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Literary Devices

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Juxtaposition:  in the stillness of the cavern's dark silence, there is a screaming dirth crammed in the space between Anna's ears. A voice that is full of fear. Grief.

And underneath it all, sleeping like the earth giants above, anger.

The fear she expects. The fear she knows. It has been there all along, clinging to her every time Elsa followed that strange call and turned around surprised that Anna wanted to follow her.

Onomatopoeia:  The span of Elsa's shoulders had a sound like the slam of a door.

The fear is nothing new. This entire journey she has been nothing but afraid. Afraid of losing Elsa. Afraid of losing Kristoff's love. 

Afraid of being alone.

Irony:  Anna had been foolish enough to believe her days of isolation were behind her. 

The grief in the center of her chest is thick. Heavy. But it, too, is no stranger. Anna had been alone to bury their parents. She is alone now to grieve her sister. To grieve her friend.

Again.

The anger is what is surprising. It is weak and flimsy because Anna has never been good at holding on to anger, but it is there, still slumbering. Anger at being left behind, at being shut out again. At Elsa forcing her to grieve and figure out what she's supposed to do. Alone.

There's...another device here related to that. Probably. Somewhere in between the irony of Elsa forcing Anna not to follow her anymore so she could continue following that mysterious secret siren in turn, and the paradox that the "powerless" sister is the one who has to figure out how to fix an enchanted forest. 

Alone.

Is it another paradox that a princess must make the decision to destroy her own kingdom? Or is that a tragedy?

Anna has only her ultimatum left:  a decision that has only one right answer, though it is horrible and though it feels like a betrayal to her home, to everything she has ever known. To her parents. To Elsa. 

But it is the right choice.

And Anna does not have anything else to follow anymore but her own moral compass.

What happens after she does this, she can't think about. It's too much. Too uncertain. Elsa may have heedlessly thrown herself into the pursuit of the unknown, but Anna cannot. Will not. That is not where her strength lies.

But she can do the right thing right here, right now, when no one else can. She can make things right.

Antithesis:  Anna sat down as a princess, but rises as a queen.

It's time to wake some giants.