Short Stories

Everyday Use by Alice Walker

Mama decides that she will wait in the yard Ior her daughter Dee`s arrival. Mama knows that her other daughter, Maggie, will be nervous throughout Dee`s stay, selI-
conscious oI her scars and burn marks and jealous oI Dee`s much easier liIe. Mama Iantasizes about reunion scenes on television programs in which a successIul
daughter embraces the parents who have made her success possible. Sometimes Mama imagines reuniting with Dee in a similar scenario, in a television studio where an
amiable host brings out a tearIul Dee, who pins orchids on Mama`s dress. Whereas Mama is sheepish about the thought oI looking a white man in the eye, Dee is more
assertive. Mama`s musing is interrupted by Maggie`s shuIIling arrival in the yard. Mama remembers the house Iire that happened more than a decade ago, when she
carried Maggie, badly burned, out oI the house. Dee watched the Ilames engulI the house she despised.
Back then, Mama believed that Dee hated Maggie, until Mama and the community raised enough money to send Dee to school in Augusta. Mama resented the
intimidating world oI ideas and education that Dee Iorced on her Iamily on her trips home. Mama never went to school beyond second grade. Maggie can read only in a
limited capacity. Mama looks Iorward to Maggie`s marriage to John Thomas, aIter which Mama can peaceIully relax and sing hymns at home.
When Dee arrives, Mama grips Maggie to prevent her Irom running back into the house. Dee emerges Irom the car with her boyIriend, Hakim-a-barber. Mama
disapproves oI the strange man`s presence and is equally disapproving oI Dee`s dress and appearance. Hakim-a-barber greets and tries to hug Maggie, who recoils.
Dee gets a camera Irom the car and takes a Iew pictures oI Mama and Maggie in Iront oI their house. She then puts the camera on the backseat and kisses Mama on the
Iorehead, as Hakim-a-barber awkwardly tries to shake Maggie`s hand. Dee tells her mother that she has changed her name to Wangero Leewanika Kemanjo to protest
being named aIter the people who have oppressed her. Mama tells Dee that she was in Iact named aIter her Aunt Dicie, who was named aIter Grandma Dee, who bore
the name oI her mother as well. Mama struggles with the pronunciation oI Dee`s new AIrican name. Dee says she doesn`t have to use the new name, but Mama learns
to say it, although she is unable to master Hakim`s name. Mama says that he must be related to the Muslims who live down the road and tend beeI cattle and also greet
people by saying 'Asalamalakim. Hakim-a-barber says he accepts some oI their doctrines but is not into Iarming or herding.
Mama wonders whether Hakim-a-barber and Dee are married. Sitting down to eat, Hakim-a-barber states that he does not eat collard greens or pork. Dee, however, eats
heartily, delighted by the Iact that the Iamily still uses the benches her Iather made. Hopping up, she approaches the butter churn in the corner and asks Mama iI she can
have its top, which had been carved by Uncle Buddy. Dee wants the dasher too, a device with blades used to make butter. Hakim-a-barber asks iI Uncle Buddy whittled
the 'dash as well, to which Maggie replies that it was Aunt Dee`s Iirst husband, Stash, who made it. Dee praises Maggie`s memory and wraps the items. Mama grips
the handle oI the dasher, examining the ruts and worn areas made by her relative`s hands.
Dee ransacks the trunk at the Ioot oI Mama`s bed, reappearing with two quilts made by her mother, aunt, and grandmother. The quilts contain small pieces oI garments
worn by relatives all the way back to the Civil War. Dee asks her mother Ior the quilts. Mama hears Maggie drop something in the kitchen and then slam the door.
Mama suggests that Dee take other quilts, but Dee insists, wanting the ones hand-stitched by her grandmother. Mama gets up and tries to tell Dee more about the
garments used to make the quilts, but Dee steps out oI reach. Mama reveals that she had promised Maggie the quilts. Dee gasps, arguing that Maggie won`t appreciate
the quilts and isn`t smart enough to preserve them. But Mama hopes that Maggie does, indeed, designate the quilts Ior everyday use.
Dee says that the priceless quilts will be destroyed. Mama says that Maggie knows how to quilt and can make more. Maggie shuIIles in and, trying to make peace,
oIIers Dee the quilts. When Mama looks at Maggie, she is struck by a strange Ieeling, similar to the spirit she Ieels sometimes in church. Impulsively, she hugs Maggie,
pulls her into the room, snatches the quilts out oI Dee`s hands, and places them in Maggie`s lap. She tells Dee to take one or two oI the other quilts. As Dee and Hakim-
a-barber leave, Dee inIorms Mama that Mama does not understand her own heritage. Kissing Maggie, Dee tells her to try and improve herselI and that it`s a new day Ior
black Americans. Mama and Maggie watch the car drive oII, then sit in the quiet oI the yard until bedtime.

