In Depth Ellen Hopkins Analysis: Burned, Impulse, and Identical

In Depth Ellen Hopkins Analysis: Burned, Impulse, and Identical Narrative and stylistic techniques are the marrow of any well written piece of literature, the spine of a work’s essence. Award winning author Ellen Hopkins spins a sticky web of tragedy, comedy, and shock with each page-turner she writes. The setting, conflict, characterization, and motif of each story allow the reader to delve deeper into each work’s meaning, but this would not be possible without the use of various rhetorical techniques and structural diction. Hopkins employs a vast array of techniques to convey a connected theme in her novels Impulse, Burned, and Identical that in a harsh and unloving environment emerge those bold enough to survive in a harsh and unloving world.

Rhetorical techniques are used to create literary effect, often without regard to literal meaning. Ellen Hopkins utilizes this stylistic technique to bring to surface the dramatic conflicts, evocative thoughts, and deeper meanings of her works. All three novels contain heavy foreshadowing, but each has its own specific rhetorical technique that makes it stand out. Impulse incorporates repetition in order to make important subject matter stand out, Burned uses rhetorical questioning in order to provoke the readers’ thoughts and opinions, and Identical resorts to allegory to contrast the clashing personalities portrayed in the novel. Hopkins’ primary motive is to reveal the theme by making the reader think about the subject matter shown through these rhetorical techniques.

The foreshadowing in Impulse can reveal the ending of the novel if one were to pay enough attention to the omens. One of the more ominous warnings in the book is when Tony talks about his own vices and mentions “I saw enough people, all wound up, drop over the edge, that I guess I decided not to take that leap” (13), which directly foreshadows Conner’s decision to end his life by stepping off of a cliff face; “Suddenly it comes to me, toes tempted to test the ledge, that there is a way out of this…I screw up my courage, step over…” (653). Another instance in which Conner’s death is hinted at is after he reads his letter from his family. He is so torn by the rift between what he wants and the reality that he will never receive what he yearns for that he “fold[s] the letter into a perfect paper airplane” (635). This is very significant because after the group realizes that Conner has stepped over the edge, Tony and Vanessa go to investigate the scene; “A breeze blows up, touching my cheek like a little child’s kiss. It flutters a piece of paper, lodged in the sage…We move closer, and when I reach for it, I find a perfect paper airplane” (665-666). The paper plane takes on an almost symbolic meaning through this repeated foreshadowing, representing the cost of freedom. The other rhetorical device in Impulse is repetition. Hopkins uses the replication of words and phrases to emphasize their importance or poetic value. Words like “maybe”, “freak”, and “better” repeat themselves as Tony contemplates his mental state:

[i]Maybe I could think up a way to kill yourself with a felt pen. Maybe I could sell the idea to the dozen or so freaks in here determined to do themselves in. Maybe I’ll use it myself. Am I saying that I’m a freak? Effing A! I quit worrying about it a long time ago. Better a freak than a total loser. Better a freak than a liar (32).[i]
The meaning that gets pounded into the reader’s head is that maybe it’s better to be a freak than nothing at all, to have no meaning or purpose. Hopkins uses these techniques throughout the novel in various forms to get the reader to realize the bigger picture, the more important subject matter that gives the novel irony and depth.

Most of the foreshadowing in Burned is straightforward, but someone the novel still manages to achieve its shock value at its end. Pattyn, raised in a moral family, finds power behind the trigger of a gun. The recreational activity of target shooting was the only time when Pattyn could ever be close to her father or even slightly earn his respect; “Concentrate. Level the sight. Breathe in. Ease the trigger. And relax? BLAP! The can somersaulted across the sand. Pride swelled till I thought I’d burst” (74). The irony of the omen of authority through firearms is conveyed through Pattyn’s vengeance when she plots to murder her own father, the man who taught her how to handle a gun and granted her the opportunity to feel the power she does. Other than foreshadowing, Burned is loaded with rhetorical questions. As stated in the analysis of conflict, Pattyn is always under a shroud of doubt, questioning everything that she once shakily thought to be true, sometimes creating black humor:

Did you dream about killing someone? ‘No…’ I fixed my eyes on his. ‘…but I did dream about sex.’ Uh. Um. Well, that’s fairly normal for someone your age…‘And how does God feel about it?’ I was center stage, everyone waiting to see what came next…Uh. Um. Well, I can’t really speak for God, Pattyn…Then what, exactly, was I sitting there for? (38-39)
Pattyn’s questions become rhetorical when the other characters, or the reader, either cannot answer them or can only supply a “yes” or “no” answer. Hopkins’ use of these methods causes the reader to think about the significance of her words and the weight of the questions being asked.

Identical is unique in the way that it combines both foreshadowing and contrast in order to create rhetorical technique. A lot of this device is based off of structural diction, another stylistic technique that Hopkins uses. In order to foreshadow that Raeanne is only a figment of Kaeleigh’s mental disorder, every chapter ends and begins side by side. Through the way it is structured, the phrase that ends Raeanne’s chapter is the same phrase that begins Kaeleigh’s chapter; “Telling a secret, listen, it’s true. Want to hear, think, think, know?” (6-7), “Evil[?] isn’t born it’s created[?]” (200-201), “She/I will always be there/here” (564-564). The foreshadowing and contrast between every chapter is how Hopkins illustrates the transition from the personality of Raeanne to that of Kaeleigh, hinting at the personality disorder that splits Kaeleigh’s mind. Foreshadowing is also demonstrated through the occasional, seemingly harmless, mix-up of their names; characters will call Raeanne ‘Kaeleigh’ several times through the novel. Contrast is separately shown through how polar opposite Raeanne and Kaeleigh are. Raeanne is wild, crazy, and always looking for a good, reckless time, “In control, out of control. Sometimes they’re the same thing. The trick is knowing that, realizing it’s okay to feel out of control once in a while, as long as you’re sure you can regain the upper hand” (45), while Kaeleigh is very reserved, never wanting to get into a situation that could possibly hurt her; “Call me powerless. Yeah, I know on first glance I have it all. Looks. Money. Straight A’s. Leads. Popularity. I’m a regular princess, right? Not me…I’m not worthy of love. I wish I were” (29-30). Kaeleigh would rather be safe than sorry whereas Raeanne throws all caution to the wind, providing an explicit contrast between the twins and what they stand for. The way Ellen Hopkins uses foreshadowing and contrast separately and jointly in Identical shows her prowess as a writer and gives the reader another means by which to interpret the novel.

