Friday, February 27 vocab quiz and in class writing on "The Story of an Hour"

.
There are still folks, who have yet to make up Monday's test. Even with a legal absence, which several do not have, you have only ten days. Any tests not made up by Wednesday, March 4 will be permanent ZEROS. You may make up the test any period, but your own class.


In class: 
Vocabulary quiz for "The Story of an Hour" 
Graphic organizer applying to infer and imply to the short story "The Story of an Hour"  class handout / copy below
graded assignment- due at the end of class.

 Note: on Monday, you will be writing an in-class essay on the view of marriage presented in the short story. You will have a fresh copy of the story to use.

The Story of an Hour    by  Kate Chopin 

Before you begin, read over carefully the difference between infer and imply!

INFER vs. IMPLY

The best way to remember the difference between these two words is to think in terms of the model used by communications theorists. Communication consists of a message, a sender, and a receiver. The sender can imply, but the receiver can only infer. The error that usually occurs is that the word infer is mistakenly used for imply.

IMPLY = to put the suggestion into the message (sender implies)

INFER = to take the suggestion out of the message (receiver infers)

IMPLICATION = what the sender has implied

INFERENCE = what the receiver has inferred

Let's look at a practical example: Think about the following.

Mom says: Take out the trash.

You say: Ok

This seems like a simple transaction. Mom is the sender, who is implying there is trash to be removed from the house.

You are the receiver, who understands what is expected of you: you will pick up the trash and remove it.

But consider the possible under currents. 

From Mom's perspective, what could she possibly be implying beyond the request to take out the trash? What is she thinking?

From your perspective, what could you possibly be inferring beyond the fact that you are now must take out the trash?

Again- the sender implies and the receiver infers.

With a partner with whom you have never worked- or individually- respond the excerpts from "The Story of an Hour," noting specifically the boldly underlined words. This is due at the close of class. Graded participation grade (40%)

You will find below excerpts from the short story. For each of the underlined sections, write a sentence that explains what is being inferred or implied in terms of the character or plot.  Note that there might be both a literal and metaphorical inference and / or implication.  It is important to be aware of every word. Use these terms specifically.

1.       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.

2.       It was her sister Josephine who told her, in broken sentences; veiled hints that revealed in half concealing.

3.       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.

    

4.       She did not hear the story as many women have heard the same, with a paralyzed inability to accept its significance.

    

5.       She wept at once, with sudden, wild abandonment, in her sister's arms.

6.       There stood, facing the open window, a comfortable, roomy armchair.

7.       Into this she sank, pressed down by a physical exhaustion that haunted her body and seemed to reach into her soul.

8.       She could see in the open square before her house the tops of trees that were all aquiver with the new spring life.

9.       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.

10.   It was not a glance of reflection, but rather indicated a suspension of intelligent thought.

11.   She did not stop to ask if it were or were not a monstrous joy that held her.

12.   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.

13.   There would be no one to live for during those coming years; she would live for herself.

14.   Josephine was kneeling before the closed door with her lips to the keyhold, imploring for admission. "Louise, open the door! I beg; open the door-- you will make yourself ill.

15.   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

Thursday, February 26 "Story of an Hour" finishing close reading graphic organizer

Grip sack

In class: power point review of this week's vocabulary. Quiz tomorrow.
Note that today we are finishing "The Story of an Hour" graphic organizer that we began yesterday.

Wednesday, February 25 "Story of an Hour" by Kate Chopin

Review of graphic organizer from yesterday.


Characterization  1. Mrs. Louise Mallard, young wife, heart disease
                               2. Josephine- Mrs. Mallard's sister
                               3. Ricards- husband's friend
                                4. Brently Mallard- husband, who supposedly died

Point of View- 3rd person limited 

Setting (include time and place)  late 19th century, urban, upper middle class home

Brief plot summary: Mrs. Mallard is informed that her husband has died in a train accident. She initially appears distraught; however, she quickly realizes that she is a "free" woman and is joyful. This is a brief, for in fact, her husband is alive. This knowledge causes her to have a heart attack.

Climax of the story: Brently Mallard's appearance at the door, after everyone thinking he has died.