A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
One day, while killing crabs during a rainstorm that has lasted Ior several days, Pelayo discovers a homeless, disoriented old man in his courtyard who happens to have
very large wings. The old man is Iilthy and apparently senile, and speaks an unintelligible language. AIter consulting a neighbor woman, Pelayo and his wiIe, Elisenda,
conclude that the old man must be an angel who had tried to come and take their sick child to heaven. The neighbor woman tells Pelayo that he should club the angel to
death, but Pelayo and Elisenda take pity on their visitor, especially aIter their child recovers.
Pelayo and Elisenda keep the old man in their chicken coop, and he soon begins to attract crowds oI curious visitors. Father Gonzaga, the local priest, tells the people
that the old man is probably not an angel because he`s shabby and doesn`t speak Latin. Father Gonzaga decides to ask his bishop Ior guidance.
Despite Father Gonzaga`s eIIorts, word oI the old man`s existence soon spreads, and pilgrims come Irom all over to seek advice and healing Irom him. One woman
comes because she`d been counting her heartbeats since childhood and couldn`t continue counting. An insomniac visits because he claims that the stars in the night sky
are too noisy. The crowd eventually grows so large and disorderly with the sick and curious that Elisenda begins to charge admission. For the most part, the old man
ignores the people, even when they pluck his Ieathers and throw stones at him to make him stand up. He becomes enraged, however, when the visitors sear him with a
branding iron to see whether he`s still alive.
Father Gonzaga does his best to restrain the crowd, even as he waits Ior the Church`s opinion on the old man. The crowd starts to disperse when a traveling Ireak show
arrives in the village. People Ilock to hear the story oI the so-called spider woman, a woman who`d been transIormed into a giant tarantula with the head oI a woman
aIter she`d disobeyed her parents. The sad tale oI the spider woman is so popular that people quickly Iorget the old man, who`d perIormed only a Iew pointless
semimiracles Ior his pilgrims.
Pelayo and Elisenda have nevertheless grown quite wealthy Irom the admission Iees Elisenda had charged. Pelayo quits his job and builds a new, larger house. The old
man continues to stay with them, still in the chicken coop, Ior several years, as the little boy grows older. When the chicken coop eventually collapses, the old man
moves into the adjacent shed, but he oIten wanders Irom room to room inside the house, much to Elisenda`s annoyance.
Just when Pelayo and Elisenda are convinced that the old man will soon die, he begins to regain his strength. His Ieathers grow back and he begins to sing sea chanteys
(sailors` songs) to himselI at night. One day the old man stretches his wings and takes oII into the air, and Elisenda watches him disappear over the horizon.



