University of California Berkeley Nella Larsen Passing Comments Instructions: Use the “Add a Comment” function to contribute your thoughts about this pass

University of California Berkeley Nella Larsen Passing Comments Instructions:

Use the “Add a Comment” function to contribute your thoughts about this passage from Nella Larsen’s novel Passing
Remember that we’ve posted a Sample Close-Reading Collaboration in Module 1, as well as Tips for Collaborating in a Google Doc.
Additionally, more specific information regarding expectations and grading standards for close reading comments can be found in Prof. Palau’s June 25 announcement, titled “Important Reminders: Weekly Due Dates, Books for Purchase, Collaborations Assignments, and more”
In your comments, be sure to pay attention to the relationship between the passage’s form and its content (see Sample Close-Reading Collaboration for examples of this kind of commentary). Also, read any comments that your instructor wrote on your group’s previous Collaborative Close-Reading documents since these are intended to help you see ways in which you might push your readings further.
While aspects of the prose text’s “form” might be less obvious than those in a poem, it is still crucial to think about how the text says what it says. How “the how” affects your understanding of “the what” is another way to conceptualize the relationship between form and content in a text.
For example, are there any interesting or unusal uses of certain words or metaphors? Are ideas brought together in unexpected ways? How does the tone of the passage connect to what it depicts? What details does the passage focus on? What is significant about those specific details? What does it leave out?

Passage from Nella Larsen’s Passing, Pages 66-67

Irene was on her feet before she realized that she had risen. “What I really mean,” she retorted, “is that it’s dangerous and that you ought not to run such silly risks. No one ought to. You least of all.”

Her voice was brittle. For into her mind had come a thought, strange and irrelevant, a suspicion, that had surprised and shocked her and driven her to her feet. It was that in spite of her determined selfishness the woman before her was yet capable of heights and depths of feeling that she, Irene Redfield, had never known. Indeed, never cared to know. The thought, the suspicion, was gone as quickly as it had come.

Clare said: “Oh me!”

Irene touched her arm caressingly, as if in contrition for that flashing thought. “Yes, Clare, you. It’s not safe. Not safe at all.”

“Safe!”

It seemed to Irene that Clare had snapped her teeth down on the word and then flung it from her. And for another flying second she had that suspicion of Clare’s ability for a quality of feeling that was to her strange, and even repugnant. She was aware, too, of a dim premonition of some impending disaster. It was as if Clare Kendry had said to her, for whom safety, security, were all-important: “Safe! Damn being safe!” and meant it.

With a gesture of impatience she sat down. In a voice of cool formality, she said: “Brian and I have talked the whole thing over carefully and decided that it isn’t wise. He says itf’s always a dangerous business, this coming back. He’s seen more than one come to grief because of it. And, Clare, considering everything—Mr. Bellew’s attitude and all that—don’t you think you ought to be as careful as you can?”

Clare’s deep voice broke the small silence that had followed Irene’s speech. She said, speaking almost plaintively: “I ought to have known. It’s Jack. I don’t blame you for being angry, though I must say you behaved beautifully that day. But I did think you’d understand, ‘Rene. It was that, partly, that has made me want to see other people. It just swooped down and changed everything. If it hadn’t been for that, I’d have gone on to the end, never seeing any of you. But that did something to me, and I’ve been so lonely since! You can’t know. Not close to a single soul. Never anyone to really talk to.”