heartQUIVER
01-06-2006, 12:12 AM
Howdy, right. I am going to attempt to teach you all/enhance your learning on 'reading between the lines', semantics and layers of meaning. Please PLEASE do click 'Back' button a few times if your boring and don't care about your learning, not many of you do but meh. Also before you even attempt to read this ill say this is heavy stuff and goes incredibley deeply into things. Don't laugh at this, i hope people can learn from me. Some stuff here is top levels in GCSE's so its good if you read it. I think this should be stickied as it could help ALOT of people.
Stuff to get us started:
What are "semantics"?
Don't google it, you'll be swamped with useless replys. Its the study of symbols but is also used in storys as "semantic fields" which ill explain futher on later.
What are "layers of meaning"?
Another way of conveying or taking something out of context and looking deeply into it. Or as a better phrase "reading between the lines"
K, on with the show. This story i will show you covers some of the key elements im trying to tell you. Its a very confusing, difficult but well written story. Look back now if your not bothered to read. I'll explain EVERYTHING after the story and even write a user-friendly edition.
Un-edited version:
"The Story of An Hour"
Kate Chopin (1894)
Knowing that Mrs. Mallard was afflicted with a heart trouble, great care was taken to break to her as gently as possible the news of her husband's death.
It was her sister Josephine who told her, in broken sentences; veiled hints that revealed in half concealing. Her husband's friend Richards was there, too, near her. It was he who had been in the newspaper office when intelligence of the railroad disaster was received, with Brently Mallard's name leading the list of "killed." He had only taken the time to assure himself of its truth by a second telegram, and had hastened to forestall any less careful, less tender friend in bearing the sad message.
She did not hear the story as many women have heard the same, with a paralyzed inability to accept its significance. She wept at once, with sudden, wild abandonment, in her sister's arms. When the storm of grief had spent itself she went away to her room alone. She would have no one follow her.
There stood, facing the open window, a comfortable, roomy armchair. Into this she sank, pressed down by a physical exhaustion that haunted her body and seemed to reach into her soul.
She could see in the open square before her house the tops of trees that were all aquiver with the new spring life. The delicious breath of rain was in the air. In the street below a peddler was crying his wares. The notes of a distant song which some one was singing reached her faintly, and countless sparrows were twittering in the eaves.
There were patches of blue sky showing here and there through the clouds that had met and piled one above the other in the west facing her window.
She sat with her head thrown back upon the cushion of the chair, quite motionless, except when a sob came up into her throat and shook her, as a child who has cried itself to sleep continues to sob in its dreams.
She was young, with a fair, calm face, whose lines bespoke repression and even a certain strength. But now there was a dull stare in her eyes, whose gaze was fixed away off yonder on one of those patches of blue sky. It was not a glance of reflection, but rather indicated a suspension of intelligent thought.
There was something coming to her and she was waiting for it, fearfully. What was it? She did not know; it was too subtle and elusive to name. But she felt it, creeping out of the sky, reaching toward her through the sounds, the scents, the color that filled the air.
Now her bosom rose and fell tumultuously. She was beginning to recognize this thing that was approaching to possess her, and she was striving to beat it back with her will--as powerless as her two white slender hands would have been. When she abandoned herself a little whispered word escaped her slightly parted lips. She said it over and over under hte breath: "free, free, free!" The vacant stare and the look of terror that had followed it went from her eyes. They stayed keen and bright. Her pulses beat fast, and the coursing blood warmed and relaxed every inch of her body.
She did not stop to ask if it were or were not a monstrous joy that held her. A clear and exalted perception enabled her to dismiss the suggestion as trivial. She knew that she would weep again when she saw the kind, tender hands folded in death; the face that had never looked save with love upon her, fixed and gray and dead. But she saw beyond that bitter moment a long procession of years to come that owuld belong to her absolutely. And she opened and spread her arms out to them in welcome.
There would be no one to live for during those coming years; she would live for herself. There would be no powerful will bending hers in that blind persistence with which men and women believe they ahve a right to impose a private will upon a fellow-creature. A kind intention or a cruel intention made the act seem no less a crime as she looked upon it in that brief moment of illumination.
And yet she had loved him--sometimes. Often she had not. What did it matter! What could love, the unsolved mystery, count for in the face of this possession of self-assertion which she suddenly recognized as the strongest impulse of her being!