There was a plethora of rhetorical techniques in my three novels. While it made it easier to find what I needed to help support my theme, it brought up other techniques and styles that were embedded into the techniques I chose, which made it confusing to decide what I really wanted to write about. I found irony in several examples that I did choose, as well as black humor, symbolism, and new insight into diction. Despite this minor setback, writing about rhetorical devices helped me to notice that none of these techniques can be taken away because they all rely upon each other to make the novels what they are. Each writing technique builds upon the others, creating a very strong dynamic for analysis even through the eclectic selection of techniques. I believe Hopkins used so many of these techniques in order to craft the foundation for other methods that express and build a concrete theme.

ImageSince Ellen Hopkins is unique among other modern writers because she writes all her novels in verse, she uses a new stylistic technique that one could coin as structural diction. Structural diction is not only the power of the words themselves, but of how they are organized in a piece of literature. This technique adds a visual component that helps identify important ideas in her works and creates double imagery; the imagery produced by the words (figurative language) and the images that are created by the way the words and phrases are structured. The majority of the imagery created in these novels repeats throughout their pages, such as color, sounds, objects, and ghostly representations. These images created by structural diction carry heavy connotations that allow the reader to think about the repeated ideas that solidify the shared theme.

Impulse is rife with figurative language that plays with the reader’s sense and brings deeper meaning to the novel and its others various techniques. The images that appear on a constant basis are of ghosts and color, leading one to think of the opposition between death and life. Sentences like “She didn’t give two cents about what her lifestyle did to me. Her only son, because after one particularly ugly abortion, her body had decided it had had enough of Ma’s mistreatment and formed scar tissue…The odds of my having a sibling shrank to nil” (34) and “I hate this feeling. Like I belong somewhere else, anywhere but here, and escape lies just past the snowy window, cool and crisp as the February air…the streets beyond, bleak as the bleached bones of wilderness scaffolding my heart” (19) bring about thoughts of decay, ruin, and death because of words like “nil”, “abortion”, “mistreatment” and “scar tissue” and “snowy window”, “cool”, “crisp”, “February”, “bleak”, and “bones”. All of these words have negative figurative and literal meanings that allow these thoughts to come to the surface. The other part of structural diction lies within the formation of the sentences themselves. Throughout Impulse, words will be placed in areas of the page where they will stick out. For example, if the majority of the verses are on the left or right side of the page, the words that Hopkins wants to stand out will be on the opposite side of the page:

The thread. Wish you could turn off the questions, turn off the voices, turn off all sound. Yearn to close out the ugliness, close out the filthiness, close out all light. Long to cat away yesterday, cast away memory, cast away all jeopardy. Pray you could somehow stop the uncertainty, somehow stop the loathing, somehow stop the pain. Act on your impulse, swallow the bottle, cut a little deeper, put the gun to your chest (3-4).
In this excerpt, the majority of the writing is on the right side of the page, while the words “wish”, “yearn”, “long”, “pray”, and “act” on aligned to the left. This structure, as well as the regular weight of diction, gives these words credence above the others in the passage through the imagery they create.

The structural diction in Burned is more pronounced than in Impulse because not only do the words hold their connotations and denotations and catch the eye of the reader, but the verses in which they are contained are often formed into specific shapes that deal with the subject matter. While Pattyn talks about her love of literature and how it opened her eyes to a whole new world, the verses take the shape of bookshelves:

See, the library was my sanctuary. Through middle school, librarians were like guardian angels. Spinsterish guardian angels, with graying hair and beady eyes, magnified through reading glasses, and always ready to recommend new literary windows through with to gaze…Then I started high school, where the not-so-bookish librarian was half angel, half she-devil, so sayeth the rumor mill. I hardly cared. Ms. Rose was all I could hope I might one day be: aspen physique, new penny hair, aurora green eyes, and hands that could speak. She walked on air (5).

The words “gaze”, “angel”, “she-devil”, “rumor”, and the phrases “walked on air” and “aspen physique” in this excerpt describe the fascination Pattyn feels by glamorizing a profession that would seem dull to most, giving an almost mystical allure to being a librarian. Not only do these lines achieve this, their structure on the page, which is set up as bookshelves, relates to the subject matter that is being discussed, playing with the reader’s eye and mind. Another case of strong structural diction is when Pattyn is describes the rushed events of a particular night at home; “One thing already decided was spaghetti for dinner. Mom was waiting for the sauce, Dad has already hit the sauce, and it wasn’t tomato. Now Dad never laid a hand on us girls (not so far, anyway). I wasn’t afraid of that. But I didn’t want to disturb his demons any more than he already had. Plus, I knew he was sick of spaghetti” (59). The words “spaghetti”, “sauce”, “dinner”, and “tomato” makes the reader think of heat and warm colors like red, orange, and yellow, while words like “afraid”, “sick”, “disturb”, and “demons” bring to mind images of illness and misfortune. To enforce these images, Hopkins structures her verses like spirals falling down the page, erratic and scattered, showing how the events discussed can, and do, quickly escalate into violence and anger from Pattyn’s father.

