Volume 14, 2004
Table of Contents
An Interpretation of “The Black Cat” by John M. Avilla
The Things They Lost by John Graves Bates
Fear and Loathing in Rosedale by Daniel Brightman
Getting Over the Wall by Karen Butler
Till Death Do Us Part by Karen Butler
Her Lips Kiss No More by Alex Howell
Killing a Government by Alex Howell
One Moment in Time by Cindy Pavlos
The Joy That Kills by Cindy Pavlos
The Importance of Symbolism in “The Lamp at Noon”
by Kersti Ribb
The Dawning of a New Woman by Kimberlei G. Taylor
Invasion of North America by Kimberlei G. Taylor
Editorial Board
George Albert
Patricia Allen
Dianne Gregory
James Kershner
Production Staff
Cindy Pavlos
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English Composition II
John M. Avilla
An Interpretation of “The Black Cat”
Edgar Allan Poe was born in 1809 to professional actors
in Boston. Although he is best known today as a poet and
author of the macabre and psychedelic, in his own day he
was known almost exclusively as a critic and editor. His
life was riddled with tragedy to the point where he seemed
almost cursed. His mother, foster mother, and wife all died
of consumption. In his personal life, Poe felt unaccepted and
ridiculed by his peers. His life was also marked by failure
and a fruitless search for family. He gambled himself into a
$2,000 debt at boarding school that led to his dropping out
and a schism between himself and his foster father. He
joined the army in 1829 and, in an attempt at reconciliation
with his foster father, arranged to enter West Point. When
this failed, he got himself dishonorably discharged. He held
many high positions as a magazine editor and was successful
in boosting the sales of a few. Nevertheless, he never held a
job for more than two years. He died in 1849 in Baltimore
under mysterious circumstances (Biography Resource
Center).
“The Black Cat” is a narrative presented in the first person
by a nameless, unreliable and possibly mad narrator. He lays
this tale down from the confines of a prison cell on the eve of
his execution by hanging. He tells first of his beginnings as a
gentle child and then of his descent into alcoholism and
cruelty. The turning point in the tale is when, in a “ginnurtured” (Poe 131) rage, he gouges out the eye of his
favorite pet, a large black cat. Shortly thereafter, the
protagonist hangs his cat from a tree by a noose around its
neck. That very night, under circumstances mysterious only
to the hero, his house burns to its foundation. Only one wall
survives the inferno, the freshly plastered partition at the
head of his bed, which, by more of those mysterious
circumstances, now contains a bas-relief of a cat with a
noose around its neck. He then finds a substitute black cat
identical to the first in all details but one: It has a white
patch on its chest in the shape of the gallows. He swiftly
shifts from love to hatred of the “monster” (133). The climax
comes when the story-teller trips over cat number two and is
then stopped by his wife from severing the animal with an
axe. He then buries the axe in her forehead and walls up her
and, unbeknownst to him, the cat in the basement. The
suspicions of the investigators are almost allayed until,
rapping on the spot where his victims rest, the master
criminal elicits a scream from the cat.
The narrator of “The Black Cat” is of the most unreliable
kind. He hides the truth of his crime not only from the
reader but from himself. He tells us and he himself believes
that his initial crimes, those of the mutilation and
subsequent murder of his beloved cat, are the result of “the
spirit of Perverseness… one of the primitive impulses of the
human heart” (Poe 131). However, one must read this in
the context of Poe’s writing style. “Poe makes use of a
considerable number of motifs… in general: the
double” (Kayser 389). In “The Black Cat” particularly, the
device of double is used on multiple levels.
The most obvious example of the double in “The Black
Cat” is the second black cat. It is a perfect caricature of the
first in physical appearance and temperament, even
including a reference to the first cat’s demise and
foreshadowing the end the narrator will come to in the form
of the gallows-shaped white patch on its chest. There are,
however, other doubles in this story. The narrator’s wife, the
first cat and the second cat (on top of being the double of the
first cat) are all doubles of the narrator’s former self. Therein
lies the narrator’s motive. As Ed Piacentino points out, “The
psychodynamics of his wife’s being one of the ‘mirrors of
[the narrator’s] lost self’… provide the underlying
motive…” (4-5). It seems, therefore, that his true motive in
the two murders committed and one attempted is to destroy
all that reminds him of who he once was.
It is also possible to see in “The Black Cat” a fourth
example of the double. This is the narrator himself as a
double for Poe. Patrick F. Quinn saw Poe in all of his
protagonists, from “the obsessed criminal whose story of
defeat is ‘The Black Cat’” to the “detective-hero
Dupin” (390). Poe, much like the narrator of “The Black cat,”
had many things in his past he would have liked to erase.
Unlike the narrator, Poe only “tried to relieve with
alcohol” (BRC 2) and did not murder anyone. He was,
however, a disagreeable person. It is thus plausible to view
“The Black Cat” as autobiographical in that the narrator can
represent Poe and the narrator’s crimes against the
representations of his past can represent Poe’s desire to rid
himself of his past. Along this same vein, it is also possible to
read this as Poe’s desire to rid him of himself.
A way to view “The Black Cat” that is complementary to
the idea of doing away with one’s past also exists. It is
possible to interpret this tale as a warning of the inevitability
of an overly sensitive soul’s becoming first introverted, then
bitter, and finally self destructive. Poe has been noted by
biographers to have been over sensitive and to have sought
escape in the company of animals. A fellow student at West
Point is quoted as saying “that Poe ‘fretted over any joke at
his expense’ particularly the story based on ‘his being
slightly older than his classmates’” (Piacentino 8). Poe, like
the protagonist of this tale, became an alcoholic and was, as
previously mentioned, a disagreeable person. It seems
then that the purpose of all the doubling within this story is
to draw the readers’ attention to three things. It draws our
attention to the kind of person that the narrator/Poe was,
the kind of person he has become, and, most importantly,
how he came to make this negative transformation.
Although there are probably myriad ways in which to
interpret this, as well as any of Poe’s tales, the interpretation
laid down here seems to be the most naturally flowing. The
ways in which this story mirrors Poe’s life and the way the
reader is constantly reminded of the narrator’s former self,
both by the narrator himself and by his numerous doubles,
make the autobiographical-warning interpretation
practically stab one in the eye.
