The general plot of “Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin is important to the metaphorical meaning of the new day for women approaching. At the beginning of the story the reader is presented with a female character who is treated quite typically for the time; she has a condition that makes those around her fear for her health and thus she is treated like a child whom they fear leaving alone as she might succumb in a physical way to her emotions. Secondly, no one outside of the confines of her room might guess that after the initial wave of shock and tears, she looks outside to see new life budding and humming all around her. This realization of a world outside of her window awakens her to the host of possibilities offered by the outside world as she is now free, both “body and soul, free!” In short, the main character, after only a short spell of shock over the death of her husband, looks outside with what appear to be new eyes at the life that surrounds her outdoors.

This new life, this bright blue sky offers promise of a new day both for the main character and, in terms of a larger metaphor, this fresh new day is the dawn of a new century when women are able to have control of their lives and live for themselves according to their own passions. However, although she can see and understand the meaning of the now fresh outside world, the fact that she is still cloistered in behind a window is important in a metaphorical sense as it means that she is not out taking it in just yet—it is still not within her reach despite the clarity of her view.

The trajectory of the plot of “Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin further emphasizes the fact that the possibility of rebirth offered by the spring day just outside is still just a vision rather than a reality because not only is she still viewing it behind glass, he comes back home as if nothing happened. Not only is she merely glimpsing the possibility of rebirth from behind the glass of a window—an “elixir of life” that she still cannot quite breathe in, the fact that it is all false hope delivers a rather hopeless message to counter the many hints at hope for a new day.

In short, this is a story about a vision for the coming century for women rather than a story representing the arrival of that new day. She dies, not because she is so overjoyed as the final lines might suggest, but, as the reader might imagine, because of the shock of finally seeing her entrapment fully at the moment she realized the extent of its existence.

Grotesque and the truth he embraced became a falsehood” (para. 14). While this observation may seem fatalistic, many people who have lived long enough might be willing to concede that there is at least a small grain of truth in this philosophy.

It is in O’Neill’s “The Hairy Ape,” however, that the sense of isolation and naturalistic fatalism is most evident. Compared to Crane’s and Anderson’s works, “The Hairy Ape” is certainly the bleakest of the three. Yank, who has been obsessed with experiencing a sense of belonging throughout the play, loses his grip on reality and sanity as he realizes that he never really fits in with other people or surroundings. O’Neill’s naturalism is blatant, and his attitude about humanity is rather dismal. O’Neill does not merely put Yank in touch with his base and primitive self; he all but converts Yank into a beast by guiding him to the primates’ cage at the zoo. Yank can only experience the empathy and identification that he has yearned for so deeply by offering that empathy to the ape. As Yank begins to talk to the ape, the stage directions indicate that “YANK begins to talk in a friendly confidential tone, half-mockingly, but with a deep undercurrent of sympathy” (Scene 8, ll. 5-6). The sympathy soon turns into “genuine admiration”  (Scene 8, l. 10), but then Yank becomes so lost in his own misery that the ape senses his rage and restlessness, and responds in kind. The gorilla crushes Yank cruelly, throwing him to the ground, where Yank dies. It is not only the finality of the death that makes this tale the bleakest; rather, it is that Yank was not able to experience any profound understanding of his condition or, more importantly, how to change his situation. He allowed himself to be completely subjected to his environment, rather than making his environment his subject.

“The Open Boat,” “Winesburg, Ohio,” and “The Hairy Ape” are all bleak stories that convey an attitude of naturalistic determinism that is so rigid it borders on the utterly fatalistic. Crane, Anderson, and O’Neill all seem to contend that humans are almost entirely subject to their conditions, circumstances, and environments. The correspondent in Crane’s “The Open Boat” and the old man in Anderson’s “Winesburg, Ohio,” however, are able to wring some small lesson, even if it’s almost too late, from their ordeals and observations. By contrast, in “The Hairy Ape” there is no such psychological transformation. Man is completely subject to his circumstances, seemingly born into bad luck and fated to die with bad luck and poor insight into himself and others. The sense of isolation among the characters, and that which is provoked in the reader, is profound. The authors do not, however, rescue the reader from that solitary sense of despair by offering a neat ending. It is up to the reader to discern the lessons buried in the grim stories and to apply them in his or her own life.

