"The Awakening" by Kate Chopin, CHAPTERS 1-25

At a very early age -- perhaps it was when she traversed the ocean of waving grass-she remembered that she had been passionately enamored of a dignified and sad-eyed cavalry officer who visited her father in Kentucky.

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.

In the large and pleasant salon which extended across the width of the house, the Ratignolles entertained their



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friends once a fortnight with a soiree musicale,sometimes diversified by card-playing.

Mrs. Pontellier flew for the cologne water and a fan.

The sewing-machine made a resounding clatter in the room; it was of a ponderous, by-gone make.

"It seems to me the utmost folly for a woman at the head of a household, and the mother of children, to spend in an atelier days which would be better employed contriving for the comfort of her family."

She touched his hand as she scanned the red cicatrice on the inside of his white wrist.

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.

At that early period it served but to bewilder her.

The parrot and the



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mockingbird were the property of Madame Lebrun, and they had the right to make all the noise they wished.

He possessed a good figure, a pleasing face, not overburdened with depth of thought or feeling; and his dress was that of the conventional man of fashion.

She was not much given to reclining in the hammock, and when she did so it was with no cat-like suggestion of voluptuous ease, but with a beneficent repose which seemed to invade her whole body.

Arobin appeared nonplused, and asked Edna if there were any one else she cared to ask.

A quick vision of death smote her soul, and for a second of time appalled and enfeebled her senses.

He stirred the smoldering ashes till the broiled fowl began to sizzle afresh.

"Mercy!" exclaimed Edna, who had been fuming.

And she perambulated around the outside of the house, investigating, looking to see if windows and shutters were secure and in order.

Her older sister, Margaret, was matronly and dignified, probably from having assumed matronly and housewifely responsibilities too early in life, their mother having died when they were quite young, Margaret was not effusive; she was practical.

Her starched skirts crinkled as she came and went.

When Madame Lebrun complained that it was so dull coming back to the city; that she



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saw so few people now; that even Victor, when he came up from the island for a day or two, had so much to occupy him and engage his time; then it was that the youth went into contortions on the lounge and winked mischievously at Edna.

'If Mrs. Pontellier should call upon you, play for her that Impromptu of Chopin's, my favorite.

Her face was captivating by reason of a certain frankness of expression and a contradictory subtle play of features.

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The women were both of goodly height, Madame Ratignolle possessing the more feminine and matronly figure.

"What folly! to bathe at such an hour in such heat!" exclaimed Mr. Pontellier.

But his face was suffused with a quiet glow when he met her.

The air was invigorating and steadied somewhat her faculties.

"Where is Victor going with the rockaway?"

And he himself brought her the golden-brown bouillon, in a dainty Sevres cup, with a flaky cracker or two on the saucer.

She understood French imperfectly unless directly addressed, and the voices were only part of the other drowsy, muffled sounds lulling her senses.

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Chapter 6

VI

Edna Pontellier could not have told why, wishing to go to the beach with Robert, she should in the first place have declined, and in the second place have followed in obedience to one of the two contradictory impulses which impelled her.

"This is more than folly," he blurted out.

Mrs. Pontellier had brought her sketching materials, which she sometimes dabbled with in an unprofessional way.

She was flushed and felt intoxicated with the sound of her own voice and the unaccustomed taste of candor.

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Chapter 17

XVII

The Pontelliers possessed a very charming home on Esplanade Street in New Orleans.

She was growing accustomed to like shocks, but she could not keep the mounting color back from her cheeks.

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.

The dark green clusters glistened from afar in the sun.

They waited a good while under the orange trees, till Madame Antoine came back, panting, waddling, with a thousand apologies to explain her absence.

There were a few freckles on her face, and a small, dark mole near the under lip and one on the temple, half-hidden in her hair.

He had gone to bed perfectly well, she said, and nothing had ailed him all day.

She opened a bottle of



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beer which she found in the icebox.

A quick vision of death smote her soul, and for a second of time appalled and enfeebled her senses.

"Perhaps I feared to make Alphonse



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jealous," she interjoined, with excessive naivete.

Robert assisted her into the hammock which swung from the post before her door out to the trunk of a tree.

His wife was keenly interested in everything he said, laying down her fork the better to listen, chiming in, taking the words out of his mouth.

"Whenever you say the word I'm ready to thrash any amount of reason into him that he's able to hold."

Some young people were out under the water-oaks playing croquet.