Works Cited
Biography Resource Center. Ed. Encyclopedia of World Biography, 2nd ed. 17
Vols. Gale Research, 1998. galenet.galegroup.com/servlet/BioRC?
vrsn=2.0&OP =contains
Kayser, Wolfgang. Un-titled. Vol. 1. Kansas City, Ms: Gale Research Company,
1988
Piacentino, Ed. “Poe’s ‘The Black Cat’ as a psychobiography: some reflections
on the narratological dynamics.” Newberry College, 1998.
web7.infotrac.galegroup.com/itw/infomark/
100/312/40069098w7 /purl=rc1_EAIM_0
Poe, Edgar Allan. “The Black Cat” Literature: Approaches to Fiction, Poetry
and Drama. Ed. Robert DiYanni. New York: McGraw-Hill. 2004. 130-135.
Quinn, Patrick F. Un-titled. Vol. 1. Kansas City, Ms: Gale Research Company,
1998.
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English Composition II
John Graves Bates
The Things They Lost
America lost more than the Vietnam War in the 60’s and
70’s. It lost more than an airbase on the other side of the
33rd parallel. It lost more than its supremacy. It lost more
than its innocence. America in the 60’s and 70’s lost the
hearts and minds of the young boys it sent off to fight a war
they could neither understand nor win. Tim O’Brien in
the story “The Things They Carried” goes to great length to
list the many things the men in the jungles of Vietnam had
to haul around with them. He also talks about the great
weight these items place upon the shoulders of boys playing
at being men. The reader can feel the burden these boys
carry, but the most important point O’Brien makes is not
about what the men stuff into their sacks in order to survive.
It’s about what the men had to leave behind in order to
survive. To make it out of the maelstrom they were so
carelessly tossed into, they had to lose their belief in the
supremacy, innocence, and love of the United States of
America.
The analogy that O’Brien builds into his story to explain
the growth of his protagonist, Lt Cross, is subtle yet
beautifully rich and thorough. He builds a character whose
influence on Lt. Cross leads to the traumatic event that
reshapes Lt. Cross’s thinking even though the character is
never physically present in the story. Martha is the
quintessential “girl back home.” Yet Martha is much more
than that. She is America. Lt. Cross’s feelings and thoughts
about Martha are the feelings and thoughts that all the
soldier-boys have for the nation they kissed goodbye on the
night they were called to duty. The effectiveness of Martha’s
character lies in O’Brien’s ability to weave his analogy
without stepping out and shouting his beliefs. He leaves it to
the reader to discover the message he wants to send. As
O’Brien himself says, “The best literature is explorative….
Fiction is a way of testing possibilities and testing
hypotheses, and not defining…” (Napersteck 4).
The change that Lt. Cross undergoes during the climax is
the same transition many soldiers went through in regards
to their feelings towards America. By O’Brien’s use of the
character of Martha to represent America, the reader is
brought on this journey of disillusionment. Like all soldiers
who go off to war and leave a girl behind, Lt. Cross at the
start of the story wants desperately to believe in the purity of
the young woman who holds his heart. While looking over a
picture of Martha, he reflects that, “Her legs… were almost
certainly the legs of a virgin”(708). This concept of her
purity is repeated throughout the story, and each time the
thought arises, it takes more effort for Lt. Cross to convince
himself of its truth. The soldiers sent to the Vietnam War
have a similar struggle. Every day they try continuously to
believe in the right and righteousness of the country that
sent them to die. They try to have faith that their great
nation is truly pure in its intentions. Tragically, the soldiers,
like Lt. Cross, are unable to maintain their illusions. In
the end, though, for the soldiers the question of innocence
becomes moot; “virginity was no longer an issue. He hated
her. Yes he did. He hated her. Love, too, but it was a hard,
hating kind of love” (717). In order to survive, the soldiers
must abandon such useless thoughts that only distract them
from survival.
The question of love is very important in the expanding
analogy of Martha. The photo that Lt. Cross carries “was a
Kodacolor signed love, though he knew better” (707). Lt.
Cross knows from the beginning that Martha doesn’t love
him, but he is so enamored with her that it doesn’t matter to
him. Yet as he progresses through the story and the events of
the war unfold for him, he starts to question this faith. He
starts to wonder “what her truest feelings were, exactly, and
what she meant by separate but together” (710). The horrors
the soldiers are exposed to make them all question how
much their country really loves them. They start to see that
their love for the country can’t make up for a system that
sends them empty platitudes but no true feelings. As much
as they love their country, they grow to hate it as well. They,
as well as Lt. Cross, come to realize that “she wasn’t
involved. She signed the letters love, but it wasn’t love, and
all the fine lines and technicalities did not matter” (717).
The question then for Lt. Cross is whom does she love? If
it isn’t the soldiers the country they call home cares about,
who then is America concerned with? This question comes
to Lt. Cross early in the story as “he wondered who had
taken the picture, because he knew she had boyfriends,
because he loved her so much, and because he could see the
shadow of the picture-taker spreading out against the brick
wall” (707). The soldiers, as their disillusionment grew,
knew that the war wasn’t about democracy. So they
wondered in the back of their minds what forces had aligned
themselves with their love, their country. This is a question
that never gets answered, not in the story, not back then,
and not even now. The soldiers were left to wonder “who had
been with her that afternoon. He [they] imagined a pair of
shadows moving along a strip of sand where things came
together” (710).
In the end Lt. Cross and all the soldiers who survived the
war were changed. “The Things They Carried” “carries the
suggestion that no human project can survive the
contamination of exposure to the Vietnam War: not the
political ambitions and private sanity of the veteran” (Eder
1). By the end of the story, Lt. Cross comes to realize many
things. The innocent country he loves is base in its
intentions. The country he loves does not love him. The
country he loves works with those who keep outside the
frame. These shadows affect and enjoy the pleasure of the
country he loves. Lt. Cross comes to realize many things, but
the most striking, the most powerful, is that none of that
matters. He learns that in order to survive he must lay aside
these thoughts, these concerns and these feelings. In order
to survive he has to leave behind these notions, memories
and mementos and focus on the job he was sent to do. He
can’t focus on love. He has to focus on killing.
Works Cited
Eder, Richard. “Vanishing Act.” Los Angeles Times Book Review Oct. 2, 1994:
3. Contemporary Literary Criticism. Infotrac. Cape Cod Community
College Lib., West Barnstable, MA. 30 March 2004 .
Naparsteck, Martin. “An Interview with Tim O’Brien.” Contemporary
Literature. 32.1. (1994): 1-11. Contemporary Literary Criticism. Infotrac.
Cape Cod Community College Lib., West Barnstable, MA. 30 March 2004.
O’Brien, Tim. “The Things They Carried.” Literature: An Introduction To
Fiction, Poetry, And Drama. Ed. X. J. Kennedy and Dana Gioia. 8th ed.
New York: Longman, 2002. 706-718.
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English Composition I
Daniel Brightman
Fear and Loathing in Rosedale
When encountering unlikable people, the best course of
action is to find a group they belong to and hate everyone in
it.
I grew up in the Rosedale section of Queens in New York
City. Across the city line from us was an affluent section of
Nassau County called the Five Towns. Many of the people
who lived there were Jewish, and I hated them. They were all
rich snobs, and they hated people like me, didn’t they? When
my friends and I rode our bikes through their
neighborhoods, I saw the way the parents looked at us as if
we were looking for something to steal. If we ran into a
group of Five Towns kids at the mall, we would yell insults at
them, and they would yell back. Sometimes it went even
further than this. Of course, we also needed each other.
We worked for them at their country club. We would carry
their golf bags, hand them their clubs, and watch where their
balls landed, but never really interact with them. We would
do our jobs, be paid well, and go home, although we still
hated each other, right?
I went to a Catholic grammar school, and I think this in
part led to my misunderstanding of other religions. Sure, I
had friends who weren’t Catholic, but at least they were
Christians. The pastor of our church, while a devout and
selfless man, told us that the only true religion was
Catholicism. I didn’t know anything about the Jewish faith,
and I didn’t want to know.
I graduated from this small-thinking school and went on
to high school. Unlike my older siblings, I chose to go to a
public high school. It was truly a multicultural place. A
significant number of my teachers were Jewish, as were
several of the other students. They seemed like ordinary
people; I was a little confused by this. I went out for, and
made, the football team. A few of my teammates were
Jewish, and I got along well with these guys. When we went
away to football camp, I bunked with two of them and had a
great time. Did I mention that both coaches were Jewish,
too? Two finer men, who gave almost all their free time to
help us, I’ve never met.
Well, by now I wasn’t sure which way was up; I needed to
figure all this out. They were Jewish, but I liked them, and
they liked me. We had fun hanging out together. Some of the
girls seemed interested in me, and they were fun to be with. I
went to dances with them and on dates, and I had a very
good time. Maybe they weren’t so different.
Although I am not always the sharpest tool in the shed, it
began to dawn on me that I had been sadly mistaken about
Jewish people. They were just like me. They had families
they loved. They ate with them, fought with them, and lived
with them—just like me. Even if they had different holidays
than I did, they still believed in their God just as I believed in
mine. Oh, and not all of them were rich. Most of them didn’t
have any more than my family and some even less.
Getting back to those people in Five Towns, I realized it
was all right not to like them if I did not like them for who
they were as individuals, not for which religion they
followed. People should be judged by who they are, not by
which direction they face to pray.
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English Composition II
Karen Butler
Getting Over the Wall
The ultimate meaning in Robert Frost’s poem “Mending
Wall” reaches far beyond its literal description of two
neighbors fixing a stone wall that divides their property. A
deeper analysis of the poetry reveals a division between two
levels of consciousness that are operating simultaneously.
One is a young man’s surface-level thinking based on
tradition and responsibility and the other an old farmer’s
growing potential for a deeper understanding of things. The
theme of the poem is found in the contradictory nature of
the two characters Frost creates. The author uses the
paradoxes found in life and nature, unique symbols, and
vivid imagery to bring the reader to the heart of the issue.
The narrator and his neighbor have opposing views on the
necessity and function of a wall that divides their property.
The narrator is an insightful old farmer and his neighbor a
young man living in his father’s footsteps. The farmer insists
that “something there is that doesn’t love a wall” (ln 1, 36)
while his young neighbor would have made his father proud
by insisting that “good fences make good neighbors” (ln 27,
45). Each year during the winter, Mother Nature and her
frost heaves break apart the wall while the two men are
keeping warm inside. Every spring the neighbors mend what
she has torn down. The wise old farmer cannot help but
question this ritual.
The farmer questions the necessity and actual function of
the wall. Walls, in his opinion, are designed to keep cattle
from wandering off. The irony is that neither man has any
cattle. The farmer begins to question inwardly the meaning
and implication of the old stone wall. He tries to convince
the young man that his “apple trees will never get across and
eat the cones under his pines” (25). The young man’s
property is over populated with tall, erect pine trees while
the old man’s has apple trees full of fruit. This symbolizes
the young man’s course, ordered nature in contrast with the
old man’s increasing sense of letting go of old traditions and
conventions. Mending the wall each year is a symbol of
man’s need for boundaries and lines of division, as well as
the human resentment they create.
One of the greatest problems of our times is determining
how high and thick the walls that surround our country
should be. The recent terrorist attacks on our country’s soil
provoked many people to believe the walls should be made
stronger while others believe the walls inhibit progress and
growth. Building and maintaining walls eliminates the
opportunity for understanding. Yet walls also provide
protection. Therein is the debate.
The images Frost creates help the reader to understand
the symbols and the characters in “Mending Wall.” He uses
vivid images to allow the reader’s imagination to capture the
physical setting in the poem. Every winter the “frozenground-swell” (2) lifts and moves the wall and displaces
many of the stones. What Mother Nature does not
dismantle, the hunters take care of in their quest for a rabbit
“to please the yelping dogs” (9). The image of each man
walking on his own side of the wall and repairing what has
fallen represents their conflicting consciousness. The
narrator describes the young neighbor as an “old-stone
savage” (41) as he firmly and unconsciously carries his
stones to the wall. He is intent on maintaining the wall as he
“moves in darkness” (42). Perhaps the darkness is that of his
life while living in the shadow of his father.
Robert Frost’s “Mending Wall” is a complex poem with
many layers of interpretation. Through the use of paradoxes,
symbols, and images Frost creates a poem that any reader
can enjoy regardless of experience. The boundaries and
limitations of man have been in question since antiquity.
Frost appears to be assessing the meaning of walls, what
they come to represent to whom, and why.
Works Cited
Frost, Robert. “Mending Wall.” The Bedford Introduction to Literature. Ed.
Michael Meyer. Boston: Stratford Publishing Services, Inc., 2003. 778779.
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English Composition II
Karen Butler
Till Death Do Us Part
Kate Chopin’s “The Story of an Hour” and D.H.
