The Power of Unspoken Emotion 

“The Threshold,” written by Christina Peri Rossi, delves into the narrative of a woman trapped in the confinements of her dreamless existence. Because she cannot dream, the woman fears that she might remain oblivious to the deep layers of her own identity that dreams would provide her. The story’s narrator, who we as readers assume is the woman’s partner, consistently refers to her throughout the story as “the woman,” avoiding any personal identifiers. The narrator’s continuous depersonalization of the woman and her incapability to dream hold her back from her fullest potential and experience a reality where she could be more than just “the woman.” Rossi’s narrative reflects the limitations that a lack of self-awareness and generic labels can impose on personal growth.

A life with no dreams would certainly make one miserable. In frustration, the woman looks to her partner for support and an explanation as to why she cannot dream. The woman fears the long-lasting effects that will come from her incapability. The narrator captures the woman’s fear: “She thinks by not dreaming she is unaware of things about herself that dreams would surely give her. She doesn’t have the door of dreams that opens every night to questions the certainties of the day” (Rossi 97). This quote captures the role of dreams and how our thoughts are dissected and examined through a subconscious lens, free from reality, resulting in clarity. Supporting evidence relating to the importance of dreams in human psychology has been found by respected psychologists. In “Psychoanalysis and Psychology,” Ryan writes:

The “I” is only one part of the mind, according to Freud. If we pay attention to such things as dreams, we come to realize that there is another dimension to the mind that is outside the “I” but that plays a role in shaping what happens in conscious thought. What Freud termed the “unconscious” consists of several things. It is a record of all of our significant experiences. (113)

Dreams play a crucial role in human cognition and emotional processing, often aiding in confronting unresolved issues or exploring uncharted desires. For the woman in The Threshold, her inability to dream represents not only a lack of emotional release but also a loss of self-discovery. Dreams allow us to access the endless depth of our unconscious minds, and for her, this absence leaves her with an empty void. Without dreams, she cannot reflect on her inner thoughts, fears, and aspirations. The woman’s frustration throughout the narrative is compounded by her inability to make sense of her own identity without this essential cognitive process.

Through our “unconscious” thoughts, we experience significant things that influence our conscious lives. The narrator views dreams as fun and odd. “In dreams we don’t have underwear to cover our nakedness, elevators stop in the middle of floors or smash against the roof, and when we go to the movies, all the seats have their backs to the screen. Objects lose their functionality in dreams to become obstacles, or they have their laws that we don’t know anything about” (Rossi 97). The narrator’s depiction of dreams in the short story can give us insight into their thought process regarding the severity of the woman’s inability to dream. To the narrator, dreams are just unconventional and silly scenarios. To the woman, dreams are essential in her self-growth.

Throughout the story, the narrator seems almost amused by the woman’s incapability to dream. They make a mockery out of her struggles. “She is like a tired traveler who stops at the threshold and stays there, stationary as a plant” (Rossi 98). To them, it is not so serious, but to her, it is a part of life she is excluded from. The narrator believes the woman feels left out of the amusement of dreaming. “She, in turn, would like to dream of flying, of slipping from tree to tree way above the rooftops” (Rossi 99). The woman must only wish to dream about doing supernatural things, right? She has no thoughts of substance that she would dream about; at least, that is what the narrator believes. They underestimate the woman’s capabilities and conscious thoughts. They only view her as “the woman” who misses out on the unrealistic excursions that come with dreams.

With the assumptions the narrator makes on what the woman’s dreams would consist of, we intersect that with her label as “the woman.” There is a sense of depersonalization throughout the short story. Never learning the woman’s name adds to the symbolism of her lost sense of identity. How can she feel fulfilled and respected if she cannot even be called by her first name? The narrator seems to be someone the woman confides in and has deep feelings for, but there is a sense of resentment towards them. This resentment may arise not only because the narrator can dream but also because the narrator assumes a higher social status. Although never addressed by a name or label, the narrator’s dreams reveal how they perceive themselves. In one dream, the narrator describes, “I tell her the last dream I had, of a prisoner in a small punishment cell, isolated from light, time, space, human voices… The guard promises to free him if the man can frighten away the lion who hunts him down each time he dreams. ‘You’re the prisoner,’ she says with a vengeance” (Rossi 100). In this dream, the narrator identifies as a male, reinforcing the power dynamic between them and the woman. The fact that they see themselves as a male in their dreams suggests they view themselves as having some authority or superiority over the woman, whether that might be because of their gender, education, etc.; we can make these observations throughout the narrative. This subconsciously creates resentment in the woman towards the narrator, and because the woman cannot dream, it is not clear until the story’s climax.

The woman asks the narrator to describe their dreams to her in detail to fulfill her emptiness of not being able to dream on her own. The narrator views her behavior as childlike: “Just as children can’t stand any slight change and love repetition, she insists that I tell her the same dream two or three times, a tale full of people I don’t know, strange forms, unreal happenings on the road, and she becomes annoyed if in the second version there are some elements that were not in the first” (Rossi 99). Their shortage of patience and comparing the woman to a child shows their lack of respect towards the woman. The narrator does not view the woman as an equal; they view her as a nagging toddler, repeatedly asking the same questions.

After repeated attempts to dream, it reaches bedtime on another average night. The narrator begins telling a story, hopefully leading them to the door, resulting in a dream. “That night, we go to bed at the usual time and I am the one in charge of beginning the story that is to take us imperceptibly—but together—to the auspicious door” (Rossi 100). The woman interacts with the narrator while they tell the story, adding her details, hoping it will result in her dreaming herself. Despite her efforts, the woman finds herself lagging behind the narrator. “Don’t leave me alone.” “There’s not much space.” “Don’t leave me.” “I have to go on. I’m at the end of the pathway, my eyes are closing, I can’t talk any more…” (Rossi 102). In this pivotal scene, the woman is confronted with the realization of her own suppressed emotions in waking life. Not only did her dream reveal her potential, but it also revealed the narrator’s disregard for her presence. In her dream, she is untouched by fear or limitation. Filled with resentment and relief, she acts on her discoveries. “She throws herself forward, following the vague and dark aura that his footsteps have made in the shadowy corridor, and before he crosses over the threshold, she plunges a knife in his back” (Rossi 100). The woman can see clearer in her dream than she has ever seen in her conscious reality. Stabbing the narrator in the back symbolizes the end of her past reality, where she was naive to the depersonalization she was experiencing.

Living a life referred to as “the woman” has created limits to the woman’s conscious reality. The act of stabbing the narrator symbolizes her breaking point and her rebellion against the invisible chains that have been holding her back from her fullest potential. The stabbing is not only a physical release for the woman, but it also serves as an existential awakening. By defying the limitations she previously succumbed to, she claims her individuality. With the assumption that she will carry this newfound self into her conscious existence, we witness a transformation from an un-addressed “woman” to a woman who has reclaimed her identity and who will no longer live within the confines of “the woman.” This conclusion to “The Threshold” portrays a narrative of empowerment and self-discovery and one woman’s journey from anonymity to self-awareness.

Works Cited

“Psychoanalysis and Psychology.” Literary Theory, edited by Michael Ryan, John Wiley & Sons, Ltd., 2017.

Rossi, Cristina Peri. “The Threshold.” A Forbidden Passion: Stories, Cleis Press, 1993.

Hannah O’Brien is a political science student passionate about gender rights and plans to pursue a career in law. She enjoys writing both academically and for fun, focusing on political and social issues. You can connect with her on Instagram at @hannahjobrien.