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Filipino haiku – even less restrictive in form as Man’s placid repose and earthly life
the English haiku, and written in To education he dedicates
Filipino Because of her, art and science are born
Man; and as from the high mount above
Haibun – comparable to the essence of a travel The pure rivulet flows, undulates,
journal, the haibun combines So education beyond measure
prose and poetry; the prose Gives the Country tranquillity secure.
serves to vividly describe the Where wise education raises a throne
location or scene, while the Sprightly youth are invigorated,
poetry is meant to capture the Who with firm stand error they subdue
For death in war is done by hands; 2. The ways characters are portrayed:
Suicide has cause and stillbirth, logic; a. Flat Characters (static characters
And cancer, simple as a flower, blooms. or stereotypes)- they have no depth
But this invites the occult mind, and no change; we only see one side or
Cancels our physics with a sneer, aspect of them. Most supporting
And spatters all we knew of denouement characters are portrayed in this way, for
Across the expedient and wicked stones. example, a strict teacher, a helpful
policeman, and an evil stepmother.
COMPREHENSION CHECK b. Round Characters (dynamic
Answer the following questions below: character)- they have more fully
1. Upon reading the word “ambulance,” what developed personalities. We expect the
words or scenes did you associate it with? protagonists and antagonists to be
2. What do you think happened in the poem? rounded individuals who express a
What word or phrase that gave you clue range of emotion and change
about what happened? throughout the narrative, usually
3. Was there a patient? Did the patient live or toward greater maturity.
die? What word or phrase tells us this? C. PLOT
4. What was the feeling of the onlookers? What Plot is a literary term used to describe the
word or phrase tells you this? events that make up a story or the main
5. Can you point out the line that tells you the part of a story.
cause of death? What is the attitude of the PARTS OF A PLOT
author toward death and its cause? 1. Exposition - This is known as the
6. Have the figures of speech helped you beginning of the story where characters
“picture” the scenario described in the poem? and setting are established.
Explain. The conflict or main problem is
7. What is the poem about? introduced as well.
2. Rising Action - which occurs when a
series of events build up to the conflict.
READING AND WRITING FICTION The main characters are established by
the time the rising action of a plot occurs
SHORT STORY and at the same time, events begin to
Short story is a brief fictional prose narrative get complicated. It is during this part of
that is shorter than a novel and that usually a story that excitement, tension or crisis
deals with only a few characters. is encountered.
3. Climax - or the main point of the plot.
ELEMENTS OF A SHORT STORY This is the turning point of the story and
A. SETTING is meant to be the moment of highest
THE NECKLACE
by Guy de Maupassant
The Necklace (1884) is a famous short story and morality tale that is widely read in classrooms
throughout the world.
She was one of those pretty and charming girls born, as though fate had blundered over her,
into a family of artisans. She had no marriage portion, no expectations, no means of getting known,
understood, loved, and wedded by a man of wealth and distinction; and she let herself be married off
to a little clerk in the Ministry of Education. Her tastes were simple because she had never been able
to afford any other, but she was as unhappy as though she had married beneath her; for women have
no caste or class, their beauty, grace, and charm serving them for birth or family. their natural
delicacy, their instinctive elegance, their nimbleness of wit, are their only mark of rank, and put the
slum girl on a level with the highest lady in the land.
When she sat down for dinner at the round table covered with a three-days-old cloth, opposite
her husband, who took the cover off the soup-tureen, exclaiming delightedly: "Aha! Scotch broth!
What could be better?" she imagined delicate meals, gleaming silver, tapestries peopling the walls
with folk of a past age and strange birds in faery forests; she imagined delicate food served in
marvellous dishes, murmured gallantries, listened to with an inscrutable smile as one trifled with the
rosy flesh of trout or wings of asparagus chicken.
She had no clothes, no jewels, nothing. And these were the only things she loved; she felt
that she was made for them. She had longed so eagerly to charm, to be desired, to be wildly
attractive and sought after.
She had a rich friend, an old school friend whom she refused to visit, because she suffered so
keenly when she returned home. She would weep whole days, with grief, regret, despair, and misery.
One evening her husband came home with an exultant air, holding a large envelope in his
hand.
" Here's something for you," he said.
