Trifles by Susan Glaspell (Explorations of the Text)

Q : What clue(s) lead the the women to conclude that Minnie Wright killed her husband?
A : The main clue would be the dead canary bird. The cause of death to the bird is the exactly the same as Mr. Wright. In the beginning, the readers were given the evidence and cue on way Mr. Wright was being killed. He was straggled with a rope, and ironically he died on his bed with no struggling prefaced in the bedroom. That arises suspicions. They, the Sheriff and the Coroner suspect that Mr. Wright would have been killed by someone he knows. The men were straight into speculations that Mrs. Wright was the murderer. They tried to find evidences in the bedroom but to no avail. Surprisingly, it was the women who solved the case by themselves. However, they did not reveal it in protection of the person who carries the same gender as themselves - female. They believed that for Mrs. Wright to take such a gruesome and brutal action, there must be a solid reason to support it.

Q : How do the men differ from the women? from each other?
A : To answer this question correctly, we will be looking from two aspects which are the difference between men and women, and men and men. Men, of course are a complete different of species from women, therefore it is safe for us to say that men are different from women. Men are made of chromosomes XY whereas women are made of chromosomes XX. This result in difference from all aspects of men and women, both physically and mentally. Men in the text, is portrayed as arrogant and ignorant. They believed that they are in the upper hands of this case, and that they knew everything that has happened in this murder case of Mr. Wright. They did not pay even the slightest attention to the "trifles" which are the minor evidences that needed patient eyes to discover it. In the end, it was the women who solved this case, without them knowing of course. Men are well known to be strong competitors, they have the natural cavemen instincts and demeanor. They will fight among each other. In Trifles, the men were seen trying to be on the upper hand of each other. On one stage, Mr. Peters and Mr. Henderson were trying to prove to the people present in the kitchen, especially the women that either one of them is better acknowledged about how the murder was conducted.

Q : What do the men discover? Why do they conclude "Nothing here but kitchen things"? What do the women discover?
A : The men merely discover anything. They talked all the time, and was trying to flaunt their wisdom and experiences among each other. They even underestimated the women's ability and brilliancy by making a remark that there was nothing there except kitchen stuffs. For them (the men), the women were just decorations and were there for no use, but to collect some of the things requested by Mrs. Wright who was kept in the prison cell at that time. The men concluded in such a way, most probably is because they see no weapon that indicates the death of Mr. Wright. There was no consistency in the men, unlike the women. They go through every small little details in the kitchen. From their throughout inspections, they discovered an empty bird cage. And, how the dead canary bird was kept in a beautiful box by Mrs. Wright. The women making no hesitation in concluding that the straggled dead bird was the reason why Mrs. Wright murdered her husband. Moreover, the women knew Mrs. Wright since she was a young beautiful girl with good voice. The women cleverly and carefully put every puzzle into their own places by relating to Mrs. Wright's life before and after marriage.


*The answers given by the Blogger were based on her personal understanding of the text*

The biography and critic of Henrik Ibsen

Henrik Ibsen was a writer from Norway. As he was growing up, he showed no talent in drama and play. However, his mother loved to see plays, and played piano as well. From there, he developed an interest in making himself a stand in the arts industry. He was the oldest among all of his five siblings. When he was 8, poverty hit his family. His father was a merchant, but failed in his business miserably. Ibsen stopped going to school. and started to find odd jobs to support his family. However lowly educated he was, he still managed to work and write at the same time. He looked up to William Shakespeare as his mentor and inspiration. A Doll's House was his first piece of work. He embarked in the journey of becoming a writer through A Doll's House. A Doll's House received numerous recognition. It also causes a massive stir among the readers and in the society. Back in those days, women were being oppressed and belittled of. Women played an insignificant role in the society. Society did not and will not lay an eye for their sufferings or winnings. When, Ibsen's A Doll's House was published, it was criticised.

A Doll's House was about a woman's sacrifices towards her husband and children. In order to protect her family, she's willing to do anything that comes in her way. She even went to the extend of forging her dead father's signature to own the money, so that she can help her husband furtively. She knows how important image and dignity to her husband. Therefore, she tried to conceal everything from her husband's acknowledgement. It also goes to the extend of showing how insensitive her husband is. If only her husband will lower his arrogance and pride, he'd see all the sacrifices made by his wife.

A Doll's House highlights on the importance of women's role in the family constitutions. That causes an uproar in the society. They did not expect Ibsen to come up with such a piece of work. In this play, Ibsen was a feminist. He drew the lights to women.