Bartleby by Herman Melville
"Bartleby the Scrivener" centers on a "scrivener," or copyist, Ior a law Iirm. The story is narrated by the Lawyer, the man who employs Bartleby. The Lawyer has two
other scriveners, Turkey and Nippers, and an errand boy, Ginger Nut. As the story begins, the Lawyer realizes he needs another copyist. A strange young man named
Bartleby answers the ad, and the Lawyer hires him. Bartleby writes swiItly and accurately Ior the Iirst Iew days.
All copies must be examined Ior accuracy, and the Lawyer calls in Bartleby and asks him to examine a document; Bartleby replies, "I would preIer not to." This reply
surprises the Lawyer so much he can't respond. Later, when a large document must be examined and all the copyists are lined up to examine each page, the Lawyer
again calls in Bartleby, who again replies that he "would preIer not to" examine the document. The Lawyer knows he should Iire Bartleby, but he is so puzzled by the
man he allows him to continue working. The Lawyer begins to notice other odd habits about Bartleby. He never eats anything, except snacks. He never leaves the
oIIice. He still reIuses to examine his own papers, always saying that he preIers not to.
When stopping by the oIIice on a Sunday, the Lawyer discovers that Bartleby has been living there. He pities Ior Bartleby's cheerless liIe, but he is still troubled. A Iew
days later, Bartleby tells the Lawyer he is going to stop writing. He gives Bartleby his salary and tells him to leave. But when he returns to the oIIice aIter hours,
Bartleby is still there.
The Lawyer points out the injustice oI Bartleby's remaining in the oIIice when he reIuses to work. Bartleby hides in his corner, and the Lawyer cannot bring himselI to
Iorce Bartleby out. He decides to let Bartleby remain in the oIIice, doing nothing. But aIter the Lawyer's Iriends and clients make some unpleasant remarks about the
squatter in his oIIice, he realizes that allowing Bartleby to stay is bad Ior business. The only answer he can Iind is, iI the scrivener will not leave, then the Lawyer will
have to buy a new oIIice.
A Iew days aIter the move, the Lawyer is conIronted by a small mob oI people who inIorm him that Bartleby is now hanging around inside the building all day. The
Lawyer speaks to Bartleby again, telling him that either he must leave the building, or he will be arrested. The Lawyer even invites Bartleby to stay at his own home,
but Bartleby reIuses. He is arrested as a vagrant and sent to prison. The Lawyer visits him, but Bartleby wants nothing to do with him. Later, the Lawyer again visits
Bartleby, who is sleeping outside in the prison yard. Upon reaching him, he discovers Bartleby has died.
The Lawyer tells the reader that sometime aIter Bartleby's death, he heard a rumor that the scrivener had once been a clerk in the Dead Letter oIIice. He wonders
whether such a depressing job might have driven the man to his deranged behavior.

A & P by John Updike
Three teenage girls, wearing only their bathing suits, walk into an A&P grocery store in a small New England town. Sammy, a young man working the checkout line,
watches them closely. He appraises their looks and notes even minute details about the way they carry themselves. He also speculates about their personalities and their
motivation Ior entering the store dressed the way they are. Sammy is particularly interested in the most attractive girl, who appears to be the leader oI the group. This
girl, whom Sammy dubs 'Queenie, has a natural grace and conIidence, in addition to her beauty. As the girls roam the aisles oI the A&P, they create a stir. As Sammy
points out, the store is in the center oI town, nowhere near the beach, where the girls` attire would attract less notice. Sammy`s coworker Stokesie ogles the girls as well,
joking around with Sammy as he does so. Sammy jokes along with him, but he Ieels the contrast between himselI, still single, and the married Stokesie. Stokesie is
resigned to a liIe oI working at the A&P, whereas Sammy, although admitting that he and Stokesie are much alike, seems to Ieel that such a Iuture is beneath him. As
yet another oI his coworkers begins to admire the girls, Sammy Ieels a twinge oI pity Ior them Ior having compromised themselves this way, most likely without
realizing it. This Ieeling is quickly supplanted by pure excitement as the girls choose Sammy`s checkout line to make their purchase.
Lengel, the store manager, approaches Sammy`s checkout lane. Lengel chastises the girls Ior entering the store in bathing suits, citing store policy. The girls are
embarrassed, and Queenie protests that her mother wanted her to come in and buy some herring snacks. In this statement, Sammy gleans insight into Queenie`s liIe. He
imagines her parents at a party, everyone dressed nicely and sipping 'drinks the color oI water. He thinks about his own parents` parties, where people drink lemonade
or cheap beer.
As the girls begin to leave the store, Sammy suddenly turns to Lengel and quits his job, protesting the way Lengel has embarrassed the girls. Sammy hopes the girls are
watching him. Lengel tries to talk Sammy out oI quitting, telling him that he will regret the decision later and that his quitting will disappoint his parents. Sammy,
however, Ieels that he must see the gesture through to its conclusion, and he exits the A&P. When he reaches the parking lot, he sees that the girls are long gone.
Sammy is leIt alone with his ambiguous Ieelings and a growing sense oI Ioreboding about what liIe has in store Ior him.

Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been? by Joyce Carol Oates
Connie`s mother urges her to be neat and responsible like her older sister, June. June, who is twenty-Iour and still lives at home, works as a secretary at Connie`s high
school. She saves money, helps their parents, and receives constant praise Ior her maturity, whereas Connie spends her time daydreaming. Their Iather works a lot and
rarely talks to his daughters, but their mother never stops nagging Connie. Connie is oIten so miserable that she wishes she and her mother were dead.
Connie is grateIul Ior June Ior setting one good precedent: June goes out with her girlIriends, so their mother allows Connie to go out as well, with her best Iriend.
Connie`s Iriend`s Iather drives them to a shopping plaza in town and returns later to pick them up, never asking how they spent their time. The girls oIten sneak across
the highway to a drive-in restaurant and meet boys.
One night, a boy named Eddie invites Connie to eat dinner with him, and Connie leaves her Iriend at the restaurant`s counter to go with him. As they walk through the
parking lot, she sees a man in a gold convertible. He smiles at her and says, 'Gonna get you, baby. Connie hurries away, and Eddie notices nothing. They spend three
hours together, at a restaurant and then in an alley.
Connie spends the summer avoiding her mother`s prying questions and dreaming about the boys she meets. One Sunday, her parents and June leave her at home alone
while they go to a Iamily barbeque. Connie washes her hair and dozes while she lets it dry in the sun. When she gets hot, she goes inside and listens to the radio. She is
startled by the noise oI a car coming up her driveway. From the window she sees that it`s a gold convertible, and she grows aIraid. She walks into the kitchen, looks out
the screen door, and realizes that the driver is the man she saw in the parking lot the night she met Eddie.
The man grins and begins talking to her. Connie is careIul not to show any interest and tells him several times that she does not know who he is. He gets out oI the car
and points to the words painted on the door. His name, Arnold Friend, is written next to a picture oI a round smiling Iace, which Connie thinks resembles a pumpkin
with sunglasses. There is another man in the car, whom Arnold introduces as his Iriend Ellie.
Arnold asks Connie to get in the car, but she says she has 'things to do. He laughs, and Connie notices he seems unsteady on his Ieet. She asks how he knows her
name, and he says he knows a lot oI things about her. He rattles oII the names oI her Iriends and tells her where her parents are. He demands to know what she is
thinking and tells her that today she is going Ior a ride with him. He asks whether she saw his sign, and he draws a large X in the air. Connie thinks that she recognizes
parts oI him, but she does not know how or Irom where. When she asks him how old he is, he stops smiling and says they are the same age, or maybe he`s just a little
older, which she immediately knows is a lie. To distract her, he makes Iun oI Ellie, who is listening to music in the car. He too looks much older than Connie, which
makes her Ieel dizzy with Iear.
Connie tells Arnold he should leave, but he insists on taking her Ior a ride. She recognizes his voice as the voice oI a man on the radio. She tells him again to leave and
again grows dizzy with Iear as he starts telling her what her parents are doing at that precise moment at their barbeque. She is both horriIied and Iascinated by his
accurate descriptions. Arnold tells Connie that she is his lover and will give in to him and love him. She screams that he is crazy and begins to back away Irom the Iront
door. She tells him to leave and threatens to call the police. Arnold, moving unsteadily toward the porch, tells her he will not Iollow her into the houseunless she
touches the phone and tries to call the police. She tries to lock to door, but her Iingers are shaking too much. Arnold points out that he could break down the door. She
asks him what he wants, and he says he wants her, that aIter seeing her that night, he knew she was the one Ior him. He becomes more threatening, telling her that iI she
doesn`t come out oI the house, he`ll do something terrible to her Iamily when they come home.
Arnold asks Connie whether she knows one oI her neighbors, a woman who owns chickens. Connie, shocked, replies that the woman is dead. Arnold says again that she
should come outside or her Iamily will get hurt.
Connie runs Irom the door and grabs the telephone. In a rushed, blurry scene, something happens: Connie is sweating and screaming Ior her mother; she can`t dial the
phone; and Arnold is 'stabbing her . . . again and again with no tenderness. Oates does not say exactly what happens, but at the end oI the scene, Connie is sitting on
the Iloor, stunned and terriIied.
From the door, Arnold tells her to put the phone back on the hook, and she obeys. He tells her quietly where they`re going to go and tells her to come outside. She
thinks to herselI that she will never see her mother again and tries to Iigure out what to do. At his command, she stands up. She Ieels as though she is watching herselI
walk toward the door, open it, and walk outside toward Arnold. He comments on her blue eyes, even though she has brown eyes. Connie looks out at the vast expanses
oI land behind him and knows that`s where she is going.

