Rationale
The story ‘’ A Rose for Emily’’ details the loneliness and selfishness of a poor woman, Miss Emily. Miss Emily is not able to face the idea of death. However, after the death of her father, people around town expected her to be in a state of affliction, but unlikely to their supposition she is not.
William Faulkner shows the audience that it is better to accept death than to ignore or hide from it. The writer shows this through the accounts of Miss Emily’s journey, which represent the tragic events that lead to her downfall. This story takes place in the American south, when the racial discrimination was dominating the political system, which is an aspect constantly represented in William Faulkner’s short story.
Therefore, the aim of this written assessment is to produce a descriptive narration focused on the moment where the Board of Aldermen visits Emily’s house. This will contain a redundant description of the atmosphere and the situation described in first person, as if one of the tax collectors that go to Miss. Emily’s house to request the tax payments was narrating it, showing a detailed image of his feelings and his struggles. Finally, for a more complex and accurate description of the story, a description of the portrait found at Miss Emily’s house has been added for deeper investigation into the historical setting of this tale.
The story ‘’ A Rose for Emily’’ details the loneliness and selfishness of a poor woman, Miss Emily. Miss Emily is not able to face the idea of death. However, after the death of her father, people around town expected her to be in a state of affliction, but unlikely to their supposition she is not.
William Faulkner shows the audience that it is better to accept death than to ignore or hide from it. The writer shows this through the accounts of Miss Emily’s journey, which represent the tragic events that lead to her downfall. This story takes place in the American south, when the racial discrimination was dominating the political system, which is an aspect constantly represented in William Faulkner’s short story.
Therefore, the aim of this written assessment is to produce a descriptive narration focused on the moment where the Board of Aldermen visits Emily’s house. This will contain a redundant description of the atmosphere and the situation described in first person, as if one of the tax collectors that go to Miss. Emily’s house to request the tax payments was narrating it, showing a detailed image of his feelings and his struggles. Finally, for a more complex and accurate description of the story, a description of the portrait found at Miss Emily’s house has been added for deeper investigation into the historical setting of this tale.
‘A Rose for Emily’ Narrative.
There I was, convincing myself that there was nothing to fear, nothing to be scared of, but that house, that murky dimness coming out from the locks of the door was making me even more chicken-hearted. It was not the best view to describe; it was not even something that I actually enjoy describing, I still shivering when I talk about that moment when I walked in Miss Emily’s courtyard. The greatest difficulty was trying to hide my emotions, trying to hide the jitters that apparently was moving around my body as with my colleagues, who despite all appearances looked secure, as though without fear.
After a walk through the courtyard, there we were, in the entrance, where that ancient and rusty door was waiting for us, waiting to be knocked on after years of loneliness and futility. Preparing myself I started calming down, getting back the little self-confidence I had. The negro led us in a dark hall, which smelled as though it had been a long time since the house was cleaned dusty. We were in the parlour, waiting for the mysterious Miss Emily to receive us. My eyes were everywhere, looking at the few details that the darkness would allow. The cracked and rotten leather-covered furniture gave the house an ancient and abandoned look; anyone else would have thought that it was an abandoned house as the dust was flying around it.
Turning around I noticed a man’s portrait, from where I could stand out several clues and details. The portrait was of a man, but not a random man, a rich man. The clothes were typically elaborated clothes, the man dressed in a blood-red suit with a classical tie matching the suit. The male figure was also holding a fancy served coconut with a silver support holding it. The background was warm, typical from a big and well-furnished house, illuminated by several candles in the back. The furniture gave a heavy and important look, definitely handcrafted oak furniture. An impressive impeccable carpet was covering the wooden floor; from what I saw, I could honestly state that somebody in the house was assigned to clean this gigantic carpet every time somebody stepped on it. These clues finally brought me to the idea that this imposing figure represented was Miss Emily’s father, who, I gather, was a rich, self-confident slave driver.
When I turned my head again, a gigantic shadow loomed down the wooden stairs, which made an intense sound that echoed in the whole parlour. Suddenly the disturbing sound stopped. And, yes, there she was; after a slow descent down the stairs, she reached the parlour, where my two co-workers and I were waiting to have an important discussion.
Miss Emily was staring at us with a serious yet self-confident expression. I would prefer to not comment about her awful look and the stench that came straight after she had arrived. The situation was emotionless, even though I was still scared; my two co-workers seemed dumbstruck, and so with a strong and secure tone, I decided to start the discussion that everyone in the parlour was waiting for.
There I was, convincing myself that there was nothing to fear, nothing to be scared of, but that house, that murky dimness coming out from the locks of the door was making me even more chicken-hearted. It was not the best view to describe; it was not even something that I actually enjoy describing, I still shivering when I talk about that moment when I walked in Miss Emily’s courtyard. The greatest difficulty was trying to hide my emotions, trying to hide the jitters that apparently was moving around my body as with my colleagues, who despite all appearances looked secure, as though without fear.
After a walk through the courtyard, there we were, in the entrance, where that ancient and rusty door was waiting for us, waiting to be knocked on after years of loneliness and futility. Preparing myself I started calming down, getting back the little self-confidence I had. The negro led us in a dark hall, which smelled as though it had been a long time since the house was cleaned dusty. We were in the parlour, waiting for the mysterious Miss Emily to receive us. My eyes were everywhere, looking at the few details that the darkness would allow. The cracked and rotten leather-covered furniture gave the house an ancient and abandoned look; anyone else would have thought that it was an abandoned house as the dust was flying around it.
Turning around I noticed a man’s portrait, from where I could stand out several clues and details. The portrait was of a man, but not a random man, a rich man. The clothes were typically elaborated clothes, the man dressed in a blood-red suit with a classical tie matching the suit. The male figure was also holding a fancy served coconut with a silver support holding it. The background was warm, typical from a big and well-furnished house, illuminated by several candles in the back. The furniture gave a heavy and important look, definitely handcrafted oak furniture. An impressive impeccable carpet was covering the wooden floor; from what I saw, I could honestly state that somebody in the house was assigned to clean this gigantic carpet every time somebody stepped on it. These clues finally brought me to the idea that this imposing figure represented was Miss Emily’s father, who, I gather, was a rich, self-confident slave driver.
When I turned my head again, a gigantic shadow loomed down the wooden stairs, which made an intense sound that echoed in the whole parlour. Suddenly the disturbing sound stopped. And, yes, there she was; after a slow descent down the stairs, she reached the parlour, where my two co-workers and I were waiting to have an important discussion.
Miss Emily was staring at us with a serious yet self-confident expression. I would prefer to not comment about her awful look and the stench that came straight after she had arrived. The situation was emotionless, even though I was still scared; my two co-workers seemed dumbstruck, and so with a strong and secure tone, I decided to start the discussion that everyone in the parlour was waiting for.