Lawrence’s “The Horse Dealer’s Daughter” portray two
female characters searching for an identity while living
similar lives of repression. Each woman struggles
psychologically and experiences traumatic, life-changing
events. The stories engage the reader in an exploration of
complex characters, symbolic settings, and themes of loss,
love, and despair. The reader is exposed to the emotional
struggles of Mrs. Mallard, who loses the freedom she’s
attained in an instant, and the isolated Mabel, who
eventually gains everything she is searching for.
Mrs. Mallard is “young, with a fair, calm face, whose lines
bespoke repression and even a certain strength” (13). She
has heart trouble, so to avoid possible heart failure, the news
of her husband’s death must be delivered delicately. With
this news, Mrs. Mallard experiences a host of extreme, yet
strangely contradictory emotions. She “wept at once” (13)
and then retreated to her room alone. While she was alone in
her room, a great calm came over her. “She did not stop to
ask if it were or were not a monstrous joy that held her”(13).
Mrs. Mallard is released from the restrictions of her married
life. “’Free! Body and Soul free!’ she kept whispering” (14).
Yet she continues to struggle with her intense, conflicting
emotions because “she had loved him-sometimes”(14).
Lawrence’s protagonist, Mabel, experiences similar
emotions that accompany freedom, yet they are unwelcome.
Mabel is a “short, sullen-looking young woman of twentyseven” (442) who has no individual identity. She lives on her
father’s successful horse farm with her brothers. The only
thought that makes Mabel happy is her “sense of money,
[which] has kept her proud, confident”(445). However, the
family’s “desolate breakfast-table“ and the “dreary dining
room” (442) serve to remind her that she has lost everything
she knows. Her father passes away, and the family cannot be
held together any longer. The house is going up for auction,
and Mabel’s brothers make their plans for their life off the
farm. For years Mabel has been living a servant lifestyle,
taking care of house and family. She is unappreciated and
ridiculed by her brothers and does nothing to defend herself.
She is a miserable, weak woman, who seems never to have
made a decision in life. The winter setting that surrounds
Mabel magnifies the loss and despair she is experiencing.
The stories are set in seasons that symbolize each character’s
emotion and consciousness.
“The Story of an Hour” takes place in spring, and through
her bedroom window, Mrs. Mallard can see “the tops of trees
that were all aquiver with the new spring life”(13). This is a
metaphor for the beginning of a new life for her. On the
contrary, D.H. Lawrence uses winter to allow the reader to
appreciate the depth of Mabel’s suffering. “It was a gray,
wintry day, with saddened, dark green fields and an
atmosphere blackened by the smoke of foundries”(446).
Ironically, Chopin’s story, although set in spring, ends in
death. Lawrence’s story, which is set in winter, ends in love.
Both authors use the characters’ homes as the physical
setting, which lends a sense of authenticity to the characters’
emotions. In “The Horse Dealer’s Daughter” the narrator
refers to the home as if looking “through the innermost
body”(447) of people’s lives.
The underlying themes of loss, love, and despair can be
found in both stories in spite of the dramatically different
effects and results. The loss of her husband for Mrs. Mallard
serves to remind her of her freedom and “the spring days,
and summer days, and all sorts of days that would be her
own”(14). In an unexpectedly dark twist, Mrs. Mallard’s
husband returns, and she dies of a “heart affliction”(12)
when her husband opens the front door. She has barely
embraced her newfound freedom as it slips through her
fingers. She essentially dies of a broken heart. Chopin
explores the emotional struggle of maintaining an individual
identity in marriage. Mrs. Mallard’s marriage stifles her, and
she celebrates the freedom her widowed status brings,
whereas Mabel decides her life is worth living because a man
loves her.
For Mabel, the loss of all she had ever known led her to
“walk slowly and deliberately towards the center of the
pond” (448). She attempts to take her own life, but in an
ironic twist of fate she is saved by the man she will marry. In
contrast to Mrs. Mallard, Mabel finds salvation in love and
marriage. The reader cannot help but wonder if Mabel will
someday feel the way Mrs. Mallard feels about marriage.
Through the use of complex characters, symbolic settings,
and similar themes, Kate Chopin and D.H. Lawrence depict
the problems inherent in marriage. They each raise
interesting questions about the institution of marriage and
the importance of individual identity
Works Cited
Chopin, Kate. “The Story of an Hour.” The Bedford Introduction to Literature.
Ed. Michael Meyer. Boston: Stratford Publishing Services, Inc. 2003. 1114.
Lawrence, D.H. “The Horse Dealer’s Daughter.” The Bedford Introduction to
Literature. Ed. Michael Meyer. Boston: Stratford Publishing Services, Inc.
2003. 441-452.
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English Composition II
Alex Howell
Her Lips Kiss No More
Love is a fickle, disturbing emotion. At different times it
can wrench and twist the heart and the soul into disfigured
shapes at will and conversely feel as wonderful and taste as
sweet as ambrosia from the gods. It can hurt an individual
deeply and thoroughly and when it is gone make that person
feel profoundly alone and isolated. The speaker in the poem
“What Lips My Lips Have Kissed” by Edna St. Vin-cent
Millay explores the hurt and despair that love has produced
in her life. The loss of love in her life causes her to feel
barren and empty.
The speaker’s despair is evident from the outset of the
poem. “What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,/I
have forgotten, and what arms have lain/Under my head till
morning; but the rain/Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and
sigh/Upon the glass and listen for reply” (1-5). The speaker
provides many clues to her life in these lines and gives
reasons that she is so sad and forlorn. She has enjoyed the
intimate company of more than a few suitors, but it is all a
blur; there is no distinction between any of them anymore.
This lack of distinction detracts from their individual
importance and only adds to the sorrow. However, she is
haunted by the memory of these lost loves, and those
memories are torturing her.
The extent of that torment is bluntly stated in the next
lines. “And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain/For
unremembered lads that not again/Will turn to me at
midnight with a cry” (6-8). The emptiness she feels is very
clear, but there is a tinge of regret in her thoughts.
The speaker has had great passion in her life, but at the
expense of soli-darity and a feeling of completeness. Her
many encounters with the “unremembered lads” of her
past give her pause over the course she has steered her life.
