"The Story of an Hour"

Imagine being told your husband is dead. As the horrific news strikes your mind, tears flood your face. The world seems to be chaos for a long period of time. Once the tears stop flowing out your eyes, you realize everything will be okay. This is the way the main character feels in “The Story of an Hour”. Throughout the story symbolism and plots are key to figuring out what mode of literature it really is.

To begin this story with death you really start to get a sense that, “ The Story of an Hour” is a tragedy. Also a tragedy begins with a conflict, which in this case is the death of Mr. Mallard. When the wife of Mr. Mallard, Mrs. Mallard, receives the news she immediately starts to cry in shock. Now the next plot in the story is a little bit strange, but still follows along with the plot line of a tragedy. Mrs. Mallard starts walking up the stairs, which relates to the next plot of a tragedy. She experiences a rise to power and by walking up the stairs she realizes new opportunities. All the years she had been married, she just sat around doing nothing. Now that she is “free”, Mrs. Mallard will be able to do what she wants and not be told what to do by her husband. Hopefully things will work out as planned, even though her husband is dead.

In addition to the previous two plots, the next few scenes show how much of a tragedy this odd story is. Since Mrs. Mallard is realizing new opportunities she becomes too hopeful of the new experiences she will have, due to her husband’s death. As she imagines more freedom than ever before, a tragic flaw strikes within the story. While Mrs. Mallard sits in her room just thinking, she realizes that she never really had to get married. Although during the time period this story was written, women were looked down if they were not married. Years and years of being stuck in a boring marriage, she was wasting her life away. The next part in a tragedy goes to a tragic fall for the main character. Mrs. Mallard suddenly walks down the stairs and sees her husband standing there. How can she even grasp the thought her husband was alive all along, and now she will be stuck once again.

For once Mrs. Mallard would be free to do as she wanted. When she views Mr. Mallard standing there, she can’t handle the shock. The final plot in a tragedy is death or symbolism of death. Mrs. Mallard actually dies right on the spot! Many would question the author as to why he made Mrs. Mallard die, but it could have only been to follow the tragedy plot lines. Now that Mrs. Mallard is dead and Mr. Mallard is alive the story seems a little confusing.

Equally important to the plot line of this tragic story is the symbolism. With using symbolism in the story it makes sense as to why the symbols are used. At the beginning of “ The Story of an Hour” Mrs. Mallard walks up stairs. Going up stairs is usually a good thing, and it is because she realizes new opportunities. Also later she walks down the stairs, meaning that something bad will most likely happen. As she went down the stairs, Mrs. Mallard sees her husband standing there. Who knew that the stairs were such great symbols? The last symbol is what makes most people confused. The last name of the main character is Mallard, and a Mallard is a duck that mates for life with its partner. From doing research about the bird, you see that maybe Mrs. Mallard was meant to be with her husband for life, even though she didn’t enjoy it. From all the symbols you get a better understanding of why the author had the symbols in the tragedy.

All in all “The Story of an Hour” is really a tragedy. From the perfect match up to the plot lines and the symbols all the evidence is there to find that it is a tragedy. From this story you learn that the author doesn't want you to live your life the way others want it to be. So live life to the fullest, despite what society thinks.

Creative essay number two

Creative Essay
1.18.2010


The one memory I don’t like from my child hood is the one of getting a concussion. To make matters worse it happened on Friday the thirteenth. I had never believed in this strange day, but ever since my concussion on that night it made me see that sometimes weird things really do happen on Friday the thirteenth.

I remember being in the car with Abbey going to our friend, Alex’s birthday party at the Pettit National Ice Center. For some reason I felt weird and a little sick to my stomach. After we arrived Abbey and I went downstairs to where everyone was. Later we got our skates and headed for the ice. My best friend Becky was there skating circles around everyone because she was on a Ice Skating team. Most watched in awe seeing how she could turn circles and skate backwards. I knew I could never do any of this stuff, but I could do one turn on my rollerblades. I figured, “ If I could do the turn on the cement, why couldn’t I do it on ice?” This turned out to be not the best idea, resulting in me falling on my face. Yes this does sound quite humorous but really it wasn’t.
Being in fifth grade I was very scared after I feel and started crying for help. I’m not sure why I started yelling for someone to help me up, but I mainly believe I was just freaked out to stand. Next I remember being taken downstairs with Abbey and Becky by my sides. Alex’s mom asked the concession man for any kind of ice, and put the ice bag in a hat to keep on my head. I continued crying waiting for my mom to come get me. As she ran down the stairs to where I was she asked a ton of questions to the special nurse who helped me. My mom asked weather to take me to the hospital or just go home, the nurse said take me to the hospital.
I always hated going to the hospital, and now I had to go because I needed it, not because we were going for someone else. As we drove in the car I remember the street lights flashing behind me and laying down in my dad’s car. Finally we arrived at the hospital. I was still in tears unsure of what was going to happen to me. Nurses did tests on me to make sure nothing was going wrong in my brain. Luckily nothing was, and next I had to wait in a room to be taken in for a CAT scan.
Another nurse walked in with a wheel chair and helped me into it. I asked, “ Why do I need this I can still walk?” She said, “ Hun we just don’t want you to run into anything just to be safe.” As I rolled into this very technical room I was laid down on the curved table. The doctors turned it on and it started moving back and forth and up and down taking pictures of my brain. Next the doctors called me and my mom in to see the pictures. I had never seen anything like these pictures. They were red and blue and yellow and green, and I saw what the inside of my head looked like. It was such a weird thing being showed what was wrong with me, but I was okay. It was quite the scare but everything was going to be fine. We arrived home at about midnight and I feel asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. After all I had been through a lot in one night, but now it was over and I was ok.