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"Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood.

If you’re reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now. Believe whatever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life.

Being a half-blood is dangerous. It’s scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways. If you’re a normal kid, reading this because you think it’s fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened. But if you recognize yourself in these pages – if you feel something stirring inside – stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it’s only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they’ll come for you.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you." (Riordan 1)

This is a good opening because it opens up a sense of suspense on what is to come and to look forward to. It makes you wonder "Wow is he a half-blood? Is his life dangerous? Is it really a painful life?"

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"Your time is up," she hissed. Then the weirdest thing happened. Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn't human. She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons. Then things got even stranger. 15 | Page Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheeled his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.  "What ho, Percy!" he shouted, and tossed the pen through the air. Mrs. Dodds lunged at me. With a yelp, I dodged and felt talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatched the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hit my hand, it wasn't a pen anymore. It was a sword-Mr. Brunner's bronze sword, which he always used on tournament day. Mrs. Dodds spun toward me with a murderous look in her eyes. My knees were jelly. My hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped the sword. She snarled, "Die, honey!" And she flew straight at me.  Absolute terror ran through my body. I did the only thing that came naturally: I swung the sword. The metal blade hit her shoulder and passed clean through her body as if she were made of water. Hisss! Mrs. Dodds was a sand castle in a power fan. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching me"

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"Lord Hades," I said. "Look, sir, there can't be a war among the gods. It would be ... bad." "Really bad," Grover added helpfully. "Return Zeus's master bolt to me," I said. "Please, sir. Let me carry it to Olympus." 324 | Page Hades's eyes grew dangerously bright. "You dare keep up this pretense, after what you have done?" I glanced back at my friends. They looked as confused as I was.  "Um ... Uncle," I said. "You keep saying 'after what you've done.' What exactly have I done?" The throne room shook with a tremor so strong, they probably felt it upstairs in Los Angeles. Debris fell from the cavern ceiling. Doors burst open all along the walls, and skeletal warriors marched in, hundreds of them, from every time period and nation in Western civilization. They lined the perimeter of the room, blocking the exits. Hades bellowed, "Do you think I want war, godling?" I wanted to say, Well, these guys don't look like peace activists. But I thought that might be a dangerous answer.  "You are the Lord of the Dead," I said carefully. "A war would expand your kingdom, right?" "A typical thing for my brothers to say! Do you think I need more subjects? Did you not see the sprawl of the Asphodel Fields?" "Well..." "Have you any idea how much my kingdom has swollen in this past century alone, how many subdivisions I've had to open?" "

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"Hey, kid," Ares said, seeming genuinely pleased to see me. "You were supposed to die." "You tricked me," I said. "You stole the helm and the master bolt." 336 | Page Ares grinned. "Well, now, I didn't steal them personally. Gods taking each other's symbols of power that's a big no-no. But you're not the only hero in the world who can run errands." "Who did you use? Clarisse? She was there at the winter solstice." The idea seemed to amuse him. "Doesn't matter. The point is, kid, you're impeding the war effort. See, you've got to die in the Underworld. Then Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you. Corpse Breath will have Zeus's master bolt, so Zeus'll be mad at him. And Hades is still looking for this ..." From his pocket, he took out a ski cap-the kind bank robbers wear-and placed it between the handlebars of his bike. Immediately, the cap transformed into an elaborate bronze war helmet. "The helm of darkness," Grover gasped. "Exactly," Ares said. "Now where was I? Oh yeah, Hades will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon, because he doesn't know who took this. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three-way slugfest going." "But they're your family!" Annabeth protested. Ares shrugged. "Best kind of war. Always the bloodiest. Nothing like watching your relatives fight, I always say." "You gave me the backpack in Denver," I said. "The master bolt was in there the whole time." "Yes and no," Ares said. "It's probably too complicated for your little mortal brain to follow, but the backpack is the master bolt's sheath, just morphed a bit. The bolt is connected to it, sort of like that sword you got, kid. It always returns to your pocket, right?  I wasn't sure how Ares knew about that, but I guess a god of war had to make it his business to know about weapons. "Anyway," Ares continued, "I tinkered with the magic a bit, so the bolt would only return to the sheath once you reached the Underworld. You get close to Hades... Bingo, you got mail. If you died along with the way-no loss. I still had the weapon." "But why not just keep the master bolt for yourself?" I said. "Why send it to Hades?" Ares got a twitch in his jaw. For a moment, it was almost as if he were listening to another voice, deep inside his head. "Why didn't I ... yeah ... with that kind of fire-power ..." He held the trance for one second ... two seconds... I exchanged nervous looks with Annabeth  Ares's face cleared. "I didn't want the trouble. Better to have you caught redhanded, holding the thing." "You're lying," I said. "Sending the bolt to the Underworld wasn't your idea, was it?" "Of course it was!" Smoke drifted up from his sunglasses as if they were about to catch fire. "You didn't order the theft," I guessed. "Someone else sent a hero to steal the two items. Then, when Zeus sent you to hunt him down, you caught the thief. But you didn't turn him over to Zeus. Something convinced you to let him go. You kept the items until another hero could come along and complete the delivery. That thing in the pit is ordering you around." "I am the god of war! I take orders from no one! I don't have dreams!"