Works Cited

Anderson, Sherwood. “Winesburg, Ohio.” Retrieved April 1, 2007 from http://www.bartleby.com/156/

Crane, Stephen. “The Open Boat.” In The Norton Anthology of American Literature, Shorter  Sixth Edition. Ed. Nina Baym. 1721-1738. New York: W.W. Norton, 2003.

O’Neill, Eugene. “The Hairy Ape.” Retrieved April 1, 2007 from http://www.eoneill.com/texts/ha/contents.htm

The main conflict in Chopin’s The Awakening is a woman’s needs to have the right to express herself and live freely versus the expectations of Victorian society and it’s narrow definitions for what a woman should and should not do. This conflict is developed throughout the book as the narrator tells the tale of Edna’s “awakening” or Edna’s process of awakening or realization that she does not fit into (nor wants) part of the Victorian expectations placed upon her. This happens in a series of stages during which Edna moves increasingly farther away from societal norms of the Victorian era.

One of the first ways the conflict is developed after Edna has realized that she is unhappy and wants to be free is her action of spending time with her friend, Robert, whom she falls in love with. Even though he leaves, she has made her decision to live a more free life and she moves into her own apartment away from her husband and children and takes a lover. There are serious conflicts at this point between Victorian society and she is judged harshly and condemned by almost everyone. This conflict leads her to eventually grow depressed and aware that she will never be completely able to escape the expectations laid upon her. She is constantly wavering between her concerns for her own self-development and realization and the more petty concerns of what others around her think and how she is perceived. This conflict is never fully resolved. The way the main character chooses to resolve it is by wading into the ocean to commit suicide but in many ways, this is more like her giving up battling this conflict rather than working to resolve it. Still, the only reasonable way to state there is a resolution is by saying that story is resolved when she decides that she cannot make the crucial balance between her own ideals and the conventions of society.

In Kate Chopin’s novel, The Awakening, the main character, Edna, has three distinct personality traits that define her throughout the book. One of her most noticeable traits is her irresponsibility, especially in regards to how she treats her children and husband. Related to this trait is her capacity to be childish, particularly in terms of how she allows her emotions to sweep her away as well as her inability to think about the potential consequences of her actions. Her third and most prominent personality trait—the one that forms the backbone of the story’s conflict, is Edna’s willingness to defy social conventions, particularlyin terms of gender roles, and norms. All three of these traits are consistent throughout the novel and while the character does change by the end, these aspects never disappear.

Most of the novel is focused on Edna’s growing realization that she feels separated from the ideals of the Victorian era and how she manages to escape them by striking out on her own to live as an artist. Although this is an admirable action, she is completely irresponsible in how she goes about it. Even though she has a husband and children, she leaves them as soon as she discovers her passion and does not give any real thought to them after that point in the novel. Even from the beginning of the text though, it is clear that she is not always the most responsible mother. She lets her children wander off with the nanny and does not always heed the signs when they are ill. As the narrator states in one of the important quotes from “The Awakening” by Kate Chopin,“She was fond of her children in an uneven, impulsive way. She would sometimes gather them passionately to her heart and sometimes forget them” (24). She treats her husband in the same way since as soon as she realizes her dream to live independently, she leaves him without much of a thought. What makes Edna’s character trait of irresponsibility only that (as opposed to purposeful neglect or crassness) is that she sees her quest to discover herself as something of the highest importance. She still wishes to maintain a good relationship, especially with her children, but her trait of irresponsibility does not permit this.

In addition to being irresponsible, Edna is also very childish. These two are different traits because whereas the irresponsibility has to do with her not following through on her obligations to her family, her childishness is more related to her emotional immaturity. She has the habit of letting her emotions get the best of her and they often cloud reality and make her prone to irresponsible behavior. The narrator frequently alludes to Edna’s childishness and in one particular instance, when she was overwhelmed with emotions as Edna begins the process of awakening, when entering the water says she was a, “tottering, stumbling, clutching child, who of a sudden realizes its powers, and walks for the first time alone, boldly and with over-confidence” (32). Her childishness, especially in terms of her emotions, is also manifested when she experiences things that evoke great sensory responses in her, such her friend’s piano playing. When she is exposed to something she finds beautiful or illuminating, she lets it take control of her senses and emotions without regard to any consequences. This character trait is thus related to her irresponsibility since oftentimes it is her childish response that prompts her to irrational or irresponsible actions. Like a child, she blindly follows her desires without thinking about what might come next.

