A View from the Bridge Essay Example for Free

A View from the Bridge Essay Explore how Miller creates dramatic tension at the end of act one. Comment on this scenes importance to the play overall. A View from the Bridge by Arthur Miller explores the complicated lives and relationships between a family living in the slums of New York. This particular play is set in a slum called Red Hook which is strongly patriarchal, and where there is a large Sicilian, volatile community where many homes harbour illegal immigrants and the fear of their discovery is high. Within this society, tensions are high because of fear that they would be found hiding illegal immigrants in their home, which is what a lot of the anxiety in the play is based on. Alfieri tells us, the audience, about the importance of justice and how justice is often administrated outside rather than inside the law. This generates fear as we anticipate that people within the society will not necessarily abide by the law. Miller creates tension at the very beginning of the play by demonstrating the fact that the area is prone to violent attacks, we hear of the Vinny Bolzano incident on page 23 in which Vinny snitched to immigration that they were hiding illegal family members in their home. Beatrice describes how three flights his head was bouncin like a coconut after his brothers and father threw him out the house and on to the street. Before the play even starts, we can tell that Miller will aim to sustain a tense atmosphere throughout the play from the way Alfieri says: and watched it run its bloody course. The end of this act centres on Eddie Carbone and his family (Beatrice and Catherine) who are joined by Rodolpho and Marco (illegal immigrants), sitting together after a meal. The story so far has introduced tensions which are later developed and twisted into a devastating conclusion. We have already met Eddie Carbone the tragic protagonist of the play. He is constantly self-interested, wanting to promote and protect his own innocence. We are made aware at the beginning of the play of Eddies protection over Catherine, his niece. He says to her youre walkin wavy, and I dont like the looks theyre giving you in the candy store. This is a clear demonstration of the fact that maybe he feels a little more for her than family love, an issue which becomes inflamed when Rodolpho is introduced to the story. The relationship between Catherine and Eddie shows conflict, which effectively leads to and causes dramatic tension. Eddies possessive and protective nature is channeled through Catherine, and initially an audience may perceive this to be an effect of the male-dominated society in which they live in. This explains why he is so cynical and nervous as well as angry when Rodolpho is asked to dance by Catherine. Tensions have appears to have formed with Catherine. Eddie is becoming increasingly jealous and aggravated by this which is shown before this scene has even started from the way he says to Beatrice, the guy aint right. When Catherine asks Rodolpho to dance, he is immediately reluctant in deference to Eddie who, as it says in the stage directions, freezes, and Rodolpho claims I-Im tired. Tensions have already risen within the past few pages between Marco and Rodolpho and Eddie after arguing about whether they paint oranges and lemons, which leads the audience to believe that Marco and Rodolphos joint defiance against Eddies behaviour will become more of an issue later in the play. Rodolphos initial hesitation to dance with Catherine shows his determination not to annoy Eddie any further, however, Catherine is insistent. Eddie reacts by questioning Rodolphos masculinity, which adds to tensions because in the area where the play is set, masculinity and dominance over others is very significant. Eddies speech Its wonderful. He sings, he cooks, he could make dresses shows that he is clearly trying to mock Rodolpho. He obviously feels as though his dominance in his house is being threatened by him, therefore creating tension. Miller uses powerful symbolism in his writing to portray Eddies character and express his emotions to the audience. We are made aware of Eddies disapproval and anger of the situation, and Miller writes stage directions to express this. For example, Eddie seems to retreat to his rocker when he feels uncomfortable and wants to remove himself from the situation. This is his place, and as a male, he is very protective over his space and it belongs to him and only him. His newspaper is also symbolic. He uses it as his way of hiding away, for example, when the stage directions say Eddie goes to his rocker and picks up his newspaper after being told about Marco and Rodolpho having been to Africa. He later lowers his paper, indicating that he has chosen to engage in the situation. This is another example of his desire to keep himself to himself, which effectively communicates unease to the audience. The use of the pause is also significant in the build-up of dramatic tension. For example, when Eddie has just insulted Rodolpho, there is a silence: Eddie Well, thats all Im asking. Eddie reads his paper. There is a pause, leading to an awkward atmosphere. Now Catherine gets up and puts a record on the phonograph This is an uncomfortable moment of tension. Catherine breaks the silence by putting on Paper Doll, but it creates more tension by increasing the friction between Catherine, Rodolpho and Eddie. Catherine also uses it as a way of provoking Eddie by asking Rodolpho to dance. This scene is a complete contrast to earlier on in the play where Miller showed Catherine to be obedient and respectful towards Eddie. This sudden change in Catherines behaviour is partly due to the conversation earlier on in the play with Beatrice about how Catherine needs to become more independent from Eddie. Miller also uses dramatic devices to create tension such as violence when Rodolpho boxes with Eddie at the end of act one. When the stage directions say, rubbing his fists together, it shows that Eddie is trying to release his anger and frustration on Rodolpho for interfering with Catherine and his relationship with her. This creates tension as they boxing at each other. Soon after, when Marco challenges Eddie and says Can you lift this chair? and he cannot, Marco then does it and holds the chair high above his head, whilst glaring at Eddie. This threatening pose creates very visual tension for the audience, as Marco has upstaged Eddie and robbed him of his male dominance in his own home. When the end of act one arrives and the play has an interval, the audience are left on the edge of the their seats and feel anxious to know the outcome of the events they have just witnessed. The tension build-up up until this point leaves the audience at a great ease, because the play so far has left questions unanswered and problems unsolved, meaning that the audience are spending the interval relating to the characters discomfort in the play. This scene in particular is significant to the climax of the play because it sets up Eddies destiny to fail and lose his self-control. The events that happen at the end of this scene could be described as the beginning of the end, as it is this moment that effectively leads into and foreshadows the escalation of tension and drama right to the end of the play. Eddies frustration at the situation of Catherine and Rodolphos increasingly passionate relationship lead him into his feud with Marco, which in the end is what kills him. Eddie sets himself up for his own downfall, and this is the scene where it all escalates from.