Like the other novels, Identical successfully employs structural diction. Even though it mainly focuses on the figurative language of the words alone, there are several cases where the verses from shapes that relate to the focus of the writing within them. When Kaeleigh depicts her home as luxurious, saying that she “live[s] in a fine home, with lots of beautiful stuff—fine leather sofas and oiled teak tables and expensive artwork on walls and shelves. Of course, someone used to such things might wonder why there are no family photos anywhere. It’s almost like we’re afraid of ourselves” (10), the structural diction juxtaposes clashing images and ideas. The words used to illustrate her home conjure images of lavishness and extravagance, yet Kaeleigh goes on to explain how her family fears what they really are; disjointed and torn apart. The way this passage is structured allows the reader to better focus on the imagery that provokes thoughts of superficiality and artificial impressions. Another part of the novel that exercises this technique is when Kaeleigh contemplates love and the verse in which she does takes the shape of a heart; “Looks like love. And dear Greta so deserves love, it makes me happy to see it glowing all around her, glowing inside her, filling her up with this beautiful light. Such brilliant light must come straight from heaven, if such a place really exists. She believes it does, so for her, it’s real, and maybe that’s enough to make it so” (198). Not only does its form and structure hold meaning to the words, the words themselves make the reader ponder over the subject matter and imagery that comes to mind. “Happy”, “glowing”, “filling”, “beautiful”, and “heaven” are all words that ooze a comfort and contentment, which directly reflect the image of love that most people have. Through the structural diction in this passage, the reader is able to think about the importance of true love and the fabrication of false love, their slight similarities, and their abject differences.

A technique had to be invented for my paper that somehow combined diction and the unique way that the author arranges her novels in verse form. Surprisingly, construction and diction in Hopkins’ novels easily go together, giving birth to structural diction, which allows the reader to gain imagery through the figurative language that’s used and the imagery created by the verse arrangement. I enjoyed finding the ways in which she paints a vivid picture for her readers, which is vital in supporting and creating the other techniques that Hopkins uses. I believe her use of structural diction through concrete verse draws the reader into the novel better than it would have if written in prose. This stylistic device strengthens the theme of all three novels by enforcing the other techniques that Hopkins uses by stimulating the visual senses in both a concrete and figurative way.

Whether it is a mental hospital, a cattle ranch, a nursing home, or the protagonists’ home-lives, the setting plays a vital role in shaping the deeper understanding of each novel. The setting creates the atmosphere and tone of each story, allowing the reader to relate to what the characters are experiencing. All three novels have one place, usually home, that is unbearably abusive and cruel, and another where the characters escape to find solace or a personal revelation as to who they really are. In Impulse’s mental hospital, Tony discovers his sexuality through the company of Vanessa, who, through Tony’s love, realizes her own worth, while Conner, on the other hand, recognizes that nothing for him will change and struggles with accepting this fact. Burned’s Pattyn Von Stratten breaks away from the all-consuming restraints of an unloving and stagnant family through a final act of retribution inspired by her time away from home. Raeanne and Kaeleigh in Identical attempt to flee from their pasts through various forms of escapism, desperately trying to forget the distress of home. The double setting in all three novels provides a vital contrast that shows the characters’ growth and the novels’ theme.

In Impulse, Aspen Springs Mental Hospital is often described in a mocking way, giving it a bitter atmosphere and tone, as Conner depicts; “Aspen Springs. Redwood Room. As if this were a five-star resort, instead of a lockdown where crazies pace. Waiting” (6). While each character reacts to their captivity in a slightly different way, some with disdain and others with comfort, Conner, Tony, and Vanessa all dread visits from family and weekend trips home. Shame briefly dances in the spotlight of this fear due to their attempts at suicide, the cold, estranged, and unloving atmosphere of their homes repel them from wanting to return, making Aspen Springs the type of resort away from home Conner had mockingly described. A place where most would never wish to find themselves becomes a sanctuary for the characters, giving them an opportunity to learn about themselves and their flaws, with the exception of Conner, who fears returning home so badly that he takes his own life. However, the most radical change is displayed through Tony and Vanessa, who grow from each others’ company. Vanessa views herself as completely unlovable, but soon settles in with the possibility that she can be loved through Tony’s kindness; “Who knows what will happen between Tony and me? For now, I’ll make myself satisfied to sit beside him, believing he really loves me” (593). Tony, who has gone through life believing he was gay due to sexual acts he was forced to perform as a child and on the street in order to survive, is surprised by how Vanessa makes him feel; “Completely turned on, by a girl. The strangest thing about feeling this way is thinking I’ve never really been turned on before—by anyone” (622). Without the setting of Aspen Springs this evolution of self-realization would not have been possible. As the novel progresses to its end, all of the characters find themselves wanting to remain in the mental hospital, despite the improvements at home, fearing what will become of them when they depart and wary of family, leaving them in the tenuous and volatile balance of fate.

The safe-haven in Burned rests in the barren wastelands of eastern Nevada, where Pattyn is sent into exile by her strict Mormon family. She arrives at her Aunt Jeanette’s ranch as a form of punishment to straighten out her ‘sinful’ behavior; “No trouble out there but snakes and empty mine shafts…your mother and I want you out of here, and Jeanette was the only one who would take you” (169). However, the time spent away from home gives her the chance to learn about love and, most of all, about herself. The ranch gives her freedom, affection, and a family. Their last night together “was sorrowful, filled with frail promises that our bloom into a family would not wither with time, distance” (449). In contrast, Pattyn’s home-life is seared with alienation, abuse, and neglect, caught in the hypocrisy of what is preached and what is practiced. This setting produced a lot of doubt for Pattyn, causing her to question her faith, her convictions, and her normal teenage behavior; “Derek Colthorpe told me I’m pretty. At least I think that’s what he told me. Pretty? Me?” (111), “Is it a woman’s role to keep silent when her husband hits her?” (136), “No talk of love. Can ‘love and obey’ possibly go together?” (140). Though she strives for the love of her father and the sympathy of her mother, Pattyn never receives it. At her aunt’s ranch, however, when Pattyn reaches out for these things she obtains them with open arms, a privilege that she’s been denied her whole life, a privilege short-lived when her family opts to cage that freedom.

