What is Literature?

Literature is a body of written works. The name has

traditionally been applied to those imaginative works
of poetry and prose distinguished by the intentions of
their authors and the perceived aesthetic excellence
of their execution. Literature may be classified
according to a variety of systems, including language,
national origin, historical period, genre, and subject
matter.
• Literature can be defined as any collection of written or oral
work, but it more commonly and narrowly refers to writings
specifically considered to be an art form, especially prose
fiction, drama, and poetry, in contrast to academic writing
and newspapers. In recent centuries, the definition has
expanded to include oral literature, much of which has been
transcribed.
• Literature is a form of human expression. But not everything
expressed in words - even when organized and written down – is
counted as literature. Those writings that are primarily informative -
technical, scholarly, journalistic – would be excluded from the rank of
literature by most critics. Artistic merit, which means the artistic
quality or value of a work of literature, is one of the essential quality
that a work of literature is expected to possess, like a work of art,
music, film, sculpture or painting. Any work of literature, like any
other art forms, is an artistic creation of aesthetic value.
• The root of the term ‘literature’:

• Its Latin root literatura/litteratura (from littera: letter of the

alphabet or handwriting) was used to refer to all written
accounts. Developments in print technology have allowed an
ever-growing distribution and proliferation of written works,
which now includes electronic literature.
• So literature is divided into two as oral literature and written
literature. Oral literature is also known as folk literature. In its
broadest sense, oral literature is the literature that is spoken or sung
as opposed to that which is written. The works of oral literature were
transmitted from generation to generation by words of mouth. In
other words, they were being recited or sung at the outset. Today we
have their written forms due to their being written down over time.
This obviously happened after the invention of writing. However, their
being written down does not make the works coming from the oral
tradition belong to written literature.
• The works coming from the oral literature are anonymous.
• Oral literature includes
• 1. Myth 14. ritual texts,
• 2. legend 15. creation tales,
• 3.saga
• 4. ballad
• 5. epic
• 6. story/tale
• 7. proverb
• 8. history/historical narratives
• 9. songs, chants
• 10. riddles,
• 11. tongue-twisters,
• 12. word games,
• 13. recitations,
• Literature, as an art form, can also include works in various non-fiction genres,
such as autobiography, biographies, diaries, journals, memoirs, letters,
travelogues (travel writings), and essays, as well as in the disciplines of history
and philosophy.

• So Literature can be classified as fiction- imaginative literature and non-

imaginative literature, non-fiction. Imaginative literature or imaginative
works include four main types of literature. Poetry, drama, novel and short
story. The term is now used to refer to fictional works written in prose such as
novel and short story. They are also known as fiction or fictional works. In a
work of fiction characters, events, and states of things are imagined or
invented. Everything in them depends upon the authors’ imagination. Non-
imaginative literature or non-fiction refers to the type of literature or writings
about things which are true. They are based on facts, real events. For example,
biography, autobiography, journal, diary, memoir, essay and travelogue belong to
the non-imaginative literature.
Literature is of two kinds:
1. Oral literature
2. Written literature

Literature can be classified as :

1. Imaginative Literature / Fiction
2. Non-imaginative literature/ Non-Fiction

Imaginative literature refers to fictional works written in prose

such as novel and short story. They are also known as fiction or
fictional works. In a work of fiction characters, events, and
states of things are imagined or invented. Everything in them
depends upon the authors’ imagination.
Imaginative literature or imaginative works include four main
types of literature:
• 1.Poetry
• 2.drama
• 3.novel
• 4. short story

• Fiction (n.): imaginative or invented literary work.

• Fictional (adj.): existing only in fiction. (e.g. : Pip is a fictional
character.)
• Fictitious (adj.): invented or not real or true. (e.g. He has a
fictitious name.)
• Non-imaginative literature or non-fiction refers to the type
of literature or writings about things which are true. They are
based on facts, real events. For example, biography,
autobiography, journal, diary, memoir, essay and travelogue
(travel writing) belong to the non-imaginative literature.
Historical and philosophical writings are also included in non-
imaginative literature.
 The types of language that are used in literature

1. Verse: Metrical composition in general. Metrical and

rhythmical use of language. The form of the language that is
used in poetry. It is the language of the first dramatic works,
that is, the dramatic works of the classical literature.
2. Prose: Prose can be defined as written or spoken language
in its ordinary form, without metrical structure. The ordinary
form of written and spoken language. It is the type of the
language that is used in drama, novel, short story as well as all
types in non-imaginative literature.
 Short Story Analysis
Introduction
People have always told stories since the prehistoric times.
The pictures that primitive tribes drew on the walls of ancient
caves were telling a story. We still tell stories in our daily life as
we recount an event that has happened to us, to somebody
else who has not shared that experience. In this sense, even
the news in papers or on TV tell us a story which we most
probably have not been a part of. However, it was at the
beginning of the 19th century when the literary short story
/short fiction came into being in such countries as the USA,
Germany, France and Russia.
Guy de Maupassant became the father of the short fiction in
France and Anton Chekhov in Russia.
• The rise of the literacy rate and that of educational
opportunities as well as better economic conditions and
increasing number of journals/magazines to publish short
stories in the USA and Europe were the circumstances that
affected the rate of the interest in the short story.
• ‘Story’ or ‘tale’ should be distinguished from the ‘short
story’ which denotes a literary type. Although ‘story’ is
sometimes loosely used to mean short story, it would be
useful for us to confine the meaning of the term as in the
following:
• Tale is a story especially one which is not true or is difficult to
believe. (e.g. : My grandfather used to tell tales of his time as a
pilot during the war. / Children always like to listen to fairy tales.)
• Story is:
• 1. the course of a person’s or institution’s life. (e.g. : His story is a
sad one.)
• 2. an account of an incident or series of events. (e.g. : They all tell
the same story.)
• 3. a piece of narrative. (e.g. : Tell me a story.)
• 4. Main facts or plot of a work of fiction. (e.g. : Most people read
novels only for the story. / The story in Great Expectations rather
than the technique attracts my attention.)
Every short story represents an imaginary world with
specific people, places and events. Our reading of the
short story is a process of engaging our interest in this
world. The writer, on the other hand, uses the short
story as a medium to present us with the meaning of
the human experience. So we, as readers, learn to
find meaning of the human experience and share it
with others much like the way the characters do
among themselves.
• However, the world of the story (the world of fiction/fictional
world) and the world of the reader (the world of
facts/factual world) need a classroom, a teacher and perhaps
an anthology to confront each other. As we try to enter into
different people’s experiences, we have to understand what
the writer offers.
• Short stories, like novels, are realistic works though they are
fictional. In other words, on one side we see, in a short
storty, fictionalized characters and events; but on the other
side the reflection of the real world; i.e. the depiction of the
characters, situations, incidents, places and time which are
similar to those we have in real life. The things presented in a
short story are probable, possible and believable.
• Thus, it can be said that short story is a literary type in which
we can find both the fictional and factual world. A short
story presents its readers with the combination of these two
worlds. In a short story, just like in a novel, there is certainly
a representation of the real world and real life experiences of
real people. Its depiction of the real world is called ‘literary
realism’.
• Literary realism attempts to represent familiar things as they
are. Realist authors choose to depict everyday and banal
activities and experiences.
• Broadly defined as «the representation of reality», realism in
the arts is the attempt to represent subject matter truthfully,
without artificiality and avoiding artistic conventions, as well
as implausible, exotic and supernatural elements.
 Some Useful Terms

• Narrate (v.): To tell the story in a novel, a short story, a play, a tale, a book
or a film. (e.g. : Pip narrates his own story in Great Expectations. / In a
novel or short story sometimes the main character narrates the story and
sometimes the author.)

• Narration (n.): The act of narrating. (e.g. : The narration in Conrad’s novel is
different from that of the other novelists because he is a modernist writer.)
• Narrative (n.): A story or description of a series of events. (e.g. : It is a nice
piece of narrative./It is a tragic narrative.)
• Narrator (n): The person who narrates the story. (e.g. : There is more than
one narrator in Conrad’s novels.)
 The definition and characteristics of short story

Short story is a work of prose fiction shorter than the short

novel, more restricted in characters and situations. Though
brevity is relative, it has become a distinguishing quality of
short story – a quality differing short story from the novel.
Unlike the novel, the short story does not develop a character
fully. Generally, a single aspect of a character’s personality
undergoes change or is revealed as a result of some incident,
confrontation or conflict.
A short-story writer usually concentrates on a single action of
a single character involved in a single episode. The turning
point in action (climax, the point of highest interest, or of
highest tension) may occur at the very end. The end may or
may not involve a dénouement (the explanation or resolution
of the complications of the story). Many other arrangements
are, of course, possible. Because of the limited length, there
are generally no detailed descriptions of background in a short
story. Only necessary background information or past actions
related to the present situation are given.
• The short story is an American invention. It has become an
increasingly important genre since the mid-nineteenth
century. Yet some earlier types may be considered to be the
forefathers of the short story such as myth, legend, fairy tale,
fable and novella. Two early examples are Geoffrey
Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales written in verse between 1386
and 1400; and Giovanni Boccaccio’s Decameron written in
the 14th century. It is a novella. A novella is a short prose tale
which was popular in Italy in the medieval period. Novellas
were concerned mainly with the events of city life.
 Conflict

• Conflict: The tension or struggle between characters or opposing forces in

a plot. It is conflict which provides the elements of interest in a work of
fiction. The conflict in a story is the main challenge to overcome. It compels
the plot forward and is usually resolved during the plot’s climax. Conflict
may occur:
• 1. Within one character,
• 2. between a character and environment or nature
• 3. between two or more characters.
• 4. between the character and society, the traditions, conventions and
religion.
• 5. between the character and his/her fate.
 Types of Conflict with Examples
• 1. Conflict within One Character: This character is usually the main
character/the protagonist. It is also known as the protagonist vs self
conflict.
• In this kind of conflict, the protagonist may have inner struggles to
overcome in order to succeed. The protagonist may need to get over
a lost love, learn courage, or achieve a personal goal that they set out
for themselves in the beginning. For example, this happens in The
Wizard of Oz. Dorothy and her companions each has to learn that the
characteristics they most desire are within them. The Cowardly Lion
seeks courage, the Tin Man seeks the ability to love, and the
Scarecrow seeks intellect.
• In this type of conflict, a character may find himself or herself battling
between two competing desires or selves, typically one good and one
evil.
• The opposing forces, against which the protagonist struggles, may be
his/her inner impulses, desires and aspirations.
• 2. Conflict between the protagonist and environment or
nature. In the protagonist vs nature conflict, the protagonist
goes up against a challenge that occurs in nature. This may
involve a main character taking on a natural challenge like
escaping the jungle, or a natural disaster like a tsunami or
asteroid coming at earth. In this type of conflict, humankind
comes up against nature, battling for survival against its inexorable
and apathetic force. The hero may be forced to confront nature, or
the protagonist may be seeking the conflict, trying to exert
dominance over nature.
• Probably the most famous example of this type of conflict is Herman
Melville's Moby Dick; it tells the story of a man's obsession with
overcoming nature – specifically, a whale. A shorter example (and on
a slightly smaller scale – smaller boat, smaller fish) is Ernest
Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea.
• 3. Conflict between two or more characters. The characters between
whom conflict appears are usually the protagonist and antagonist. In
the protagonist vs antagonist conflict, the protagonist must challenge
the antagonist in order to prevent the antagonist from doing
something harmful. For example, this occurs in Harry Potter. Harry
(protagonist) must defeat Voldermort (antagonist). Harry is the only
person who can save the world from Voldermort and represents
the child savior.
• 4. Conflict between the protagonist and society: In the protagonist vs
society conflict, the protagonist may identify an enemy or problem in
society that they must overcome, often single-handedly. In children’s
books, this model is often recast as Child (protagonist) vs. Adults
(Society) where the child must save adults from themselves. We see
this in the ‘child savior’ complex such as in The Hunger Games.
• The person-against-society conflict follows the storyline of an
individual or a group fighting (sometimes successfully, sometimes
not-so-successfully) against injustices within their society. (Nathaniel
Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter)
• While the characters of George Orwell's Animal Farm are animals
rather than people, it still illustrates a story driven by rebellion against
a society, as the characters struggle against a corrupt power structure,
create a new society, and continue to experience struggles within the
new society.
• 5. Conflict between the protagonist and his Fate. It is also called
Person vs. Fate/God(s) Conflict.
• This type of conflict occurs when a character is trapped by an
inevitable destiny; freedom and free will often seem impossible in
these stories. This type of conflict can be found in Greek tragedy:
Oedipus is fated to marry his own mother and Odysseus finds himself
sailing throughout the Mediterranean due to the anger of Poseidon.
What can humans do in the face of the gods and fate? Only endure, it
seems. (Sophocles Oedipus, the King)
• A plot may often contain a combination of these five kinds of conflict
or a variety of conflicts. A plot with a simple, single conflict is rare in
especially drama and the novel. A short story often involves a single
conflict.
• In some fictional works, for instance, science-fiction novels, we may
encounter some types of conflicts except for the conflicts above:
1. Person vs. the Unknown/Extraterrestrial Conflict: This is a common thread
in science fiction and supernatural horror movies and books. In this type of
conflict, the protagonist battles against an entity that isn't entirely known or
comprehensible, whether it is extraterrestrial or metaphysical. Think of
Stephen King's The Shining (or many of King's books, for that matter). On the
science fiction side, H.G. Wells' 1898 novel The War of the Worlds is an
example of a group (humankind) clashing with an alien race (Martians).
2.Person vs. Technology/Machinery Conflict: The popularity of this genre has
risen steadily over the last hundred years, and in the face of increasing
mechanization and improving artificial intelligence, it's not hard to see why.
This type of conflict focuses on a person or group of people fighting to
overcome unemotional and unsympathetic machinery that believes it no
longer requires humanity.
Arthur C. Clarke's 2001: A Space Odyssey, for example, pits astronaut Dave
Bowman against the super-intelligent HAL 9000, which believes Dave's
shortcomings as a human being mean he must be forcibly removed from the
mission.
• The conflict usually begins with a precipitating incident. The
precipitating incident is any event that starts the action and therefore
makes all the subsequent events necessary. It also foreshadows or
gives a hint of the major conflict. / This might be done by descriptions
of the setting, the narrator’s comment, the author’s general tone and
the story’s moral. The precipitating incident is then followed by a
period of increasing tension and conflict called the rising action. The
rising action is the part of a narrative which follows the exposition
and the precipitating incident, and precedes the climax. The
exposition gives the setting, introduces some of the characters and
supplies other information necessary to the understanding of the
narrative. All plots follow a logical organization with a beginning,
middle, and end—but there’s a lot more to the basic plot structure
than just this. Generally speaking, every plot has some elements in
the same order:
 The Elements of Fiction
The elements of fiction are the necessary means for
reading the short story because they are the techniques
of communication that the writer uses. The elements of
fiction include:
1.plot
2.conflict
3.Point of view
4. Tone /mood
5.theme
6.point of view
7. Style
 Plot

