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Though an introvert and recluse, Dickinson had a profound understanding of the human condition, and was able to write with a knowledge that one would not expect from a woman who later in life refused to leave her room. Today, she is known as one of the greatest poets in history with a corpus of nearly 1, poems. In this Pulitzer Prize- and National Book Award for Fiction-winner, Walker paints the horrifying yet realistic account of a young black woman named Celie who faces disturbing abuse — both physical, mental, and incestuous — at the hands of the men in her life.

From the same Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright who wrote "Death of a Salesman," " The Crucible " is another of Arthur Miller's plays about the Salem witch trials of the 17th century. It hit the stage in , and was thought to be an attack on Senator Joseph McCarthy for his anti-Communist fervor and "witch hunts" of Communists in s America. And though not entirely accurate, the play remains a timeless story of how intolerance and hysteria can tear a community apart. Guy Montag is a fireman whose job is to burn printed books as well as the houses where they're hidden.

But when his wife commits suicide and a young neighbor who introduced him to reading disappears, Guy begins hoarding books in his own home. From the "Tell-Tale Heart" to the Sherlock Holmes-esque "The Murders in the Rue Morgue," Poe is a master at building to a story's climax with palpable emotions — terror, love, sadness — that feel undeniably real to readers. The story follows a family of poor tenant farmers as they're driven away from their Oklahoma home, and journey through the Dust Bowl toward California.

But all of their hopes for redemption are slowly wiped out as they battle hunger, lack of employment, and death. Edith Wharton's " The House of Mirth " tells the story of class hierarchies in America through Lily Bart, a woman who sabotages all her possible opportunities for a wealthy marriage in the hopes of marrying for love, but refuses to marry for love because she is unable to give up her love of money.

Through a series of rumors and gossip, Lily slowly loses the esteem of her social circle, until she dies poor and alone. It was a stark illustration of the Gilded Age Wharton knew so well, and it remains profoundly tragic. New York's 19th century industrial workers lived in squalid, cramped tenement buildings. So journalist Jacob A.


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Riis made it his mission to show the American upper- and middle-class the dangerous conditions the poor faced every day with graphic descriptions, sketches, statistics, and his photographs. Not only did " How the Other Half Lives " inspire tangible change to the Lower East Side's schools, sweatshops and buildings, but it was also the basis for future "muckraking" journalism. The memoir follows Angelou during her youth as she survives soul-crushing racism, a brutal sexual assault, and finally her hard-won independence as she becomes a young woman.

The Awakening of Sarah

Her poetic prose continues to influence and inspire generations today. How luxurious it felt to rest thus in a strange, quaint bed, with its sweet country odor of laurel lingering about the sheets and mattress! But with more feeling and discernment he would have recognized the noble beauty of its modeling , and the graceful severity of poise and movement, which made Edna Pontellier different from the crowd. There are no words to describe her save the old ones that have served so often to picture the bygone heroine of romance and the fair lady of our dreams. Pontellier to cut out -- a marvel of construction, fashioned to enclose a baby's body so effectually that only two small eyes might look out from the garment, like an Eskimo's.

Seminar For The Awakening Essay - Words - BrightKite

It was easy to know them, fluttering about with extended, protecting wings when any harm, real or imaginary, threatened their precious brood. Edna began to feel like one who awakens gradually out of a dream, a delicious, grotesque , impossible dream, to feel again the realities pressing into her soul.

Several persons were talking at once, and Victor's voice was predominating , even over that of his mother. She thought of Madame Ratignolle, but knew that her fair friend did not leave the house, except to take a languid walk around the block with her husband after nightfall. Madame Lebrun was bustling in and out, giving orders in a high key to a yard-boy whenever she got inside the house, and directions in an equally high voice to a dining- room servant whenever she got outside. There was a friend who played upon the ' cello. The moon was coming up, and its mystic shimmer was casting a million lights across the distant, restless water.

Pontellier left him to enter her room, the young man descended the steps and strolled over toward the croquet players, where, during the half-hour before dinner, he amused himself with the little Pontellier children, who were very fond of him. Finally she gathered together a few of the sketches -- those which she considered the least discreditable ; and she carried them with her when, a little later, she dressed and left the house. As she gave a dainty scrap or two to the doggie , she talked intimately to him about Etienne and Raoul.