Themes: confinement, freedom, independence, oppressiveness of marriage

2.. There is another copy of the short story for anyone at home and not having his or her copy.

3.. Looking at the text closely.  Graphic organizer 
class handout / copy below
Directions: Everyone should be familiar to with the story by now. We are going to look very closely at the text today, our goal being to look at individual words and phrases to determine what lies beneath their obvious meaning.
This will give us insight into the characters, plot and theme.

Rather than everyone working on the whole organizer, I am dividing up the class, assigning pairs or individuals, to be responsible for the questions in one paragraph.
Each group will have 10 minutes to write a thorough response to their assigned questions, at which point we will share these with the rest of the class.

Everyone is responsible to have a completed graphic organizer,so listen carefully. I will write the student responses on the board.

vocabulary for week of February 23

“The Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin                       vocabulary   quiz on Friday, February 27

Note that there are 10 words and 2 idioms.

1. laconic- adjective-  person, speech, or style of writing using very few words; brief, concise, terse, succinct, pithy

2.      throng-noun- noun- a large, densely packed crowd of people or animals.

3.      intrepid-adjective- adjective- fearless; adventurous (often used for rhetorical or humorous effect).

4.      to accost-verb- to approach and address (someone) boldly or aggressively.

5.      reticent- adjective- not revealing one's thoughts or feelings readily.

6.      hapless- adjective- (especially of a person) unfortunate.

7.      furtive- adjective-attempting to avoid notice or attention, typically because of guilt or a belief that discovery would

                                        lead to trouble; secretive.

8.      irate- adjective- feeling or characterized by great anger.

9.      plethora- noun- a large or excessive amount of (something).

10.  felonious- adjective- wicked, cruel

Idioms

11.  the sword of Damocles- if you have a sword of Damocles hanging over you/your head, something bad seems very

                                                      likely to happen to you

12. Pyrrhic victory- a victory that is not worth winning because you have suffered so much to achieve it

             

"The Story of An Hour"     by Kate Chopin (1894)

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 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 hte 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 not a 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 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 the 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 keyhold, imploring for admission. "Louise, open the door! I beg; open the door--you will make yourself ill. 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.

Someone 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.

When the doctors came they said she had died of heart disease--of the joy that kills. 

Looking at the story closely. Graphic organizer / class handout / copy below

NAME:	“The Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin Please complete the following. I have bolded particular words within each paragraph that are of significance.
P 1 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.	How might heart trouble be more than a physical ailment? Note that this is the first thing we are told about her and how other people respond to her. Evidently this is--at least for those around her--an important part of who she is.
P2 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.	1.       Why is she tantalizing her with hints? 2.        What does this suggest about how the family views Mrs. M.? 3.       What does this paragraph suggest about Richards' feelings for Mrs. M? 4.        Why is he in such a hurry? Is the code of the "southern gentleman" at work here, or could there be more to his concern than that?
P3 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	1.       Why are we first told how she does NOT hear the news? What does this reaction suggest about her? about how "ladies" were expected to react? 2. What does this passionate response tell us about her? This is our first real clue as to what sort of person she is--aside from her reported state of health.
P4 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.	1.       How are the window and chair descriptions suggestive of longing or desire? What do they imply about her ordinary life? 2.       What does this very dramatic (even melodramatic) statement suggest about her psychological state?
P5 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.	1.       Note the contrast of motion and stillness. Why is the time of year so important? 2.       Delicious ordinarily refers to taste. Who is "tasting" here? 3.       She too has been "crying." What does this detail, as well as the other sensory images, tell you about what she is experiencing?
P6 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.	1.       How does this picture represent symbolically what she sees about her situation?
P7 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.	1.       Why is she compared to a dreaming child?
P8 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.	1.       What does her face tell you about her life? 2.       What sort of emotional state is she in?
P9 Here 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.	3.       In your first reading, what do you guess that "something" might be?
P10 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.	1.       What does this description of her hands suggest? 2.       What is happening to her? Why does she repeat "free? 3.       Note how the sensuality of what she sees has been transferred to her body. Why might she react this way?
P11 She did not stop to ask if it were or were not a 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.	1.       Who would consider this joy "monstrous"? 2.       There seems to be no question whether her husband loved her, is there? What clues are there of HOW he loved her?
P12 There would be no one to live for 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.	1.       What cherished domestic and 19th century myth does Chopin challenge here? 2.       Here Chopin--or is it Mrs. Mallard?-- is making a very general statement about relationships, particularly between men and women. How does it apply to this case?
P13 And yet she had loved him--sometimes. Often she had not. What did it matter! What could love, the unsolved mystery, count for in the 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 keyhold, imploring for admission. "Louise, open the door! I beg; open the door-- you will make yourself ill. What are you doing, Louise? For heaven's sake open the door."	1.       Again, body and soul are connected. How does this anticipate the end? 2.       What does Josephine's plea say about the expectations of those around Louise (now given a name)?
P14 "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.	1.       elixir (from Middle English, a substance of transmutative properties) 1. a sweetened aromatic solution of alcohol and water, used as a vehicle for medicine. 2. a medicine regarded as a cure for all ills. 3. the philosophers' stone. 4. the quintessence or underlying principle. How do these different definitions shed light on her revelation? 2.       Just what is coming through an "open window"? 3.       What has she conquered that would make her seem victorious?
P15 Someone 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 the joy that kills.	1.       Why is he stained by travel if he was not on the train? 2.       It is a "grip-sack," not a "briefcase" or "suitcase"; what does this word suggest ?