• Plot is what happens in a story, which is presented with a sequence of

events. It is the organization of incident(s) and character(s) in a work
of literature; the plan, design or pattern of events. In a narrative there
is always a major event supported by minor events. The plot may be
external or internal. An external plot gives the reader what happens
out there while an internal plot is the set of internalized thoughts and
imagined events taking place in the minds of the main characters. In a
conventional short story, the elements of plot are several. We see a
main character in the story who usually tries to achieve something
that is either obvious or hidden to other characters.
• The main character/ major character may be called a
protagonist if there is an antagonist in the work. The
inevitable struggle between a protagonist and an antagonist,
whose function is to oppose the protagonist, constitutes the
conflict of the story. The antagonist does not need to be a
person. The struggle can be either external or internal. The
protagonist can struggle against a person, nature, society,
fate or his own impulses. The protagonist and the antagonist
often possess equal abilities for their struggle. A forceful
protagonist might struggle against multiple antagonists such
as few characters to cope with nature, society or conflicting
inner impulses, etc. A multiple struggle blends external and
internal forces.
 Conflict

• Conflict: The tension or struggle between characters or opposing forces in

a plot. It is conflict which provides the elements of interest in a work of
fiction. The conflict in a story is the main challenge to overcome. It compels
the plot forward and is usually resolved during the plot’s climax. Conflict
may occur:
• 1. Within one character,
• 2. between a character and environment or nature
• 3. between two or more characters.
• 4. between the character and society, the traditions, conventions and
religion.
• 5. between the character and his/her fate.
 Types of Conflict with Examples
• 1. Conflict within One Character: This character is usually the
main character/the protagonist. It is also known as
the protagonist vs self conflict.
• In this kind of conflict, the protagonist may have inner
struggles to overcome in order to succeed. The protagonist
may need to get over a lost love, learn courage, or achieve a
personal goal that they set out for themselves in the
beginning. For example, this happens in The Wizard of
Oz. Dorothy and her companions each has to learn that the
characteristics they most desire are within them. The
Cowardly Lion seeks courage, the Tin Man seeks the ability to
love, and the Scarecrow seeks intellect.
• In this type of conflict, a character may find himself or
herself battling between two competing desires or selves,
typically one good and one evil.
• The opposing forces, against which the protagonist struggles,
may be his/her inner impulses, desires and aspirations.
• 2. Conflict between the protagonist and environment or
nature. In the protagonist vs nature conflict, the protagonist
goes up against a challenge that occurs in nature. This may
involve a main character taking on a natural challenge like
escaping the jungle, or a natural disaster like a tsunami or
asteroid coming at earth. In this type of conflict, humankind
comes up against nature, battling for survival against its inexorable
and apathetic force. The hero may be forced to confront nature, or
the protagonist may be seeking the conflict, trying to exert
dominance over nature.
• Probably the most famous example of this type of conflict is Herman
Melville's Moby Dick; it tells the story of a man's obsession with
overcoming nature – specifically, a whale. A shorter example (and on
a slightly smaller scale – smaller boat, smaller fish) is Ernest
Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea.
• 3. Conflict between two or more characters. The characters
between whom conflict appears are usually the protagonist
and antagonist. In the protagonist vs antagonist conflict, the
protagonist must challenge the antagonist in order to
prevent the antagonist from doing something harmful. For
example, this occurs in Harry Potter. Harry (protagonist) must
defeat Voldermort (antagonist). Harry is the only person who
can save the world from Voldermort and represents the child
savior.
• 4. Conflict between the protagonist and society: In
the protagonist vs society conflict, the protagonist may identify
an enemy or problem in society that they must overcome, often
single-handedly. In children’s books, this model is often recast as
Child (protagonist) vs. Adults (Society) where the child must save
adults from themselves. We see this in the ‘child savior’ complex
such as in The Hunger Games.
• The person-against-society conflict follows the storyline of an
individual or a group fighting (sometimes successfully, sometimes
not-so-successfully) against injustices within their society.
• Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter
• While the characters of George Orwell's Animal Farm are animals
rather than people, it still illustrates a story driven by rebellion
against a society, as the characters struggle against a corrupt
• 5. Conflict between the protagonist and his Fate. It is also
called Person vs. Fate/God(s) Conflict.
• This type of conflict occurs when a character is trapped by an
inevitable destiny; freedom and free will often seem
impossible in these stories. This type of conflict can be found
in Greek tragedy: Oedipus is fated to marry his own mother
and Odysseus finds himself sailing throughout the
Mediterranean due to the anger of Poseidon. What can
humans do in the face of the gods and fate? Only endure, it
seems. (Sophocles Oedipus, the King)
• A plot may often contain a combination of these five kinds of
conflict or a variety of conflicts. A plot with a simple, single
conflict is rare in especially drama and the novel. A short
story often involves a single conflict.
• In some fictional works, for instance, science-fiction novels, we may
encounter some types of conflicts except for the conflicts above:
1. Person vs. the Unknown/Extraterrestrial Conflict: This is a common
thread in science fiction and supernatural horror movies and books. In
this type of conflict, the protagonist battles against an entity that isn't
entirely known or comprehensible, whether it is extraterrestrial or
metaphysical. Think of Stephen King's The Shining (or many of King's
books, for that matter). On the science fiction side, H.G. Wells' 1898
novel The War of the Worlds is an example of a group (humankind)
clashing with an alien race (Martians).
2.Person vs. Technology/Machinery Conflict: The popularity of this
genre has risen steadily over the last hundred years, and in the face of
increasing mechanization and improving artificial intelligence, it's not
hard to see why. This type of conflict focuses on a person or group of
people fighting to overcome unemotional and unsympathetic
machinery that believes it no longer requires humanity.
Arthur C. Clarke's 2001: A Space Odyssey, for example, pits astronaut
Dave Bowman against the super-intelligent HAL 9000, which believes
Dave's shortcomings as a human being mean he must be forcibly removed
from the mission.
• The conflict usually begins with a precipitating incident. The
precipitating incident is any event that starts the action and
therefore makes all the subsequent events necessary. It also
foreshadows or gives a hint of the major conflict. This might
be done by descriptions of the setting, the narrator’s
comment, the author’s general tone and the story’s moral.
The precipitating incident is then followed by a period of
increasing tension and conflict called the rising action. The
rising action is the part of a narrative which follows the
exposition and the precipitating incident, and precedes the
climax. The exposition gives the setting, introduces some of
the characters and supplies other information necessary to
the understanding of the narrative. All plots follow a logical
organization with a beginning, middle, and end—but there’s
a lot more to the basic plot structure than just this. Generally
speaking, every plot has some elements in the same order:
 The Elements of Plot
• Even though the plot is, essentially, the events that take place in a story,
there is a specific plot structure that most stories follow. In fact, there are
seven main plot elements to be aware of. These may be considered to be
the parts of a plot or parts of a narrative.
• 1. Exposition/Introduction
• 2.The precipitating incident /The inciting incident
• 3. The rising action/Rising Movement
• 4.Crisis/The moment of highest tension)
• 5. Climax/Turning point
• 6. the falling action
• 7. Resolution/Denouement
 Freytag's Triangle/Freytag’s Pyramid
Freytag’s Pyramid is a method of structuring a story by
mapping the progression of conflict from inception to
resolution. Founded in the theatrical drama of Ancient
Greece, basic plot structure for any narrative was laid out by
Aristotle in Poetics. According to Aristotle, each story has a
beginning, a middle, and an end. In the nineteenth century, a
German novelist Gustav Freytag flushed out these concepts
and added two other key plot points into the model – the
rising and falling action, and created a pictorial tool to help
visualize the concept.
• Gustav Freytag, the 19th Century German playwright and novelist,
drew a simple triangle to represent dramatic structure and
highlighted seven parts he considered necessary to storytelling:
exposition, inciting incident, rising action, climax, falling action,
resolution, and denouement
Freytag's Triangle/Freytag’s Pyramid
• Exposition: This is the start of the story, where we meet the main
character or characters, understand the setting, and deduce the
conflict. The exposition gives the setting, introduces some of the
characters and supplies other information necessary to the
understanding of the narrative.
Crisis is a point in a story or drama when a conflict
reaches its highest tension and must be resolved
• Crisis means decision or dilemma. In a story, it’s the do-or-die
moment, that last chance where the protagonist must gather all their
strength, ingenuity, resourcefulness, and courage in one final effort to
defeat the opposing forces guarding the prize.

• A crucial or decisive point or situation; a turning point.

 The Parts of a Plot
Exposition: This is the start of the story, where we meet the main character or characters,
understand the setting, and deduce the conflict. The exposition gives the setting, introduces
some of the characters and supplies other information necessary to the understanding of the
narrative.

The conflict usually begins with a precipitating incident. The precipitating incident is any
event that starts the action and therefore makes all the subsequent events necessary. It also
foreshadows or gives a hint of the major conflict. This might be done by descriptions of the
setting, the narrator’s comment, the author’s general tone and the story’s moral. The
precipitating incident is then followed by a period of increasing tension and conflict called the
rising action. The rising action is the part of a narrative which follows the exposition and the
precipitating incident, and precedes the climax.

Crisis: That point in a story or play at which the tension reaches a maximum. Our wonder or
curiosity reaches its highest point. There may be several crises in a play or story. Sometimes
climax and crisis are so intermingled with each other that we cannot define them separately.

Climax (the turning point- the point of highest interest) The moment in a story, novel or
play when there is a definite change in direction and one becomes aware that it is now about to
move towards the end.

Falling Action: That part of the play or story which follows crisis and climax. It gives the
reader the feeling that the conflicts will be solved and that the story is about to come to its end.

Dénouement: It is the resolution part; the end of the work; the event or events following the
major climax and falling action in a plot. It is the resolution of the conflict or of the complication
at the end of the work. It is the solution of the mystery or conflicts; the explanation of the
outcome.
 Point of View

Point of view is the perspective from which a story is told; the narrator’s position
in relation to the story. In a novel or short story, the story is told from the lens of
the narrator. Point of view may be first person, third person, or less commonly,
second person.
An automobile accident occurs. Two drivers are involved. Witnesses include
four sidewalk spectators, a policeman, a man with a video camera who happened
to be shooting the scene, and the pilot of a helicopter that was flying overhead.
Here we have nine different points of view and, most likely, nine different
descriptions of the accident.
In short fiction, who tells the story and how it is told are critical issues for an
author to decide. The tone and feel of the story, and even its meaning, can change
radically depending on who is telling the story.
Remember, someone is always between the reader and the action of the story.
That someone is telling the story from his or her own point of view. This angle of
vision, the point of view from which the people, events, and details of a story are
viewed, is important to consider when reading a story.

Point of view is of two main types:

I. Participant / First Person Singular Point of View: Here the narrator

participates in the action of the story either as a major character or a minor
character.

II. Non-participant / Third Person Point of View: In this point of view, the
narrator does not participate in the action as a character but lets the reader know
what is happening in the story. The story told is not the narrator’s story but
someone else’s other than the narrator. The reader learns about the other
characters through this outside voice.

They can also be divided some sub-types:

I. Participant / First Person Singular Point of View is divided into two:
1. Narrator as the major character: In this type of point of view it is the main
character who narrates the story. The action is about the major character and s/he
tells his/her own story.
2. Narrator as a minor character: The main character’s story is told by a minor
character; the narrator participates in the action but the story s/he tells is not
his/her own story.
When reading stories in the first person, we need to realize that what the narrator
is recounting might not be the objective truth. We should question the
trustworthiness of the accounting.

II. Non-participant / Third Person Point of View

1. Objective Point of View: The narrator tells what happens without stating his
own inference. The reader is expected to infer from the actions and dialogue. The
narrator does not disclose anything about what the characters think or feel. He
does not enter into the minds of the characters; he remains a detached observer.
The characters are just seen from the outside. This point of view is also known as
dramatic point of view because the story is narrated by the author as if he is a
mere spectator of events. It contains no references to thoughts and feelings. The
narrator just hovers over the shoulders of the characters and reports what can be
seen and heard.

2. Omniscient point of view / All-knowing narrator / Third person

omniscient: This narrator is the one that knows, sees or hears everything. He even
knows the inner thoughts and feelings of every character in the story. Third person
omniscient is a method of storytelling in which the narrator knows the thoughts
and feelings of all characters in the story, as opposed to third person limited, which
adheres closely to one character's perspective.

3. Selective Omniscient point of view/ Third person limited: Third person

limited point of view is a method of story-telling in which the narrator knows only
the thoughts and feelings of a single character. The narrator has a limited
omniscient point of view; he selects one of the characters and reflects him/her
internally while s/he sees and reflects the others only externally. Thus his/her
knowledge is limited to one character, either major or minor.

