Education Universe Uncategorized

Suspense and Psychological Depth: How Literature Pulls Us Inside the Human Mind

Suspense and psychological depth have long been two of the most compelling forces in literature. They shape how we experience a story not only through what happens but through how it feels from the inside. When a writer uses suspense, the reader senses uncertainty or anticipation. When a writer develops psychological depth, the reader gains access to the characters inner world. The strongest works combine these two qualities so that the atmosphere of the text becomes inseparable from the emotions and perceptions of the figures at its center.

Two well known examples that show how these forces operate are The Tell Tale Heart by Edgar Allan Poe and Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. One is a story of guilt, panic, and confession. The other is a poem of vision, dreamlike imagery, and creative longing. Even though one presents a frantic narrator and the other presents an imaginative and symbolic landscape, both create strong emotional effects through careful control of voice, pacing, rhythm, and imagery. By studying how these works achieve their power, students and readers can sharpen their analytical skills and become more attentive to the craft of literature.

This article introduces the concepts of suspense and psychological depth, explains how they operate in both works, and offers strategies for identifying them in any text. The goal is to help readers move beyond simple summary toward a more insightful understanding of why these works continue to resonate.

Understanding Suspense

Suspense grows out of uncertainty. A reader feels drawn forward because a question hangs in the air. It might be a question about what will happen next or about what a character will reveal. Sometimes the suspense is tied to action, such as waiting for a confrontation. Sometimes it is tied to emotion, such as waiting for a confession or a shift in understanding. Suspense can be loud and dramatic or quiet and psychological. It can rise from small details that unsettle the reader or from major events that change the course of the narrative. In every case suspense has the same effect. It keeps the reader alert.

Writers often create suspense by withholding information, slowing the pace, repeating a detail, or narrowing the point of view so that the reader sees only what the character sees. When suspense appears in a work that also contains psychological depth, the tension becomes stronger because the uncertainty comes from inside the character rather than from outside events.

Understanding Psychological Depth

Psychological depth refers to the sense that a character has an interior life shaped by memory, imagination, conflict, or desire. Instead of a character who simply performs actions, we see a mind at work. This can appear in the form of self questioning, emotional intensity, or unusual perception. It can also emerge through symbolism or imagery that reflects a characters inner state.

A text with psychological depth invites readers to notice how thoughts and feelings shape experience. Sometimes the writer makes this explicit through first person narration. Sometimes the writer conveys it more subtly through tone or word choice. In all cases psychological depth allows us to understand the emotional stakes and to enter the characters consciousness.

The Tell Tale Heart as a Study in Inner Pressure

Poe’s story is frequently described as a portrait of obsession and guilt. Although plot events occur, the intensity of the story comes from the mind of the narrator. The story opens with a claim of calm reasoning, yet the rhythm of the narrator’s speech reveals agitation. By using a first person point of view, Poe places readers inside an unsettled mind whose thoughts rush and repeat.

One of the most important techniques in this story is the connection between sensory detail and emotional turmoil. The narrator claims to hear sounds that ordinary people cannot hear. He focuses on the eye of the old man with an exaggerated sense of dread. These details are more than physical descriptions. They are clues to the narrator’s distorted perception. The reader senses that the problem lies not in the eye itself but in the narrator’s fixation on it.

Suspense arises from the contrast between the narrator’s confident tone and the disturbing nature of his thoughts. The pacing of the story increases as the narrator describes each step of his plan. The night scene where he slowly opens the door is filled with tension even though very little action occurs. Every motion is slowed so that each moment becomes heavy with expectation.

The heartbeat that grows louder becomes the climax of the psychological tension. Whether the sound is real or imagined is less important than the fact that the narrator believes it to be real. The pounding reflects his own fear and guilt, and the final confession arrives not because of external pressure but because his own mind cannot bear the weight anymore. The suspense is resolved through psychological collapse rather than through physical threat.

Kubla Khan and the Tension Between Vision and Mystery

Coleridge’s Kubla Khan creates a different kind of tension. Instead of a frantic narrator, the poem presents a visionary landscape that feels both beautiful and ominous. The poem describes a pleasure dome built by the ruler Kubla Khan in the land of Xanadu. The river Alph flows through caverns that seem limitless, and the scene blends the human world with a world that seems natural yet mysterious.

The imagery carries much of the poems power. Bright domes, deep caverns, sacred rivers, and a sunless sea create contrasts that feel symbolic. The pleasure dome suggests order and control, while the deep chasm suggests forces that lie beyond human command. The reader senses creative energy but also danger. This balance produces a form of suspense, not because of plot but because the poem hints at depths that cannot be fully known.

Another important aspect of psychological depth in this poem is the shift in perspective. In the second half of the poem, the speaker reflects on the act of creation itself. The poem becomes less about the landscape and more about the desire to recreate a vision through art. This interior turn allows readers to consider the emotional and mental labor behind imaginative work. The poem becomes an exploration of inspiration and longing.

The fragmentary nature of the poem also creates tension. Coleridge famously claimed that the poem reflects an incomplete vision. Whether or not this account is literal, the poem feels like a glimpse rather than a full narrative. Something remains unsaid, and that sense of incompleteness invites readers to imagine what might lie beyond the borders of the text. The suspense therefore arises from the poem’s embrace of mystery.

Why These Techniques Matter

Suspense and psychological depth allow literature to echo the complexity of human experience. When stories and poems rely only on external action, they can be entertaining but limited. When they draw readers into a characters mind, they open new ways of understanding fear, desire, imagination, and memory. By studying how writers build these effects, readers develop stronger analytical habits. They learn to notice tone, imagery, pacing, and point of view instead of relying only on plot summary.

This approach also offers greater insight into the larger themes of each work. The Tell Tale Heart becomes a study of guilt and self deception rather than simply a story of crime. Kubla Khan becomes a reflection on creativity and the power of visionary imagination rather than a simple description of a palace.

Readers who practice this kind of analysis can apply it in many contexts. In any text, you can begin by identifying a moment of tension or emotion. Then you can ask how the writer created that moment. Which details were highlighted. How does the structure support the feeling. What clues reveal the inner state of a character or narrator. After identifying these techniques, the next step is interpretation. You ask why the writer shaped the text that way and what the effect means for the larger work.

This method works for stories, poems, essays, and even films. It transforms reading from passive consumption into active engagement. It also helps students build stronger writing skills, since learning how writers create emotional impact prepares students to try similar techniques in their own work.

Suspense and psychological depth continue to appear in literature because they speak to universal questions. How do our fears shape our choices. How does imagination shape reality. How do guilt, desire, or mystery influence what we see and what we remember. Writers who tackle these questions invite readers to look inward as well as outward. That is the true power of these techniques, and that is why these two works remain essential reading.