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.

The only evil I couldn't prevent was to keep a broiled fowl from drying up."

Mrs. Pontellier talked about her father's Mississippi plantation and her girlhood home in the old Kentucky bluegrass country.

The sun was low in the west, and the breeze soft and languorous that came up from the south, charged with the seductive odor of the sea.

The Awakening
Chopin, Kate


About the print version


The Awakening
Kate Chopin pp. 1-303
Herbert S. Stone and Company
Chicago
1899
Note: The 1899 edition differs from the electronic text as follows: Page 271, line 1: hope that she ] hope she
Prepared for the University of Virginia Library Electronic Text Center.

Some one had gathered orange and lemon branches, and with these fashioned graceful festoons between.

Bah!" and she went shuffling and sidling on down the gallery toward her room.

The gulf looked far away, melting hazily into the blue of the horizon.

"What is it?" asked Pontellier, looking lazily and amused from one to the other.

She was boiling mullets over a few red coals in the huge fireplace.

Edna took him in her arms, and seating herself in the rocker, began to coddle and caress him, calling him all manner of tender names, soothing him to sleep.

His search has always hitherto been fruitless, and he has sunk back, disheartened, into the sea.

That summer at Grand Isle she began to loosen a little the mantle of reserve that had always enveloped her.

Seating himself in a wicker rocker which was there, he once more applied himself to the task of reading the newspaper.

Never were hands more exquisite than hers, and it was a joy to look at them when she threaded her needle or adjusted her gold thimble to her taper middle finger as she sewed away on the little night-drawers or fashioned a bodice or a bib.

Her older sister, Margaret, was matronly and dignified, probably from having assumed matronly and housewifely responsibilities too early in life, their mother having died when they were quite young, Margaret was not effusive; she was practical.

But that night she was like the little tottering, stumbling, clutching child, who of a sudden realizes its powers, and walks for the first time alone, boldly and with over-confidence.

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After Mrs. Pontellier had danced twice with her husband, once with Robert, and once with Monsieur Ratignolle, who was thin and tall and swayed like a reed in the wind when he danced, she went out on the gallery and seated herself on the low window-sill, where she commanded a view of all that went on in the hall and could look out toward the Gulf.

The gulf looked far away, melting hazily into the blue of the horizon.

Her manner was engaging.

The fish was scorched.

"Would you like a cup of bouillon?

Her glance wandered from his face away toward the Gulf, whose sonorous murmur reached her like a loving but imperative entreaty.

And when ordinary fellows like you



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and me attempt to cope with their idiosyncrasies the result is bungling.

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.

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.

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Chapter 18

XVIII

The following morning Mr. Pontellier, upon leaving for his office, asked Edna if she would not meet him in town in order to look at some new fixtures for the library.

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.

She was not very warmly or deeply attached to him, but they had certain tastes in common, and when together they were companionable.

With a writhing motion she settled herself more securely in the hammock.

But there was a cloth spread upon the table that stood against the wall, and a cover was laid for one, with a crusty brown loaf and a bottle of wine beside the plate.

"I was a little unthinking child in those days, just following a misleading impulse without question.

She had not much of anything to say to her father, for that matter; but he did not antagonize her.

Edna was a trifle embarrassed at being thus signaled out for the imperious little woman's favor.

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"Climb up the hill to the old fort and look at the little wriggling gold snakes, and watch the lizards sun themselves."

She could see their shortcomings and defects, which were glaring in her eyes.

"Ravishing!" he admitted.

Then the candor of the woman's whole existence, which every one might read, and which formed so striking a con



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trast to her own habitual reserve -- this might have furnished a link.

"Don't banter me," she said, wounded at what appeared to be his flippancy.

You have pretensions, Madame."

Two broad dormer windows looked out toward the Gulf, and as far across it as a man's eye might reach.

It was filled with friandises,with luscious and toothsome bits -- the finest



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of fruits, pates, a rare bottle or two, delicious syrups, and bonbons in abundance.

Mrs. Mortimer Merriman and Mrs. James Highcamp, who were there with Alcée Arobin, had joined them and had enlivened


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the hours in a fashion that warmed him to think of.

The girl held a geranium leaf up to her nose and said nothing, but looked knowing and noncommittal.

But her small boot heel did not make an indenture, not a mark upon the little glittering circlet.

She seated herself, for she was tired from her long tramp; and she began to rock gently and smooth out the



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folds of her silk parasol.