As you read a piece of fiction think about these things:

Who tells the story? Through whose point of view is the action told? How does
the point of view affect your responses to the characters? How is your response
influenced by how much the narrator knows and how objective he or she is? Are
the first person narrators always trustworthy? It is up to you to determine what the
truth is and is not.

Characterization
Characterization is a literary device that is used step by step in literature to
highlight and explain the details about a character in a story. It is in the initial
stage where the writer introduces the character with noticeable emergence and
then following the introduction of the character, the writer often talks about his
behavior; then as the story progresses, the thought-process of the character. The
next stage involves the character expressing his opinions and ideas and getting
into conversations with the rest of the characters. The final part shows how others
in the story respond to the character’s personality.

Types of Characterization

An author can use two approaches to deliver information about his characters:

1. Direct or explicit characterization: This kind of characterization takes a

direct approach towards building the character. Either a third person narrator
introduces the character and tells about him/her directly or a first person narrator
himself/herself introduces himself/herself and tells the reader about
himself/herself.

2. Indirect or implicit Characterization: This is a subtler way of introducing

the character to the audience. The reader has to deduce for himself/herself the
characteristics of the characters by observing his/her thought process, behavior,
speech, way of talking, appearance, and way of communication with the other
characters and also by discerning the response of other characters.

Five Methods of Characterization:

Physical description, Action, Inner thoughts, Reactions, and Speech.

Physical Description - the character's physical appearance is described. For

example, characters might be described as tall, thin, fat, pretty, etc. We might be
told the color of hair, or something about the clothing of the character. How the
character dresses might reveal something about the character. Does the character
wear old, dirty clothing, or stylish, expensive clothing?

Action/Attitude/Behavior - What the character does tells us a lot about him/her,

as well as how the character behaves and his or her attitude is. Is the character a
good person or a bad person? Is the character helpful to others or selfish?
Inner thoughts - What the character thinks reveals things about the character. We
discover things about their personalities and feelings, which sometimes helps us
understand the character's actions.

Reactions - Effect on others or what the other characters say and feel about this
character. We learn about the relationships among the characters. How does the
character make the other characters feel? Do they feel scared, happy, or confused?
This helps the reader have a better understanding of all the characters.

Speech - What the character says provides a great deal of insight for the reader.
The character might speak in a shy, quiet manner or in a nervous manner. The
character might speak intelligently or in a rude manner.
 Types of Characterization

An author can use two approaches to deliver information about his characters:

1. Direct or explicit characterization: This kind of characterization takes a

direct approach towards building the character. Either a third person narrator
introduces the character and tells about him/her directly or a first person narrator
himself/herself introduces himself/herself and tells the reader about
himself/herself.

2. Indirect or implicit Characterization: This is a subtler way of introducing

the character to the audience. The reader has to deduce for himself/herself the
characteristics of the characters by observing his/her thought process, behavior,
speech, way of talking, appearance, and way of communication with the other
characters and also by discerning the response of other characters.

Five Methods of Characterization:

Physical description, Action, Inner thoughts, Reactions, and Speech.

Physical Description - the character's physical appearance is described. For

example, characters might be described as tall, thin, fat, pretty, etc. We might be
told the color of hair, or something about the clothing of the character. How the
character dresses might reveal something about the character. Does the character
wear old, dirty clothing, or stylish, expensive clothing?

Action/Attitude/Behavior - What the character does tells us a lot about him/her,

as well as how the character behaves and his or her attitude is. Is the character a
good person or a bad person? Is the character helpful to others or selfish?

Inner thoughts - What the character thinks reveals things about the character. We
discover things about their personalities and feelings, which sometimes helps us
understand the character's actions.

Reactions - Effect on others or what the other characters say and feel about this
character. We learn about the relationships among the characters. How does the
character make the other characters feel? Do they feel scared, happy, or confused?
This helps the reader have a better understanding of all the characters.
Speech - What the character says provides a great deal of insight for the reader.
The character might speak in a shy, quiet manner or in a nervous manner. The
character might speak intelligently or in a rude manner.

Types of Characters in Fiction

In fictional literature, authors use many different types of characters to tell their
stories. Different types of characters fulfill different roles in the narrative process,
and with a little bit of analysis, you can usually detect some or all of the types
below. According to the characters’ participation in the action, characters are
divided into two as major and minor characters:

1. Major, main or central characters are vital to the development and resolution
of the conflict. In other words, the plot and the resolution of conflict revolve
around these characters.

2. Minor characters serve to complement the major characters and help move
the plot events forward.

Considering character development, characters are divided into two as dynamic

and static:

1. Dynamic character is a person who changes over time, usually as a result of

resolving a central conflict or facing a major crisis. Most dynamic characters tend
to be central rather than peripheral characters, because resolving the conflict is the
major role of central characters.

2. Static character is someone who does not change over time; his or her
personality does not transform or evolve.

According to personal traits they have, characters are divided into three:

A round character is anyone who has a complex personality; he or she is often

portrayed as a conflicted and contradictory person.

A flat character is the opposite of a round character. This literary personality is

notable for one kind of personality trait or characteristic.

Stock characters or stereotypes are those types of characters who have become
conventional or stereotypical through repeated use in particular types of stories.
Stock characters are instantly recognizable to readers or audience. They are such
characters as the femme fatale, the cynical but moral private eye, the mad scientist
/ the mad professor, the geeky boy with glasses, the faithful sidekick, the female
confidante, the lonely cowboy. Stock characters are normally one-dimensional
flat characters, but sometimes stock personalities are deeply conflicted, rounded
characters.
Characterization (Continues)

Characters may also be called protagonist, antagonist and anti-hero depending on

their deeds in the story.

Protagonist is the central person in a story, and is often referred to as the story's
main character. He or she (or they) is faced with a conflict that must be resolved.
The protagonist may not always be admirable (e.g. an anti-hero); nevertheless,
s/he must command involvement on the part of the reader, or better yet, empathy.

Antagonist is the character(s) (or situation) that represents the opposition against
which the protagonist must contend. In other words, the antagonist is an obstacle
that the protagonist must overcome. The English word antagonist comes from
the Greek antagonistēs, meaning “opponent, competitor, villain, enemy, rival”.

Anti-Hero: A major character, usually the protagonist, who lacks conventional

nobility of mind, and who struggles for values not deemed universally admirable.
He is not a hero in the traditional sense, rather he is someone who is not able to
act courageously or heroically. An anti-hero (sometimes spelled
as antihero) or anti-heroine (antiheroine) is a main character in a story who
lacks conventional heroic qualities and attributes such as idealism, courage,
and morality. Although antiheroes may sometimes perform actions that are
morally correct, it is not always for the right reasons, often acting primarily out of
self-interest or in ways that defy conventional ethical codes. Antiheroes can be
liars, vulgar, violent, angry, incredulous, and sarcastic.

Don Quixote is the best known anti-hero.

Meursault in Albert Camus’s The Stranger is an anti-hero.

For Camus’s protagonist Meursault, there is no heaven, no love, no acceptance.

The inability to find commonalities with others, or salvation within themselves,
is something that most anti-hero characters struggle with. No matter what they do,
they’re destined to be rejected by society. This outsider mentality is something
that’s come to define anti-hero.

A foil is any character (usually the antagonist or an important supporting

character) whose personal qualities contrast with another character (usually the
protagonist). By providing this contrast, we get to know more about the main
character.
A foil is a character who contrasts with another character; most of the time it is
the protagonist, to highlight qualities of the other character. The word foil comes
from the old practice of backing gems with foil to make them shine more brightly.
A foil usually either differs dramatically or is an extreme comparison that is made
to contrast a difference between two things.
In Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights, Edgar Linton is described as opposite to
the main character Heathcliff, in looks, money, inheritance and morals, however
similar in their love for Catherine.
In Frankenstein, by Mary Shelley, the two main characters—Dr.
Frankenstein and his "creature"—are both together literary foils, functioning to
compare one to the other

In Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, Mary's absorption in her studies places her
as a foil to her sister Lydia Bennet's lively and distracted nature.

George and Lennie are foils to each other in John Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men.
Lennie is huge and strong as a bull but is also mentally slow, while on the other
hand George is small, skinny and very smart.

A symbolic character is any major or minor character whose very existence

represents some major idea or aspect of society. A symbolic character represents
a concept or theme larger than themselves. They may have dynamic qualities,
but they also exist to subtly steer an audience’s mind toward broader concepts.
Most are supporting characters, but some fictional works have symbolic
protagonists, such as Dostoevsky’s The Idiot. When it comes to symbolic minor
characters, Boo Radley in To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee is an example,
representing a much larger legion of outcasts. Symbolically, Boo represents both
Scout's childish understanding of the lives of people around her, and also the
genuine risks and dangers that face children as they grow up in the world. As a
ghost-like figure, Boo also symbolizes aspects of the town's past, such as
intolerance, inequality, and slavery.

The Elements of Fiction (Continues)

Setting is the place and time of story. While plot and characters draw readers to
fiction, stories must take place somewhere and at some time. And where and when
they take place can ultimately be as important as who’s involved and what
happens in the story. Setting can be detailed or vague, overwhelming or barely
there. Particulars of setting can include
Locale – planet, country, city, building, field, woods, vehicle, at sea, in space. It
refers to any place where characters and actions are put.

Weather – rain, snow, sunshine, fog, temperatures, hurricanes, droughts, and so

forth.

Objects – any physical items a character can touch or use or refer to.

Era – a time period (medieval Europe) or a moment (the sixties in the U.S.A).

Time – an age or epoch or a specific year, even a time of a day or a season.

Culture – laws, social practices, societal taboos, societal expectations, politics

and government, entertainment/games, religious practices, language, education,
war, traditions, conventions, interests, industry and technology and so on.

Geography – type and/or condition of land including mountains, plains,

lowlands, islands, cloud cities, volcanoes, and so on. Geography also refers to the
terrain, plant and animal life.
 Other Elements of Fiction

Tone:

Tone refers to the author or the narrator’s attitudes toward the subject of the story
and toward the audience/reader of the story. Tone may be formal, informal,
intimate, solemn, somber, playful, serious, ironic, condescending, or many other
possible attitudes. Works of literature are often conceptualized as having at least
one theme, or central question about a topic; and how the theme is approached
within the work constitutes the work's tone.

Tone and mood are not always the same, although they are frequently used
interchangeably. The mood of a piece of literature is the feeling or atmosphere
created by the work, or, said slightly differently, how the work makes the reader
feel. Mood is produced most effectively through the use of setting, theme, voice
and tone.
Theme:

Theme can be defined as a main idea or an underlying meaning of a literary work,

which may be stated directly or indirectly. The central idea, topic, or point of a
story, essay, or narrative is its theme.

Just as a life is not constantly immersed in love, the pursuit of knowledge, or the
struggle of the individual versus society, themes are not always constantly present
in a story or composition. Rather, they weave in and out, can disappear entirely,
or appear surprisingly mid-read. This is because there are two types of themes:
major and minor themes.
The Types of Themes
Major and minor themes are two types of themes that appear in literary works.
a. Major Themes

A major theme is an idea that a writer repeats in his literary work, making it the
most significant idea in the work. Major themes are, just as they sound, the more
important and enduring themes of the narrative. Major themes are the most
significant themes of the story, and often they are a part of the entire story. A book
on war would have the major theme of war’s effect on humanity, whereas
a romance novel would have the major theme of love.

b. Minor Themes
A minor theme, on the other hand, refers to an idea that appears in a work briefly,
giving way to another minor theme. Minor themes are less important and less
enduring. They may appear for part of the narrative only to be replaced by another
minor theme later in the narrative. They provide discussion points for a chapter or
two, but do not color the entire story. A book on war may have minor themes such
as the home front’s reaction to war or the political aspects of war. A romance
novel may have minor themes such as flirtation, marriage, and fidelity.

Examples of major and minor themes in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice are
matrimony, love, friendship, and affection. The whole narrative revolves around
the major theme of matrimony. Its minor themes are love, friendship, affectation
etc.

Presentation of Themes:

A writer presents themes in a literary work through several means. A writer may
express a theme through the feelings of his main character about the subject he
has chosen to write about. Similarly, themes are presented through thoughts and
conversations of different characters. Moreover, the experiences of the main
character in the course of a literary work give us an idea about its theme. Finally,
the actions and events taking place in a narrative are consequential in determining
its theme.

The Importance of Using Theme:

The importance of using theme in narrative is unparalleled. The theme is the

underlining idea an author is trying to convey to an audience. A story without
major ideas for the character and reader to experience, think through, and learn
from is not a story at all. A story, by its very nature, must have a theme, sometimes
many major and minor themes, all throughout. Themes are the ideas book clubs,
poets, playwrights, literature students, film enthusiasts, movie-makers, and
creative writers mull over in-depth. They are the meaning behind the entire story,
the deeper reasons that the story has been written and shared.
Difference Between a Theme and a Subject Matter:

It is important not to confuse a theme of a literary work with its subject. Subject
is a topic that acts as a foundation for a literary work, while a theme is an opinion
expressed on the subject. For example, a writer may choose a subject of war for
his story, and the theme may be his personal opinion that war is a curse for
humanity. Usually, it is up to the readers to explore the theme of a literary work
by analyzing characters, plot, and other literary devices.
Subject matter is what the story or novel is about. The happenings in a work of
fiction. The things that are told in the story. It is the inclusion of the plot of a work
of fiction or of play or poem. When you talk about what is happening in the story,
you talk about the subject matter of the work.
 “THE NECKLACE” (1884)
By Guy de Maupassant

The girl was one of those pretty and charming young creatures who sometimes are born, as if
by a slip of fate, into a family of clerks. She had no dowry, no expectations, no way of being
known, understood, loved, married by any rich and distinguished man; so she let herself be
married to a little clerk of the Ministry of Public Instruction.