Swiftly she tore the paper and drew out a printed card on which were these words:
"The Minister of Education and Madame Ramponneau request the pleasure of the company of
Monsieur and Madame Loisel at the Ministry on the evening of Monday, January the 18th."
Instead of being delighted, as her-husband hoped, she flung the invitation petulantly across the table,
murmuring:
"What do you want me to do with this?"
"Why, darling, I thought you'd be pleased. You never go out, and this is a great occasion. I
had tremendous trouble to get it. Everyone wants one; it's very select, and very few go to the clerks.
You'll see all the really big people there."
She looked at him out of furious eyes, and said impatiently: "And what do you suppose I am
to wear at such an affair?"
"Why, the dress you go to the theatre in. It looks very nice, to me...."
He stopped, stupefied and utterly at a loss when he saw that his wife was beginning to cry. Two large
tears ran slowly down from the corners of her eyes towards the corners of her mouth.
"What's the matter with you? What's the matter with you?" he faltered.
But with a violent effort she overcame her grief and replied in a calm voice, wiping her wet
cheeks:
"Look here, Mathilde," he persisted. :What would be the cost of a suitable dress, which you
could use on other occasions as well, something very simple?"
She thought for several seconds, reckoning up prices and also wondering for how large a sum she
could ask without bringing upon herself an immediate refusal and an exclamation of horror from the
careful-minded clerk.
"I don't know exactly, but I think I could do it on four hundred francs."
He grew slightly pale, for this was exactly the amount he had been saving for a gun, intending
to get a little shooting next summer on the plain of Nanterre with some friends who went lark-
shooting there on Sundays.
Nevertheless he said: "Very well. I'll give you four hundred francs. But try and get a really nice
dress with the money."
The day of the party drew near, and Madame Loisel seemed sad, uneasy and anxious. Her
dress was ready, however. One evening her husband said to her:
"What's the matter with you? You've been very odd for the last three days."
"I'm utterly miserable at not having any jewels, not a single stone, to wear," she replied. "I
shall look absolutely no one. I would almost rather not go to the party."
"Wear flowers," he said. "They're very smart at this time of the year. For ten francs you could
get two or three gorgeous roses."
"No . . . there's nothing so humiliating as looking poor in the middle of a lot of rich women."
"How stupid you are!" exclaimed her husband. "Go and see Madame Forestier and ask her to
lend you some jewels. You know her quite well enough for that."
Next day she went to see her friend and told her her trouble.
Madame Forestier went to her dressing-table, took up a large box, brought it to Madame
Loisel, opened it, and said:
"Choose, my dear."
First she saw some bracelets, then a pearl necklace, then a Venetian cross in gold and gems,
of exquisite workmanship. She tried the effect of the jewels before the mirror, hesitating, unable to
make up her mind to leave them, to give them up. She kept on asking:
"Yes, of course."
She flung herself on her friend's breast, embraced her frenziedly, and went away with her
treasure. The day of the party arrived. Madame Loisel was a success. She was the prettiest woman
present, elegant, graceful, smiling, and quite above herself with happiness. All the men stared at her,
inquired her name, and asked to be introduced to her. All the Under-Secretaries of State were eager
to waltz with her. The Minister noticed her.
She danced madly, ecstatically, drunk with pleasure, with no thought for anything, in the
triumph of her beauty, in the pride of her success, in a cloud of happiness made up of this universal
homage and admiration, of the desires she had aroused, of the completeness of a victory so dear to
her feminine heart.
She left about four o'clock in the morning. Since midnight her husband had been dozing in a
deserted little room, in company with three other men whose wives were having a good time. He
threw over her shoulders the garments he had brought for them to go home in, modest everyday
clothes, whose poverty clashed with the beauty of the ball-dress. She was conscious of this and was
anxious to hurry away, so that she should not be noticed by the other women putting on their costly
furs.
"Wait a little. You'll catch cold in the open. I'm going to fetch a cab."
But she did not listen to him and rapidly descended-the staircase. When they were out in the street
they could not find a cab; they began to look for one, shouting at the drivers whom they saw passing
in the distance.
They walked down towards the Seine, desperate and shivering. At last they found on the quay
one of those old nightprowling carriages which are only to be seen in Paris after dark, as though they
were ashamed of their shabbiness in the daylight.