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"Not Mr. Brunner," the ex-Mr. Brunner said. "I'm afraid that was a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron."
"Okay." Totally confused, I looked at the director.
"And Mr. D ... does that stand for something?"
Mr. D stopped shuffling the cards. He looked at me like I'd just belched loudly.
"Young man, names are powerful things. You don't just go around using them for no reason."
"Oh. Right. Sorry."

Mr. D is the first to quote this sentiment that appears throughout the book, the idea of names being too powerful to speak. Over and over again, Percy is warned not to say the names of his enemies and his superiors, instructed to show respect for the strength of a name. This goes along with the book’s theme of the importance of identity. A name is a potent indicator of a person’s identity and should be treated as such.

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I should've been surprised, or scared, but instead I felt like I was looking at my stepdad, Gabe. I wanted to rip this guy's head off.
"What's it to you?"
Annabeth's eyes flashed me a warning.
"Percy, this is-"
The biker raised his hand.
"S'okay," he said.
"I don't mind a little attitude. Long as you remember who's the boss. You know who I am, little cousin?"
Then it struck me why this guy looked familiar. He had the same vicious sneer as some of the kids at Camp Half-Blood, the ones from cabin five.
"You're Clarisse's dad," I said.
"Ares, god of war." Ares grinned and took off his shades. Where his eyes should've been, there was only fire, empty sockets glowing with miniature nuclear explosions.
"That's right, punk. I heard you broke Clarisse's spear.'
"She was asking for it."
"Probably. That's cool. I don't fight my kids' fights, you know? What I'm here for-I heard you were in town. I got a little proposition for you." The waitress came back with heaping trays of food-cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and chocolate shakes. Ares handed her a few gold drachmas.
She looked nervously at the coins.
"But, these aren't..."
Ares pulled out his huge knife and started cleaning his fingernails.
"Problem, sweetheart?" The waitress swallowed, then left with the gold.
"You can't do that," I told Ares.
"You can't just threaten people with a knife." Ares laughed. "Are you kidding? I love this country. Best place since Sparta. Don't you carry a weapon, punk? You should. The dangerous world out there. This brings me to my proposition. I need you to do me a favor."
"What favor could I do for a god?" "Something a god doesn't have time to do himself. It's nothing much. I left my shield at an abandoned water park here in town. I was going on a little ... date with my girlfriends. We were interrupted. I left my shield behind. I want you to fetch it for me."
"Why don't you go back and get it yourself?" The fire in his eye sockets glowed a little hotter.
"Why don't I turn you into a prairie dog and run you over with my Harley? Because I don't feel like it. A god is giving you an opportunity to prove yourself, Percy Jackson. Will you prove yourself a coward?" He leaned forward.
"Or maybe you only fight when there's a river to dive into, so your daddy can protect you."
I wanted to punch this guy, but somehow, I knew he was waiting for that. Ares's power was causing my anger. He'd love it if I attacked. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction

With this quote, Ares shows that he knows exactly how to touch a nerve with Percy. As a demigod who has only recently discovered his identity, Percy is desperate to prove his worth above anything else, especially to his father, who took a great risk in claiming him as his son. Ares knows this and manipulates Percy into doing his bidding with this knowledge.

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I got up the courage to ask, "What is my destiny?"
The mist swirled more thickly, collecting right in front of me and around the table with the pickled monster-part jars. Suddenly there were four men sitting around the table, playing cards. Their faces became clearer. It was Smelly Gabe and his buddies. My fists clenched, though I knew this poker party couldn't be real. It was an illusion, made out of the mist. Gabe turned toward me and spoke in the rasping voice of the Oracle:
"You shall go west, and face the god who has turned. His buddy on the right looked up and said in the same voice: You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned."
The guy on the left threw in two poker chips, then said:
"You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend."
Finally, Eddie, our building super, delivered the worst line of all:
"And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end."