Cask oI Amontillado by Edgar Allan Poe
The narrator, 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 himselI at risk. He decides to use Fortunato`s Iondness Ior wine against him. During the carnival season,
Montresor, wearing a mask oI black silk, approaches Fortunato. He tells Fortunato that he has acquired something that could pass Ior Amontillado, a light Spanish
sherry. Fortunato (Italian Ior 'Iortunate) wears the multicolored costume oI the jester, including a cone cap with bells. Montresor tells Fortunato that iI 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 Irom other types
oI sherry. Fortunato is anxious to taste the wine and to determine Ior Montresor whether or not it is truly Amontillado. Fortunato insists that they go to Montresor`s
vaults.
Montresor has strategically planned Ior 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 oIIering to bring Fortunato back home, but
Fortunato reIuses. Instead, he accepts wine as the antidote to his cough. The men continue to explore the deep vaults, which are Iull oI the dead bodies oI the Montresor
Iamily. In response to the crypts, Fortunato claims to have Iorgotten Montresor`s Iamily coat oI arms and motto. Montresor responds that his Iamily shield portrays 'a
huge human Ioot d`or, in a Iield azure; the Ioot crushes a serpent rampant whose Iangs are imbedded in the heel. The motto, in Latin, is 'nemo me impune lacessit,
that is, 'no one attacks me with impunity.
Later in their journey, Fortunato makes a hand movement that is a secret sign oI the Masons, an exclusive Iraternal organization. Montresor does not recognize this
hand signal, though he claims that he is a Mason. When Fortunato asks Ior prooI, Montresor shows him his trowel, the implication being that Montresor is an actual
stonemason. Fortunato says that he must be jesting, and the two men continue onward. The men walk into a crypt, where human bones decorate three oI the Iour walls.
The bones Irom the Iourth wall have been thrown down on the ground. On the exposed wall is a small recess, where Montresor tells Fortunato that the Amontillado is
being stored. Fortunato, now heavily intoxicated, goes to the back oI the recess. Montresor then suddenly chains the slow-Iooted Fortunato to a stone.
Taunting Fortunato with an oIIer to leave, Montresor begins to wall up the entrance to this small crypt, thereby trapping Fortunato inside. Fortunato screams conIusedly
as Montresor builds the Iirst layer oI the wall. The alcohol soon wears oII and Fortunato moans, terriIied and helpless. As the layers continue to rise, though, Fortunato
Ialls silent. Just as Montresor is about to Iinish, Fortunato laughs as iI Montresor is playing a joke on him, but Montresor is not joking. At last, aIter a Iinal plea, 'For
the love oI God, Montresor! Fortunato stops answering Montresor, who then twice calls out his enemy`s name. AIter no response, Montresor claims that his heart Ieels
sick because oI the dampness oI the catacombs. He Iits the last stone into place and plasters the wall closed, his actions accompanied only by the jingling oI Fortunato`s
bells. He Iinally repositions the bones on the Iourth wall. For IiIty years, he writes, no one has disturbed them. He concludes with a Latin phrase meaning 'May he rest
in peace.

Hills Like White Elephants by Ernest Hemingway
'Hills Like White Elephants opens with a long description oI the story`s setting in a train station surrounded by hills, Iields, and trees in a valley in Spain. A man
known simply as the American and his girlIriend sit at a table outside the station, waiting Ior a train to Madrid.
It is hot, and the man orders two beers. The girl remarks that the nearby hills look like white elephants, to which the American responds that he`s never seen one. They
order more drinks and begin to bicker about the taste oI the alcohol. The American chastises her and says that they should try to enjoy themselves. The girl replies that
she`s merely having Iun and then retracts her earlier comment by saying the hills don`t actually look like white elephants to her anymore.
They order more drinks, and the American mentions that he wants the girl, whom he calls 'Jig, to have an operation, although he never actually speciIies what kind oI
operation. He seems agitated and tries to downplay the operation`s seriousness. He argues that the operation would be simple, Ior example, but then says the procedure
really isn`t even an operation at all.
The girl says nothing Ior a while, but then she asks what will happen aIter she`s had the operation. The man answers that things will be Iine aIterward, just like they
were beIore, and that it will Iix their problems. He says he has known a lot oI people who have had the operation and Iound happiness aIterward. The girl
dispassionately agrees with him. The American then claims that he won`t Iorce her to have the operation but thinks it`s the best course oI action to take. She tells him
that she will have the operation as long as he`ll still love her and they`ll be able to live happily together aIterward.
The man then emphasizes how much he cares Ior the girl, but she claims not to care about what happens to herselI. The American weakly says that she shouldn`t have
the operation iI that`s really the way she Ieels. The girl then walks over to the end oI the station, looks at the scenery, and wonders aloud whether they really could be
happy iI she has the operation. They argue Ior a while until the girl gets tired and makes the American promise to stop talking.
The Spanish bartender brings two more beers and tells them that the train is coming in Iive minutes. The girl smiles at the bartender but has to ask the American what
she said because the girl doesn`t speak Spanish. AIter Iinishing their drinks, the American carries their bags to the platIorm and then walks back to the bar, noticing all
the other people who are also waiting Ior the train. He asks the girl whether she Ieels better. She says she Ieels Iine and that there is nothing wrong with her.