Edna’s most admirable (although most trouble-causing) personality trait is her willingness to go against powerful social conventions. As a Victorian woman there are many expectations on Edna, especially in terms of how she should treat her husband, children, and other community members. She is brave in the face of these traditional roles, especially after she realizes that she is unhappy with her life. As a result she commits acts that would be unthinkable for most women of the day including taking a place of her own, leaving her children and husband, and keeping a lover. It is difficult sometimes to reconcile Edna’s irresponsibility and childishness with her admirable trait of unconventionality but it is clear that this is what makes her such an exciting character. Out of all the other female characters in the book, she is the one who is making the greatest statement against the prudishness of Victorian society and at times this makes her less commendable traits acceptable.

All three of the Edna’s character’s traits remained present throughout the book and none of them changed significantly. In fact, the ending is tragic partly because she was not able to learn to balance her responsibilities, capacity to act childishly, and her desire for freedom. In the end, she walks into the ocean, committing suicide because she realizes that she cannot make compromises in her personality. Her most important trait of living outside of normal society is the one that leads her to her final decision. What makes this ending so surprising is that generally at the end of a novel, the main character has learned something or had an epiphany and sacrifices a negative personality trait as a result. In The Awakening, however, this does not occur as it is character traits that define the course of what happens.

It is nearly impossible to completely separate the text and the character of Edna from the author of “The Awakening,” Kate Chopin. The feminist ideas presented in The Awakening begin as mild sentiments but as the story progresses these suggestions of women’s empowerment become full-blown declarations, especially as Edna begins to awaken. Although one can certainly argue whether Edna was a noble or exemplary early feminist—or if she was merely a selfish woman who chose the easy path in the end—the text is valuable outside of the sheer literary aspect.

“The Awakening” contains a great deal of revealing information about the nature of gender relationships in the Victorian era and thus is able to define its feminine response by first detailing the setting from which it spawned. While one could suggest that Chopin was in fact a Victorian feminist ahead of her time, especially when one considers other stories by Kate Chopin, as by the end of the story categorizing this work in any way (as feminist or pro-Victorian) would be a mistake because of the complex nature of the period it is set in. A reader may not understand or like Edna and while many find her selfish and rash (and even manic-depressive) it is important to draw together the clues about her society, especially in terms of gender relations and standards to see what she was rebelling against before judging her. As a side note, it should be remembered that Chopin had enjoyed great success as a writer of “local color” stories that dealt mildly with issues of gender and sexuality but that “The Awakening” did not receive the great praise of her other, more “tame” stories. She died only a few years after the publication and subsequent ill reception of the story of Edna’s awakening and in this sense, it hard to separate Chopin from her female heroine.

 Chopin had been raised in an intellectually open environment and was less familiar with the typical marital relationships of the Victorian era than many of her contemporaries. This set her apart as a unique, but ultimately too potent writer in a literary period that had not yet awakened to the more modern notions of feminism. Overall, for the purposes of this study, the fine line between author, narrator, and heroine is crossed and it seems useless to view this work as independent from the author’s most intense convictions. To make her points about the role of women in Victorian society, Chopin often presents a model of a certain ideal of the Victorian age and then offers the antithesis. In many cases the “model” is Madame Ratignolle or another “domestic goddess” and the antithesis of her is most certainly Edna.

