Schreiner is very blatantly condemning patriarchal constructs in this passage. She assigns the term "Inevitable Necessity" to the plight women face in enduring the amalgam of toxic masculinity, subjugation, and gender constructs. Schreiner personifies this misogyny by presenting this woman as the physical embodiment of a lack of mobility. Her inability to walk freely is synonymous with the estrangement of women from social mobility, due to ideologies that esteem aggression and virility; sequentially promoting the subordination of women.

Even in today's world,"female" can be used in a degrading manner. Here, Lady Windermere is drawing a clear distinction between being a female and being a woman. Her definition emphasizes the difference between being a woman in "biological" terms and being a woman, as determined by the social graces one does or does not possess. She states that in order to accomplish the latter, one's mistakes must be charming, which suggests that femininity must be accompanied by a sort of cuteness and ditziness in one's mishaps, in order to fit the male gaze. It is interesting that Lady Windermere's character is the one to say this, because she seems to disrupt gender conventions, as she is the ringleader of this whole exchange—seen in the sentence immediately following, where she tells Sir Thomas to have his hand read by Mr. Podgers, and they both oblige. Though Podgers has the ability to see people's past and future, no doubt a powerful trait, he is still very much at Lady Windermere's beck and call. Having Lady Windermere, a powerful woman, comment on the distinction between being a woman and being female may showcase a sort of internalized misogyny. If Wilde was intentional in this juxtaposition, then one may take note of the fact that though society seems to have ever-expanding borders to accommodate successful men, there appears to be a maximum occupancy for successful women, hence one woman having to belittle others.

operate along lines of shame and guilt

Here, Doyle's story comes full circle. As the narrator first told us, Holmes refers to Adler as the woman. Though Holmes does acknowledge Adler's wit and intelligence, this phrasing is problematic, because it insinuates that this wit and intelligence is alien to other women. She is not just a woman, capable of possessing attributes that would normally be overlooked, seeing as being a good, worthwhile, nineteenth century woman was directly related to how well they fit the angel of the house archetype. Calling her the woman implies that she is the sole model of what any woman should be like. Yet, this title simultaneously estranges her from her identity as a woman altogether, because the implication is that she is so unlike other women in her ability to outsmart a man, that she gets ascribed an otherness that separates her and elevates her, while deprecating women as a whole in the same breath.

Here, readers see the contrast between Mr. Pitmilly's stone, characterized by kindness and light, and Lady Cambee's, which is accompanied by darkness. This highlights what the narrator had previously revealed about her relationship with Pitmilly, saying he was always a friend to her. The fact that she is willing to trust and confide in Pitmilly, yet fears Cambee and thinks she is a witch, attests to the generational divide and the internalized misogyny that Oliphant may be trying to point out. It is common to see older generations criticize what they believe to be the radical nature of younger ones. One of the very first things that the narrator points out is her lack of conformity, as it relates to domesticity, saying "I did very little work, I fear—now and then a few stitches when the spirit moved me." The relationship and discord between old and young is mentioned almost constantly throughout the work. If the narrator serves to represent unorthodox gender roles, then it makes sense that she would fear Lady Cambee's ring. Marriage for women meant ownership and a relinquishing of autonomy. This death of independence is further emphasized by the rest of Lady Cambee's funeral-like attire. However, the narrator does not fear diamonds and what they may represent altogether. Mr. Pitimilly's diamond is warm and inviting. This could represent the narrator's desire for matrimony, but also shows a simultaneous desire for the freedom that only men would have possessed in marriage. This struggle between conformity and unorthodoxy is laden throughout the story. Though the narrator desires autonomy, she writes this story as a widow, which obviously indicates that she was at one point married. Oliphant may be pointing out the ways in which internal misogyny has manifested within the narrator herself, because the convictions which she held so dear as a young single woman, she reduces to being young and vacuous, now that she is older and widowed. The older women who she, in a way, resented for patronizing her, now parallel the narrator's own thought process, as she continuously points out her young age to invalidate her own thoughts and actions that she had felt at the time.

This irony and foreshadowing sets the tone for the rest of the story, befitting of its belonging to Hardy's Life's Little Ironies collection. While Raye thinks he has a hold of Anna's hand, it is actually Edith's. However, only Edith has knowledge of the fact that she is the recipient of his touch. In the scenes that follow, Edith, once again, is the only one aware of the fact that words or actions meant for one person are being received by another. Though Anna is obviously aware of the fact that Edith is the one composing the letters, she is oblivious to the gravity of the situation. It is also interesting that Hardy chose to use the word "imprisoned." As the story progresses, Edith is under lock and key, both in that she cannot escape her feelings for Raye—and they are themselves a form of imprisonment—and also in that she must paradoxically enact self-deprivation in refraining from expressing these same emotions. Even upon Raye's eventual discovery of Edith's authorship, she is unable to act on it—save one fleeting moment—for the sake of Anna's well being, and Anna herself is subject to imprisonment in a loveless marriage.

This personification is important, in that it highlights the tension between humans and technology. The tunnel, and its mouth, are objects that allow the train to function as it does, with all its force and power. The signalman, in a sense, is employed by the train itself. It is not uncommon for new technology to come under the scrutiny of those living in the surrounding time period. Though the Signalman was first published in the 1860s, and the locomotive had been around since 1805, it was nevertheless a relatively new technology, only growing more advanced. Even in today's world, the prospect of losing jobs to robots, cell phones as a cause of social withdrawal, and other technologically related fears are hot topics. In Dickens' work, we see this tension come into play, concerning humanity as it contends with the technology of the train. Though the apparitions in this story appear to serve as more blatant threats, further analysis will show that the apparitions themselves are never the direct cause of any real danger. Though the specters serve to conjure presentiments of violence, the actual danger is only ever perpetrated by the train itself. The tension between humanity and technology is further demonstrated by the naming, or lack thereof, of the main characters. The duty of the signalman was to warn train drivers of the potential for danger, and his death is ironically caused by the train itself. Even in his death, he is only referred to as the signalman, meaning that his entire identity resided within his relationship to the train, the same technology that led to his ultimate demise.

It is no secret that women in the 19th century had little agency in comparison to men, especially concerning marriage. However, the use of the word "consent" caught my attention. The issue of consent seems more contemporary. This is not to say that consent, or lack thereof, has only proved to be an issue in more modern times. but rather that the mention of this issue seems delightfully out of place in the context of a story written in the 1860s. Gaskell manages to make a subtle yet certain critique of this patriarchally constructed inequity merely by mention of it. The juxtaposition of this progressive yet understated critique, alongside a female narrator who is timorous and dependent, raises questions about Gaskell's intention in posing this question. Is it as much posed to the reader within the story, as it is to those outside of it?

So often illustrations are reduced to ornamental supplements to a text. This common notion is the antithesis to what lies at the heart of Pre-Raphaelite thought: that the book in its entirety is a work of art, and that no element of it is subservient to another. Not only are illustrations capable of demonstrating authorial intent, but they go beyond that in facilitating distinct experiences and interpretations for individual readers.