ramas
Hamlet by William Shakespeare
O N A DARK WINTER NIGHT, a ghost walks the ramparts oI Elsinore Castle in Denmark. Discovered Iirst by a pair oI watchmen, then by the scholar Horatio, the ghost
resembles the recently deceased King Hamlet, whose brother Claudius has inherited the throne and married the king`s widow, Queen Gertrude. When Horatio and the
watchmen bring Prince Hamlet, the son oI Gertrude and the dead king, to see the ghost, it speaks to him, declaring ominously that it is indeed his Iather`s spirit, and that
he was murdered by none other than Claudius. Ordering Hamlet to seek revenge on the man who usurped his throne and married his wiIe, the ghost disappears with the
dawn.
Prince Hamlet devotes himselI to avenging his Iather`s death, but, because he is contemplative and thoughtIul by nature, he delays, entering into a deep melancholy and
even apparent madness. Claudius and Gertrude worry about the prince`s erratic behavior and attempt to discover its cause. They employ a pair oI Hamlet`s Iriends,
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, to watch him. When Polonius, the pompous Lord Chamberlain, suggests that Hamlet may be mad with love Ior his daughter, Ophelia,
Claudius agrees to spy on Hamlet in conversation with the girl. But though Hamlet certainly seems mad, he does not seem to love Ophelia: he orders her to enter a
nunnery and declares that he wishes to ban marriages.
A group oI traveling actors comes to Elsinore, and Hamlet seizes upon an idea to test his uncle`s guilt. He will have the players perIorm a scene closely resembling the
sequence by which Hamlet imagines his uncle to have murdered his Iather, so that iI Claudius is guilty, he will surely react. When the moment oI the murder arrives in
the theater, Claudius leaps up and leaves the room. Hamlet and Horatio agree that this proves his guilt. Hamlet goes to kill Claudius but Iinds him praying. Since he
believes that killing Claudius while in prayer would send Claudius`s soul to heaven, Hamlet considers that it would be an inadequate revenge and decides to wait.
Claudius, now Irightened oI Hamlet`s madness and Iearing Ior his own saIety, orders that Hamlet be sent to England at once.
Hamlet goes to conIront his mother, in whose bedchamber Polonius has hidden behind a tapestry. Hearing a noise Irom behind the tapestry, Hamlet believes the king is
hiding there. He draws his sword and stabs through the Iabric, killing Polonius. For this crime, he is immediately dispatched to England with Rosencrantz and
Guildenstern. However, Claudius`s plan Ior Hamlet includes more than banishment, as he has given Rosencrantz and Guildenstern sealed orders Ior the King oI
England demanding that Hamlet be put to death.
In the aItermath oI her Iather`s death, Ophelia goes mad with grieI and drowns in the river. Polonius`s son, Laertes, who has been staying in France, returns to Denmark
in a rage. Claudius convinces him that Hamlet is to blame Ior his Iather`s and sister`s deaths. When Horatio and the king receive letters Irom Hamlet indicating that the
prince has returned to Denmark aIter pirates attacked his ship en route to England, Claudius concocts a plan to use Laertes` desire Ior revenge to secure Hamlet`s death.
Laertes will Ience with Hamlet in innocent sport, but Claudius will poison Laertes` blade so that iI he draws blood, Hamlet will die. As a backup plan, the king decides
to poison a goblet, which he will give Hamlet to drink should Hamlet score the Iirst or second hits oI the match. Hamlet returns to the vicinity oI Elsinore just as
Ophelia`s Iuneral is taking place. Stricken with grieI, he attacks Laertes and declares that he had in Iact always loved Ophelia. Back at the castle, he tells Horatio that he
believes one must be prepared to die, since death can come at any moment. A Ioolish courtier named Osric arrives on Claudius`s orders to arrange the Iencing match
between Hamlet and Laertes.
The sword-Iighting begins. Hamlet scores the Iirst hit, but declines to drink Irom the king`s proIIered goblet. Instead, Gertrude takes a drink Irom it and is swiItly killed
by the poison. Laertes succeeds in wounding Hamlet, though Hamlet does not die oI the poison immediately. First, Laertes is cut by his own sword`s blade, and, aIter
revealing to Hamlet that Claudius is responsible Ior the queen`s death, he dies Irom the blade`s poison. Hamlet then stabs Claudius through with the poisoned sword and
Iorces him to drink down the rest oI the poisoned wine. Claudius dies, and Hamlet dies immediately aIter achieving his revenge.
At this moment, a Norwegian prince named Fortinbras, who has led an army to Denmark and attacked Poland earlier in the play, enters with ambassadors Irom
England, who report that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead. Fortinbras is stunned by the gruesome sight oI the entire royal Iamily lying sprawled on the Iloor
dead. He moves to take power oI the kingdom. Horatio, IulIilling Hamlet`s last request, tells him Hamlet`s tragic story. Fortinbras orders that Hamlet be carried away in
a manner beIitting a Iallen soldier.