To offer contrast to Edna’s rebelliousness in domestic and social affairs in “The Awakening” by Kate Chopin, there are a number of brief scenes, almost like paintings or a series of tableaux that are clean, direct reminders of how far the protagonist has strayed from her assigned duties as wife and mother as well as, on a much grander scale, the conventions of Victorian society. More often than not these reminders are expressed through glimpses into the world of Madame Ratignolle who is, unquestionably, the symbol of wifely perfection in Chopin’s story. Through these contrasts in domestic duty many of the central themes of the text are explored and the finer points of Victorian masculinity, femininity, social obligation and structure, and familial relationships are more fully developed. Admittedly, “The Awakening” concentrates, as per the title, on Edna’s awakening or rebirth into her “true” self but there are a number of other comments Chopin offers about these varies themes and it is impressive that so many ideas about the whole of life can be expressed through these images rather than direct character dialogue or narration.

Consider for example scenes that depict a distanced view of Madame Ratignolle and the images she represents. In one of the important quotes from “The Awakening” the narrator says, “She stood watching the fair woman walk down the long line of galleries with the grace and majesty which queens are sometimes supposed to possess.  Her little ones ran to meet her.  Two of them clung about her white skirts, the third she took from its nurse and with a thousand endearments bore it along in her own fond, encircling arms.  Though, as everybody well knew, the doctor had forbidden her to lift so much as a pin” (27). This image, while fleeting and apparently used only to establish setting is filled with a number of insights into Victorian ideals of femininity. Mme. Ratignolle is the quintessential “mother-women” the text directly states Edna is not (22). Here we see from a distance, a woman in white with a great height and grace who may at first seem like a queen or other independent figure. The entrance of children who “cling to her skirts” as she lavishes kind words upon them and opens her arms to receive them overshadows this grace. She is at once like the Virgin Mary and Mother Earth—the symbol of piety (since she conforms to domestic/religious ideals of Victorian society) while also “the salt of the earth” as she is referred to as at one point in the text. It becomes apparent later in the text that she would be willing to sacrifice her life for her children, thus she is Holy Mother, Mother Earth, and Martyr clad in white—as pure as the Victorian ideals of her setting. Even with this seeming strength in bearing and being surrounded by her young, she is still appropriately vulnerable as she is not to “lift a pin” as per the doctor’s requests. Therefore, throughout “The Awakening” by Kate Chopin we have the picture of the ideal turn-of-the-century woman (although quite possibly not in the author’s eyes)—strong enough to bear children yet weak enough to be the pets of man.

This cycle of imagery repeats throughout “The Awakening”; women who conform to the Victorian domestic ideal are described in the most romanticized manner and their interactions with their children and husbands seem almost angelic to the narrator. One must wonder, however, how much irony Chopin is interjecting when she states in one of the important quotes from “The Awakening” by Kate Chopin, “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” (22). These “mother-women” are described as angels but one must wonder if the fluttering wings are more like those seen in the opening sentence—the fluttering wings of a caged bird that grows tiresome and is able only to speak in repeated sentences. Here the clever irony and subtle word-play of Chopin is visible at its finest and although there is no real way to tell if there was something malicious in equating the caged parrots with the “ministering angels” it makes for fine fodder in the overall question of what the ideal Victorian woman should represent.

The reader—even from the postmodern feminist viewpoint—might view this as a symbol of absolute female perfection and ecstasy, Edna feels the exact opposite. Instead of her interactions being highlighted through short romanticized images, her interaction with her children as described in the text is perfunctory and without any of the same imagery or associations invoked by the “pictures” of Mme. Ratignolle. Her thoughts take precedence over images, “She was fond of her children in an uneven, impulsive way.  She would sometimes gather them passionately to her heart; she would sometimes forget them.  The year before they had spent part of the summer with their grandmother Pontellier in Iberville.  Feeling secure regarding their happiness and welfare, she did not miss them except with an occasional intense longing.  Their absence was a sort of relief, though she did not admit this, even to herself.  It seemed to free her of a responsibility which she had blindly assumed and for which Fate had not fitted her” (24). Instead of being offered with images of her children, the reader is left only to imagine these fleeting moments of mother-child interaction. Unlike with the idealized relationships of Mme. Ratignolle, much of Edna’s raising of her children is out of necessity (tucking them in, scolding, etc.) and these events are minor parts of the story, only occasionally supplemented by her internalization of motherhood.

