Kindlin – dry twigs, pieces of paper, etc., that burn easily and are used to start a fire.
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/kindling
Used in “Beloved” on page 57, top of the page, first paragraph.
Rainwater held on to pine needles for dear life and Beloved could not take her eyes off Sethe. Stopping to shake the damper, or snapping sticks for kindlin, Sethe was licked, tasted eaten by Beloved’s eyes.
It was meant to describe sticks to make fire, or something that would easily burn.
Breakneck – : very fast : dangerously fast
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/breakneck
Used in Beloved on page 52, the top of the page and the begging of the first paragraph.
Four days she slept, waking and sitting up only for water. Denver tended her, watched her sound sleep, listened to her labored breathing, and out of love and a breakneck possessiveness that charged her, hid like a personal blemish Beloved’s incontinence.
I think that this word describes how quickly Denver felt passive and drawn to Beloved, almost like a immediate obsessiveness that she felt towards her.
Noisome – a : offensive to the senses and especially to the sense of smell <noisome garbage>
b : highly obnoxious or objectionable <noisome habits
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/noisome
Used in “Beloved” on page 28, 2nd paragraph, at the bottom of the page.
Quiet, primate and completely secret except for the noisome cologne signal that thrilled the rabbits before it confused them.
I think that she was describing the perfume of her playroom and the unpleasant spelled it held but on that she attributed to the room. I found this sentence a bit confusing and how the word was to be applied.
As I was looking for an image to depict my passage from Beloved, I was listening to one of my favorite artists, Fiona Apple. Her song “Sullen Girl” came on. The song depicts when the artist was raped and in an interview in Rolling Stone she talks about how it affected her, and how she wrote the song expressing how she felt during that time. I thought that this song in particular would be a good piece to use to convey how Sethe must have felt when those boys stole her milk and how she carried that pain with her. ”
But he washed me shore
And he took my pearl
And left an empty
Shell of me
And there’s too
Much going on
But it’s calm under the waves
In the blue of my oblivion
Under the waves
In the blue of my oblivion
Under the waves
In the blue of my oblivion
It’s calm under the waves
In the blue of my oblivion
Fiona lyrics go on to talk about this man that stole her pearl, just as those men stole Sethe’s milk. When she talks about being calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion. I though how the lyrics may have depicted how Sethe felt when she discovered that Halle had seen what had happened to her in the barn.
“After I left you, those boys came in there and took my milk. That’s what they came in there for. She had that lump and couldn’t speak but her eyes rolled out tears. But whatever he saw go on in that barn that day broke him like a twig. I don’t want to know or have to remember that. I have other things to do: worry , for example, about tomorrow , about Denver, about Beloved , about age and sickness not to speak of love.”
It almost seems that she can’t let that information change what she has to do, or has been doing. That she is lost in the oblivion of her pain ,and that anymore information were deter her from moving forward.
I think that the song really expressed pain of a traumatic experience, and how both the women seemed to cope in a similar ways.
Throughout Beloved we see many instances in which the story could have changed, had certain scenarios not taken place. The scene that I felt to be a crucial point in the story is when Sethe got her milk taken from her. This specific moment changed her journey, and also, changed the course of life for many of the other main characters.
We first learn about Sethe’s milk being stolen somewhere in the beginning of the book. She reveals this moment to Paul D, also a former slave of Sweet Home, who comes to find her at 124. When Paul D arrives to her house at 124, she is living with her daughter Denver. Besides Sethe and Denver residing in the house, so does the ghost of her dead child who is referred to as Beloved, which was the name that was marked on her gravestone. Paul D’s arrival signals the first shift in the story, as Sethe is happy to see him, and gains comfort from his presence. He is also reminded of the longing that he had harbored for her back at Sweet Home.
Sethe invites him to stay for dinner, and the night, even at the annoyance of her daughter, Denver, who is very much accustomed to having Sethe all to herself. Sethe reveals to Paul D that she will not leave 124 because she is tired of running, and then she proceeds on telling him about her milk being stolen. She also tells him her milk being stolen.
“After I left you, those boys came in there and took my milk. That’s what they came in there for. Held me down and took it. I told Mrs. Garner on em. She had that lump and couldn’t speak but her eyes rolled out tears. Them boys found out I told on em. School teacher made one open up my back, and when it closed it made a tree. It grows there still.” (Morrison, 16)
This is a big revelation in the book on two accounts: the first being that we learned that she had a really traumatic experience that ties into her escape from Sweet Home, and also what happens to Halle. The second being that in telling this to Paul D, she allows herself to mourn and revisit a painful experience. She is also able to share her pain with someone who knows what means to suffer as she has.
