Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    The Awakening and Selected Stories
    The Awakening and Selected Stories
    The Awakening and Selected Stories
    Ebook233 pages3 hours

    The Awakening and Selected Stories

    By Kate Chopin

    3.5/5

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    "The Awakening" is the story of Edna Pontellier, an attractive twenty-eight year old woman who is a wife and mother of two sons living in the Creole south in the late 19th century. Edna finds herself trapped in her life as a wife and a mother and feels unable to express her passionate sensuality within the confines of her marriage. She seeks a spiritual and sexual awakening through an affair with a younger man during one summer while her husband is away. Liberated by this experience she sends her children away and is determined to live a more independent and self-determined life. However this new found independence also becomes her downfall as her actions are looked down upon by the members of her society in the late 19th century south. "The Awakening" is a classic modern example of the tragic hero. It illustrates the confines of late 19th century America for women and the beginning of an era of changing social attitudes towards the role of women in society. Chopin's novel was meet with great criticism when it was first published and essentially ended her literary career. The reaction to its publication is indicative of the social attitude towards greater independence and freedom for women at the time. At the same time the novel was a harbinger of the greater independence that was soon to come for women in America. Also contained within this volume is a collection of eight shorter works by the author.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDigireads.com Publishing
    Release dateJan 1, 2010
    ISBN9781596742987
    The Awakening and Selected Stories
    Author

    Kate Chopin

    Kate Chopin, born Katherine O'Flaherty (1850-1904), was an American writer of short stories and novels based in Louisiana. Chopin is best known for her novel The Awakening, and for her short story collections, Bayou Folk (1894) and A Night in Acadie (1897). Of French and Irish descent, her work depicted the various ethnic groups of Louisiana, especially of Creoles, with sensitivity and wit, and featured vivid descriptions of the natural environment there. After her husband died in 1882 and left her $42,000 in debt, Chopin took up writing to support her family of six children. Though popular, her serious literary qualities were overlooked in her day, and she is now seen as an important early American feminist writer.

    Read more from Kate Chopin

    Related to The Awakening and Selected Stories

    Related ebooks

    Short Stories For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Free as Aira

      Sep 1, 2017

      Free as Aira
      5 min read

    • Article

      Nothingism

      Mar 1, 2019

      Nothingism
      11 min read

    • Article

      What We’re Reading: Writers And Readers On The Books They Enjoyed In May

      May 24, 2022

      In this series we ask authors, Guardian writers and readers to share what they’ve been reading recently. This month, recommendations include Terry Pratchett’s fantasy novels, a guide to writing and some gripping spy novels. Tell us what you’ve been r

      4 min read

    • Article

      Literary MagNet

      Dec 14, 2022

      “If I could only see more clearly my own seeing—” writes Katherine Indermaur in the first line of her book-length lyric essay, I|I (Seneca Review Books, November 2022). The book’s title is pronounced by repeating the pronoun “I,” with a pause after t

      3 min read

    • Article

      Get Into Character

      Apr 2, 2020

      Get Into Character
      9 min read

    • Article

      Case Study By Graeme Macrae Burnet Review – Unstable Identities

      Oct 14, 2021

      The Booker-shortlisted 2015 novel His Bloody Project employed a range of narrative techniques to prod at the truth surrounding a murder in a 19th-century Scottish crofting community. Graeme Macrae Burnet’s concern was not so much with who committed t

      4 min read

    • Article

      The Glove

      Mar 4, 2024

      The Glove
      8 min read

    • Article

      Echos

      Jan 10, 2019

      Before Corrine’s husband abandoned her in Berlin, he liked to say that her name reminded him of the word “corrupt.” But ending in a twist rather than a split. Her last name was the French word for “swimsuit” but he never mentioned that. This seemed s

      17 min read

    • Article

      Four Of A Kind

      May 3, 2023

      Four Of A Kind
      4 min read

    • Article

      Hotel ROMEO

      Oct 13, 2021

      Hotel ROMEO
      8 min read

    • Article

      Fear Of Flying

      Feb 1, 2022

      Fear Of Flying
      10 min read

    • Article

      Venice Peach

      Oct 2, 2023

      1. THE DRESSMAKER AND THE HIDDEN SOLDIER by Doug Gold (A&U) WWII thriller about Kiwi soldier and Greek dressmaker 2. SUMMER FAVOURITES by Vanya Insull (A&U) Recipes from @vj_cooks 3. TE REO KAPEKAPE: Māori Wit and Humour by Hona Black (Oratia) Having

