It was no ordinary thing that called her away—it was probably further from ordinary than anything that had ever happened in Dickson County. But what her eye took in was that her kitchen was in no shape for leaving: her bread all ready for mixing, half the flour sifted and half unsifted.
The first indication that something of truly unusual and unexpected has occurred is marked by these words, which offer insight into the mind of Martha Hale. Today is not going to be an ordinary day for the folks of Dickson Country. Something truly monumental has occurred—the reader doesn’t know what yet—and still, Martha finds the time to be concerned about kitchen domesticity. This quote not only informs the reader that the story is big, but it also gives important information about the role of women while subtly foreshadowing that this major occurrence is most likely going to turn on issues of domesticity.
It looked very lonesome this cold March morning. It had always been a lonesome-looking place.
Mrs. Hale's observation as she and the others drive up to the Wright home sets the stage of the bleak and depressing drama that unfolded within its walls. There John had squashed the once-vibrant Minnie Foster, turning her into a melancholy, lonely woman without a shred of joy in her life until a songbird came into it. John's murder of the bird facilitated his own murder by Minnie's hand. Even before revealing what happened at the Wright house, though, Glaspell makes the reader aware of its ominous nature through Mrs. Hale's thoughts.
"How did she—look?" the county attorney was inquiring.
"Well," said Hale, "she looked—queer."
"How do you mean—queer?"
"Well, as if she didn't know what she was going to do next."
This small exchange between the county attorney and first person to discover John Wright was dead is an example of how skillful Glaspell is at stoking the reader's curiosity. We still have no idea what happened, though, clearly, something did. On a cold and blustery day, five characters are standing inside a house that isn't theirs, listening to the haltingly-delivered account of a man who is clearly apprehensive about having to tell his story at all. We listen along with Mrs. Hale, wondering exactly what Mr. Hale is going to say, paying attention to the nuances of each word choice because Glaspell has made us aware through Mrs. Hale's careful observation of her husband that what he does say is very, very important.
"Nothing here but kitchen things," he said, with a little laugh for the insignificance of kitchen things.
The Sheriff’s dismissal of the kitchen as insignificant in the investigation of Mr. Wright’s murder will be, to an extent, the undoing of that investigation. The dismissive attitude is indicative of the hubris of men. This comment also reinforces the differences between the men and women in regard to the general lives they lead and their approach to this particular crime.
"She—come to think of it, she was kind of like a bird herself. Real sweet and pretty, but kind of timid and—fluttery. How—she—did—change."
Just in case the symbolism isn't quite obvious enough, Mrs. Hale here makes it inescapable. She sees Minnie as pretty and timid, prone to sweet singing and bringing joy to others. However, once she married John Wright, she was effectively caged and silenced. She did not interact with anyone else, and he effectively muted her literal and figurative voice. The bird's death was essentially Minnie's death—leading, in a form of self-defense, to John Wright's death.
Martha Hale snatched the box from the sheriff's wife, and got it in the pocket of her big coat just as the sheriff and the county attorney came back into the kitchen.
And with this act, Mrs. Wright has been found not guilty of the murder she committed by a jury of her peers: the women who remained behind in her kitchen while the menfolk went about doing "important" police investigative work elsewhere in the house. Minnie may still have to go to trial, and something else might perhaps emerge, but at this moment, the two women have delivered real justice for Minnie Wright. They are the legitimate "jury of her peers." They understand the nuances of her life and why she was compelled to kill her husband, and though they perhaps do not condone everything, they understand it and deem that she has suffered enough.