Works Cited

Coleridge, Samuel Taylor. Kubla Khan. Poetry Foundation. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43991/kubla-khan

Poe, Edgar Allan. The Tell Tale Heart. The Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore. https://www.eapoe.org/works/tales/tthrt.htm

Litcharts. Kubla Khan Summary and Analysis. https://www.litcharts.com/poetry/samuel-coleridge/kubla-khan

Litcharts. The Tell Tale Heart Summary and Analysis. https://www.litcharts.com/lit/poe-s-stories/the-tell-tale-heart

Education Universe Uncategorized

Growing Up the Hard Way: Two Stories About Coming of Age

Coming of age is one of the oldest and most relatable themes in literature. Everyone has to grow up, but the process rarely looks the same for any two people. Sometimes the transition from adolescence to adulthood is slow and subtle, a gradual accumulation of responsibility and understanding. Other times, it is sharp, sudden and painful. In Joyce Carol Oates’s Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been? and John Updike’s A & P, coming of age looks very different, but both stories offer a powerful snapshot of what it means to leave innocence behind.

Each story follows a young character standing at the edge of a major turning point. Their stories are short, just a few pages each, but they capture a specific emotional truth about growing up that lingers long after reading. These are not feel-good tales about teenage triumph. They are quiet, tense and in some cases disturbing. But that is what makes them honest. They capture the confusion, recklessness and fear that often come with crossing into adulthood.

Connie’s Story: The End of Illusion

In Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?, Oates introduces us to Connie, a 15-year-old girl whose life is split in two. At home, she is dismissive of her family, annoyed by her mother, and often compared unfavorably to her older sister. Out in the world, she tries to embody a confident, older version of herself. She sneaks out to meet boys, experiments with flirting and sees her looks as her most valuable trait. In her mind, being noticed by men is power. She wants to be grown-up, though she is still very much a teenager.

One summer day, her parents and sister leave for a family barbecue, and Connie stays home alone. She lounges around the house, listening to music, lost in her thoughts. Then a strange car pulls into the driveway. Arnold Friend steps out, who says he met her once before. He is older, maybe thirty, and he speaks in an awkward, sometimes forced way that mimics teenage slang. He calls her “sweetheart” and “blue-eyed baby.” Something about him feels off, even as he flatters her.

Arnold tells her he is there to take her for a ride. When Connie hesitates, he becomes more insistent. The conversation shifts from flirtation to menace. He knows her name, her friends, where her family is. He even knows things about her house that he should not. The longer they talk, the more obvious it becomes that Arnold is dangerous. He threatens her in subtle but chilling ways, telling her she has no choice but to come with him. He warns that if she calls for help, her family will suffer.

Connie is terrified. She is paralyzed by fear and confusion. In those moments, all her earlier confidence vanishes. She realizes how powerless she truly is. In the end, she opens the door and walks out toward him. The story ends there, leaving readers to imagine what happens next. It is likely not good.

This story is not about empowerment. It is about illusion being shattered. Connie starts off believing she understands how to act like a grown woman, but she is still a child in many ways. She thinks she is in control because she knows how to attract attention. But that control is only surface deep. When faced with real danger, she has no tools to protect herself. Her coming of age is brutal. She does not get to choose it. It is thrust upon her.

Oates uses this disturbing situation to show how vulnerable teenage girls can be, especially when the world reduces them to their appearance. Connie is not foolish for wanting to grow up, but she is unprepared for the dangers that come with being seen as an adult before she is ready.

There is also something deeply unsettling in the way Arnold speaks. He tries to imitate teen talk, but he keeps slipping. His language is too smooth, too rehearsed. It makes him feel like a predator trying to blend in. This false familiarity makes him even more threatening, because it shows he understands how to manipulate young girls.

The blurred boundary between childhood and adulthood is at the heart of Connie’s story. Her family still treats her like a child. But men like Arnold treat her like an object of desire. Neither view allows her to be a full person. Her coming of age is about losing that in-between space where she could still pretend to be in control. It is about realizing that the world will not always wait for you to grow up on your own terms.

Sammy’s Story: The Price of a Bold Move

In John Updike’s A & P, the narrator is a 19-year-old grocery store cashier named Sammy. On an ordinary summer day, three girls walk into the store wearing bathing suits. They are clearly out of place in the fluorescent-lit aisles of canned food and checkout counters. Sammy is instantly fixated on them, especially the one he nicknames “Queenie.” He imagines her as upper-class, confident, self-assured. She becomes, in his mind, a symbol of something freer and more exciting than his small-town job.

As the girls wander the store, Sammy watches them closely, narrating his impressions with a mix of humor, judgment and fascination. But then his manager, Lengel, sees them and scolds them for being improperly dressed. He tells them they need to show respect for the store. Sammy is offended. He thinks the manager is being petty, and he wants to stand up for the girls. So, in a spontaneous act of protest, he quits his job.

He expects a reaction. Maybe the girls will notice. Maybe they will thank him. But by the time he gets out to the parking lot, they are gone. He is alone. The gesture, bold as it was, means nothing to them. But it means everything to him.

Sammy’s coming of age is not traumatic like Connie’s, but it is quietly painful. It is about realizing that doing the right thing does not always feel rewarding. That people may not care about your principles. That standing up for something can leave you alone.

Still, his decision matters. It marks a turning point in how he sees himself. He knows he cannot go back to who he was before. Quitting the job is not just about the girls. It is about pushing back against conformity, against authority, against a life that already feels too small.

What makes this story resonate is how ordinary it is. Sammy is not a hero. He is a bored teenager with a decent sense of humor and a restless mind. But in a single moment, he chooses discomfort over ease. He steps into adult life not with fanfare, but with quiet resignation. He learns that independence often comes with loneliness.

Updike captures the messy, in-between moment when someone starts thinking for themselves but still wants recognition for it. Sammy thinks he is making a grand, romantic gesture. But the real lesson is that sometimes, doing what feels right leaves you standing alone in the heat, watching the world move on without you.

Two Young People, One Common Truth

Connie and Sammy could not be more different. One is a teenage girl trapped in a dangerous situation. The other is a teenage boy trying to make a statement. But both stories reveal how quickly the ground can shift beneath you when you are young. Both characters are pushed into adulthood in uncomfortable, irreversible ways. They each come to see that their illusions about life, control and self-image are just that – illusions.

Growing up is not a clean break or a clear line. It often happens in moments that feel strange or unsettling. Sometimes you do not realize it is happening until afterward. These stories are valuable not because they show perfect growth, but because they show real growth, which is the kind that comes with pain, confusion and the uncomfortable awareness that the world is not what you thought it was.

Works Cited

Oates, Joyce Carol. Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been? First published in Epoch, 1966.
Updike, John. A & P. First published in The New Yorker, July 22, 1961.
Quinlan, Kieran. “Connie’s Tambourine Man: A New Reading of Oates’s ‘Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?’” Studies in Short Fiction, vol. 23, no. 2, 1986, pp. 219–224.
Pritchard, William H. Updike: America’s Man of Letters. University of Massachusetts Press, 2005.

Education Universe College writing, Literature

Love, Desire, and Relationships in Literature

Love is one of the oldest and most enduring subjects in literature. Across time and culture, writers have used stories, poems, and essays to explore how people connect, fall apart, yearn for more, or settle for less. Whether the focus is on romantic idealism, quiet longing, emotional imbalance, or heartbreak, the theme of love and desire continues to evolve. It takes on different shapes depending on the genre and the lens through which it is told.