      4 min read

    • Article

      Chronicles of NOELLA BRY

      Jun 10, 2022

      Chronicles of NOELLA BRY
      4 min read

    • Article

      Stranger Than Fiction

      Apr 12, 2024

      Stranger Than Fiction
      5 min read

    • Article

      French Twist

      Nov 13, 2022

      Is there a French word for uprooting a perfectly good life to move to the other side of the planet? If there isn’t, there should be. Just don’t ask Anna Bibby. The former owner of Auckland’s well-known Anna Bibby Gallery moved to France 13 years ago

      7 min read

    • Article

      Typewriter

      Aug 2, 2021

      Chère Madame. Vous ne vous rappelleriez pas de moi, mais de ma part… Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap… She flicks the return bar – PING – and her fingers fall back into rhythm. Catherine’s French comes as naturally as the movement of her

      5 min read

    • Article

      BOOKS TO READ in January/February

      Dec 11, 2020

      BY NIGELLA LAWSON (CHATTO & WINDUS, R419) This is a delicious and delightful combination of recipes intertwined with narrative essays about food, all written in Nigella’s engaging and insightful prose. Whether she’s posing the question, ‘What is a re

      5 min read

    • Article

      Ink Upon the Furrows

      Oct 1, 2018

      Ink Upon the Furrows
      9 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for The Awakening and Selected Stories

