Short story 'A Little of What Was Deserved' with attached commentary

sniffed and inhaled the strong odour of household cleaning products. She balked again and this time was sick. Using a tissue she wiped her mouth. She stood up and looked at her reflection in the mirror and like so many times before wished she was thinner. The only escape she could get from feeling this was to be sick and this escape would only last until she ate again. Her mind flicked back and searched for a time when things hadn’t been this way. She felt she had always been slightly over-weight and yet it had never really played a big part in her life. Until she met him, that’s when things started to change. The past five years she had spent with him were mostly a blur. She didn’t understand why he made her feel so bad. She was used it to it by now though. “If he doesn’t want me,” she thought, “nobody will.” He had taunted and teased her so much about her excess weight she decided one day, to do something about it. She would never forget this day; it was imprinted on her mind. It was the first time she had ever made herself sick. After this it became a regular occurrence, almost normal for her to be sick every day, which soon increased to after every meal. Her husband noticed she has lost a lot of weight and yet instead of being concerned praised her for doing so. She felt more attractive to him this way and deep down all she wanted and all she would ever want was his approval. Her husband knew how she was making herself thinner but it didn’t much bother him. “Better that way than the fat way.” The chime rang in her head. She believed he was right. However, this rule did not apply to him and did not stop him demanding fry-ups for breakfast and consuming more grams of fat than an average household would in a day. The doctor had warned him away from greasy food explaining that it would be the death of him. This she pondered for a while... Each day went by and she let the same tedious routine wash over her. Clean. Iron. Cook. Clean. Iron. Cook. She slaved away in the kitchen most nights and tonight she was preparing him a meal of succulent pork, crisp roast potatoes smothered in a glow of fat, tender broccoli and gravy full with the meaty juices of the pig. Her mouth watered and stomach groaned at her to eat something. She picked at the fat of the pork and raised it to her mouth. She let herself stop thinking. A sharp ring broke her daze and she dropped the fat back onto the plate She turned to see her husband’s mobile phone on the table. She looked towards the ceiling and heard the water running. He was still in the shower. She held the phone in her hand. Would she look at the message? The cold metal burned into her hand. Breathing heavily she turned her back and leant against the door. She turned on the hot tap and only a trickle of water was released. “Good,” she thought. Her hands trembled and she felt sick knowing that if she was caught “she’d be for it” as he so often warned her. Kicked and punched probably. She turned her thoughts back to the object in her hand. The curiosity was too intense. She raised her finger and clicked “O.K” Slowly she read the text message. “Alrite babe. Last night was ‘mazin’ When are we gonna be able to stop sneaking around ay? Aggie. xxx.” She froze. For a long time she just stared at the mobile phone that she held in her hand. There was a sudden bang and she jumped. Turning to see her box of cleaning products strewn across the floor. Bleach, dettol, some sort of pest deterrent, possibly rat poison, window cleaner, polish. It was as if she was being reminded of her role within the house. Her teeth dug into her lip and she was beginning to draw blood, the thin liquid dribbled down her chin, her grip tightened around the phone and her knuckles went white. She placed the phone back down, dabbed her lip and cleared up the products from the floor. Her eyes flicked over to the running water coming from the tap. He was out of the shower. Her life had been a waste. Something inside her clicked.All this time she spent trying to please him and it still hadn’t been enough. She pushed all of her feelings aside and let a cold presence engulf her body. She didn’t think. She just did. Finishing the cooking, she laid the table and poured a cold glass of lager for him and went into the living room explaining tea would be a few minutes late as she was planning something really special. He hit her hard on the face. “Maybe that will teach you to give me my tea at the right time hey,” he sniggered. She blinked then walked mechanically back into the kitchen and searched for the ingredient that was going to make tea that extra bit special. Over the pork she sprinkled it and into the gravy it went. It was ready. She called him to the kitchen for his tea. “Special,” he spat. “I have this every week. What’s so special about it?” “Eat up dear and you will see,” she smiled. It took this to make her realise how much better she deserved. She deserved someone who would love her for her. Not someone that would hurt her so. Who couldn’t possibly even know what love was. Her anger boiled over. She wasn’t going to feel sorry for herself. She was going to show him what she was really made of. Grunting in disgust the man began stuffing his mouth full of the tender pork covered in gravy. She went over to the fruit bowl to get her tea. She slowly peeled a banana. Her hands trembled and she gripped the fruit tightly. So tight her knuckles went white. This will teach him. This will teach him. There was a clattering of cutlery behind her and she turned to see her husband lay