She wishes that perhaps she had gone another way. The
speaker uses great symbolism to show how the fleeing of her
lovers has changed her. “Thus in the winter stands the lonely
tree,/Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,/Yet
knows its boughs more silent than before” (9-11). The
speaker shows how empty and alone she feels. Her use of the
symbolism of the barren tree in winter allows her to impart
to the reader the true extent of her despair and longing. The
parading of lovers through her life has left her nothing but
grief, and she wishes she had not been so reckless and open
with her emotions.
It is in the last few lines that the speaker’s intense feelings
of de-spondency emerge. “I cannot say what loves have come
and gone,/I only know that summer sang in me/A little
while, that in me sings no more” (12-14). The speaker truly
regrets her hedonistic lifestyle and wishes she had acted
differently. The human race uses the past to de-termine how
the course of their life will continue, and she is no exception. When the speaker looks through her past, she sees that
she has given her heart away frivolously to individuals who
perhaps did not de-serve so precious a gift. The song that
“summer sang” in her was si-lenced only by her carelessness
and youthful zeal. She is truly lonely.
Works Cited
Millay, Edna St. Vincent. “What Lips My Lips Have Kissed.” Discover-ing the
Many Worlds of Literature. Ed. Stuart Hirschberg and Terry Hirschberg.
New York: Pearson Longman, 2004. 447-448.
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English Composition II
Alex Howell
Killing a Government
An interesting parallel that the United States and the
nation of Burma share is the fact that both nations have
shaken off the imperial-istic cover of the British government.
Both have proven unequivocally that an imperialistic regime
cannot and does not work, albeit in differ-ent ways and at
different times. The British Raj, which was in place in Burma
from the early 1800’s until 1947, was a particularly
oppressive government that did not allow the Burmese any
sort of self-rule until 1923, which also was when George
Orwell served as a police official representing that
government (“History of Myanmar”). In his essay “Shooting
an Elephant,” Orwell explores the pressures and injustices
that a despotic government places upon him and its subjects
and the unpleasant situations that can emerge because of
that pressure.
Orwell’s disdain for the government he is serving is
evident from the beginning of the essay. “For at that time I
had already made up my mind that imperialism was an evil
thing and the sooner I chucked up my job and got out of it
the better. Theoretically – and secretly, of course – I was all
for the Burmese and all against their oppressors, the
British” (Orwell 618). Orwell is a bit of a paradox in this
situation, and he realizes this. He despises the government
and supports the people it suppresses, yet works diligently
for a part of the system that does most of the suppressing.
This duality presents a problem for Orwell because he
cannot act out of his conscience in any instance. In his heart
he is sympathetic to the Burmese, but he still has a job to do
as an official of the government. As he puts it, “Feelings like
these are the normal byproducts of imperialism…” (619).
The situation Orwell encounters concerning the
rampaging ele-phant serves as a symbol of the larger picture
of imperialistic oppres-sion. “It was a tiny incident itself, but
it gave me a better glimpse than I had had before of the real
nature of imperialism – the real motives for which despotic
governments act” (619). Orwell is forced to confront the
system he secretly despises in his meeting with the elephant.
He must confront himself and decide which side of the fence
he stands on. The fact that a large crowd has formed around
him and the fact that the elephant has killed an Indian man
make his decision all the more difficult. It is another
paradox, one that he cannot escape.
Orwell tries to cite the mob mentality as a reason he killed
the animal. “And suddenly I realized that I should have to
shoot the ele-phant after all. The people expected it of me
and I had got to do it; I could feel their two thousand wills
pressing me forward, irresistibly” (621). However, there is
much more at stake than simply social pres-sure. Orwell, as
a representative of the oppressive regime, must kill the
elephant because he has to enforce the absolute authority
and power of the state. To do anything less would be akin to
admitting to the people of Burma that the system does not
work. He becomes, in effect, nothing more than a pawn,
because it is his government’s ide-als he is charged with
upholding. He has to go against everything he truly believes
in. “I perceived in this moment that when the white man
turns tyrant it is his own freedom that he destroys” (621).
The incident is a microcosm of the larger issue at hand.
Orwell shows how the power of imperialism can bring about
true injustice in its futile quest to hold onto control
Works Cited
History of Myanmar/Burma. 2003. The Expanded Columbia Electronic
Encyclopedia. 22 April 2004.
historychannel.com/perl/print_book.pl?ID=102814
please note that the original web address can no longer be found and a similar
historychannel page has been substituted - web editor
Orwell, George. “Shooting an Elephant.” Discovering The Many Worlds of
Literature. Ed. Stuart Hirschberg and Terry Hirschberg. New York:
Pearson Longman, 2004. 618-623.
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English Composition I
Cindy Pavlos
One Moment in Time
The long and painful years of World War II are carefully
documented in newsreels that brought the scenes of battle
home to those who waited. Scores of books have been
written, detailing the fall of Warsaw, the bombing of Pearl
Harbor, and the devastation of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Even today, films such as Pearl Harbor draw us into lives of
the 30’s and 40’s, making us feel we were there. My own
emotional connection with that distant and devastating era,
however, comes from one aged and yellowed photograph,
taken in 1946 at the foot of a ship’s gangway. At first glance,
it seems an ordinary old photo, black and white, grainy and
starting to fade a little. A man, a woman and a child are
standing next to a ship, and some unknown photographer
has snapped their picture, capturing their private reunion.
The uniformed first lieutenant awkwardly holding the
little boy is my father. His lopsided smile betrays his
nervousness, reunited with his wife and child after the last
eighteen months of war. He had said goodbye to his wife and
baby son a lifetime ago on a hot and bright Florida
morning. After many months at sea, six months with the
occupation forces in Japan, and more endless months on the
tropical and still dangerous island of Okinowa, his waiting is
finally over. His family has just walked off a ship full of
women and children, down the gangplank and into his arms.
This reunion, for my father, must have been the real V-Day.
The young woman to the left, hair tightly curled and
shoulders padded in the style of the 40’s, is my mother. She
stands stiffly facing the photographer, a bit separate from
her child and husband. Her eyebrows are slightly raised;
maybe this was not the scene she had imagined. Her slight,
hesitant smile lacks conviction, perhaps due to the endless
weeks of rolling seas and constant nausea, or maybe just the
strange feel of solid ground under her feet again. For the
past eighteen months, she has been a single mother, coping
with the demands of a busy toddler. Living at home with her
parents and her fears, she has prayed daily for the end of the
war and the reunion of her own small family. Three weeks
on a troop supply ship full of anxious wives and hoards of
children have stretched thin her good spirits and patience.