    3.5/5

    2,494 ratings105 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

    • 5/5
      Given to me my senior year of high school; a fantastic introduction to turn of the century feminism, a great companion piece to books like The House of Mirth.
    • 4/5
      A milestone for feminism and realism, Chopin's masterpiece is as relevant today as it was over a century ago.
    • 5/5
      a perfect story
    • 5/5
      "I would give up the unessential; I would give my money, I would give my life for my children; but I wouldn't give myself. I can't make it more clear; it's only something which I am beginning to comprehend, which is revealing itself to me." This touching and meaningful passage from The Awakening says everything about the main character's realization that she can be more than an accessory to her husband and children. An early feminist novel, this story is both tragic and telling about the lives of women in the Victorian era.
    • 5/5
      One of the books I read in high school that blew me away. Kate Chopin was so ahead of her time, and I love the language, especially the passages describing the pull of the sea on the main character. This is probably in my all-time top ten books. The fact that I live in New Orleans now and a lot of the places Chopin mentions haven't changed in 100 years is also delightful.
    • 4/5
      This classic was published in 1899, but many people may not have had the opportunity to read it. Even though it’s over one hundred years old, the themes it raises are very relevant to us today and should spark a lot of discussion.The Awakening is remembered as an early feminist work. When Chopin published it, its subject was so radical that the book was denounced and the author was shunned by both readers and publishers. It is about a young wife and mother, Edna Pontellier, who finds herself changing during a pivotal summer at the Grand Isle resort in Louisiana.No longer content to remain in her traditional role, Edna awakens to a desire to live as she feels inside and finds it impossible to conceal her innermost passions from the world. But her desires conflict with the conventions of society. Women have come a long way since then, but we can still relate to how Edna feels and the obstacles she faces.
    • 5/5
      This book reminds me of The Yellow Wallpaper. It's a commentary about the limitations placed on women in society and the desperate lengths some women will go to in order to find solace.
    • 4/5
      Interesting series of victorian short stories based on in New Orleans.
    • 5/5
      One of my favorite books of all time. The main character's search for identity and independence is wonderfully constructed. You yearn for her freedom and want her to be happy while also begging her to do the right thing for her family. Heavy symbolism runs throughout, but a very moving depiction of the stifling life of women.
    • 5/5
      I knew I started this book once long ago and it annoyed me, so I didn't get very far. At some point, however, I must have read it because scenes late in the book were so familiar. Loved it this time around.
    • 5/5
      One of the most amazing experiences it was reading is this masterpiece of women's literature about a woman struggling to find her own place in a world of men, where not only her public view but also essentially her needs are exclusively dictated by her social roles, in this case as a wife and mother. It is not that it was a marvellous read, with such beautiful writing, it was the shock of thinking how little has actually changed since the 19th century status of a woman. Because even today women have to struggle with their roles as mothers, wives and workers. And if they so happen as to also have intellectual or artistic concerns, like painting in the case of Chopin's protagonist, Edna, then it is a constant battle with time and decision making, what to leave behind. Edna only understands that she can rely on no one else but herself in the end, and it is devastating to discover that not even her so called liberators would allow her the freedom they allegedly lead her to find. Although I am not in favour of suicide as a road to emancipation, I like to believe that Edna's drowning is not out of despair but an ultimate act of free will, a declaration of self-determination, a statement that she is eventually mistress of herself and, if she chooses, it is her prerogative to take away from her "rulers" the very object of their rule. The Awakening is really among the books I would like to have been able to read again for the first time, but it is also a book that you can read again and again, each time discovering something new to contemplate on.
    • 4/5
      A woman on summer holiday with her husband and two little boys gains the attention of the resort owner's son. This flirtation sets off a realization in her that her life could be...more. And from there she begins to balk at the constrains that the life of a wife and mother place on her. In essence, she realizes that she's unhappy and she sets about to change that. It ends badly for her, because of course it does. The novel reads like a Greek myth in that sense: women who strive for independence, autonomy, or power of any kind generally don't make it out of the story alive. So I liked the book for its alignment with ancient myth, although in general I want my characters to get out of their heads and *do* more. It felt a bit like Madame Bovary but make it slightly less intolerable but also slightly less well written.
    • 3/5
      Pioneering feminist work bogged down by its emotionally distant atmosphere, without any room for complete immersion nor resonance, The Awakening tells the frustrating ambivalence and wavering desire of the unhappily married Edna Pontellier. Caught in the surging waters of domesticity, while living a comfortable life on its treacherously calm surface, she wades around for any sense of purpose. But she is tied by social norms, pulling her underneath. This is exacerbated by other women, wives and mothers both, swimming around her, docile and obedient, as they trap themselves happily within the borders of opportunities or lack thereof, entirely contented by the lacklustre life laid out before them. Be a wife, be a mother, they say. Be grateful, they say. But Edna could not accept such a fate, yet she does not know what she path to take for herself. She is neither an enthusiastic wife nor an enthusiastic mother. Kate Chopin writes it as an 'indescribable oppression, which seems to generate in some unfamiliar part of her (Edna's) consciousness'. So Edna moves her arms, tightens her muscles, does two, three strokes, cuts across these waters, 'she wanted to swim far out, where no woman had swum before.' Edna rebels in immoral and disagreeable ways. However, not even the temporary (false) freedom and (sly) satisfaction and (tyrannous) thrill provided by anything forbidden—as an aspiring painter, as a pining lover—satiates her soul. Every choice is impeded by a society only interested in making her a woman like a million others. What's left is to take the only thing she tightly clasps between her fingers; the only thing she owns, even if it has been (unsuccessfully )shaped into everyone's expectations. So she let the strong current swallow her, drag her down—willingly and wantonly for once.
    • 3/5
      I came across this book when my nephew was reading it for school. First published in 1899, the book was famous (notorious) for its sympathetic portrayal of a woman in a loveless marriage who strays from her husband and responsibilities.The book was lost from view for more than 50 years, and only came back to notice when a Norwegian academic wrote about it.It's an OK book, nothing special. For me, the major interest was the historical context - the role of a woman and wife 120 years ago, and their limited opportunities to live a satisfying and productive life. While the role of women today may not be ideal, advances in education, employment, courtship and contraception mean that vastly fewer western women now face the stultifying existence of the main character of this book.
    • 3/5
      A trailblazing novel in its time, kind of boring to the modern reader.
    • 5/5
      A Book With Bad ReviewsI can only imagine that Kate Chopin's The Awakening received bad reviews due to its divergence from the morality of the era it was published in, because it is a well-written story which only hints at the indelicate thoughts and actions of its protagonist, Edna Pontellier. As a character she reminds me of Clarissa Dalloway or Mother from Doctorow's Ragtime, a dreamy woman who finds herself stifled by a romance-less marriage to a man who, typical of his age, possesses her as he does his house or furniture.The Awakening is a short, straight-forward tale, whose power comes from the anticipation and suspense Chopin builds in portraying Edna's budding realization that there is something missing in her life. The interplay between Edna and her two gentleman callers is a slow, entrancing waltz. Both men make love to Edna in the old-fashioned sense of the phrase - verbally, rather than physically - in sensuous (a favorite word of Chopin) flirtations that push the boundaries of acceptable behavior between a married woman and unattached men. Even the ending, easily foreseen, fits perfectly into the narrative.To enjoy this novel you must read it with a 19th century mentality. While readers of the time found it shocking and offensive, there is nothing even mildly titillating in it*. There are several scenes where Edna is alone with one of her paramours; these are so well written that you find yourself believing a tryst occurred but realize, upon a closer reading, that nothing more than kisses were exchanged. There is also a scene in which Edna visits a pregnant friend and stays for the birth, yet their is only the mildest of indications of what transpired.I could have assigned this as A Book You Can Read In A Day on my themed reading list; regardless, it is well worth including on your own list.* - My Dover Thrift Edition comes with a laughable warning to "[s]ensitive readers" who might be offended that Chopin uses the word darky (or perhaps black or mulatto - after reading the book I can't imagine what they're referring to) on several occasions in the novel. I expected the n-word, at a minimum, to merit such a silly forewarning. And in a version published in 1993, no less.
