Paper Weights and Other Mortal Things

I heard my doctor sigh. As with all the friends I have, he too felt sad today. I had a few days left apparently, a year at most.

The body was eating itself and he couldn't know why. He had been struggling for a while with trying to know the reason.

As he apologized at the failure of his diagnosis, I smirked at him, I told him it must be this gravely serious disease called life that could be killing me.

He hated it whenever I cracked a silly joke, often during such moments of seriousness.

I picked up the paper weight at his desk, pocketed it, and he was surprised, asked me what I wanted that for. He mentioned he'd had it for years, and it was dull, worn out, and generic. I retorted just like me, isn't it. As I left, I turned around and said, "Well, I am just something like it, I try to hold things in place when it's stormy," and he agreed, quite violently nodding. Ah, the pity one gathers from such occasions, and I will never be able to deliver such to any, nor do I like to. I'd rather crack a joke or a bone punching at someone.

As always, he was here now for a drink early today by an entire hour. I wonder if he plans to miss me before I am gone. I ask, joking about it too.

He sighs and raises his glass, and ours tinkle. He looks at me straight into my eyes.

He worries, he says, for I would certainly go to hell, and there I could make things worse, or maybe better.

He asks me to hold a seat for him there, but like for a few hundred years. I ask him if the whiskey has had its effect.

"Already!" exclaims the doctor. He laments about how he was silly this morning, for if it's a year then we should live a life multiplied, maybe see the narwhals and the Arctic's miserable cold.

I suddenly grow somber, and my voice goes grave momentarily. He asks if it's the cigarette smoke, I inhaled; he hoped it was though. I was playing him again, and he throws a peanut across, while I prop the paper weight I had carried across, I set it before him. I asked him to name it by name. He said he would; first thing when I am in flames, not a moment earlier, for the paper weight is prettier and silent. But those are not what an oncologist yearns for; he wants to hear souls chirping and yap. This doctor who is my friend would probably ask the reaper if he could have me back.

We leave for home, he drops me to my door.

My dogs sit there by my window sill, a husky and a Labrador. Taxidermy would have been the finest; I miss both, though these are just plush dolls.

He says aloud, "I am getting your photograph in this house, and I will call it a museum of an annoying yet wanted friend. The rest of us shall camp out here too."

We will drink, watch your picture and crack the worst of jokes, maybe even throw stubbed cigarette butts into the balcony, then promise ourselves that it is not funny, and that we should stop.

But until I pass, he has to hold these plans. I got a year left; I am going to live it a hundred-fold. That is about me, so reader, what about you?

An analysis by Claude AI

Title Analysis: "Paper Weights and Other Mortal Things"

• Creates an immediate irony (paper weights typically outlast their owners)
• Links directly to the central metaphor of the poem
• Suggests the weight of mortality while maintaining a light touch
• Implies a catalog of life's ephemeral moments
• Balances the serious with the mundane, much like the poem itself

Structural Analysis:

1. Form

• Prose-poem format that allows for natural narrative flow
• Conversational tone that shifts between present action and future possibilities
• Circular structure: begins with diagnosis, ends with a challenge to the reader

2. Literary Devices:

• Central metaphor: The paper weight as both object and symbol
• Situational irony: The doctor becoming the intimate friend
• Dark humor throughout ("this gravely disease called life")
• Direct address to reader in closing
• Symbolism in the stuffed dogs representing past losses

Thematic Elements:

1. Mortality and Defiance

• Facing death with humor
• Refusing to be defined by illness
• Converting pity into laughter

2. Friendship's Depth

• The doctor transcending professional boundaries
• Shared gallows humor
• Plans for remembrance

3. Objects and Memory

• Paper weight as keeper of stories
• Plush dogs as stand-ins for lost pets
• Future photograph as museum piece

Emotional Progression:

1. Opening: Clinical reality
2. Middle: Transformation of doctor-patient to friendship
3. End: Defiant celebration of remaining time

Particularly Powerful Moments:

• "I try to hold things in place when it's stormy"
• "he wants to hear souls chirping and yap"
• "museum of an annoying yet wanted friend"

The ending's direct challenge to the reader ("That is about me, so reader, what about you?") transforms the personal narrative into a universal questioning of how we choose to live.

Critical Strengths:

1. Authenticity of voice
2. Balance of humor and gravity
3. Rich character development
4. Powerful use of everyday objects as metaphors
5. Natural dialogue that reveals deeper truths

The poem succeeds in making death feel both immense and intimate, while never losing its fundamentally human perspective. The title perfectly encapsulates this balance, making the mundane (paper weight) stand for something profound (mortality) while maintaining the light touch that characterizes the whole piece.

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Things to do for later: fix the following:

1. Pacing

• Some transitions between scenes could be smoother
• Temporal shifts might benefit from clearer markers

2. Character Development

• The doctor's character could be further developed through specific details
• Background context might enrich the relationship dynamic

3. Thematic Resolution

• The final question, while powerful, might benefit from more setup throughout