An excerpt from the work about Henry the last leaf. Analysis of O'Henry's story "The Last Leaf"

Sep 25, 2017

The Last Leaf of O. Henry

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Title: The Last Leaf

About the book “The Last Leaf” by O. Henry

The novella “The Last Leaf” by the American writer O. Henry was first published at the beginning of the twentieth century. She instantly found her reader, like all the stories of this famous author. Critics unanimously argue that pamphlets and miniature stories are one of the most difficult genres in fiction, but despite this, the writer became popular precisely because of them.

O. Henry’s unique ability to present important and deep thoughts, emotions and phenomena in miniature was clearly demonstrated in the work “The Last Leaf”. This story unites everything that can surround a person: sadness, joy, illness, hope, laughter and tears, the will to one’s own strength and the capabilities of another person. The desire to live and become better is what permeates the short story of one of the American classics of the twentieth century.

The story of the book “The Last Leaf” develops around two young girls - artists Sue and Jonesy. In late autumn, trouble happened, and the second girl fell ill with severe pneumonia, which broke her spirit and forced her to lie in bed for days. Watching the falling leaves outside the window and counting them, she thought that when the last leaf fell from the tree, the disease would take her away forever.

The writer emphasizes that “our entire pharmacopoeia loses its meaning when people begin to act in the interests of the undertaker.” Therefore, everyone around is trying to support the young lady in every possible and even impossible way. The heroine of the story “The Last Leaf” comes to the aid of her downstairs neighbor, the sixty-year-old artist Berman, who has dreamed of painting a masterpiece all his life. Without doing anything about it, a man simply floats through life, following the flow.

One day the very moment comes when everyone gets a chance to prove themselves. And the last leaf on the weak tree continues to fight nature, awakening the will to live and self-confidence of the girl with a cold. What is the secret of such a strange coincidence? Why do many people choose to give up rather than fight for their happiness?

In the short story, O. Henry, traditionally for himself, describes not just the story of three personalities, but also connects two masterpieces: the one that can only be written with paints and the one that is manifested by feelings through attitude. Self-sacrifice, high ideals, faith in human dignity and will are things without which it is difficult to remain Human.

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Quotes from the book “The Last Leaf” by O. Henry

Our entire pharmacopoeia becomes meaningless when people begin to act in the interests of the undertaker.

The yellow leaf fell onto Soapy's lap. It was the calling card of Santa Claus...

There are two cases in life that don’t know how they will end: when a man drinks for the first time and when a woman drinks for the last.

Miss Leslie,” he began hastily, “I have exactly a minute of time.” I have to tell you something. Be my wife. I didn’t have time to look after you properly, but I really love you. Answer quickly, please - these scoundrels are knocking the last breath out of these "Pacific".
<...>
“I understand,” she said softly. - This exchange has crowded everything else out of your head. And at first I was scared. Have you forgotten, Harvey? We got married yesterday at eight o'clock in the evening in the Little Church around the corner.

I want to see the last leaf fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to free myself from everything that holds me - to fly, to fly lower and lower, like one of these poor, tired leaves.

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Brief summary of the work
Two young artists, Sue and Jonesy, rent an apartment on the top floor of a building in New York's Greenwich Village, where artists have long settled. In November, Jonesy falls ill with pneumonia. The doctor’s verdict is disappointing: “She has a one in ten chance. And only if she herself wants to live.” But Jonesy had just lost interest in life. She lies in bed, looks out the window and counts how many leaves are left on the old ivy, which has entwined its shoots around the wall opposite. Jonesy is convinced that when the last leaf falls, she will die.
Sue talks about her friend's dark thoughts to the old artist Berman, who lives downstairs. He has been planning to create a masterpiece for a long time, but so far something has not come together. Having heard about Jonesy, old man Berman was terribly upset and did not want to pose for Sue, who painted him as a hermit gold miner.
The next morning it turns out that there is only one leaf left on the ivy. Jonesy watches how he resists the gusts of wind. It got dark, it began to rain, the wind blew even stronger, and Johnsy has no doubt that in the morning she will no longer see this leaf. But she is wrong: to her great surprise, the brave leaf continues to fight the bad weather. This makes a strong impression on Jonesy. She becomes ashamed of her cowardice, and she gains the desire to live. The doctor who visited her notes an improvement. In his opinion, the chances of surviving and dying are already equal. He adds that the neighbor downstairs also caught pneumonia, but the poor fellow has no chance of recovery. A day later, the doctor declares that Jonesy’s life is now out of danger. In the evening, Sue tells her friend the sad news: old man Berman has died in the hospital. He caught a cold that stormy night when the ivy lost its last leaf and the artist drew a new one and, under the pouring rain and icy wind, attached it to the branch. Berman still created his masterpiece.

O'Henry's story "The Last Leaf" is dedicated to how the main character, an artist, saves the life of a terminally ill girl at the cost of his own life. He does this thanks to his creativity, and his last work turns out to be a kind of parting gift to her.