Twins Raeanne and Kaeleigh of Identical escape the sexual abuse of their father and the cold ignorance of their mother through completely different outlets. Raeanne escapes through drugs and sex, all the while craving a perverse affection from her own father; “Kaeleigh closes herself off from Daddy. And I think she’s completely insane. I crave his affection. No one, no one normal, that is, will understand” (19). Kaeleigh flees by spending most of her time at a Lutheran nursing home with an elderly lady, escaping through Greta’s stories; “[My friends] think old people are lame. But they’re not. They’re awesome…they’ve lived entire lifetimes. Loved. Laughed. Surrendered. Stumbled. Weathered, beaten, still they don’t crumble, not even as they inch toward death” (47). Though their channels for their trauma are dramatically different, both allow the twins to grow to know themselves better and break away from the secretive suffering of their home; “No one else suspects…No one suspects Mom’s real motive for running for Congress is to run away from us, or how…it has affected my father…begging me to open arms, let me stay, and please, please love him the way Mom used to” (18). The wayward, false love that is showered upon the twins drives them to places where addiction and death linger, but without these outlets Raeanne and Kaeleigh would never come to realize who ‘they’ really are.

To escape a setting of agony and torment at home, the characters of all three novels find refuge in places that are often viewed as eerie, desolate, or filled with the ghostly presence of death. Family is supposed to be a comfort, an asylum to flee to when hard times rain down like hail, not a bane or danger to one’s dignity or safety. Conner, Tony, and Vanessa prefer a mental hospital over the war-zones that are their homes. Pattyn cannot find love or understanding from a mother and father so attached to religious creed that they would forsake their own child, so she searches for approval in the wastelands of Nevada. Raeanne and Kaeleigh can’t cope with the rejection of their mother constantly turning a blind-eye from the twisted desires of their “Daddy”, urging them to turn towards other means of affection. Without the importance and allegory placed on setting, I don’t believe that the atmosphere and tone of the novel would not have been conveyed as fluidly as it is.

Conflict is vital for any work of literature. This is no exception for Hopkins’ novels, which have many underlying conflicts throughout their pages. The primary struggle in Impulse is character versus self, where each character fights with their personal demons and mental impasses. In Burned, Pattyn is burdened by the conflict of character versus society, which oppresses her, giving her the fuel to want to break free of its constraints. The internal versus external conflict in Identical is the most intricate of all the novels because it leaves room for one of the characters to lie and distort the entire story. These broad categories of conflict are the skeleton for other intricate and specific struggles in each story. The author’s use of internal conflict is central to unveiling the theme because not only does it unearth other writing techniques, it blatantly reveals how each struggle affects the character suffering through it.

Impulse is a novel rife with conflicts. There are three separate characters to sort through, and all of them conceal their darkest secrets from the reader, secrets that share a common link that bonds them closer together. Conner faces his own doubts and fears that are fueled by his overly-driven parents, who live vicariously through him, a relationship he had with a woman twice his age, and the sexual abuse he experienced at the hands of his family’s maid, Leona, whose death he blames himself for:

When I found out she had another boyfriend—a real, grown-up boyfriend—I threatened to tell my mother everything. Please don’t tell, she begged. I’ll never find another position…I made up my mind to tell her boyfriend instead. He caused an intense scene in our kitchen. As Leona stormed off, she said, One day you’ll have the sense to know what you’ve done. She sped away, and into a brick wall. I didn’t cry when I heard she was dead…I’d like to cry now. Don’t know how (601-602)

Conner tries in vain to solve these problems by ending his own life, first by shooting a failed bullet to his chest, “I decided a shot through the heart would make it stop beating, rip it apart to bleed me out. I couldn’t even do that right. The bullet hit bone, left my heart in one piece” (8), and eventually succeeding by stepping over the edge of a cliff. For Conner, his conflict was too overwhelming. He couldn’t see a way out of it so he resolved it the only way he knew how; by not having to deal with it at all. The other characters come head-to-head with their troubles. Tony reveals the sexual abuse he suffered as a child from his mother’s boyfriend, Larry, and after Tony accepts this he is able to come to terms with himself and the demon behind his behavior, “I killed someone once…But I didn’t love him. I hated him with a passion. [I lost my] virginity when I was eight and I lost it to Larry. I told you that I hurt him pretty bad. Truth is, I killed his sorry ass” (603). This confession allows him to heal. Initially, Vanessa claims that her mother’s schizophrenic mood swings affected her enough to spur her self-injury and attempt at suicide:

The first cut wasn’t the deepest. No, not at all. It was like the others, a subtle rend of anxious skin, a gentle pulse of crimson, just enough to hush the demons shrieking inside my brain. But this time they wouldn’t shut up. Just kept on howling, like Mama, when she was in a bad way. Worst thing was, the older I got, the more I began to see how much I resembled Mama, falling in and out of the blue, then lifting up into the white. That day I actually thought about howling. So I gave myself to the knife, asked it to bite a little harder, chew a little deeper…I couldn’t stop there (21).

ImageWhile her words may hold some truth, Vanessa goes throughout the novel claiming that this is the only reason behind her actions; the constant shifting from the “blue” and the “white”. It is only revealed to the reader near the end of the novel that Vanessa was urged by a boyfriend to get an abortion; “He wouldn’t help pay for it, wouldn’t even hold my hand while I waited to do that god-awful thing. I went alone, except for the baby inside me. It may sound odd, but I did love that little blob. Still, I made it die. And when I think about it, my insides hurt” (600). The internal conflict of character versus self brings out the best and the worst in each of the characters in Impulse. For Conner, Tony, and Vanessa, the horrid act of murder, committed in various or unintentional ways, and the experience of death connect each of their conflicts and bring them closer.