She dressed plainly because she could not dress well, but she was unhappy as if she had really
fallen from a higher station; since with women there is neither caste nor rank, for beauty, grace
and charm take the place of family and birth. Natural ingenuity, instinct for what is elegant, a
supple mind are their sole hierarchy, and often make of women of the people the equals of the
very greatest ladies.
Mathilda suffered ceaselessly, feeling herself born to enjoy all delicacies and all luxuries. She
was distressed at the poverty of her dwelling, at the bareness of the walls, at the shabby chairs,
the ugliness of the curtains. All those things, of which another woman of her rank would never
even have been conscious, tortured her and made her angry. The sight of the little Breton
peasant who did her humble housework aroused in her despairing regrets and bewildering
dreams. She thought of silent antechambers hung with Oriental tapestry, illuminated by tall
bronze candelabra, and of two great footmen in knee breeches who sleep in the big armchairs,
made drowsy by the oppressive heat of the stove. She thought of long reception halls hung with
ancient silk, of the dainty cabinets containing priceless curiosities and of the little coquettish
perfumed reception rooms made for chatting at five o'clock with intimate friends, with men
famous and sought after, whom all women envy and
whose attention they all desire.
When she sat down to dinner, before the round table covered with a tablecloth in use three days,
opposite her husband, who uncovered the soup tureen and declared with a delighted air, "Ah,
the good soup! I don't know anything better than that," she thought of dainty dinners, of shining
silverware, of tapestry that peopled the walls with ancient personages and with strange birds
flying in the midst of a fairy forest; and she thought of delicious dishes served on marvellous
plates and of the whispered gallantries to which you listen with a sphinxlike smile while you
are eating the pink meat of a trout or the wings of a quail.
She had no gowns, no jewels, nothing. And she loved nothing but that. She felt made for that.
She would have liked so much to please, to be envied, to be charming, to be sought after.
She had a friend, a former schoolmate at the convent, who was rich, and whom she did not like
to go to see any more because she felt so sad when she came home.
But one evening her husband reached home with a triumphant air and holding a large envelope
in his hand.
"There," said he, "there is something for you."
She tore the paper quickly and drew out a printed card which bore these words:
The Minister of Public Instruction and Madame Georges Ramponneau request the honor of
M. and Madame Loisel's company at the palace of the Ministry on Monday evening, January
18th.
Instead of being delighted, as her husband had hoped, she threw the invitation on the table
crossly, muttering:
"What do you wish me to do with that?"
"Why, my dear, I thought you would be glad. You never go out, and this is such a fine
opportunity. I had great trouble to get it. Everyone wants to go; it is very select, and they are
not giving many invitations to clerks. The whole official world will be there."
She looked at him with an irritated glance and said impatiently:
"And what do you wish me to put on my back?"
He had not thought of that. He stammered:
"Why, the gown you go to the theatre in. It looks very well to me."
He stopped, distracted, seeing that his wife was weeping. Two great tears ran slowly from the
corners of her eyes toward the corners of her mouth.
"What's the matter? What's the matter?" he answered.
By a violent effort she conquered her grief and replied in a calm voice, while she wiped her wet
cheeks:
"Nothing. Only I have no gown, and, therefore, I can't go to this ball. Give your card to some
colleague whose wife is better equipped than I am."
He was in despair. He resumed:
"Come, let us see, Mathilda. How much would it cost, a suitable gown, which you could use on
other occasions – something very simple?"
She reflected several seconds, making her calculations and wondering also what sum she could
ask without drawing on herself an immediate refusal and a frightened exclamation from the
economical clerk.
Finally she replied hesitating:
"I don't know exactly, but I think I could manage it with four hundred francs."
He grew a little pale, because he was laying aside just that amount to buy a gun and treat himself
to a little shooting next summer on the plain of Nanterre, with several friends who went to shoot
larks there of a Sunday.
But he said:
"Very well. I will give you four hundred francs. And try to have a pretty gown."
The day of the ball drew near and Madame Loisel seemed sad, uneasy, anxious. Her frock was
ready, however. Her husband said to her one evening:
"What is the matter? Come, you have seemed very queer these last three days."
And she answered:
"It annoys me not to have a single piece of jewelry, not a single ornament, nothing to put on. I
shall look poverty-stricken. I would almost rather not go at all."
"You might wear natural flowers," said her husband. "They're very stylish at this time of year.
For ten francs you can get two or three magnificent roses."
She was not convinced.
"No; there's nothing more humiliating than to look poor among other women who are rich."
"How stupid you are!" her husband cried. "Go look up your friend, Madame Forestier, and ask
her to lend you some jewels. You're intimate enough with her to do that."
She uttered a cry of joy:
"True! I never thought of it."
The next day she went to her friend and told her of her distress.
Madame Forestier went to a wardrobe with a mirror, took out a large jewel box, brought it back,
opened it and said to Madame Loisel:
"Choose, my dear."
She saw first some bracelets, then a pearl necklace, then a Venetian gold cross set with precious
stones, of admirable workmanship. She tried on the ornaments before the mirror, hesitated and
could not make up her mind to part with them, to give them back. She kept asking:
"Haven't you any more?"
"Why, yes. Look further; I don't know what you like."
Suddenly she discovered, in a black satin box, a superb diamond necklace, and her heart
throbbed with an immoderate desire. Her hands trembled as she took it. She fastened it round
her throat, outside her high-necked waist, and was lost in ecstasy at her reflection in the mirror.
Then she asked, hesitating, filled with anxious doubt:
"Will you lend me this, only this?"
"Why, yes, certainly."
She threw her arms round her friend's neck, kissed her passionately, then fled with her treasure.
The night of the ball arrived. Madame Loisel was a great success. She was prettier than any
other woman present, elegant, graceful, smiling and wild with joy. All the men looked at her,
asked her name, sought to be introduced. All the attaches of the Cabinet wished to waltz with
her. She was remarked by the minister himself.
She danced with rapture, with passion, intoxicated by pleasure, forgetting all in the triumph of
her beauty, in the glory of her success, in a sort of cloud of happiness comprised of all this
homage, admiration, these awakened desires and of that sense of triumph which is so sweet to
woman's heart.
She left the ball about four o'clock in the morning. Her husband had been sleeping since
midnight in a little deserted anteroom with three other gentlemen whose wives were enjoying
the ball.
He threw over her shoulders the wraps he had brought, the modest wraps of common life, the
poverty of which contrasted with the elegance of the ball dress. She felt this and wished to
escape so as not to be remarked by the other women, who were enveloping themselves in costly
furs.
Loisel held her back, saying: "Wait a bit. You will catch cold outside. I will call a cab."
But she did not listen to him and rapidly descended the stairs. When they reached the street they
could not find a carriage and began to look for one, shouting after the cabmen passing at a
distance.
They went toward the Seine in despair, shivering with cold. At last they found on the quay one
of those ancient night cabs which, as though they were ashamed to show their shabbiness during
the day, are never seen round Paris until after dark.
It took them to their dwelling in the Rue des Martyrs, and sadly they mounted the stairs to their
flat. All was ended for her. As to him, he reflected that he must be at the ministry at ten o'clock
that morning.
She removed her wraps before the glass so as to see herself once more in all her glory. But
suddenly she uttered a cry. She no longer had the necklace around her neck!
"What is the matter with you?" demanded her husband, already half undressed.
She turned distractedly toward him.
"I have--I have--I've lost Madame Forestier's necklace," she cried.
He stood up, bewildered.
"What!--how? Impossible!"
They looked among the folds of her skirt, of her cloak, in her pockets, everywhere, but did not
find it.
"You're sure you had it on when you left the ball?" he asked.
"Yes, I felt it in the vestibule of the minister's house."
"But if you had lost it in the street we should have heard it fall. It must be in the cab."
"Yes, probably. Did you take his number?"
"No. And you--didn't you notice it?"
"No."
They looked, thunderstruck, at each other. At last Loisel put on his clothes.
"I shall go back on foot," said he, "over the whole route, to see whether I can find it."
He went out. She sat waiting on a chair in her ball dress, without strength to go to bed,
overwhelmed, without any fire, without a thought.
Her husband returned about seven o'clock. He had found nothing.
He went to police headquarters, to the newspaper offices to offer a reward; he went to the cab
companies--everywhere, in fact, whither he was urged by the least spark of hope.
She waited all day, in the same condition of mad fear before this terrible calamity.
Loisel returned at night with a hollow, pale face. He had discovered nothing.
"You must write to your friend," said he, "that you have broken the clasp of her necklace and
that you are having it mended. That will give us time to turn round."
She wrote at his dictation.
At the end of a week they had lost all hope. Loisel, who had aged five years, declared:
"We must consider how to replace that ornament."
The next day they took the box that had contained it and went to the jeweler whose name was
found within. He consulted his books.
"It was not I, madame, who sold that necklace; I must simply have furnished the case."
Then they went from jeweler to jeweler, searching for a necklace like the other, trying to recall
it, both sick with chagrin and grief.
They found, in a shop at the Palais Royal, a string of diamonds that seemed to them exactly like
the one they had lost. It was worth forty thousand francs. They could have it for thirty-six.
So they begged the jeweler not to sell it for three days yet. And they made a bargain that he
should buy it back for thirty-four thousand francs, in case they should find the lost necklace
before the end of February.
Loisel possessed eighteen thousand francs which his father had left him. He would borrow the
rest.
He did borrow, asking a thousand francs of one, five hundred of another, five louis here, three
louis there. He gave notes, took up ruinous obligations, dealt with usurers and all the race of
lenders. He compromised all the rest of his life, risked signing a note without even knowing
whether he could meet it; and, frightened by the trouble yet to come, by the black misery that
was about to fall upon him, by the prospect of all the physical privations and moral tortures that
he was to suffer, he went to get the new necklace, laying upon the jeweler's counter thirty-six
thousand francs.
When Madame Loisel took back the necklace Madame Forestier said to her with a chilly
manner:
"You should have returned it sooner; I might have needed it."
She did not open the case, as her friend had so much feared. If she had detected the substitution,
what would she have thought, what would she have said? Would she not have taken Madame
Loisel for a thief?
Thereafter Madame Loisel knew the horrible existence of the needy. She bore her part,
however, with sudden heroism. That dreadful debt must be paid. She would pay it. They
dismissed their servant; they changed their lodgings; they rented a garret under the roof.
She came to know what heavy housework meant and the odious cares of the kitchen. She
washed the dishes, using her dainty fingers and rosy nails on greasy pots and pans. She washed
the soiled linen, the shirts and the dishcloths, which she dried upon a line; she carried the slops
down to the street every morning and carried up the water, stopping for breath at every landing.
And dressed like a woman of the people, she went to the fruiterer, the grocer, the butcher, a
basket on her arm, bargaining, meeting with impertinence, defending her miserable money, sou
by sou.
Every month they had to meet some notes, renew others, obtain more time.
Her husband worked evenings, making up a tradesman's accounts, and late at night he often
copied manuscript for five sous a page.
This life lasted ten years.
At the end of ten years they had paid everything, everything, with the rates of usury and the
accumulations of the compound interest.
Madame Loisel looked old now. She had become the woman of impoverished households--
strong and hard and rough. With frowsy hair, skirts askew and red hands, she talked loud while
washing the floor with great swishes of water. But sometimes, when her husband was at the
office, she sat down near the window and she thought of that gay evening of long ago, of that
ball where she had been so beautiful and so admired.
What would have happened if she had not lost that necklace? Who knows? who knows? How
strange and changeful is life! How small a thing is needed to make or ruin us!
But one Sunday, having gone to take a walk in the Champs Elysees to refresh herself after the
labors of the week, she suddenly perceived a woman who was leading a child. It was Madame
Forestier, still young, still beautiful, still charming.
Madame Loisel felt moved. Should she speak to her? Yes, certainly. And now that she had paid,
she would tell her all about it. Why not?
She went up.
"Good-day, Jeanne."
The other, astonished to be familiarly addressed by this plain good-wife, did not recognize her
at all and stammered:
"But--madame!--I do not know---- You must have mistaken."
"No. I am Mathilda Loisel."
Her friend uttered a cry.
"Oh, my poor Mathilda! How you are changed!"
"Yes, I have had a pretty hard life, since I last saw you, and great poverty--and that because of
you!"
"Of me! How so?"
"Do you remember that diamond necklace you lent me to wear at the ministerial ball?"
"Yes. Well?"
"Well, I lost it."
"What do you mean? You brought it back."
"I brought you back another exactly like it. And it has taken us ten years to pay for it. You can
understand that it was not easy for us, for us who had nothing. At last it is ended, and I am very
glad."
Madame Forestier had stopped.
"You say that you bought a necklace of diamonds to replace mine?"
"Yes. You never noticed it, then! They were very similar."
And she smiled with a joy that was at once proud and ingenuous.
Madame Forestier, deeply moved, took her hands.
"Oh, my poor Mathilda! Why, my necklace was paste! It was worth at most only five hundred
francs!"
 Guy de Maupassant (1850-1893)

Guy de Maupassant was a 19th-century French author, remembered as a master

of the short story form, and as a representative of the Naturalist school, who
depicted human lives and destinies and social forces in disillusioned and often
pessimistic terms. He also wrote realistic stories reflecting the life in France in the
19th century.
Maupassant was a protégé of Gustave Flaubert and his stories are characterized
by economy of style and efficient, seemingly effortless dénouements (outcomes).
Many are set during the Franco-Prussian War of the 1870s, describing the futility
of war and the innocent civilians who, caught up in events beyond their control,
are permanently changed by their experiences. He wrote 300 short stories, six
novels, three travel books, and one volume of verse. His first published story,
"Boule de Suif" ("The Dumpling", 1880), is often considered his masterpiece.
Maupassant is considered a father of the modern short story. Literary theorist
Kornelije Kvas wrote that along "with Chekhov, Maupassant is the greatest master
of the short story in world literature. He is not a naturalist like Zola; to him,
physiological processes do not constitute the basis of human actions, although the
influence of the environment is manifested in his prose. In many respects,
Maupassant’s naturalism is Schopenhauerian anthropological pessimism, as he is
often harsh and merciless when it comes to depicting human nature. He owes most
to Flaubert, from whom he learned to use a concise and measured style and to
establish a distance towards the object of narration." He delighted in clever
plotting, and served as a model for Somerset Maugham and O’Henry in this
respect. One of his famous short stories, "The Necklace" (1884), was imitated
with a twist by both Maugham ("Mr Know-All", "A String of Beads") and Henry
James ("Paste").

