Ophelia's Death

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Last edited by 200397 on Thu Feb 04, 2010 3:44 am, edited 5 times in total.




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that was good I haven't read Hamlet but have seen the movie (my dad's an English teacher). I thought that the way you wrote it even if some one read it (like me) that hasn't read the book or even seen the movie could tell how crazy Ophelia really was. It was good!
~peanut~
There is a light in you, a Vision in the making with sorrow enough to extinguish the stars. I can help you.
~And The Light Fades


The people down here are our zombies, who should be dead or not exist but do.
~Away From What We Started


P.S Got YWS?




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Heyy Sunny, I finally managed to get to your review =D woop, woop =P . I love reading your stuff, so I can't wait to get started on this :D ... Oooh!! And one small thing I think I should let you know is that I haven't read Hamlet (shocking, I know), so I hope that won't affect my reviewing help, so off I go, I really hope this helps you out!! :D

200397 wrote:Her raven-black hair streaming behind her like a flag in the wind, Ophelia ran [move this to the start, adding 'with' onto the end: Ophelia ran, with her raven-black...]. Her bare feet slapped against the cold stone floor of the lonely palace corridor. Distantly, in the back of her mind, she could hear voices calling for her over her insane giggling. [Can we add in any location imagery of the palace, or doesn't she notice their surroundings? If not, put in something like: her surroundings blurred along with her fast feet - whoa, that's a bad example =P haha, you can do a lot better than that, its just a pointer :wink: hehe]

Elated, she pumped her arms, laughing with delight, leaping like a deer, willing herself to go faster and faster. The air coming from the door ahead was so cool, so clean. She wished it would blow through her, into every orifice, cleansing and refreshing that which had been defiled . . . [This is a great paragraph, and beautifully writeen, but a nagging part at the back of my part is questioning her surroundings and where she's going. Does she know where she's going? If not, say so, if she does, show so :wink: hehe]

A sob caught in her throat as she neared the open double doors leading outside. Her mind revisited the painful memories she had tried so hard to bury, suppress forget [using all three of those grouped together doesn't sound right, so I would choose just one - I think supress would be the best one to use (: ]. Dead! [Direct thoughts = italics] she thought for the thousandth time. Dead, gone; her brother lost, her lover fled. Her father dead. [Ooh, brilliant!!]

Her naked foot caught a rift in the ice-cold stone and she fell forward in the doorway. Her chin smacked the marble tiles and she felt her knee crack [did any pain come along with this 'crack'?]. She lifted her head, gazing about like a lost child, the voices echoing in her mind again.

A blast of chilly air caught her in the face, and slowly, she forgot the pain in her face and knee and what had caused her fall. She grinned. How lovely, how delightful [What does she think is wonderful and delightful? Elaborate, please (: ]! Denmark was always beautiful in the spring; and as the last of the winter winds swept across her prostrate body, creeping under and around her thin white night dress, she felt her sorrow dissolve. [Beautiful wording Sunny; awesome stuff!! :D ]

What a lovely day! The banks of snow were retreating, and little spring shoots were growing from the damp soil. The rushing sound of the nearby spring caught her attention and held it.

It was a fairly large stream, ten or so feet wide, and a deep, enchanting blue, the color of [s]the[/s] melted snow of the mountains. And [try to refrain from starting sentences with and; it makes your work look and sound so much nicer if you do. You could probably cut this and, as it's not really needed, or you could link it with the previous sentence with a semi colon - it's up to you!! (: ] all around the bank grew flowers. Oh, lovely flowers! [italics] she thought as she pranced gaily to examine them. Nettles, crow flowers, and daisies, in full bloom,[delete this comma] brushed against her hips; their stems were so tall. [Again, where is she? Her surroundings are hazy; can she see the place where she ran from in the background...?]

Upon the damp, cool ground she sat, and pulled the flowers from the earth. She sang a wilting melody as she wove them into a crown for herself, a crown of nature’s diamonds and emeralds. When she was satisfied with her work, she placed the wreath gently upon her own black curls.

Ophelia gazed around her, still singing absentmindedly her sad tune [I would try and rephrase this, as it just doesn't sound right, I'm not too sure why though, but it just seems to stick out a little to me. I think the words need to be swapped round or something, I'm not too sure... Hm, that wasn't much help was it? Haha, sorry if I'm being unhelpful there =P ]. She stood, letting her feet take her where they would, and walked through the weeds, barely noticing the sting of the nettleson her bare skin [?], till she came to the base of a tall, regal willow.

