliezer’s shoes. The third frame

Entry 1: I was returning home to Washington when I heard the dreadful news. The Army of Northern Virginia surrendered to Union General Grant after a crushing defeat. I talked with two of my loyal companions David Herold and Lewis Powell telling them that Abraham Lincoln will not be the president anymore after I am through with him.

Night is a book written by Elie Wiesel in which he tells his stories and experiences in the Nazi concentration camps at Auschwitz and Buchenwald during the Holocaust and Second World War.

After reading more of Elie Wiesel’s haunting life story, he describes the horrendous things he witnessed while in the concentration camp and, how the prisoners were treated in the most gruesome ways. When they first get to Auschwitz, the Jews are given a number then doctors use needles to brand it onto each captive’s forearm. From then on the prisoners were not known by name but, by their number. This was just one of the degrading things that the Jews were forced to endure. Another hardship they faced was the verbal and physical abuse not only from the guards but, from the other prisoners as well. The prisoners were physiologically abused by the Gestapo by being forced to watch the public hangings of disobedient prisoners. Then they would

The car squealed to a stop and I jumped out of the dinged up vehicle. I ran on the cement ramp that led me down to the Wilmington Friends Meeting’s undercroft door like I would usually do on a Wednesday evening. Grasping the cold metal vertical bar in my baseball sized fists, right over the left. I yanked, then again and again as the door clanked repeatedly. Realizing the door was locked I twirled around. Only to realize my dad vanished out of the alley. I started to panic and tears streamed down my pale face. Beating my fists “thud, thump, thud” onto the black chipped railing that led the path down the ramp. The alley where the car had once sat a few moments ago now was replaced with potholes here and there with grass growing through the cracks.

It’s a beautiful day in new york. The sun is warmer on your skin, there’s no clouds to be seen for miles, and grass is vibrant green with a few flew placed here and there. Sunny wakes me up with a leash in his mouth and wide smile. “I guess it’s time to wake up and take you on a walk!” I implied.

“Happy seventeenth birthday, Chloe!” shouted one of my close friends, Michelle. I smiled, trying to hide the sadness that I felt every year I heard those words. I knew that soon I would be forced to run again and start over somewhere new. “How many years has it been now?” I thought to myself. I realized that this was the 138th year of turning 17 and honestly, I do not know how I will be able to make it another year. I took a deep breath and headed to Chemistry. I went on with my day knowing that it would soon be over and I could finally head back home.

Just as he began to process these thoughts his mother entered the room in distress. “What happened? We heard screaming!” she exclaimed and hustled over to him.

Dad drove me to school so I could take my surrealistic painting to Art class. I figured I might as well work on it there, considering I now had to have a chaperone to work in my own art studio.

The gut-wrench feeling of guilt was present well throughout my childhood and I was known to be a liar. Every time I went to sleep, I would get nightmares of something terrible happening to me because of the lies I told. The feeling of being guilty never goes away, it is like the prey who always fear of their predator as long as they live. It stays with me throughout the day and when I tell another lie, the feeling of guilt intensifies, leaving me dejected.