Week 7 – ENGL329 – Humanity

This week we started on Patrick White’s Riders in the Chariot. This weeks blog topic is a fictional story of the stereotypical views based on certain exterior aesthetics of certain people.

There he sat, having his coffee on a park bench, reading the Quran. His beard was long, he was wearing a long traditional islamic white coat. You can see as people walk by him, look at him with fearful eyes, judging eyes. People, constantly looking at him, being anxious, maybe they thought that there is something more to come.

He notices the people are aware of him, but he ignores them. This was probably an ordinary Friday afternoon for him. He has the urge to preach that what is presented by the media does not define him. Maybe he has tried before and has no effect.

He puts the Quran back into his bag, prepares to leave and stands up. A majority of the people in the park begin to anxiously walk back as he begins to walk. As he walks he sees a homeless man, kneels opens his bag and gives him some lunch and a bottle of water.

Everyone stood in shock, you can see the disgust they had in themselves. They allowed stereotypical views to manipulate there minds and how they see things in the world.

This man, his belief, who has been portrayed in the media as someone to be aware of has just represented the humanity in this world.




  1. Hey Mahdi

    The story does represent society today and their caution towards those of an Islamic faith. However I think it needs some work in descriptions.
    How old is the man? Does he have the stereotypical black beard or does he have perhaps a red or brown beard?
    There is no mention of a bag until he reaches the homeless man. What type of bag is it? How do we know the man is homeless? Is he perhaps unkempt with shaggy grey hair that is matted, looking as though he has dreadl9cks, Nottingham by choice but by his inability to wash his hair.

    A writer needs to think of these things. I once wrote a story in which a young girl hands her father (who is paralysed in a hospital bed) a bunch of flowers. The story was good and won an award for literature, but when I read it to a famous novelist, she asked “what type of flowers were they?”
    I said that it didn’t really matter.
    She said, ” Oh but it does. You are trying to create a picture in my mind and I need to know. It’s your job as the writer to know”.
    So now I pass her wisdom to you my friend.




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