Sunday, February 28, 2010

Blog #1 Denver

Blog #1


In Beloved, I feel the strongest character was Denver. She had to be the strong one especially when everyone one else seemed to be falling apart. The beginning of Toni Morrison’s Beloved, Denver is hidden behind her mother, Sethe’s shadow. Denver is the only child Sethe has after she has murdered her older daughter when she was small and the boys she had, ran away. Because Sethe can not let her past go, Denver lives a life as a recluse with her mom at 124. She does not have any friends and does not socialize with anyone. At the beginning she had her grandmother, Baby Suggs, but she later dies. Her brothers had already ran away so it just left Denver and her mother, Sethe. Denver’s place away from death and sorrow was in the boxwoods behind her house. There were boxwoods in a circle and with the perfume she wore made it seem peaceful and safe. The light from the sun shining through the boxwoods caused and emerald appearance to her. This was her refuge. She grows up with her hiding place, “First a playroom (where the silence was softer), then a refuge (from her brothers’ fright), soon the place became the point. In that bower, closed off from the hurt of the hurt world, Denver’s imagination produced its own hunger and its own food” (Pgs. 31 and 32).

If she had not had her own place away from the hurt, pain and confusion, she would have likely went mad.

There was a ghost at 124, “Full of baby’s venom,” who wanted her self know to Sethe, Denver, Baby Suggs, and later, Paul D. The ghost throughout does things to let herself be known but not until Denver hears her crawling up the stairs does she know the ghost must be that of a baby climbing the stairs. After that takes place the ghost becomes mean. The ghost was something of a being that Denver could relate to. In the book it said Denver would take the ghost over Paul D. who she felt was trying to take her place with her mother. The ghost would later come out of the water as Sethe’s daughter, Beloved. Now, Denver knew it had to be Sethe’s murdered daughter and took her as a friend. It was easy for her to get close to Beloved since she really did not have anyone remotely close to her age to communicate with. Beloved begins to suck her mother dry by becoming so dependent on her, Denver sees that her mother is quickly losing ground and her mental capability is slipping, because of this Denver is forced to make a change within herself and become dependent enough to go out of her house to seek help. This is a major challenge for Denver since she had not ventured out and was going to have to communicate with others in order to save her family. So she goes to a school teacher and tells her story. That lady and others help with food. Denver is the strong hold of the family. She has to gather food, clean and do clothes. Her mother becomes unable to do the simiplist things and Beloved will not do because she knew she did not have to. This is basically what Sethe did when she killed her daughter and tried to kill her sons, she was trying to protect them from the hardships of slavery and to do that she had to step outside of herself. What Denver did really was not the same as Sethe but what I am talking about is, she had to make a decision to step out of what was comfortable to her to help her family. Her family was starving and needed help and Denver went to get help.

To me Denver is an example of those who kept the slaves moving to freedom. I think she was very strong and had her family’s best interest at heart, just the way someone on the Underground Railway would have.


Thanks Dr. Griffiths for choosing this book for us to read. I have heard of it before but had never read it. WOW! I am posting some interesting info.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Sylvia Plath

Sylvia Plath

I believe Plath and Anne Sexton both had problems finding their real place in the world. As I wrote about Sexton, times were changing for women and they struggled to find their true identity. Plath was on an emotional rollercoaster partly because of her husband’s infidelity. She was so bright and had so much to offer as a writer. I still question why did so many choose suicide as the answer to their struggles. Her piece, Ariel is full of suicidal thoughts. The word choices she used, darkness, nigger-eye berries cast dark hooks, black sweet blood mouthfuls, shadows, deead hands, dead stringencies, suicidal, into the red eye , the red cauldron of morning, all of these words to me point toward someone who is very depressed. I am not saying you can not write dark poems unless you are suicidal but when someone already has a problem with depression writes lines like these, one tends to get the idea they are ready to take their own life. Now when I heard the interview below, I did not get that feeling, it is only when I read her work that I see depression. I feel she wanted to be free and I think that is where Lady Godiva comes into the poem. The freedom to ride her horse and feel free from whatever it was that was binding her. I find it so sad that the two women killed themselves but really had so much to live for. I feel like they were both tormented inside and wanted to get away from that torment and the only way as far as they were concerned was suicide, how sad...

