Mood & Tone
Mood is the feeling that the author
intends to create in the reader.
Tone is the author’s attitude toward the
subject or audience of the story.
Moods Can Be Positive or Negative
Hopeful
Cheerful
Joyous
Playful
Peaceful
Gloomy
Violent
Tense
Heartbroken
Painful
We Also See Mood in Images
• What mood does this image create?
• What mood does this image create?
• What mood does this image create?
We Can See Mood in Movie Scenes
• What mood is created in this scene?
How Does a Writer Create Mood?
The setting, use of descriptive words &
figurative language, the punctuation
used, and the sound or connotation of
words all work to create the mood of a
story.
Tone
• While mood is the feeling that a story
creates in a reader, tone is the
writer’s attitude toward the subject or
audience of the story.
• Look for clues in the language the
writer uses to identify how the writer
feels about the subject.
“The Fall of the House of Usher” by Edgar Allan Poe
During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn
of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens,
I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly
dreary tract of country; and at length found myself, as the shades
of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of
Usher. I know not how it was --but, with the first glimpse of the
building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit. I looked
upon the scene before me --upon the mere house, and the simple
landscape features of the domain --upon the bleak walls --upon the
vacant eye-like windows --upon a few rank sedges --and upon a
few white trunks of decayed trees --with an utter depression of soul
which I can compare to no earthly sensation. What was it --I
paused to think --what was it that so unnerved me in the
contemplation of the House of Usher?
Subject:
Author:
Narrator:
Are they the same?
Animal Farm by George Orwell
A little way down the pasture there was a knoll that commanded a
view of most of the farm. The animals rushed to the top of it and
gazed round them in the clear morning light. Yes, it was theirs—
everything that they could see was theirs! In the ecstasy of that
thought they gamboled round and round, they hurled themselves
into the air in great leaps of excitement. They rolled in the dew,
they cropped mouthfuls of the sweet summer grass, they kicked up
clods of the black earth and snuffed its rich scent. It was as though
they had never seen these things before, and even now they could
hardly believe that it was all their own.
Subject:
Author:
Speaker:
Are they the same?
“Buffalo Dusk” by Carl Sandburg
The buffaloes are gone.
And those who saw the buffaloes are gone.
Those who saw the buffaloes by thousands and
how they pawed the prairie sod into dust with their
hoofs, their great heads down pawing on in a
great pageant of dusk,
Those who saw the buffaloes are gone.
And the buffaloes are gone.
Subject:
Author:
Speaker:
Are they the same?
Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse
The Buddha went quietly on his way, lost in thought. His
peaceful countenance was neither happy nor sad. He
seemed to be smiling gently inwardly. With a secret smile,
not unlike that of a healthy child, he walked along,
peacefully, quietly. He wore his gown and walked along
exactly like the other monks, but his face and his step, his
peaceful downward glance, his peaceful downward-hanging
hand, and every finger of his hand spoke of peace, spoke of
completeness, sought nothing, imitated nothing, reflected a
continuous quiet, and unfading light, an invulnerable peace.
Subject:
Author:
Speaker:
Are they the same?
“The Yellow Wallpaper” by Charlotte Perkins
Gilman
I never saw a worse paper in my life. One of those sprawling
flamboyant patterns committing every artistic sin. It is dull
enough to confuse the eye in following, pronounced enough to
constantly irritate and provoke study, and when you follow the
lame uncertain curves for a little distance they suddenly
commit suicide--plunge off at outrageous angles, destroy
themselves in unheard of contradictions. The color is
repellent, almost revolting; a smouldering unclean yellow,
strangely faded by the slow-turning sunlight. It is a dull yet
lurid orange in some places, a sickly sulphur tint in others.
Subject:
Author:
Speaker:
Are they the same?
Why are Mood and Tone Important?
Mood and tone are important
because they help the reader to
determine the author’s purpose and
the overall theme or main idea of
the story.
What is an
author’s
tone?
Tone:
Often an
author's tone is
described by adjectives,
such as: cynical,
depressed, sympathetic,
cheerful, outraged,
positive, angry,
sarcastic, prayerful,
ironic, solemn,
vindictive, intense,
excited.
Tone is not an action.
It is an attitude.
Real-life Example
You can say the same phrase in different ways, each
showing a different attitude
or tone.
Try saying, “Come here, Sam” using the following
tones:
•Commanding or bossy
•Secretive
•Loving
•Angry
•Excited
•Playful
Tone is not explained
or expressed directly.
Therefore, a reader must
“read between the lines”
to feel the author’s attitude
and identify the tone.
Tone is the author’s own attitude
toward the subject.
Mood is the emotion the author
wants the readers to feel while
reading about the subject.
Author’s Tone
leads
to
Story’s Atmosphere
& Mood
Example:
An author writes a horror story
using a serious and sinister tone.
That tone helps create a scary
atmosphere and a nervous,
frightened mood for the readers.
Another Example:
An author writes a satire, making
fun of a horror story using a
playful or sarcastic tone.
That playful tone helps create a
humorous mood for the readers.
Literary Examples
of Author’s Tones…
Serious / Solemn
“The girl remembered little from the
raid at Okeadan in which she had been
captured. She knew her parents had
been killed. She had no idea what had
happened to her brothers and sisters.