    • 3/5
      Regarded as highly scandalous when it was published in 1898, this story of a young wife who is bored with her lie as a proper wife and mother in late 19th Century New Orleans and seeks out her own independent life, seems fairly run of the mill in the 21st Century. It is, however, well written and held my interest from beginning to end.
    • 5/5
      The written text was boring at times and the characters were not well developed but the story is highly impactful. I fully understand the the sentiments of the key character, Edna. The interests and desires of the individual are often trumped by societal expectations and pressures. It is not terribly surprising that Edna commits suicide, since life for her had become ruined by those she interacted with. I applaud her spirit. I recommend this book for anyone who is willing to think independently.
    • 5/5
      Required reading in too many English classes, normally I would hate such a text, but this actually is pretty good, and has always been very relevant. It stands the test of time like few do. Not my favorite period or writer, but among the best of each. Recommended.
    • 4/5
      Read in "The Awakening and Selected Short Stories"The novella The Awakening I found melancholy in the same way that Anna Karenina and Mrs. Dalloway were. The story has a lot in common with Anna Karenina, Madame Bovary & some other classics of this time; I can see that when it was first published in 1899 it might have been thought shocking or daring. However, just as with Anna, I found the main character Edna more annoying than sympathetic (although Edna was nowhere near as annoying as Anna!). I was much more sympathetic to Robert! I guess this is one instance to which my modern sensibilities just can't really relate.
    • 2/5
      An appeasing novella, but dated and lacking in many instances. Altogether, did not enjoy very much.
    • 4/5
      As I read through this at 45, knowing so much more than I did at 14 (yet nowhere near enough), I am struck by the obliviousness to racism. Again and again, the black servants are referred to not by name but by position and even more frequently by, well, percent of blackness - the mulatto, the quadroon, etc.The Awakening speaks, in a time where it was unheard of, with great sensitivity to the sexual nature of women, to women feeling lost and trapped in their roles and disconnected from life. Yet there seems to be no feeling for the roles forced upon the former slaves and children of former slaves. It touches on the way that not every woman feels a longing for motherhood or a maternal instinct yet is forced to play that role. Yet it utterly ignores the dual burden placed on women of color to perform the bulk of the labor to raise the children of affluent white women while still performing all the labor of raising their own.The writing is lovely and evocative, but now more so than before, it tells me both the story she meant to tell and another of our ignorance of anyone's suffering but our own.
    • 5/5
      I once tried to read this book, quite some years ago, when I wasn't ready for it and I didn't finish it. But today, many years older (and hopefully wiser), I finally understood it. And it was everything. While I didn't actually like anyone in the book, I have to admire Chopin's determination to write something like this, to write Edna's boldness in wanting to be more than just a wife and a mother.
      #booked2018 #feministclassic
    • 3/5
      This was somewhat difficult to read, mainly because of the writing style of the time period, I think. I was overly dramatic. There were some lovely passages of description and I understood the point of the story, but the style was a little clumsy.
    • 3/5
      WTF????? This book left me SHOOK. Also I guess I should add a trigger warning because Edna does struggle with not being able to see better days for herself and it did lead her to pick suicideEdna wants more out of life. After a vacation in the Mexican Gulf she goes home feeling unsatisfied with her role as dutiful wife and doting mother. Why? It all begins with an emotional affair she enters with a man named Robert Lebrun. When he sets off for Mexico Edna realizes how deep she is in her feelings for him and things just go downhill from there. Though Madame Adèle Ratignolle is a dear friend and a great role model to her she can't help but feel a stronger connection to Mademoiselle Reisz the type of woman she wishes she could've been.So this was part of the trifecta of IB/AP/Honors English Literature being swapped out from a pool of A Doll's House, Their Eyes Were Watching God, or I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. Every year the English teacher would choose three of those books to read and analyze and all that jazz except when it came time for my group to study three of them, Awakening was not a part of the trio. But I kind of wish it had beat out Doll's House that one was really annoying to analyze.Honestly, this book was really close to getting a two because of how annoying I found Edna Pontellier but then it ended. Okay so with that out of the way what did I like? For one, I liked the exposition into Edna's life. She didn't have it all that bad but it wasn't ideal either especially for a woman that clearly wasn't happy as a wife or mother. It rang true to life. Also her love affair with music was just as juicy as her love affair with Alcée Arobin. The symbolism of certain things were also clever to the point I kicked myself for not noticing where it was all heading.So why such a low rating? I hated Edna. Yeah, I know, a good feminist would feel a connection with Edna and her breaking gender roles and all that but she was so childish. I'm all for a self aware character that knows they are different from what society expects from them but Edna's reactions to certain situations drove me mad. Okay so she's shocked that Robert's leaving, I get it, but did she have to go insane about it? Her lover wants her but she tries to reject him only to pounce on him the next chance she got. Her sister's getting married and she doesn't want to go because REASONS. To me it just felt like an excuse the author picked to get her to be alone and able to have her first physically sexual awakening. At some point Madame Adèle Ratignolle calls her out on her behavior and I had to take a pause and really think about it. Is it a good thing because I wasn't wrong that it's exactly how she was behaving? Or have I been conditioned just as Mdm R to perceive Edna's behavior as such? SHOOK.Also, I didn't think Mr. Pontellier was all that bad either. He did seem to care for her wellbeing but again, have I just been conditioned to think Edna the bad guy here or was Mr. P really just one of those nice white guys that wants us to clap for him just because he's not a bad guy? But then again I really liked Robert but was it just because he was able to act on what he wanted which made him so likeable, unlike Edna who couldn't do anything because of societal norms? - clearly I wish this had been used in my time at school because I have a lot to say about this book. But I'm sorry I didn't like it more.
    • 3/5
      The plot of this American classic revolves around Edna Pontellier, the wife of a New Orleans businessman during the cusp of the 20th century, who feeling restrained by feminine social roles of the times and rebels in unorthodox ways.Imagine if Lucy and Ricky slept in the same bed during their 1950s sitcom. Although this book pales in comparison to today's nightly entertainment, it would have been considered risque for the time because of the social commentary, which is why it has been included on the banned book list. Although several archaic words had me checking the dictionary from time to time, the dated language interfered little in my enjoyment of this paragon of feminist literature.
    • 4/5
      Well written romantic. feminist tragedy. Considered a classic. The main character needed a good therapist. :-)
    • 2/5
      I know this is suppose to be a huge book for feminism, but I didn't like it. She just seems so unsatisfied in every situation. I don't know why she became a mother in the first place, and I think committing suicide because you want to have an affair with someone that won't adjust their morals is pretty selfish. I didn't study this book at all so I'm probably way off the mark about a lot of it, but this is how it felt for me while reading.
    • 3/5
      I loved this book when I first read it in college. I decided to reread it as my daughter was reading it for school and unfortunately it didn't move me this time. I found that the story moved very slowly. That I really didn't like the entitled characters. And the first time I read it I could identify with Edna. This time I really disliked Edna. Perhaps I could forgive her leaving a husband that she didn't like. But her disinterest in her children made me angry. And the ending really bothered me this time.
    • 5/5
      ... oh my goodness me the reviews.