Literature does not only show us what love is. It shows us how people feel it, misunderstand it, and express it. It also shows us what happens when love is unspoken, unreachable, or unreturned. Through literary devices such as imagery, symbolism, metaphor, tone, and point of view, authors reveal the many layers of human relationships.

To understand this more deeply, we can begin with two specific texts: William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18 and James Joyce’s short story Araby.

Idealized Love in Sonnet 18

In Sonnet 18, the speaker begins with a question that has become one of the most famous lines in English poetry:
“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”

The speaker uses extended metaphor to compare the beloved’s beauty to nature, and then argues that the beloved surpasses that beauty. While summer is brief and sometimes rough, the person being praised is portrayed as more gentle and more lasting.

One of the key literary devices here is metaphor, supported by rich imagery. The use of summer as a symbol for fleeting beauty allows the speaker to elevate the subject’s qualities beyond the limitations of time and nature. The poem also uses personification in the lines
“Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade”
to suggest that even death cannot claim the beloved.

Another important device is the shift in tone. The sonnet moves from admiration to a claim of immortality, stating that the beloved’s beauty will live forever in the poem itself. The closing couplet offers this idea plainly:

“So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”

The speaker’s desire is not only to praise but to preserve. The poem expresses romantic admiration, but it is also about the power of poetry. The love in this sonnet is idealized and eternal, untouched by time or imperfection.

This portrayal, while beautiful, invites reflection. Is this a real person being described, or a constructed idea of perfection? How often do we fall in love with the idea of someone more than the person themselves? The sonnet leaves that question open, but it is one worth asking in any discussion of love in literature.

Disillusioned Desire in Araby

In contrast, James Joyce’s Araby shows a very different kind of love. This short story focuses on a young boy in Dublin who develops an intense crush on his friend’s older sister. His desire for her becomes a kind of obsession. He watches for her at the door, thinks about her constantly, and imagines buying her a gift from a local bazaar called Araby.

The literary devices in this story are subtle but powerful. Joyce uses first-person narration to immerse the reader in the boy’s inner world. This perspective allows us to feel his excitement, his nervous energy, and eventually, his crushing disappointment. Imagery is used to convey the drab, gray surroundings of his life, which contrast with the colorful fantasy he builds around the girl and the bazaar.

As the story progresses, time works against him. He arrives at the bazaar late. The stalls are closing, the goods are unimpressive, and the romantic possibility he had imagined disappears. The last lines of the story reveal the depth of his realization:

“Gazing up into the darkness I saw myself as a creature driven and derided by vanity; and my eyes burned with anguish and anger.”

This is not a declaration of love. It is a moment of self-awareness. The narrator understands that his desire was not truly about the girl, but about what she represented to him. His motivation was to escape his dull reality, and she became a symbol of that hope. This is a perfect example of character development through emotional revelation.

Unlike Sonnet 18, where love is permanent and pure, Araby shows us how desire can distort reality. The story challenges us to think about the ways we project meaning onto others and how disappointment can be part of growing up emotionally.

How Genre Shapes the Theme of Love

Genre plays a major role in how relationships are portrayed in literature. Poetry often compresses emotion into a concentrated form. It focuses on rhythm, metaphor, and image to deliver a snapshot of feeling. Fiction, especially short stories or novels, allows for more narrative space. We see characters change, make choices, or suffer consequences. Nonfiction essays may approach relationships through reflection or argument, using a personal or analytical tone.

Here are some examples of how different genres treat love and desire:

• Poetry: In Pablo Neruda’s Sonnet XVII, love is described as quiet and natural. He writes, “I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.” The metaphor here expresses intimacy that is not loud or showy but deep and instinctive.

• Fiction: In F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, Gatsby’s love for Daisy is grand and obsessive. The green light at the end of her dock becomes a symbol of unreachable desire. His entire life is shaped around winning her back, but the relationship is hollow. Desire here is tied to illusion and identity.

• Nonfiction: In essays like Leslie Jamison’s The Empathy Exams, love and relationships are dissected with intellectual precision. Jamison blends personal experience with cultural analysis, exploring how emotional closeness is linked to performance, vulnerability, and the need to be seen.

Each of these genres gives us different tools to explore emotional themes. Together, they help readers reflect on their own experiences and beliefs about love.

Thinking Critically About Love in Literature

When reading literature about love, it is helpful to ask the following questions:

  • What motivates the characters’ actions? Are they seeking love, avoiding loneliness, trying to feel seen?
  • How do the literary devices shape our understanding of those emotions?
  • What expectations are being created or challenged?
  • Is the love shown in the story realistic, idealized, manipulative, or honest?
  • How does the form of the piece affect how the emotion is communicated?

These kinds of questions encourage deeper discussion and help uncover meaning that is not always stated directly. Whether in poetry or fiction, the way a relationship is portrayed tells us as much about the characters as it does about the author’s perspective on love.

Conclusion

Love in literature is not one idea. It is a spectrum of experiences and emotions. Sonnet 18 shows us love that is elevated, eternal, and preserved in art. Araby shows us love that is confused, one-sided, and tied to disillusionment. Both works use careful structure and language to shape the emotional experience.

By comparing genres and examining literary techniques, we gain insight not just into the characters but into the way we as readers interpret and respond to love. Some stories comfort us. Others challenge us. All of them offer a way to think about the most human of emotions with greater awareness and empathy.

Literature does not promise us perfect endings, but it does offer us deeper understanding. That alone makes every love story worth reading.

Education Universe College writing, Drama, Literature

Family Conflict and Resolution in August Wilson’s Fences

August Wilson’s Fences is a play about family, responsibility, and what happens when love is complicated by pride, pain, and disappointment. The story follows Troy Maxson, a man who is trying to take care of his family while struggling with the regrets and bitterness from his past. At the heart of the play is a set of deep family conflicts, especially between fathers and sons, husbands and wives, and dreams and reality. These conflicts drive the story forward and help show how hard it can be to find peace and resolution within a family.

Troy Maxson and the Center of the Conflict

Troy Maxson is the main character and also the main source of tension in the play. He once dreamed of playing professional baseball but was held back by racism. Now, as a middle aged garbage collector, he carries a lot of anger and disappointment. He tries to protect his family, but the way he does it often causes pain.

His relationship with his son Cory is one of the strongest examples of this conflict. Cory wants to play football in college and is being recruited. But Troy refuses to let him. He says it is because he does not want Cory to be hurt by racism the way he was. But there is more going on. Troy cannot let go of his own past. He is afraid that his son might succeed where he failed. Instead of supporting Cory, he blocks him.

In one important scene, Cory asks, “How come you ain’t never liked me?” Troy answers, “It’s not my job to like you. It’s my job to do for you, to make sure you got clothes on your back.” This shows how Troy thinks love and duty are separate. He believes he is doing enough just by providing. But Cory wants more than that. He wants respect and connection.

