Val Muller

This is one of my favorite (long) short stories to teach in high school. Though my Monday book reviews normally focus on full-length books, this short story is a great work to study as a horror writer. Gilman wrote the story as a result of her own mental breakdown. It was written in the late 1800’s when things like depression and postpartum depression were not understood. A popular cure was known as “the rest cure.” Women were given a strict schedule, mostly consisting of rest away from family and familiar surroundings, but also containing a detailed schedule of food and drink, rest, mild activities. Even the women’s sexual activities were sometimes scheduled and enforced.

Gilman wrote this story to show the world that “the rest cure” was actually doing more damage than good. In the story, a woman slowly loses her mind while forced to spend three months in a house that her husband (a doctor) rented to allow her sufficient rest to overcome her mental ailments. During her time in the house, the woman is denied visits to family, mental or physical stimulation, and the freedom to discuss her feelings.

The most spooky, captivating, and awesome element of the story is its first-person point of view. The narrator is writing the account in her journal, something she must do only when no one else is around. Her journal begins with descriptions of mundane trivialities, but it becomes increasingly more disturbing. The narrator is locked in the nursery on the top floor of the house. The room’s most distinguishing feature is its yellow wallpaper, which features a dizzyingly-horrendous pattern. In the wallpaper, the narrator begins to see manifestations of her own self—a woman trapped and trying to get out.

From a writer’s point of view, Gilman’s use of first-person point of view can be used to study the building of suspense. Gilman provided just enough details for us to put together the pieces of the narrator’s growing madness (and its causes) without over-explaining and thus ruining the suspense. Gilman packs this short story with content, and I suggest reading it more than once—after learning the ending, you’ll pick up more and more details each time.

A final interesting note: Gilman admitted to writing the story for the purpose of informing the world of the dangers of “the rest cure.” In her day, she received evidence that she had saved at least one woman’s life as a result of the story, and at least one doctor modified his treatment after reading her story. It just goes to show the power of words, and the reason I continue to write.

As the last few weeks of school are winding down, I thought I would review some of the books I teach or have taught. In high school I read (or attempted to read) Thomas Hardy’s Jude the Obscure, and I swore off Thomas Hardy forever. But then life happened, and I found myself teaching Tess of the D’Urbervilles and loving it. So I thought I’d share some of my enthusiasm here. The novel has been dubbed Hardy’s most accessible, and it’s free on Kindle, so feel free to give it a try.

The novel follows a young woman named Tess who tries simultaneously to compensate for her parents’ irresponsibility, forge her own way in life, and fight a series of events that suggests she was born under an unlucky star while all the while living in a society whose rules seem to contradict the natural laws of nature.

First of all, to understand the novel you must understand that it was written during the Victorian Era when society had a hypocritical enthusiasm for ensuring the purity of women while ignoring the purity of men. Hardy was also using the novel to examine his views on formal religion versus general moral beliefs as well as to examine his idea of tragedy, which comes from “the worthy encompassed by the inevitable.” For example, Hardy wrote a poem about the Titanic in which Fate prepares a “sinister mate” for the Titanic in the form of an iceberg.

The second thing to understand is that because he was writing during Victorian times, he had to confine his writing to certain (prudish) standards. For example, in the original text, there is a scene in which a man carries four dairymaids across a flooded river. This was a bit too scandalous for certain publications, and for one of his editions, Hardy was forced to rewrite the scene so that the man used a wheelbarrow to ferry the maidens across (rather than the scandalous act of actually touching four separate unmarried women!). As a result, Hardy’s language is often metaphorical, sometimes in intriguing ways.

For example, there is a scene written about a strawberry. And yes, it’s just about a strawberry. But the undercurrent of the scene could make even a modern-day reader uncomfortable. The scene establishes the alluring yet pushy nature of Alec and foreshadows the rape scene, which causes Tess’s life to spiral down in tragedy. The scene is from Chapter Five:

Tess wished to abridge her visit as much as possible; but the young man was pressing, and she consented to accompany him.  He conducted her about the lawns, and flower-beds, and conservatories; and thence to the fruit-garden and greenhouses, where he asked her if she liked strawberries.