      Some of them are so unkind, so cruel and so scathing. And for everyone criticising Chopin's writing and saying how they would write this book -- Go! Go write a book with feminist themes that you'd like to see in a book.

      Edna, as a female protagonist, stands for so much more than a selfish woman who has had an affair. She is brave enough, and bold enough to completely abandon society and realise that she is so much more than a mother and a wife. She realises, during the course of the book, that she has a self that neither her husband or her children would ever see.

      This book is full of metaphors and beautifully written. I loved how Chopin created atmosphere and texture and colour, and how she drew on her environment to enhance her writing. It was written in 1899, and was so ground-breaking for its time.

      I don't like books about cheating, or with cheating tropes. I think it's lazy, and I don't find it interesting.

      But I loved this book. This is an important book.

      But more than anything, I love Edna. She is a beautiful, flawed women, and I saw part of myself in her. Furthermore, all these negative comments and reviews make me realise that this is why we need feminism. This is why I need feminism.

      And I will love and defend Edna and her choices till the end of my days. Chopin, I tip my hat to you. I will give this book to my friends, and to anyone who asks.

      (I feel like this review is a little bit harsh - we're all entitled to our different opinions but it makes me a bit sad that people are so unfair to a female protagonist.)

    Book preview

    The Awakening and Selected Stories - Kate Chopin

    THE AWAKENING

    AND

    SELECTED STORIES

    BY KATE CHOPIN

    A Digireads.com Book

    Digireads.com Publishing

    Print ISBN 13: 978-1-4209-2233-2

    Ebook ISBN 13: 978-1-59674-298-7

    This edition copyright © 2012

    Please visit www.digireads.com

    CONTENTS

    THE AWAKENING

    BEYOND THE BAYOU

    MA'AME PELAGIE

    DESIREE'S BABY

    A RESPECTABLE WOMAN

    THE KISS

    A PAIR OF SILK STOCKINGS

    THE LOCKET

    A REFLECTION

    THE AWAKENING

    I

    A green and yellow parrot, which hung in a cage outside the door, kept repeating over and over:

    "Allez vous-en! Allez vous-en! Sapristi! That's all right!"

    He could speak a little Spanish, and also a language which nobody understood, unless it was the mocking-bird that hung on the other side of the door, whistling his fluty notes out upon the breeze with maddening persistence.

    Mr. Pontellier, unable to read his newspaper with any degree of comfort, arose with an expression and an exclamation of disgust.

