The world is overrun by predominantly male figures, aggressively trying to outdo the large frail, unintelligible women. As time permits, this formality has been a constant, just as the sun rises every morning. Is it necessary to claim that women exert characteristics of frailty? Or is it general consensus to say they don't know better? "Most ignorance is vincible ignorance," claims Aldous Huxley, "we don't know because we don't want to know." Kate Chopin's dynamic character, Mrs. Mallard, in "The Story of an Hour," battles with the hand of a stereotypical society in order to render lost feelings of self and individuality.
             In spite of what we would like to claim as equality among the sexes, women of our own generation can often be depicted as housewives, furnished with kids and the ideal home. In the rush to produce such an image, many have overlooked the obvious truth that this world is composed of intellectual women. Mrs. Mallard can easily be placed in a category as your "typical woman." Perceived by all as weak, she isn't given the chance to prove otherwise. Constantly reminded of her failing heart, it seems she has come to terms with how the world assumes her to be. When given the news of Mrs's Mallard's husband's death, it only reinforces her fragile state. Chopin writes, "She wept at once, with sudden, wild abandonment." The dependence on a male figure is no longer there. She feels alone and deserted. As women, we have been shaped and molded to think we are not complete without our better half, the male. Mrs. Mallard is left helpless; she can no longer function only exerting another weakness on her part.
             Mrs. Mallard isolates herself. She emphasizes "the delicious breath of rain" and "the notes of a distant song." She is no longer tied down to the thoughts of society, and she is alone in mind, body, and soul. At the brink of death, Mrs. Mallard only now realizes the loss of her identity, the wasteful path of so...