“Yes,” said Tess, “when they come.”

“They are already here.”  D’Urberville began gathering specimens of the fruit for her, handing them back to her as he stooped; and, presently, selecting a specially fine product of the “British Queen” variety, he stood up and held it by the stem to her mouth.

“No–no!” she said quickly, putting her fingers between his hand and her lips.  “I would rather take it in my own hand.”

“Nonsense!” he insisted; and in a slight distress she parted her lips and took it in.

They had spent some time wandering desultorily thus, Tess eating in a half-pleased, half-reluctant state whatever d’Urberville offered her.  When she could consume no more of the strawberries he filled her little basket with them; and then the two passed round to the rose-trees, whence he gathered blossoms and gave her to put in her bosom. She obeyed like one in a dream, and when she could affix no more he himself tucked a bud or two into her hat, and heaped her basket with others in the prodigality of his bounty.

What I love about the novel is Hardy’s elegant prose. His word choice is elegant yet not over-the-top, and reading his work will definitely help with SAT scores! Hardy’s sophisticated vocabulary means he can choose the exactly appropriate word for each situation. His imagery is often symbolic or suggestive, and his use of point-of-view allows him to include humor in the overall tragic work. For example, Tess’s parents are portrayed as often-drunk, childish, country bumpkins (of the Victorian British variety), allowing comic relief to break up Tess’s misery.

My favorite point-of-view shift comes toward the end of the novel in which Hardy describes a murder scene. Instead of bringing us intimately into the murder chamber itself, he shifts into the point-of-view of a woman watching a red spot on the ceiling above her become increasingly larger. It isn’t until the woman more closely examines the spot that the reader realizes the spot is blood, and a murder has taken place in the room upstairs.

I won’t go into depth in the plot here—you can go to any number of sites for a summary—but I will recommend the book for its prose, its criticism of Hardy’s society (the questions he asks are still relevant today—is there a double-standard in the way we view men and woman? –is someone with moral beliefs just as admirable as someone who follows the rules of a given religion?), and its foray into the idea of a more modern tragedy than the Oedipus of old.

Shattering Glass is a YA book following the transformation of Simon Glass, an unpopular, fat, clumsy student. When a new kid named Rob comes to the school, he decides to make it his big project to turn Glass into someone popular. Rob’s plan works more than well, and soon Glass displays an independent (and dark) streak that wasn’t part of Rob’s plan. I won’t give away the ending, but it gets dark in a creepy way!

My overall assessment: A great book for high school students and reluctant readers, especially teenage boys.

Negatives first: This is a YA book, so it didn’t have all the twists and turns and nuances of a fully-developed adult novel. It took me a while to “get” the main character. At first the protagonist’s voice sounded generic (I didn’t realize right away that the protag was a boy!) It wasn’t until I learned a detail about his past that his voice really started standing out. Then, he became real to me. Still, I teach high school, and I could see lots of my students enjoying this book. The plot was not cliche (oh, definitely not!), but it was easy enough to follow.

Now, the positives: It was a compelling read. What I enjoyed most the structure of the novel. Each chapter begins with a quote from various minor characters in the novel. These quotes allude to the novel’s ending, so at first they don’t make a lot of sense except to add some creepy foreshadowing. As the chapters progress, the reader puts together clues from these opening quotes to infer how the novel will end–and it’s a grim ending. Because of this extensive foreshadowing, the novel takes on a dark aura, and the reader is compelled to turn the pages. The chapters are short, and each opening quote gives readers just enough clues to convince them to keep reading. I finished the book in two sittings. I will definitely recommend the book to my high school students.

From a writer’s point of view, the book is a great lesson in pacing and point of view. Giles did a great job in choosing which details to include and when to include them. The result is a dark, suspenseful page-turner. If you want insight into the darker side of high school, this book is worth your time.