    He walked down the gallery and across the narrow bridges which connected the Lebrun cottages one with the other. He had been seated before the door of the main house. The parrot and the mockingbird were the property of Madame Lebrun, and they had the right to make all the noise they wished. Mr. Pontellier had the privilege of quitting their society when they ceased to be entertaining.

    He stopped before the door of his own cottage, which was the fourth one from the main building and next to the last. Seating himself in a wicker rocker which was there, he once more applied himself to the task of reading the newspaper. The day was Sunday; the paper was a day old. The Sunday papers had not yet reached Grand Isle. He was already acquainted with the market reports, and he glanced restlessly over the editorials and bits of news which he had not had time to read before quitting New Orleans the day before.

    Mr. Pontellier wore eye-glasses. He was a man of forty, of medium height and rather slender build; he stooped a little. His hair was brown and straight, parted on one side. His beard was neatly and closely trimmed.

    Once in a while he withdrew his glance from the newspaper and looked about him. There was more noise than ever over at the house. The main building was called the house, to distinguish it from the cottages. The chattering and whistling birds were still at it. Two young girls, the Farival twins, were playing a duet from Zampa upon the piano. Madame Lebrun was bustling in and out, giving orders in a high key to a yard-boy whenever she got inside the house, and directions in an equally high voice to a dining-room servant whenever she got outside. She was a fresh, pretty woman, clad always in white with elbow sleeves. Her starched skirts crinkled as she came and went. Farther down, before one of the cottages, a lady in black was walking demurely up and down, telling her beads. A good many persons of the pension had gone over to the Cheniere Caminada in Beaudelet's lugger to hear mass. Some young people were out under the water oaks playing croquet. Mr. Pontellier's two children were there sturdy little fellows of four and five. A quadroon nurse followed them about with a faraway, meditative air.

    Mr. Pontellier finally lit a cigar and began to smoke, letting the paper drag idly from his hand. He fixed his gaze upon a white sunshade that was advancing at snail's pace from the beach. He could see it plainly between the gaunt trunks of the water-oaks and across the stretch of yellow camomile. The gulf looked far away, melting hazily into the blue of the horizon. The sunshade continued to approach slowly. Beneath its pink-lined shelter were his wife, Mrs. Pontellier, and young Robert Lebrun. When they reached the cottage, the two seated themselves with some appearance of fatigue upon the upper step of the porch, facing each other, each leaning against a supporting post.

    What folly! to bathe at such an hour in such heat! exclaimed Mr. Pontellier. He himself had taken a plunge at daylight. That was why the morning seemed long to him.

    You are burnt beyond recognition, he added, looking at his wife as one looks at a valuable piece of personal property which has suffered some damage. She held up her hands, strong, shapely hands, and surveyed them critically, drawing up her fawn sleeves above the wrists. Looking at them reminded her of her rings, which she had given to her husband before leaving for the beach. She silently reached out to him, and he, understanding, took the rings from his vest pocket and dropped them into her open palm. She slipped them upon her fingers; then clasping her knees, she looked across at Robert and began to laugh. The rings sparkled upon her fingers. He sent back an answering smile.

    What is it? asked Pontellier, looking lazily and amused from one to the other. It was some utter nonsense; some adventure out there in the water, and they both tried to relate it at once. It did not seem half so amusing when told. They realized this, and so did Mr. Pontellier. He yawned and stretched himself. Then he got up, saying he had half a mind to go over to Klein's hotel and play a game of billiards.

    Come go along, Lebrun, he proposed to Robert. But Robert admitted quite frankly that he preferred to stay where he was and talk to Mrs. Pontellier.

    Well, send him about his business when he bores you, Edna, instructed her husband as he prepared to leave.

    Here, take the umbrella, she exclaimed, holding it out to him. He accepted the sunshade, and lifting it over his head descended the steps and walked away.

    Coming back to dinner? his wife called after him. He halted a moment and shrugged his shoulders. He felt in his vest pocket; there was a ten-dollar bill there. He did not know; perhaps he would return for the early dinner and perhaps he would not. It all depended upon the company which he found over at Klein's and the size of the game. He did not say this, but she understood it, and laughed, nodding good-by to him.

    Both children wanted to follow their father when they saw him starting out. He kissed them and promised to bring them back bonbons and peanuts.

    II

    Mrs. Pontellier's eyes were quick and bright; they were a yellowish brown, about the color of her hair. She had a way of turning them swiftly upon an object and holding them there as if lost in some inward maze of contemplation or thought.

    Her eyebrows were a shade darker than her hair. They were thick and almost horizontal, emphasizing the depth of her eyes. She was rather handsome than beautiful. Her face was captivating by reason of a certain frankness of expression and a contradictory subtle play of features. Her manner was engaging.