Paul D comforts her physically after she tells the story by coming up behind her and carrying her breasts. Symbolically, that may show that he was trying to carry her burden for her in that moment. The intimacy between Paul D and Sethe not only makes Denver feel unsettled and worried, but also, upsets the ghost of Sethe’s baby girl who begins to show her anger by shaking the floor boards in the house and hurtling furniture at Paul D, which then leads them to fight, and he chases the spirit out of the house.
” God damn it! Hush up!” Paul D was shouting, falling, reaching for anchor, “Leave the place alone! Get the hell out!” A table rushed toward him and he grabbed its leg. Somehow he managed to stand at an angle and, holding the table by two legs, he bashed it about, wrecking everything , screaming back at the screaming house. “You want to fight, come on! God damn it! She got enough without you. She got enough!” (Morrison, 19)
In that moment the ghost leaves, and Paul D decides to remain at 124.
Paul D later tells Sethe that her husband, Halle, had witnessed her milk being stolen and that witnessing that atrocity had sent him over the edge, and that he lost his mind.
“The day I came in here. You said they stole your milk. I never knew what it was that messed him up. That was it, I guess. All I knew was that something broke him. Not a one of them years of Saturdays, Sundays, and nightime extra never touched him . But whatever he saw go on in that barn that day broke him like a twig.” (Morrison, 68)
This moment is an essential turning point in the book because we can see that with this revelation, many others things might not have come to be. Either this could have been her relationship with Paul D, how sensitive and lonely Denver is, how Baby Suggs died, why Halle didn’t try and stop the boys from taking her milk and prevent her from suffering that painful moment, but most significantly, would she have murdered her own baby had Halle been there to prevent her from taking such a painful and desperate decision. Sethe takes this revelation and puts it away with the rest of the pain that she harbors in her mind and heart.
“There is also my husband squatting by the churn smearing the butter as well as its clabber all over his face because the milk they took is on his mind [. . . ] I don’t want to know or have to remember that. I have other things to do: worry , for example, about tomorrow , about Denver, about Beloved , about age and sickness not to speak of love. (Morrison, 70)
In this moment there is a great deal of reveal for Sethe. In a way she realizes that Halle didn’t just abandon her and the children, but that what he saw broke him, and that if that alone broke him then he wouldn’t have possibly survived the rest of what happened, and also, she doesn’t have to wonder what happened to him any longer as she assumes that he must be dead. This bit of knowledge can bring her some closure. She realizes that she never had a choice to give into the pain and anguish of it all, but instead, she had to continue because of her children, and that life had to go on.
We can take this particular scene in the book and think of how it intermingles with so many other parts. Had Sethe’s milk not been stolen, Halle would not have seen and gone crazy, at least not in that particular moment. They would have left Sweet Home together and Denver, who might have been named something else, would maybe not have come prematurely or would have been delivered by her husband instead of Amy Denver.
The most important fact that might have changed was the death of Sethe’s daughter. Would Halle let her do such a thing? School teacher came to reclaim her and bring her back, but rather than have her children endure any pain and suffering of becoming a slave, she killed her baby. When Beloved returns, she ends up wanting all of Sethe’s attention and does all she can to alienate Paul D and Denver from her. Sethe’s quest to make Beloved happy almost ends her completely, but Sethe is able to recover again with love and a new beginning with Paul D.
The pivotal scene that I chose could have very well changed the whole course of the book, and maybe in turn Sethe’s choices would have been very different along with everyone else’s path as well. If Paul D would have come to 124, Halle could have been there with his wife and they would not have begun a romantic relationship, Denver might have grown into a different woman with her brothers and sister present and Beloved would have lived. Sethe would have moved on with her life and had her family, and could have found peace much sooner.
One scene that I found quite powerful was when Paul D tells Sethe that Halle saw the men steal her milk. She comes to realize so many things in one moment. Not only was she angry because Halle didn’t do anything to help save her, but she also learns that he went crazy, and that watching that scene unfold broke him and that’s why he didn’t join her in their planned escaped. If he hadn’t seen that maybe things would have turned out differently. After she finds out she sits with her newfound realization and is angry because her mind allows her to harbor another painful memory when she has had her fill of pain and suffering. She also realizes that she didn’t have the choice that Halle had to go crazy, even though she thinks to herself what a nice option that would have been to just let go and not carry on. She realizes that she never had that choice because her children were waiting for her and that she had to go on.