Reference
http://www.biography.com/people/henrik-ibsen-37014?page=2

--> One can read the full version of A Doll's House on the link down below.
       http://www.gutenberg.org/files/2542/2542-h/2542-h.htm

The biography and critic of Susan Glaspell

Susan Glaspell was an American writer. She was made famous by the her strong and adamant view on Feminism. However, there's always a history behind a story told. Growing up in Iowa, she graduated in 1899. Upon her graduation, she find herself a job. Working as a journalist for Des Moines Daily News. She landed herself with a task. To write and report on a murder case. The case was about a man, John Hossack. He was axed while he was asleep on his bed. They suspected the wife to be the murderer. However, Glaspell went beyond what her job requires of her. She acted as a detective and started to investigate the case, in detail. However, the jury was not buying her words, and showed no interest in her report. That, I believe has agitated her. It prompted her to write. If we were to go through every piece of her work, you will notice how the feminist elements are so loud and clear. For example, Trifles. Trifles was published in the year of 1916. It was not a novel, but it is a drama. The play was based on the death of John Hossack. The female protagonist murdered her husband. However, there's a reason why she did that. From the play itself, we can see how insensitive the men are. They look beyond the tiny little details that most women would notice straightaway on the spot. Never did they realise that the small details that they were missing at, has contributed to the final judgement, on why the wife murdered her husband. From this play, we gathered clues about men. Men thinks that they are on the upper hands of the women, and that they are wise. But, Glaspell highlighted the facts that they are just plain arrogant and insensitive. 

Reference

http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/Jglaspell.htm

-->  One may get a full version of Trifles from the link down below

        http://www.one-act-plays.com/dramas/trifles.html

# A short video of the play, Trifles

A Date with a Literary Scholar ~ Mr. Refaat Alareer

Today, we the literature students from University Putra Malaysia has a golden opportunity on meeting up with Mr. Refaat Alareer from Palestine. He is an English Literature teacher. He was very enthusiastic about his works. Throughout the two-hour session with him, he talks about his works passionately. The talk was in full swing. As the listeners, we were able to actually feel how he felt when he first wrote all the poems. Things were so chaotic back in his native country. It shocked us that he took almost a month to come visit Malaysia. And, he has to endure all the hardships to crossover the border of Gaza to Egypt before he could reach Malaysia. Before the talk, I was unaware and being kept in the dark on why wars happen between those two countries. All I know is many innocent people are killed daily and nonchalantly. The innocent people ranging from the babies to old folks were never spared for lives. Today, Palestine is all scattered apart and Gaza is their only land of hopes.

Mr. Refaat has a few good tips on how to write good poetry.

• Read a lot of good and high quality poetry
• Believe that you can write good stuff
• Have the will to do so
• Scribble your thoughts. Always.
• Imitate
• Be yourself

Mr. Refaat went on further in stressing that we must always carry a small notebook, or at least a phone with us. This is to avoid us from losing any good idea that might come in our way unexpectedly. Free write is very important, in this case.

Mr. Refaat also owns a blog where he will post all his poems, and to share it with the people around the globe. It mainly talks about the suffering of the innocent in Gaza, and how they live in fear.

•  http://thisisgaza.wordpress.com/

As we read through his poetry, we can trace down these three elements in it

• Dialogue
• Performance / Drama
• Palestine

His poetry are all beautiful, soulful, meaningful, and aspiring. When he read some of his works during the talk, we were carried away by him. We can actually feel the meaning of each and every word in the poem. Although, we are all living in a peaceful country as Malaysia but somehow, we felt as if we were there in Palestine.

During the Q & A session, there was a question that intrigued me. That question was posed by one of my classmates. She asked what is the significance of Olive in Palestine, in which Mr. Refaat replied it is believed to be the cure of every illness. The Olive Oil are used to rub on the body to ease the ache and pain.

Furthermore, Mr. Refaat also introduced us to a few famous poets from Palestine. Their poetry were all about the ongoing wars in Gaza. Poets such as Mahmoud Darwish and Tamim Bargouti are famous for their Arabic poems while poets like Rafeet Ziadah and Susan Abulhawa use English in writing. This is because English is the most accessible language and easy to be understood by people around the globe. It helps to transcend the message clearly and easily.

Below are some of the videos about the poets mentioned above.

                                                  Rafeet Ziadah reciting "We teach life, Sir"

                                                               Wala by Susan Abulhawa

Poem on Today's War ~ Farrah Sarafa

Palestine Fig
By Farrah Sarafa 

Inner worlds lined brown like the earth,

tinted gold like divine mirth,

the occupied race of people plead

for an outside light to dissolve their worry

into the Dead Sea.