A Trip to the Dentists Office Essay -- Personal Narratives Descriptiv

A Trip to the Dentist's Office The phone rings, and I answer, â€Å"Thank you for calling Enterprise, how may I help you?† The voice on the other end asks for Andrea, and I reply, â€Å"This is she.† The voice says she is calling to remind me of my 11:00 AM dental appointment. I sigh and tell her I will be there on time. I enter the brick building and walk over to the elevator; I push the up button and patiently wait. The elevator door promptly opens, and I get in. I push the button with a number two on it, and the doors close†¦ up I go. Once on the second floor, I exit the elevator. Even before I go into Dr.Taylor’s office, I can immediately smell the mixture of wintergreen-flavored toothpaste and bleach out in the hall. As soon as I open the outer door, a blast of cool air from the air conditioner hits me in the face and makes me shiver all over. I walk in and add my name to the list on the sign-in sheet. Mindy, the gray-hared women behind the frosted glass slide window, sees me and lets me know that the doctor will be ready soon. While I wait for the dental assistant in her crisp white uniform to call out my name, I look at the fish in the large blue tank in the corner of the room. The sleek fish dart about playing hide and seek with the plastic mermaid at the bottom of the tank, while tiny silver bubbles slip to the top of the tank's surface and break silently. I then turn and see a photo album sitting on a coffee table; I pick it up only to see pictures of decaying teeth and...

Bite Me: A Love Story Chapter 15

15. Head in the Clouds and Vice Versa TOMMY It was the words that brought Tommy back. For a week with the clutter of vampire cats, and for several weeks before, while trapped inside the bronze statue, the words had left Tommy. His mind had gone feral, as had his body after he escaped. For the first time since Jody had turned him, he turned to his instincts, and they had led him to the huge, shaved vampire cat Chet and his vampire progeny. Running with them he learned to use his vampire senses, had learned to be a hunter, and with them, he took blood prey for the first time: mice, rats, cats, dogs, and, yes, people. Chet was the alpha animal of the pack, Tommy the beta male, but Tommy was quickly reaching a level of where he would be a challenge to Chet's position. Ironically, it was Chet who led him back to the words, which led him back to his sanity. In the cloud, merged with the other animals, he felt what they felt, knew what they knew, and Chet knew words, put words to concepts and experiences the way a human did, the very thing that had kept Tommy from being able to turn to mist in the first place. As a human, with grammar hardwired into his brain, he put a word to everything, and as a writer, if he couldn't put a word to an experience it had no value for him. But to become mist, you simply had to BE. Words got in the way. They separated you from the condition. Feline Chet had not been a creature of words, as his kitty brain was not wired to file that kind of information, but as a vampire, a vampire sired by the prime vampire, his brain had changed, and concepts carried words for him now. As the cloud of hunters was streaming under the door to attack the Emperor (toward the smell of dog and recognition, for Chet had known the Emperor in life) the word â€Å"dog† fired across Chet's kitty mind, and in turn across the minds of all of the hunters, but for Tommy, it was transformational, as words, meaningless to the cats, cascaded across his mind, bringing with them memories, personality, identity. He materialized out of the cloud in the dark storeroom, where he could see the Emperor in heat signature, huddled in a corner, holding his knife at the ready. Even if the room had been light, Tommy moved so quickly it would have been hard for the Emperor to see what was happening. The vampire scooped up the old man, stuffed him into the barrel, crimped on the lid with a grip that crushed the metal edges, then placed the barrel so the weight would rest on the lid. Instinct and experience told Tommy that the hunters wouldn't find enough space inside to materialize as a whole, so even though the barrel was not air tight, the Emperor would be safe as long as the lid remained intact. There wasn't enough room in there, literally, to swing a cat, and that would save the old man. Tommy melted back into the cloud and moved out of the room, trying to will the concept of danger to the rest of the hunters, putting an image to Chet's word â€Å"dog† that the kitty minds would recognize, and slowly, the vampire cloud, its various tendrils having tested the room for prey and finding none accessible, snaked back under the door and away to look for blood that wasn't sealed so tight or smelled quite so dangerous. They streamed up the elevator shaft, through the building, and out onto the street, where a few cats and Tommy solidified and dropped