Troy’s hard view of the world is shaped by how he grew up. He had a rough childhood, with a strict and violent father. Now, without meaning to, Troy is passing down that same kind of parenting to his own children.

Rose Maxson and Quiet Strength

Rose is Troy’s wife and the heart of the family. She believes in love, faith, and keeping the family together. She is the one who encourages Troy to build a fence in their yard. To her, the fence is not just wood and nails. It is a way to keep her loved ones close.

When Troy tells her that he has cheated and that another woman is going to have his baby, Rose is devastated. But she does not run away. Instead, she makes a strong decision. She tells Troy that from now on, they are not husband and wife in the same way. But when the baby’s mother dies, Rose agrees to raise the child, Raynell, as her own. She says the child is innocent and needs love.

This is one of the most powerful moments in the play. Rose does not scream or fight. She simply stands her ground. She shows what it means to be strong without being loud. She keeps the family together, even when her own heart is broken.

Cory’s Journey and the Question of Resolution

Cory changes the most from the beginning to the end of the play. At first, he is hopeful and excited about football. He wants his father’s support. But as the story goes on, the gap between him and Troy grows. After many arguments and disappointments, Cory decides to leave home and join the Marines. He needs to get away from Troy to find himself.

After Troy dies, Cory comes home for the funeral. At first, he says he does not want to go. He tells his mother, “You don’t count the dead. You count the leaving.” He still feels anger and pain. But something shifts when he talks to Raynell, his little sister. They share a memory of their father singing an old song about a dog named Blue. As they sing it together, Cory begins to soften.

This final scene does not give us a perfect ending. Cory does not say that everything is forgiven. But he starts to understand that he does not have to carry the same anger forever. He does not have to become like his father. In this way, the play shows a kind of resolution. Not one where everything is fixed, but one where there is a chance for something better.

The Fence as a Symbol

The title of the play is important. The fence that Troy builds in the yard is more than just a home project. It stands for many things. For Rose, it is a way to keep her family safe and close. For Troy, it is something he feels forced to build but never finishes. For Cory, it is a wall that separates him from his father.

The fence also represents the idea of boundaries. Families often struggle with when to hold on and when to let go. The fence can keep people in or shut people out. In Fences, it does both. And just like the relationships in the play, the fence is never quite complete. It is a work in progress, just like love, forgiveness, and understanding.

No Simple Endings

Fences does not offer easy answers. There is no happy family reunion at the end. Troy dies with many things left unsaid. But Wilson shows us that even when families are broken, there is still hope. Resolution does not always mean peace. Sometimes it means learning, growing, and doing better than the generation before.

Rose finds strength through her choices. Cory begins to make peace with his past. Raynell, the youngest, brings a sense of innocence and possibility. The family goes on. They carry the pain, but they also carry the lessons.

In this way, August Wilson tells a story that is both deeply personal and widely true. Family conflict is part of life. But through honesty, memory, and love, even the hardest conflicts can lead to understanding. That is the quiet power of Fences.

Works Cited

Wilson, August. Fences. With an introduction by Lloyd Richards, Plume, 1986.

Shannon, Sandra G. The Dramatic Vision of August Wilson. Howard University Press, 1995.

Education Universe Argument Writing, College Courses, Research Writing

Understanding Reviews: How They Work and Why They Matter

Reviews are one of the most common forms of writing we encounter in daily life. Whether you are browsing movie ratings, checking book suggestions, exploring product comparisons, or researching academic techniques, reviews shape what we think and what we choose. While some reviews are casual and opinion-based, others are carefully structured arguments built to inform, persuade, or evaluate. This week, we are focusing on how to read reviews critically, how to understand their structure, and how to identify what makes them effective.

What Is a Review?

At its core, a review is a type of argument. It presents a clear opinion about a subject and supports that opinion with evidence and reasoning. The goal of a review is not only to express a personal reaction but also to evaluate something based on specific standards or criteria. A strong review does not just say what the reviewer liked or disliked. It explains why those reactions are valid and meaningful, using a mix of description, analysis, and judgment.

The Purpose of a Review

Reviews serve different purposes depending on the context. Some reviews are written to help an audience make a decision. Others aim to start a conversation, analyze a cultural trend, or assess the value of a method or theory. Regardless of the goal, a review must do more than summarize. It must interpret and evaluate. Good reviews tell the reader what is at stake. They offer insight, not just opinion.

Common Types of Reviews

Understanding the type of review you are reading can help you focus on what matters most in the content. Here are some of the most common types you may come across.

Film Review

A film review typically appears in newspapers, blogs, or entertainment websites. It evaluates a movie by looking at elements such as plot, character development, acting, cinematography, direction, pacing, and emotional impact. A strong film review provides enough summary to orient the reader but focuses mainly on analysis and judgment.

The tone can vary from casual to professional, but the best film reviews are grounded in clear standards. For example, a reviewer might argue that a film fails because it relies on clichés, or that it succeeds because of innovative editing and bold storytelling. The review should support these claims with specific examples from the film.

Book Review

A book review may be written for a general audience or for an academic setting. It goes beyond summarizing the plot or content. A strong book review examines themes, structure, character development, writing style, and the author’s purpose. In academic contexts, book reviews often place the book within a larger conversation. They may compare it to other works in the same field, question the author’s approach, or analyze how effectively the book meets its goals.

Good book reviews balance description and evaluation. They tell the reader what the book is about, who it is for, and whether it succeeds at what it tries to do.

Review of a Method

In academic and professional settings, you may encounter reviews of methods or processes. These reviews evaluate the strengths and weaknesses of a specific approach, such as a teaching strategy, research method, or design process. The goal is not just to describe how the method works, but to assess its effectiveness, efficiency, and applicability.

For example, a review of a scientific method might discuss how well it controls variables, how replicable it is, and how it compares to other methods in the same field. A review of a writing strategy might evaluate its usefulness for different kinds of students. Like other reviews, reviews of methods rely on clear criteria and thoughtful analysis.

Other Common Reviews

You might also see reviews of performances, restaurants, video games, exhibitions, products, or apps. Each type of review has its own set of expectations and standards. For instance, a restaurant review might focus on service, atmosphere, flavor, and price. A game review might discuss gameplay mechanics, design, graphics, story, and user experience.

Whatever the subject, the underlying principles are the same. The reviewer should state a clear judgment, use relevant criteria, and support the evaluation with evidence and examples.

Key Features of an Effective Review

To understand reviews well, it helps to break them down into key components. These features are often found across all types of reviews.