"Free! Body and soul free!" she kept whispering.
Josephine was kneeling before the closed door with her lips to the keyhold, imploring for admission. "Louise, open the door! I beg; open the door--you will make yourself ill. What are you doing, Louise? For heaven's sake open the door."
"Go away. I am not making myself ill." No; she was drinking in a very elixir of life through that open window.
Her fancy was running riot along those days ahead of her. Spring days, and summer days, and all sorts of days that would be her own. She breathed a quick prayer that life might be long. It was only yesterday she had thought with a shudder that life might be long.
She arose at length and opened the door to her sister's importunities. There was a feverish triumph in her eyes, and she carried herself unwittingly like a goddess of Victory. She clasped her sister's waist, and together they descended the stairs. Richards stood waiting for them at the bottom. Some one was opening the front door with a latchkey. It was Brently Mallard who entered, a little travel-stained, composedly carrying his grip-sack and umbrella. He had been far from the scene of the accident, and did not even know there had been one. He stood amazed at Josephine's piercing cry; at Richards' quick motion to screen him from the view of his wife. When the doctors came they said she had died of heart disease--of the joy that kills.
User friendly version:
So basically theirs a lady called Mrs Mallard, her sisters broke the news to her that her husbands been involved in and accident and died. She someone around the house, Richard who is Mrs mallards husband's friend. Shes devastated. Mrs Mallard goes up to her room, crys but aha, she is HAPPY. Mrs Mallard was depressed, uncomfortable you name it with her marrage with Mr Mallard. Mrs Mallard didnt hate him, she just didnt love Mr Mallard. He was so good to her and she couldnt really do anything. Now Mr Mallards dead shes been set free. Her sister comes up stairs and makes her come out the room where shes been crying. They head down the stairs where Richard (Mr Mallards friend) is stood at the bottom. Suddenly the a latchkey is put into the door. The door is opened and Mr Mallard walks in. Mrs Mallard (thinking he was dead) Is shocked, and straight back to watch she was before. Dieing inside, but this time literly. Mrs mallard drops to the floor, dead. The doctors said she died of a heart attack (shocked).
K, i know thats a veryvery hard story but your reading this to learn, right? Well i hope so.
Lets sort out the characters first!
Mrs Mallard - Main character, depressed wife of Mr Mallard.
Mr Mallard - Mrs Mallards husbands whoes lovely.
Josephine Mallard - Mrs Mallards sister who tells us that her sisters husbands been involved in an accident/killed.
Richard - Mr Mallards friend
Other questions that we'll get done with first:
Q: Why did Mrs Mallard die?
A: She had heart trouble (as it says at the begginging) and couldnt cope with the shock of the entry of her (so she thinks) dead husband at the door. She had a heart attack.
Q: Whys this bloke "Richard" and why is he their?
A: Now, this is one of the deepest theorys inside the story. Ill explain now.
ON WE GO
So, we pressume Mr Mallard is currently at work then Josephine tells her sister that hes been involved in an accident. Aha and suddenly the author tells us about "Richard" a friend of Mr Mallards. Ready for this? K then, lets take this text for example and ill explain:
It was her sister Josephine who told her, in broken sentences; veiled hints that revealed in half concealing. Her husband's friend Richards was there, too, near her.
Read it again with these few words bold-a-fied:
It was her sister Josephine who told her, in broken sentences; veiled hints that revealed in half concealing. Her husband's friend Richards was there, too, near her.
Now, the author could be leading to us that richard is there (take out commar) near her. As in Mrs Mallards having an affair. But why? Well shes not happy with her current husband and she got to know this friend of Mr Mallards by work, possibly? Its amazing how a commar can make a huge difference like that. To be quite honest Richards their for no reason really. hes not that to help Mrs Mallard get over this news about her husbands death beacuse hes their before she gets even told. So if you dont really think about the theory above hes their for absoulutly NO reason. See my point?
But thats not just the other theory that thinks Mrs Mallards having an affair, oh no, theirs a much HUGER and completely hidden value. Want to know what it is? Well all over the story there is evidence of possibly Mrs Mallard not just having an affair but also being pregnant. With whose baby? Most likely Richards (Mr Mallards friend) as they seem to be together and i don't think mrs Mallard hangs with Mr Mallard anymore really, get me?
