1.14: Bierce and the Language of Sensation (Pg.

76-83)

Learning Targets:
 Identify sensory details that give insights into the main character's state of mind.
 Analyze how different language choices can shift the tone of a text.
 Confirm or correct predictions made at the beginning of reading.

Objective: In this lesson, you will finish reading “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge”. You will
Identify sensory details that give insights into the main character’s state of mind as well as analyze
how different language choices can shift the tone of a text.

DEFINE:
SENSORY DETAILS: use the five senses (sight, touch, sound, taste, and smell) to add depth of
detail to writing
STATE OF MIND: a person's mood, or mental state, and the effect that mood has on the person's
thinking and behavior

AS YOU READ:
 Highlight text that describes what Farquhar sees, feels, and hears. (sensory details)
 Place a star */😀 next to details about the setting.
 Underline unfamiliar words and phrases.

SHORT STORY: (An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge Part 3)

18 As Peyton Farquhar fell straight downward through the bridge he lost consciousness and was as
one already dead. From this state he was awakened—ages later, it seemed to him—by the pain of a
sharp pressure upon his throat, followed by a sense of suffocation. Keen, poignant agonies seemed
to shoot from his neck downward through every fiber of his body and limbs. These pains appeared to
flash along well defined lines of ramification and to beat with an inconceivably rapid periodicity. They
seemed like streams of pulsating fire heating him to an intolerable temperature. As to his head, he
was conscious of nothing but a feeling of fullness—of congestion. These sensations were
unaccompanied by thought. The intellectual part of his nature was already effaced; he had power only
to feel, and feeling was torment. He was conscious of motion. Encompassed in a luminous cloud, of
which he was now merely the fiery heart, without material substance, he swung through unthinkable
arcs of oscillation, like a vast pendulum. Then all at once, with terrible suddenness, the light about
him shot upward with the noise of a loud splash; a frightful roaring was in his ears, and all was cold
and dark. The power of thought was restored; he knew that the rope had broken and he had fallen
into the stream. There was no additional strangulation; the noose about his neck was already
suffocating him and kept the water from his lungs. To die of hanging at the bottom of a river!—the
idea seemed to him ludicrous. He opened his eyes in the darkness and saw above him a gleam of
light, but how distant, how inaccessible! He was still sinking, for the light became fainter and fainter
until it was a mere glimmer. Then it began to grow and brighten, and he knew that he was rising
toward the surface—knew it with reluctance, for he was now very comfortable. “To be hanged and
drowned,” he thought, “that is not so bad; but I do not wish to be shot. No; I will not be shot; that is not
fair.”
19 He was not conscious of an effort, but a sharp pain in his wrist apprised him that he was trying to
free his hands. He gave the struggle his attention, as an idler might observe the feat of a juggler,
without interest in the outcome. What splendid effort!—what magnificent, what superhuman strength!
Ah, that was a fine endeavor! Bravo! The cord fell away; his arms parted and floated upward, the
hands dimly seen on each side in the growing light. He watched them with a new interest as first one
and then the other pounced upon the noose at his neck. They tore it away and thrust it fiercely aside,
its undulations resembling those of a water snake. “Put it back, put it back!” He thought he shouted
these words to his hands, for the undoing of the noose had been succeeded by the direst pang that
he had yet experienced. His neck ached horribly; his brain was on fire, his heart, which had been
fluttering faintly, gave a great leap, trying to force itself out at his mouth. His whole body was racked
and wrenched with an insupportable anguish! But his disobedient hands gave no heed to the
command. They beat the water vigorously with quick, downward strokes, forcing him to the surface.
He felt his head emerge; his eyes were blinded by the sunlight; his chest expanded convulsively, and
with a supreme and crowning agony his lungs engulfed a great draught of air, which instantly he
expelled in a shriek!
20 He was now in full possession of his physical senses. They were, indeed, preternaturally keen and
alert. Something in the awful disturbance of his organic system had so exalted and refined them that
they made record of things never before perceived. He felt the ripples upon his face and heard their
separate sounds as they struck. He looked at the forest on the bank of the stream, saw the individual
trees, the leaves and the veining of each leaf—he saw the very insects upon them: the locusts, the
brilliant bodied flies, the gray spiders stretching their webs from twig to twig. He noted the prismatic
colors in all the dewdrops upon a million blades of grass. The humming of the gnats that danced
above the eddies of the stream, the beating of the dragon flies' wings, the strokes of the water
spiders' legs, like oars which had lifted their boat—all these made audible music. A fish slid along
beneath his eyes and he heard the rush of its body parting the water.
21 He had come to the surface facing down the stream; in a moment the visible world seemed to
wheel slowly round, himself the pivotal point, and he saw the bridge, the fort, the soldiers upon the
bridge, the captain, the sergeant, the two privates, his executioners. They were in silhouette against
the blue sky. They shouted and gesticulated, pointing at him. The captain had drawn his pistol, but
did not fire; the others were unarmed. Their movements were grotesque and horrible, their forms
gigantic.