It was filled with friandises,with luscious and toothsome bits -- the finest



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of fruits, pates, a rare bottle or two, delicious syrups, and bonbons in abundance.

She was dressed in pure white, with a fluffiness of ruffles that became her.

The dark green of the branches stood out and glistened against the white muslin curtains which draped the windows, and which puffed, floated, and flapped at the capricious will of a stiff breeze that swept up from the Gulf.

She grew fond of her husband, realizing with some unaccountable satisfaction that no trace of passion or excessive and fictitious warmth colored her affection, thereby threatening its dissolution.

The old gentleman lifted his shaggy eyebrows, protruded his thick nether lip, and tapped the arms of his chair with his cushioned fingertips.

Whereupon Victor administered a rebuke in the form of a volley of abuse, which, owing to its rapidity and incoherence, was all but incomprehensible to Edna.

It fluttered the skirts of the two women and kept them for a while engaged in adjusting, readjusting, tucking in, securing hair-pins and hat-pins.

She grew daring and reckless, overestimating her strength.

For some reason she felt depressed, almost unhappy.

She has abandoned her Tuesdays at home, has thrown over all her acquaintances, and goes tramping about by herself, moping in the street-cars, getting in after dark.

He did not lead the way, however, he directed the way; and he himself loitered behind with the lovers, who had betrayed a disposition to linger and hold themselves apart.

The persistence of the infatuation lent it an aspect of genuineness.

Mr. Pontellier had the privilege of quitting their society when they ceased to be entertaining.

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.

"But for the fun of it," persisted Edna.

"Has she," asked the Doctor, with a smile, "has she been associating of late with a circle of pseudo-intellectual women -- super-spiritual superior beings?

The house was painted a dazzling white; the outside shutters, or jalousies, were green.

When the time came for her to go home, Mr. Highcamp grunted a lame offer to escort her, looking down at his slippered feet with tactless concern.

She did not perceive that she was talking like her father as the sleek geldings ambled in review before them.

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.

In the presence of others she expressed admiration for his exalted gifts, as she handed the photograph around and dwelt upon the fidelity of the likeness.

She beat the moss down impatiently, and muttered to herself sullenly.

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The Awakening


By KATE CHOPIN

Author of "A NIGHT IN ACADIE,"
"BAYOU FOLKS," Etc.
HERBERT S. STONE & COMPANY
CHICAGO & NEW YORK
MDCCCXCIX


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COPYRIGHT, 1899 , BY

HERBERT S. STONE & CO.

She had brought the pattern of the draw



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ers for Mrs. Pontellier to cut out -- a marvel of construction, fashioned to enclose a baby's body so effectually that only two small eyes might look out from the garment, like an Eskimo's.

Madame Ratignolle begged Robert to accompany her to the house; she complained of cramp in her limbs and stiffness of the joints.

He was in an excellent humor, in high spirits, and very talkative.

She had no desire to sleep or to retire; nor did she feel like going over to sit with the Ratignolles, or to join Madame Lebrun and a group whose animated voices reached her as they sat in conversation before the house.

He was an expert at concocting strong drinks.

Of course Edna would like to hear Mademoiselle Reisz play; but she feared it would be useless to entreat her.

Her most intimate friend at school had been one of rather exceptional intellectual gifts, who wrote fine-sounding essays, which Edna admired and strove to imitate; and with her she talked and glowed over the English classics, and sometimes held religious and political controversies.

But she died between summers; then Robert posed as an inconsolable, prostrating himself at the feet of Madame Ratignolle for whatever crumbs of sympathy and comfort she might be pleased to vouchsafe.

Two young girls, the Farival twins, were playing a duet from "Zampa" upon the piano.

In the lulls, Robert and his mother exchanged bits of desultory conversation.

"Why?" he asked; himself growing serious at his companion's solicitation.

The sun was low in the west, and the breeze soft and languorous that came up from the south, charged with the seductive odor of the sea.

Mademoiselle played a soft interlude.

It moved her to dreams, to thoughtfulness, to the shadowy anguish which had overcome her the midnight when she had abandoned herself to tears.

She was an American woman, with a small infusion of French which seemed to have been lost in dilution.

He walked down the gallery and across the narrow "bridges" which connected the Lebrun cottages one with the other.

The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.

Looking at them reminded her of her rings, which she had given to her husband before leaving for the beach.

It was very pleasant there on the side porch, where there were chairs, a wicker lounge, and a small table.