In the society represented in “The Awakening” it is clear that mothers who stray from the codified patterns of married female behavior are subject to the disapproval of their husbands. It is also clear that the husbands in the text, particularly Edna’s, feel it is necessary to intervene in the “sphere of woman” to make judgments of their profession as mother and wife. In her husband’s relationship with Edna there seems little question of his devotion to her, but one cannot ignore the pressing issue of economics that continually crops up anytime he finds himself dissatisfied with his wife. ““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, who’s 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” (31). Certainly gendered divisions of labor were the norm in Victorian society and it was considered a woman’s profession—her employment—to take care of the home and children. As evidenced in the text, if a woman (Edna, at least) were to fall short of the job requirements, she would get a reprimand from her overseer, her boss—her husband. The Colonel, Edna’s own father, reinforces this masculine duty in his son-in-law when he encourages him to apply practical business skills to domestic strife. He encourages, “You are too lenient, too lenient by far, Leonce,” asserted the Colonel.  ‘Authority, coercion are what is needed. Put your foot down good and hard; the only way to manage a wife.  Take my word for it.” The idea that a wife should be managed as if an employee is an interesting insight into the late Victorian times especially in terms of the growing middle class and the dominance of industry, thus more capital. While much of the talk of the women is focused on the domestic, the men’s is centered in commerce, thus marriage itself is merely a part of the large world of trade, economics, and business generally.  

Edna’s process of self-discovery in The Awakening by Kate Chopin takes place in a series of three significant stages that eventually lead to the death of Edna at the conclusion. Before Edna begins to discover herself, she is caught between her desires to explore herself and her desires more fully and the realities of Victorian womanhood and life. It is not until the first major event in her awakening; the combination of music and a baptismal swim in the ocean that she finally awakens to a much deeper form of self-awareness.

At this point in the plot after this magical night she is reborn and begins to shed her identity as a typical “mother-woman” and begins to develop her interests and desires more fully. She rashly gives up her home and husband and in a second major contribution to her awakening, moves into a home of her own and engages in an affair through which she can explore herself sexually as well as creatively. Her awakening occurs rapidly and she falls so deeply into the process that her third and final awakening—the realization that she cannot completely attain her desires without taking responsibilities and the demands of society into account—is too much for her to handle. She reenters the sea, the original place of her baptism into self-understanding in an attempt to cleanse herself of her frustrated desires. In many ways, Edna’s awakening is not a gradual or even natural process since it takes place so quickly. Like a child, Edna gives into her desires to live according to the new thoughts spurred by her awakening but is too hasty in her decisions. At the end of The Awakening Edna is left with the feeling that she could never attain what she has imagined herself to be and thus the sad and frustrating conclusion ensues.

Even before the process of her awakening, Edna was not like the other women to be found at Grand Isle. She possessed a deep inner life, one that was not necessarily wrapped up in the usual domestic concerns that so engrossed Adele. At the beginning of the novel there is considerable attention given to the concept of “mother-women” and how Edna is already significantly different from these types. According to the narrator in one of the important quotes from “The Awakening” by Kate Chopin, “They were women who idolized their children, worshipped their husbands, and esteemed it a holy privilege to efface themselves as individuals and grow wings as ministering angels” (638). For Edna, this is not a fulfilling role and although she does seem to love her children, she finds peace outside of the home and within her own thoughts. It is also worth noting that before her awakening she is beginning to notice her husband’s treatment of her.

After her husband returns from a trip while she has spent the day testing out the feelings of freedom she experiences with Robert, she remarks on the “indescribable oppression, which seemed to generate in some unfamiliar part of her consciousness, [and] filled her whole being with a vague anguish” (637). The reader cannot help but feel that this oppressive feeling is related to her husband and the dull life she feels is before her. For her husband, Edna is a possession, something that belongs to him and something that should fulfill the narrow but confining roles it has been assigned. He scorns her lack of attention to the children and scolds her for her “habitual neglect” (637) of the children. Furthermore, at the beginning of the story, even before the reader has truly met Edna, he sees that she has grown sunburned and “looked at his wife as one looks at a valuable piece of personal property that has suffered some damage” (635). When she goes out on the porch and feels the oppression and the vague sense of despair, it can be reasonably assumed that it is these pressures which are pushing her over the edge.