22 Suddenly he heard a sharp report and something struck the water smartly within a few inches of
his head, spattering his face with spray. He heard a second report, and saw one of the sentinels with
his rifle at his shoulder, a light cloud of blue smoke rising from the muzzle. The man in the water saw
the eye of the man on the bridge gazing into his own through the sights of the rifle. He observed that
it was a gray eye and remembered having read that gray eyes were keenest, and that all famous
marksmen had them. Nevertheless, this one had missed.
23 A counter-swirl had caught Farquhar and turned him half round; he was again looking at the forest
on the bank opposite the fort. The sound of a clear, high voice in a monotonous singsong now rang
out behind him and came across the water with a distinctness that pierced and subdued all other
sounds, even the beating of the ripples in his ears. Although no soldier, he had frequented camps
enough to know the dread significance of that deliberate, drawling, aspirated chant; the lieutenant on
shore was taking a part in the morning's work. How coldly and pitilessly—with what an even, calm
intonation, presaging, and enforcing tranquility in the men—with what accurately measured interval
fell those cruel words:
24 “Company!…Attention!…Shoulder arms!…Ready!…Aim!…Fire!”
25 Farquhar dived—dived as deeply as he could. The water roared in his ears like the voice of
Niagara, yet he heard the dull thunder of the volley and, rising again toward the surface, met shining
bits of metal, singularly flattened, oscillating slowly downward. Some of them touched him on the face
and hands, then fell away, continuing their descent. One lodged between his collar and neck; it was
uncomfortably warm and he snatched it out.
26 As he rose to the surface, gasping for breath, he saw that he had been a long time under water;
he was perceptibly farther downstream—nearer to safety. The soldiers had almost finished reloading;
the metal ramrods flashed all at once in the sunshine as they were drawn from the barrels, turned in
the air, and thrust into their sockets. The two sentinels fired again, independently and ineffectually.
27 The hunted man saw all this over his shoulder; he was now swimming vigorously with the current.
His brain was as energetic as his arms and legs; he thought with the rapidity of lightning:
28 “The officer,” he reasoned, “will not make that martinet's error a second time. It is as easy to dodge
a volley as a single shot. He has probably already given the command to fire at will. God help me, I
cannot dodge them all!”
29 An appalling splash within two yards of him was followed by a loud, rushing sound, DIMINUENDO,
which seemed to travel back through the air to the fort and died in an explosion which stirred the very
river to its deeps! A rising sheet of water curved over him, fell down upon him, blinded him, strangled
him! The cannon had taken a hand in the game. As he shook his head free from the commotion of the
smitten water he heard the deflected shot humming through the air ahead, and in an instant it was
cracking and smashing the branches in the forest beyond.
30 “They will not do that again,” he thought; “the next time they will use a charge of grape. I must
keep my eye upon the gun; the smoke will apprise me—the report arrives too late; it lags behind the
missile. That is a good gun.”
31 Suddenly he felt himself whirled round and round—spinning like a top. The water, the banks, the
forests, the now distant bridge, fort and men, all were commingled and blurred. Objects were
represented by their colors only; circular horizontal streaks of color—that was all he saw. He had
been caught in a vortex and was being whirled on with a velocity of advance and gyration that made
him giddy and sick. In few moments he was flung upon the gravel at the foot of the left bank of the
stream—the southern bank—and behind a projecting point which concealed him from his enemies.
The sudden arrest of his motion, the abrasion of one of his hands on the gravel, restored him, and he
wept with delight. He dug his fingers into the sand, threw it over himself in handfuls and audibly
blessed it. It looked like diamonds, rubies, emeralds; he could think of nothing beautiful which it did
not resemble. The trees upon the bank were giant garden plants; he noted a definite order in their
arrangement, inhaled the fragrance of their blooms. A strange roseate light shone through the spaces
among their trunks and the wind made in their branches the music of Aeolian harps. He had not wish
to perfect his escape—he was content to remain in that enchanting spot until retaken.
32 A whiz and a rattle of grapeshot among the branches high above his head roused him from his
dream. The baffled cannoneer had fired him a random farewell. He sprang to his feet, rushed up the
sloping bank, and plunged into the forest.
33 All that day he traveled, laying his course by the rounding sun. The forest seemed interminable;
nowhere did he discover a break in it, not even a woodman's road. He had not known that he lived in
so wild a region. There was something uncanny in the revelation.
34 By nightfall he was fatigued, footsore, famished. The thought of his wife and children urged him
on. At last he found a road which led him in what he knew to be the right direction. It was as wide and
straight as a city street, yet it seemed untraveled. No fields bordered it, no dwelling anywhere. Not so
much as the barking of a dog suggested human habitation. The black bodies of the trees formed a
straight wall on both sides, terminating on the horizon in a point, like a diagram in a lesson in
perspective. Overhead, as he looked up through this rift in the wood, shone great golden stars looking
unfamiliar and grouped in strange constellations. He was sure they were arranged in some order
which had a secret and malign significance. The wood on either side was full of singular noises,
among which—once, twice, and again—he distinctly heard whispers in an unknown tongue.
35 His neck was in pain and lifting his hand to it found it horribly swollen. He knew that it had a circle
of black where the rope had bruised it. His eyes felt congested; he could no longer close them. His
tongue was swollen with thirst; he relieved its fever by thrusting it forward from between his teeth into
the cold air. How softly the turf had carpeted the untraveled avenue—he could no longer feel the
roadway beneath his feet!
36 Doubtless, despite his suffering, he had fallen asleep while walking, for now he sees another
scene—perhaps he has merely recovered from a delirium. He stands at the gate of his own home. All
is as he left it, and all bright and beautiful in the morning sunshine. He must have traveled the entire
night. As he pushes open the gate and passes up the wide white walk, he sees a flutter of female
garments; his wife, looking fresh and cool and sweet, steps down from the veranda to meet him. At
the bottom of the steps she stands waiting, with a smile of ineffable joy, an attitude of matchless
grace and dignity. Ah, how beautiful she is! He springs forwards with extended arms. As he is about
to clasp her he feels a stunning blow upon the back of the neck; a blinding white light blazes all about
him with a sound like the shock of a cannon—then all is darkness and silence!
37 Peyton Farquhar was dead; his body, with a broken neck, swung gently from side to side beneath
the timbers of the Owl Creek bridge.