It brought them to their door in the Rue des Martyrs, and sadly they walked up to their own
apartment. It was the end, for her. As for him, he was thinking that he must be at the office at ten.
She took off the garments in which she had wrapped her shoulders, so as to see herself in all her glory
before the mirror. But suddenly she uttered a cry. The necklace was no longer round her neck!
"What's the matter with you?" asked her husband, already half undressed.
"What! . . . Impossible!"
They searched in the folds of her dress, in the folds of the coat, in the pockets, everywhere.
"Are you sure that you still had it on when you came away from the ball?" he asked.
"But if you had lost it in the street, we should have heard it fall."
"Yes. Probably we should. Did you take the number of the cab?"
"No."
They stared at one another, dumbfounded. At last Loisel put on his clothes again.
"I'll go over all the ground we walked," he said, "and see if I can't find it."
And he went out. She remained in her evening clothes, lacking strength to get into bed,
huddled on a chair, without volition or power of thought.
He went to the police station, to the newspapers, to offer a reward, to the cab companies,
everywhere that a ray of hope impelled him.
She waited all day long, in the same state of bewilderment at this fearful catastrophe.
Loisel came home at night, his face lined and pale; he had discovered nothing.
"You must write to your friend," he said, "and tell her that you've broken the clasp of her
necklace and are getting it mended. That will give us time to look about us."
"It was not I who sold this necklace, Madame; I must have merely supplied the clasp."
Then they went from jeweller to jeweller, searching for another necklace like the first, consulting their
memories, both ill with remorse and anguish of mind.
In a shop at the Palais-Royal they found a string of diamonds which seemed to them exactly
like the one they were looking for. It was worth forty thousand francs. They were allowed to have it
for thirty-six thousand.
They begged the jeweller not tO sell it for three days. And they arranged matters on the
understanding that it would be taken back for thirty-four thousand francs, if the first one were found
before the end of February.
He did borrow it, getting a thousand from one man, five hundred from another, five louis here,
three louis there. He gave notes of hand, entered into ruinous agreements, did business with usurers
and the whole tribe of money-lenders. He mortgaged the whole remaining years of his existence,
risked his signature without even knowing it he could honour it, and, appalled at the agonising face of
the future, at the black misery about to fall upon him, at the prospect of every possible physical
privation and moral torture, he went to get the new necklace and put down upon the jeweller's
counter thirty-six thousand francs.
When Madame Loisel took back the necklace to Madame Forestier, the latter said to her in a
chilly voice:
"You ought to have brought it back sooner; I might have needed it."
She did not, as her friend had feared, open the case. If she had noticed the substitution, what
would she have thought? What would she have said? Would she not have taken her for a thief?
Madame Loisel came to know the ghastly life of abject poverty. From the very first she played
her part heroically. This fearful debt must be paid off. She would pay it. The servant was dismissed.
They changed their flat; they took a garret under the roof.
She came to know the heavy work of the house, the hateful duties of the kitchen. She washed
the plates, wearing out her pink nails on the coarse pottery and the bottoms of pans. She washed the
dirty linen, the shirts and dish-cloths, and hung them out to dry on a string; every morning she took
the dustbin down into the street and carried up the water, stopping on each landing to get her breath.
And, clad like a poor woman, she went to the fruiterer, to the grocer, to the butcher, a basket on her
arm, haggling, insulted, fighting for every wretched halfpenny of her money.
Every month notes had to be paid off, others renewed, time gained.
Her husband worked in the evenings at putting straight a merchant's accounts, and often at
night he did copying at twopence-halfpenny a page.
At the end of ten years everything was paid off, everything, the usurer's charges and the
accumulation of superimposed interest.
Madame Loisel looked old now. She had become like all the other strong, hard, coarse women of poor
households. Her hair was badly done, her skirts were awry, her hands were red. She spoke in a shrill
voice, and the water slopped all over the floor when she scrubbed it. But sometimes, when her
husband was at the office, she sat down by the window and thought of that evening long ago, of the
ball at which she had been so beautiful and so much admired.
What would have happened if she had never lost those jewels. Who knows? Who knows? How
strange life is, how fickle! How little is needed to ruin or to save!