“THE NECKLACE” (1884)

By Guy de Maupassant

The girl was one of those pretty and charming young creatures who sometimes are born, as if
by a slip of fate, into a family of clerks. She had no dowry, no expectations, no way of being
known, understood, loved, married by any rich and distinguished man; so she let herself be
married to a little clerk of the Ministry of Public Instruction.

She dressed plainly because she could not dress well, but she was unhappy as if she had really
fallen from a higher station; since with women there is neither caste nor rank, for beauty, grace
and charm take the place of family and birth. Natural ingenuity, instinct for what is elegant, a
supple mind are their sole hierarchy, and often make of women of the people the equals of the
very greatest ladies.
Mathilda suffered ceaselessly, feeling herself born to enjoy all delicacies and all luxuries. She
was distressed at the poverty of her dwelling, at the bareness of the walls, at the shabby chairs,
the ugliness of the curtains. All those things, of which another woman of her rank would never
even have been conscious, tortured her and made her angry. The sight of the little Breton
peasant who did her humble housework aroused in her despairing regrets and bewildering
dreams. She thought of silent antechambers hung with Oriental tapestry, illuminated by tall
bronze candelabra, and of two great footmen in knee breeches who sleep in the big armchairs,
made drowsy by the oppressive heat of the stove. She thought of long reception halls hung with
ancient silk, of the dainty cabinets containing priceless curiosities and of the little coquettish
perfumed reception rooms made for chatting at five o'clock with intimate friends, with men
famous and sought after, whom all women envy and whose attention they all desire.
When she sat down to dinner, before the round table covered with a tablecloth in use three days,
opposite her husband, who uncovered the soup tureen and declared with a delighted air, "Ah,
the good soup! I don't know anything better than that," she thought of dainty dinners, of shining
silverware, of tapestry that peopled the walls with ancient personages and with strange birds
flying in the midst of a fairy forest; and she thought of delicious dishes served on marvellous
plates and of the whispered gallantries to which you listen with a sphinxlike smile while you
are eating the pink meat of a trout or the wings of a quail.
She had no gowns, no jewels, nothing. And she loved nothing but that. She felt made for that.
She would have liked so much to please, to be envied, to be charming, to be sought after.
She had a friend, a former schoolmate at the convent, who was rich, and whom she did not like
to go to see any more because she felt so sad when she came home.
But one evening her husband reached home with a triumphant air and holding a large envelope
in his hand.
 Guy de Maupassant (1850-1893)

Guy de Maupassant was a 19th-century French author, remembered as a master

of the short story form, and as a representative of the Naturalist school, who
depicted human lives and destinies and social forces in disillusioned and often
pessimistic terms. He also wrote realistic stories reflecting the life in France in the
19th century.
Maupassant was a protégé of Gustave Flaubert and his stories are characterized
by economy of style and efficient, seemingly effortless dénouements (outcomes).
Many are set during the Franco-Prussian War of the 1870s, describing the futility
of war and the innocent civilians who, caught up in events beyond their control,
are permanently changed by their experiences. He wrote 300 short stories, six
novels, three travel books, and one volume of verse. His first published story,
"Boule de Suif" ("The Dumpling", 1880), is often considered his masterpiece.
Maupassant is considered a father of the modern short story. Literary theorist
Kornelije Kvas wrote that along "with Chekhov, Maupassant is the greatest master
of the short story in world literature. He is not a naturalist like Zola; to him,
physiological processes do not constitute the basis of human actions, although the
influence of the environment is manifested in his prose. In many respects,
Maupassant’s naturalism is Schopenhauerian anthropological pessimism, as he is
often harsh and merciless when it comes to depicting human nature. He owes most
to Flaubert, from whom he learned to use a concise and measured style and to
establish a distance towards the object of narration." He delighted in clever
plotting, and served as a model for Somerset Maugham and O’Henry in this
respect. One of his famous short stories, "The Necklace" (1884), was imitated
with a twist by both Maugham ("Mr Know-All", "A String of Beads") and Henry
James ("Paste").

“THE NECKLACE” (1884)

By Guy de Maupassant

The girl was one of those pretty and charming young creatures who sometimes are born, as if
by a slip of fate, into a family of clerks. She had no dowry, no expectations, no way of being
known, understood, loved, married by any rich and distinguished man; so she let herself be
married to a little clerk of the Ministry of Public Instruction.

She dressed plainly because she could not dress well, but she was unhappy as if she had really
fallen from a higher station; since with women there is neither caste nor rank, for beauty, grace
and charm take the place of family and birth. Natural ingenuity, instinct for what is elegant, a
supple mind are their sole hierarchy, and often make of women of the people the equals of the
very greatest ladies.
Mathilda suffered ceaselessly, feeling herself born to enjoy all delicacies and all luxuries. She
was distressed at the poverty of her dwelling, at the bareness of the walls, at the shabby chairs,
the ugliness of the curtains. All those things, of which another woman of her rank would never
even have been conscious, tortured her and made her angry. The sight of the little Breton
peasant who did her humble housework aroused in her despairing regrets and bewildering
dreams. She thought of silent antechambers hung with Oriental tapestry, illuminated by tall
bronze candelabra, and of two great footmen in knee breeches who sleep in the big armchairs,
made drowsy by the oppressive heat of the stove. She thought of long reception halls hung with
ancient silk, of the dainty cabinets containing priceless curiosities and of the little coquettish
perfumed reception rooms made for chatting at five o'clock with intimate friends, with men
famous and sought after, whom all women envy and whose attention they all desire.
When she sat down to dinner, before the round table covered with a tablecloth in use three days,
opposite her husband, who uncovered the soup tureen and declared with a delighted air, "Ah,
the good soup! I don't know anything better than that," she thought of dainty dinners, of shining
silverware, of tapestry that peopled the walls with ancient personages and with strange birds
flying in the midst of a fairy forest; and she thought of delicious dishes served on marvellous
plates and of the whispered gallantries to which you listen with a sphinxlike smile while you
are eating the pink meat of a trout or the wings of a quail.
She had no gowns, no jewels, nothing. And she loved nothing but that. She felt made for that.
She would have liked so much to please, to be envied, to be charming, to be sought after.
She had a friend, a former schoolmate at the convent, who was rich, and whom she did not like
to go to see any more because she felt so sad when she came home.
But one evening her husband reached home with a triumphant air and holding a large envelope
in his hand.
"There," said he, "there is something for you."
She tore the paper quickly and drew out a printed card which bore these words:

The Minister of Public Instruction and Madame Georges Ramponneau request the honor of
M. and Madame Loisel's company at the palace of the Ministry on Monday evening, January
18th.
Instead of being delighted, as her husband had hoped, she threw the invitation on the table
crossly, muttering:
"What do you wish me to do with that?"
"Why, my dear, I thought you would be glad. You never go out, and this is such a fine
opportunity. I had great trouble to get it. Everyone wants to go; it is very select, and they are
not giving many invitations to clerks. The whole official world will be there."
She looked at him with an irritated glance and said impatiently:
"And what do you wish me to put on my back?"
He had not thought of that. He stammered:
"Why, the gown you go to the theatre in. It looks very well to me."
He stopped, distracted, seeing that his wife was weeping. Two great tears ran slowly from the
corners of her eyes toward the corners of her mouth.
"What's the matter? What's the matter?" he answered.
By a violent effort she conquered her grief and replied in a calm voice, while she wiped her wet
cheeks:
"Nothing. Only I have no gown, and, therefore, I can't go to this ball. Give your card to some
colleague whose wife is better equipped than I am."
He was in despair. He resumed:
"Come, let us see, Mathilda. How much would it cost, a suitable gown, which you could use on
other occasions – something very simple?"
She reflected several seconds, making her calculations and wondering also what sum she could
ask without drawing on herself an immediate refusal and a frightened exclamation from the
economical clerk.
Finally she replied hesitating:
"I don't know exactly, but I think I could manage it with four hundred francs."
He grew a little pale, because he was laying aside just that amount to buy a gun and treat himself
to a little shooting next summer on the plain of Nanterre, with several friends who went to shoot
larks there of a Sunday.
But he said:
"Very well. I will give you four hundred francs. And try to have a pretty gown."
The day of the ball drew near and Madame Loisel seemed sad, uneasy, anxious. Her frock was
ready, however. Her husband said to her one evening:
"What is the matter? Come, you have seemed very queer these last three days."
And she answered:
"It annoys me not to have a single piece of jewelry, not a single ornament, nothing to put on. I
shall look poverty-stricken. I would almost rather not go at all."
"You might wear natural flowers," said her husband. "They're very stylish at this time of year.
For ten francs you can get two or three magnificent roses."
She was not convinced.
"No; there's nothing more humiliating than to look poor among other women who are rich."
"How stupid you are!" her husband cried. "Go look up your friend, Madame Forestier, and ask
her to lend you some jewels. You're intimate enough with her to do that."
She uttered a cry of joy:
"True! I never thought of it."
The next day she went to her friend and told her of her distress.
Madame Forestier went to a wardrobe with a mirror, took out a large jewel box, brought it back,
opened it and said to Madame Loisel:
"Choose, my dear."
She saw first some bracelets, then a pearl necklace, then a Venetian gold cross set with precious
stones, of admirable workmanship. She tried on the ornaments before the mirror, hesitated and
could not make up her mind to part with them, to give them back. She kept asking:
"Haven't you any more?"
"Why, yes. Look further; I don't know what you like."
Suddenly she discovered, in a black satin box, a superb diamond necklace, and her heart
throbbed with an immoderate desire. Her hands trembled as she took it. She fastened it round
her throat, outside her high-necked waist, and was lost in ecstasy at her reflection in the mirror.
Then she asked, hesitating, filled with anxious doubt:
"Will you lend me this, only this?"
"Why, yes, certainly."
She threw her arms round her friend's neck, kissed her passionately, then fled with her treasure.
The night of the ball arrived. Madame Loisel was a great success. She was prettier than any
other woman present, elegant, graceful, smiling and wild with joy. All the men looked at her,
asked her name, sought to be introduced. All the attaches of the Cabinet wished to waltz with
her. She was remarked by the minister himself.
She danced with rapture, with passion, intoxicated by pleasure, forgetting all in the triumph of
her beauty, in the glory of her success, in a sort of cloud of happiness comprised of all this
homage, admiration, these awakened desires and of that sense of triumph which is so sweet to
woman's heart.
She left the ball about four o'clock in the morning. Her husband had been sleeping since
midnight in a little deserted anteroom with three other gentlemen whose wives were enjoying
the ball.
He threw over her shoulders the wraps he had brought, the modest wraps of common life, the
poverty of which contrasted with the elegance of the ball dress. She felt this and wished to
escape so as not to be remarked by the other women, who were enveloping themselves in costly
furs.
Loisel held her back, saying: "Wait a bit. You will catch cold outside. I will call a cab."
But she did not listen to him and rapidly descended the stairs. When they reached the street they
could not find a carriage and began to look for one, shouting after the cabmen passing at a
distance.
They went toward the Seine in despair, shivering with cold. At last they found on the quay one
of those ancient night cabs which, as though they were ashamed to show their shabbiness during
the day, are never seen round Paris until after dark.
It took them to their dwelling in the Rue des Martyrs, and sadly they mounted the stairs to their
flat. All was ended for her. As to him, he reflected that he must be at the ministry at ten o'clock
that morning.
She removed her wraps before the glass so as to see herself once more in all her glory. But
suddenly she uttered a cry. She no longer had the necklace around her neck!
"What is the matter with you?" demanded her husband, already half undressed.
She turned distractedly toward him.
"I have--I have--I've lost Madame Forestier's necklace," she cried.
He stood up, bewildered.
"What!--how? Impossible!"
They looked among the folds of her skirt, of her cloak, in her pockets, everywhere, but did not
find it.
"You're sure you had it on when you left the ball?" he asked.
"Yes, I felt it in the vestibule of the minister's house."
"But if you had lost it in the street we should have heard it fall. It must be in the cab."
"Yes, probably. Did you take his number?"
"No. And you--didn't you notice it?"
"No."
They looked, thunderstruck, at each other. At last Loisel put on his clothes.
"I shall go back on foot," said he, "over the whole route, to see whether I can find it."
He went out. She sat waiting on a chair in her ball dress, without strength to go to bed,
overwhelmed, without any fire, without a thought.
Her husband returned about seven o'clock. He had found nothing.
He went to police headquarters, to the newspaper offices to offer a reward; he went to the cab
companies--everywhere, in fact, whither he was urged by the least spark of hope.
She waited all day, in the same condition of mad fear before this terrible calamity.
Loisel returned at night with a hollow, pale face. He had discovered nothing.
"You must write to your friend," said he, "that you have broken the clasp of her necklace and
that you are having it mended. That will give us time to turn round."
She wrote at his dictation.
At the end of a week they had lost all hope. Loisel, who had aged five years, declared:
"We must consider how to replace that ornament."
The next day they took the box that had contained it and went to the jeweler whose name was
found within. He consulted his books.
"It was not I, madame, who sold that necklace; I must simply have furnished the case."
Then they went from jeweler to jeweler, searching for a necklace like the other, trying to recall
it, both sick with chagrin and grief.
They found, in a shop at the Palais Royal, a string of diamonds that seemed to them exactly like
the one they had lost. It was worth forty thousand francs. They could have it for thirty-six.
So they begged the jeweler not to sell it for three days yet. And they made a bargain that he
should buy it back for thirty-four thousand francs, in case they should find the lost necklace
before the end of February.
Loisel possessed eighteen thousand francs which his father had left him. He would borrow the
rest.
He did borrow, asking a thousand francs of one, five hundred of another, five louis here, three
louis there. He gave notes, took up ruinous obligations, dealt with usurers and all the race of
lenders. He compromised all the rest of his life, risked signing a note without even knowing
whether he could meet it; and, frightened by the trouble yet to come, by the black misery that
was about to fall upon him, by the prospect of all the physical privations and moral tortures that
he was to suffer, he went to get the new necklace, laying upon the jeweler's counter thirty-six
thousand francs.
When Madame Loisel took back the necklace Madame Forestier said to her with a chilly
manner:
"You should have returned it sooner; I might have needed it."
She did not open the case, as her friend had so much feared. If she had detected the substitution,
what would she have thought, what would she have said? Would she not have taken Madame
Loisel for a thief?
Thereafter Madame Loisel knew the horrible existence of the needy. She bore her part,
however, with sudden heroism. That dreadful debt must be paid. She would pay it. They
dismissed their servant; they changed their lodgings; they rented a garret under the roof.
She came to know what heavy housework meant and the odious cares of the kitchen. She
washed the dishes, using her dainty fingers and rosy nails on greasy pots and pans. She washed
the soiled linen, the shirts and the dishcloths, which she dried upon a line; she carried the slops
down to the street every morning and carried up the water, stopping for breath at every landing.
And dressed like a woman of the people, she went to the fruiterer, the grocer, the butcher, a
basket on her arm, bargaining, meeting with impertinence, defending her miserable money, sou
by sou.
Every month they had to meet some notes, renew others, obtain more time.
Her husband worked evenings, making up a tradesman's accounts, and late at night he often
copied manuscript for five sous a page.
This life lasted ten years.
At the end of ten years they had paid everything, everything, with the rates of usury and the
accumulations of the compound interest.
Madame Loisel looked old now. She had become the woman of impoverished households--
strong and hard and rough. With frowsy hair, skirts askew and red hands, she talked loud while
washing the floor with great swishes of water. But sometimes, when her husband was at the
office, she sat down near the window and she thought of that gay evening of long ago, of that
ball where she had been so beautiful and so admired.
What would have happened if she had not lost that necklace? Who knows? who knows? How
strange and changeful is life! How small a thing is needed to make or ruin us!
But one Sunday, having gone to take a walk in the Champs Elysees to refresh herself after the
labors of the week, she suddenly perceived a woman who was leading a child. It was Madame
Forestier, still young, still beautiful, still charming.
Madame Loisel felt moved. Should she speak to her? Yes, certainly. And now that she had paid,
she would tell her all about it. Why not?
She went up.
"Good-day, Jeanne."
The other, astonished to be familiarly addressed by this plain good-wife, did not recognize her
at all and stammered:
"But--madame!--I do not know---- You must have mistaken."
"No. I am Mathilda Loisel."
Her friend uttered a cry.
"Oh, my poor Mathilda! How you are changed!"
"Yes, I have had a pretty hard life, since I last saw you, and great poverty--and that because of
you!"
"Of me! How so?"
"Do you remember that diamond necklace you lent me to wear at the ministerial ball?"
"Yes. Well?"
"Well, I lost it."
"What do you mean? You brought it back."
"I brought you back another exactly like it. And it has taken us ten years to pay for it. You can
understand that it was not easy for us, for us who had nothing. At last it is ended, and I am very
glad."
Madame Forestier had stopped.
"You say that you bought a necklace of diamonds to replace mine?"
"Yes. You never noticed it, then! They were very similar."
And she smiled with a joy that was at once proud and ingenuous.
Madame Forestier, deeply moved, took her hands.
"Oh, my poor Mathilda! Why, my necklace was paste! It was worth at most only five hundred
francs!"