out of the cloud. Tommy, self-conscious now, looked around, realizing that he was naked. Everything he'd experienced from the time he'd been released from the bronze shell was a sensory blur in his memory, now that he was thinking in words again. But he remembered the Emperor, who had been one of the first people he'd met in the City, and who had been kind to him; had in fact gotten him his job at the Safeway, where he'd met Jody. Jody. Both words and instinct overwhelmed him at the thought of her, memories of joy and pain as pure as the hunter state of mind. He searched in a whirlwind of words and images for a way to contain her. Jody. Need. That was the word. He'd need clothes and language to move in the world where he'd find Jody. He didn't know why he knew that, but he knew it. But first he needed to feed. He loped down the sidewalk after the hunter-cloud, tuned again for prey, and for the first time in weeks, the word blood lit up in his brain. The words brought him back. THE NOTORIOUS FOO DOG â€Å"Your car's all fucked up,† explained Cavuto. â€Å"I know,† said Stephen â€Å"Foo Dog† Wong. He stood aside and the two policemen walked by him into the loft. â€Å"Your jackets are done.† â€Å"Your apartment's all fucked up, too,† observed Cavuto, looking at the plywood fastened across the front of the loft where the windows used to be. â€Å"And full of rats,† added Rivera. â€Å"Dead rats,† said Cavuto, shaking one of the plastic boxes with the lid taped on. The rat inside rolled around like-well-like a dead rat. â€Å"They're not dead,† said Jared. â€Å"It's daytime. They're undead.† Jared wore a SCULL-FUCK SYMPHONY band T-shirt, over skin-tight black girl's jeans, with flesh-colored ACE elastic bandages running from midcalf to the midsole of his black Chuck Taylors. His Mohawk had been lacquered into magenta Statue of Liberty spikes. Cavuto looked at him and shook his head. â€Å"Kid, even in the gay community there are limits to tolerance.† â€Å"I hurt my ankles,† whined Jared. Foo nodded. â€Å"We've had a few rough days.† â€Å"I gathered,† said Rivera. â€Å"Where's your creepy girlfriend?† â€Å"She's not creepy,† said Jared. â€Å"She's complex.† â€Å"Home,† said Foo. â€Å"As was agreed in her black covenant with you,† said Jared, as ominously as he could manage. â€Å"Did you get an English accent all of a sudden?† asked Cavuto. â€Å"He does that when he wants to sound more Gothic,† said Foo. He was trying to stand in front of the ruins of the bronze statue of Jody and Tommy, but since it was twice his size, he only drew attention to it. Rivera pulled a pen from his jacket and ran it over the sawed edges of the bronze shell and pulled it back with the red-brown clot on it. â€Å"Mr. Wong, what the hell happened here?† â€Å"Nothing,† said Jared, without an English accent. Foo looked from one inspector to the other, hoping they would see how hopelessly smarter he was than them, and give up, but they wouldn't look away. They just kept looking at him like he was in trouble. He went to the futon that served as their couch, pushed a bunch of boxes of undead rats to the floor, sat down, and cradled his face in his hands. â€Å"I thought I'd found some kind of scientific bonanza, a new species, a new way for a species to reproduce-hell, maybe I have, but everything's so out of control. The fucking magic!† Rivera and Cavuto moved to the middle of the room, and stood over Foo. Rivera reached down and squeezed his shoulder. â€Å"Focus, Stephen. What happened here? Why is there blood all over that statue?† â€Å"They were in there. Tommy and Jody. Abby and I had them bronzed when they were out during the day.† â€Å"Then they never left town like you said?† asked Cavuto. â€Å"No, they had been in there all the time. Abby said that it wouldn't be bad for them, that when they were in mist form it was like they were dreaming. Mist form! What the hell is that? It's not possible.† â€Å"And you felt bad so you cut them out?† said Rivera. â€Å"No, Jared let Jody out.† â€Å"Totally by accident,† said Jared. â€Å"She was kind of a bitch about it, too.† Foo explained about Jared releasing Jody, Abby and Jody releasing Tommy, Jody throwing Tommy through the windows, and Tommy running off into the night, naked. â€Å"So he's out there,† Foo said. â€Å"They're both out there.† â€Å"We know,† said Cavuto. â€Å"You do?† Foo looked up for the first time. â€Å"You knew?† â€Å"She was seen at the Fairmont Hotel, and we found bags of blood in a room there. We'll find her. But the Emperor saw Tommy Flood, naked, sleeping with all the vampire cats. He said that the one cat, Chet, isn't really a cat anymore. Explain that, science boy.† Foo nodded. â€Å"I figured something like that might happen. The rats are smarter.† â€Å"That helps,† said Cavuto. â€Å"No, what I've found is that the vampire blood carries characteristics of the host species. The further from the prime vampire, the old vampire that turned Jody, or that's who we think is the prime vampire, the less change takes place. Abby said that Chet was turned by the prime vampire, so he's picking up human characteristics. He's going to be stronger, bigger, smarter than any of the cat vampires. He's turning into something new.