One Sunday, as she had gone for a walk along the Champs-Elysees to freshen herself after the
labours of the week, she caught sight suddenly of a woman who was taking a child out for a walk. It
was Madame Forestier, still young, still beautiful, still attractive.
Madame Loisel was conscious of some emotion. Should she speak to her? Yes, certainly. And
now that she had paid, she would tell her all. Why not?
She went up to her.
The other did not recognise her, and was surprised at being thus familiarly addressed by a
poor woman.
"But . . . Madame . . ." she stammered. "I don't know . . . you must be making a mistake."
"Yes, I've had some hard times since I saw you last; and many sorrows . . . and all on your
account."
"You remember the diamond necklace you lent me for the ball at the Ministry?"
"Yes. Well?"
"I brought you another one just like it. And for the last ten years we have been paying for it.
You realize it wasn't easy for us; we had no money. . . . Well, it's paid for at last, and I'm glad
indeed."
"Yes. You hadn't noticed it? They were very much alike."
"Oh, my poor Mathilde! But mine was imitation. It was worth at the very most five hundred
francs! . . . "
[The WOMAN scurries into the room wearing an MAN: At work. I’ve fallen behind. I can't keep
apron and oven mitts. She kisses her husband up.
dutifully on the cheek and scurries back towards
the kitchen.] WOMAN: Why not? You spend practically every
waking moment there.
MAN: Wait. [The WOMAN stops.] What are you MAN: Well... recently, they’ve ... ahh ... they’ve
doing? let a few people go.
WOMAN: I'm just finishing up dinner. WOMAN: That's awful! How can they treat
people like that? Just lay them off! It's
MAN: It's ... it's not ready? [Pause.] I don't heartless! Don't they have any sense of social
understand. It's always ready. When I walk in responsibility?
the door, it's— [Pause.] Am I early?
MAN: Well, they didn’t lay them off exactly ...
[He checks his watch.] not in the traditional sense.
MAN: Was there some sort of natural disaster? MAN: Let's just say they’ve been encouraged to
An earthquake? Is there something you're not move on.
telling me? Are you injured?!
WOMAN: Isn’t that the same thing?
WOMAN: No, I just— [Noticing the gigantic
mound of work-related items in the center of [Pause.]
her living-room] What's all this?
MAN: I really shouldn’t talk about it.
MAN: Oh ... nothing. Just a few things from
work. WOMAN: All right.
MAN: No, it's just me—there's no one to WOMAN: All right. Fine. [Pause.] I’ll just finish
manage! I do everything! The whole dinner.
department!
[She goes. The MAN sighs and rubs his eyes. He
WOMAN: The whole department? By yourself? looks around the room, pushes the couch out of
the way, and begins setting up his cubicle. He
MAN: That's not all! I'm also expected to take takes a pile of papers and looks for a place to
incoming calls because there's no receptionist, put them—opens the bureau drawer. His face
fix the computers because there's no tech turns dark as he pulls the “baby” from the
department, field customer complaints because drawer.]
there's no customer service! I'm in charge of
the mail room, the cafeteria, janitorial services, MAN: What is this?!
research and development! Last week, human
resources was let go, the whole department, WOMAN: [Offstage.] What is what?
and I received a memo—which I’d actually
typed myself because there's no secretary— MAN: THIS! What is THIS?!!!
instructing me to familiarize myself with all
applicable state and federal guidelines! [She enters—finds him holding the “baby.”]
Tomorrow, I'm supposed to start mediating all
employee disputes! I have no idea what I'm MAN: How many times have I told you?!
doing! I'd ask the legal department for advice,
but I’ve never studied law so I wouldn’t know WOMAN: You didn’t say—
what to tell myself! And to top it all off, I have
to take the CEO's dog out to poop four times a MAN: There will be no children in this house!
day! At regular intervals! He has stomach
problems and he's on a very strict schedule! WOMAN: It's not—
WOMAN: Well, you’ll just have to tell them it's MAN: No talk of children! No representations of
too much. children! No dolls, no drawings, no finger
puppets!
MAN: I can’t.
WOMAN: But it's only—
WOMAN: Why not? Maybe they’ll hire some of
those poor people back. MAN: I don't care! Get rid of it!
