A Close Reading of Cecily Cardew

A/N: A Close Reading of the character of Cecily Cardew in Ocar Wilde’s play The Importance of Being Earnest. If anyone is interested in reading the play, it can be found online for free.

The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde is a humorously satirical play that premièred in 1895 at the St. James’ Theatre in London. With its witty dialogue and high farce it is as humorous today as it was at the time of the première, where the critical reception was positive, and the production was considered hugely successful. The actor who played the part of Algernon Moncrieff stated that “I never remembered a greater triumph, the audience rose to their seats and cheered and cheered again” (Moss).

The selected production for the extract chosen for this close reading is a videotaped recording from February 14, 2013, directed by Chris Kauffman Gettysburg and played by the Gettysburg College’s The Owl and Nightingale Players.

The Importance of Being Earnest is about two friends, who both live deceitful lives. Algernon Moncrieff has invented a friend, whom he uses as an excuse whenever he wants to get out of an unwanted social event, while his friend Jack Worthing has invented an entire new persona; his wicked brother Earnest. This is done so he can live a less than perfectly moral life, while at the same time appear morally correct to his ward, the young ms. Cecily Cardew, which, however, gets the opposite effect as she fancies herself in love with Earnest through Jack’s stories about his wicked brother.

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The Little Girl, Who Never Grew Up

A/N: A short story, where I had a lot of trouble deciding on the ending – so let me know what you think!

Once upon a time there was a couple, who seemed to have everything. They were a handsome couple with a good income, and a charismatic personality. They were the perfect image of what a couple was supposed to be like, and this image only became more perfect when they had a perfect little girl.

The little girl was named Lucy, and she was in her parents’ eyes the most perfect little girl there had ever existed. She truly was a beautiful child with her lithe build and heart-shaped face, her rosy lips and her doe-brown eyes. She was a beautiful little girl and people would often comment on this.

Oh, what a beautiful little girl,” they would say. “She’s the prettiest little girl I have ever seen. If only she were to stay that way forever.”

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The Wedding Shop

A/N: Another flash fiction! (Though this one was almost a short story)

There were few things Riley detested quite as much as the myth of Happily Ever After.

The idea that if only you met a man, your soul mate so to speak, your life would instantly become perfect and you would have nothing else to wish for. Well, perhaps a couple of children. Perfect copies of your perfect man. And because they were so perfect and he was so perfect, your life would be perfect as well. A little world of rainbows and sunshine.

The mere thought of it made her want to hurl.

Which was probably why a bridal shop hadn’t been her first choice as a job opportunity.

But it was 2009 and in the midst of the economic crisis you took what you could get. Even if you hated weddings, and your job was to tell a bride twenty times a day that she looked like a ‘real-life princess’. You had to pay the bills somehow or another.

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A/N: My first finished SF! Ever! I wanted to try something new, so I hope the result is acceptable! Enjoy!

It was the year of 2384, and there had just been yet another election. Yet another choice of leader.

Elisa Parker, a generally average citizen, had always considered herself to be sensibly skeptical of everything that simply seemed too good to be true, so when Bernard Summer had first started appearing as a candidate as the successive Head of State, she hadn’t believed his lies.

He promised to end corruption, to close the huge gap between the rich and the poor, to not let the wealthy make the decisions in his place. He promised that anyone should have free health care, and Elisa had looked down on her missing arm with a cynical smile; a souvenir from an explosion in the laboratory. She had been supposed to get a prosthesis, but for reasons she was never truly explained, that had simply never happened.

Summer promised that those kinds of things would never happen under his reign. That anyone should have access to decent health care as well as a decent standard of living. The same old promises, which every candidate came with.

But when Summer actually won the election, something most unusual happened. He kept his promises.

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A Second Chance

A/N: Yet another Rumplestiltskin/Belle story. Pure fluff. I do love them!

We’re pregnant.”

And just like that his life was changed.

“What?” He must have misheard. Please Gods, please have let him misheard.

“We’re pregnant,” Belle said again and gave him a hesitant smile. She was happy about this, he could see. Her eyes were shining, and even though there was something fragile in her smile, something scared, his little Belle was being as brave as ever.

Unlike him.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been a father, and the first time it had, at first, seemed to come naturally to him. He’d fed Bae, changed him, played with him, comforted him, but when it had come down to it he hadn’t been able to protect him, and his son had died. Because of him. Because he was an awful father just like he was trying so desperately hard not to be an awful husband to Belle.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized. This was his fault. He should have been more careful. He should have protected them better. “Belle, I’m so sorry.” Belle was kind. Too kind to leave him for knocking her up.

“I’m not,” she said, catching his hand in both of hers. “I’m just sorry that you seem to be.”

“Belle, you deserve a better father for your child than me.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Who could possibly be a better father for my child than my husband? Whom I love? What’s really bothering you, Rumple?”

That he was a terrible father. Couldn’t she see that? His first son had died. He’d promised to protect him, but in the end he hadn’t, and so he’d died and it was all his fault. But Belle wouldn’t understand this. She’d tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that he wasn’t to blame. Rumple, however, knew the truth.

He’d had the chance to start over, to create a new life with his son, but he’d picked power over his own family, and his son had left without him. And Rumple had let him. He avoided Belle’s searching gaze. He might be powerful now. People might fear him, but underneath it all he was still the scared little spinner, who bent the head and begged for mercy. He was a disgrace, and he’d fought for years for Belle not to see that.

Except that she had. She’d seen him at his worst. She’d seen him grovel, beg for mercy. She’d seen him scared and crying and yelling. She’d seen how the power he cloaked himself in was nothing but a coward’s desperate lie. Belle had seen all of this and she still thought he would be a good husband. She had still said I Do.

He looked up and met her gaze. His brave Belle. Despite everything she might say, Rumple knew that he was a coward, but maybe Belle had bravery enough for both of them.

Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.

He gave her a forced smile. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother,” he told her. He was still sure that he was going to be an awful father, just as he’d turned out to be the first time, but by the Gods he would try to do better this time. This time he’d do right by the people he loved.

Missing Out

A/N: There’s nothing wrong with working hard. But there is most definitely such a thing as working to hard! 

“Andy, come down, it’s your grandfather’s birthday and you’re missing it.”

It was her mother’s voice, soft and relaxed, and Andrea sighed in annoyance. She knew it was her grandfather’s birthday and of course she wanted to celebrate with him, but last Wednesday had been her older brother’s birthday, and the Sunday before that had been mother’s day. Then there had been her parent’s anniversary, her grandmother’s get-together and the barbecue her father always made such a big deal. It seemed like her parents just didn’t understand she didn’t have time for such frivolous activities.

“Coming,” she yelled back; knowing fully well that her voice wasn’t as relaxed as her mother’s had been. Now or ever.

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