† â€Å"Something new?† â€Å"Yeah. We found it with the rats. The first ones I turned from Jody's blood are smarter than the ones I turned from those rats' blood. Each generation away from her is less and less intelligent. I mean, we haven't had time to really test them, but in just the amount of time it takes them to learn the mazes, it's clear that the innate intelligence is higher in those closer to the human vampire sire. And they're stronger, because Jody was only one generation from the prime vampire. I thought I'd figured an algorithm that described it, but then they all turned to mist and merged and fucked up everything.† â€Å"Sure,† said Cavuto, â€Å"we'll nod and act like we have some idea of what you're talking about until you tell us what the hell you're actually talking about.† Foo got up and waved for them to follow him into the bedroom. There was a plywood maze that covered the entire bed, with small blue LEDs dimly lighting every intersection. A sheet of Plexiglas covered the top. â€Å"The UV LEDs are to keep them from turning to mist and escaping the maze,† Foo said. â€Å"It's not enough to hurt them, just keep them solid.† â€Å"Oh good, a toy city,† said Cavuto. â€Å"We have time for this.† Foo ignored him. â€Å"The rats who were turned from Jody's blood learned the maze more quickly, and remembered it faster than the ones turned from rat blood. It was consistent, until they all got loose and merged into a single cloud. After that, they all knew the maze, even if we had never put them in it.† Rivera bent down and pretended to be examining the maze. â€Å"What are you saying, Stephen?† â€Å"I think that they share a consciousness when they are together in mist form. What one knows, the others know. After they had merged, they all knew the maze.† Rivera looked at Cavuto and raised his eyebrows. â€Å"The Emperor thought that Tommy Flood was in the same cloud as the vampire cats.† â€Å"We're fucked,† said Cavuto. Rivera looked at Foo for confirmation. â€Å"Are we fucked?† Foo shrugged, â€Å"Well, from what I could tell, Tommy wasn't really that bright.† Rivera nodded. â€Å"Uh-huh, and if your girlfriend didn't have a crush on him, would we be fucked?† Foo flinched a little, then recovered. â€Å"I think they'd be limited by the brain capacity of the species, so the vampire cats would be still be cats, but they'd be very smart. Chet, on the other hand-â€Å" â€Å"We're fucked,† said Cavuto. â€Å"Say it.† â€Å"Scientifically speaking, yes,† said Jared, who stood in the doorway of the bedroom. â€Å"How do we stop them?† asked Rivera. â€Å"Sunlight. UV light will do it,† said Foo. â€Å"You have to find them while they're dormant or they'll just run away. They're not invulnerable to physical damage. If they're dismembered or decapitated it will kill them.† â€Å"You did experiments on that?† asked Cavuto. Foo shook his head. â€Å"We had some accidents when we were trying to get them back in their cages, but I'm basing that hypothesis on Abby's description of the swordsman who showed up in the street.† â€Å"He sounds badass,† said Jared. â€Å"Did you find him?† Cavuto took Jared by a hair spike, steered him into the corner, faced him there, then turned back to Foo. â€Å"So, these jackets you made us, they'll take them out?† â€Å"If you're close enough. I'd say they're lethal to about twelve feet. I suppose I can rig something higher intensity, like a high-capacity UV laser flashlight. You could cut them down from a distance with something like that.† â€Å"Light sabers!† said Jared, his voice going up. He hopped around in excitement, then winced at the pain in his ankles. â€Å"Ouch.† â€Å"That's it,† said Cavuto. â€Å"You're too much of a nerd to be gay. I'm contacting the committee. They'll revoke your rainbow flag and you will not be permitted anywhere near the parade.† â€Å"There's a committee?† â€Å"No,† said Rivera. â€Å"He's fucking with you.† Rivera turned back to Foo. â€Å"What about something that will work on a wider basis-like a vaccine or something?† Foo thought for a second. â€Å"Sure, what is it, Tuesday? I'm curing Ebola in the morning, but I can work on your vampire vaccine after lunch.† Rivera smiled. â€Å"People are dying, Steve. Lots of people. And the only people who have a chance to stop it are in this room.† â€Å"Not you,† Cavuto said to Jared. â€Å"Bitch,† Jared replied. â€Å"I'll work on it,† said Foo. â€Å"But it's not as bad as you think it is.† â€Å"Brighten our day, kid,† said Cavuto. â€Å"They can't all handle it. Four out of every ten animals that are turned vampire don't survive to the second night. They either just break down on the spot-sort of decay from the inside, or they go crazy-it's like the heightened senses overwhelm them and they just have sort of a seizure that scrambles their brains and they end up with no survival instincts. They don't feed or hide from the light. The first sunrise after they're turned burns them up. It's like accelerated evolution, taking out the weak the very first day.