MAN: You don't understand. It's too late for [He throws the doll at her.]
that.
WOMAN: What?
WOMAN: Why is it too late?
MAN: You heard me.
[Pause.]
WOMAN: You ... you want me to—
MAN: Look ... there’s really nothing to worry
about. I shouldn’t have said anything. I'm just MAN: Destroy it! Burn it! Crush it into little
going to have to do some work from home if I pieces! Leave it in an alley somewhere! I don’t
want to catch up, that's all. care! But it can’t stay here! I won't allow it! Not
in this house!
MAN: Have you lost your mind? WOMAN: Please! Don't do this! Don't—
WOMAN: I'm going to keep this baby. I won't [He drags her, screaming, from the door.
let you hurt her. If you touch one hair on her Realizing that she cannot stop him, she
head, I will never forgive you! collapses on the floor and begins to sob
uncontrollably.]
MAN: You don't mean that.
MAN: When I return, I expect dinner to be
WOMAN: Never! waiting.
MAN: Listen to me ... it's not a baby. [In the midst of her sobbing, she begins to
laugh, softly at first, but it grows louder and
WOMAN: I don't care! It's mine! She's mine! overpowers the tears.]
She's all I have!
MAN: What's so funny?
MAN: It's just an object. It has no feelings.
WOMAN: Do you really expect me to cook for
WOMAN: She does! She does have feelings! you after this?
More than you!
MAN: You say that now—you're angry. It’s to be WOMAN: You could put her to sleep. And if she
expected. But in time you’ll forgive me. You wakes during the night, you could hold her and
may even realize I was right. And if not, well ... pat her back.
I'm capable of feeding myself. I didn’t starve
before I met you. MAN: It'd better not wake! I have to work in the
morning!
WOMAN: There are other things I can withhold.
WOMAN: You can't expect a baby to always
MAN: What? sleep through the night. And if you're tired, you
could take a day off every now and then. You
WOMAN: Other things I do for you ... in the have sick days.
dark ... secret things ... places I go ... services I
perform ... words that I say ... certain MAN: I never take sick days!
indignities that I allow ... what if I were to ...
forget? Forget how to do these things? Forget WOMAN: That was before. Work was your only
how to find these ... places? priority. Now there's a child to think of.
MAN: Are you serious? MAN: You see! This is how it starts!
MAN: Fine. You can keep it. MAN: There was a reason I wouldn’t allow you
to have this child!
WOMAN: Do you mean it?! Really?!
WOMAN: Because you're selfish and only think
MAN: On one condition. of yourself!
WOMAN: [Taking the doll from him and cradling MAN: No, because suddenly you expect me to
it gently.] Anything! Anything! take sick days and buy diapers and leave early
to see it perform in school plays! You’ll start
MAN: No one must ever see it. No one. Not calling me during work hours to tell me it's
even me. I mustn’t know it's here. If I find it, I crawling or talking or taking its first poop! Word
will destroy it. starts spreading that I'm not committed to my
job anymore, and next thing you know, I end
WOMAN: But ... [Pause.] Shouldn’t you ... up like the others!
MAN: Shouldn’t I what? WOMAN: What others? The ones who were
fired?
WOMAN: Shouldn’t there be some ... well, some
shared responsibilities? I mean, I shouldn’t MAN: Yes! No! I told you, they weren’t fired!
have to raise her alone.
WOMAN: Then what? [Pause.] What?
MAN: You want to give me responsibilities?
MAN: [Under his breath—almost a whisper.]
WOMAN: Yes. They were killed.
WOMAN: The child. Our child. MAN: They were murdered! Executed!
MAN: The company! Who do you think? WOMAN: I just think ... those poor people ...
someone should—
WOMAN: But ... if the company wasn’t happy
with their performance, why didn’t it just let MAN: Promise.
them go? I mean, in the old fashioned sense?
[Pause.]
MAN: I don't know. You can't expect me to
understand the company's actions. It’s a giant WOMAN: All right. I promise.
corporation. It doesn’t think the way we do.
Maybe it didn’t want them to share trade MAN: Good girl. [He kisses her.] We have to
secrets with the other companies. Maybe it look out for ourselves. There's nothing more we
didn’t want to pay unemployment. Maybe it just can do. It’s not realistic. We go about our jobs—
wanted to avoid paperwork. do the best we can—and try to be happy.
