What is the significance of Mrs. Mallard’s heart condition in “The Story of an Hour”?

  

A paper of a story, 500 words, and it should get one page of introducing this story.
CHAPIEREN
Readin
162
mon
14
maybe
to strike buck at the hell out of them. I imagine them angering me in se
an insulmush or shove so that I could hurt
way I could them to be somewhere perhaps outside the classroom
street in a bar where they came suddenly upon me and saw me tighting pummer
somehoch. Anger is like cork in water. Push it down push it down, and still itke
I wanted
Other times
My Writing
sunce.
coming to the
FOR WRITING OR DISCUSSION
beyond the contine of definition?
1. How does the writer’s illegitimacy explain any crossing of borders, anything
2. What stereotypes did Sarris have to endure as he was growing up? How does he
3. What steps does the writer take to uncover his personal family history? How do
+ Assume that Sarris could have one meeting with his father or mother. Write a
narrative about that meeting Or, as an alternate assignment, write a narrative
use narrative to make his point?
you explain his efforts?
about the first meeting between a child and a long-lost parent.
KATE CHOPIN
The Story of an Hour
Knowing that Mrs. Mallard was aflicted 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 as
sure himself of its truth by a second telegram, and had hastened to forestall any less care
ful
, 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.
in her sister’s arms. When the storm of grief had spent itself she went away to her room
e wept at once, with sudden, wild abandonment,
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.
163
Readings for Writing
6
7
8
9
10
11
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 her 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 ta 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 would
belong to her absolutely. And she opened and spread her arms out to them in welcome.
There would be no one to live for her 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 have 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 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 keyhole, imploring for
admission. “Louise, open the door! I beg open the door you will make yourself ill. What
“Go away. I am not making myself ill.” No; she was drinking in a very elixir of life
12
13
to
14
ed
ho
ed.
as.
15
re-
16
zed
ent
om
17
she
ach
1
through that open window.
CHAPTER 8 Narration
164
Red
19
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 live
20
21
might be long. It was
only yesterday she bad thought with a shudder that life might be lone
She arose at length and opened the door to her sister’s importunities. There was,
feverish triumph in her eyes, and she carried herself unwittingly like a goddess of Victor
She clasped her sister’s waist
, and together they descended the stairs. Richards stood wait
ing for them at the bottom.
Some one was opening the front door with a latchkey. It was Brently Mallard who en
tered, a little travel-stained, composedly carrying his grip-sack and umbrella. He had been far
from the scene of 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 joy that kills.
22
But Richards was too late.
23
FOR WRITING OR DISCUSSION
MyWritingLab
1. What is Chopin’s main point here? What does the title contribute to the story?
2. How do you account for Mrs. Mallard’s feelings toward her husband? Chopin’s
story was written in 1892. What might the period suggest in terms of attitudes of
married men and women toward each other?
3. How do the paragraphs that come before paragraph 11 prepare you for the joy
ful “free, free, free!” uttered by Mrs. Mallard? For example, what do paragraphs
3-6 contribute to the story?
4. What do the doctors think killed Mrs. Mallard? What really killed her? What is
the irony, then, in the last line of the story?
5. What narrative strategies do you identify here? How does the sequence of
events play a particularly important role in the story?
6. How would the story tum out, do you think, if it were M. Mallard who incor-
rectly learned of the death of his wife? How, given the basic premise of “The
Story of an Hour,” do you think he would react? How might he react upon see-
ing his wife alive?
7. Write an essay in which you analyze and explain Mrs. Mallard’s feelings toward
her husband.
Note how the nineteenth-century author of The Red Badge of Cou
