Question
Read chapters 57-59 of Great Expectations. Then, write three journal entries from the perspective of one of the characters below, exploring their motivations and decisions. You may choose to write journal entries from any three “dates,” so long as the entries reveal the character’s thoughts and feelings about specific events and people in the novel. Since you’ve read nearly the entire book and come to better understand some characters’ hidden motives, it may be interesting to write journal entries from earlier times in the novel.
Write three journal entries from Mrs.Joe Gargery
The entries attempt to imitate the character’s voice, thoughts, feelings, and motivations
The entries demonstrate an understanding of events in the novel
Each entry is at least six sentences in length
Write three journal entries from Mrs.Joe Gargery
The entries attempt to imitate the character’s voice, thoughts, feelings, and motivations
The entries demonstrate an understanding of events in the novel
Each entry is at least six sentences in length
Answers
Answered by
GPT-4o mini
**Journal Entry 1: March 12, 18—**
Today, I had the misfortune of encountering that convict again—always lurking on the outskirts of our lives, like a grim shadow. I had managed to forget about him, but he took the chance to remind us that we are hardly ever rid of our pasts. Pip, dear boy, so naïve and tender-hearted, took it upon himself to show kindness, though I can’t fathom why he would care for such a rascal! Why should we concern ourselves with the wretched, those who’ve chosen a life of crime? My role as his sister is one of discipline and duty, yet all I seem to do is struggle against the burdens of his heart. And what of my own? I work so hard, day in and day out, trying to keep this household running, to feed the mouths that depend on me, only to feel unappreciated—just an obstacle in their lives. I wish I felt more gratitude from him and Joe; after all, it is I who holds everything together.
**Journal Entry 2: May 25, 18—**
It is rather hard to know how to feel today. Pip has been acting strange, more wrapped up in his own thoughts than ever, driven by this dreadful desire for gentility. He hardly seems to notice the sacrifices that Joe and I make for him, the bitter toll my labors take on my body and soul. I see him gazing at the fine life he imagines for himself, a life I once dreamt about in the fleeting moments of my solitude, but that dream has faded, replaced by the relentless reality of toil and burden. I feel a twinge of envy when I catch a glimpse of how effortlessly he slips into the company of the likes of Miss Havisham and Estella, two women who seem to have it all. What of my own dreams? Why must I remain here, tethered by the mundane duties of home? I suppose that’s what duty is—a set of chains, heavy and unyielding. Yet, the thought of Pip abandoning us to chase this ever-elusive ideal gnaws at me.
**Journal Entry 3: July 18, 18—**
Today was the day my heart broke, shattering against the reality of my position in the lives of those I love most deeply. Pip arrived home with the hollowness of unfulfilled dreams etched across his face, and I felt that familiar bitterness rise within me. Has he really forgotten where he comes from? I am the one who has sacrificed, who has toiled to raise him—as if his seeking out of grander things somehow erases me, makes me invisible. But what hurt the most was how he spoke to me, as if I were nothing more than a burden, an unwanted weight. One more indignation heaped upon me after years of serving him. It is evident that he is ashamed of me and Joe. I have weathered so many storms, but the loss of affection, the loss of respect from those I love? That wounds deeper than any hunger I’ve endured. I can feel a knot of desperation tightening in my chest; how can I call myself a sister if my very existence seems to be a hindrance to his aspirations? All I want is to keep this family together, but it is becoming painfully clear that perhaps my own value has diminished in his eyes.
Today, I had the misfortune of encountering that convict again—always lurking on the outskirts of our lives, like a grim shadow. I had managed to forget about him, but he took the chance to remind us that we are hardly ever rid of our pasts. Pip, dear boy, so naïve and tender-hearted, took it upon himself to show kindness, though I can’t fathom why he would care for such a rascal! Why should we concern ourselves with the wretched, those who’ve chosen a life of crime? My role as his sister is one of discipline and duty, yet all I seem to do is struggle against the burdens of his heart. And what of my own? I work so hard, day in and day out, trying to keep this household running, to feed the mouths that depend on me, only to feel unappreciated—just an obstacle in their lives. I wish I felt more gratitude from him and Joe; after all, it is I who holds everything together.
**Journal Entry 2: May 25, 18—**
It is rather hard to know how to feel today. Pip has been acting strange, more wrapped up in his own thoughts than ever, driven by this dreadful desire for gentility. He hardly seems to notice the sacrifices that Joe and I make for him, the bitter toll my labors take on my body and soul. I see him gazing at the fine life he imagines for himself, a life I once dreamt about in the fleeting moments of my solitude, but that dream has faded, replaced by the relentless reality of toil and burden. I feel a twinge of envy when I catch a glimpse of how effortlessly he slips into the company of the likes of Miss Havisham and Estella, two women who seem to have it all. What of my own dreams? Why must I remain here, tethered by the mundane duties of home? I suppose that’s what duty is—a set of chains, heavy and unyielding. Yet, the thought of Pip abandoning us to chase this ever-elusive ideal gnaws at me.
**Journal Entry 3: July 18, 18—**
Today was the day my heart broke, shattering against the reality of my position in the lives of those I love most deeply. Pip arrived home with the hollowness of unfulfilled dreams etched across his face, and I felt that familiar bitterness rise within me. Has he really forgotten where he comes from? I am the one who has sacrificed, who has toiled to raise him—as if his seeking out of grander things somehow erases me, makes me invisible. But what hurt the most was how he spoke to me, as if I were nothing more than a burden, an unwanted weight. One more indignation heaped upon me after years of serving him. It is evident that he is ashamed of me and Joe. I have weathered so many storms, but the loss of affection, the loss of respect from those I love? That wounds deeper than any hunger I’ve endured. I can feel a knot of desperation tightening in my chest; how can I call myself a sister if my very existence seems to be a hindrance to his aspirations? All I want is to keep this family together, but it is becoming painfully clear that perhaps my own value has diminished in his eyes.
There are no human answers yet. A form for humans to post answers is coming very soon!