The Awakening by some dipshit feminist writer Kate Chopin. I could tell a woman wrote this because there was no point, no plot, no personal growth or character development, and everyone else in the story was simply expected to cater to the protagonists' wishes or fill some gap in the story to explain away her shitty behavior.
So the manservant guy she had a crush on, well that was because he was really attractive in ways her husband was not (even though she's basically fucking the poolboy at this point).
The bohemian artist who lives in an attic and paints pictures? Well, she's a representation of how deep the main character must be to associate with free spirits like her.
The town rake who takes her out to the horse races? She likes an adventure and a risk (didn't know gambling with someone else's money was risky, but whatever).
Seriously, she's a stay at home mom with all these servants, a couple kids, and all her needs and wants catered to, yet she's still not haaaaappy so she decides to leave and slut it up with the town rake at the horse races. The entire time I was reading this story, I kept asking "Where the fuck is the husband in all this? Why aren't the kids saying anything about how their mother doesn't give a shit about them?"
Check this out.
Quote:Quote:
"Edna felt an indescribable oppression which seemed to generate in some unfamiliar part of her consciousness, filled her whole being with a vague anguish."
I've read amateur smut better than this. Why did I have to read this shit in English class? It sucks dick.
At the end of this nonstory, she still doesn't know what she wants so she drowns herself in the lake, the only real action she took during the entire shitty novel. Everyone reading this in English class was supposed to come to this great enlightenment about how she's oppressed or whatever when she really
could not be more privileged in any respect.