While the character versus society conflict in Burned may seem like it would have more to do with the external activities in the novel, the main focus is on the protagonist’s thoughts and how she deals with the limitations and expectations of her society, making it an internal battle. The root of Pattyn’s struggle is with her family’s morals, a struggle roused by her escape through literature:

I began to see the world at large through borrowed eyes, eyes more like those I wanted to own. Hopeful. I began…to question my little piece of the planet. Empowered…I began to realize that escape might offer the only real hope of freedom from my supposed God-given roles—wife and mother of as many babies as my body could bear. Emboldened (10-11)

Everyone has an awakening at one point in their lives where they realize that their value-system is different from that of their parents, but for Pattyn it radically changes her life because her family does not accept this awareness. They instead try to smother and cage her, hoping to squeeze this arousal for new life out of her by constantly reminding her that she is only a woman and all she can amount to is a mother; “Pattyn…it’s a woman’s role. I decided that if it was my role, I’d rather disappear. In my view, having babies was supposed to be something beautiful, not a duty. Something incredible, not role-playing” (24-25). The impact of Pattyn’s society conflicting with her newfound views causes her to question everything she once believed to be solidly true; her faith, her chastity, and the true meaning of right and wrong. The conflict progresses with every page until the reader can clearly see that Pattyn is a different person, a different woman, after returning from her Aunt Jeanette’s ranch, but the setting of home resurfaces conflicts that she believed to have conquered, only to discover that they’d become worse. “The only thing I was sorry about was coming home in the first place…I could barely swallow through the puffing finger marks around my neck. I could barely taste, beyond the bulging of my tongue, the coppery flavor of blood, crusting my gums” (494). What had begun as verbal abuse before she left grew into violent physical abuse. The danger of her situation becomes dire when Pattyn discovers that she’s pregnant. Fearing for her life, Pattyn runs away with Ethan, the man she loves, only to get into a terrible car accident killing both Ethan and her baby. Enraged, wounded, and despondent, Pattyn plans for the ultimate retribution to be rid of her conflict:

See, as far as I’m concerned, my life is over. My one forever love has been snatched away, condemned by my own father’s rules to die, just because he loved me. I am without a home, without a single person to love. And after having discovered love, lived for a short while surrounded by love, that is too much to bear. I am a pariah at church, at school…they should die. All of them. Dad. Bishop Crandall. Trevor, Becca, Emily. With the pull of a 10mm hair trigger, their lives will end at sacrament meeting. Such lovely irony!...Heart breaking, I think that if Dad, staring down the sight of a 10mm, would only tell me he loves me, I could easily change my mind…but he won’t (528-532).
Pattyn’s plan for murderous revenge is the only way, in her mind, to resolve her conflicts. She is too blinded by the pain of lose and the fire of rage to see any other alternative than killing off those who have ruined her life. This dramatic, yet ironic, ending leaves open to question whether Pattyn fell to or rose above her struggle with her societal oppression.

The closest that one can name Identical’s conflict is internal versus external, but the main, convoluted clash is between what is believed and what is real. Throughout the novel the reader is lead to believe that Raeanne and Kaeleigh Gardella are both alive and well, not considering the twisted sexual abuse and neglect that takes place behind the white picket fence of their home. In reality, Raeanne died in a terrible car accident. The trauma of the event caused Kaeleigh’s mind to split, forming another personality, that of her dead sister, Raeanne, who often takes over in times where Kaeleigh would otherwise falter. This eerie, creepy alternative personality takes over Kaeleigh’s life for some period of time, influencing her decisions and making her do things that she naturally wouldn’t contemplate; “I have no real right to play stand-in for Kaeleigh, but she wouldn’t have the nerve to do what needs to be done anyway. Sorry, twin o’ mine, but it’s true” (171). This puppet-master behavior slowly begins to deteriorate Kaeleigh’s life and reputation, causing confusion and torn relationships; “Frigid. His term or Ian’s (her boyfriend)? It’s going to bug me all day. I always thought Ian was on my side, that he understood, if not everything, that I am only lukewarm because I’m damaged. Frigid? Maybe I am. But why should it even be a topic of conversation with Shaun? Did Ian call me that? And did he really say I’m into other guys?” (227). On the verge of losing everything she has, Kaeleigh is brought to medical attention just in time and is sent to a hospital for evaluation, where she is diagnosed with D.I.D., Dissociative Identity Disorder. Kaeleigh gets medical help for her mental condition and life temporarily goes back to normal until the very ending when Raeanne warns that “I’ll be watching her. Watching out for her. And if the time comes she needs complete escape, I will walk for her. Talk for her. Take punishment in her place. Some things don’t need to be remembered” (565). The haunting presence of Raeanne is a struggle that will not ebb with time for Kaeleigh, however, how she deals with Raeanne’s company will determine if she overcomes her conflict or not.

I find that Hopkins’ use of conflict in Impulse, Burned, and Identical clearly helps to convey the connected theme, builds upon the settings, and reveals other techniques that are essential to the novels. It was easy for me to point out the conflicts and dig into each characters’ motives behind their actions because I felt very connected to them while reading. However, while I believe that these novels would be superficial without the way conflict is used, it begins to get redundant and tiresome hearing almost the exact same struggles over and over again, especially considering that all the characters deal with related crises. With Impulse it became difficult to express how Conner, Tony, and Vanessa’s conflicts were similar yet different, but without doing so the rest of the story would be stagnant and have no meaning as to why more than one character was used. Burned and Identical were easier to dig into because of the difficulty of Impulse. They also gave me more insight as to what I should be looking for in Impulse, allowing me to realize that their fates depend on whether they rise above or fall to their vices. The way in which the characters react to the conflict determines their nature and individuality, measuring whether they can be trusted or if they tend to distort and lie, which is crucial to finding the deeper meaning of these three works.

