Jeanschmidt Satire

“On the outskirts of town, within the verge of the peninsula, but not in close vicinity to any other habitation, there was a small thatched cottage. It had been built by an earlier settler, and abandoned because the soil about it was too sterile for cultivation, while its comparative remoteness put it out of the sphere of that social activity which already marked the habits of the emigrants. It stood on the shore, looking across a basin of the sea at the forest-covered hills toward the west.”

The text is very descriptive and loaded with symbols. The author takes the opportunity to relate elements of setting with symbols with meanings beyond the first reading’s impressions. The house that the characters rent for the summer as well as the surrounding scenery are introduced right from the beginning. It is an isolated house, situated "quite three miles from the village"(947); this location suggests an isolated environment. Because of its "colonial mansion"(946) look, and its age and state of degradation, of the house, a supernatural hypothesis is implied: the place is haunted by ghosts. This description also suggests stability, strength, power and control. It symbolizes the patriarchal oriented society of the author’s time. The image of a haunted house is curiously superimposed with light color elements of setting: a "delicious garden"(947), "velvet meadows"(950), "old-fashioned flowers, and bushes and gnarly trees"(948) suggest bright green. The room has "air and sunshine galore"(947), the garden is "large and shady"(947) and has "deep-shaded arbors"(948). The unclean yellow of the wallpaper is

“It’s not everyday we get company around here,” I reminded myself, “we haven’t shown our chateau in ages.” As we walked down the elegant staircase, each step creaked one by one. My hand-held lamp with the bright, burning fire was in clutch as we walked around the dusty furniture until we saw some of my men. They were silent, but you could see the fear in their eyes - almost like the fear in Rainsford’s. One had the guts to come up, and offer another light looking for a way to impress me with his concern, but I quickly declined.

There was a relaxing feeling coming from the room. The colors were pretty mellow such as the cream-colored walls. Although the room gave off this aura, there was a very elegant tea set in the middle of the room. The wall contained a fireplace while the corner of the room contained a combination of both a bookshelf and a desk. The desk had a pair of golden glasses that belonged to one of the men who lived in the home (I can’t recall exactly who they belonged to). Aside from these things, the room also contained what looked like a very comfortable couch. The guide stated that all of the pieces in the house aside from one fireplace and most of the replicated sales pieces in the General Store.

A review of the house itself suggests that an architectural hierarchy of privacy increases level by level. At first, the house seems to foster romantic sensibilities; intrigued by its architectural connotations, the narrator embarks upon its description immediately--it is the house that she wants to "talk about" (Gilman 11). Together with its landscape, the house is a "most beautiful place" that stands "quite alone . . . well back from the road, quite three miles from the village" (Gilman 11). The estate's grounds, moreover, consist of "hedges and walls and gates that lock" (Gilman 11). As such, the house and its grounds are markedly depicted as mechanisms of confinement--ancestral places situated within a legacy of control and

After a long walk down we finally reached the place where the Amontillado lied in wait. The tiresome journey would all be worth it for a taste of such a rare find—during carnival of all times! My dear friend directed me deeper into the crypt which was difficult to see in with the dim light that emanated from the torch he gave me. He mentioned the name of that fool Luchresi again, Ha! He does not deserve a taste of this rarity- he cannot tell Amontillado from Sherry. I continued to walk forward until I felt my fingertips brush against the damp, cold wall. Confused, I seem to have reached the end of the room. Since I was a bit disoriented from my earlier drinking I assumed I might have walked right passed the Amontillado. Suddenly, I felt

The lobby of the building was a brightly colored half-circle with hanging light-fixtures that cast a warm orange glow across the cream colored carpet and the numerous potted plants. A cheery receptionist sat behind the front desk, a holo-screen in

The Angels lived in fancy but unusual apartment. In the living room there was a white-lacquered grand piano named Pegasus that looked like it had wings. There was also Robert. Robert was a lifelike, technologically advanced sculpture. Another odd item was the “Pork Chair” which was a pink upholstered armchair with wooden hooves for feet. These are a few of the odd decor and furniture described in the Angels’ home.

The lobby of the constabulary was far drier than the water logged tunnel where Hector Lajunas had engineered his own demise. Well-lit and homey, it was grander than perhaps a constabulary should have been. Marble tiled floors supported white skirts of wood, and a tall red hallway led to the offices at the back of the building. Far above my head, the lobby was capped by an ornately carved ceiling, with pictures of angels and demons staring down at us from above. Thinking about it, it hardly seemed like a constabulary at all. Even so, it was a place which enveloped us in safety. A place where anybody would feel secure.

I need air, he thought to himself, and walked toward the gigantic front doors. He pushed them open, careful not to let the right one reach the point where it always squeaked. The devil of sneaking around lay in the detail, and this house he knew every floorboard and door’s sound of. Aldersley Park was Carver Aldersley’s childhood home, where he had been born, raised and now left to live. It was

Through the use of juxtaposition, the author attempts to represent the complexity of the human mind. The story takes place at an old mansion in a secluded part of town, surrounded by a “delicious garden” (Perkins 130). The narrator describes the home to have been “long untenanted” (Perkins 129) and have a haunted appearance, which leads to create the image of a shabby-looking establishment. Such juxtaposing qualities of the setting could be said to represent the narrator’s own mind; the garden symbolizing freedom and happiness and the house symbolizing her neglected mental

Incorporating remnants of the previous (Walter Burley Griffen) structure, a simple, practical site response was fundamental. Upon entrance the hand craftsmanship is amazing as a “sense of going downwards” towards the waters edge is emphasised through the sloping ‘wave shaped’ ceiling- a post modern metaphorical gesture. Raised to the trusses this effect add’s virtue and admission of light, balanced in contrast with the stepped up kitchen for views over living area’s. An emphasis is placed on passive solar, interplay between in and out and what some call “fat free” spatial organisation. Looking down the hall the angularity “veranda like plan” faces north supplying privacy and sublime views of endless water and headland from every ‘served’ room, with only ‘service’ rooms positioned in the south (diagram

Entering the estate we were immediately greeted by house servants who were informed of our arrival. I must say we were treated quite royaly. We were to occupy two large upper rooms above the grand staircase; it did make one feel kingly, that is myself, for no sooner were we settle in, that toussaint began his famous pacing to and fro under plumes of blue smoke. It reminded me of one of those billowing locomotives I once saw while traversing the American west.

We are in an affluent neighbourhood in France, sometimes in the 2000’s, surely. There lives several affluent families catered by a concierge named Renée. On the fifth floor lives Paloma Josse, inquisitive twelve year old extraordinaire. Life moves slowly.

Here we see a hint of the sort of observations Helen Maria Williams makes in her travelogue A Tour in Switzerland, where many passages dwell on the political and social realities of the inhabitants - such as the lowly status of the peasants in the Canton of Basil (vol. I, ch.VII).