Dense bubbles, sugar grains condense

like caramel apple heating

under my hot tongue. I imagine

soldiers' threats induce a similar

effect on their poor children who have long been

constrained to sacrifice

their fame, knowledge and skill. Sweet fig flesh

that grips wrinkled outer skin

like old native man's hands made hallow

from fear, disdain, longing to cry peace by tears

formed from the pain of clouds

waiting to be tasted and felt.

Pains produced from sweet-thirsty twigs,

resting on the earth, come together,

tighten, roll, and shrink into small balls called seeds-

reproduce from the hungers, contempt and needs

of Palestinian

souls. They swim in the memories

of their buried ancestors,

whose lives, disintegrated, nourish

fig tree soils, coalesce to become seeds

that constitute fig fruit.

Hearts gold- earth speckled, firm flavor,

a seeded promise that you

will savor the Arabian air

that you will inhale when you eat a fig

from my ancestors.

 Blood, Sand and Tears of a Young Boy
By Farrah Sarafa

I wipe my tears while they-
they have no tears left to cry.
Dehydrated, like dried pineapple,
the closest they come  to resembling the concentric yellow
and fiber-branching slices
is the tired eye;
swollen and puffed like a pregnant belly
their shadow-plated arches, underneath
reveal how much they question "why."

"For what are you longing,"
I ask, looking into the complicated retina of the young boy.
"What is floating in the water of your deep and narrow well my
dear?"
He only speaks fear.

I feel his mother's cries moving inside of me,
shaking off flower vases and pots of marble stone
from granite table-tops
I shiver; steady in will and
willing to stay, I am made from glass
while this little boy is made from clay.
He is brought to pot by American soldiers
from which the Israelis may drink their raisin-milk in warm,
  making excuses to stay
in my mother's Palestine.

Placing my hand on his cold, winter's chest
I transfer my comforts as warmth, but their flag's pointing west;
  they are looking for help from a nation that is "best,"
though it is we
that have made Iraq into a land of nuclear test.
Missile tanks and planks
for cannonballs make storm in a place where
smoke bombs, tear gases and raping little girls from lower
classes
bring to form
nerve knots and tissue clots
along the green-starred spine of Iraq.
These people need no more tears;
  they are merely
  hungry.

"What does she hide beneath her big red striped gown" he asks,
inquiring of her tasks.
"Rice with cumin-spiced meats and lemon-sesame treats
or niter, sulfur and charcoal dynamite for an endless fight
against the rest of the world," he wonders of her vast plunders.

Desert souls, their tears are made of blood mixed with sand
while I, American, laugh in pain
     at Charlie Chaplin going insane on the television screen.
CNN bulletin interrupts my bliss with news of terrors
about red and flaming wearers
of suicide and contempt.
My laughs push into cries
and form a current for the Arabian Sea
whose crystal salts perspire and become of me.
Her waves undulate like snake-thin layers of blood thickened with
sand and stone
like a serpent's plea to be let free
  and to roam
the Garden of Eden.
America.

Dulce et Decorum Est

                                   Dulce et Decorum Est 

                                                                                  By Wilfred Owen

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, 

Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, 

Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs 

And towards our distant rest began to trudge. 

Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots 

But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; 

Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots  

Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling, 

Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time; 

But someone still was yelling out and stumbling, 

And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . . 

Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light, 

As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. 

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, 

He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. 

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace 

Behind the wagon that we flung him in, 

And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, 

His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin; 

If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood 

Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, 

Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud  

Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, 

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest  

To children ardent for some desperate glory, 

The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est 

Pro patria mori.

                               

The Greatest Poet - World War I

Wilfred Owen

Wilfred Edward Salter Owen was born on 18 March 1893. He was a soldier, second lieutenant in the Manchester Regimen. He served for England during World War I. He had seen lots of gruesome bloodshed during the war. Sadly, these experiences he had caused him to suffer from neurasthenia. He was traumatized. Therefore, he was sent to Craiglockhart War Hospital for treatments. During his recuperating in Craiglockhart, he met a poet namely Siegfried Sassoon. This  changed his life. He began write, in poetry form. He channeled his traumatized experiences into writing as a way to escape pain that he had to endure mentally and emotionally. Owen was also recognized as the greatest English poet of World War I. He managed to convey his feelings into all the poems he wrote. Words he used was precise and accurate to the point that sometimes the reader could feel what he felt. Some of his greatest works are Dulce et Decorum Est, Insensibility, Anthem for Doomed Youth, Futility and Strange Meeting. 

References

•  http://www.warpoetry.co.uk
• http://en.wikipedia.org