The Yellow Wallpaper..[This crayyzie biotxh]

The narrator begins her journal by marveling at the grandeur of the house and grounds her husband has taken for their summer vacation. She describes it in romantic terms as an aristocratic estate or even a haunted house and wonders how they were able to afford it, and why the house had been empty for so long. Her feeling that there is “something queer” about the situation leads her into a discussion of her illness—she is suffering from “nervous depression”—and of her marriage. She complains that her husband John, who is also her doctor, belittles both her illness and her thoughts and concerns in general. She contrasts his practical, rationalistic manner with her own imaginative, sensitive ways. Her treatment requires that she do almost nothing active, and she is especially forbidden from working and writing. She feels that activity, freedom, and interesting work would help her condition and reveals that she has begun her secret journal in order to “relieve her mind.” In an attempt to do so, the narrator begins describing the house. Her description is mostly positive, but disturbing elements such as the “rings and things” in the bedroom walls, and the bars on the windows, keep showing up. She is particularly disturbed by the yellow wallpaper in the bedroom, with its strange, formless pattern, and describes it as “revolting.” Soon, however, her thoughts are interrupted by John’s approach, and she is forced to stop writing.

Soon the wallpaper dominates the narrator’s imagination. She becomes possessive and secretive, hiding her interest in the paper and making sure no one else examines it so that she can “find it out” on her own. At one point, she startles Jennie, who had been touching the wallpaper and who mentions that she had found yellow stains on their clothes. Mistaking the narrator’s fixation for tranquility, John thinks she is improving. But she sleeps less and less and is convinced that she can smell the paper all over the house, even outside. She discovers a strange smudge mark on the paper, running all around the room, as if it had been rubbed by someone crawling against the wall.
By the end, the narrator is hopelessly insane, convinced that there are many creeping women around and that she herself has come out of the wallpaper—that she herself is the trapped woman. She creeps endlessly around the room, smudging the wallpaper as she goes. When John breaks into the locked room and sees the full horror of the situation, he faints in the doorway, so that the narrator has “to creep over him every time!”

Hills Like White Elephants...

Although “Hills Like White Elephants” is primarily a conversation between the American man and his girlfriend, neither of the speakers truly communicates with the other, highlighting the rift between the two. Both talk, but neither listens or understands the other’s point of view. Frustrated and placating, the American man will say almost anything to convince his girlfriend to have the operation, which, although never mentioned by name, is understood to be an abortion. He tells her he loves her, for example, and that everything between them will go back to the way it used to be. The girl, meanwhile, waffles indecisively, at one point conceding that she’ll have the abortion just to shut him up. When the man still persists, she finally begs him to “please, please, please, please, please, please” stop talking, realizing the futility of their conversation. In fact, the girl’s nickname, “Jig,” subtly indicates that the two characters merely dance around each other and the issue at hand without ever saying anything meaningful. The girl’s inability to speak Spanish with the bartender, moreover, not only illustrates her dependence on the American but also the difficulty she has expressing herself to others.
Both the American man and the girl drink alcohol throughout their conversation to avoid each other and the problems with their relationship. They start drinking large beers the moment they arrive at the station as if hoping to fill their free time with anything but discussion. Then, as soon as they begin talking about the hills that look like white elephants, the girl asks to order more drinks to put off the inevitable conversation about the baby. Although they drink primarily to avoid thinking about the pregnancy, readers sense that deeper problems exist in their relationship, of which the baby is merely one. In fact, the girl herself implies this when she remarks that she and the American man never do anything together except try new drinks, as if constantly looking for new ways to avoid each other. By the end of their conversation, both drink alone—the girl at the table and the man at the bar—suggesting that the two will end their relationship and go their separate ways.

A white elephant symbolizes something no one wants—in this story, the girl’s unborn child. The girl’s comment in the beginning of the story that the surrounding hills look like white elephants initially seems to be a casual, offhand remark, but it actually serves as a segue for her and the American to discuss their baby and the possibility of having an abortion. The girl later retracts this comment with the observation that the hills don’t really look like white elephants, a subtle hint that perhaps she wants to keep the baby after all—a hint the American misses. In fact, she even says that the hills only seemed to look like white elephants at first glance, and that they’re actually quite lovely. Comparing the hills—and, metaphorically, the baby—to elephants also recalls the expression “the elephant in the room,” a euphemism for something painfully obvious that no one wants to discuss.