I'll show you what i mean, i cant exactly take a passage with this so ill try my best.
Theirs random "semantic" fields in this story. A semantic field is a group of works in mostly every part of the story. Used as similies and you can get words for semantic fields in thesauruss. You just need a topic. Eg the word frightend. You could put instead of other words, scared, shocked, pressured, eerie and lots more. Anyway wheres the semantic field in this story? Heres some passages (its hard to explain, so read carefully) :
Before i go on your proberly thinking "WHy BAB\Iiez?!" The semantic field of words associated with babies conveys the theory that Mrs Mallards pregnant, anyway, on with it!
The semantic fields are in bold.
Knowing that Mrs. Mallard was afflicted with a heart trouble, great care was taken to break to her as gently as possible the news of her husband's death. It was her sister Josephine who told her, in broken sentences; veiled hints that revealed in half concealing. Her husband's friend Richards was there, too, near her.
Ok, i've highlighted only one passage as theirs about 10. Dig for them yourself, good exercise. Right, now (sometimes) babies are born with heart trouble, parents take good care of babies, babies talk in broken sentances (eg: googoo gaga, mumma) and babies are looked after gently. See how all those words in that text are associated with the semantic field of babies? Well theirs loads more in the story so it does provide us with a good theory that Mrs Mallard (we think is having an affair with Mr Mallards friend Richard) maybe pregnant.
I hope all the above, if you cared to read it as taught you something. If not wala. Your less knowlegeable over tis subject. You're all going to think of me as some crazy nerd now. No, i was given this task as homework, figured it out and wala. Got a well done from teacher a few weeks ago. Yes, i did write ALL of the above. Accept for the story of course. Your proberly thinking "WhYZ HE uaING Good GRAMMA, HE DUNT USUALLy!?" well yes. I dont, but for this i did need to.
ANYWAY.. after all of that your proberly thinking "wtH do We POSTZ?" well. I would like to hear your theorys/suggestions and any comments on mine. Please dont flame me or anything. I was just trying to help. I definately think i did, if you already knew about this good for you. Their may be people who didnt and this may help them in GCSE's, i dont know. Remember this is a very old story (check the date) so stuff back then could be hidden somewhere which we dont really think about today. If theirs any problems with anything ive said say please. Ill try and correct it.
Anyway yeh, laters.
PS - im not a nerd! Ask clar or someone.
Stuff to get us started:
What are "semantics"?
Don't google it, you'll be swamped with useless replys. Its the study of symbols but is also used in storys as "semantic fields" which ill explain futher on later.
What are "layers of meaning"?
Another way of conveying or taking something out of context and looking deeply into it. Or as a better phrase "reading between the lines"
K, on with the show. This story i will show you covers some of the key elements im trying to tell you. Its a very confusing, difficult but well written story. Look back now if your not bothered to read. I'll explain EVERYTHING after the story and even write a user-friendly edition.
Un-edited version:
"The Story of An Hour"
Kate Chopin (1894)
Knowing that Mrs. Mallard was afflicted with a heart trouble, great care was taken to break to her as gently as possible the news of her husband's death.
It was her sister Josephine who told her, in broken sentences; veiled hints that revealed in half concealing. Her husband's friend Richards was there, too, near her. It was he who had been in the newspaper office when intelligence of the railroad disaster was received, with Brently Mallard's name leading the list of "killed." He had only taken the time to assure himself of its truth by a second telegram, and had hastened to forestall any less careful, less tender friend in bearing the sad message.
She did not hear the story as many women have heard the same, with a paralyzed inability to accept its significance. She wept at once, with sudden, wild abandonment, in her sister's arms. When the storm of grief had spent itself she went away to her room alone. She would have no one follow her.
There stood, facing the open window, a comfortable, roomy armchair. Into this she sank, pressed down by a physical exhaustion that haunted her body and seemed to reach into her soul.
She could see in the open square before her house the tops of trees that were all aquiver with the new spring life. The delicious breath of rain was in the air. In the street below a peddler was crying his wares. The notes of a distant song which some one was singing reached her faintly, and countless sparrows were twittering in the eaves.
There were patches of blue sky showing here and there through the clouds that had met and piled one above the other in the west facing her window.