crouched over on the floor, spluttering and coughing. His face turning paler and paler, gasping for breath, for help, for her. “Now he wants me,” she thought. “How ironic. I’m through with him,” she spat in disgust. She took her place at the table and watched her husband vomit all over the kitchen floor. “It’s not nice is it?” she smiled. “Doesn’t feel too good huh? What’s it like to have a taste of your own medicine? She asked, knowing full well he was not in any fit state to reply. He squirmed on the floor like a helpless child. She didn’t take her eyes off him and a smile never left her face.” “I’m not going to let him push me round anymore. He can do as I say from now on. Its time for pay back.” she smirked. Commentary to short story Prior to writing my short story I studied the work of Angela Carter, in particular the story, ‘The Bloody Chamber.’ My work was largely influenced by this. The story deals with issues of feminism, emphasis of age, infidelity, sexuality and change/transition. My story considers some of these issues, including feminism, sexuality and change/transition. Angela Carter uses extensive modification, sensory descriptions and figurative language to add emphasis to emotions and interest to actions. ‘The Bloody Chamber’ is an updated gothic take on the original fairytale of ‘Bluebeard’ by Charles Perrault. ‘The Bloody Chamber’ begins with a young innocent girl, The Bride, who travels to Paris to wed a rich powerful man, The Marquis. The journey to Paris is a physical journey for the girl, while the other journey she partakes in, from childhood to womanhood, is a psychological journey. Within the story the girl tells us of her nervous anticipation on becoming married and living in a ‘magical’ castle. We believe this story to be about a fairytale marriage at first, although are suspicions are raised when we find out that the Marquis’ previous wives mysteriously disappeared. Later in the story some dark sinister secrets are revealed when The Bride discovers the bloody chamber, and reveals the secret of where his previous wives have disappeared to when she finds their remains in the form of skeletons or punctured corpses. Angela Carter uses a lot of symbolism within ‘The Bloody Chamber.’ The Opal ring The Marquis gives to The Bride is associated with bad luck and the colour of it, which is red, is associated with blood, death and her future. The choker The Marquis asks her to wear to bed gives him a sense of ownership, it displays connotations of threat and violence and the word ‘clasped,’ describing the choker, shows restrain and control. The castle the Marquis lives in and The Brides’ new home represents gothic traditions and is described as amphibious which displays connotations to slimy creatures such as toads/lizards this could connect to The Marquis and his underhanded behaviour. Also the piano could represent her last drop of independence and the fact it is out of tune may link to her being out of tune with her own surroundings. Angela Carter writes in first person narrative voice to make the feelings of the bride more prominent and to make the reader more involved in the story. I used first person narrative to do exactly the same. The story is narrated in present tense to create tension and build up to a climax. I also wanted these effects in my story so also used present tense. I have chosen to write this story to inform people that domestic violence and intimidation within the home does go on. I wanted to write about this taboo topic to make it more open and make people feel easier when talking about it. My story is used as a form of entertainment to deal with the issue in a more casual way to get through to the reader. As I was writing my short story ‘A Little of What Was Deserved’ I was encouraged by some of the themes in ‘The Bloody Chamber’ and Carters’ extensive use of stylistic features. One feature I have used within my story are sensory descriptions, touch – ‘she felt his breath on her neck’ smell- ‘the pale fair haired woman coughed meagrely at the stench of her husband’ sight- ‘the light bore into her eyes’ sound- ‘her breathing tense as she tried to be as quiet as possible’ I used these to involve the reader in the situation and make it more real for them and to give them a feel of what the characters are like. I also used some figurative language with the phrase ‘wolf-like figure’ this also contains connotations of shady, underhandedness, and is animalistic, describing the man as a wolf. The word ‘snarled’ is also used to describe him. This gives an impression of the character without actually going into detail. Angela Carter uses lots of symbolism and I tried to do the same. Cleaning products are mentioned throughout my story to act as a symbol of the woman’s role in the house, or more what the mans belief the woman’s role should be. Angela Carter also uses a lot of none standard punctuation which I have also tried to do to ‘Clean. Iron. Cook. Clean. Iron. Cook’ I used it here to create sound patterning, to quicken the pace and show the repetitiveness of her day. I used a few interrogatives within my story to involve the reader such as ‘he spoke in a way which made his intentions difficult to understand, was he suggesting this to her, or ordering her to do so?’ and ‘would she look at the message?’ These involve the reader and create more curiosity and suspense within the plot. I used simple sentences such as ‘she didn’t think’ ‘she froze’ and minor sentences ‘she just did’ to create a faster pace and a variety to my sentence structure. Angela Carter often uses simple and minor sentences in her work.