WOMAN: But ... they can't get away with that! [There is a knock at the door.]
Those poor people! We should call the
authorities! MAN: Who's that?
MAN: Shhh! Not so loud! Someone might hear! WOMAN: I don't know.
Besides, the authorities don't want to get
involved. And, to be honest, these were not the MAN: Did you invite someone for dinner?
best employees. I mean, they really did deserve
some sort of punishment. Not death, you know, WOMAN: No. [The MAN looks through the
but they weren’t pulling their own weight, and it peephole.] Who is it?
was all handled very nicely. They threw a party
beforehand and— MAN: I don't know. I can't tell.
MAN: Yes. [He steps out of the way. She looks through the
peephole.]
WOMAN: Before they ... [She motions slitting
her throat. He nods.] It seems a little strange. MAN: Can you see anything?
To throw a party for someone and then ...
WOMAN: No. [There is another knock at the
MAN: It was the company's way of thanking door.] Should we answer?
them for whatever small contribution they'd
made over the years. Each of them had a cake. MAN: I don't know.
One candle for every year of service. It was
really quite touching. Some of them cried. WOMAN: Maybe they’ll go away.
MAN: I shouldn’t have told you any of this, but I WOMAN: Like what?
want you to understand my position. They
mustn’t question my dedication to the company. MAN: I don't know.
Not for one moment. [She nods.] Good. I'm
glad you understand. If I’ve been harsh with [Pause. Another knock—louder. The MAN opens
you, it's only because I knew what the the door. A MESSENGER stands in the doorway
consequences of certain actions might be. You holding a clipboard.]
can see now that it wasn’t out of arrogance or
THE MESSENGER: [Still reading.] Cake will be MAN: I ... I don't remember. It's been—
served promptly at 8:00 AM.
THE MESSENGER: It’s all right. I can check your
MAN: There ... there must be some mistake. file. Just sign here.
THE MESSENGER: As always, tardiness is [The MAN signs reluctantly. The MESSENGER
frowned upon. exits. Silence.]
THE MESSENGER: Chocolate, vanilla, or— WOMAN: No. I ... I don't think so.
MAN: I’ve never even taken one sick day! Not MAN: You don't think so?!
one!
WOMAN: I ... I don't—
THE MESSENGER: Chocolate—
[A sudden realization. Horrified, she covers her
MAN: I'm running more than a dozen mouth.]
departments all by myself! I’ve just memorized
the entire human resources handbook! The MAN: Who?! Who did you tell?!
entire thing! I can quote it for you! Verbatim! I
can quote it backwards! I'm a useful employee! WOMAN: The other day, at the grocery store, I
Ask anyone! I’ll ... I’ll … I’ll work for free! I’ll ... I ran into that woman, you know, from the
even forfeit my— company picnic ... the one with no bra ... with
the cigarettes and the stringy hair—
THE MESSENGER: CHOCOLATE, VANILLA, or
STRAWBERRY?!!! [Pause.] Look ... I'm just MAN: My god! She hates me! How could you—
trying to do my job. I have to look out for
myself, you know. It’s nothing personal. WOMAN: I only mentioned it to make her
[Pause.] Chocolate, vanilla, or— jealous!
MAN: They'd find out the truth. WOMAN: She can count to ten.
WOMAN: I’ll deny it! I never said anything! She MAN: She cannot!
doesn’t have any proof!
WOMAN: She can. Sometimes she skips “seven”
[Pause. He considers this.] because it’s harder than the others.
MAN: We'd have to destroy all the evidence. MAN: You’re making that up!
COMPREHENSION CHECK
Answer the following questions below:
1. What inspired the writer to write the play?
2. What personal experience of the writer was
reflected in the play?
3. Who are the characters? Describe them.
4. Why didn’t the writer give the characters of
the play names?
5. What are the conflicts that the couple face
in the play?
6. Which among these problems can you
relate with?
7. Establish the plot of the play?
8. What literary device/s did the writer use to
convey his message?
9. What reality does the play reveal about
people of the working class?
10. If you were the playwright, how would you
have ended the story?