The Plot of “The Necklace”

Madame Mathilde Loisel has always imagined herself an aristocrat, despite being
born into a family of clerks (which she describes as an "accident of fate"). Her
husband is a low-paid clerk who tries his best to make her happy but has little to
give. Still, the young couple can afford the services of a young Breton girl as a
servant. After much effort, he secures for them an invitation to a ball sponsored
by the Ministry of Education.
Madame Loisel refuses to go, for she has nothing to wear and wishes not to be
embarrassed. Upset at her displeasure, Loisel gives her 400 francs – all the money
he had been saving to go hunting with his friends – so she can buy a dress. Even
after Madame Loisel does so, she is still unhappy because she has no jewels to
wear with it. She spurns Loisel's idea of wearing fresh flowers instead, but takes
his suggestion to borrow some jewelry from her friend, Madame Jeanne Forestier.
She borrows a diamond necklace as her only ornamentation.
Madame Loisel enjoys herself at the ball, dancing with influential men and
reveling in their admiration. Once she and Loisel return home, though, she
discovers that she has lost Jeanne's necklace. Unable to find it or anyone who
knows where it might have gone, they resign themselves to buying a replacement.
At the Palais-Royal shops, they find a similar necklace priced at 40,000 francs
and bargain for it, eventually settling at 36,000. Loisel uses an inheritance from
his father to cover half the cost and borrows the rest at high interest. Madame
Loisel gives the necklace to Jeanne without mentioning the loss of the original,
and Jeanne does not notice the difference.
Mr. Loisel and Madame Loisel live in poverty for ten years, with him taking on
night work as a copier to earn extra money and her sacrificing her beauty to do
household chores on her own, while constantly bargaining with the clerks and
vegetable sellers. They gave up their servant, and have moved to a poor apartment
up many stairs. After all the loans are paid off, Madame Loisel encounters Jeanne
on the Champs-Élysées, but Jeanne barely recognizes her due to her shabby
clothing and unkempt appearance. Jeanne is also accompanied by her young
daughter, of which little mention is made except by inference as the Loisels have
no children. Madam Loisel tells Jeanne about the loss and replacement of the
necklace and of the hard times she has endured on Jeanne's account. She blames
her former friend for the past miserable 10 years. Jeanne reveals that the necklace
she lent to Madame Loisel had contained fake diamonds and was worth no more
than 500 francs.
 Analysis of “The Necklace”

1. Plot Overview
Mathilde Loisel is “pretty and charming” but feels she has been born into a family of
unfavorable economic status. She was married off to a lowly clerk in the Ministry of Education,
who can afford to provide her only with a modest though not uncomfortable lifestyle. Mathilde
feels the burden of her poverty intensely. She regrets her lot in life and spends endless hours
imagining a more extravagant existence. While her husband expresses his pleasure at the small,
modest supper she has prepared for him, she dreams of an elaborate feast served on fancy china
and eaten in the company of wealthy friends. She possesses no fancy jewels or clothing, yet
these are the only things she lives for. Without them, she feels she is not desirable. She has one
wealthy friend, Madame Forestier, but refuses to visit her because of the heartbreak it brings
her.
One night, her husband returns home proudly bearing an invitation to a formal party hosted by
the Ministry of Education. He hopes that Mathilde will be thrilled with the chance to attend an
event of this sort, but she is instantly angry and begins to cry. Through her tears, she tells him
that she has nothing to wear and he ought to give the invitation to one of his friends whose wife
can afford better clothing. Her husband is upset by her reaction and asks how much a suitable
dress would cost. She thinks about it carefully and tells him that 400 francs would be enough.
Her husband quietly balks at the sum but agrees that she may have the money.
As the day of the party approaches, Mathilde starts to behave oddly. She confesses that the
reason for her behavior is her lack of jewels. Monsieur Loisel suggests that she wear flowers,
but she refuses. He implores her to visit Madame Forestier and borrow something from her.
Madame Forestier agrees to lend Mathilde her jewels, and Mathilde selects a diamond necklace.
She is overcome with gratitude at Madame Forestier’s generosity.
At the party, Mathilde is the most beautiful woman in attendance, and everyone notices her.
She is intoxicated by the attention and has an overwhelming sense of self-satisfaction. At 4 a.m.,
she finally looks for Monsieur Loisel, who has been dozing for hours in a deserted room. He
cloaks her bare shoulders in a wrap and cautions her to wait inside, away from the cold night
air, while he fetches a cab. But she is ashamed at the shabbiness of her wrap and follows
Monsieur Loisel outside. They walk for a while before hailing a cab.
When they finally return home, Mathilde is saddened that the night has ended. As she removes
her wrap, she discovers that her necklace is no longer around her neck. In a panic, Monsieur
Loisel goes outside and retraces their steps. Terrified, she sits and waits for him. He returns
home much later in an even greater panic—he has not found the necklace. He instructs her to
write to Madame Forestier and say that she has broken the clasp of the necklace and is getting
it mended.
They continue to look for the necklace. After a week, Monsieur Loisel says they have to see
about replacing it. They visit many jewelers, searching for a similar necklace, and finally find
one. It costs 40,000 francs, although the jeweler says he will give it to them for 36,000. The
Loisels spend a week scraping up money from all kinds of sources, mortgaging the rest of their
existence. After three days, Monsieur Loisel purchases the necklace. When Mathilde returns
the necklace, in its case, to Madame Forestier, Madame Forestier is annoyed at how long it has
taken to get it back but does not open the case to inspect it. Mathilde is relieved.
The Loisels began to live a life of crippling poverty. They dismiss their servant and move into
an even smaller apartment. Monsieur Loisel works three jobs, and Mathilde spends all her time
doing the heavy housework. This misery lasts ten years, but at the end they have repaid their
financial debts. Mathilde’s extraordinary beauty is now gone: she looks just like the other
women of poor households. They are both tired and irrevocably damaged from these years of
hardship.
One Sunday, while she is out for a walk, Mathilde spots Madame Forestier. Feeling emotional,
she approaches her and offers greetings. Madame Forestier does not recognize her, and when
Mathilde identifies herself, Madame Forestier cannot help but exclaim that she looks different.
Mathilde says that the change was on her account and explains to her the long saga of losing
the necklace, replacing it, and working for ten years to repay the debts. At the end of her story,
Madame Forestier clasps her hands and tells Mathilde the original necklace was just costume
jewelry and not worth anything.

2. Realism
Maupaussant, like his mentor, Flaubert, believed that fiction should convey reality with as much
accuracy as possible. He strived for objectivity rather than psychological exploration or
romantic descriptions, preferring to structure his stories and novels around clearly defined plot
lines and specific, observable details. However, he argued that calling fiction “realistic” was
not correct—every work of fiction, he believed, was an illusion, a world created by a writer to
convey a particular effect to readers. He was faithful above all to the facts and believed that
close, focused observation could reveal new depths and perspectives to even the most common,
unremarkable aspects of life. “The Necklace” clearly demonstrates Maupassant’s fixation with
facts and observations.
Rather than explore Mathilde’s yearning for wealth or unhappiness with her life, Maupaussant
simply tells us about her unhappiness and all the things she desires. At the end of the story, he
provides no moral commentary or explanation about Mathilde’s reaction to Madame Forestier’s
shocking revelation; he simply reports events as they happen.There is no pretense, idealizing,
or artifice to Maupaussant’s prose or treatment of his characters.
Realism began in France in the mid nineteenth century and rejected the tenets from the romantic
movement that came before it, a literary movement that emphasized the idealization of
characters rather than realistic portrayal of them. Realist literature often focused on middle-
class life—such as the tragic lives of Mathilde and her husband—and was most concerned with
portraying actions and their consequences with little or no subjectivity. Social factors and
cultural environment are often powerful forces in realist literature, as are elements of
rationalism and scientific reasoning. Flaubert was one of the earliest practitioners of realism, as
typified by his novels Madame Bovary (1857) and Sentimental Education (1869). Realism was
also an influential artistic school that included French painters such as Gustave Courbet, Edgar
Degas, and Éduard Manet.