Anne Sexton

The 1950’s and the 1960’s were decades of change for women. Their roles were beginning to change. The housewives of yesteryear were becoming more independent. Some accepted the change and others did not. Women in general had problems feeling important or feeling like they had a place in the world. For some reason I think Anne Sexton was a lot like that. When reading “Her Kind,” it shows a depressed almost dark side of Anne. She had a wonderful gift of writing but I just don’t think she ever really appreciated her talent and what it meant in the world of Confessional Poetry. This was a great clip that I found. It gives me goosebumps to hear her voice and to realize she took her own life.

Frank O’Hara


Until I read, “These things are with us every day even on beachheads and biers,” I was not sure where this poem was going. After reading it through several times it appeared to me this was dealing with Normandy Beach. The war was raging and the things things were tough in the US. Kangaroos, I am not sure of, but chocolate sodas, sequins, harmonicas, jujubes, and asprins were things that people desired. Guys and women in the service at the time would have loved any or all of these luxuries. The beachheads and biers could have been Normandy Beach, and I wonder if the mention of Pearls, could have meant Pearl Harbor.

Theodore Roethke

My Papa’s Waltz

This can be read in different ways, but I think it is a man who possibly has a drinking problem and his daughter is always there for him to romp with. I am thinking this is a man who did not have a son and is treating his daughter rougher than he should. She loves to dance with him for his attention but he does not realize or does not care how rough he is. Sometimes little girls like the attention they get from their dad even if it is bad. These little girls will usually become abused in their relationships with their boyfriends or husbands. It can become a vicious cycle, never ending... Roethke made me think on this one.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010


John Berryman’s 29

Berryman had a way to twist and turn his writings to make them very interesting. In his 29, Berryman seems to show a very dark picture of life. The thing that was so heavy on Henry’s heart to me was the new starts he was trying to have but seemed to never get. The mention of the, “grave Sienese face,” tells me it is a very sullen time. He mentions the woman’s body is hacked up, but no body is missing, shows me that someone has died and they were not even missed. How powerfully sad this is.

Gwendolyn Brooks

Gwendolyn Brooks

of DeWitt on his way to Lincoln Cemetery

This was something I found on Youtube that I liked,

I loved the feeling that was put into this poem. I could feel what the writer was saying and when I listened to it read with the paintings and art work, it helped me really get into it. No matter what he did or where he went, he was still, “a plain black boy.”


Claude McKay

The Negro’s Tragedy was published and you can not help but think of WWII. Those were very turbulent times for many people. The blacks were not given their rights and were still treated as second rate citizens. In this poem, “Only a thorn-crowned Negro and no white man can penetrate into the Negro’s ken,” made me think about Jesus because of the “thorn-crowned Negro.” The mention of the “shroud of night,” again made me think of Jesus. I believe McKay was saying at the end of the poem that our country was going to other countries to help the oppressed people but here in the United States we were overlooking our own. I thought it was a great poem, it will be one I will use one day when I start teaching.

William Carlos Williams

The Widow’s Lament in Springtime by William Carlos Williams

This poem made me think about a widow’s life. This widow had been married thirty-five years and seemed not to know what to do. I see a lot of despair. “Sorrow is my own yard where the new grass flames as it has flamed often before but not with the cold fire that closes round me this year,” new grass is green and lush and should be enjoyed but with the widow she does not feel the softness of the lush grass but instead feels cold and indifferent. She describes the trees that through any other’s eyes would be beautiful but I just don’t think she can feel the beauty anymore since she has lost her husband. She goes on to say,”...but the grief in my heart is stronger than they for though they were my joy formerly, today I notice them and turn away forgetting,” she seems not to want to see the beautiful flowers. The widow’s son tells her about the “trees of white flowers,” that at the edge of the heavy woods. Could the heavy woods be the grief that she has felt and the, “trees of white flowers,” would be the healing after the pain? I am thinking he wants her to heal so she can learn to enjoy life again.

Sunday, February 21, 2010


Robert Lowell, wow, what a writer! I really am partial to Lowell because of his love of history and his love of preserving it. My favorite of his writings is, For the Union Dead. I had to re-read my history to understand the depth of this poem. Lowell had a connection to this poem he wrote because of one of his ancestors had fought in the Civil War at the same time Colonel Shaw was serving with his Black Regiment. I was amazed at how Lowell felt about the “old South Boston Aquarium.” The whole section was sentimental to him, the aquarium and the park where the bronze relief of Robert Gould Shaw and the Massachusetts 54th Regiment. When they torn down the aquarium it was as if they were taking apart of Lowell’s history away. It just seemed so sad to read, For the Union Dead, Lowell was watching the aquarium being destroyed and bulldozed away and the bronze relief of Colonel Shaw was propped up with a stick, this was hard for him.