 Combined with the new freedom being with Robert offers and her growing sense of self-awareness, these problems with her life become more glaring to her. Before she enters the ocean and hears Mademoiselle Reisz play her magical music, the narrator alludes to a growing awakening by stating, “A certain light was beginning to dawn dimly within her—the light which, showing the way, forbids it” (642). This light is that of truth and the promise of self-discovery, or as the narrator continues, “In short, Mrs. Pontellier was beginning to realize her position in the universe as a human beings, and to recognize her relations as an individual to the world within and around her” (642). The early chapters detail her life within Victorian society’s birdcage (for women at least) and how she begins to see that there is a way for her to spread her wings and fly.

On one night of her stay at Grande Isle, her first major awakening occurs as a result of two events. First, when she hears the music of Mademoiselle Reisz, her imagination runs away from her and a series of images of freedom comes to her mind.

She imagines a naked man being left by a wandering bird; a strikingly raw image for a Victorian woman to have and one symbolic of the kind of beauty and freedom she wishes to attain. For Edna, “The very first chords which Mademoiselle Reisz struck at the piano sent a keen tremor down [her] spinal column…. Perhaps it was the first time she was ready, perhaps the first time her being was tempered to take an impress of the abiding truth” (653). The narrator of “The Awakening” by Kate Chopin is alluding to the idea that her thoughts up until this moment of music have all been leading to a realization of her own freedom and where her happiness lies. This musical experience then emboldens her to finally swim for the first time, the second event that contributes to her powerful first awakening. The reader gets the distinct impression that her first swim is the “baptism” for her awakening as she is literally born again. The narrator of “The Awakening” by Kate Chopin describes her not as a strong and thinking woman but as a “tottering, stumbling, clutching child, who of a sudden realizes its powers, and walks for the first time alone, boldly and with over-confidence” (654). Like when she hears the music on the piano, her mind becomes free of its usual patterns and she is allowed to use her brain to maximum capacity and revel in her newfound sense of freedom.

“As she swam she seemed to be reaching out for the unlimited in which to lose herself” (654) the narrator states, and although this speaks volumes about the further elements of her awakening it also alludes her suicide because eventually she does :lose herself” in the unlimited. After this event, she is no longer the old Edna who is still a victim of Victorian demands, but she is renewed and reborn. As she lay on outside after the night the narrator states, “Edna began to feel like one who awakens gradually out of a dream, a delicious, grotesque, impossible dream, to feel again the realities pressing into her soul” (657). These realities are her love for Robert, her husband and children, and the numerous other demands of Victorian womanhood. Still, after this first awakening she is able to spend a glorious day away from the island with Robert and takes up painting with renewed vigor. She is literally a new woman after this experience.

When Robert leaves for Mexico, she is left alone with her new understanding of self-awareness and for some time does not seem to know what to do with it. As the narrator explained in one of the important quotes from “The Awakening” by Kate Chopin, “For the first time she recognized anew the symptoms of infatuation which she felt incipiently as a child” and without Robert, her further awakening is intensely self-involved. It is at this point, when the family returns to the city, that manifestations of her awakening at Grand Isle become apparent. Much to the dismay of her husband, she stops attending and holding perfunctory social obligations at the family home and she becomes increasingly involved with her painting. To the doctor, who comes at the behest of her husband, Edna is not suffering from an illness but appears as, in an important quote from “The Awakening” as “some beautiful, sleek animals waking up in the sun” (687). She has been transformed not only in her own eyes but those of others. This wild image of a strange beast stays with the reader, especially as there is a latent note of animal sexuality behind it that will later emerge in her affair with Alcee.