Much of what she had experienced had
been so horrible that she had simply
shut it out of her mind. . . .”
At Her Majesty’s Request
p. 17
Serious / Solemn
“The girl remembered little from the raid
at Okeadan in which she had been
captured. She knew her parents had
been killed. She had no idea what had
happened to her brothers and sisters.
Much of what she had experienced had
been so horrible that she had simply
shut it out of her mind. . . .”
At Her Majesty’s Request
p. 17
Sarcastic
“Just look at the Titanic. The captain said,
‘Even God can’t sink this ship.’ Then, on the
first voyage across the Atlantic Ocean, boom,
it hit an iceberg and sank. And as soon as a
daredevil utters the words ‘piece of cake’
before attempting a stunt, he is doomed.
‘Piece of cake’ becomes his ‘famous last
words.’ …”
My Brother’s Arm p. 111-2
Sarcastic
“Just look at the Titanic. The captain said,
‘Even God can’t sink this ship.’ Then, on the
first voyage across the Atlantic Ocean, boom,
it hit an iceberg and sank. And as soon as a
daredevil utters the words ‘piece of cake’
before attempting a stunt, he is doomed.
‘Piece of cake’ becomes his ‘famous last
words.’ …”
My Brother’s Arm p. 111-2
Enthusiastic
“ . . . the next minute, Winn-Dixie looked like a
furry bullet, shooting across the building,
chasing that mouse. He was barking and his
feet were skidding all over the polished Pick-ItQuick floor, and people were clapping and
hollering and pointing. They really went wild
when Winn-Dixie actually caught the mouse.”
Because of Winn-Dixie
p. 36
Enthusiastic
“ . . . the next minute, Winn-Dixie looked like a
furry bullet, shooting across the building,
chasing that mouse. He was barking and his
feet were skidding all over the polished Pick-ItQuick floor, and people were clapping and
hollering and pointing. They really went wild
when Winn-Dixie actually caught the mouse.”
Because of Winn-Dixie
p. 36
Hostile / Angry
“Dana grinned malevolently. His teeth were
nubby and yellow, like an old barn dog’s.
Kneeling on Roy’s chest, he hauled back
to hit him again.”
Hoot
p. 184
Hostile / Angry
“Dana grinned malevolently. His teeth were
nubby and yellow, like an old barn dog’s.
Kneeling on Roy’s chest, he hauled back
to hit him again.”
Hoot
p. 184
“We’d gone a quarter mile
down the trail when we ran
into a man walking the wrong
way. He had a pack on his
back – a full, towering,
overstuffed pack – and he
was sweating hard. His
breath sounded like a
bellows. I stepped aside to
let him pass. I stared. I knew
that he was one of the ones
who hadn’t made it, who’d
quit right there at
the start.”
Halfway to the Sky p. 32
Disapproving
“We’d gone a quarter mile
down the trail when we ran
into a man walking the wrong
way. He had a pack on his
back – a full, towering,
overstuffed pack – and he
was sweating hard. His
breath sounded like a
bellows. I stepped aside to
let him pass. I stared. I knew
that he was one of the ones
who hadn’t made it, who’d
quit right there at
the start.”
Halfway to the Sky p. 32
Disapproving
PERSONAL
Personal
“I feel alive for the first time in years,” said Faber. “I
feel
I’m doing
I should’ve
done
“I feel
alivewhat
for the
first time
ina lifetime ago.
For a little while I’m not afraid. Maybe it’s because
years,” said Faber. “I feel I’m doing
I’m doing the right thing at last.. . . . “
what I should’ve done a lifetime
ago.
Fahrenheit 451 p. 131
For a little while I’m not afraid.
Maybe it’s because I’m doing the
right thing at last . . .”
Fahrenheit 451 p. 131
PERSONAL
Personal
“I feel alive for the first time in years,” said Faber. “I
feel
I’m doing
I should’ve
done
“I feel
alivewhat
for the
first time
ina lifetime ago.
For a little while I’m not afraid. Maybe it’s because
years,” said Faber. “I feel I’m doing
I’m doing the right thing at last.. . . . “
what I should’ve done a lifetime
ago.
Fahrenheit 451 p. 131
For a little while I’m not afraid.
Maybe it’s because I’m doing the
right thing at last . . .”
Fahrenheit 451 p. 131
Grieving
Corny
It sounds clichéd
But at times like this,
I miss my dad.
I mean,
I don’t remember him –
he died of cancer when I was three.
Pictures
are all that’s left.
My favorite one is
us sitting on a bench, eating ice cream.
Our knees are knobby the same way,
we’re both grinning like hyenas,
he’s pointing at the camera.
I haven’t had a dad in twelve years.
Most of the time,
that’s okay.
But today,
right now,
I’d like a hug.
From him.
Shark Girl, Kelly Bingham
Grieving
Corny
It sounds clichéd
But at times like this,
I miss my dad.
I mean,
I don’t remember him –
he died of cancer when I was three.
Pictures
are all that’s left.
My favorite one is
us sitting on a bench, eating ice cream.
Our knees are knobby the same way,
we’re both grinning like hyenas,
he’s pointing at the camera.
I haven’t had a dad in twelve years.
Most of the time,
that’s okay.
But today,
right now,
I’d like a hug.
From him.
Shark Girl, Kelly Bingham