Lowell was called the “Father of Confessional Poetry,” because he was tired of the same old, same old poetry and called poetry, “raw and cooked,” he met Allen Ginsberg one time while he was in California. Ginsberg had opened up a whole new world of poetry to young people several years before. Lowell took the lead to form a new type of poetry along with Sylivia Platt, Anne Sexton, and John Berryman. What a group they were. Lowell inspired them to become great poets.


When reading They Dream Only of America, I felt like John Ashbery was talking about wanting the freedom to be himself in public. I could be off on this one but I think he was talking about people in America that were homosexual and how he wanted the curtain to open so they could be free to be who they really were. Now, why did I think it was about the homosexual movement? Well, several things in his poem stood out to me, one being, “And hiding from darkness in barns, they can be grown ups now,” and another one was, “The lake a lilac cube.” I looked at these two sentences at someone who had to hide who they were and they had the feeling of being boxed in with no way out. The last two sentences, “For our liberation, except wait in the horror of it,” and “And I am lost without you,” here I think he is saying how he wanted to be free to tell the world who he was but was afraid of what would happen to people if they did. The last sentence I think was quite clear, he was lost with out being with his friend.

They Feed They Lion

I came across this from

Mr. PHILIP LEVINE (Poet): There's no reason why a great poem can't be political, absolutely political.

SILLMAN: Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Philip Levine says by its very nature, great art is political.

Mr. LEVINE: I don't think a great poem is likely to be a poem that urges you to vote for your state senator, but insofar as you champion, for example, the lives of trees and the purity of the air and water, you've already entered a political arena. It's almost impossible not to write a poem that is political if you are a person who loves.

SILLMAN: Thirty-five years ago, Levine often read his work at rallies against the Vietnam War, specifically this poem about what he says was the disproportionate number of young black men sent to die in Vietnam.

Mr. LEVINE: "They Feed They Lion." `Out of burlap sacks, out of bearing butter, out of black bean and wet slate bread, out of the acids of rage, the candor of tar, out of grass, out of creosote, gasoline, drive shafts, wooden dollies, They Lion grow. Out of the gray hills of industrial barns, out of rain, out of bus ride, West Virginia to Kiss My Ass, out of buried aunties, mothers hardening like pounded stumps, out of stumps, out of the bones' need to sharpen and the muscles' to stretch, They Lion grow.'

I read that 5000 anti-war poets were getting together the next day to protest against the war in Iraq. I did not see this as a political type poem dealing with war but with racism.

Adrienne Rich

Aunt Jennifer’s Tigers

The part of this writing that hit me the hardest was the descriptive words about the ring on Aunt Jennifer’s finger. I have had friends that were married for a long time and they went through a lot during those years but had never thought about their rings’ weighing heavy on their finger, hmmmm, that made me think a little deeper on this one. It seems she wanted us to know that life goes on even though someone dies, “The tigers in the panel that she made will go on prancing, proud and unafraid.” Whatever she had been through, Rich wanted us to realized it followed Aunt Jennifer to her grave. I wish she had written more but that is what makes a great writer, when the reader is left wanting more.

My thoughts...

My thoughts...

I am glad I do not have to choose my favorite time section for this class because I have found one is just as powerful as the another. I love history and reading these author’s works has been very intriguing. I know I will use some of these in the future when I teach. I feel it is so important for the students to enjoy learning and showing them different types of literature can open up a new window for them, it has for me. Each week we have read new authors, and each week my window has become open further. Only with a few exceptions, I have liked what I have read and I have felt challenged.

