“The Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin is often interpreted in several different ways and leaves many readers unsure about the true theme of the story. These interpretations range from the story being about liberation and escaping oppression to the struggles of marriage and the balance relationships need in order to function.
Type your interpretation about what you believe is the message Chopin is stating in “The Story of an Hour”. Students must textual evidence to support their claims and their answer must be 300 words long with a word count provided at the bottom of their paper.
“The Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin is often interpreted in several different ways and leaves many readers unsure about the true theme of the story. These interpretations range from the story being about liberation and escaping oppression to the struggles of marriage and the balance relationships need in order to function.
Type your interpretation about what you believe is the message Chopin is stating in “The Story of an Hour”. Students must textual evidence to support their claims and their answer must be 300 words long with a word count provided at the bottom of their paper.
“The Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin is often interpreted in several different ways and leaves many readers unsure about the true theme of the story. These interpretations range from the story being about liberation and escaping oppression to the struggles of marriage and the balance relationships need in order to function.
Type your interpretation about what you believe is the message Chopin is stating in “The Story of an Hour”. Students must textual evidence to support their claims and their answer must be 300 words long with a word count provided at the bottom of their paper.
The Story of an Hour
Kate Chopin
Knowing that Mrs. Mallard was afflicted with a heart trouble, great care was taken to break
to her as gently as possible the news of her husband's death.
It was her sister Josephine who told her, in broken sentences; veiled hints that revealed in
half concealing. Her husband's friend Richards was there, too, near her. It was he who had been
in the newspaper office when intelligence of the railroad disaster was received, with Brently
Mallard's name leading the list of "killed." He had only taken the time to assure himself of its
truth by a second telegram, and had hastened to forestall any less careful, less tender friend in
bearing the sad message.
She did not hear the story as many women have heard the same, with a paralyzed inability to
accept its significance. She wept at once, with sudden, wild abandonment, in her sister's arms.
When the storm of grief had spent itself she went away to her room alone. She would have no
one follow her.
There stood, facing the open window, a comfortable, roomy armchair. Into this she sank,
pressed down by a physical exhaustion that haunted her body and seemed to reach into her soul.
She could see in the open s
admission. What are
you doing, Louise? For heaven's sake open the door."
"Go away. I am not making myself ill." No; she was drinking in a very elixir of life through
that open window.
Her fancy was running riot along those days ahead of her. Spring days, and summer days,
and all sorts of days that would be her own. She breathed a quick prayer that life might be long.
It was only yesterday she had thought with a shudder that life might be long.
She arose at length and opened the door to her sister's importunities. There was a feverish
triumph in her eyes, and she carried herself unwittingly like a goddess of Victory. She clasped
her sister's waist, and together they descended the stairs. Richards stood waiting for them at the
bottom.
Some one was opening the front door with a latchkey. It was Brently Mallard who entered, a
little travel-stained, composedly carrying his grip-sack and umbrella. He had been far from the
scene of the accident, and did not even know there had been one. He stood amazed at Josephine's
piercing cry; at Richards' quick motion to screen him from the view of his wife.
But Richards was too late.
When the doctors came they said she had died of heart disease—of joy that kills.
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i not understood if understood i will say answer sirry for this
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The Story of an Hour" follows Louise Mallard, the protagonist, as she deals with the news that her husband, Brently Mallard, has died. Louise is informed of her husband's tragic death in a railroad accident by her sister, Josephine. Louise reacts with immediate grief and heads to her room where she gradually comes to the realization that she is happy that her husband has died. Though she bore no animosity towards her husband, the implications of his death include a new sense of freedom for Louise. This realization of possibility is the source of her joy. Later, she heads back downstairs, only to witness Brently coming home. Her joy turns to shock at the sight of her husband and she dies as a result. The doctor in the story diagnoses her death as heart disease, also described as "of the joy that kills" since she died after fantasizing of living a free life.
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