Every year, The Archer School for Girls hosts the Literature &... Conference, a highly selective gathering of students from across Los Angeles to present their original academic and creative writing. Of more than 150 submissions, only 23 students from 11 schools were selected to present their work. Among them was senior Katherine T. ’26, whose essay, “Three Hamlet Adaptations Walk Into a Literary Conference: Observations on Literary Conventions, the Delegation of Narrative Power, and Women as Plot Devices,” earned her place at the conference.
Though her interests typically lean toward STEM, Katherine welcomed the opportunity to explore literary analysis and represent the Marymount English department. “I was really excited to attend the conference because I have never considered myself a ‘humanities student’ despite loving poetry,” reflected Katherine. “I’ve spent all of high school doing STEM-related things, so it was really exciting getting to spend time on something I don’t typically get to do”
In her essay, Katherine examined how female characters are used as narrative devices in works of literature, focusing specifically on Ophelia in Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Her analysis explores the ways women are often relegated to supporting roles in fiction—pushing male protagonists forward in their narrative arcs while falling to the wayside themselves, or in Ophelia’s case, dying off-stage. Katherine extended this thread across a range of literary archetypes, identifying the recurring use of two-dimensional female characters as scapegoats, helpers, maidens, mothers, and crones across mediums. Drawing parallels between Shakespearean and Hitchcockian storytelling, Katherine examined how women are often positioned as means to an end for the men around them rather than individuals fulfilling their own storylines.
“While watching Psycho, I noticed the stark difference between how characters spoke about the ‘Mother’ figure and Mother as a real woman,” Katherine explained. “I began to think about all the female historical figures who have been misconstrued because historians (often male) told their stories for them.”
Mrs. Bates, or “Mother,” in Psycho is a classic film character who never truly appears. Later iterations of the story expand on her backstory, but in both the original novel and film, she is dead for the entirety of the narrative. Every trait, motivation, and action attributed to her is assumed—either by her son, Norman, who has developed an alternative personality based on his mother, or by other characters extrapolating from Norman’s stories. Mrs. Bates has no control over her own narrative arc.
Katherine extends a similar analysis to Shakespeare’s Ophelia, a character long beloved because of her ambiguity. “Shakespeare gives his audience considerable room for interpretation in Ophelia's character,” Katherine said. “Yet, the most common reading is that she, at the mercy of others' narration, goes mad and drowns.”
In the original text of Hamlet, Ophelia’s death is described rather than shown, giving other characters ownership of her final moments and shaping the audience’s understanding of her state of mind through their own biases—much like the narrative constructed around Mother in Psycho.
Through her essay, Katherine engaged with college-level themes of feminist theory and rhetorical analysis, drawing attention not only to narrative gaps within the characters she studied, but also inviting audiences to reconsider the stories they encounter every day.
“I hope my work prompts people to ask the women around them about their perspectives and motivations rather than making convenient or attractive assumptions,” Katherine said. “I wanted my presentation to encourage the audience to seek out stories they have overlooked or misunderstood and develop a more inclusive and complete view of society.”
Katherine’s selection for the conference speaks not only to the strength of her writing, but to the kind of intellectual curiosity Marymount encourages students to pursue. Across disciplines, students are encouraged not only to absorb knowledge, but to interrogate it, asking whose voices are heard, whose are missing, and how the stories we tell shape the world around us.