Go Espada

“The Bully,” by Martin Espada is a piece of historical criticism. This piece brought the past into the present with the use of cultural criticism. I love history as I have blogged before and this piece was added to my, “I Like Collection.” Espada’s description of the school was excellent. Espada put a lot of feeling into his writing. He was born of Puerto Rican parents so I feel this could possibly be classified as biographical criticism, what do you think? When reading this I kept thinking about the little guy getting the prize at the end of the race. It may have been a small thing to some but was tremendous to those who disagreed with what took place during and after the Spanish American War. I could write a small book on this issue, anyway, as it turned out there were territories that became American Territories. These people wanted their freedom from Spain but did not want to be controlled by another country. Theodore Roosevelt was viewed as one of the leading forces of this movement. In this writing the school began as a school named after Theodore Roosevelt for his heroic ride to free Latin America from Spain. There was a statue in the school that had remained there since the beginning. As time passed the school received a new name, Hernandez. Espada wrote, “Puerto Rico has invaded Roosevelt with its army of Spanish-singing children in the hallways, brown children devouring the stockpiles of the cafeteria, children painting Taino ancestors that leap naked across murals.” Wow, if that is not pay back at it’s finest. I know there are those that would disagree but it seems that our country has at times in the past taken away the rights of the minoritys who were not strong enough to stand by themselves. This piece has a strong political statement, good job Espada!

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Scalp Dance

Scalp Dance by Spokane Indians

When reading this I could feel negative energy from the speaker. She seemed to be angry at how the Spokane Indians were treated by the artists that came to paint them. It reminded me of how it had always been with the Indians. White man swoops in gets the good stuff and leaves them empty handed. She shows her anger when she says, “When you see me now in that painting dancing with the scalp, you must realize that I didn’t have a husband, that I never danced without a smile, that I never sat still for Kane.” Kane only painted her from memory but to this day people look at the painting and believe she was an angry Indian woman whose husband was killed and she danced with the scalp of those who killed her husband, when it was so far from the truth. Alexie brought out how the speaker wanted the truth to be known. The way Alexie wrote made me angry. I know how the Indians were treated but had never heard or even thought about this type of mistreatment. I found it very odd that Kane was the last name of the artist and the name of the Indians were the Spokanes, so did they feel that this was something else that was taken away from them???

Adrian C. Louis

Adrian Louis’ Dust World, is about a forty year old man visualizing his surroundings and seeing it as it really is. The first thing that stood out to me in this writing was the TBird. Indians viewed the Thunderbird as strength, powerful, and energy of a thunderstorm. Louis chose the man in the writing to drive a Thunderbird because it gave the man power, “...I suck in my gut and lay some rubber.” Throughout this piece he keeps referring to the dirty, ugly, welfare world. The “three teenage mothers,” he keeps refers to are symbolic of ones who preferred to party than to work and make something of themselves. He makes a point of talking about how they flirted with the man even though he was forty years old. Louis mentions, “This is the land that time forgot,” which tells me he thinks of it as desolate or isolated away from civilization. “Here is the Hell the white God gave us,” to me this is saying the white man took everything that was good and left the dirty and bad for the “redskin.”

I like reading Adrian C. Louis’ works, I could see what Louis was describing through out, Dust World.

Friday, February 19, 2010

Evolution by Alexie

Evolution by Sherman Alexie

Sometimes the truth hurts, in this writing it is full of truths. We tend to think about the African Americans and how they were treated when their ancestors were brought here from African to be slaves in the new land, but do we really think about those who were already here when England and other countries sent their ships full of people for a new beginning? Alexie did a wonderful job using Buffalo Bill and a pawn shop in Evolution. The Indians sold their possessions many times to buy what they needed. So much of the Indian’s stuff was taken and not sold buy the Indians. I found it ironic how Alexie used, “The Indians pawn their hands, saving the thumbs for last, they pawn their skeletons, falling endlessly from the skin and when the last Indian has pawned everything but his heart, Buffalo Bill takes that for twenty bucks closes up the pawn shop, paints a new sign over the old and calls his venture THE MUSEUM OF NATIVE AMERICAN CULTURES charges the Indians five bucks a head to enter,” the Indians lost it all to the white man and then in the end to see their ancestor’s possessions, they have to pay a museum to enter, how sad. Not sure how others will view this one but I see it as tragic.

Thursday, February 18, 2010


Louise Gluck is another one of the poets I have not encountered before. I read Penelope’s Song and was pulled into what Gluck was saying. I felt drawn to the words in this poem. I envisioned someone who had a life with secrets tucked away and the narrator is finding out the truth. The use of the spruce tree, I thought was exceptional. I had not looked at a spruce the way she was describing but they do have shelf-like branches. I felt this was a descriptive way of telling the reader about the sentry or look-out. Does this person gather information? Is it in the best interest of the person to continue what they are doing?I think this person must think highly of themselves because she writes,You are not completely perfect either; with your troublesome body you have done things you shouldn’t discuss in poems. Wow, if it could not be discussed in poems, it must have been something regrettable or something no one should know about. So, I wonder what it was? There is passion with in this poem and the mention of demonic appetite makes me wonder in what direction this is going in. She uses the tree again at the end of her poem, must shake the boughs of the tree to get his attention, and... but carefully, carefully, lest his beautiful face be marred by too many needles. I can not wait to discuss this one. It seems so full of possibilities. I found another poem I liked that Gluck had also written, The Fear of Burial , I found it very open with honest type feelings. I really like the way she wrote this. It is sort of sad how the spirit just sits beside the body. I sat for a minute after I read this and shut my eyes to see what she was saying. I noticed at the end she wrote about the heaviness of the door, milk, and bread. I was thinking of the sorrow the ones who were left behind were feeling. I really like her style.