narrative structure to make a profound point. Answer
a simple
follow the
poem.
est
CHAPIEREN
Readin
162
mon
14
maybe
to strike buck at the hell out of them. I imagine them angering me in se
an insulmush or shove so that I could hurt
way I could them to be somewhere perhaps outside the classroom
street in a bar where they came suddenly upon me and saw me tighting pummer
somehoch. Anger is like cork in water. Push it down push it down, and still itke
I wanted
Other times
My Writing
sunce.
coming to the
FOR WRITING OR DISCUSSION
beyond the contine of definition?
1. How does the writer’s illegitimacy explain any crossing of borders, anything
2. What stereotypes did Sarris have to endure as he was growing up? How does he
3. What steps does the writer take to uncover his personal family history? How do
+ Assume that Sarris could have one meeting with his father or mother. Write a
narrative about that meeting Or, as an alternate assignment, write a narrative
use narrative to make his point?
you explain his efforts?
about the first meeting between a child and a long-lost parent.
KATE CHOPIN
The Story of an Hour
Knowing that Mrs. Mallard was aflicted 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 as
sure himself of its truth by a second telegram, and had hastened to forestall any less care
ful
, 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.
in her sister’s arms. When the storm of grief had spent itself she went away to her room
e wept at once, with sudden, wild abandonment,
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.
163
Readings for Writing
6
7
8
9
10
11
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 her 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 ta 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 would
belong to her absolutely. And she opened and spread her arms out to them in welcome.
There would be no one to live for her 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 have 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 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 keyhole, imploring for
admission. “Louise, open the door! I beg open the door you will make yourself ill. What
“Go away. I am not making myself ill.” No; she was drinking in a very elixir of life
12
13
to
14
ed
ho
ed.
as.
15
re-
16
zed
ent
om
17
she
ach
1
through that open window.
CHAPTER 8 Narration
164
Red
19
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 live
20
21
might be long. It was
only yesterday she bad thought with a shudder that life might be lone
She arose at length and opened the door to her sister’s importunities. There was,
feverish triumph in her eyes, and she carried herself unwittingly like a goddess of Victor
She clasped her sister’s waist
, and together they descended the stairs. Richards stood wait
ing for them at the bottom.
Some one was opening the front door with a latchkey. It was Brently Mallard who en
tered, a little travel-stained, composedly carrying his grip-sack and umbrella. He had been far
from the scene of 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 joy that kills.
22
But Richards was too late.
23
FOR WRITING OR DISCUSSION
MyWritingLab
1. What is Chopin’s main point here? What does the title contribute to the story?
2. How do you account for Mrs. Mallard’s feelings toward her husband? Chopin’s
story was written in 1892. What might the period suggest in terms of attitudes of
married men and women toward each other?
3. How do the paragraphs that come before paragraph 11 prepare you for the joy
ful “free, free, free!” uttered by Mrs. Mallard? For example, what do paragraphs
3-6 contribute to the story?
4. What do the doctors think killed Mrs. Mallard? What really killed her? What is
the irony, then, in the last line of the story?
5. What narrative strategies do you identify here? How does the sequence of
events play a particularly important role in the story?
6. How would the story tum out, do you think, if it were M. Mallard who incor-
rectly learned of the death of his wife? How, given the basic premise of “The
Story of an Hour,” do you think he would react? How might he react upon see-
ing his wife alive?
7. Write an essay in which you analyze and explain Mrs. Mallard’s feelings toward
her husband.
Note how the nineteenth-century author of The Red Badge of Cou
narrative structure to make a profound point. Answer
a simple
follow the
poem.
est