All of Hopkins’ novels are strongly character-driven, with the plot unfolding through their choices and actions, making characterization a very important technique in everything she writes. The author writes her characters’ descriptions in a very indirect way, leaving it up to the reader to gain insight through their actions, thoughts, and words. The way in which the characters are presented makes them seem very well-rounded and alive due to their flaws and conflicts that they have to overcome. By delving into the motivations behind her characters’ choices, Hopkins reveals the theme of her novels.
As in all of the novels, the characters in Impulse are incredibly flawed and damaged. Conner reveals himself to be from a very wealthy and prudent family, always striving for the next best thing:

I reach for a lavender Ralph Lauren shirt, ironed into submission, collar starched into crisp, straight Vs, no hint of dirt or sweat. Back at school, clothes like this made me the cream of my senior class, at least in the eyes of twisted dream girls and cheerleaders. Oh yes, Mom’s expensive tastes went a long way toward getting me laid. Did she have a clue that all those dollars spent on haute couture allowed her sweet young son to feed his appetite for carnal please—to divvy himself among a stable of fillies? As the vile green walls defy my stare, some evil makes me want wad Lauren shirt and Jockey underwear into a wrinkled lump…I’ll just keep jamming clothes into drawers, grinning (27-28).

Not only does this passage show Conner to be living a life most would consider luxurious, it shows his complete and utter disdain for it. By wrinkling and crumpling his pricey, ironed clothes into a messy heap, he is forsaking everything they stand for. But this also shows that he’s willing to use what he’s given to his advantage, and potentially use others; when he states that he used his expensive clothing to become popular and get laid. Conner’s character continues to develop even more as the novel plays out, eventually allowing the reader to realize just how lost and confused he is, especially with the topic of love; “Love and I are like water and oil. Put the two together, blend well, and you get Quaker State quicksand. I don’t really have a clue what love is…all I really understood was sex. Sex and love, I’ve discovered, are not the same thing. Life is so complex! Sex. Love. Athletics. Academics. My belief in all of those things is completely shaken” (597). Conner shows himself to have a shaky foundation on most things, especially the importance of his own life, which he eventually ends, an action that, in itself, sheds more light on his character. Where Conner was lost and somewhat conceited, Tony proves himself to be sure in his convictions and down-to-earth. The trauma he suffers makes him a very clear-cut guy when talking about his vices, holding nothing back from the reader; “We were talking drugs. I won’t tell you I never tried crystal, but it really wasn’t my thing…I always preferred creeping into a giant, deep hole where no bad feelings could follow…I tumbled real low, took a ride on the H train. Oh yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. A hot shot clear to hell” (14). This shows Tony to be a very open person who is not afraid to express his feelings or share his vices. His practical personality reveals itself even when he asked his opinions on certain issues, as Conner observes; “He puts his words on paper will; writes with clarity and passion; is not afraid to tell us how he feels: Freedom is a double-edged idea, because true freedom comes without the protection of laws that also enslave us by defining us—female, male; Christian, Islamic; good, evil. All at the whim of a frail minority” (226). His realistic and sensible qualities allow him to express such ideas without hesitation or speed-bump. Though Tony’s character grows throughout the novel, he never loses himself along the way, which shows just how strong of a person he is. Vanessa is a rather quiet personality as far as characters go. Hopkins doesn’t write her with any real exuberance or enthusiasm. Instead, Vanessa is portrayed as very reserved and thoughtful, preferring to keep her troubles to herself and observe the other patients in the hospital:

I wound up here with my left hand neatly stitched back in place. They tell me it will be good as new, but my fingers feel like they belong to someone else and don’t want to be attached to me. Nothing does. I’ve been here about a week, I think, watching it snow and listening through the walls to other girls, sicker than I am. They talk about themselves, about the things they’ve done, the things they’d like to do. Parents. Teachers. Counselors. So-called friends. They’d all better run when those sociopaths find their way back outside (37).
Though Vanessa’s character mainly serves as a foil, this tells the reader a lot about her, as well, confirming her hushed and attentive personality. All three of the characters in Impulse watch the behavior and actions of each other, giving the reader a second form of insight in recognizing characterization.

Burned’s Pattyn is a very needy, wishful character. The way Pattyn uses literature to escape from reality depicts her as a dreamer, as a person longing for something more out of life. While this is a very common experience for anyone, Pattyn begins to yearn so badly for love and affection that she begins to look for love in all the wrong places:

I’d like to tell you I’d fallen head over heels in love with Derek (her boyfriend). I did feel something, but it wasn’t the hearts and flowers kind of love in my dog-eared books. Looking back, it seems I should have been in love with him. We did all the things two people in love were supposed to. Maybe more. I wanted to be with him all the time, wanted the taste of his lips on mine, his roaming fingers on my hungry skin. His fire to thaw my ice. But, though I was very much in lust with him, I knew from the start we were nothing like “forever.” Maybe because forever is such a scary place (125-126).

It is no surprise to the reader that this relationship does not last. Pattyn’s character is written in a very naïve sort of way, which is odd, considering her circumstances; one would think her situation would make her more aware of the cruelty of the “real world”. The only time she seems to realize the desperateness of her situation is when she becomes pregnant with “the love of her life’s” baby, causing her to elope with him:

Somehow I made it through the next day, and when I saw Ethan’s Dodge turn into the parking lot, I ran, almost slipping on the ice. I flew through the door, into his arms, and the warmth of his kisses. As we drove off, I noticed Trevor, standing there watching. What I did see was him taking down Ethan’s license plate number. Rather than waste time driving to Reno to reach the interstate, Ethan chose the more treacherous route over the mountain, into California. The highway had been plowed, but not well, and even in four-wheel drive, the tires spun a bit on the steeper stretches of icy pavement. Suddenly, Ethan swore. I turned to see red and blue lights coming up quickly behind us. “Don’t stop!” I commanded. Instead, Ethan picked up speed, a bad thing to do in those conditions. My heart raced as we went sideways around a curve. Ethan corrected it, the Dakota skidded sideways. He turned into the skid, but too hard. Hold on! He shouted. It was the last thing I ever heard him say (519-521).

Pattyn is so easily swayed by the thought of love, so in love with the idea of love, that she even tries to escape the confines of her controlling family at the brink of turning eighteen in order to feel it. Hopkins uses Pattyn’s obvious attempts to find love to show the reader just how wishful and juvenile she really is.