!oetry
My Papa's Waltz by Theodore Roethke
The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.
We romped until the pans
Slid Irom the kitchen shelI;
My mother's countenance
Could not unIrown itselI.
The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.
You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me oII to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.

Daddy by Sylvia Plath
You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a Ioot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.
Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died beIore I had time ----
Marble-heavy, a bag Iull oI God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal
And a head in the Ireakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters oII the beautiIul Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.
In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped Ilat by the roller
OI wars, wars, wars.
But the name oI the town is common.
My Polack Iriend
Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your Ioot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.
It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene
An engine, an engine,
ChuIIing me oII like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.
The snows oI the Tyrol, the clear beer oI Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit oI a Jew.
I have always been scared oI you,
With your LuItwaIIe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You ----
Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the Iace, the brute
Brute heart oI a brute like you.
You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have oI you,
A cleIt in your chin instead oI your Ioot
But no less a devil Ior that, no not
Any less the black man who
Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.
But they pulled me out oI the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model oI you,
A man in black with a MeinkampI look
And a love oI the rack and the screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm Iinally through.
The black telephone's oII at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.
II I've killed one man, I've killed two ----
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood Ior a year,
Seven years, iI you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.
There's a stake in your Iat black heart
And the villagersnever liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through.

Sonnet 130 by William Shakespeare
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is Iar more red than her lips' red;
II snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
II hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perIumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that Irom my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a Iar more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with Ialse compare.

Aunt JenniIer`s Tigers by Adrienne Rich
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is Iar more red than her lips' red;
II snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
II hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perIumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that Irom my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a Iar more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with Ialse compare.

The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume oI Iorgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As oI some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the Iloor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease oI sorrow - sorrow Ior the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here Ior evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling oI each purple curtain
Thrilled me - Iilled me with Iantastic terrors never Ielt beIore;
So that now, to still the beating oI my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your Iorgiveness I implore;
But the Iact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so Iaintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, Iearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream beIore;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than beIore.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I Ilung the shutter, when, with many a Ilirt and Ilutter,
In there stepped a stately raven oI the saintly days oI yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien oI lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust oI Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad Iancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum oI the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering Irom the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly Iowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as iI his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing Iurther then he uttered - not a Ieather then he Iluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other Iriends have Ilown beIore -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have Ilown beIore.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught Irom some unhappy master whom unmerciIul disaster
Followed Iast and Iollowed Iaster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges oI his hope that melancholy burden bore
OI "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in Iront oI bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myselI to linking
Fancy unto Iancy, thinking what this ominous bird oI yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird oI yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the Iowl whose Iiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perIumed Irom an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose Ioot-Ialls tinkled on the tuIted Iloor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe Irom thy memories oI Lenore!
QuaII, oh quaII this kind nepenthe, and Iorget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing oI evil! - prophet still, iI bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing oI evil! - prophet still, iI bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden iI, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign oI parting, bird or Iiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token oI that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak Irom out my heart, and take thy Iorm Irom oII my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never Ilitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust oI Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming oI a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the Iloor;
And my soul Irom out that shadow that lies Iloating on the Iloor
Shall be liIted - nevermore!