† â€Å"So you're telling me what?† â€Å"The cat cloud won't grow exponentially. And the only way it will pass to other species is if they bite their attacker during the attack and ingest vampire blood-that's why you haven't had any more human vampires.† â€Å"Then why no dog vampires?† asked Cavuto. â€Å"I'm guessing the cats tear them apart before they change,† said Foo. â€Å"I'm not a behavioral guy, but I'd guess there's no brotherhood among vampires. If you're a vampire cat, you're essentially still a cat. If you're a vampire dog, you're still a dog.† â€Å"Except for Chet,† said Rivera. â€Å"Who is kind of a cat plus something else.† â€Å"Well, there are anomalies,† said Foo. â€Å"I told you, this is very fuzzy science. I don't like it.† Rivera's phone chirped and he flipped it open and looked at the screen. â€Å"The Animals,† he said. â€Å"And?† asked Cavuto. â€Å"They're at a butcher shop in Chinatown. They say they have a way to kill the vampires but they can't find them.† â€Å"We can take them Marvin. Tell them we're on the way.† Rivera held the phone like it was a foul dead thing. â€Å"I don't know how.† Foo snatched the phone out of Rivera's hand, nine-keyed a message, hit SEND, and handed it back. â€Å"There, you're on the way. I thought you said the only people who could fix this were in this room.† â€Å"They are, and now they're leaving.† â€Å"Don't forget your sun jackets,† said Jared. â€Å"We charged the batteries and everything. Do you think you'll be able to turn them on, or should I come along to help?† â€Å"He's a kid.† Rivera grabbed Cavuto's arm. â€Å"You can't hit him.† â€Å"That's it, kid. You're out of the tribe. If I hear you've touched a penis, even your own, I'm sending you to butch lesbian jail.† â€Å"They have that?† Rivera looked past his partner at Jared and nodded, slowly, seriously. KATUSUMI OKATA The burned-up white girl was not healing very quickly and Okata was running out of blood. All he seemed to do was watch her, sketch her, and squeeze his blood into her mouth. While her red hair had returned, and most of the ash had flaked away to reveal white skin underneath, she was still wraith-thin, and she only seemed to breathe two or three times an hour. During the day, she didn't breathe at all, and he thought that she might be dead forever. She had not opened her eyes, and had made no sound except a low moan when he was feeding her, which subsided as soon as he stopped. He was not feeling well himself, and on the second day he became light-headed and passed out on the mat beside her. If she did come alive as a demon, he'd be too weak to defend himself and she would drain the last drops of his life. Strangely, he was not okay with that. He needed to eat and recover and she needed more blood. â€Å"We will have to find a balance,† he said to the white girl in Japanese. He had been talking to her more lately, and found that he no longer flinched at the sound of his voice inside the little apartment that had been without a human voice for so long. A balance. When it was light and she had been still for an hour, he locked up his little apartment, took his sword, and walked into Chinatown, feeling ashamed of the little, old-man steps he was taking because he had become so weak. Perhaps he would actually go into a restaurant and have some tea and noodles, sit until his strength returned. Then he would find a better way to feed the burned-up white girl. He only spoke a dozen words of Cantonese, despite having lived near Chinatown for forty years. They were the same dozen words he spoke in English. He told his students at the dojo it was because Bushido and the Japanese language were inseparable, but in fact, it was because he was stubborn and didn't really like talking to people. His words were: hello, good-bye, yes, no, please, thank you, okay, sorry, and suck my dick. He made it a rule, however, to only say the last three in junction with please and/or thank you, and had only broken that rule once, when a thug in the Tenderloin tried to take his sword and Okata forgot to say please before fracturing the man's skull with the sheathed katana. Sorry, he'd said. It had been over a week since Okata had been to the dojo in Japantown. His students would think he was testing them, and when the time came to face them, he would say through his translator that they should learn to sit. Should learn patience. Should anticipate nothing. Anticipation was desire and didn't the Buddha teach that desire was the cause of all suffering? Then he would proceed to trounce each and every one of them with the bamboo shinai as an object lesson in suffering. Thank you. He didn't care much for prepared Chinese food, but Japantown was too far to walk, and Japanese food in his neighborhood was too expensive. But noodles are