The little boy in the middle, scowling at the photographer,
is my brother. His little cap, fastened under his chin, and
wool jacket make him appear older and more serious than
his two years. He is leaning towards his mother, neither
comfortable nor happy perched on his father’s right arm. He
looks close to tears and seems to be squirming to get down.
For as long as he can remember, he has lived alone with his
mother and grandparents. Daddy was just a character in
stories his Momma told him, not this frightening stranger
who lifted him up and wouldn’t put him down
It is too late to ask my mother and father what their
feelings, hopes and fears were at that moment, reunited at
the side of a ship and looking forward to the rest of their
lives. They are gone and the moment is lost, although I have
spent hours staring into their young faces. Their stories,
both imagined and known, live now in my imagination. I can
truly understand why it is said that a picture is worth a
thousand words.
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English Composition II
Cindy Pavlos
The Joy That Kills
This extremely brief short story by Kate Chopin leads the
reader rapidly through a storm of intense emotion and
comes to an unexpected and shocking climax with the death
of the protagonist, Mrs. Mallard. The final line shocks us;
"When the doctors came they said she had died of heart
disease - of joy that kills" (884). This conclusion is based
upon their knowledge of Mrs. Mallard's health and the
assumption that her heart, having been broken with the
news of her husband's untimely death, could not withstand
the happy shock of his reappearance. The lingering question
posed by “The Story of an Hour” remains, however, and begs
the reader to form an independent conclusion. Why did Mrs.
Mallard die, and was her husband in some way responsible
for her death?
Chopin uses the privacy of the bedroom to allow the
reader to see Mrs. Mallard from a closer perspective. "She
was young, with a fair, calm face, whose lines bespoke
repression and even a certain strength" (883). Sinking into
an armchair set before an open window, the first wave of
grief spent, Mrs. Mallard's senses are confronted with signs
of rebirth from her window. "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" (883). This bedroom window shows Mrs.
Mallard her first glimpse of hope and the potential for her
own rebirth.
Kate Chopin uses these sights, sounds and scents of life to
symbolize a change, an awareness of something new coming.
Mrs. Mallard's first reaction is one of fear and
powerlessness. "There was something coming to her and she
was waiting for it, fearfully. She was striving to beat it back
with her will--as powerless as her two white slender hands
would have been" (883). Shocked by grief and unused to
exercising any power, Mrs. Mallard soon abandons this
struggle.
Until this point in the story, Kate Chopin has presented
Mrs. Mallard as a flat character, with little discernable
personality. At this point, however, Mrs. Mallard comes fully
alive as a dynamic and complex character. "The vacant stare
and the look of terror that had followed it went from her
eyes. They stayed keen and bright. Her pulse beat
fast" (883). Mrs. Mallard has seen a vision of her own future,
living for herself for the first time, and she suddenly feels
awakened and alive.
Kate Chopin does not encourage or allow her audience to
assume that Mrs. Mallard has been freed from a violent or
miserable marriage. "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"(883).
Brently Mallard, by all accounts a kind man, is accused only
of imposing a "powerful will bending her in that blind
persistence with which men and women believe they have a
right to impose a private will upon a fellow-creature" (883).
Mr. Mallard seems guilty only of being husband to a woman
chafing under the weight of marriage.
Chopin has given Mrs. Mallard only a moment to savor
this delicious, new vision of life. "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" (884).
Mrs. Mallard reluctantly pulls herself away from this
enticing vision, called back to the present by her sister, and
returns downstairs.
Brently Mallard's innocent entrance, "composedly
carrying his grip-sack and umbrella" (884), shocks both the
characters and the reader. Chopin comments, "Richard's
quick motion to screen him from the view of his wife" (884)
came too late, suggesting that great care would have also
been needed to break to Mrs. Mallard the news of her
husband's return to life.
Mrs. Mallard's weak heart fails, endangered by both
sudden good news as well as bad. Kate Chopin has given her
protagonist a tantalizing glimpse of an independent future in
“The Story of an Hour.” This unaccustomed feeling of selfassertion, described as "the strongest impulse of her
being”(884), brings about a cruel and ironic response to
Mrs. Mallard's brief prayer for a long life - her own death.
The “joy that kills” diagnosis seems to have been, after all,
fairly accurate.
Works Cited
Chopin, Kate. “The Story of an Hour.” The Harbrace Anthology of Literature.
3rd Ed. Ed. John C. Stott, Raymond E. Jones and Rick Bowers. Canada:
Nelson, 2002. 882-884.
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English Composition II
Kersti Ribb
The Importance of Symbolism in “The Lamp at Noon”
In Sinclair Ross’ “The Lamp at Noon,” the wind and the
light of the lamp are two symbols that Ross utilizes to bring
emphasis upon the main theme of the story. The wind and
lamp are somewhat in opposition to each other, one being,
in this case, a destructive force of nature, the other
representing hope and faith.
The lamp is introduced in the very first sentence of the
story, “A little before noon she lit the lamp” (Ross 961). The
light is a reminder, a guide like a lighthouse to signal her
husband of the time to eat. The setting of the story is a
desolate Canadian farm in the thick of a dust storm, and it is
easy to imagine that this time of the day is intended to be a
time of rest, a chance to regroup and refuel. Ross provides
this one relief for the family of young protagonists.
The wind, on the other hand, seems an incessant
antagonist. Ross uses vivid imagery, “And always the wind,
the creak of the walls, the wild lipless wailing through the
loft” (966). The “livid face” (966) even contains his wife’s
pleas that they leave the oppressive farm. The wind not only
dominates the landscape but also begins to consume the
relationship of husband and wife. The pressure of such a
destructive element causes them to disagree and argue.
Ross also indicates that the absence of light is a sign for
despair: “But she was gone when he reached the house. The
door was open, the lamp blown out, the crib empty” (967).
The extinguished lamp is put there by Ross to foreshadow
the death of the baby. It adds even more impact to his use of
irony as the young mother bolts from the house with her
child in search of refuge and unknowingly ends the baby’s
life.
Though the lamp that Ross uses in this story may be
viewed only as a contextual symbol, light in a broader sense
is undoubtedly archetypal. It is an archetype not only
because of its function, but more so because of what it has
come to represent. We speak of those who live in darkness,
those who have a darker side. Darkness is generally given a
negative connotation. Darkness is blindness is confusion.