“Other people went crazy, why couldn’t she? Other people’s brains stopped , turned around and went on to something new, which is what must have happened to Halle. And how sweet that would have been: the two of them back by the milk shed, squatting by the churn, smashing cold, lumpy butter into their faces with not care in the world. Feeling it slippery, sticky – rubbing it in their hair, watching it squeeze through their fingers. What a relief to stop right there. Close. Shut. Squeeze the butter. But her three children were chewing sugar teat under a blanket on their way to Ohio and no butter play would change that.”
In this quote she is clearly saying that it would have been just as easy or better to have given into weakness. She to could have given up and let go, but she knew that her children would in turn suffer and that giving up was not an option for her.
I think this passage is reflective go how much Sethe has endured. How she feels like she has been left by those that she loves. Halle, Baby Suggs, her mother and even in some way Beloved, because though she killed her, she still laments her loss. She is filled with painful memories, and this revelation is another to add. She keeps going forward even though she is filled to the brim with pain, her love for her children keeps her going. Her will to live, whether she recognizes it, is stronger than her pain.
Although the original narrator’s is told in first person autodiegetic from Jane’s perspective; the retelling gives a different vantage point being told by John in the first person autodiegetic narrative form.
“The Yellow Wallpaper” showed the reader the unraveling of a woman and how she perceived her situation. Throughout her narration we get a sense that she realizes that what she is feeling may be something deeper and much more substantial than what her husband John is leading her to believe about her condition. She wrestles with her current state of anxiety and depression because she has been told by John who is a doctor that it is nothing more than exhaustion. He brings her to house that he promises will be her sanctuary so that she may gain repose and get back to her old self. She has been anxious and feeling melancholy since the birth of their son and does her best to be pleasant, and tries to do as John bids her to do: rest, light exercise, eat well, and sleep. He ignores the fixation that she begins to develop with the wallpaper in the house and does his best to convince her to grab hold of her anxieties, and preoccupy herself with her recovery and rest. He issues a few warnings, though subtle, that if she does not improve that he will take more drastic measures and send her to the repudiated doctor that has handled other women with her similar condition.
“He said we came here solely on my account, that I was to have perfect rest and all the air I could get. “Your exercise depends on your strength, my dear,” said he, “and your food somewhat on your appetite; but air you can absorb all the time.”
“But John says if I feel so, I shall neglect proper self control; so I take pains to control myself – before him, at least, and that makes me very tired.”
It seems that in her quest to please and heed his word that she ignores the bubbling anxieties she feels.
It’s also interesting to see her fear of what may happen if she is honest about how she is feeling.
“Better in body perhaps – I began, and I stopped short, for he sat up straight and looked at me with such a stern, reproachful look that I could not say another word.”
The fact that she took care to keep her creeping hysteria from John shows how there was a lack of trust in their marriage. She should not been able to confide in her husband that what she felt was more than exhaustion?
“The Yellow Wallpaper” told from John’s perspective gives us his interpretation of Jane’s behavior. He married his beautiful Jane, and as a man of prestige due to his occupation as a doctor, had hoped to have the perfect picture of domesticity. He does his best as a husband to show Jane love, care and patience, but encourages her to help herself. I correlate the details in my retelling by showcasing his bewilderment and slight exasperation at the fact that she is taking longer to recover than expected, and that she must in turn push herself to take care to his recommendations, for not only is he her husband, but a doctor as well.
“She should be focusing her thoughts on resting and doing light exercise, but absolutely no writing. I feel that it adds to her whims of her strange caprice. For heaven’s sake, I am a doctor and know how to handle her over exhaustion and need for bit of tranquility. I feel that I have done a fine job at picking the perfect sanctuary. Doesn’t she realize that I know best?”
What I try to convey in John’s version is not only the frustration that he feels at Jane’s whims, but also how he tries to convince himself that there is nothing truly disturbing about her behavior.
“If she doesn’t recover soon, she must go to Weir Mitchell for extensive treatment for her exhaustion and nervousness. The look of horror that overshadowed her face at the mere suggestion broke my heart even further, but at the same time gave me hope! Jane’s insistence that she did not require such treatment made me realize that she is slowly returning to her sound mind, for surely if she were truly on the verge of hysteria she would not protest with such conviction.”
