Hi, need to submit a 1250 words essay on the topic Identity in Midwest literature.The sense that one gets, reading the texts, is that identity in Midwestern literature consists of a split, one rich an

Hi, need to submit a 1250 words essay on the topic Identity in Midwest literature.

The sense that one gets, reading the texts, is that identity in Midwestern literature consists of a split, one rich and inward and against the grain of what society expects, and the other outward and lacking enthusiasm, lacking any real depth and anchor within the very core of what the individual holds himself to be. In Kate Chopin’s brief but powerful story ‘The Story of an Hour’ the contrast between a very solid and substantial inner life and the soul-lacking shell that the rest of society sees is very stark. The latter is palpable in the fact that for the main character, the outside world was not even a consideration. The majority of the story occurs within the confines of Mrs. Mallard’s private quarters, and it is here that the real Mrs. Mallard, sans the gaze and judging eyes of even her family, was represented in the story. This intimate, self-conscious self was the self that Midwestern literature seems to point out as the true self, represented here in the character of Mrs. Mallard. This inner self, with the rich inward life, is not just something that one chooses as being the true self, but rather something that insists itself, something that is certain of itself. Encountering this self as a welling up of a feeling of freedom from the depths of her, the story even comes to depict this self as something worthy of the most sublime part of one’s solitude. It is the part that affirms this welling up of an inner voice telling oneself of the truth of one’s existence, and of the truth of who one really is. Chopin expresses this divine moment in the following terms (Chopin):

She was beginning to recognize this thing that was approaching to possess her, and she was striving to beat it back with her will--as powerless as her two white slender hands would have been. When she abandoned herself a little whispered word escaped her slightly parted lips. She said it over and over under the breath: "free, free, free!" The vacant stare and