Of late he had sometimes held away from her for an entire day, redoubling his devotion upon the next and



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the next, as though to make up for hours that had been lost.

She rummaged in the larder and brought forth a slice of Gruyere and some crackers.

But the beginning of things, of a world especially, is necessarily vague, tangled, chaotic, and exceedingly disturbing.

She vacantly hummed a fantastic tune as she poked at the wood embers on the hearth and munched a cracker.

His attitude became one of good-humored subservience and tacit adoration.

Her face was captivating by reason of a certain frankness of expression and a contradictory subtle play of features.

Never had that lady seemed a more tempting subject than at that moment, seated there like some sensuous Madonna, with the gleam of the fading day enriching her splendid color.

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Chapter 1

I

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

"Allez vous-en!

And when ordinary fellows like you



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and me attempt to cope with their idiosyncrasies the result is bungling.

Never had that lady seemed a more tempting subject than at that moment, seated there like some sensuous Madonna, with the gleam of the fading day enriching her splendid color.

Edna wished to see the letter, and Madame Lebrun told her to look for it either on the table or the dresser, or perhaps it was on the mantelpiece.

She sought to detain them for a little



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talk and some pleasantry.

"It is nothing," she said aloud; "why did I not discover before that it was nothing.

Robert scanned the distance for any such apparition.

"You are too lenient, too lenient by far, Léonce," asserted the Colonel.

One piece which that lady played Edna had entitled "Solitude."

She told the cook that she herself would be greatly occupied during Mr. Pontellier's absence, and she begged her to take all thought and responsibility of the larder upon her own shoulders.

Mademoiselle had glided from the Chopin into the quivering love-notes of Isolde's song, and back again to the Impromptu with its soulful and poignant longing.

Never were hands more exquisite than hers, and it was a joy to look at them when she threaded her needle or adjusted her gold thimble to her taper middle finger as she sewed away on the little night-drawers or fashioned a bodice or a bib.

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.

They realized this, and so did Mr. Pontellier.

She was growing a little stout, but it did not seem to detract an iota from the grace of every step, pose, gesture.

His eyes gathered in and reflected the light and languor of the summer day.

It was filled with friandises,with luscious and toothsome bits -- the finest



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of fruits, pates, a rare bottle or two, delicious syrups, and bonbons in abundance.

Old Monsieur Farival was up, and was more than half inclined to do anything that suggested itself.

The walk to the beach was no inconsiderable one, consisting as it did of a long, sandy path, upon which a sporadic and tangled growth that bordered it on either side made frequent and unexpected inroads.

If her husband did not adore her, he was a brute, deserving of death by slow torture.

There was nothing subtle or hidden about her charms; her beauty was all there, flaming and apparent: the



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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 only think of cherries or some other delicious crimson fruit in looking at them.

"Of whom -- of what are you thinking?" asked Adèle of her companion, whose countenance she had been watching with a little amused attention, arrested by the absorbed expression which seemed to have seized and fixed every feature into a statuesque repose.

She had been properly dressed for the occasion in black tulle and black silk tights.

She somehow felt like a confederate in crime, and tried to look severe and disapproving.

But there was a breeze blowing, a choppy, stiff wind that whipped the water into froth.

Two young girls, the Farival twins, were playing a duet from "Zampa" upon the piano.

Their freedom of expression was at first incomprehensible to her, though she had no difficulty in reconciling it with a lofty chastity which in the Creole woman seems to be inborn and unmistakable.

She had possession of the rocker, and she was busily engaged in sewing upon a diminutive pair of night-drawers.

He opened a bottle of wine, of which he kept a small and select supply in a buffet of his own.

The quadroon nurse was looked upon as a huge encumbrance, only good to button up waists and panties and to brush and



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part hair; since it seemed to be a law of society that hair must be parted and brushed.

They were thick and almost horizontal, emphasizing the depth of her eyes.

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.

Edna took him in her arms, and seating herself in the rocker, began to coddle and caress him, calling him all manner of tender names, soothing him to sleep.

It stood in a small side room which looked out across a narrow grass plot toward the shed, where there was a disabled boat lying keel upward.

She began to set the toilet-stand to rights, grumbling at the negligence of the quadroon, who was in the adjoining room putting the children to bed.

She missed him the days when some pretext served to take him away from her, just as one misses the sun on a cloudy day without having thought much about the sun when it was shining.