The Fear of Burial

In the empty field, in the morning,
the body waits to be claimed.
The spirit sits beside it, on a small rock--
nothing comes to give it form again.

Think of the body's loneliness.
At night pacing the sheared field,
its shadow buckled tightly around.
Such a long journey.

And already the remote, trembling lights of the village
not pausing for it as they scan the rows.
How far away they seem,
the wooden doors, the bread and milk
laid like weights on the table.

from Descending Figure. © 1980 Louise Gl├╝ck. Online Source

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Sea Oak

Sea Oak by George Saunders

Yuck, you rarely hear me say that about something I have read, but yuck. I am sure there are people who like reading such as this but not me. It is out of my box. Out of all of the writings I have read, this one is my least favorite. Sometimes slang language adds to the writing but in this one, to me it took away from the story. Actually, the subject matter was tacky. To get a full view of writers and their works I understand we have to read short stories, poems, and books that we disagree with the content. This one is most definitely high on my disagree with content list. I have to add, now I have been exposed to readings I would not have normally have been exposed to.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Raymond Carver

What We Talk About When We Talk About Love by Raymond Carver

So with this story, I felt as if I was sitting in one of the chairs listening to the four talking about love. One of the first things I noticed was how Carver used the sunshine in the window all through out the whole story. At the beginning of the story, the sunshine filled the kitchen. You notice the four talked all day and into the night until the room went dark. I think there is something there. Carver did not put that in the story just for us to know what time of day it was. I am thinking it was about life in general. I know the story is about love but it is also about life and how we live it. Carver hit some heart strings with the story about the elderly couple. In this story he shows several types of love. The deep unconditional love an old man had for his wife and how he had become so depressed because he could not see her because of the wrappings on his face. Then you had the dangerous type of love that was described by Terri. I was appaulded at the idea that she could still care about Ed eventhough he tried to kill her and had threatened her. Actually, that is sort of an unconditional love in itself, stange as it may seem. Anyway, the four are sitting around drinking to the point where the day was gone and the Gin was also. They kept talking about going out to eat at a better place. I had to wonder if they were really taking about eating or were they talking about Heaven??? I guess, Carver knew the answer to that.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

The Balloon by Donald Barthelme

I wish I had the time to really go through this one paragraph by paragraph. I can tell there is so much in the piece. The balloon starts off at Fourteenth Street in New York City. There is some personification involved with the balloon, “But experiencing a faint irritation at stopping...” The balloon continues through different sections of the city. At times children were jumping to catch it and then there were people who thought it was “interesting.” Hostility was mentioned and I wondered what type of balloon were we reading about? It evidentually was not for kids and it talked about the hidden gas valves. For some reason I am thinking we were in a recession at the time this was written. So is there a connection??? I think the “heavy feeling” might have been from the state of our country at that time. Could the protagonist be the people of NY and the antagonist be the economy???

The Man-Moth by Elizabeth Bishop

Elizabeth Bishop’s, “The Man-Moth”

Right off the bat with this one I can see there is a connection between man and the life of a moth. As I read I could see the relationship between a moth and a man. The man who is lonely and wanting to be loved, "He does not see the moon; he observes only her vast properties, feeling the queer light on his hands, neither warm nor cold, of a temperature impossible to record in thermometers." This sounded like someone who might be depressed; maybe just getting by. The Man-Moth is looking up at the moon,“He thinks the moon is a small hole at the top of the sky, proving the sky quite useless for protection.” I am thinking this is someone who is looking at the moon as a goal to shoot for, but the moth falls. “But what the Man-Moth fears most he must do, although he fails, of course, and falls back scared but quite unhurt.” This is why I am thinking he is, trying for something and just can not quite get to it. Even though it talks about the Man-Moth, I think it is talking about people in the subways going to and from work, "Each night he must be carried through artificial tunnels and dream recurrent dreams." Can't you see people getting into the subway going home at night dreaming of what they could do and wanting to do it? The line, "Then from the lids one tear, his only possession, like the bee's sting slips," this is a strong statement but I am still trying to figure this into the reading. I can not wait until tonight so I can hear other's ideas and comments on this one!