  1. Clear Claim or Judgment
    • Every review needs a central judgment. This is the main argument the reviewer is making about the subject. For example, the reviewer might claim that a film is a fresh take on the genre, that a book fails to develop its themes, or that a teaching method is outdated. This central claim guides the rest of the review.
  2. Evaluation Criteria
    • Criteria are the standards the reviewer uses to assess the subject. These might be explicit or implied, but they are always present. For example, a reviewer might judge a novel based on character depth, plot structure, and writing style. A review of a restaurant might judge food quality, service, and ambiance. Choosing the right criteria is crucial to writing a fair and thoughtful review.
  3. Evidence and Examples
    • A good review supports its evaluation with concrete examples. Instead of simply saying a film is boring, a reviewer might describe how long scenes drag on without advancing the plot. If a product is unreliable, the review might include specific examples of when it failed. Evidence builds trust and shows that the review is based on careful observation, not just gut reaction.
  4. Awareness of Audience
    • Strong reviews consider who the audience is. A film review written for teenagers will sound different from one written for film scholars. A review of a textbook for college students will differ from a review of a picture book for parents. The tone, vocabulary, and depth of analysis should match the needs and expectations of the intended readers.
  5. Balanced Tone
    • A review does not have to be neutral, but it should be fair. Even when a reviewer is critical, they should acknowledge what works or recognize the intentions behind the subject. A balanced tone builds credibility and shows that the writer is thoughtful rather than biased.

Reading Reviews Critically

When reading a review, ask yourself the following questions:

  • What is the main claim or judgment?
  • What criteria does the reviewer use?
  • Are those criteria appropriate for the subject?
  • Does the reviewer support their judgment with examples?
  • How does the tone affect your trust in the reviewer?
  • What does the review assume about its audience?

These questions help you move beyond surface reading. Instead of just agreeing or disagreeing with the review, you begin to see how it is built and how it tries to influence its readers.

The Role of Bias and Perspective

All reviews reflect a point of view. Reviewers bring their tastes, experiences, and values to what they write. That is not a problem by itself. In fact, point of view is part of what makes a review interesting. The key is whether the reviewer is honest about that perspective and whether they support their judgment with evidence.

For example, a reviewer might dislike a film because of personal taste but still recognize its artistic strengths. A book reviewer might disagree with the author’s politics but still praise the quality of the writing. The goal is not to eliminate bias but to be aware of it and stay fair in spite of it.

Conclusion

Reviews are more than opinions. They are structured arguments built on careful analysis, clear criteria, and thoughtful evidence. Whether you are reading a film review, a book review, or an academic evaluation of a method, your job as a reader is to recognize how the writer makes their case. Look for the claim, the criteria, the evidence, and the tone. Pay attention to how the review speaks to its audience and what it assumes about their values or knowledge.

Understanding the mechanics behind this common but powerful form of writing will strengthen your ability to argue, persuade, and communicate with purpose.

Works Cited

Giltrow, Janet, Richard Gooding, Daniel Burgoyne, and Marlene Sawatsky. Academic Writing: An Introduction. 3rd ed., Broadview Press, 2014.

Lunsford, Andrea A., John J. Ruszkiewicz, and Keith Walters. Everything’s an Argument with Readings. 9th ed., Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2021.

Purdue Online Writing Lab (OWL). “Writing a Book Review.” Purdue University, https://owl.purdue.edu/owl/general_writing/common_writing_assignments/book_reviews.html. Accessed 20 Sept. 2025.

Education Universe Literature, Uncategorized

Tone and Mood in Fiction and Poetry with Existential Themes

Tone and mood are two of the most crucial tools that writers use to shape how a reader experiences a story or poem. Tone refers to how the narrator or speaker feels about what is happening. Mood refers to what the reader feels while reading. When an author explores existential themes these tools become very important. Existential themes ask big questions about human existence, about meaning or the absence of meaning, about isolation, mortality and freedom.

In the works students are reading this week namely The Tell Tale Heart and The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe the tone and the mood intensify the existential questions embedded in them. The following sections examine how tone and mood work in those works and how other works also explore similar themes.

The Tell Tale Heart by Poe

In The Tell Tale Heart the narrator insists on their sanity yet describes in detail their obsession with the old man’s “vulture eye” which leads to murder. The tone in this story is agitated and defensive. The narrator wants the reader to believe they are rational but what is described suggests otherwise. The mood becomes oppressive paranoid and full of guilt.

The narrator’s hearing of the old man’s heart beating under the floorboards is not only horror but expresses existential collapse. It shows that guilt cannot remain hidden. It undermines identity and self perception. The existential question emerges: what happens when conscience no longer allows a self to deny wrongdoing? The story forces the reader to feel the breakdown of the distinction between sanity and madness.

The Raven by Poe

In The Raven the speaker grieves over Lenore. At first the tone is mournful melancholic then comes a turn toward hopeless desperation as the raven repeats “Nevermore.” The mood begins with sorrow and longing then grows darker intense and finally bleak.

This poem deals with loss and the search for meaning after loss. The speaker seeks comfort answers hope but the poem returns only silence or that single word “Nevermore.” The existential theme lies in confronting loss that seems permanent and facing that nothing outside might fill the void. The poem presents death grief isolation and the collapse of hope.

Other Works that Explore Existential Themes through Tone and Mood

To deepen understanding it helps to look at other works that use tone and mood to explore existential questions more broadly.

Franz Kafka The Metamorphosis

In The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka the protagonist Gregor Samsa wakes up transformed into an insect. The narrative tone is matter of fact detached. It does not explain or soften the horror of the transformation. The mood is disquieting alienated and surreal.

The transformation isolates Gregor physically and emotionally from his family and from society. Gregor loses what defined him his job his daily routines his human relationships. Existential themes emerge in the absurdity of the change the loss of identity and in the unbridgeable gap between Gregor and others. Life becomes meaningless from Gregor’s perspective because everything familiar vanishes. This work is often cited as an early example of existential literature.

Albert Camus The Stranger

The Stranger by Albert Camus features Meursault who is emotionally detached and emotionally flat in many situations such as at his mother’s funeral. The narrative tone is cool blunt and at times indifferent. The mood becomes one of alienation of absurdity of disconnection.

Meursault’s indifference to social norms to expressions of grief to moral expectations raises the question of whether meaning in life depends on social structure or inner conviction. Facing his own trial and death he moves toward recognition that life may have no higher purpose beyond one’s own choices. His confrontation with mortality and meaninglessness makes this work a classic existential text.

Sylvia Plath “Tulips” and The Bell Jar

Sylvia Plath’s poetry and prose often explore themes of identity loss suffering and the self in crisis. In the poem “Tulips” the speaker lies in a hospital and tries to avoid all human concern. The tone is detached subdued then becomes uneasy as the tulips intrude. The mood shifts from calm emptiness to discomfort and guilt.

In her novel The Bell Jar the mood throughout is one of suffocation alienation inward collapse. The tone is intimate painful introspective. Esther Greenwood feels pressure from society expectations but also feels trapped by them. The existential anxiety in her struggle arises from the gulf between what she expects from life or what society expects and what she feels she is internally.

How Tone and Mood Serve Existential Themes

Tone conveys the manner in which the speaker or narrator regards what is happening. When that tone is detached or confused or desperate it aligns closely with existential concerns. Mood draws the reader into an emotional space in which they can feel uncertainty dread isolation grief guilt or freedom or despair. Those emotions are inseparable from existential questions because existence itself contains uncertainty mortality and the possibility that life lacks fixed meaning.