3. Character List
Mathilde Loisel - The protagonist of the story. Mathilde has been blessed with physical beauty
but not with the affluent lifestyle she yearns for, and she feels deeply discontented with her lot
in life. When she prepares to attend a fancy party, she borrows a diamond necklace from her
friend Madame Forestier, then loses the necklace and must work for ten years to pay off a
replacement. Her one night of radiance cost her and Monsieur Loisel any chance for future
happiness.
Beautiful Mathilde Loisel was born into a family of clerks, and her utter conviction that her
station in life is a mistake of destiny leads her to live her life in a constant rebellion against her
circumstances. Although she has a comfortable home and loving husband, she is so unsatisfied
that she is virtually oblivious of everything but the wealth she does not have. Her desire for
wealth is a constant pain and turmoil. She cannot visit her wealthy friend Madame Forestier
without being overcome with jealousy, and the idea of going to a party without expensive
clothes drives her to tears. Mathilde is a raging, jealous woman who will do anything in her
power to reverse the “mistake of destiny” that has plunged her into what she perceives as a
wholly inappropriate and inadequate life.
Mathilde is happy at only one point in “The Necklace”: on the night of the party, when her new
dress and borrowed jewels give her the appearance of belonging to the wealthy world she
aspires to. Fully at ease among the wealthy people at the party, Mathilde feels that this is exactly
where she was meant to be—if it hadn’t been for the mistake of destiny. She forgets her old life
completely (her husband dozes in an empty room for most of the night) and immerses herself
in the illusion of a new one. Her moment of happiness, of course, is fleeting, and she must spend
the next ten years paying for the pleasure of this night. However, her joy was so acute—and her
satisfaction, for once, so complete—that even the ten arduous years and her compromised
beauty do not dull the party’s memory. Just as Mathilde was oblivious to the small pleasures
that her life once afforded her, she is oblivious to the fact that her greed and deception are what
finally sealed her fate.
Monsieur Loisel - Mathilde’s husband. Monsieur Loisel is content with the small pleasures of
his life but does his best to appease Mathilde’s demands and assuage her complaints. He loves
Mathilde immensely but does not truly understand her, and he seems to underestimate the depth
of her unhappiness. When Mathilde loses the necklace, Monsieur Loisel sacrifices his own
future to help her repay the debt. He pays dearly for something he had never wanted in the first
place.
Monsieur Loisel
Monsieur Loisel’s acceptance and contentment differ considerably from Mathilde’s emotional
outbursts and constant dissatisfaction, and although he never fully understands his wife, he does
his best to please her. When he comes home bearing the invitation to the party, he expects
Mathilde to be excited and is shocked when she is devastated. He cannot understand why
Mathilde will not wear flowers to the party in lieu of expensive jewelry—in his view, that they
cannot afford expensive jewelry is simply a fact of their life, not something to be railed against.
When Monsieur Loisel tries to appease Mathilde, he does so blindly, wanting only to make her
happy. When she declares that she cannot attend the party because she has nothing to wear, he
gives her money to purchase a dress. While she complains she has no proper jewelry, he urges
her to visit Madame Forestier to borrow some. When she dances all night at the party, he dozes
in a coat room and allows her to enjoy herself.
Monsieur Loisel’s eagerness and willingness to please Mathilde becomes his downfall when
she loses the necklace. He is the one to venture back into the cold night to search for the necklace
in the streets, even though he is already undressed and has to be at work in a few short hours.
He is the one who devises a plan for purchasing a replacement necklace and orchestrates the
loans and mortgages that help them pay for it. Although this decision costs him ten years of
hard work, he does not complain or imagine an alternate fate. It is as though his desires do not
even exist—or, at the very least, his desires are meaningless if they stand in the way of
Mathilde’s. The money he gives her for a dress had been earmarked for a gun, but he sacrifices
this desire without a word—just as he mutely sacrifices any hope of happiness after he buys the
necklace. Rather than force Mathilde to be accountable for her actions, he protects her,
ultimately giving up his life so that she can relish her one moment of well-dressed happiness.
Madame Forestier - Mathilde’s wealthy friend. Madame Forestier treats Mathilde kindly, but
Mathilde is bitterly jealous of Madame Forestier’s wealth, and the kindness pains her. Madame
Forestier lends Mathilde the necklace for the party and does not inspect it when Mathilde returns
it. She is horrified to realize that Mathilde has wasted her life trying to pay for a replacement
necklace, when the original necklace had actually been worth nothing.
4. Themes
The Deceptiveness of Appearances
The reality of Mathilde’s situation is that she is neither wealthy nor part of the social class of
which she feels she is a deserving member, but Mathilde does everything in her power to make
her life appear different from how it is. She lives in an illusory world where her actual life does
not match the ideal life she has in her head—she believes that her beauty and charm make her
worthy of greater things. The party is a triumph because for the first time, her appearance
matches the reality of her life. She is prettier than the other women, sought after by the men,
and generally admired and flattered by all. Her life, in the few short hours of the party, is as she
feels it should be. However, beneath this rightness and seeming match of appearances and
reality is the truth that her appearance took a great deal of scheming and work. The bliss of her
evening was not achieved without angst, and the reality of her appearance is much different
than it seems. Her wealth and class are simply illusions, and other people are easily deceived.
The deceptiveness of appearances is highlighted by Madame Forestier’s necklace, which
appears to be made of diamonds but is actually nothing more than costume jewelry. The fact
that it comes from Madame Forestier’s jewelry box gives it the illusion of richness and value;
had Monsieur Loisel suggested that Mathilde wear fake jewels, she surely would have scoffed
at the idea, just as she scoffed at his suggestion to wear flowers. Furthermore, the fact that
Madame Forestier—in Mathilde’s view, the epitome of class and wealth—has a necklace made
of fake jewels suggests that even the wealthiest members of society pretend to have more wealth
than they actually have. Both women are ultimately deceived by appearances: Madame
Forestier does not tell Mathilde that the diamonds are fake, and Mathilde does not tell Madame
Forestier that she has replaced the necklace. The fact that the necklace changes—unnoticed—
from worthless to precious suggests that true value is ultimately dependent on perception and
that appearances can easily deceive.
The Danger of Martyrdom
Mathilde’s perception of herself as a martyr
leads her to take unwise, self-serving actions. The Loisels live, appropriately, on the Rue des
Martyrs, and Mathilde feels she must suffer through a life that is well beneath what she
deserves. Unable to appreciate any aspect of her life, including her devoted husband, she is
pained by her feeling that her beauty and charm are being wasted. When Mathilde loses the
necklace and sacrifices the next ten years of her life to pay back the debts she incurred from
buying a replacement, her feeling of being a martyr intensifies. She undertakes the hard work
with grim determination, behaving more like a martyr than ever before. Her beauty is once
again being wasted; this work eventually erases it completely. Her lot in life has gotten worse,
and Mathilde continues to believe she has gotten less than she deserves, never acknowledging
the fact that she is responsible for her own fate. Her belief in her martyrdom is, in a way, the
only thing she has left. When Madame Forestier reveals that the necklace was worthless,
Mathilde’s sacrifices also become worthless, and her status as a martyr—however dubious—is
taken away entirely. At the end of the story, Mathilde is left with nothing.
Whereas Mathilde sees herself as a martyr but is actually very far from it, Monsieur Loisel
himself is truly a martyr, constantly sacrificing his desires and, ultimately, his well-being for
Mathilde’s sake. He gives up his desire for a gun so that Mathilde can buy a dress, and he
uncomplainingly mortgages his future to replace the necklace Mathilde loses. Forced to
sacrifice his happiness and years of his life to accommodate Mathilde’s selfish desires, he is the
one who truly becomes a martyr.

The Perceived Power of Objects

Mathilde believes that objects have the power to change her life, but when she finally gets two
of the objects she desires most, the dress and necklace, her happiness is fleeting at best. At the
beginning of “The Necklace,” we get a laundry list of all the objects she does not have but that
she feels she deserves. The beautiful objects in other women’s homes and absence of such
objects in her own home make her feel like an outsider, fated to envy other women. The things
she does have—a comfortable home, hot soup, a loving husband—she disdains. Mathilde
effectively relinquishes control of her happiness to objects that she does not even possess, and
her obsession with the trappings of the wealthy leads to her perpetual discontent. When she
finally acquires the dress and necklace, those objects seem to have a transformative power. She
is finally the woman she believes she was meant to be—happy, admired, and envied. She has
gotten what she wanted, and her life has changed accordingly. However, when she loses the
necklace, the dream dissolves instantly, and her life becomes even worse than before. In reality,
the power does not lie with the objects but within herself.
In contrast to Mathilde, Madame Forestier infuses objects with little power. Her wealth enables
her to purchase what she likes, but more important, it also affords her the vantage point to
realize that these objects are not the most important things in the world. She seems casual about,
and even careless with her possessions: when Mathilde brazenly requests to borrow her striking
diamond necklace, she agrees. And later, when Mathilde informs her that the necklace in her
possession is actually extremely valuable, she seems more rattled by the idea that Mathilde has
sacrificed her life unnecessarily. The fact that Madame Forestier owned fake jewels in the first
place suggests that she understands that objects are only as powerful as people perceive them
to be. For her, fake jewels can be just as beautiful and striking as real diamonds if one sees them
as such.

5. Motifs
Coveting
Throughout “The Necklace,” Mathilde covets everything that other people have and she does
not. Whereas Monsieur Loisel happily looks forward to having hot soup for dinner, Mathilde
thinks only of the grandness of other homes and lavish table settings that she does not own.
When Monsieur Loisel obtains an invitation for a party, she covets a new dress so that she can
look as beautiful as the other wives as well as jewelry so that she does not look poor in
comparison to them. She is so covetous of Madame Forestier’s wealth that she cannot bear to
visit her, but she overcomes her angst when she needs to borrow jewelry for the party; there,
her coveting is briefly sated because she gets to take one of the ornaments home with her. After
the party, she covets the fur coats the other women are wearing, which highlight the shabbiness
of her own wraps. This endless coveting ultimately leads to Mathilde’s downfall and, along the
way, yields only fleeting happiness. It is so persistent, however, that it takes on a life of its
own—Mathilde’s coveting is as much a part of her life as breathing.
6. Symbols
The Necklace
The necklace, beautiful but worthless, represents the power of perception and the split between
appearances and reality. Mathilde borrows the necklace because she wants to give the
appearance of being wealthy; Madame Forestier does not tell her up front that the necklace is
fake, perhaps because she, too, wants to give the illusion of being wealthier than she actually
is. Because Mathilde is so envious of Madame Forestier and believes her to be wealthy, she
never doubts the necklace’s authenticity—she expects diamonds, so diamonds are what she
perceives. She enters willingly and unknowingly into this deception, and her complete belief in
her borrowed wealth allows her to convey an appearance of wealth to others. Because she
believes herself rich for one night, she becomes rich in others’ eyes. The fact that the necklace
is at the center of the deception that leads to Mathilde’s downfall suggests that only trouble can
come from denying the reality of one’s situation.
 “EVELINE” (1914) by James Joyce
She sat at the window watching the evening invade the avenue. Her head was leaned against
the window curtains and in her nostrils was the odour of dusty cretonne. She was tired.
Few people passed. The man out of the last house passed on his way home; she heard his
footsteps clacking along the concrete pavement and afterwards crunching on the cinder path
before the new red houses. One time there used to be a field there in which they used to play
every evening with other people’s children. Then a man from Belfast bought the field and built
houses in it — not like their little brown houses but bright brick houses with shining roofs. The
children of the avenue used to play together in that field — the Devines, the Waters, the Dunns,
little Keogh the cripple, she and her brothers and sisters. Ernest, however, never played: he was
too grown up. Her father used often to hunt them in out of the field with his blackthorn stick;
but usually little Keogh used to keep nix and call out when he saw her father coming. Still they
seemed to have been rather happy then. Her father was not so bad then; and besides, her mother
was alive. That was a long time ago; she and her brothers and sisters were all grown up her
mother was dead. Tizzie Dunn was dead, too, and the Waters had gone back to England.
Everything changes. Now she was going to go away like the others, to leave her home.
Home! She looked round the room, reviewing all its familiar objects which she had dusted once
a week for so many years, wondering where on earth all the dust came from. Perhaps she would
never see again those familiar objects from which she had never dreamed of being divided. And
yet during all those years she had never found out the name of the priest whose yellowing
photograph hung on the wall above the broken harmonium beside the coloured print of the
promises made to Blessed Margaret Mary Alacoque. He had been a school friend of her father.
Whenever he showed the photograph to a visitor her father used to pass it with a casual word:
“He is in Melbourne now.”
She had consented to go away, to leave her home. Was that wise? She tried to weigh each side
of the question. In her home anyway she had shelter and food; she had those whom she had
known all her life about her. O course she had to work hard, both in the house and at business.
What would they say of her in the Stores when they found out that she had run away with a
fellow? Say she was a fool, perhaps; and her place would be filled up by advertisement. Miss
Gavan would be glad. She had always had an edge on her, especially whenever there were
people listening.
“Miss Hill, don’t you see these ladies are waiting?”
“Look lively, Miss Hill, please.”
She would not cry many tears at leaving the Stores.
But in her new home, in a distant unknown country, it would not be like that. Then she would
be married — she, Eveline. People would treat her with respect then. She would not be treated
as her mother had been. Even now, though she was over nineteen, she sometimes felt herself in
danger of her father’s violence. She knew it was that that had given her the palpitations. When
they were growing up he had never gone for her like he used to go for Harry and Ernest, because
she was a girl but latterly he had begun to threaten her and say what he would do to her only
for her dead mother’s sake. And no she had nobody to protect her. Ernest was dead and Harry,
who was in the church decorating business, was nearly always down somewhere in the country.
Besides, the invariable squabble for money on Saturday nights had begun to weary her
unspeakably. She always gave her entire wages — seven shillings — and Harry always sent up
what he could but the trouble was to get any money from her father. He said she used to
squander the money, that she had no head, that he wasn’t going to give her his hard-earned
money to throw about the streets, and much more, for he was usually fairly bad on Saturday
night. In the end he would give her the money and ask her had she any intention of buying
Sunday’s dinner. Then she had to rush out as quickly as she could and do her marketing, holding
her black leather purse tightly in her hand as she elbowed her way through the crowds and
returning home late under her load of provisions. She had hard work to keep the house together
and to see that the two young children who had been left to hr charge went to school regularly
and got their meals regularly. It was hard work — a hard life — but now that she was about to
leave it she did not find it a wholly undesirable life.
She was about to explore another life with Frank. Frank was very kind, manly, open-hearted.
She was to go away with him by the night-boat to be his wife and to live with him in Buenos
Ayres where he had a home waiting for her. How well she remembered the first time she had
seen him; he was lodging in a house on the main road where she used to visit. It seemed a few
weeks ago. He was standing at the gate, his peaked cap pushed back on his head and his hair
tumbled forward over a face of bronze. Then they had come to know each other. He used to
meet her outside the Stores every evening and see her home. He took her to see The Bohemian
Girl and she felt elated as she sat in an unaccustomed part of the theatre with him. He was
awfully fond of music and sang a little. People knew that they were courting and, when he sang
about the lass that loves a sailor, she always felt pleasantly confused. He used to call her
Poppens out of fun. First of all, it had been an excitement for her to have a fellow and then she
had begun to like him. He had tales of distant countries. He had started as a deck boy at a pound
a month on a ship of the Allan Line going out to Canada. He told her the names of the ships he
had been on and the names of the different services. He had sailed through the Straits of
Magellan and he told her stories of the terrible Patagonians. He had fallen on his feet in Buenos
Ayres, he said, and had come over to the old country just for a holiday. Of course, her father
had found out the affair and had forbidden her to have anything to say to him.
“I know these sailor chaps,” he said.
One day he had quarreled with Frank and after that she had to meet her lover secretly.
The evening deepened in the avenue. The white of two letters in her lap grew indistinct. One
was to Harry; the other was to her father. Ernest had been her favourite but she liked Harry too.
Her father was becoming old lately, she noticed; he would miss her. Sometimes he could be
very nice. Not long before, when she had been laid up for a day, he had read her out a ghost
story and made toast for her at the fire. Another day, when their mother was alive, they had all
gone for a picnic to the Hill of Howth. She remembered her father putting on her mother’s
bonnet to make the children laugh.
Her time was running out but she continued to sit by the window, leaning her head against the
window curtain, inhaling the odour of dusty cretonne. Down far in the avenue she could hear a
street organ playing. She knew the air Strange that it should come that very night to remind her
of the promise to her mother, her promise to keep the home together as long as she could. She
remembered the last night of her mother’s illness; she was again in the close dark room at the
other side of the hall and outside she heard a melancholy air of Italy. The organ-player had been
ordered to go away and given sixpence. She remembered her father strutting back into the
sickroom saying:
“Damned Italians! coming over here!”
As she mused the pitiful vision of her mother’s life laid its spell on the very quick of her being
— that life of commonplace sacrifices closing in final craziness. She trembled as she heard
again her mother’s voice saying constantly with foolish insistence:
“Derevaun Seraun! Derevaun Seraun!”
She stood up in a sudden impulse of terror. Escape! She must escape! Frank would save her.
He would give her life, perhaps love, too. But she wanted to live. Why should she be unhappy?
She had a right to happiness. Frank would take her in his arms, fold her in his arms. He would
save her.
She stood among the swaying crowd in the station at the North Wall. He held her hand and she
knew that he was speaking to her, saying something about the passage over and over again. The
station was full of soldiers with brown baggage. Through the wide doors of the sheds she caught
a glimpse of the black mass of the boat, lying in beside the quay wall, with illumined portholes.
She answered nothing. She felt her cheek pale and cold and, out of a maze of distress, she
prayed to God to direct her, to show her what was her duty. The boat blew a long mournful
whistle into the mist. If she went, tomorrow she would be on the sea with Frank, steaming
towards Buenos Ayres. Their passage had been booked. Could she still draw back after all he
had done for her? Her distress awoke a nausea in her body and she kept moving her lips in silent
fervent prayer.
A bell clanged upon her heart. She felt him seize her hand:
“Come!”
All the seas of the world tumbled about her heart. He was drawing her into them: he would
drown her. She gripped with both hands at the iron railing.
“Come!”
No! No! No! It was impossible. Her hands clutched the iron in frenzy. Amid the seas she sent
a cry of anguish.
“Eveline! Evvy!”
He rushed beyond the barrier and called to her to follow. He was shouted at to go on but he still
called to her. She set her white face to him, passive, like a helpless animal. Her eyes gave him
no sign of love or farewell or recognition.
 Summary and Analysis of “Eveline”