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

John Updike's A&P

“A & P” by John Updike

This is another piece that I could look at as actually taking place. Here this guy is doing his job at the A & P when suddenly he notices these girls coming into the store. He immediately knows they have come from the beach which is not too far from the beach. The rest of the story is about how he and others notice the girls and the bathing suits they have on. Usually, I see the antagonist somewhere in the beginning or at the middle, but with this story the antagonist comes toward the end of the story. Mr. Lengel did not approve of the girls attire in the grocery store and was ready to let them know. Sammy was the protagonist who was standing up to Mr. Lengel and in the end gave up his job to prove he did not like how the girls were treated. I think to begin with he thought maybe the girls heard what was going on but they just walked out. So why did Sammy go ahead and give up his job? Was it pride or did he feel some type of justification by doing what he did. I tend to think it was a little of both. Throughout the reading we see very discriptive words, for example, “Do you really think it’s a mind in there or just a little buzz like a bee in a glassjar?” This is a simile. Another simile is, “...this clean bare plane of the top of her chest down from the shoulder bones like a dented sheet of metal tilted in the light.” Updike used discriptive language to keep the reader’s attention and boy did he do a great job. Updike suprised me when he had Sammy say, ”All of the sudden I slid right down her voice into her livingroom.” Wow! That got my attention. That was a great way to transition to another place or another thought. This was another great read!!

Olsen's "I Stand Here Ironing"

Olsen’s “I Stand Here Ironing”

This one tugged at my heart. Being the mother of four children, I could really feel for the mother. It is hard when you have small children. My first one was four when the second one was adopted and then we adopted two more at two years apart. A mother feels stretched; she feels exhausted and tired. This story really bothered me. The mother was going from work to taking care of children and then back to work. When I began reading this reading I could not understand the first line, “I stand here ironing, and what you asked me moves tormented back and forth with the iron.” Now, I understand that as she irons she is thinking about the past with each stroke of the iron. The story follows the life of the woman’s daughter, and the regrets the woman has had due to the distance (physically and mentally) that has been placed between her and her daughter. This is all due to living in a time and place where poverty was common place. “I Stand Here Ironing,” really bothered me. It troubled me to read it. I feel the antagonist in this piece is not a person but poverty. I have always looked at the antagonist as a person, animal, or another type of living thing and not a situation. The speaker or narrator would be the woman. We seen flashbacks throught out this piece which helps us understand what the woman, daughter, and the other children went through.

Why I Live at the P.O. by Eudora Welty

“Why I Live at the P.O.”

Eudora Welty was able to capture a small town family in an exceptional way. There is so much drama in this story. I have to wonder, was there incest? When Sister mentioned how Shirley T looked like Papa-Daddy, she must have thought there was a sexual encounter between her dad and her sister, Stella-Rondo. No one jumps out to say anything about Papa-Daddy as far as incest is concerned. Wouldn’t you think someone would have made a “stink” about that if it were not happening???? Could Stella-Rondo have been pregnant with her daddy’s baby when she left and really never married Mr. Whitaker? Oh, and the pearl necklace, that sounded strange to me. It did not say her mom and dad gave it to her, it only said Papa-Daddy. Hmmm, sounds suspicious to me. What about the sentence, “Stella-Rondo just calmly takes off this hat, I wish you could see it?” Why doesn’t Welty say, “her hat?” What is up with that??? There has to be something there.Could this mean her past? Maybe she took it off and put it behind her, just as someone might put their past behind them. Once Stella-Rondo came on the scene, life for Sister changed. She could see how her family thought the sun rose and set on Stella-Rondo. I cannot help but think about the Prodigal Son in the Bible. He went off and lived it up while the others stayed home and worked. When he came home there was a feast and excitement from his father. I see the Post Office as Sister’s refuge. In this story the antagonist would be Stella-Rondo. The protagonist is Sister. The conflict is easy to see in this story. We see it as soon as Stella-Rondo comes home. The point of view must be Sister’s because the story is told from a first person view point.