Making Observations:
1. What settings does Farquhar visit?
The settings that Farquhar visits are the top of the bridge, the river, and his house

2. In what ways does Farquhar's state of mind change over the course of Part 3?
Farquhar state of mind changes from part 3. At first he is in a lot of pain, then he is determined
to survive, and then he is aware that he is dead.
 3. What pushes Farquhar to keep trying to survive?
Farquhar is pushing to survive because if his wife and kids

Working from the Text:

1. Revisit the sensory descriptions you highlighted while reading Part 3 of this story and copy
examples of what Farquhar feels, sees, and hears below:
 Farquhar feels –
 His neck was in pain and lifting his hand to it found it horribly swollen. He knew
that it had a circle of black where the rope had bruised it (p35)


 Farquhar sees –
 As he pushes open the gate and passes up the wide white walk, he sees a flutter
of female garments; his wife, looking fresh and cool and sweet, steps down from
the veranda to meet him (p36)


 Farquhar hears –
 The wood on either side was full of singular noises, among which—once, twice,
and again—he distinctly heard whispers in an unknown tongue. (p34)


2. Think about the contrast in the final two sentences from the story:
“As he is about to clasp her he feels a stunning blow upon the back of the neck; a blinding
white light blazes all about him with a sound like the shock of a cannon—then all is darkness
and silence!”
vs.

“Peyton Farquhar was dead; his body, with a broken neck, swung gently from side to side
beneath the timbers of the Owl Creek bridge.”
Now write a sentence beginning with the word while to tell about how the word choice and sensory
details in the penultimate sentence differ from those in the final sentence. You may use the following
sentence stem:
While the second-to-last sentence has three sensory details from Farquhar’s perspective , the last
sentence focus only on the observiable.

Appreciating the Author's Craft:

1. Complete the following outline by identifying from whose perspective each part of “An
Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” is told. Include notes on whether and how perspective shifts
within each part of the story.
“An Occurrence at Who’s Notes on Perspective
Owl Creek Bridge” Perspective
Part 1 Narrator focus on describing the scene and Farquhar’s
3rd omniscient appearance. Near the end we start to hear what
narrator/ Farquhar’s is thinking but minimal sensory details
Farquhar

Part 2 The narrator focuses on what Farquhar sees and feels

3rd narrator though telling us what the sensory details are

Part 3 It shows many sensory details and shows what Farquhar

3rd omniscient is felling seeing and hearing but towards the end it
narrator/ switches back to 3rd person
Farquhar

Final Sentence Void of sensory details, and sating the observable

2. Answer the following questions:

 How would the story be different if it ended with “all is darkness and silence”?
No one would know that he was hallucinating

 Revisit the Essential Question about telling details. Which details in the story did you
find most telling when trying to understand Farquhar and his situation?
Part 2 because it shows why he cares so much about the war and why he would
do anything for the southern cause