From his trousers pockets he took a fistful of crumpled bank notes and a good deal of silver coin, which he piled on the bureau indiscriminately with keys, knife, handkerchief , and whatever else happened to be in his pockets. Madame Ratignolle removed her veil, wiped her face with a rather delicate handkerchief, and fanned herself with the fan which she always carried suspended somewhere about her person by a long, narrow ribbon.

It is something to squander and throw to the four winds, for the fun of seeing the golden specks fly. She answered in as light and bantering a spirit as she fancied it deserved, and said she would be glad to have him look in upon her at work whenever he felt the inclination and his business gave him the opportunity. He resented the intrusion of the children, who gaped with wondering eyes at him, sitting so stiff up there in their mother's bright atelier. Will you get my white shawl which I left on the window-sill over at the house? They were for the most part dingy , but as they were nearly always open it did not make so much difference.

The Awakening by Kate Chopin - Literature Summary and Review

It was not despair; but it seemed to her as if life were passing by, leaving its promise broken and unfulfilled. As she passed along the gallery she patted Edna upon the shoulder. She could see the glint of the moon upon the bay, and could feel the soft, gusty beating of the hot south wind.

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Edna tried to appease her friend, to explain. She was overcome with sleep , and answered him with little half utterances. And she's more of a musician than you are a painter. Pontellier comes? The lady in black, creeping behind them, looked a trifle paler and more jaded than usual. He him self had his hands full with his brokerage business. She did not linger to discuss class distinctions with Madame Pouponne, but hastened to a neighboring grocery store , feeling sure that Mademoiselle would have left her address with the proprietor.

Another piece called to her mind a dainty young woman clad in an Empire gown, taking mincing dancing steps as she came down a long avenue between tall hedges. It was situated at the top of the house, made up of odd angles and a queer, sloping ceiling. Pontellier's eyes were quick and bright; they were a yellowish brown, about the color of her hair. Pontellier had brought down her key through force of habit.

Kate Chopin's 'The Awakening' of Edna Pontellier

When she and Robert stepped into Tonie's boat, with the red lateen sail, misty spirit forms were prowling in the shadows and among the reeds, and upon the water were phantom ships, speeding to cover. The hot wind beating in my face made me think -- without any connection that I can trace of a summer day in Kentucky, of a meadow that seemed as big as the ocean to the very little girl walking through the grass , which was higher than her waist.

He turned and hurried away to one of the far cottages, where Mademoiselle Reisz was shuffling away. The Colonel reproached his daughter for her lack of filial kindness and respect, her want of sisterly affection and womanly consideration. However, she was not seeking refreshment or help from any source, either external or from within. The tears came so fast to Mrs. Pontellier's eyes that the damp sleeve of her peignoirno longer served to dry them. Pontellier finally lit a cigar and began to smoke , letting the paper drag idly from his hand.

I worked a big deal in futures for their father this morning; nice girls; it's time they were getting married. She habitually ate chocolates for their sustaining quality; they contained much nutriment in small compass, she said. Even her eyelids rested numb and heavily over her sleepy eyes. The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering , clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation. She was hungry for them -- even a little fierce in her attachment.

Yet his presence, his manners, the warmth of his glances, and above all the touch of his lips upon her hand had acted like a narcotic upon her. It seemed to free her of a responsibility which she had blindly assumed and for which Fate had not fitted her. It was something which he felt rather than perceived, and he never voiced the feeling without subsequent regret and ample atonement.

He was a man of forty, of medium height and rather slender build; he stooped a little.


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She inhaled the odor of the blossoms and thrust them into the bosom of her white morning gown. He had met her before on other occasions, but she had seemed to him unapproachable until that day. She slept lightly at first, half awake and drowsily attentive to the things about her. A pretty dispute followed, in which Edna warmly espoused her father's cause and the Doctor remained neutral.

Unlocking the door of her bath-room she went inside, and soon emerged, bringing a rug , which she spread upon the floor of the gallery, and two huge hair pillows covered with crash, which she placed against the front of the building. And that was he also in kilts , at the age of five, wearing long curls and holding a whip in his hand.