It was then that she began to cry, as she looked at the tree, its sad branches drooping morosely down to kiss the brook. She cried as she watched the willow cry, and without thinking, she began to climb it. She leaned out on a branch that hung over the glassy stream, peering curiously down at her own reflection.

A beautiful girl gazed back at her, her black hair tucked behind her ears with the help of a lovely circlet of blossoms. The fair skin of her face, clear and pristine, glistened with tears. [What does Ophelia think about seeing this 'girl' - does she realise that it's her? And great descriptions and imagery here by the way :D ]

A cracking sound rent the peaceful air, and down Ophelia fell. She hit the water and her breath left her temporarily. She did not understand what had happened, but she did not mind being wet. She wanted to find that pretty girl [from reading this, I can now tell that she didn't know her reflection was herslef - you need to make that clearer earlier on], to talk to her and to ask her why she wept.

Ophelia giggled to herself as the glacial water of the brook tickled her body as she floated downstream. Incapable of her own distress, she continued singing, unaware of how water-logged her dress and her hair were becoming. So wet, so heavy [I would maybe have this as a seperate paragraph on its own to add extra impact? What do you think?].

A numb, indifferent sensation gradually came over her, and she was grateful to not feel anything. She felt nothing, nothing at all, but the gentle pull of the water. She closed her eyes, suddenly sleepy.

As her song fell away, and her dress dragged her down, the fair Ophelia sank into a dark, cold place of thoughtlessness without fear at all. [Brilliant ending; great job!! :D]


Overall Thoughts
This was a beautiful piece that you should be very proud of, so well done on this amazing piece - you are a very talented writer, Sunny :D. :smt023 :smt041 :thud: = totally overwhelmed by your complete awesomness and fatablousness (a lucyy word =P ).
I could only find a few minor nitpicks, but one thing I would advice for you to do, which would (if it's actaully possible) make this better than it already is is paying more attention to detail i.e Ophelia's thoughts& feelings and her surroundings, if you improve on that then you're work here is done :wink: hehe. Well done on a great piece, Sunny, you are so getting a gold star for this =D

Keep writing!!
--Lucyy xx
"Don't think, or judge. Just Listen."




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I agree with you about Ophila's death being rather underdone. Now, a review.

She did not understand what had happened, but she did not mind being wet.


In such a well written piece, this telling is really out of place. Try to keep us in her head until the last possible moment, with a gradual fade to an outside view.

Other then that and a few to many commas (which lucyy has already pointed out) this was really nice.

Ophila: Her character was always rather underdeveloped in Hamlet, but you've managed to take what little given and turn it into a believable character. Since you show us over and over how indifferent and rather simple-minded she is at this point in the play the description works.

Imagery: A very nice job on this. We can see snapshots of what you're discribing, which is better then giving us a huge paragraph of exactly what is around. You also tie the surrounding world to you MC, something that is usually missing.

Overall- I hope you get an A for this! Amazing job!

If you have any questions PM me.

~Rosey
A writer is a world trapped in a person— Victor Hugo

Ink is blood. Paper is bandages. The wounded press books to their heart to know they're not alone.




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This was a great piece. Tons of beautiful imagery and language.
Very well written without many mistakes I could find. To my knowledge, your grammar was in line. And I liked your descriptions a lot a lot.

But there are some nit picks I have:

I've never read Hamlet, so I don't know who Ophelia is, but she's insane right? That's what I made her out to be from your story.
I just thought it was a little fuzzy in between when she's running through the corridor and when she's in her fantasy world. It is a fantasy world, right? Maybe really make it more defined that she's hallucinating or daydreaming or whatever.
Also, some of your wording came off as a little... off to me. Like certain combinations don't exactly fit, you know?
I'd suggest reading out loud a little to yourself to hear how it sounds.

Overall I do think this piece was fabulous.
Keep writing. :]
-jade.
--->Don't forget we've got unfinished business. Stories yet to unfold, tales that must be retold.
-Alex Gaskarth




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Thanks guys! I rewrote this and re-posted it as "I Will" under other fiction. I think it has improved a lot. :wink:

~Sunny




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This is really descriptive and i thought that the last paragraph was really great it seemed that you had actually experienced dying and it was really beautiful



The thing about plummeting downhill at fifty miles an hour on a snack platter - if you realize it's a bad idea when you're halfway down, it's too late.
— Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune