The Story of an Hour"

"The Story of an Hour" by American author Kate Chopin is a mainstay of feminist literary study. Originally
published in in 1894, the story documents the complicated reaction of Louise Mallard upon learning of
her husband's death.

It is difficult to discuss "The Story of an Hour" without addressing the ironic ending. If you haven't read
the story yet, you might as well, as it's only about 1,000 words.

THE STORY OF AN HOUR: PLOT SUMMARY

At the beginning of the story, Richards and Josephine believe they must break the news of Brently
Mallard's death to Louise Mallard as gently as possible. Josephine informs her "in broken sentences; veiled
hints that revealed in half concealing." Their assumption, not an unreasonable one, is that this unthinkable
news will be devastating to Louise and will threaten her weak heart.

But something even more unthinkable lurks in this story -- Louise's growing awareness of the freedom she
will have without Brently.

At first, she doesn't consciously allow herself to think about this freedom. The knowledge reaches her
wordlessly and symbolically, via the "open window" through which she sees the "open square" in front of
her house. The repetition of the word "open" emphasizes possibility and a lack of restrictions.

The scene is full of energy and hope. The trees are "all aquiver with the new spring of life," the "delicious
breath of rain" is in the air, sparrows are twittering, and Louise can hear someone singing a song in the
distance. She can see "patches of blue sky" amid the clouds.

She observes these patches of blue sky without registering what they might mean.

Describing Louise's gaze, Chopin writes, "It was not a glance of reflection, but rather indicated a
suspension of intelligent thought." If she had been thinking intelligently, social norms might have
prevented her from such a heretical recognition. Instead, the world offers her "veiled hints" that she
slowly pieces together without even realizing she is doing so.

In fact, Louise resists the impending awareness, regarding it "fearfully." As she begins to realize what it is,
she strives "to beat it back with her will." Yet its force is too powerful to oppose.

WHY IS LOUISE SO HAPPY?

This story can be uncomfortable to read because, on the surface, Louise seems to be glad that her husband
has died. But that it's quite accurate. She thinks of Brently's "kind, tender hands" and "the face that had
never looked save with love upon her," and she recognizes that she has not finished weeping for him.

But his death has made her see something she hasn't seen before and might likely never have seen if he
had lived: her desire for self-determination.

Once she allows herself to recognize her approaching freedom, she utters the word "free" over and over
again, relishing it. Her fear and her uncomprehending stare are replaced by acceptance and excitement.
She looks forward to "years to come that would belong to her absolutely."

In one of the most important passages of the story, Chopin describes Louise's vision of self-determination.
It's not so much about getting rid of her husband as it is about being entirely in charge of her own life,
"body and soul." Chopin writes:

"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 will upon a fellow-creature."

Note the phrase men and women. Louise never catalogs any specific offenses Brently has committed
against her; rather, the implication seems to be that marriage can be stifling for both parties.

JOY THAT KILLS

When Brently Mallard enters the house alive and well in the final scene, his appearance is utterly ordinary.

He is "a little travel-stained, composedly carrying his grip-sack and umbrella." His mundane appearance
contrasts greatly with Louise's "feverish triumph" and her walking down the stairs like a "goddess of
Victory."

When the doctors determine that Louise "died of heart disease -- of joy that kills," the reader immediately
recognizes the irony. It seems clear that her shock was not joy over her husband's survival, but rather
distress over losing her cherished, newfound freedom. Louise did briefly experience joy -- the joy of
imagining herself in control of her own life. And it was the removal of that intense joy that led to her
death.

Mending Wall

The Poem

Mending Wall is a dramatic narrative poem cast in forty-five lines of blank verse. Its title is revealingly
ambiguous, in that mending can be taken either as a verb or an adjective. Considered with mending
as a verb, the title refers to the activity that the poems speaker and his neighbor perform in repairing the
wall between their two farms. With mending considered as an adjective, the title suggests that the wall
serves a more subtle function: as a mending wall, it keeps the relationship between the two neighbors
in good condition.

In a number of ways, the first-person speaker of the poem seems to resemble the author, Robert Frost.
Both the speaker and Frost own New England farms, and both show a penchant for humor, mischief, and
philosophical speculation about nature, relationships, and language. Nevertheless, as analysis of the poem
will show, Frost maintains an ironic distance between himself and the speaker, for the poem conveys a
wider understanding of the issues involved than the speaker seems to comprehend.

As is the case with most of his poems, Frost writes Mending Wall in the idiom of New England speech:
a laconic, sometimes clipped vernacular that can seem awkward and slightly puzzling until the reader gets
the knack of mentally adding or substituting words to aid understanding. For example, Frosts lines they
have left not one stone on a stone,/ But they would have the rabbit out of hiding could be clarified as
they would not leave a single stone on top of another if they were trying to drive a rabbit out of hiding.

In addition to using New England idiom, Frost enhances the informal, conversational manner of Mending
Wall by casting it in continuous form. That is, rather than dividing the poem into stanzas or other formal
sections, Frost presents an unbroken sequence of lines. Nevertheless, Frosts shifts of focus and tone
reveal five main sections in the poem.

In the first section (lines 1-4), the speaker expresses wonder at a phenomenon he has observed in nature:
Each spring, the thawing ground swells and topples sections of a stone wall on the boundary of his
property. In the second section (lines 5-11), he contrasts this natural destruction with the human
destruction wrought on the wall by careless hunters.

The last sections of the poem focus on the speakers relationship with his neighbor. In the third section
(lines 12-24), the speaker describes how he and his neighbor mend the wall; he portrays this activity
humorously as an outdoor game. The fourth section (lines 25-38) introduces a contrast between the
two men: The speaker wants to discuss whether there is actually a need for the wall, while the neighbor
will only say, Good fences make good neighbors. The fifth section (lines 38-45) concludes the poem in a
mood of mild frustration: The speaker sees his uncommunicative neighbor as an old-stone savage who
moves in darkness and seems incapable of thinking beyond the clichd maxim, which the neighbor
repeats, Good fences make good neighbors.