Mr. Pontellier warmed up and grew reminiscent.

But she did not want to appear unamiable and uninterested, so she had brought forth newspapers, which she spread upon the floor of the gallery, and under Madame Ratignolle's directions she had cut a pattern of the impervious garment.

But the cavalry officer melted imperceptibly out of her existence.

It was growing late, and there was a general disposition to disband.

But with more feeling and discernment he would have recognized the noble beauty of its modeling, and the graceful severity of poise and movement, which made Edna Pontellier different from the crowd.

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.

But her small boot heel did not make an indenture, not a mark upon the little glittering circlet.

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Chapter 5

V

They formed a congenial group sitting there that summer afternoon -- Madame Ratignolle sewing away, often stopping to relate a story or incident with much expressive gesture of her perfect hands; Robert and Mrs. Pontellier sitting idle, exchanging occasional words, glances or smiles which indicated a certain advanced stage of intimacy and camaraderie.

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.

It was an improvisation.

The Creole woman does not take any chances which may be avoided of imperiling her health.

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

She was growing a little stout, but it did not seem to detract an iota from the grace of every step, pose, gesture.

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.

He had even invented some, to which he had given fantastic names, and for whose manufacture he required diverse ingredients that it devolved upon Edna to procure for him.

She laughed at Arobin's pretensions, and deplored Mrs. Highcamp's ignorance.

She changed her gown for a more comfortable and commodious wrapper.

After surveying the sketch critically she drew a broad smudge of paint across its surface, and crumpled the paper between her hands.

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

But as that lady had not been apprised of his intention of picking her up, she was not at home.

Mrs. Pontellier had brought her sketching materials, which she sometimes dabbled with in an unprofessional way.

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 had vanished.

She was a disagreeable little woman, no longer young, who had quarreled with almost every one, owing to a temper which was self-assertive and a disposition to trample upon the rights of others.

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."

The Awakening
Chopin, Kate


About the print version


The Awakening
Kate Chopin pp. 1-303
Herbert S. Stone and Company
Chicago
1899
Note: The 1899 edition differs from the electronic text as follows: Page 271, line 1: hope that she ] hope she
Prepared for the University of Virginia Library Electronic Text Center.

They jeered and sounded mournful notes without promise, devoid even of hope.

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.

She slipped them upon her fingers; then clasping her knees, she looked across at Robert and began to laugh.

Mrs. Pontellier talked about her father's Mississippi plantation and her girlhood home in the old Kentucky bluegrass country.

The lines of her body were long, clean and symmetrical; it was a body which occasionally fell into splendid poses; there was no suggestion of the trim, stereotyped fashion-plate about it.

But for that matter, the Creole husband is never jealous; with him the gangrene passion is one which has become dwarfed by disuse.

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Chapter 1

I

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

"Allez vous-en!

The recognition did not lessen the reality, the poignancy of the revelation by any suggestion or promise of instability.

He was unresponsive.

He walked down the gallery and across the narrow "bridges" which connected the Lebrun cottages one with the other.

The Colonel was perhaps unaware that he had coerced his own wife into her grave.

Edna dabbed the powder upon her nose and cheeks as she looked at herself closely in the little distorted mirror which hung on the wall above the basin.

He possessed a good figure, a pleasing face, not overburdened with depth of thought or feeling; and his dress was that of the conventional man of fashion.

She would, through habit, have yielded to his desire; not with any sense of submission or obedience to his compelling wishes, but unthinkingly, as we walk, move, sit, stand, go through the daily treadmill of the life which has been portioned out to us.

Music, dancing, and a recitation or two were the entertainments furnished, or rather, offered.

He was the only being present who possessed sufficient candor to admit that he was not listening to these gracious performances for the first time that summer Old Monsieur Farival, grandfather of the twins, grew indignant over the interruption, and insisted upon having the bird removed and consigned to regions of darkness.

She hoped that Edna would go to see her in the city, and wrote her address with the stub of a pencil on a piece of card which she found in her pocket.

Edna often wondered at one propensity which sometimes had inwardly disturbed her without causing any outward show or manifestation on her part.

He served her with no mean repast, dripping the coffee anew and sharing it with her.

Mrs. Pontellier gave over being astonished, and concluded that wonders would never cease.

He halted a moment and shrugged his shoulders.

Each house consisted of two compartments, and each family at Lebrun's possessed a compartment for itself, fitted out with all the essential paraphernalia of the bath and whatever other conveniences the owners might desire.