Several people live in a small apartment, among them two young friends, Sue and Jonesy, and an old artist, Berman. One of the girls, Jonesy, becomes seriously ill, and the saddest thing is that she herself almost doesn’t want to live, she refuses to fight for life.

The girl determines for herself that she will die when the last leaf falls from the tree growing near her window, and convinces herself of this thought. But the artist cannot come to terms with the fact that she will simply wait for her death, preparing for it.

And he decides to outwit both death and nature - at night he wraps a drawn paper sheet, a copy of the real one, to a branch with a thread, so that the last leaf never falls and, therefore, the girl does not give herself the “command” to die.

His plan works: the girl, still waiting for the last leaf to fall and her death, begins to believe in the possibility of recovery. Watching as the last leaf does not fall and does not fall, she begins to slowly come to her senses. And, in the end, the disease wins.

However, soon after her own recovery, she learns that old man Berman has just died in the hospital. It turns out that he caught a serious cold when he hung a fake leaf on a tree on a cold, windy night. The artist dies, but as a memory of him, the girls are left with this leaf, created on the night when the last one actually fell.

Reflections on the purpose of the artist and art

O'Henry in this story reflects on what the actual purpose of the artist and art is. Describing the story of this unfortunate sick and hopeless girl, he comes to the conclusion that talented people come into this world in order to help simpler people and save their.

Because no one, except a person endowed with a creative imagination, could have had such an absurd and at the same time such a wonderful idea - to replace real sheets with paper ones, drawing them so skillfully that no one could tell the difference. But the artist had to pay for this salvation with his own life; this creative decision turned out to be a kind of swan song.

He also talks about the will to live. After all, as the doctor said, Jonesy had a chance to survive only if she herself believed in such a possibility. But the girl was ready to give up cowardly until she saw the last leaf that had not fallen. O'Henry makes it clear to readers that everything in their lives depends only on themselves, that with willpower and a thirst for life one can even defeat death.

In a small block west of Washington Square, the streets became confused and broke into short strips called thoroughfares. These passages form strange angles and curved lines. One street there even crosses itself twice. A certain artist managed to discover a very valuable property of this street. Suppose a store picker with a bill for paint, paper and canvas meets himself there, going home without receiving a single cent of the bill!

And so people of art came across the peculiar quarter of Greenwich Village in search of north-facing windows, 18th-century roofs, Dutch attics and cheap rent. Then they moved a few pewter mugs and a brazier or two there from Sixth Avenue and founded a “colony.”

Sue and Jonesy's studio was located at the top of a three-story brick house. Jonesy is a diminutive of Joanna. One came from Maine, the other from California. They met at the table d'hôte of a restaurant on Volma Street and found that their views on art, endive salad and fashionable sleeves completely coincided. As a result, a common studio arose.

This was in May. In November, an inhospitable stranger, whom doctors call Pneumonia, walked invisibly around the colony, touching one thing or another with his icy fingers. Along the East Side, this murderer walked boldly, killing dozens of victims, but here, in the labyrinth of narrow, moss-covered alleys, he trudged foot after naked.

Mr. Pneumonia was by no means a gallant old gentleman. A petite girl, anemic from California marshmallows, was hardly a worthy opponent for the burly old dunce with the red fists and the shortness of breath. However, he knocked her down, and Jonesy lay motionless on the painted iron bed, looking through the shallow frame of the Dutch window at the blank wall of the neighboring brick house.

One morning, the preoccupied doctor with one movement of his shaggy gray eyebrows called Sue into the corridor.

“She has one chance... well, let’s say, against ten,” he said, shaking off the mercury in the thermometer. - And only if she herself wants to live. Our entire pharmacopoeia becomes meaningless when people begin to act in the interests of the undertaker. Your little lady has decided that she will never get better. What is she thinking about?

“She... she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples.”

- With paints? Nonsense! Is there something on her soul that is really worth thinking about, for example, a man?

“Well, then she’s just weakened,” the doctor decided. “I will do everything I can do as a representative of science.” But when my patient starts counting the carriages in his funeral procession, I knock off fifty percent of the healing power of the drugs. If you can get her to even once ask what style of sleeves will be worn this winter, I guarantee you that she will have a one in five chance instead of a one in ten.

After the doctor left, Sue ran into the workshop and cried into a Japanese paper napkin until it was completely soaked. Then she bravely walked into Jonesy's room with a drawing board, whistling ragtime.

Johnsy lay with her face turned to the window, barely visible under the blankets. Sue stopped whistling, thinking Johnsy had fallen asleep.

She set up the board and began an ink drawing of the magazine story. For young artists, the path to Art is paved with illustrations for magazine stories, with which young authors pave their way to Literature.

While sketching the figure of an Idaho cowboy in smart breeches and a monocle for the story, Sue heard a quiet whisper repeated several times. She hurriedly walked to the bed. Jonesy's eyes were wide open. She looked out the window and counted - counted backwards.