The second major part of her awakening comes with her removal to her own house and her affair with Alcee because it is the most socially observable act of her defiance and freedom. Now she is able to explore her repressed sexuality in a setting that allows her to be free and this leads to her understanding of herself as a female and sexual being. More importantly than this, however, is the house itself as a symbol of her freedom and new awakening to herself. In the pigeon-house, “there was a feeling of having descended in the social scale, with a corresponding sense of having risen in the spiritual. Every step which too toward relieving herself from obligations added to her strength and expansion as an individual” (706). Although one could easily suggest she is like the selfish child Adele tells her she is, the fact remains that moving to a space of her own completes Edna’s sense of identity. She is no longer surrounded by her husband’s possessions but by a place she has carved out for herself. In such a place she is free to explore her sexuality and creativity. In essence, it is a place where she can live out her fantasy of being an independent woman. The problem with this, however, is that she cannot ignore society completely, nor can Robert.

When Robert shows back up in her life, Edna behaves much like the mythical phoenix. She has risen to such great heights, carried on the wings of her newfound creativity and hopes that Robert will return. When it turns out, however, that he is unwilling to abandon the pressures of society, Edna is crushed—she has flown too close to the sun and is now irreversibly burnt and damaged. For the first time in the haze of her awakening she realizes that it is impossible for her to live outside of society completely, to be herself and have what she dreams of, and it is this that eventually leads her to commit suicide. Robert reminds Edna that despite how free she might feel, “you were not free; you were Leonce Pontellier’s wife” (717). This begins the cycle of thought that reminds her that no matter how much she may want to be free and live the life of her dreams, there is no escaping reality. Even when she makes her way down to the beach for the last time, she thinks of her earthly responsibilities. “The children appeared before her like antagonists who had overcome her; who had overpowered and sought to drag her soul to slavery for the rest of her days” (722). Her only way to elude them (and the countless other responsibilities of her life) was to drown herself in the ocean. In many senses, Edna’s suicide is the result of her final awakening—that she has been unable to balance a sense of self and freedom with the demands of life. Her feet, despite her best efforts, straddled two words; one of the lone artist and seeker and the other the Victorian woman enamored with society and the home. Since she could not create a balance or allow herself to live one life over the other completely, her only choice was suicide. Her awakening happened almost too quickly and her actions as a result of it were too hasty and brash. The only way to cleanse herself of both worlds was to enter the sea—the site of her baptism into awakening.

Source

Chopin, Kate. “The Awakening.” Norton Anthology of American Literature. New York: W.W. Norton, 2003. 633-722

The title of Kate Chopin’s novella, The Awakening, suggests birth, rebirth, and life, and indeed, the main character, Edna Pontellier, experiences a slow but increasingly powerful emotional and physical awakening as she comes to know herself. The scenes in “The Awakening” by Kate Chopin during which the already complex character of Edna (full character analysis) learns more about herself are powerful and significant and are metaphors for life and death as well as presented as direct representations. Through her understanding of new ideas and a closer connection with who she is, she begins to understand what friendship, creativity, and freedom are, and how they can enrich one’s existence dramatically, infusing it with a lust for life that is characterized by intensity, expression, and connection with oneself and others.

Despite all of the positive aspects of the awakening Edna experiences, there are several metaphors and metaphorical allusions to death, which remains on of the most powerful presences in this classic tale of a woman’s journey to know herself. In Chopin’s hands, death, either as a metaphor in “The Awakening” or through its actual existence, is always just a step away, becomes a metaphor for impossibility in The Awakening, symbolizing a variety of losses and frustrated desires, both tangible and abstract. Edna, unable to step off of what she terms in one of the important quotes from “The Awakening” by Kate Chopin as the “treadmill of life which has been portioned out to us,” decides to forego life altogether, cutting off all possibilities for living any of her dreams (39).

When the reader first meets Edna Pontellier, he or she gets the sense that Edna is living a life of the walking dead and she is thus, in many ways, a metaphor in herself. Throughout “The Awakening” Kate Chopin is adept at creating such characters to underscore the limitations imposed upon women by society and to explain how such constrictions prevent women from knowing themselves, forging deep and authentic relationships with others, and connecting to and expressing their creativity and their sexuality. The metaphor of the walking dead then extends to encompass larger issues about how women walked through their lives during the time period in which Chopin was writing. Women in the stories of Chopin, especially those with a sensitive or creative spirit such as that possessed by Edna, were effectively dead because they were forced to turn off their emotions and exist for family and husband.