Light, on the other end, is visibility, knowledge, safety and
holiness, to name a few. In “The Lamp at Noon” Ross draws
from many of these archetypal characteristics, both of light
and dark.
The wind is yet another archetype. It possesses its own
contradictions. A light breeze that brings refreshment is very
opposite that of a driving windstorm that brings with it
devastation. Ross chooses to display fully its destructive
capabilities. Wind is certainly one of nature’s most powerful
forces and in one way or another has been experienced by
everybody. It is important to recognize that archetypal
symbolism is useful in that it is inclusive and allows people
to relate on a very broad level.
The main theme that rings clearly throughout the story is
man versus nature. Ross allows the reader to see the full
damage caused by the dust, drought and wind. The wind
takes on a certain personification. It seems almost to have a
brutal and aggressive personality even though in truth it is
unfeeling and indifferent, “Instead of release or escape from
the assaulting wind, the walls were but a feeble stand against
it. They creaked and sawed as if the fingers of a giant hand
were tightening to collapse them...” (Ross 965).
Various other conflicts are included in the theme. The
farmer experiencing the desperation and failure of not
having the resources to provide for his family is a great
stressor. The arguments that ensue with his wife are another
sign that nerves and hopes are wearing thin. It seems as
though Ross is trying to make a statement. Nature is a huge
unchangeable force and how do we as human beings
endure? Do we come together or fall apart? When and if we
do hold out hope, why? It is difficult to say what keeps us
striving and hoping and working for a future when all odds
are against us. Whatever that one motivation may be, it is
momentarily captured and illustrated by Ross as one small
lamp. “The Lamp at Noon” exhibits an intense symbolic tugof -war. The vivid chaos of nature and the timid
encouragement of light representing faith in the form of a
lamp are at battle. Ross uses his creativity to impose
descriptions that can only make the reader feel frustration
and despair. Just as the persistence of the wind is at its peak,
the lamp is doused. Then, oddly enough, the wind begins to
dissipate and the dust begins to settle. We come to see that
the light of the lamp has waned only to reappear in the sky.
Works Cited
Ross, Sinclair. “The Lamp at Noon.” The Harbrace Anthology of Literature. 3rd
ed. Ed. Jon C. Stott, Raymond E. Jones, Rick Bowers. Toronto: Nelson
Thomson Learning, 2002. 961-68.
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Environmental Science
Kimberlei G. Taylor
Invasion of North America
Forest Communities are being invaded by foreign
detritovores. Scientific research suggests that the majority of
native earthworm species were killed off when glaciers
covered the northern half of the continent during the
Pleistocene era (Minard). There are no native earthworm
species found in Canada. Small populations of native
earthworms are found in the southeastern United States and
the Pacific Coast (Minard). During the mid-1990s,
earthworms were first identified as the culprits responsible
for altering the ecosystems in hardwood forests. By invading
pristine forests, they are changing the decomposition and
nutrient dynamics of the forest floor—this phenomenon is
transforming deciduous forests from New England to
Minnesota. In coniferous forests, there is little information
available regarding earthworm impact on soil (Parkinson
221). Scientists are concerned with the potentially dangerous
impact of a few species of exotic earthworms and are
focusing their studies on the northern temperate forests’
ecosystems. There is now evidence that earthworms can
change soils, and they are now being blamed for changing
the forest ecosystem.
It is believed that immigrant earthworms were initially
introduced by colonial settlers—such earthworms are found
throughout Europe and the British Isles—arriving
inconspicuously in imported plants and soils (Pacyna). Since
then, other introductions have been made through
discarding of fishing bait, composting, shipping of
agricultural and horticultural products, and importing for
commercial applications—waste management and
bioremediation projects. Lack of competition from native
earthworms and similarities in habitats have likely allowed
exotic earthworm populations to become well established.
Some researchers have identified the Lumbricus rubellus—
commonly known as marsh worm, red wriggler and
European earthworms—as “voracious and destructive,”
especially in soil around water sources where fishermen
dump their bait (Minard).
Earthworms are made for living in soil. Their anatomy is
specially adapted for feeding underground and allows them
to move through the soil using muscles and hydraulics.
Earthworms do not have eyes, ears, or a nose but are
equipped with cells that sense light, vibrations, and scents.
These defense mechanisms enable them to avoid dry areas—
if dry, they cannot absorb oxygen—and to avoid ingesting
harmful substances. The earthworm’s skin contains mucusproducing glands. The mucus is necessary for respiration
because the moisture allows oxygen to be transported into
the body. Earthworms are divided into segments filled with
liquid which, when under pressure, pushes and pulls the
worm along. Bristles called setae located under the worm
keep it from slipping backwards. A hard area on the head
acts like a drill, which enables the worm to swallow particles
of soil, organic matter, and animals. The food is stored for a
while in a sac called a crop before entering the gizzard where
it is ground up and then enters the intestine. Digestive fluids
break down the food, which allows nutrients to be absorbed
by the body with any waste material being discarded through
the anus.
As earthworms move through the soil, they cultivate and
fertilize the soil with their waste—worm casts—which
contains nutrients needed by plants and helps reduce the
acidity of soil. They consume large quantities of organic
material and microorganisms to obtain energy and
nutrients. Deep forest ecosystems have evolved without the
presence of powerful detritovores who can rapidly attack the
forest floor and interrupt nutrient cycling and plant
regeneration. Lumbricus rubellus, beneficial in gardens and
in farm fields, is being identified as the primary culprit
negatively impacting forests. They increase the rate at which
forest litter decomposes, which thwarts the regeneration of
plant and tree seedlings and contributes to erosion by
removing organic matter. Seeds germinate in the forest
litter. Earthworms also selectively ingest plant seeds along
with the decomposing matter (Doube). Unfortunately, the
leaf litter is decaying so quickly that the soil is becoming
bare. There is no protective layer of leaves. This results in
nitrogen being washed away before plants can use it.
Scientists blame Lumbricus rubellus for extirpating rare
plant communities found only in northern hardwood forests.
Three prominent biologists and members of the
International Symposium on Earthworm Ecology were
recently featured in Anne Minard’s article, “Researchers
Build a Case for Earthworm’s Slimy Reputation.” Dr. Paul
Hendrix, a professor at the University of Georgia, published
an inventory of the effects of earthworms across the country
in 2002. Cindy Hale, a forest ecologist at the Natural
Resources Institute at the University of Minnesota at
Duluth, wrote her dissertation on “exotic earthworm
invasions in sugar maple forests”. Michael Gundale wrote
his master’s thesis at Michigan Technological University
about “invasive worms’ effects on the rare goblin fern in
northern hardwood forests.”
