A Slilghtly Off Kilter Interpretation of Glaspell's "Triflies"

Just for fun, permit me to float a balloon here. Another thought has occurred to me about trifles (things or people of little importance) in Glaspell’s play. The fabric of a person’s life is a mosaic of fragmented shards that when fitted together tell a story. Every piece, what the men in the story refer to as “trifles,” is a symbol in the narrative of a life. Each so-called trifle is a piece of a puzzle or a pixel in a larger image. The clothes we wear, the people we associate with, the books we read, the movies we watch, the papers we write, and the furniture in our living room say something about us. They are mind prints. Every trifle has meaning that is subject to interpretation. Therefore, meaning itself is subjective—no less so than right and wrong, and what is moral or immoral. At the end of the play the women are practicing moral autonomy. 

In essence, perhaps Glaspell is showing us that there are no trifles. Every human being, every animal, has inherent value that is independent of its usefulness to other people. A woman’s intrinsic value is independent of her usefulness to a man. The clues to solve a mystery are there for everyone to discover. In “Trifles,” the men value those clues differently than the women. They only see “woman things” in the kitchen of the Wright house rather than having an open mind about what is there, the meanings they hold for people and what they symbolize. Indeed, they do not value them at all because their culturally constructed gender bias blinds them. They see the micro detached from the macro, and so they fail to connect the dots. Clueless, they go off floundering in the barn looking for clues. Does this make any sense or am I grasping at straws?