Although Edna is described by the narrator as having a “manner [that] was engaging,” she is also portrayed as slightly naïve and listless and the metaphor of her being a child is, for the first time of many, raised. (4). She is married, but she does not seem to have a satisfying relationship with her husband. For his part, her husband, Leonce, is annoyed that she “evince[s] so little interest in things which concerned him and value[s] so little his conversation” (6). Edna does not appear to be desperately unhappy in her marriage; however, she does appear to be distant and bored, largely because her husband is away so often. Although it is not marked by deep conflict, their marriage is dying slowly, and will continue to do so as Edna metaphorically awakens to herself and realizes how satisfying true love and companionship can be. This is just one of the many deaths in The Awakening.

]]> //www.articlemyriad.com/plot-summary-story-hour-chopin/ Sun, 27 Nov 2011 02:14:41 +0000 //www.articlemyriad.com/wordpress/?p=1541 Other essays and articles in the Literature Archives related to this topic include :  The Awakening by Kate Chopin: The Process of Edna’s Awakening •  Gender and Social Criticism in The Awakening by Kate Chopin  •    Character Analysis of Edna in “The Awakening” and Discussion About Conflict & Climax   •   American Literature in Historical Context : 1865 to Roosevelt   •  Death as a Metaphor in “The Awakening” by Kate Chopin

The omniscient narrator of “Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin immediately informs the reader that the main character, Mrs. Mallard suffers from heart trouble, thus revealing to her that her husband died will have to be done with great care. Her sister, Josephine is the one selected for the task as her husband’s friend, Richards stands by as he was the one who double-checked and made certain that Mr. Mallard’s name, Brently, was on the list of those killed in the railroad accident.

Interestingly, the main character, Mrs. Mallard does not, as the narrator says in one of the important quotes from “Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin, “hear the story as many women have heard the same, with a paralyzed inability to accept its significance” but instead she wails with “wild abandonment” and steals away to be alone in her room, shunning her sister and slumping into one of her armchairs in a state of shock. At this point one would expect her to be hysterical, but instead, she sits facing the open window and for a moment just feels hollow before suddenly noticing the world outside. It is spring and the world outside of her window is buzzing and alive. She notices that the trees “were all aquiver with the new spring life” and this marks a turning point in “Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin as the main character looks outward and begins to realize something important about her life.

The new day outside has completely absorbed the attention of Mrs. Mallard and while she still sobs occasionally, “as a child who has cried itself to sleep [and] continues to sob in its dreams” she is nonetheless completely taken with the outside world. She is finally described by the narrator of “Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin as being “young, with a fair, calm face” and the reader imagines her sitting. The plot of “Story of an Hour by Kate Chopin” is clearly shifting as Mrs. Mallard suddenly realizes what is troubling and begins to whisper the words, “free, free, free” as she sees that her life can be her own now. In one of the most important quotes from “Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin, the narrator says that at this moment, “she saw beyond that bitter moment a long procession of years to come that would belong to her absolutely. And she opened and spread her arms out to them in welcome” as it becomes clear that her husband, who she only loved “sometimes” is gone and her life is hers, season after season.

Another important passage to this effect reads that, at this new point, “there would be no powerful will bending hers in that blind persistence with which men and women believe they have a right to impose a private will upon a fellow creature.” For those interested, this moment in “Story of an Hour” is almost exactly a parallel with the moment Edna in another short story by Kate Chopin, “The Awakening”leaves her husband and realizes with sudden and intense clarity that her life is her own and calls into question gender issues of the Victorian era and how they are repressive to women.

This thoughtful section of the plot of “Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin gives way to her sister, Josephine, knocking on her door, breaking her train of thought. She is worried about her health and urges her to come downstairs. She does so and suddenly, her husband walks in the door—he knew nothing of the railroad disaster. The main character dies at the conclusion of “Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin, of, as the narrator says, “a joy that kills” which is not to be taken literally, but instead means that his oppressive weight is back. She has seen the light and the shock of going back to that old life is too much. Although some could probably argue for a more literal interpretation of the ending of “Story of an Hour” by Kate Chopin, it seems clear, given the overall meaning and themes in “Story of an Hour” that she did not die of happiness.