vocabulary for "The Story of an Hour"     class handout on Tuesday; 

Tuesday, February 24 "The Story of an Hour" by Kate Chopin

NOTE: IF YOU WERE ABSENT, YOU WILL NEED TO MAKE-UP THE FINAL ASSESSMENT ON ETHAN FROME THAT WAS GIVEN IN CLASS.

In class: we are reading Kate Chopin 's short story "The Story of an Hour" 

This is a short text with great substance.

1. Read the story silently. (class handout / copy below)

2. We will read the story a second time as a class.

3. Literary Elements applied to the short story. See graphic organizer. Class handout / copy below    Due at the close of class.

    characters

    point of view

    setting: time, place

    plot / climax

    tone: select text

    theme (s)

4. While you are reading silently the first time, I will pass out this week's vocabulary.  There is a list below. I'll review the words tomorrow, but I suggest you start reviewing them for Friday's quiz.

"The Story of An Hour"     by Kate Chopin (1894)

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 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 hte 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 not a 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 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 the 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 keyhold, imploring for admission. "Louise, open the door! I beg; open the door--you will make yourself ill. 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.

Someone 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.

When the doctors came they said she had died of heart disease--of the joy that kills. 

Name ______________________________                               Tuesday, February 20  classwork / Parker

Literary elements applied to Kate Chopin’s “The Story of an Hour.”

Literary element
Characterization (list all and their function / relationships	1. 2. 3. 4.
Point of view
Setting (include both time and place)
Brief plot summary
What was the climax of the story?
Theme (s)

    

Vocabulary for "The Story of an Hour"

“The Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin                       vocabulary   quiz on Friday, February 27

Note that there are 10 words and 2 idioms.

1. laconic- adjective-  person, speech, or style of writing using very few words; brief, concise, terse, succinct, pithy

2.      throng-noun- noun- a large, densely packed crowd of people or animals.

3.      intrepid-adjective- adjective- fearless; adventurous (often used for rhetorical or humorous effect).

4.      to accost-verb- to approach and address (someone) boldly or aggressively.

5.      reticent- adjective- not revealing one's thoughts or feelings readily.

6.      hapless- adjective- (especially of a person) unfortunate.

7.      furtive- adjective-attempting to avoid notice or attention, typically because of guilt or a belief that discovery would

                                        lead to trouble; secretive.

8.      irate- adjective- feeling or characterized by great anger.

9.      plethora- noun- a large or excessive amount of (something).

10.  felonious- adjective- wicked, cruel

Idioms

11.  the sword of Damocles- if you have a sword of Damocles hanging over you/your head, something bad seems very

                                                      likely to happen to you

12. Pyrrhic victory- a victory that is not worth winning because you have suffered so much to achieve it