She sat with her head thrown back upon the cushion of the chair, quite motionless, except when a sob came up into her throat and shook her, as a child who has cried itself to sleep continues to sob in its dreams.
She was young, with a fair, calm face, whose lines bespoke repression and even a certain strength. But now there was a dull stare in her eyes, whose gaze was fixed away off yonder on one of those patches of blue sky. It was not a glance of reflection, but rather indicated a suspension of intelligent thought.
There was something coming to her and she was waiting for it, fearfully. What was it? She did not know; it was too subtle and elusive to name. But she felt it, creeping out of the sky, reaching toward her through the sounds, the scents, the color that filled the air.
Now her bosom rose and fell tumultuously. She was beginning to recognize this thing that was approaching to possess her, and she was striving to beat it back with her will--as powerless as her two white slender hands would have been. When she abandoned herself a little whispered word escaped her slightly parted lips. She said it over and over under hte breath: "free, free, free!" The vacant stare and the look of terror that had followed it went from her eyes. They stayed keen and bright. Her pulses beat fast, and the coursing blood warmed and relaxed every inch of her body.
She did not stop to ask if it were or were not a monstrous joy that held her. A clear and exalted perception enabled her to dismiss the suggestion as trivial. She knew that she would weep again when she saw the kind, tender hands folded in death; the face that had never looked save with love upon her, fixed and gray and dead. But she saw beyond that bitter moment a long procession of years to come that owuld belong to her absolutely. And she opened and spread her arms out to them in welcome.
There would be no one to live for during those coming years; she would live for herself. There would be no powerful will bending hers in that blind persistence with which men and women believe they ahve a right to impose a private will upon a fellow-creature. A kind intention or a cruel intention made the act seem no less a crime as she looked upon it in that brief moment of illumination.
And yet she had loved him--sometimes. Often she had not. What did it matter! What could love, the unsolved mystery, count for in the face of this possession of self-assertion which she suddenly recognized as the strongest impulse of her being!
"Free! Body and soul free!" she kept whispering.
Josephine was kneeling before the closed door with her lips to the keyhold, imploring for admission. "Louise, open the door! I beg; open the door--you will make yourself ill. What are you doing, Louise? For heaven's sake open the door."
"Go away. I am not making myself ill." No; she was drinking in a very elixir of life through that open window.
Her fancy was running riot along those days ahead of her. Spring days, and summer days, and all sorts of days that would be her own. She breathed a quick prayer that life might be long. It was only yesterday she had thought with a shudder that life might be long.
She arose at length and opened the door to her sister's importunities. There was a feverish triumph in her eyes, and she carried herself unwittingly like a goddess of Victory. She clasped her sister's waist, and together they descended the stairs. Richards stood waiting for them at the bottom. Some one was opening the front door with a latchkey. It was Brently Mallard who entered, a little travel-stained, composedly carrying his grip-sack and umbrella. He had been far from the scene of the accident, and did not even know there had been one. He stood amazed at Josephine's piercing cry; at Richards' quick motion to screen him from the view of his wife. When the doctors came they said she had died of heart disease--of the joy that kills.
User friendly version:
So basically theirs a lady called Mrs Mallard, her sisters broke the news to her that her husbands been involved in and accident and died. She someone around the house, Richard who is Mrs mallards husband's friend. Shes devastated. Mrs Mallard goes up to her room, crys but aha, she is HAPPY. Mrs Mallard was depressed, uncomfortable you name it with her marrage with Mr Mallard. Mrs Mallard didnt hate him, she just didnt love Mr Mallard. He was so good to her and she couldnt really do anything. Now Mr Mallards dead shes been set free. Her sister comes up stairs and makes her come out the room where shes been crying. They head down the stairs where Richard (Mr Mallards friend) is stood at the bottom. Suddenly the a latchkey is put into the door. The door is opened and Mr Mallard walks in. Mrs Mallard (thinking he was dead) Is shocked, and straight back to watch she was before. Dieing inside, but this time literly. Mrs mallard drops to the floor, dead. The doctors said she died of a heart attack (shocked).
K, i know thats a veryvery hard story but your reading this to learn, right? Well i hope so.
Lets sort out the characters first!
Mrs Mallard - Main character, depressed wife of Mr Mallard.
Mr Mallard - Mrs Mallards husbands whoes lovely.