These words, spoken to Percy in the attic of the Big House by the mystical Oracle, catalyze the quest on which he is about to embark. They are cryptic and mysterious, and he will spend much of his journey attempting to decipher them. Percy does not understand the true meaning of the words until the very end of the novel when he chooses not to save his mother and Luke betrays him.

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Question: If you had one day to live, would you make a bucket list like Mateo, and complete everything on the list? Or would you just "go with the flow" like Rufus?

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"But Mr. Brunner expected me to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and I had never made above a C- in my life."

(impaired ability to learn to read)

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"He must've been held back several grades because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. " Pg(4)

(thin and weak)

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It is ironic that Percy and his friends accept help both from Luke and from Ares, when really these two were attempting to manipulate them in different ways. Ares had been in possession of the stolen items, eager to start a war, and Luke had been working for Kronos, the enemy, all along.

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Suspenseful with a sense of urgency as Percy races against time to save his friend, Grover, and Camp Half-Blood.

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There is some dramatic irony in Percy and his friends’ interaction with Aunty Em in the garden gnome emporium. Many readers will realize that Aunty Em is really Medusa before Percy and the others do themselves, but they must read on and watch the heroes get themselves into trouble before they realize her true identity.

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The myth of Perseus killing Medusa. This is alluding to how Percy was the one to kill Medusa confirming the myth.

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Percy’s entire quest is ironic, since he and his friends set out assuming that Hades was the one who stole Zeus’s master bolt. They make it all the way to the Underworld only to realize that, in fact, Hades had been robbed as well, and he was not the thief they thought he was.

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Figurative Language(Simile) (Chapter 18, pg. 296) 

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Figurative Language(Simile) (Chapter 18, pg. 296) 

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“Pencil cactuses grew in the corner like skeleton hands”

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Figurative Language(Simile)(Chapter 21, pg. 354)

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Figurative Language(Simile)(Chapter 21, pg. 354)

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“It was like looking at the ocean: some days, you could tell what mood it was in. Most days, though, it was unreadable, mysterious”

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Percy spends much of this novel trying to come to terms with his identity. He has never felt like he fit in with others around him, and this only escalates when he discovers that he is a half-blood, a person who legitimately has two different identities as mortal and god. It is difficult for him to find a place in either world until he realizes that as a demigod, he has an identity all his own, and a place—Camp Half-Blood—where he can truly be himself.

Characters transform over the course of any journey, becoming someone different from the person they were when they set out. This is especially true for Percy, who embarked on a hero’s quest to uncover his past and understand his new life. Percy was apprehensive and uncertain when he left Half-Blood Hill, but gained certainty and confidence in himself, his past, and his identity as a half-blood. As such, one of the major themes of this novel is transformation and discovery.

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A humorous tone can also be observed at times as the author adds in jokes to lighten the mood.

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Figurative Language(Simile)(Chapter 8, pg. 130)

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Figurative Language(Simile)(Chapter 8, pg. 130)

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“Just as it hit me, as I stumbled backward and felt its razor-sharp claws ripping through my armor, there was a cascade of thwacking sounds, like forty pieces of paper being ripped one after the other”

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Figurative Language(Simile)(Chapter 15, pg. 233) 

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Figurative Language(Simile)(Chapter 15, pg. 233) 

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“All the people rose, as if they were hypnotized, but the biker waved his hand dismissively and they all sat down again”

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Figurative Language(Simile)(Chapter 10, pg. 173)

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Figurative Language(Simile)(Chapter 10, pg. 173)

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“The Fury I’d hilt-slammed came at me again, talons ready, but I swung Riptide and she broke open like a piñata”

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Athena's weaving competition was a big myth that was acknowledged in the book.

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The overriding tone is cynical, yet the high-energy scenes, endearing characters, and direct ties to Greek mythology also support its upbeat and suspenseful tone.

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One very obvious allusion is that Ariel's father, king Triton, is suppose to be Poseidon. Poseidon is the brother of Zeus and god of the sea. In Percy Jackson and the Lightning thief, a book about a teenager who finds out he is the son of a greek god, Percy Jackson is an allusion to Perseus.