Identical is unique among the three novels because one of the main characters, Raeanne, is a figment of the other’s, Kaeleigh’s, mind. Hopkins uses Raeanne as a foil character to emphasize Kaeleigh’s true personality and her Dissociative Identity Disorder. Where Kaeleigh is quiet and passive, Raeanne is loud and in-your-face, as shown in a confrontation between her and another girl at school:

Madison happens to be a total mainstream jock. Softball team. Swim team. Golf team. If it means creaming an opponent, she’s all over it. Could be why she’s hustling Mick (Raeanne’s boyfriend) now. When he was up for grabs, she couldn’t care less about scratching his figurative itch. All it took was his hooking up with me, and out came her stubby claws. Well, mine are a whole lot sharper, though she doesn’t seem to realize it. Just wait til I dig them into that sun-toughened jockette hide. Then it won’t matter if I can’t scream; she’ll scream loud enough for both of us, and I do look forward to that. Ooh. Was that mean? Maybe. But hey, I’m sick and tired of playing passive. No, I’ll leave that to Kaeleigh (38-40).

The personality of Raeanne is intense and often confrontational. Raeanne is not afraid to get what she wants. Kaeleigh, on the other hand, is often reserved and secretly impulsive, often binging on food or pills or indulging in cutting; “My normal M.O. after Ian leaves me alone is to run to the refrigerator, empty most of it onto a plate and smother every feeling I have. Like an automaton, I go into the kitchen, open the fridge, peek inside…then there’s no pain, no loneliness. Every demon is fast asleep” (285), “I wait for the bell to ring, picking at a scab or two…It’s like milking venom from my veins. Wonder how long it would take to bleed out completely” (402), “It’s frightening how much I just want to drown in this undertow of booze and pills. I drank a lot tonight, ingested an incomprehensible amount of painkillers” (481). Through the actions of Raeanne and Kaeleigh’s own behavior, Hopkins is able to create and build upon Kaeleigh’s character.

Hopkins’ character-driven novels easily catch the heart of their readers through characterization. Getting to know the characters and how they are developed through their choices, thoughts, and words is a key element in creating theme. The author composes her stories in a way that made it easier for me to figure what was essential to the novels themselves. Discovering these essential traits supported my other techniques as well as my theme. I don’t think these novels would work as well if characterization was expressed in a direct, on the surface way. It was necessary for Hopkins to let the characters reveal themselves to the reader in such a natural way in order for them to feel realistic. This realism makes the theme of the novels more believable and true to heart.

One of the most significant narrative techniques that Hopkins employs is her use of motif, which, in literature, is the repetition of important symbols or ideas. The motif of abuse is cast an essential role in all three novels and manifests itself in many different forms; physical, emotional, sexual, and neglectful. In Impulse this motif is shown in a mixture of ways, while Burned focuses on the physical and Identical on the sexual aspects of abuse. The affect of the abuse on the characters is reveals how their environment and conflict has shaped them into who they are. This particular motif vibrantly expresses the theme that that in a ruthless and unloving environment emerge those bold enough to survive in a harsh and loveless world.

In Impulse, abuse is shown in two ways; sexual and emotional. Conner often expresses his disdain for his mother, who only seems to care about reputation and appearance. She often compares Conner with his twin sister, Cara, and focuses more on his achievements than his feelings, as expressed in a letter to him:

Conner: Hope all is going well for you, and that your time in the outback has kept you fit. You must excel at your football tryouts. They expect you to fail. I’m sure, however, you’ll prove them wrong. One small detail, which I’ll mention here: you have some makeup work to do to keep you on track for early graduation. If you pursue it diligently this summer, you won’t have to play catch-up in the fall. By the way, your father and I have sent applications to all the colleges on our list. All you have to do is maintain your GPA and, of course, score well on your entrance exams. Not really much more to say except to let you know Cara has already been accepted at Stanford. You can do as well. After all, you’re her twin. Mom (632).

There’s no “Dear Conner” or “Love, Mom” in this passage, showing just how severe her neglect of her son is. Conner’s parents have such high expectations for their son that they don’t even consider his preferences in schools and just apply for the ones they want him to go to. These expectations and sibling comparisons are constant when Conner mentions his home-life, revealing the importance of the emotional and negligent abuse that is inflicted by his family’s icy detachment. For Tony, it is the absence of his family that leaves him open to the abuse of his mother’s boyfriend; “Ma…never even acknowledged that the whole thing happened. Larry is a decent man, she said, when I told her about it the first time. A bit rough around the edges, yes, but he’d never do such a thing, little liar. Like an eight-year-old child could make up something so evil and perverse” (103-104). The lust-fueled ignorance of Tony’s mother causes her to disregard his needs, making him vulnerable to such sick abuse. The trauma he suffers changes his entire life, leading him down paths that no person should ever have to tread and experience homelessness, sexual confusion, and drug addiction. Vanessa endures severe emotional doubt and abuse from several different sources; her mother’s mental illness, her father’s absence , and the abortion that a boyfriend forces her to go through. It is the fear that she will end up like her mother, so mentally ill that she becomes catatonic and violent, that troubles her the most:

The truth is, she was a total psycho some of the time. When Byran (her younger brother) was a baby, I was afraid to leave him alone with Mama. One time I came home from school and he was screaming. Mama had him in the kitchen sink, giving him a bath. The water was way too hot. I yanked him from her hands, his baby skin all red and steaming. I have to scrub away his sin…Jesus expects it. A baby has no sin…I asked my grandmother to step in for that, and the fact that Mama beat me for ‘arguing with the will of the Lord.’ I didn’t think much of the Lord for a very long time (487-488).

The blatant physical and mental abuse of this disconcerting incident sets the reader’s teeth on edge for multiple reasons. No one likes to hear or read about a child, or anyone, being abused in such a way, and to hear a mother justify her actions through God is deeply disturbing. However without the twisted abuse of the situations, and that of the others in this novel, it wouldn’t be worth reading.