In Minnesota, the source of invasive earthworms “almost
without exception” comes from “lakeshores, boat ramps, and
roadside ditches. There’s strong anecdotal evidence that
worms used for fishing bait is an important source of
transport in rural areas” (Tenenbaum). Hale explains how
she started an earthworm farm as a child which transformed
the forest near her house—“Now our oak woods is nothing
but buckthorn” (Minard). Gundale has identified at least one
exotic earthworm species that is eating fungi associated with
the goblin fern’s roots (Minard). The fern roots and the fungi
work together to extract nutrients and moisture from the
soil. Without assistance from the fungi, it is possible the
goblin will face extinction.
Research shows there is a direct correlation between
increases in earthworm population and decreases in tree
seedlings and plants found in forest understories
(Tenenbaum). With data collected, researchers are
repeatedly able to map out lines that dramatically show
earthworms on one side and none on the other. There is also
visual surface evidence of invasion. In areas with earthworm
infestation, the duff layer is completely gone. Additionally,
soil layers are nonexistent, as they have been intermixed by
earthworm activity. Mature trees do not appear to be
affected, but the future of the forest depends upon seedlings.
No one believes removing the invaders is a viable
solution, but what scientists propose appears sensible. Their
goal is to enlist other soil researchers and the general public
in efforts to contain the spread of exotic invasive
earthworms. Hendrix wishes to see pristine areas preserved.
Hale believes that not dumping bait will give us hundreds of
years to find a solution (“Exotic Earthworms”). Gundale
suggests that drivers rinse off their vehicle tires before
entering wilderness areas to slow down earthworm
invasions. Will dumping bait be against the law some day?
Will rinsing tires really save rare plants?
Works Cited
Doube, Bernard M. and George G. Brown. “Life in a Complex Community:
Functional Interaction Between Earthworms, Organic Matter,
Microorganisms, and Plants.” Earthworm Ecology. Clive A. Edwards, ed.
Florida: St. Lucie Press, c1998. p. 179-211.
“Exotic Earthworms”. Byrd and Block Communications, Inc. 2001.
earthsky.com/2001/esmi019010.html 11/28/03.
Minard, Anne. “Researchers Build a Case for Earthworm’s Slimy Reputation.”
New York Times. Tuesday, October 28, 2003.
Pacyna, Sarah. “Introduced Species Summary Project: European Earthworm
(Lumbricus rubellus).” February 18, 2003 ed.
columbia.edu/itc/cerc/danoffburg/invasion_bio/inv_spp_summ/Lumbricus_ru... 11/9/03.
Parkinson, Dennis and Mary Ann McLean. “Impacts of Earthworms on the
Community Structure of Other Biota in Forest Soils.” Earthworm Ecology.
Clive A. Edwards, ed. Florida: St. Lucie Press, c1998. p. 213-226.
Tenenbaum, David. “It came from Underground.” 31 August 2000. University
of Wisconsin, 2000.
whyfiles.org/shorties/063worm_infest/ 11/28/03
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English Composition II
Kimberlei G. Taylor
The Dawning of a New Woman
Kate Chopin’s The Story of an Hour succinctly
illuminates the plight of the protagonist, Louise Mallard,
and her realization that she is free from the restraints of a
mainly loveless marriage. Religions of the time period
expected women to be subservient to male domination. The
setting is an important element in this story because it
reveals the psychological complexity of women and their
roles during “the rise of the New Woman of the
1890s” (Woloch 180). “The late nineteenth century is an era
of raised expectations for woman, both of men and
marriage” (184). Louise Mallard’s character represents the
formerly dutiful Victorian woman who is joyfully discarding
society’s imposed persona and anticipating a life filled with
previously unimaginable freedoms. American society’s
expectation of women was so restrictive during this
period that they felt compelled to break free and discover
their true identities.
In this story and others compiled in A Vocation and a
Voice, Chopin combines the psychological elements “of
human interiority, of the interplay of consciousness and
circumstance, of unconscious motive and reflexive action” in
such a way that proves she was “fully in tune with the
intellectual currents of her time” (“Katherine Chopin”).
Although Louise Mallard is young, her face is etched with
stress lines that indicate repression, yet she exhibits great
strength and determination. Her outward appearance is in
sharp contrast with the author’s description of her heart
condition. Louise’s heart condition is the reason the minor
characters, her husband’s friend Richards and Louise’s sister
Josephine, treat Louise delicately. When she hears the tragic
news of her husband’s death, she is upset but not in shock. It
is evident that Louise’s character is psychologically complex
and is not responding in a typical manner (“Katherine
Chopin”). Chopin writes, “She did not hear the story as many
women have heard the same, with a paralyzed inability to
accept its significance.” Louise Mallard’s, Josephine’s and
Brently’s behavior, along with the railroad accident,
reinforce the setting—time and place—of the story in
American society. It is a male-dominated industrial society
desperately holding on to beliefs firmly reinforced during the
Victorian era. Marital discord and divorce are rapidly
increasing, and turmoil is increasing due to man’s
ambivalence towards woman’s self-assertions (Woloch 184).
After the initial storm of emotion passes and the sun
breaks through the clouds—an archetypal symbol—it dawns
on Louise that she now controls her own destiny. It is in this
“brief moment of illumination” that Louise experiences
intense joy and begins to identify herself as an individual.
Louise realizes that she is free and immediately anticipates
that her life will hereafter be filled with happiness. She
knows for certain that her old life is over and a new life is
hers for the taking. Louise becomes conscious that her
husband’s “‘powerful will’ no longer restricts her and that
she may live as she wishes” (“Katherine Chopin”). Once
Louise’s soul has been set free, it is impossible for her to
accept the reality of her husband’s return and the inevitable
return of her previously restrictive life. Ironically, she dies of
shock when it dawns on her that the sun has set on her hour
of freedom.
Works Cited
“Katherine Chopin.” Encyclopedia of World Biography, 2nd ed. 17 Vols. Gale
Research, 1998. Reproduced in Biography Resource Center. Farmington
Hills, Mich.: The Gale Group. 2003. Document Number: K1631001360
Woloch, Nancy. Women and the American Experience: A Concise History. 2nd
ed. New York: McGrawHill, 2002.
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