“Eveline” is one of the short stories that make up James Joyce’s

collection Dubliners, which was published in 1914. The story focuses on a young
Irish woman of nineteen years of age, who plans to leave her abusive father and
poverty-stricken existence in Ireland, and seeks out a new, better life for herself
and her lover Frank in Buenos Aires.

Summary
Eveline Hill is a young woman living in Dublin with her father and siblings.
Her mother is dead. Dreaming of a better life beyond the shores of Ireland, Eveline
plans to elope with Frank, a sailor who is her secret lover (Eveline’s father having
forbade Eveline to see Frank after the two men fell out), and start a new life in
Argentina. With her mother gone, Eveline is responsible for the day-to-day
running of the household: her father is drunk and only reluctantly tips up his share
of the weekly housekeeping money, and her brother Harry is busy working and is
away a lot on business (another brother, Ernest, has died).

Eveline sits at a window in her home and looks out onto the street while
fondly recalling her childhood, when she played with other children in a field now
developed with new homes. Her thoughts turn to her sometimes abusive father
with whom she lives, and to the prospect of freeing herself from her hard life
juggling jobs as a shop worker and a nanny to support herself and her father.
Eveline faces a difficult dilemma: remain at home like a dutiful daughter, or leave
Dublin with her lover, Frank, who is a sailor. He wants her to marry him and live
with him in Buenos Aires, and she has already agreed to leave with him in secret.
As Eveline recalls, Frank’s courtship of her was pleasant until her father began to
voice his disapproval and bicker with Frank. After that, the two lovers met
clandestinely.
 Eveline herself keeps down a job working in a shop. On Saturday nights,
when she asks her father for some money, he tends to unleash a tirade of verbal
abuse, and is often drunk. When he eventually hands over his housekeeping
money, Eveline has to go to the shops and buy the food for the Sunday dinner at
the last minute. Eveline is tired of this life, and so she and Frank book onto a ship
leaving for Argentina. But as she is just about to board the ship, Eveline suffers a
failure of resolve, and cannot go through with it. She wordlessly turns round and
goes home, leaving Frank to board the ship alone.

As Eveline reviews her decision to embark on a new life, she holds in her lap
two letters, one to her father and one to her brother Harry. She begins to favor the
sunnier memories of her old family life, when her mother was alive and her
brother was living at home, and notes that she did promise her mother to dedicate
herself to maintaining the home. She reasons that her life at home, cleaning and
cooking, is hard but perhaps not the worst option—her father is not always mean,
after all. The sound of a street organ then reminds her of her mother’s death, and
her thoughts change course. She remembers her mother’s uneventful, sad life, and
passionately embraces her decision to escape the same fate by leaving with Frank.
At the docks in Dublin, Eveline waits in a crowd to board the ship with Frank.
She appears detached and worried, overwhelmed by the images around her, and
prays to God for direction. Her previous declaration of intent seems to have never
happened. When the boat whistle blows and Frank pulls on her hand to lead her
with him, Eveline resists. She clutches the barrier as Frank is swept into the throng
moving toward the ship. He continually shouts “Come!” but Eveline remains
fixed to the land, motionless and emotionless.

Analysis
Eveline’s story illustrates the pitfalls of holding onto the past when facing
the future. Hers is the first portrait of a female in Dubliners, and it reflects the
conflicting pull many women in early twentieth-century Dublin felt between a
domestic life rooted in the past and the possibility of a new married life abroad.
One moment, Eveline feels happy to leave her hard life, yet at the next moment
she worries about fulfilling promises to her dead mother. She grasps the letters
she’s written to her father and brother, revealing her inability to let go of those
family relationships, despite her father’s cruelty and her brother’s absence. She
clings to the older and more pleasant memories and imagines what other people
want her to do or will do for her. She sees Frank as a rescuer saving her from her
domestic situation. Eveline suspends herself between the call of home and the past
and the call of new experiences and the future, unable to make a decision.

The threat of repeating her mother’s life spurs Eveline’s epiphany that she
must leave with Frank and embark on a new phase in her life, but this realization
is short-lived. She hears a street organ, and when she remembers the street organ
that played on the night before her mother’s death, Eveline resolves not to repeat
her mother’s life of “commonplace sacrifices closing in final craziness,” but she
does exactly that. Like the young boys of “An Encounter” and “Araby,” she
desires escape, but her reliance on routine and repetition overrides such impulses.
On the docks with Frank, away from the familiarity of home, Eveline seeks
guidance in the routine habit of prayer. Her action is the first sign that she in fact
hasn’t made a decision, but instead remains fixed in a circle of indecision. She
will keep her lips moving in the safe practice of repetitive prayer rather than join
her love on a new and different path. Though Eveline fears that Frank will drown
her in their new life, her reliance on everyday rituals is what causes Eveline to
freeze and not follow Frank onto the ship.

Eveline’s paralysis within an orbit of repetition leaves her a “helpless

animal,” stripped of human will and emotion. The story does not suggest that
Eveline placidly returns home and continues her life, but shows her
transformation into an automaton that lacks expression. Eveline, the story
suggests, will hover in mindless repetition, on her own, in Dublin. On the docks
with Frank, the possibility of living a fully realized life left her.

The Important Themes in “Eveline”

Paralysis and Inaction:

Joyce’s use of perspective and his characteristic stream-of-consciousness
style allow the reader to see Eveline’s thought progression clearly as she
contemplates running away to Argentina with her lover, Frank. Eveline’s inability
to make a decision, a sort of mental paralysis, results in actual physical paralysis
at the end of the story as she stands outside watching Frank board the ship but
cannot bring herself to join him. Through her inability to make a decision, she
inadvertently decides to stay behind in Dublin.

Eveline has a logical thought process as she considers her options. She
observed her father’s violence toward her mother and brothers growing up, and
resolves to leave so she will not end up in the same situation. At the same time
she knows that both her father and the children she takes care of are relying on
her, but also reasons that she deserves to pursue her own happiness. Despite this
logic, her emotions kick in and she begins to feel guilty for leaving them. She is
also influenced by her fear of the unknown. She admits that her current life is “a
hard life,” but now that she is making plans to leave, Eveline starts to think about
all of the good things and the certainty that her current life provides, finding it not
“a wholly undesirable life.” Nostalgia plays a large role in Eveline’s decision to
stay as well. She is attached to the past, and even though the people from her past
are long gone, she cannot bring herself to leave the city that she associates with
them. Rather than focusing on her present relationship with her father, she uses
their past experiences together to justify her bond with him, remembering when
he read her ghost stories and made her toast while she was sick and another time
when the family went for a picnic while her mother was still alive. Joyce is
perhaps using “Eveline” as an opportunity to critique this type of glorification of
the past, since here it prevents Eveline from escaping an abusive relationship and
pursuing her own happiness. Her nostalgia causes her to sacrifice her future, and
despite her logical thought process, her final decision is ultimately caused by a
gut feeling.

Eveline’s paralysis is also caused by her sense of powerlessness. She

continually looks to two things to save her from her situation: Frank, or men in
general, and religion/God. She is constantly either praying to God or thinking
about how Frank will help her become more respectable or change her situation:
“He would save her.” Because Eveline is a woman in 20th Century Dublin, it is
logical that she looks to Frank to save her. Marriage was the primary way for
women to gain social or economic status during the time period, and part of the
reason Eveline is looking for someone or something to save her is because in 20th
Century Dublin she is mostly powerless. Eveline also looks to God, or her
religion, to save her. She prays to God for the power to make a decision, and even
at the station as she watches Frank board the boat she is “moving her lips in silent
fervent prayer.” Eveline’s religion also further perpetuates the idea that someone
else, another male figure, can save her, and that she perhaps does not need to make
an active decision. But this feeling of helplessness, however rooted in women’s
roles and society, is also part of the reason Eveline is unable to take control of her
fate and make a decision. She has grown up in a society where she is powerless
and needs someone to save her, and so she is unable to claim ownership of her
own fate. Her sense of powerless, along with her emotions and nostalgia, prevent
her from making a decision based on logic and perspective.

Escapism and the Exotic:

As in many of the other stories in Dubliners, the protagonist of “Eveline”
has a desire to escape from the drab, brown Dublin life. But unlike the narrator in
“Araby,” for example, Eveline has an actual plan to escape to Argentina. She also
has an opportunity to gain respect through marriage and also by distancing herself
from the bad reputation her family seems to have, escaping the limitations of her
current social status. Eveline fantasizes about her escape and seems to think it will
solve all of her problems: her financial disputes with her father, the lack of respect
her coworkers show her, and her general discontentment with Dublin life.
However, when it comes time for Eveline to actually board the boat
with Frank, she decides against her escape. This implies that perhaps the idea of
an escape was satisfying in itself, but the actual act of escaping is too scary.
Eveline liked having the opportunity for an escape, and it temporarily soothed her
anxiety about the lack of respect she receives from her boss and her fear of being
treated like her mother. It is possible that all she really desired was some kind of
reassurance in the form of another potential path.

Eveline takes interest in Frank not only because he is offering her an escape,
but also because she finds him exotic. He tells her stories about faraway places
and people and exposes her to music and culture that she has never before
experienced. Frank takes her to see the play “The Bohemian Girl,” which although
the music is written by an Irish composer, deals with “gypsies” in Austria and
other Eastern European countries. For Eveline, anything outside of Dublin most
likely seems exotic, since she seems to have lived on the same quiet street,
surrounded by the same people, her whole life. Even the fact that Frank is a sailor
is a bit exotic, at least to the extent that because of this Eveline’s father forbids
her from seeing him. She is also thrilled to sit in an “unaccustomed” part of the
theater, which suggests that Frank is of a higher status than Eveline and was able
to buy more expensive seats. At one point Eveline reflects on the lack of respect
she receives in Dublin and imagines that in Argentina, “a distant unknown
country,” it will not “be like that.” Eveline reveals her ignorance with this
somewhat contradictory thought. She is assuming it will not “be like that” but she
also admits that she is going to make a new home in an unknown country, and
does not seem to have any basis for the assertion that she will have more respect
in Argentina.

Similar to Joyce’s other protagonists in Dubliners, Eveline is searching for

an escape. However, at the end of the story it becomes clear that Eveline was not
as serious about finding a physical escape as she initially appeared. Additionally,
she seems to realize that an escape does not necessarily promise a happy ending
and she could easily end up with a violent husband, just like her mother did. Joyce
seems to see all Dubliners as trapped by society. The opportunities for escape are
scarce, so instead many of his characters choose to fantasize about the exotic and
satisfy themselves with more of a mental escape.

The Theme of responsibility:

Eveline is a young woman torn between staying at her stifling Dublin home
and escaping with her lover, Frank, to the unknown. Her life at home is hard; she
has many obligations to fulfill on a daily basis, like cooking and managing money,
and two children were left to her to be looked after. In addition to taking care of
the household duties, she has to deal with her often drunk and abusive father who
she is scared of. Not only does she have to attempt to prevent him from
squandering all the money he earns, but she also has to worry about whether he
would physically hurt her. Eveline needs comfort and safety, and she feels she is
unable to find this at her home.
Also, one of the things that Eveline feels paralyzed by is the promise that she
made to her mother while she was still alive. She promised her that she would
"keep the home together as long as she could."
All these responsibilities seem to prevent Eveline from thinking that it is
possible to escape and embrace a more fulfilling life. The possibility of a new life
becomes, after much deliberation on Eveline's part, a goal not achievable.