In the Poe works tone and mood combine to leave the reader unsettled not by action alone but by what is implied: that guilt may never let one rest that loss may be permanent that identity is fragile. In Kafka the sense of alienation comes from loss of social identity wholly. In Camus from emotional detachment and confrontation with the absurd. In Plath the internal voice reveals how one may feel estranged from the self and the world.

Conclusion

Tone and mood are more than literary devices for atmosphere or style. When authors focus on existential themes they become central. They let readers feel what it might be like to confront meaninglessness to suffer grief to exist with guilt or isolation or indifference. The works of Poe Kafka Camus Plath among others show that existential literature asks how it feels to be human when everything one relies upon may fail. Students reading The Tell Tale Heart and The Raven will gain insight not only on horror or tragedy but on what human existence demands when one lives without certainty or consolation.

Works Cited

Camus Albert. The Stranger. Vintage Books 1982.
Flight, Creative. (2023). Creative Flight, Vol. 4, No. 2, Academic Section.

Kafka Franz. The Metamorphosis. Penguin Classics 2005.
Poe Edgar Allan. The Tell Tale Heart in The Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe. Vintage Books 1975.
Poe Edgar Allan. The Raven in The Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe. Vintage Books 1975.
Plath Sylvia. The Bell Jar. Harper Perennial Modern Classics 2006.

Education Universe Uncategorized

Audio & Script: Morality and Choice in The Guest by Albert Camus

This is about morality in Camus’ The Guest

This is roughly the script to the audio and click here for The Guest on YouTube.

Hi everyone,

This week, we’re focusing on morality and choice in literature, with a spotlight on The Guest by Albert Camus.

Now, let’s be real. When we talk about morality, a lot of people assume we’re getting into black-and-white territory. They think it’s right versus wrong, good guys versus bad guys. But literature rarely works that way. In fact, the best stories often do the opposite. They drop characters into situations where no choice feels entirely right, and every action carries consequences. That’s exactly what Camus gives us in The Guest.

So let’s set the stage.

The Guest takes place in Algeria during a time of colonial tension between the French and the Arab population. Our main character, Daru, is a schoolteacher living alone in a remote desert outpost. He’s a quiet man, disconnected from the politics around him. Then one day, a gendarme arrives and hands him a prisoner, a man who has killed his cousin, and tells Daru to deliver him to the authorities.

Right there, the moral dilemma kicks in.

Daru doesn’t want to be part of this. He didn’t arrest the man. He doesn’t know the full story. He doesn’t even want to be involved in the conflict between colonizers and the colonized. But suddenly, he’s been placed in a position of power and responsibility, whether he asked for it or not.

So what are his options?

Option one: do what he’s told. March the prisoner to the police station. Follow orders. Let the system handle it. But to Daru, that feels like a betrayal of his principles – his belief in individual freedom and neutrality.

Option two: help the man escape. This choice could be seen as taking sides in a political conflict. He wants no part of that conflict. It could also make Daru a target.

Option three: give the prisoner the freedom to choose—take the road to prison or the road to freedom.

That’s what Daru ultimately does. He feeds the man and gives him shelter. He treats him with dignity. Then, he leads him to a crossroads, literally, and lets him decide.

This choice is central to Camus’ philosophy. Camus was associated with existentialism. He was also linked to absurdism. Both focus on the idea that life doesn’t come with a built-in moral order. We have to create meaning ourselves. There’s no cosmic scorekeeper. No guaranteed justice. Just choices, actions, and consequences.

In that light, Daru’s decision seems noble. He refuses to dehumanize the prisoner. He respects his agency. But is it the right choice?

That’s where things get messy.

Because by stepping back, by refusing to choose for the prisoner, Daru ends up being held responsible anyway. When he returns to the schoolhouse, he finds a message scrawled on the blackboard: “You handed over our brother. You will pay for this.”

So what just happened?

Camus is demonstrating that neutrality is a choice. Even when we try to stay out of moral or political conflicts, the world doesn’t let us off the hook. There’s no clean escape from responsibility. Inaction is still a form of action. That’s a brutal truth—one that literature forces us to confront over and over.

Let’s zoom out for a second.

This isn’t just a Guest thing. This theme runs through literature like a current. Think about Antigone. The title character must choose to obey the law. She must also decide whether to bury her brother out of love and loyalty. Or The Crucible, where John Proctor chooses to tell the truth and face death rather than live with a lie. Or even in more modern stories like The Hunger Games, The Road, Never Let Me Go, where characters are constantly forced to make impossible choices. They often face these dilemmas without knowing what the right answer is.

That’s because morality in literature isn’t about finding the right answer. It’s about asking the hard questions.

In The Guest, Camus is asking:

  • Can you stay neutral in a world full of conflict?
  • What do you owe to other people’s freedom?
  • Is it moral to give someone a choice that could lead to their own destruction?
  • And when you’re faced with an impossible situation—what defines the moral action?

He doesn’t give us clear answers. He doesn’t tell us how to feel about Daru. He just leaves us with a question mark—and that’s what makes the story so powerful.

So as you reflect on The Guest this week, I want you to resist the urge to solve the story. Instead, explore it. Sit in the discomfort. Ask yourself: What would I have done? And why?

And most importantly – are you okay with the cost of your choice?

Because that, in the end, is what morality in literature comes down to: not just what you choose, but what you’re willing to live with after the choice is made.

See you in the discussion.

Education Universe College writing, Research Writing

Understanding Academic Genres

Academic writing is not one-size-fits-all. Depending on the discipline and purpose, scholars use different forms of writing to communicate their ideas, findings, and arguments. These forms are known as academic genres.

An academic genre refers to a category of writing that follows specific conventions and serves a particular function within scholarly work. Each genre has its own structure, tone, and expectations shaped by the audience and purpose it serves. Understanding academic genres helps students navigate the academic landscape more effectively, improving both their reading comprehension and writing skills.

For example, a research article in a psychology journal typically follows a formal structure that includes an abstract, literature review, methods, results, and discussion. This structure helps researchers present original data and interpret their findings for a specialized audience. In contrast, a literary analysis essay in an English class might focus more on argumentative writing, using textual evidence to explore themes or rhetorical strategies.

Other common academic genres include lab reports, literature reviews, proposals, book reviews, case studies, and reflective essays. Each is shaped by the conventions of the discipline it comes from. For instance, science writing values precision and clarity, while humanities writing often emphasizes interpretation and critical thinking.

Recognizing the expectations of different genres helps students write more effectively and read more critically. It also prepares them to participate in the scholarly conversations of their chosen fields. Rather than memorizing a single way to write, students should learn to adapt their voice and approach depending on the genre they are working within.

Understanding academic genres is essential not only for academic success but also for developing flexible, field-specific communication skills that are valuable beyond the classroom.

Academic genres are specific types of writing commonly used in academic settings, each with distinct purposes, structures, audiences, and stylistic conventions.

Simplified Definition:

Academic genres are categories of academic writing that follow particular conventions and serve different functions within scholarly communication.