noodles. He'd eat just enough to get his strength back, then he would buy a fish, maybe some beef to help replace his blood, and take them home and prepare them. After he slurped down three bowls of soba and drank a pot of green tea at a restaurant named Soup, he made his way to the butcher. Near the old man who sat on a milk crate playing a Gaohu, a two-string, upright fiddle that approximated the sound of someone hurting a cat, the swordsman passed two policemen, who had paused as if considering whether they should give money to the old fiddler or whether it might not be better for everyone if they just Tased him. They smiled and nodded to Okata and he smiled back. They were mildly amused by the little man in the too-short plaid slacks, fluorescent orange socks, and an orange porkpie hat, who they had seen walking the City since they were boys. It never occurred to them that he was anything but an eccentric street person, or that the walking stick with which he measured his easy strolls, wasn't a walking stick at all. It took considerable pointing and pantomime to get the Chinese butcher to understand that he wanted to buy blood, but once he did, Okata was surprised to find out not only was it available, but it was available in flavors: pig, chicken, cow, and turtle. Turtle? Not for his burned-up white girl. How dare the butcher even suggest such a thing? She would have beef, and maybe a quart or two of pig, because Okata remembered reading once that human flesh was called â€Å"long pig† by Pacific island cannibals, so pig blood might be more to her liking. The butcher taped the lids on eight, one-quart plastic containers containing all the nonturtle blood he had, then carefully stacked them in a shopping bag and handed them to a woman at the cash register. Okata paid her the amount on the register, picked up the bag, and was pocketing the change when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned. No one there. Then he looked down: a tiny Chinese grandmother dressed in thug-wear that made her look vaguely like a hip-hop Yoda. She said something to him in Cantonese, then said something to the butcher, then to the woman behind the counter, who pointed at the shopping bag, then she said something else to Okata. Then she put a hand on his shopping bag. â€Å"Thank you,† Okata said in Cantonese. He bowed slightly. She didn't move. Being confronted by a Chinese grandmother while shopping in Chinatown was not unusual. In fact, more than once he'd had to push through a dog pile of Sino-matrons to simply buy a decent cabbage, but this one seemed to want what Okata had clearly already purchased. He smiled, bowed again, just slightly, said, â€Å"Good-bye,† and tried to push past her. She stepped in front of him, and he noticed, as he should have before, that a whole group of young men stepped in behind her; seven of them, Anglo, Hispanic, black, and Chinese, they all looked slightly stoned, but no less determined. The old lady barked something at him in Cantonese and tried to grab his bag. Then the young men behind her stepped up. THE ANIMALS â€Å"Have you been washed in the blood?† said Clint, the born-again ex-heroin addict to the detectives as they entered the butcher shop. He grinned over his shoulder. Clint was splattered head to toe with blood. Everyone in the shop was splattered with blood except the two uniform cops, who were trying to keep the three groups-the customers, the butchers, and the Animals-separated. They had the Animals lined up opposite the counter, facing the wall, their hands restrained with zip ties. â€Å"Inspector, these guys say they're supposed to meet you here,† said the younger of the uniforms, a gaunt, Hispanic guy named Muà ±ez. Rivera shook his head. â€Å"He started it,† said Lash Jefferson. â€Å"We were just minding our own business, and he rolled up on us all badass.† Rivera looked at the Asian officer, John Tan, who he'd worked with before when investigating a murder in Chinatown and had needed a translator. â€Å"What happened?† Tan shook his head and pushed his hat back on his head with the end of his riot baton. â€Å"Nobody's hurt. It's beef and pig blood. The butcher says these guys attacked a little old Japanese man, a regular customer, because he had bought the last of the beef blood.† â€Å"We needed it for bait,† said Lash. â€Å"You know, Inspector, like beer for slugs.† He winked. â€Å"You attacked an old man because he bought the last cow blood?† asked Cavuto. â€Å"He attacked us,† said Troy Lee. â€Å"We were just defending ourselves.† â€Å"He had a sword,† said Drew, who turned back around quickly. Officer Tan rolled his eyes at Rivera. â€Å"The butcher says the old man had a stick of some kind. He used it to defend himself.† â€Å"Just because he didn't draw it out of the scabbard doesn't meant it wasn't a sword,† said Jeff, the tall, blond jock. â€Å"It was a battle of honor,† said Troy Lee. â€Å"One little old guy with a stick, seven of you?† said Rivera. â€Å"Honor?