The abuse in Burned is physical with severe emotional consequences. Pattyn’s father is so haunted by his own demons that he resorts to drowning them in strong whiskey, anything to numb the pain of loss:

As I approached the shed, I heard his voice, thick as caramel on his tongue. Leave me alone. I can’t help you now. Part of me wanted to run. Part of me had to listen. Goddammit, Molly, go away. Please. Molly. His first wife. The true love of his life. I miss Dwight too, you know I do. Dwight, who carried soldier in his genes. I couldn’t tell him no to go, could I? Their first son, killed in a firefight in Somalia. What’s that? Forget Douglas, the friggin’ fag. Their second son, until he came out of the closet. No son of mine will take it from another man. So he told him to never show his face nearby again. But you didn’t have to do what you did! One son dead, the other shunned, Molly folded. Don’t you know how much I miss you? Put a .357 into her mouth, pulled the trigger. Oh God, Molly, please stop crying (50-51).

Her father’s demons spur all of the violence in Burned by fueling his addition to alcohol, which makes him extremely violent and volatile. His whiskey-fueled rages are taken out on Pattyn, her mother, and her younger siblings, creating a house filled with terror and anxiety:

That night Dad staggered in, eyes eerily lit. The corners of his mouth foaming spit. His demons planned on an overnight stay. Mom motioned to take the girls away, hide them in their rooms, safe in their beds. We closed the doors, covered our heads, as if blankets could mute the sounds of his blows or we could silence her screams beneath our pillows. I hugged the littlest ones close to my chest, till the beat of my heart lulled them to rest. Only then did I let myself cry. Only then did I let myself wonder why Mom didn’t fight back, didn’t defend, didn’t confess to family or friend. Had Dad’s demons claimed her soul? Or was this, as well, a woman’s role? (64)

This deeply disturbing scene is like a panorama from our deepest nightmares, yet Pattyn has to live through this day-in and day-out. The physical abuse she suffers brings doubts to her mind and drives her to find love away from home, a place that is supposed to harbor love. Yet, without the trauma she goes through, Pattyn would never grow the courage to stand up to her father and the society that suppresses her.

As in Impulse and Burned, the motif of abuse in Identical has direct emotional consequences for the characters. The perversion in this novel is the most twisted in my opinion because of the sexual advances of the father towards his own daughter; “That first night he just held her, kissed her. Breathed Wild Turkey all over her until they both fell asleep, woven together…What came later belies the purity of that first night…I watched the two of them dozing, father and mother/daughter until I was thinking about Daddy kissing Kaeleigh, craving his kiss, understanding its significance” (65-66). Kaeleigh becomes so traumatized by the sexual exploitation from her own father that her mind splits, forming an alternate personality, that of the twin sister she lost in a tragic car accident. Kaeleigh, as scarred as she is, doesn’t realize this until the very end through a conversation with Ian, her boyfriend, after so many relationships have been torn to shreds by her destructive alter, Raeanne:

Kaeleigh. What are you doing here, with him? You promised me. Promised? What did I promise? I shake my head. Kaeleigh promised, not me. ‘N-not Kaeleigh.’…Who are you then? I’m…I look at him, so full of love for me. Me. Am I Kaeleigh? No. Goddammit. I’m, ‘Raeanne.’ No, no, no!...Raeanne is dead Kaeleigh. She died in the accident, remember? What is he talking about? I’m not dead. I’m right here…wait, what did he say about an accident? Yes, yes, there was an accident. Daddy was driving and they took Mom and Raeanne away. Didn’t take me away. Raeanne. My sister. My identical twin. I called out to her. She didn’t answer. Mom came back. Raeanne didn’t (519-520).

This scene eerily reveals the amount of damage that abuse has caused in Kaeleigh’s life, so much damage that her own mind began to retreat from situations that could possibly harm her more. While it is tragic that Kaeleigh had to suffer so much at such a young age, without the abuse there would be no conflict or meaning to the plot.

The motif of abuse runs rampant in these three novels. Conner wants his parents’ approval so badly that he lets his parents boss him around. Tony vows to become a better person and overcome his drug addiction for the sake of his connection with Vanessa, who wants to fight the mental illness she has because of the love she holds for Tony and her family. Pattyn so badly yearns for everything to be peaceful in her and her siblings’ lives that she plots to murder her own father. Kaeleigh and Raeanne endure the perverse, sexual advances of their father in order to feel loved by him. While it may seem depressing to read something so lacking of love or happiness, it brings about a sense of victory to see the characters overcome their troubles, or a sense of defeat if they succumb to them. This tenuous thread between success and failure, even the conflict itself, would not exist if not for this motif. By the time I started reading Identical, I was getting tired of reading the tragic tales of Hopkins’ victimized characters. I’ve read other novels by her and they all have the same set-up; a character flawed by their life at home and the abuse they’ve suffered excuses their actions, leading them to either fail or succeed in conquering their demons. Conner, Tony, Vanessa, Pattyn, Kaeleigh, and Raeanne’s abusive situations are all connected in that they give them personality and conflict. But, while reading, I kept thinking that, for once, I’d like Hopkins to write a character that has no motive for their actions, that simply does what he or she wants because they can. But the slavery of abuse-fueled vices and desires seems to be a motif that Hopkins won’t change, and I’ll admit that it works well, not only as a way to draw the reader in, but in directing them towards the theme of her works.

Ellen Hopkins has won many awards for her unique novels, spinning tales of disaster, humor, and shock with each work. The narrative and stylistic techniques that Hopkins uses in all three of her novels are vital for the reader to unveil the deeper meaning of her works. Through setting, conflict, motif, characterization, rhetorical devices, and structural diction, Hopkins expresses a shared theme in her novels Impulse, Burned, and Identical that in a cruel and loveless atmosphere emerge those dauntless enough to survive in a harsh and unloving world.

Latest reviews