This was the turning point in the retelling in which we start to see that it’s not that John is so domineering, but more so that he doesn’t want to see what is right before him, and that Jane’s condition may be worse than he wants to let himself believe. We get to see that both Jane and John were both suffering from not being able to face difficulties about their spouses, and that distrust and fear on both their parts led to Jane’s unraveling.
I chose this”The Yellow Wallpaper” in particular because I felt that in relationships, someone may seem like the one who is at fault in certain situations ,and that it’s so important to get both sides of story. A person’s interpretation of a situation and why they may be behaving so is what causes most disconnection between people, and I think that with both stories we are able to see that within the complexity of this couple.
On this peaceful morning, I look out at the grounds of the cottage that I hope will be the sanctuary that not only Jane will benefit from, but where I will be able to recover the woman I married. “My beautiful, charismatic Jane.” Since the birth of our son, Jane has slowly slipped into a diluted version of her once graceful and grounded being. Her warmth and charm have been replaced with a simmering melancholia, combined with small outbursts of nervousness and weepiness. Surely, this temporary condition would pass with some rest, both physically and mentally, for Jane had an active imagination. It was one of the many facets of her personality that had besotted me from the very beginning. The warm air and atmosphere will surely revitalize her strength, and snap her out of this temporary whim of emotions.
Since we have been here, it seems that rest is not on Jane’s agenda since she seems to have developed a preoccupation with the wallpaper. Lately, every time I look over at her, I see her looking quizzically at the walls. She has becomes fixated on the paper. She is jumpy and skittish, but she does her best to deflect any uncertainty in her quiet demeanor. Like a sweet child, she scoffs and pouts about the state of the house. I do my best to not indulge her whims, and reassure her that she is merely looking for distractions. She should be focusing her thoughts on resting and doing light exercise, but absolutely no writing. I feel that it adds to her whims of her strange caprice. For heaven’s sake, I am a doctor and know how to handle her over exhaustion and need for bit of tranquility. I feel that I have done a fine job at picking the perfect sanctuary. Doesn’t she realize that I know best?
She insists on being social and having more stimulus, but that would just make matters worse and prolong her state.
In fact, a few nights past, she mentioned that she felt something, that there was a strange presence that made her feel unsettled. As she said this, I noticed that she was standing by the window. I laugh at her girlish silliness and walk over, “My darling girl, the window is open and you feel a draught, not the presence of ghosts or goblins”. I kiss her cheek and close the window.
Instead of laughing with me, she looks agitated, scoffs and leaves the room. I don’t remember during our courtship when she ever displayed anything close to this unattractive and impatient behavior, but I must do my best as a doctor, and husband, to remember that this is all do to with the fact that she needs rest, and surely her mind and disposition will recover to give me back my sweet Jane.
I am careful to remind her that we have come here for her repose, and that she must be careful to follow my instructions. She smiles meekly when I remind her to have perfect rest and take as much air as she can get. I can see how much she is trying, but she needs to give herself that extra push. I fear that is she doesn’t, she will never be able to enjoy the full benefits of being both wife and mother.
Part of me begins to resent the unnatural order of our current situation. I find plenty of love and empathy for my beautiful Jane, but this unexpected burden weighs on me at times. I had envisioned, quiet, pleasant evenings at home. An actual home where I did not have to think and fret, but that I would be able to enjoy the advantages of domesticity. Instead, I find myself being both husband and wife. Not even our sweet cherub is enough to incline her to take hold of her natural vocation.
But instead of working towards recovering her strength she focuses on the wallpaper in the house. Her fixation on this paper is somewhat perplexing. I agree that it isn’t the most attractive of patterns and hues, but we are only her for a short while, and for her much needed repose. I wish that she would engage in meaningful conversation about the future and our son instead of worrying about something so silly and inconsequential. I give myself over to my work and take care not to lose myself to whims as Jane has, for what would become of us! My work is my one salvation and tranquility at the moment. As much as I try not to, I take on more work because it has become my only peace. I feel guilty to harbor these feelings and remember to whisper sweet words and show her much kindness.
If she doesn’t recover soon, she must go to Weir Mitchell for extensive treatment for her exhaustion and nervousness. The look of horror that overshadowed her face at the mere suggestion broke my heart even further, but at the same time gave me hope! Jane’s insistence that she did not require such treatment made me realize that she is slowly returning to her sound mind, for surely if she were truly on the verge of hysteria she would not protest with such conviction.