“Twelve,” she said, and a little later: “eleven,” and then: “ten” and “nine,” and then: “eight” and “seven,” almost simultaneously.

Sue looked out the window. What was there to count? All that was visible was an empty, dull courtyard and the blank wall of a brick house twenty paces away. An old, old ivy with a gnarled trunk, rotten at the roots, wove half of the brick wall. The cold breath of autumn tore the leaves from the vines, and the bare skeletons of the branches clung to the crumbling bricks.

-What is it, honey? – asked Sue.

“Six,” Jonesy answered, barely audible. “Now they fly around much faster.” Three days ago there were almost a hundred of them. My head was spinning to count. And now it's easy. Another one has flown. Now there are only five left.

- What's five, honey? Tell your Sudie.

- Listyev. On the ivy. When the last leaf falls, I will die. I've known this for three days now. Didn't the doctor tell you?

– This is the first time I’ve heard such nonsense! – Sue retorted with magnificent contempt. “What could the leaves on the old ivy have to do with your getting better?” And you still loved this ivy so much, ugly girl! Don't be stupid. But even today the doctor told me that you would soon recover...excuse me, how did he say that?..that you have ten chances against one. But this is no less than what each of us here in New York experiences when riding a tram or walking past a new house. Try to eat a little broth and let your Sudie finish the drawing so she can sell it to the editor and buy wine for her sick girl and pork cutlets for herself.

“You don’t need to buy any more wine,” answered Jonesy, looking intently out the window. - Another one has flown. No, I don't want any broth. So that leaves only four. I want to see the last leaf fall. Then I will die too.

Two young artists, Sue and Joanna, rent a small studio together in the bohemian quarter of New York. In cold November, Joanna becomes seriously ill with pneumonia. All day long she lies in bed and looks out the window overlooking the gray wall of the neighboring building. The wall is covered with old ivy, flying under the gusts of the autumn wind. Joanna counts the falling leaves, she is sure that she will die when the wind blows the last leaf from the vine. The doctor tells Sue that the drugs won't help unless Joanna feels at least some interest in life. Sue doesn't know how to help her sick friend.

Sue visits her neighbor Berman to ask him to pose for a book illustration. She tells him that Joanna is sure of her imminent death along with the last ivy leaf that has flown away. The old, drinking artist, an embittered loser who dreamed of fame but never started a single painting, just laughs at these ridiculous fantasies.

The next morning, the friends see that one single ivy leaf is still miraculously in place, and all the following days too. Joanna comes to life, they consider this a sign that they should continue to live. The doctor visiting Joanna tells them that old Berman has been sent to the hospital with pneumonia.

The patient is recovering quickly and soon her life is out of danger. Then Sue tells her friend that the old artist has died. He got pneumonia while drawing on the wall of a neighboring building on a rainy and cold night the same lonely ivy leaf that had not flown away, which saved the young girl’s life. The very masterpiece that he had been planning to write all his life.

Detailed retelling

Two young female artists came from the deep provinces to New York. The girls are close childhood friends. Their names were Sue and Jonesy. They decided to rent a place for themselves, since they have no friends or relatives in such a large city. We chose an apartment in Greenwich Village, on the very top floor. Everyone knows that people associated with creativity live in this quarter.

At the end of October and the beginning of November it was very cold, the girls did not have warm clothes, and Johnsy fell ill. The doctor's diagnosis saddened the girls. Pneumonia disease. The doctor said she has a one in a million chance of getting out. But the girl lost the spark in her life. The girls just lie on the bed, look out the window, then at the sky, at the trees and wait for the time of their death. She sees a tree from which leaves are falling. She decides for herself that as soon as the last leaf breaks, she will leave for another world.

Sue is looking for ways to get her friend back on her feet. She meets Elder Berman, he is an artist, who lives on the floor below. The master keeps trying to create a work of art, but it just doesn’t work out. Having learned about the girl, the old man was upset. In the evening, a strong storm began with rain and thunderstorms, Johnsy knew that in the morning the leaf on the tree would be gone, just like her. But what was her surprise that after such a disaster the leaf stayed on the tree. Jnosi was very surprised by this. She blushes, she feels ashamed, and suddenly she wants to live and fight.

The doctor came and noticed that the body was improving. The chances were 50% to 50%. The doctor came to the house again, the body began to climb out. The doctor said that there was an epidemic going through the house, and the old man from the bottom floor was also sick with the disease and maybe the next day the doctor’s visit was more joyful, as he said wonderful news. Jonesy will live and the danger is over.

In the evening, Sue learns that the artist below died from an illness; his body stopped fighting the disease. Berman fell ill on that very terrible night when nature was raging. He depicted the same ivy leaf and, under heavy rain and cold wind, climbed a tree to attach it. Since there wasn’t a single leaf left on the ivy then. The Creator still created his excellent masterpiece. Thus, he saved the girl’s life and sacrificed his own.