Everything That Rises Must Converge...

   Mary Flannery O’Connor was born on March 25, 1925, in Savannah, Georgia, to Edward Francis O’Connor and Regina Cline O’Connor. Her family moved to Atlanta for her father’s work when O’Connor was a teenager but had to return to their home in Milledgeville, Georgia, after her father contracted lupus. He died three years later. O’Connor later studied at a private high school before entering George State College for Women, where she worked for the student newspaper and literary magazine. She had enjoyed writing since childhood, and the stories she composed in college merited admission to the master’s program at the University of Iowa’s writer’s workshop. There, she honed her craft and began publishing fiction. Her first story, “The Geranium,” appeared in Accent when she was only twenty-one and earned her both an award and a publishing contract for her first novel. She began working on the novel Wise Blood while working as a teaching assistant at the University of Iowa after receiving her master’s degree in 1947.
     O’Connor accepted an invitation to work on Wise Blood at Yaddo, a respected artist’s colony in Saratoga Springs, New York. Her publisher, however, disliked the initial drafts, so she switched publishers and submitted portions of the novel for publication in prominent journals such as the Paris Review. While visiting her mother in Georgia for Christmas, O’Connor’s health began to decline, and doctors ultimately diagnosed her with lupus, from which she would eventually die. Fearing that she would live only three more years as her father had, she left New York and decided to live with her mother on their Georgian dairy farm, Andalusia. O’Connor lived there quietly for several years until she completed and published Wise Blood in 1952. Critics condemned the novel as an affront to Christianity for its satire on American religious life but recognized O’Connor’s phenomenal talent as a writer.
         O’Connor published her first collection of short stories, A Good Man Is Hard to Find, in 1955 and then followed up with a second novel in 1960, The Violent Bear It Away. Although critics loved her short fiction, her second novel suffered as Wise Blood had. Nevertheless, O’Connor’s reputation grew, and she continued to write, lecture, and teach until her death in 1964. Everything That Rises Must Converge, her second volume of short stories, was published posthumously in 1965, and she posthumously won the National Book Award in 1972 for her Collected Stories. O’Connor’s popularity has increased since her death, and many now deem her one of the best short story writers of the twentieth century.

A Good Man Is HARD Too Find

Yasss ma'am yas ma'am. Now I know what your're thinking; I cant find a "good" man for nothing in this world. They all either (1) dating someone already (2) got "baby mama drama" or my favorite (3) he a dog, he known for messing around with other females. Then we get into this predicament that ALL GUYS ARE THE SAME, which in this case isn't the truth.

  ....Back to the story, as I'm reading this what I thought was going to be giving me advice on my relationship problems turned out to be the complete opposite. It starts off as the family(grandmother, her son Bailey, his wife and there 3 kids..John Wesley, June Star,and the newborn). Their discussing options as to where they should vacation to this summer, of course Grandma puts her 2 cents in and says they should go to Tennessee  but nobody wants to go. The kids on the other hand want to go to Florida but (apparently some guy by the name of the Misfit escapes prison and is on the lose) which cuts Florida out of the picture. 

   They're on the road to Tennessee (to Grandma's happiness). Speaking of the Grandma, she had me on pins and needles the entire time I was reading this book. Her poor choice of words had be about ready to jump into the book and slap her a**. Like really? You're not all perfect (but we'll get to that part later). 

   So anyways to make a long story short, the Grandmother ends up reminiscing about this place she went to with a special guy*booty call* jk. All of a sudden she realizes that  the place she visited was in GEORGIA. smdh.  With a sudden reaction she hits the cage her cat was in. (why she bring the crazy cat, idk) Now the van has flipped and she was the reason for the accident. Everyone is alive and well at this point. 