Josephine Mallard - Mrs Mallards sister who tells us that her sisters husbands been involved in an accident/killed.
Richard - Mr Mallards friend
Other questions that we'll get done with first:
Q: Why did Mrs Mallard die?
A: She had heart trouble (as it says at the begginging) and couldnt cope with the shock of the entry of her (so she thinks) dead husband at the door. She had a heart attack.
Q: Whys this bloke "Richard" and why is he their?
A: Now, this is one of the deepest theorys inside the story. Ill explain now.
ON WE GO
So, we pressume Mr Mallard is currently at work then Josephine tells her sister that hes been involved in an accident. Aha and suddenly the author tells us about "Richard" a friend of Mr Mallards. Ready for this? K then, lets take this text for example and ill explain:
It was her sister Josephine who told her, in broken sentences; veiled hints that revealed in half concealing. Her husband's friend Richards was there, too, near her.
Read it again with these few words bold-a-fied:
It was her sister Josephine who told her, in broken sentences; veiled hints that revealed in half concealing. Her husband's friend Richards was there, too, near her.
Now, the author could be leading to us that richard is there (take out commar) near her. As in Mrs Mallards having an affair. But why? Well shes not happy with her current husband and she got to know this friend of Mr Mallards by work, possibly? Its amazing how a commar can make a huge difference like that. To be quite honest Richards their for no reason really. hes not that to help Mrs Mallard get over this news about her husbands death beacuse hes their before she gets even told. So if you dont really think about the theory above hes their for absoulutly NO reason. See my point?
But thats not just the other theory that thinks Mrs Mallards having an affair, oh no, theirs a much HUGER and completely hidden value. Want to know what it is? Well all over the story there is evidence of possibly Mrs Mallard not just having an affair but also being pregnant. With whose baby? Most likely Richards (Mr Mallards friend) as they seem to be together and i don't think mrs Mallard hangs with Mr Mallard anymore really, get me?
I'll show you what i mean, i cant exactly take a passage with this so ill try my best.
Theirs random "semantic" fields in this story. A semantic field is a group of works in mostly every part of the story. Used as similies and you can get words for semantic fields in thesauruss. You just need a topic. Eg the word frightend. You could put instead of other words, scared, shocked, pressured, eerie and lots more. Anyway wheres the semantic field in this story? Heres some passages (its hard to explain, so read carefully) :
Before i go on your proberly thinking "WHy BAB\Iiez?!" The semantic field of words associated with babies conveys the theory that Mrs Mallards pregnant, anyway, on with it!
The semantic fields are in bold.
Knowing that Mrs. Mallard was afflicted with a heart trouble, great care was taken to break to her as gently as possible the news of her husband's death. It was her sister Josephine who told her, in broken sentences; veiled hints that revealed in half concealing. Her husband's friend Richards was there, too, near her.
Ok, i've highlighted only one passage as theirs about 10. Dig for them yourself, good exercise. Right, now (sometimes) babies are born with heart trouble, parents take good care of babies, babies talk in broken sentances (eg: googoo gaga, mumma) and babies are looked after gently. See how all those words in that text are associated with the semantic field of babies? Well theirs loads more in the story so it does provide us with a good theory that Mrs Mallard (we think is having an affair with Mr Mallards friend Richard) maybe pregnant.
I hope all the above, if you cared to read it as taught you something. If not wala. Your less knowlegeable over tis subject. You're all going to think of me as some crazy nerd now. No, i was given this task as homework, figured it out and wala. Got a well done from teacher a few weeks ago. Yes, i did write ALL of the above. Accept for the story of course. Your proberly thinking "WhYZ HE uaING Good GRAMMA, HE DUNT USUALLy!?" well yes. I dont, but for this i did need to.
ANYWAY.. after all of that your proberly thinking "wtH do We POSTZ?" well. I would like to hear your theorys/suggestions and any comments on mine. Please dont flame me or anything. I was just trying to help. I definately think i did, if you already knew about this good for you. Their may be people who didnt and this may help them in GCSE's, i dont know. Remember this is a very old story (check the date) so stuff back then could be hidden somewhere which we dont really think about today. If theirs any problems with anything ive said say please. Ill try and correct it.
Anyway yeh, laters.
PS - im not a nerd! Ask clar or someone.