Introduction:

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In the world of literature, stories have a powerful way of conveying emotions that resonate with readers. This is evident in the story “The Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin, where the main character, Mrs. Mallard, experiences emotional turmoil after receiving news of her husband’s death. Through the vivid depiction of Mrs. Mallard’s thoughts and feelings, Chopin effectively explores themes of grief, freedom, and the constraints of marriage. This paper will critically analyze the text, delving into the nuances of Chopin’s storytelling style and themes.

Description:

“The Story of an Hour” begins with the announcement of Mr. Mallard’s death, followed by his wife, Mrs. Mallard’s reaction to the news. Chopin takes great care to depict the different stages of grief that Mrs. Mallard experiences, from sobbing uncontrollably in her sister’s arms to quiet introspection once she is alone in her room. Mrs. Mallard’s initial reaction to her husband’s death may seem predictable, but as the story unfolds, it becomes clear that she is experiencing a range of emotions, including a sense of freedom and relief.

Through a clever use of symbolism, Chopin hints at Mrs. Mallard’s inner turmoil. For instance, the open window in Mrs. Mallard’s bedroom represents the possibility of a new beginning and a way out of her unhappy marriage. The description of the scenery outside her window further emphasizes the contrast between Mrs. Mallard’s inner turmoil and the beauty of the natural world.

As the story progresses, Chopin explores the constraints of marriage, particularly as they apply to women in the late 19th century. Mrs. Mallard’s newfound freedom is cut short, however, when her husband shows up alive and well. The shock of seeing her supposedly dead husband proves too much for her fragile heart to bear, and she dies, leaving us to ponder the complexities of marriage, freedom, and the fragility of life.

Overall, “The Story of an Hour” is a thought-provoking piece of literature that delves into themes that are still relevant today. Through her masterful storytelling, Chopin provides insights into the human condition that are sure to resonate with readers of all ages.

Objectives:
– To analyze the themes and characters in Kate Chopin’s “The Story of an Hour”
– To understand the effects of grief on individuals
– To explore the psychological nuances of human emotion

Learning Outcomes:
By the end of this lesson, students will be able to:
– Identify the plot and key themes in “The Story of an Hour”
– Analyze the character development of Mrs. Mallard
– Discuss the impact of grief on individuals
– Evaluate the use of symbolism and imagery in the story
– Understand how psychological factors affect human emotion

Solution 1:

Title: Sarris’s Journey to Uncovering his Personal Family History

In this article, we will explore the steps that Sarris takes to uncover his personal family history. We will delve into how he uses narrative to make his point.

Firstly, Sarris’s illegitimacy compelled him to cross borders, both literal and figurative. He was driven to discover his true identity, and this desire led him to explore his family history.

Secondly, Sarris had to endure several stereotypes as he was growing up, including being seen as an outsider and a misfit. However, he used his unique experiences to explore his family history and find his identity.

Finally, Sarris took several steps to uncover his personal family history, including conducting interviews with family members and researching his ancestry. He used narrative to make his point, weaving his family’s history into compelling stories that engage the reader.

Solution 2:

Title: The Significance of Mrs. Mallard’s Armchair in Kate Chopin’s “The Story of an Hour”

In this article, we will explore the significance of Mrs. Mallard’s armchair in Kate Chopin’s “The Story of an Hour.”

The armchair represents a refuge for Mrs. Mallard, a retreat from the outside world that she can sink into and find comfort in. It is a symbol of her personal space, a place where she can feel safe and secluded from the rest of the world.

Furthermore, the armchair is significant because it is a physical manifestation of Mrs. Mallard’s physical and emotional exhaustion. She sinks into the chair, weighed down by her sorrow and the tragedy of her husband’s death.

Finally, the armchair is symbolic of Mrs. Mallard’s liberation. As she sits in the chair, she is able to embrace her newfound freedom and contemplate her future without the constraints of her marriage. The armchair becomes a representation of her independence and autonomy.

In conclusion, the armchair in “The Story of an Hour” holds significant meaning and is a vital element of the story. It represents Mrs. Mallard’s personal space, her exhaustion, and her liberation.

Suggested Resources/Books:

1. “The Story and Its Writer: An Introduction to Short Fiction” by Ann Charters
2. “Crafting the Personal Essay: A Guide for Writing and Publishing Creative Non-Fiction” by Dinty W. Moore
3. “The Art of Fiction: Notes on Craft for Young Writers” by John Gardener
4. “The Writing Life” by Annie Dillard
5. “The Elements of Style” by William Strunk Jr.

Similar asked questions:

1. How does Kate Chopin depict the emotions of grief and loss in “The Story of an Hour”?
2. In “The Story of an Hour,” what is the significance of the protagonist’s heart condition?
3. How does the setting of “The Story of an Hour” impact the mood and tone of the story?
4. In what ways does “The Story of an Hour” challenge traditional gender roles?
5. What literary devices does Kate Chopin use in “The Story of an Hour” to convey her message?

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