I take care to reassure her of my love , and give her encouragement to fight against her whims. She must use more self control to drive away this fretfulness that surrounds her at times. Whenever her impulses start to get the best of her, I must act firm and remind her that she must now begin to come out of this stupor of exhaustion and begin to resume life as we knew it. At times I wonder if my coddling has done more harm than good, and if she is taking extra time to recover because she has become accustomed to living a lofty existence. If this is her fear; I wish that she would not worry. Surely there will still be times that I will still indulge my silly goose.
But no sooner than I start to think that she may be coming around, her queerness over the paper begins to take a concerning turn. I see a shift in her demeanor. I begin to study her more and more. She begins to look gaunt and tired , as is clear by the dark circles under her eyes and the pallor of her skin. Even at the sight of this, I must continue to work, and maybe with some distance from me she will begin to see that this ridiculousness is starting to drive a wedge between us. I decide not to make the journey home after visiting my patient and stay overnight. A night apart might be just the trick to knock her out of her stupor and make her realize that it is time for both of us to take our rightful places.
Upon my return, I feel optimistic and begin to think that this remedy might do the trick. Surely, Jane has realized the severity of the situation and have come to her senses. As I walk in, I do not see anyone. Could it be that she is with the baby? Could her maternal instincts have finally taken its natural hold over her, and she is finally ready to take part in our family? I could feel the excitement and relief bubbling inside me. I check the nursery, and alas, no one is there. As I proceed to go downstairs I hear something coming from our bedroom. A loud ripping sound, and grunting. It sounds like Jane. I go to open the door, but it is locked. “Jane darling, open the door”, my heart starts to pound in my chest. She tells me to go and get the key from under the plaintain leaf downstairs in a voice that attempts to sound calm, but I hear the pitch of hysteria that she tries to hide. I start pounding on the door and demand that she open. “Open this door, what the hell is going on in there!” I hear her giggle and I run downstairs. I frantically retrieve the key, and dash back up, and finally manage to open the door. The sight before me frightens, and tears down all the hope and love in my heart in an instant. I realize as a I look into our room and see Jane appear more like a deranged animal, with wild hair and eyes, and the wallpaper torn down from the walls. She is screaming almost incoherently. “I’ve got out at last”, In spit of you and Jane. And I’ve pulled off most of the paper, so you can’t put me back!”In that moment I realize every lie that I told myself, I remember each time that I turned my cheek to her oddities that were telling of something darker and deeper, but I did it because I loved her so! “Am I the one who let my beautiful Jane vanish into this wretched soul I see before me?” As I go to carefully approach her, I feel my weight unsteady, and my vision blurry. I realize what is happening and as my thoughts and coherence is leaving me, my last thoughts are, “What have I done to my beautiful Jane?”
I found the story to be really captivating. I first came upon this title because I’m doing a research paper on the history of childbirth, mainly focusing on the 18th and 19th century. I’m doing a chapter on postpartum depression, and came upon this story while doing some research.
Post partum depression wasn’t really diagnosed in that time ,as it is now. While reading this story I felt frustrated, and a bit sad to know that a perfectly common occurrence after birth was looked upon as a woman being tired or with slight hysteria. The remedy ranged from tepid baths to rest.
I think that in that time, society had such strict roles for all. Women especially, were to be the embodiment of poise and femininity. She was expected to marry and have children and to carry out her role in perfection.
The notion that she was not able to be fragile or come undone is claustrophobic and horrible within itself. It seems that her husband didn’t give her the chance to truly talk about what she was feeling and instead decided to take matter into his own hands by treating her like a chid and suggesting that she rest and think of pleasant things. She felt overwhelmed and frustrated.
“I get unreasonably angry with John sometimes. I’m sure I never used to be so sensitive.”
“But John says if I feel so, I shall neglect proper self control; so I take pains to control myself – before him, at least, and that makes me very tired.
The fact that she states that it took great pain to control herself, but that she did and most likely in front of him goes to show how little men or society could deal with any type of hysteria from a woman. I could see how she must have felt so exhausted from battling this depression, and most especially exhausted from hiding it from her husband.
I couldn’t imagine being in a time in which I wouldn’t be able to speak my mind or discomforts to those around me. How suffocating and sad that would be. It would be enough to drive anyone crazy.
Furtive – done in a quiet and secret way to avoid being noticed.
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/furtive
Used In “The Cottagette” on page 47, the fifth paragraph.
“Not a two minutes walk”, he assured her, and showed us a little furtive path between the trees to the place where meals were furnished.”
The word is meant to describe a secretive and quick path to a place near the cottagette to get their meals.
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