   So now they're stuck on this dirt road all because of lovely 'ol Grandma. They notice a car in  the distance...load and behold its the Misfit. They ran into the Misfit. One by one he kills the family, first being Bailey and John Wesley...then the wife, June Star and the baby :-( 

Leaving Grandma to be last. Of course he shot but that wasnt the point. 

  The point of the story was to actually so that you cant trust anybody, and that violence and change a persons outlook on things quick as a heart beat. Grandma was a bit of a racist, she used words that normally you wouldn't wanna hear in those days. And her son Bailey didnt really give to much care for her, but at the time of the shooting Bailey called her Momma for the first time in the story, its crazy how a scary situation and make you say things. And Grandma on the other hand....she realized that she wasnt perfect and she had imperfections that she knew was wrong.   

The Cask Of Amontillado

Montresor, opens the story by stating that he has been irreparably insulted by his acquaintance, Fortunato, and that he seeks revenge. He wants to exact this revenge, however, in a measured way, without placing himself at risk. He decides to use Fortunato’s fondness for wine against him. During the carnival season, Montresor, wearing a mask of black silk, approaches Fortunato. He tells Fortunato that he has acquired something that could pass for Amontillado, a light Spanish sherry. Fortunato (Italian for “fortunate”) wears the multicolored costume of the jester, including a cone cap with bells. Montresor tells Fortunato that if he is too busy, he will ask a man named Luchesi to taste it. Fortunato apparently considers Luchesi a competitor and claims that this man could not tell Amontillado from other types of sherry. Fortunato is anxious to taste the wine and to determine for Montresor whether or not it is truly Amontillado. Fortunato insists that they go to Montresor’s vaults.
  Montresor has strategically planned for this meeting by sending his servants away to the carnival. The two men descend into the damp vaults, which are covered with nitre, or saltpeter, a whitish mineral. Apparently aggravated by the nitre, Fortunato begins to cough. The narrator keeps offering to bring Fortunato back home, but Fortunato refuses. Instead, he accepts wine as the antidote to his cough. The men continue to explore the deep vaults, which are full of the dead bodies of the Montresor family. In response to the crypts, Fortunato claims to have forgotten Montresor’s family coat of arms and motto. Montresor responds that his family shield portrays “a huge human foot d’or, in a field azure; the foot crushes a serpent rampant whose fangs are imbedded in the heel.” The motto, in Latin, is “nemo me impune lacessit,” that is, “no one attacks me with impunity.”
  Taunting Fortunato with an offer to leave, Montresor begins to wall up the entrance to this small crypt, thereby trapping Fortunato inside. Fortunato screams confusedly as Montresor builds the first layer of the wall. The alcohol soon wears off and Fortunato moans, terrified and helpless. As the layers continue to rise, though, Fortunato falls silent. Just as Montresor is about to finish, Fortunato laughs as if Montresor is playing a joke on him, but Montresor is not joking. At last, after a final plea, “For the love of God, Montresor!” Fortunato stops answering Montresor, who then twice calls out his enemy’s name. After no response, Montresor claims that his heart feels sick because of the dampness of the catacombs. He fits the last stone into place and plasters the wall closed, his actions accompanied only by the jingling of Fortunato’s bells. He finally repositions the bones on the fourth wall. For fifty years, he writes, no one has disturbed them. He concludes with a Latin phrase meaning “May he rest in peace.”

Chrysanthemums

Chrysanthemums, sometimes called mums or chrysanths, are flowering plants of the genus Chrysanthemum in the family Asteraceae. They are native to Asia and northeastern Europe. Most species originate from East Asia and the center of diversity is in China.^[1]There are about 40 valid species.^[1] There are countless horticultural varieties and cultivars. 

    I can honestly say I was completely confuse about this book. I did read it by the way. But I just couldn't comprehend the moral of the story. I would think one thing would happen then it took a 360 turn and another thing happened, it was just ALL over the place. Great Job Sweeney !!!    I think everyone would agree when I say that at one point during the story, Elisa was going to have an affair with the "wagon guy" (didn't know his name). But as the story progressed, it didn't happen. Yay?    Once again I am left to figure about what to speak this book I just so happened to read about over the week and there is nothing to talk about. NOTHING!!