† â€Å"He told my grandma to suck his dick,† said Troy. â€Å"Still,† said Cavuto. â€Å"But she said okay,† Troy said. â€Å"That shit is just wrong,† said Lash. Grandma, who was standing with the other outraged, blood-splattered customers across the butcher shop, fired off a volley of Cantonese at the policemen. Rivera looked to Officer Tan for translation. â€Å"She says she misunderstood what he was saying because his accent was so bad.† â€Å"Don't care,† said Rivera. â€Å"Where's the guy with the alleged stick?† â€Å"He ran out before we got here,† said Tan. â€Å"We called in backup, but we put the responding unit on finding the victim, when these guys didn't resist.† â€Å"Resistance is futile,† said Clint in a robot voice. â€Å"I thought you were Christian,† said Cavuto. â€Å"What, I can't love Jesus and Star Trek?† â€Å"Oh for fuck's sake. Rivera, let's just arrest these morons and-â€Å" Rivera held up his hand for silence. â€Å"Officer Tan, I'm afraid I do need them. You have their names if the stick guy shows up and wants to press charges. Have all those people leave their names with the butcher. These guys will pay for their dry cleaning.† â€Å"Yes, sir,† said Tan. â€Å"They're all yours. You want me to clip the restraints?† â€Å"Nope,† said Rivera. â€Å"Come along, boys.† He led the Animals, their hands cuffed behind their backs, out of the butcher shop and into the flow of the Stockton Street sidewalk-a river of people. â€Å"You'd better bring Troy Lee's grandma,† said Lash, rolling to the side as a vendor with a handtruck full of crates bumped by. â€Å"Yeah, Grandma has a secret weapon,† blurted out Troy Lee. â€Å"I heard,† said Cavuto. Jeff, the tall jock, said, â€Å"Hey, did anyone wonder why a little old Japanese guy would need eight quarts of animal blood?†

Trifles by Susan Glaspell Women’s Silent Voices Essay

In today’s society, we generally view upon everyone as equal; however this view did not exist for decades. Throughout history, there were many instances showing that men dominated women and women were often seen as left with less important or treated as an inferior being. Women were often expected to be good mothers to their children as well as caretakers to their husband. After reading the play â€Å"Trifles† by Susan Glaspell, I was able to grasp the important facts about social views of women and their domestic roles. Glaspell’s play depicts the gender inequality which exists in the society, drawing significant attention to the societal values of women at that time. Although women’s roles are treated as unimportant, she depicts women’s†¦show more content†¦However, Susan Glaspell uses the kitchen in the plot as another theatrical metaphor for a domain of gender identification because it is a women’s domestic territory where womenà ¢â‚¬â„¢s life is revealed through common kitchen items. Throughout the play, we can distinguish the roles given to women in that era. In this era, women’s roles were generally reproductive, so they have been relegated to the home with less interaction with the outside world. Because kitchens have often served as work spaces, women have found a sense of empowerment through domestic tasks such as cooking, food knowledge, and efficiency of the kitchen. These conditions reveal the state of mind of women in the play. Minnie Wright’s â€Å"gloomy kitchen† (Glaspell 443) is â€Å"left without having been put in order—unwashed pans under the sink, a loaf of bread outside the breadbox, a dish towel on the table—other signs of incompleted work† (Glaspell 443). She lost her motivation to do housework chores, which represents that her mind is battered and leads to Mr. Wright’s murder—he has distorted her life. The dialogues between the men and women in â€Å"Trifles† are important because they help the reader understand the patriarchal society which does not allow women to have a life of their own. In their dialogue towards the women, the men ridicule women’s roles. As we see this in the beginning of the play, Mr. Hale despises the women becauseShow MoreRelatedWomen s Suffrage By Susan Glaspell1364 Words   |  6 PagesFemale Oppression and Liberation in Trifles Between December 1st and 2nd 1900, John Hossack (a farmer from Warren County, Iowa) was murdered with an ax by his wife while in bed (Iowa Cold Cases, Inc). This play was inspired by the true story of Margaret Hossack, an Iowa farm wife who was charged with the murder of her husband John. One of the reporters, Susan Glaspell, decided to write a literary version of this investigation and â€Å"Trifles† came to be. Susan Glaspell is a feminist writer from DavenportRead MoreSusan Glaspells Trifles1479 Words   |  6 PagesSusan Glaspell’s 1916 play titled â€Å"Trifles† uses many elements of drama such as, diction and spectacle through the actions of the two women as they rummage through a unusually messy kitchen to develop complexity and hold the attention of the audience until the very end. Glaspell uses irony and common misconceptions to convey her