Freeman’s writing style is simultaneously verbose and economical. When Louisa is alone in nature, Freeman’s writing style become flowery, full of rich descriptions and evocative language. Take, for example, the following passage when Louisa is on a stroll alone at night:
Tall shrubs of blueberry and meadow-sweet, all woven together and tangled with blackberry vines and horsebriers, shut her in on either side […] Opposite her, on the other side of the road, was a spreading tree; the moon shone between its boughs, and the leaves twinkled like silver. The road was bespread with a beautiful shifting dapple of silver and shadow; the air was full of a mysterious sweetness. “I wonder if it’s wild grapes?” murmured Louisa. She sat there some time.
Here, Freeman’s writing style is full of imagery, helping readers to see the natural world through Louisa’s eyes—they can picture the “tall shrubs of blueberry and meadow-sweet, all woven together and tangled,” the “leaves twinkl[ing] like silver,” and the “beautiful shifting dapple of silver and shadow.” Likewise, they can smell the “mysterious sweetness” in the air.
When Louisa is with Joe, on the other hand, Freeman’s writing style becomes much simpler and direct, like in the following passage:
Presently Dagget began fingering the books on the table. […] Louisa kept eying them with mild uneasiness. Finally she rose and changed the position of the books, putting the album underneath. That was the way they had been arranged in the first place. Dagget gave an awkward little laugh.
Freeman’s sentences here are much shorter, and focus on literally describing the movements in a scene rather than adding any romantic language or imagery. Readers don’t even get to know how either character is feeling—Joe “gave an awkward laugh” and, because the writing style has become more stilted, readers feel awkward, too. The juxtaposition of writing styles is one way that Freeman communicates how free Louisa feels when she’s alone and how restrained she feels when she’s with Joe.