    Robert rolled a cigarette. He smoked cigarettes because he could not afford cigars, he said. He had a cigar in his pocket which Mr. Pontellier had presented him with, and he was saving it for his after-dinner smoke.

    This seemed quite proper and natural on his part. In coloring he was not unlike his companion. A clean-shaved face made the resemblance more pronounced than it would otherwise have been. There rested no shadow of care upon his open countenance. His eyes gathered in and reflected the light and languor of the summer day.

    Mrs. Pontellier reached over for a palm-leaf fan that lay on the porch and began to fan herself, while Robert sent between his lips light puffs from his cigarette. They chatted incessantly: about the things around them; their amusing adventure out in the water-it had again assumed its entertaining aspect; about the wind, the trees, the people who had gone to the Cheniere; about the children playing croquet under the oaks, and the Farival twins, who were now performing the overture to The Poet and the Peasant.

    Robert talked a good deal about himself. He was very young, and did not know any better. Mrs. Pontellier talked a little about herself for the same reason. Each was interested in what the other said. Robert spoke of his intention to go to Mexico in the autumn, where fortune awaited him. He was always intending to go to Mexico, but some way never got there. Meanwhile he held on to his modest position in a mercantile house in New Orleans, where an equal familiarity with English, French and Spanish gave him no small value as a clerk and correspondent.

    He was spending his summer vacation, as he always did, with his mother at Grand Isle. In former times, before Robert could remember, the house had been a summer luxury of the Lebruns. Now, flanked by its dozen or more cottages, which were always filled with exclusive visitors from the "Quartier Francais," it enabled Madame Lebrun to maintain the easy and comfortable existence which appeared to be her birthright.

    Mrs. Pontellier talked about her father's Mississippi plantation and her girlhood home in the old Kentucky bluegrass country. She was an American woman, with a small infusion of French which seemed to have been lost in dilution. She read a letter from her sister, who was away in the East, and who had engaged herself to be married. Robert was interested, and wanted to know what manner of girls the sisters were, what the father was like, and how long the mother had been dead.

    When Mrs. Pontellier folded the letter it was time for her to dress for the early dinner.

    I see Leonce isn't coming back, she said, with a glance in the direction whence her husband had disappeared. Robert supposed he was not, as there were a good many New Orleans club men over at Klein's.

    When Mrs. Pontellier left him to enter her room, the young man descended the steps and strolled over toward the croquet players, where, during the half-hour before dinner, he amused himself with the little Pontellier children, who were very fond of him.

    III

    It was eleven o'clock that night when Mr. Pontellier returned from Klein's hotel. He was in an excellent humor, in high spirits, and very talkative. His entrance awoke his wife, who was in bed and fast asleep when he came in. He talked to her while he undressed, telling her anecdotes and bits of news and gossip that he had gathered during the day. From his trousers pockets he took a fistful of crumpled bank notes and a good deal of silver coin, which he piled on the bureau indiscriminately with keys, knife, handkerchief, and whatever else happened to be in his pockets. She was overcome with sleep, and answered him with little half utterances.

    He thought it very discouraging that his wife, who was the sole object of his existence, evinced so little interest in things which concerned him, and valued so little his conversation.

    Mr. Pontellier had forgotten the bonbons and peanuts for the boys. Notwithstanding he loved them very much, and went into the adjoining room where they slept to take a look at them and make sure that they were resting comfortably. The result of his investigation was far from satisfactory. He turned and shifted the youngsters about in bed. One of them began to kick and talk about a basket full of crabs.

    Mr. Pontellier returned to his wife with the information that Raoul had a high fever and needed looking after. Then he lit a cigar and went and sat near the open door to smoke it.

    Mrs. Pontellier was quite sure Raoul had no fever. He had gone to bed perfectly well, she said, and nothing had ailed him all day. Mr. Pontellier was too well acquainted with fever symptoms to be mistaken. He assured her the child was consuming at that moment in the next room.

    He reproached his wife with her inattention, her habitual neglect of the children. If it was not a mother's place to look after children, whose on earth was it? He himself had his hands full with his brokerage business. He could not be in two places at once; making a living for his family on the street, and staying at home to see that no harm befell them. He talked in a monotonous, insistent way.

    Mrs. Pontellier sprang out of bed and went into the next room. She soon came back and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning her head down on the pillow. She said nothing, and refused to answer her husband when he questioned her. When his cigar was smoked out he went to bed, and in half a minute he was fast asleep.

    Mrs. Pontellier was by that time thoroughly awake. She began to cry a little, and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her peignoir. Blowing out the candle, which her husband had left burning, she slipped her bare feet into a pair of satin mules at the foot of the bed and went out on the porch, where she sat down in the wicker chair and began to rock gently to and fro.