powerful message â€Å"Trifles† is also a play that reflects a clear notion of gender and sex roles. Glaspel l, a feminist writer, writes plays that are known for their developmentRead MoreThe Dramatic Play Trifles 1099 Words   |  5 PagesIn the dramatic play, â€Å"Trifles†, Mr. Wright has been hung in his farmhouse and all suspicions point to his wife. The County Attorney, Sheriff Peters, and a neighbor, Mr. Hale go to Mr. Wright’s house to investigate the crime scene. When they arrive at the house, they find Mrs. Wright sitting on the porch and she is silent. Along with the three men there are two women, Mrs. Hale and Mrs. Peters. While the men do an investigation, the women conduct an investigation of their own. Walking throughRead MoreWomen s Rights On The Grounds Of Political, Social, And Economic Equality1508 Words   |  7 Pagestoday, it wasn’t quite as popular back in the 19th century when the play â€Å"Trifles† was written by Susan Glaspell. This play, written in 1916, focuses on the culturally rooted ideas of gender and sex roles given to ea ch member of society and how women began to challenge them. Women were mostly just assigned to the reproductive role in society so they were confined to the home to care of the children and their husbands. Glaspell incorporates inciting details to the play that allowed us to sympathizeRead MoreSusan Glaspell s Trifles On The Matter Under The Murder Investigation Essay796 Words   |  4 Pagesconcerned by society from the past to the present. Susan Glaspell wrote Trifles in 1919 implying the matter under the murder investigation. It was 4 years before women had a right to vote in the United States in 1920. The story is about the investigation of the county attorney, Sheriff, Mrs. Hales and two women Mrs. Peter and Mrs. Hales regarding Mr. Wright’s death. It is also about the prejudice and discrimination of men toward women and the women’s status in the society at this point of time. TheRead MoreWomen ´s Role During the Twentieth Century: Susan Glaspell1137 Words   |  5 PagesSusan Glaspell uses a variety of symbols in her play to demonstrate the stereotypical view and treatment of women by men during the start of the twentieth century. She intricately portrays the female characters in her story as intelligent, but passive due to the fact that males dismiss their ideas and conversations as unimportant. The play, Trifles, uses multiple symbols to show how men fail to recognize the intelligence of women, and oppress the feminists’ way of thinking throughout society. TheRead MoreComparison essay -- Trifles and A Dolls House1460 Words   |  6 Pagesï » ¿Desperate Times Call For Desperate Change People are capable of doing crazy things! Nora, in Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House, loved her husband so much that she committed forgery just for the sake of his wellbeing. Susan Glaspell’s character in Trifles, Mrs. Wright, murders her husband after she discovers that he killed the one most precious thing to her, her pet bird. It was out of love that these women committed illegal crimes. Nora wanted her husband to be healthy because she loved him and knewRead MoreThe Revolt Of Mother By Mary E. Wilkins Freeman And Trifles By Susan Glaspell1736 Words   |  7 PagesKeana Jones April 6, 2017 â€Å"The Revolt of ‘Mother’† by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman and Trifles by Susan Glaspell: Where’s The Power Of Feminism ? In the late nineteenth century, America was considered as a patriarchal society. Where males had all control and women worked as their slave. Women were to support all decisions, cook, clean, conceive children, teach, and remain silent. Women has continuously remained a lower standard than men. Still today, womankind is assumed of as unintelligent, inadequateRead MoreTrifles- Battle of the Sexes Essay1898 Words   |  8 Pageswomen did not have a voice or a valued opinion; they were simply thought of as unseen and unintelligent. It took nearly 72 years before the 19th amendment to our Constitution was signed into law, granting women the right to vote (Infoplease). During the early part of the twentieth century, the duties and structures of women’s lives would have predisposed them to approach a problem from a different angle than that of men and even today, despite the significant changes in women’s lives and opportunitiesRead MoreAn Analysis Of Zora Neale Hurstons Tri fles By Susan Glaspell1138 Words   |  5 Pagessupremacy was undoubtedly the predominant basis of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Rendered unable to voice their own opinions, women then turned to pen and paper as a way to communicate their thoughts. From this, arose the following pieces: Kate Chopin’s short story â€Å"The Story of an Hour,† Emily Dickinson’s poem â€Å"She rose to His Requirement - dropt,† Susan Glaspell’s play Trifles, and Zora Neale Hurston’s novel Their Eyes were Watching God. Through skillful integrations of metaphors, similes