Examples of Academic Genres:

  • Research articles – present original findings
  • Literature reviews – synthesize previous research
  • Lab reports – document scientific experiments
  • Book reviews – evaluate published works
  • Proposals – outline plans for research or projects
  • Essays – argue or explore a position or idea
  • Case studies – analyze specific examples in detail

Key Characteristics:

  • Purpose-driven (e.g., to inform, argue, analyze, report)
  • Audience-specific (usually other scholars or instructors)
  • Structured formats (e.g., introduction-methods-results-discussion for scientific papers)
  • Discipline-specific language and citation styles (e.g., APA for psychology, MLA for literature)

Sources

Miller, Carolyn R. “Genre as Social Action.” Quarterly Journal of Speech, vol. 70, no. 2, 1984, pp. 151–167.

Swales, John M. Genre Analysis: English in Academic and Research Settings. Cambridge University Press, 1990.

Education Universe Uncategorized

More Than Words: How Malala Yousafzai Uses Constitutive Rhetoric to Shape Global Identity

Malala Yousafzai isn’t just speaking to people—she’s creating them. Through her speeches and storytelling, she doesn’t just make arguments about education, justice, or peace. She invites us to become a certain kind of person. This is the heart of constitutive rhetoric—language that doesn’t just communicate ideas, but calls an audience into being. In both her Nobel Peace Prize Lecture and her children’s book Malala’s Magic Pencil, Malala constructs a collective identity. This identity is rooted in courage, empathy, and moral responsibility.

This reflection explores how her words do more than inform—they define. She shapes how people see themselves. This opens a rhetorical space where global citizens—young and old—can imagine themselves as agents of change.

A Voice That Names the Listener

Constitutive rhetoric starts with interpellation—the moment when someone says something and the audience recognizes, That’s me. She’s talking to me. Malala’s rhetoric is full of these moments, especially in the Nobel Lecture. When she says, “One child, one teacher, one book, one pen can change the world,”, she is not just offering a hopeful slogan. She is identifying her audience as capable changemakers. Instead, she is naming her audience as capable changemakers. It doesn’t matter if you’re a teacher in Ghana. Whether a student in Sweden or a policymaker in New York, Malala is telling you that you already hold power.

This rhetorical move builds a collective identity that crosses borders. You are no longer just someone listening to a speech. You are now part of a global community. This community values education and stands against injustice. That’s a shift in identity—and it’s intentional.

In Malala’s Magic Pencil, the constitutive effect is more subtle, but no less powerful. The narrator says, “My wishes changed. I wished for peace. I wished for war to end.” For children reading this, the line doesn’t just explain how Malala grew. It creates a model for how they might grow. They are invited into the story, not just as observers, but as potential wish-changers and problem-solvers. It suggests that even a child’s view of the world can mature into something visionary.

Rhetoric That Builds Community

Malala doesn’t appeal to an audience that already exists—she helps build one. That’s the core of constitutive rhetoric: language that forms a “we.”

In her Nobel Lecture, that “we” is deeply inclusive. She doesn’t speak as a Pakistani girl alone. She speaks as someone standing “with the girls of Nigeria.” She stands “with the children in Palestine.” She stands “with every child who wants to learn.” These phrases construct an identity based not on nationality, race, or religion—but on shared values and shared struggles.

In that way, her speech isn’t just descriptive—it’s performative. She’s not just describing what a global community looks like. She’s actively forming it in the room. Every listener becomes part of something bigger, simply by being addressed that way.

Compare this with Malala’s Magic Pencil. Here, the identity formed is more intimate: children who care, dream, and imagine. It’s not a political call—it’s a moral one. The book says to its readers, You’re the kind of person who sees wrong and wishes to make it right. That’s a subtle but foundational identity-forming message. It invites children to carry that identity with them as they grow.

The Power of “I” and “We”

One of the most effective tools Malala uses to constitute her audience is her shifting between “I” and “we.” In both texts, she begins with “I” — telling her story, her dreams, her struggles. But she doesn’t stay there. She moves outward. In the speech: “We realized the importance of pens and books when we saw the guns.” In the book: “I wished I could help others.”

The rhetorical effect is that the personal becomes shared. Her “I” becomes a mirror for the reader. This is not ego—it’s invitation. By hearing her story, we begin to see ourselves in it. And once that happens, it’s easier to accept the shift to “we.”

This move is especially significant in the context of constitutive rhetoric. “We” is not just a grammatical choice. It’s a political act. It says, You and I are the same kind of people, and we are part of the same kind of mission. That’s how you build a movement—not just with logic, but with identity.

Language That Inspires Action by Inspiring Identity

Rhetoric that persuades can change minds. Rhetoric that constitutes can change lives.

That’s what makes Malala’s communication so effective. It doesn’t just tell the audience what to think—it gives them a role to play. In the Nobel Lecture, that role is advocate, ally, and protector of the right to education. In Malala’s Magic Pencil, the role is imaginative thinker, wish-maker, and quiet activist.

When children read her story, they’re not just learning about injustice. They’re learning that they can be the kind of person who does something about it. When adults hear her speak, they aren’t just spectators of her courage. They’re asked to see themselves as part of a moral movement.

This rhetorical work is especially vital in a fractured world. People are divided by geography, politics, and privilege. Malala’s rhetoric stitches a new kind of identity. It is not defined by what you have. It is defined by what you believe and what you do.

Final Thoughts: Identity Is the Invitation

Malala Yousafzai’s rhetorical power lies at its core. She invites us to become the kind of people who believe in a better world. Then, she urges us to act like it.

That’s the work of constitutive rhetoric. It doesn’t just inform or argue. It calls. It names. It shapes. And in Malala’s case, it helps build a generation. Maybe it even builds a world. These are people who refuse to see education as a privilege. They begin to see it as a shared right.

Whether it’s a child holding a picture book or a diplomat hearing her speak in Oslo, the invitation is the same:

This is who you are. This is what we believe. Now let’s do something about it.

Related Article: The Rhetoric of Change: Malala Yousafzai’s Persuasive Power Across Two Texts

Works Cited

Yousafzai, Malala. Malala’s Magic Pencil. Illustrated by Kerascoët, Little, Brown and Company, 2017.

Yousafzai, Malala. “Nobel Peace Prize Lecture.” NobelPrize.org, 10 Dec. 2014,
https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/peace/2014/yousafzai/lecture/.

Charland, Maurice. “Constitutive Rhetoric: The Case of the Peuple Québécois.” Quarterly Journal of Speech, vol. 73, no. 2, 1987, pp. 133–150. Taylor & Francis Online,
https://doi.org/10.1080/00335638709383799.

Palczewski, Catherine Helen, et al. Rhetoric in Civic Life. 3rd ed., Strata Publishing, 2021.

Education Universe Argument Writing, College writing, Uncategorized

The Rhetoric of Change: Malala Yousafzai’s Persuasive Power Across Two Texts

Malala Yousafzai is a powerful voice in the fight for education and justice. Her rhetorical strategies change depending on her audience and purpose. In her Nobel Peace Prize Lecture, she uses distinct rhetorical moves for that audience. In her children’s book Malala’s Magic Pencil, she uses different rhetorical techniques to reach young readers. By shifting her language and tone, Malala adapts her message without losing her core values.