    It was then past midnight. The cottages were all dark. A single faint light gleamed out from the hallway of the house. There was no sound abroad except the hooting of an old owl in the top of a water-oak, and the everlasting voice of the sea, that was not uplifted at that soft hour. It broke like a mournful lullaby upon the night.

    The tears came so fast to Mrs. Pontellier's eyes that the damp sleeve of her peignoir no longer served to dry them. She was holding the back of her chair with one hand; her loose sleeve had slipped almost to the shoulder of her uplifted arm. Turning, she thrust her face, steaming and wet, into the bend of her arm, and she went on crying there, not caring any longer to dry her face, her eyes, her arms. She could not have told why she was crying. Such experiences as the foregoing were not uncommon in her married life. They seemed never before to have weighed much against the abundance of her husband's kindness and a uniform devotion which had come to be tacit and self-understood.

    An indescribable oppression, which seemed to generate in some unfamiliar part of her consciousness, filled her whole being with a vague anguish. It was like a shadow, like a mist passing across her soul's summer day. It was strange and unfamiliar; it was a mood. She did not sit there inwardly upbraiding her husband, lamenting at Fate, which had directed her footsteps to the path which they had taken. She was just having a good cry all to herself. The mosquitoes made merry over her, biting her firm, round arms and nipping at her bare insteps.

    The little stinging, buzzing imps succeeded in dispelling a mood which might have held her there in the darkness half a night longer.

    The following morning Mr. Pontellier was up in good time to take the rockaway which was to convey him to the steamer at the wharf. He was returning to the city to his business, and they would not see him again at the Island till the coming Saturday. He had regained his composure, which seemed to have been somewhat impaired the night before. He was eager to be gone, as he looked forward to a lively week in Carondelet Street.

    Mr. Pontellier gave his wife half of the money which he had brought away from Klein's hotel the evening before. She liked money as well as most women, and, accepted it with no little satisfaction.

    It will buy a handsome wedding present for Sister Janet! she exclaimed, smoothing out the bills as she counted them one by one.

    Oh! we'll treat Sister Janet better than that, my dear, he laughed, as he prepared to kiss her good-by.

    The boys were tumbling about, clinging to his legs, imploring that numerous things be brought back to them. Mr. Pontellier was a great favorite, and ladies, men, children, even nurses, were always on hand to say good-by to him. His wife stood smiling and waving, the boys shouting, as he disappeared in the old rockaway down the sandy road.

    A few days later a box arrived for Mrs. Pontellier from New Orleans. It was from her husband. It was filled with friandises, with luscious and toothsome bits—the finest of fruits, pates, a rare bottle or two, delicious syrups, and bonbons in abundance.

    Mrs. Pontellier was always very generous with the contents of such a box; she was quite used to receiving them when away from home. The pates and fruit were brought to the dining-room; the bonbons were passed around. And the ladies, selecting with dainty and discriminating fingers and a little greedily, all declared that Mr. Pontellier was the best husband in the world. Mrs. Pontellier was forced to admit that she knew of none better.

    IV

    It would have been a difficult matter for Mr. Pontellier to define to his own satisfaction or any one else's wherein his wife failed in her duty toward their children. It was something which he felt rather than perceived, and he never voiced the feeling without subsequent regret and ample atonement.

    If one of the little Pontellier boys took a tumble whilst at play, he was not apt to rush crying to his mother's arms for comfort; he would more likely pick himself up, wipe the water out of his eves and the sand out of his mouth, and go on playing. Tots as they were, they pulled together and stood their ground in childish battles with doubled fists and uplifted voices, which usually prevailed against the other mother-tots. The quadroon nurse was looked upon as a huge encumbrance, only good to button up waists and panties and to brush and part hair; since it seemed to be a law of society that hair must be parted and brushed.

    In short, Mrs. Pontellier was not a mother-woman. The mother-women seemed to prevail that summer at Grand Isle. It was easy to know them, fluttering about with extended, protecting wings when any harm, real or imaginary, threatened their precious brood. They were women who idolized their children, worshiped their husbands, and esteemed it a holy privilege to efface themselves as individuals and grow wings as ministering angels.

    Many of them were delicious in the role; one of them was the embodiment of every womanly grace and charm. If her husband did not adore her, he was a brute, deserving of death by slow torture. Her name was Adele Ratignolle. There are no words to describe her save the old ones that have served so often to picture the bygone heroine of romance and the fair lady of our dreams. There was nothing subtle or hidden about her charms; her beauty was all there, flaming and apparent: the spun-gold hair that comb nor confining pin could restrain; the blue eyes that were like nothing but sapphires; two lips that pouted, that were so red one could

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1