My Last Duchess by Robert Browning
That`s my last Duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as iI she were alive. I call
That piece a wonder, now: Fra PandolI`s hands
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.
Will`t please you sit and look at her? I said
'Fra PandolI by design, Ior never read
Strangers like you that pictured countenance,
The depth and passion oI its earnest glance,
But to myselI they turned (since none puts by
The curtain I have drawn Ior you, but I)
And seemed as they would ask me, iI they durst,
How such a glance came there; so, not the Iirst
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, `twas not
Her husband`s presence only, called that spot
OI joy into the Duchess` cheek: perhaps
Fra PandolI chanced to say 'Her mantle laps
Over my lady`s wrist too much, or 'Paint
Must never hope to reproduce the Iaint
HalI-Ilush that dies along her throat: such stuII
Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough
For calling up that spot oI joy. She had
A hearthow shall I say?too soon made glad,
Too easily impressed; she liked whate`er
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.
Sir, `twas all one! My Iavour at her breast,
The dropping oI the daylight in the West,
The bough oI cherries some oIIicious Iool
Broke in the orchard Ior her, the white mule
She rode with round the terraceall and each
Would draw Irom her alike the approving speech,
Or blush, at least. She thanked men,good! but thanked
SomehowI know not howas iI she ranked
My giIt oI a nine-hundred-years-old name
With anybody`s giIt. Who`d stoop to blame
This sort oI triIling? Even had you skill
In speech(which I have not)to make your will
Quite clear to such an one, and say, 'Just this
Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss,
Or there exceed the markand iI she let
HerselI be lessoned so, nor plainly set
Her wits to yours, Iorsooth, and made excuse,
E`en then would be some stooping; and I choose
Never to stoop. Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt,
Whene`er I passed her; but who passed without
Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;
Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands
As iI alive. Will`t please you rise? We`ll meet
The company below, then. I repeat,
The Count your master`s known muniIicence
Is ample warrant that no just pretence
OI mine Ior dowry will be disallowed;
Though his Iair daughter`s selI, as I avowed
At starting, is my object. Nay, we`ll go
Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,
Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,
Which Claus oI Innsbruck cast in bronze Ior me!










The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.

In a Station oI the Metro by Ezra Pound
The apparition oI these Iaces in the crowd;
petals on a wet, black bough.

Poem 465 by Emily Dickinson
I heard a Fly buzz -- when I died --
The Stillness in the Room
Was like the Stillness in the Air --
Between the Heaves oI Storm --

The Eyes around -- had wrung them dry --
And Breaths were gathering Iirm
For that last Onset -- when the King
Be witnessed -- in the Room --

I willed my Keepsakes -- Signed away
What portion oI me be
Assignable -- and then it was
There interposed a Fly --

With Blue -- uncertain stumbling Buzz --
Between the light -- and me --
And then the Windows Iailed -- and then
I could not see to see

You Fit Into Me Margaret Atwood
You Iit into me
like a hook into an eye

a Iish hook
an open eye



We Real Cool by Gwendolyn Brooks
We real cool. We
LeIt school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

Theme Ior English B by Langston Hughes
The instructor said,
Go home and write
a page tonight.
And let that page come out oI you---
Then, it will be true.
I wonder iI it's that simple?
I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem.
I went to school there, then Durham, then here
to this college on the hill above Harlem.
I am the only colored student in my class.
The steps Irom the hill lead down into Harlem
through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas,
Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y,
the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator
up to my room, sit down, and write this page:
It's not easy to know what is true Ior you or me
at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I'm what
I Ieel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you:
hear you, hear me---we two---you, me, talk on this page.
(I hear New York too.) Me---who?
Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love.
I like to work, read, learn, and understand liIe.
I like a pipe Ior a Christmas present,
or records---Bessie, bop, or Bach.
I guess being colored doesn't make me NOT like
the same things other Iolks like who are other races.
So will my page be colored that I write?
Being me, it will not be white.
But it will be
a part oI you, instructor.
You are white---
yet a part oI me, as I am a part oI you.
That's American.
Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part oI me.
Nor do I oIten want to be a part oI you.
But we are, that's true!
As I learn Irom you,
I guess you learn Irom me---
although you're older---and white---
and somewhat more Iree.
This is my page Ior English B.








Homage to My Hips by Lucille CliIton
these hips are big hips
they need space to
move around in.
they don't Iit into little
petty places. these hips
are Iree hips.
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top!