We need to look closely at the specific rhetorical strategies she uses in each text. This helps us understand how her language works. We should examine how she frames her story and builds trust. Additionally, consider how she uses emotional appeal and points toward action. These aren’t random stylistic choices; they’re deliberate tools to shape how her audience thinks, feels, and responds.

CLAIM: Framing Personal Story as a Universal Call — Narrative as Rhetorical Strategy

In both texts, Malala uses narrative as a rhetorical move—but she frames the story differently depending on her audience. In Malala’s Magic Pencil, she uses a personal narrative. It is imaginative. She gently guides young readers into serious topics like inequality. She also addresses violence. In the Nobel Lecture, she uses a testimony-style narrative to assert her authority and build urgency around global education.

EVIDENCE: Paired Quotes

From Malala’s Magic Pencil:
“Every night before I went to bed, I wished for a magic pencil. I would use it to put a lock on my door so my brothers couldn’t bother me.”

From the Nobel Lecture:
“I had two options; one was to remain silent and wait to be killed. The second was to speak up and then be killed.”

ANALYSIS: Shifting the Emotional Temperature

In Malala’s Magic Pencil, Malala opens with a light, relatable image of childhood—using a pencil for playful, everyday wishes. This language builds trust with young readers. She’s not just a girl from Pakistan; she’s a kid like them. She eases into bigger ideas by first grounding the story in innocent imagination.

This rhetorical move softens the entry point for young readers. It lowers the emotional temperature and makes the topic of injustice feel approachable, not overwhelming. That’s key in children’s literature—the goal is to plant ideas, not trigger distress.

In contrast, the quote from the Nobel Lecture throws the reader directly into a life-or-death choice. There’s no softening, no playfulness. The stakes are made brutally clear, and the emotion is intense. This is deliberate. Malala’s audience in Oslo isn’t children—it’s world leaders, policymakers, and adults with power. The rhetorical effect here is not to comfort but to confront. Her sharp language forces the listener to feel the urgency of the situation.

By framing her story differently, Malala activates different emotional responses: empathy in one, moral responsibility in the other.

CONNECTION: Audience, Genre, and Purpose

The contrasting tone and rhetorical moves are closely tied to the genre and audience of each work. Malala’s Magic Pencil is a children’s picture book. Its purpose is educational but gentle: introduce children to activism through metaphor and story. The magic pencil becomes a symbol of hope, imagination, and eventually action. The audience is young, possibly reading with a parent or teacher. That context demands warmth and accessibility.

The Nobel Lecture, on the other hand, is formal, public, and political. The purpose is direct persuasion—convincing world leaders to take action on education and human rights. The audience expects credibility, seriousness, and a call to action. So Malala shifts gears. She speaks not as a storyteller, but as a survivor and advocate. Her words are chosen to leave no room for passivity.

In both cases, she’s telling her story—but how she tells it is shaped by who’s listening.

CLAIM: Repetition as Emphasis — Strategic Reinforcement of Core Values

Another rhetorical move Malala uses in both texts is repetition, but again, the effect is tailored to context. In Malala’s Magic Pencil, repetition creates rhythm and emphasis, suited for a read-aloud experience. In the Nobel Lecture, repetition is used to drive home the urgency and scale of the problem.

EVIDENCE: Paired Quotes

From Malala’s Magic Pencil:
“I would erase the smell of garbage from my city. I would erase war, poverty, hunger.”

From the Nobel Lecture:
“One child, one teacher, one book and one pen can change the world.”

ANALYSIS: Rhythm with a Purpose

In the picture book, Malala uses repetition with a poetic touch. “I would erase…” becomes a mantra of hope. Each repetition expands the reach of her imagination. First, it’s about her city. Then it’s the world. The effect is uplifting—it suggests that even a small dream can grow into something bigger. For children, this pattern is easy to follow, and it keeps them engaged.

In the Nobel speech, repetition functions as a rallying cry. “One child, one teacher, one book, one pen…” It’s not just rhythmic—it’s memorable. Each part builds on the last to emphasize simplicity and possibility. The effect is assertive and empowering. Malala is reducing a massive global issue—education inequality—down to its most basic, human components. And she’s calling the audience to believe in the power of those components.

Repetition here is more than a literary device. It’s a strategic way to make her message stick—and to move people from agreement to action.

CONNECTION: Function of Form

Genre matters. In Malala’s Magic Pencil, the repetition feels like a dream sequence—an invitation to imagine. That fits the genre of children’s literature, where message and magic often go hand-in-hand. In the Nobel Lecture, the repetition works more like a slogan. It’s meant to be quoted, remembered, and repeated—ideal for a speech with global reach.

Both use the same rhetorical move, but with different rhythms and emotional effects. In the book, it’s quiet hope. In the speech, it’s determined belief.

CLAIM: Use of Contrast — Highlighting Injustice Through Juxtaposition

Malala also relies heavily on contrast—placing opposing ideas side by side to expose injustice. This move is present in both texts but again operates at different levels.

EVIDENCE: Paired Quotes

From Malala’s Magic Pencil:
“But my wishes changed. I wished for peace. I wished for war to end.”

From the Nobel Lecture:
“Why is it that countries which we call strong are so powerful in creating wars but so weak in bringing peace?”

ANALYSIS: From Personal Shift to Global Challenge

In the children’s book, the contrast is internal. Malala shows how her own wishes changed over time—from playful to profound. This transition reflects emotional maturity and introduces the idea that even children can grow to care about justice. The contrast is gentle—it teaches reflection.

In the lecture, contrast is used to challenge hypocrisy. She calls out global powers for their misplaced priorities. The rhetorical effect is sharper, more confrontational. She’s not reflecting here; she’s holding systems accountable.

Again, both use contrast, but one turns inward to inspire change, while the other looks outward to demand it.

CONCLUSION: Language with Purpose

Malala Yousafzai’s rhetoric is powerful for many reasons. It is not just the story she tells. It is how she adapts her language to fit her audience, genre, and purpose. In Malala’s Magic Pencil, she uses imagination, repetition, and gentle contrast to spark awareness in young readers. In her Nobel Peace Prize Lecture, she uses personal testimony. She employs urgent repetition and bold contrast. These techniques push for action on a global scale.

At the heart of both is the same message: education matters, and everyone has a role to play. But the way that message is delivered changes depending on who needs to hear it. That’s what makes her rhetoric not just moving—but effective.

Related Article: More Than Words: How Malala Yousafzai Uses Constitutive Rhetoric to Shape Global Identity

Works Cited

Yousafzai, Malala. Malala’s Magic Pencil. Illustrated by Kerascoët, Little, Brown and Company, 2017. https://youtu.be/HMsmlxmOK18?si=zhdzrkw0j1x8K5o9

Yousafzai, Malala. “Nobel Peace Prize Lecture.” NobelPrize.org, 10 Dec. 2014, https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/peace/2014/yousafzai/lecture/.