When Louise hears the news that her husband, Brently, has died, she weeps uncontrollably, and the story uses the metaphor of a storm to suggest that Louise’s grief is a natural force that’s overwhelming, larger-than-life, and uncontrollable.
She wept at once, with sudden, wild abandonment, in her sister’s arms. When the storm of grief had spent itself she went away to her room alone. She would have no one follow her.
This metaphor makes it clear that Louise is, at first, genuinely devastated by the loss. The “storm of grief” is something that doesn’t end until it’s “spent itself,” which implies that this emotion is so powerful that it has a life of its own; it controls Louise, not the other way around. From this, the reader can infer that Louise’s relationship with Brently must have been at least somewhat loving and happy—otherwise, she wouldn’t be so upset. So, when she later grows excited about her newfound independence from her husband, it’s implied that this isn’t because she had a specific problem with Brently, but because she felt limited and stifled by marriage itself.
Likening Louise’s grief to a storm also contrasts with other women’s reactions to tragedy—just before this, the story suggests that most women react with a “paralyzed inability to accept its significance.” Louise also has a heart condition, so her sister Josephine tries to break the news to her gently. Both of these details point to the idea that women at this time (the late 19th century) were expected to be passive and fragile. Louise’s “wild” reaction, by contrast, hints at an inner strength and liveliness—traits that the story later suggests that Louise intentionally suppresses because society expects women to be delicate and mild-mannered. As such, Louise’s “storm of grief” hints that the people around her overprotect and underestimate her, making her seem weaker than she actually is.
After Louise weeps over her husband, Brently’s, death, the story uses an implied metaphor (a metaphor where one of the things being compared isn’t directly mentioned) to liken Louise’s exhaustion to a kind of ghost that’s haunting her:
There stood, facing the open window, a comfortable, roomy armchair. Into this she sank, pressed down by a physical exhaustion that haunted her body and seemed to reach into her soul.
This comparison emphasizes that Louise is, at first, genuinely upset by her husband’s death. She’s so distraught that her emotional and physical exhaustion seems to take on a life of its own and control her, the way a ghost might possess someone. Although Louise soon grows excited about the freedom that Brently’s death will afford her, this metaphor nonetheless implies that Mallards’ marriage wasn’t all bad. After all, Louise’s initial grief over losing him is so strong that its effects completely overpower her. The story thus implies that Louise doesn’t become happy about Brently’s death because he was particularly cruel to her, but because marriage in general is oppressive.
The metaphor in this passage also calls attention to the fact that Louise is emotionally and physically delicate. Prior to this, the reader learns that she has a heart condition and suppresses any strong feelings, because too much excitement could cause health problems. The “exhaustion” that “presse[s] down” on her here can thus be read as a result of her weak heart not being able to withstand strong emotion. This, in turn, calls attention to the way Louise’s physical limitations “haunt” her and loom over her life, preventing her from feeling the full range of human emotions—much like her dependency on Brently has prevented her from experiencing all that life has to offer.
After Louise finds out that her husband, Brently, has died in an accident, she locks herself in her bedroom to process the news. When her sister Josephine comes to check on her, the story uses an “elixir of life” as a metaphor for Louise’s newfound freedom.
Josephine was kneeling before the closed door with her lips to the keyhole, imploring for admission. “Louise, open the door! I beg; open the door—you will make yourself ill. What are you doing, Louise? For heaven’s sake open the door.”
“Go away. I am not making myself ill.” No; she was drinking in a very elixir of life through that open window.
Louise’s feeling that she’s “drinking in a very elixir of life” through her bedroom window suggests that her life as a housewife has been mentally and emotionally deadening. Now, her newfound independence (as represented by the outside world) is what has brought her back to life. Prior to this, the story describes the nearby town and the surrounding nature in rich sensory detail, emphasizing how beautiful, invigorating, and life-giving it seems. In fact, taking in this view is what spurs Louise (unbeknownst to Josephine) to shift from grief to excitement when she realizes that she’s finally free without her husband.
Now, with Brently out of the picture, Louise no longer has to fit a certain mold or obey anyone else. In this way, Brently’s death has given Louise the “elixir of life”: the world has opened up to her, offering her a kind of rebirth in the form of independence and new experiences.