This may seem like a ponderous weight of wisdom to descend upon the soul of a young woman of twenty-eight --



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perhaps more wisdom than the Holy Ghost is usually pleased to vouchsafe to any woman.

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."

The sun was low in the west, and the breeze soft and languorous that came up from the south, charged with the seductive odor of the sea.

She held up



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her hands, strong, shapely hands, and surveyed them critically, drawing up her fawn sleeves above the wrists.

Madame Antoine seated her fat body, broad and squat, upon a bench beside the door.

There was nothing subtle or hidden about her charms; her beauty was all there, flaming and apparent: the



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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 only think of cherries or some other delicious crimson fruit in looking at them.

The parrot fortunately offered no further interruption to the entertainment, the whole venom of his nature apparently having been cherished up and hurled against the twins in that one impetuous outburst.

It was a large, double cottage, with a broad front veranda, whose round, fluted columns supported the sloping roof.

The boys were tumbling about, clinging to his legs, imploring that numerous things be brought back to them.

That summer at Grand Isle she began to loosen a little the mantle of reserve that had always enveloped her.

There were one or two men whom she observed at the soiree musicale;but she



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would never have felt moved to any kittenish display to attract their notice -- to any feline or feminine wiles to express herself toward them.

For a time she had the whole household enrolled in the service of art.

But she died between summers; then Robert posed as an inconsolable, prostrating himself at the feet of Madame Ratignolle for whatever crumbs of sympathy and comfort she might be pleased to vouchsafe.

She was dragging a chair in and out of her room, and at intervals objecting to the cry



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ing of a baby, which a nurse in the adjoining cottage was endeavoring to put to sleep.

The children all scampered off to the awning, and they stood there in a line, gazing upon the intruding lovers, still exchanging their vows and sighs.

As gently she repulsed him.

But the beginning of things, of a world especially, is necessarily vague, tangled, chaotic, and exceedingly disturbing.

She wore a cool muslin that morning -- white, with a waving vertical line of brown running through it; also a white linen collar and the big straw hat which she had taken from the peg outside the door.

It was a fixed belief with Madame Lebrun that the conduct of the universe and all things pertaining thereto would have been manifestly of a more intelligent and higher order had



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not Monsieur Lebrun been removed to other spheres during the early years of their married life.

With ingenuous frankness he spoke of what a wicked, ill-disciplined boy he had been, and impulsively drew up his cuff to exhibit upon his wrist the scar from a saber cut which he had received in a duel outside of Paris when he was nineteen.

He accepted the sunshade, and lifting it over his head descended the steps and walked away.

Beaudelet grumbled because Mariequita was there, taking up so much room.

She stood on the front veranda as he quitted the house, and absently picked a few sprays of jessamine that grew upon a trellis near by.

The acme. of bliss, which would have been a marriage with the tragedian, was not for her in this world.

She did not sit there inwardly upbraiding her husband, lamenting at Fate, which had directed her footsteps to the path which they had taken.

It was some utter nonsense; some adventure out there in the water, and they both tried to relate it at once.

At a very early age -- perhaps it was when she traversed the ocean of waving grass-she remembered that she had been passionately enamored of a dignified and sad-eyed cavalry officer who visited her father in Kentucky.

But that night she was like the little tottering, stumbling, clutching child, who of a sudden realizes its powers, and walks for the first time alone, boldly and with over-confidence.

How luxurious it felt to rest thus in a strange, quaint bed, with its sweet country odor of laurel lingering about the sheets and mattress!

He did not lead the way, however, he directed the way; and he himself loitered behind with the lovers, who had betrayed a disposition to linger and hold themselves apart.

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.

The Awakening
Chopin, Kate


About the print version


The Awakening
Kate Chopin pp. 1-303
Herbert S. Stone and Company
Chicago
1899
Note: The 1899 edition differs from the electronic text as follows: Page 271, line 1: hope that she ] hope she
Prepared for the University of Virginia Library Electronic Text Center.

Her face was captivating by reason of a certain frankness of expression and a contradictory subtle play of features.

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.

"Of course not; he knows you are with me," Robert replied, as he busied himself among sundry pans and covered dishes which had been left standing on the hearth.

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She might make the unfortunate blunder of taking you seriously."

It was easy to know them, fluttering about with extended, protecting wings when any harm, real or imaginary, threatened their precious brood.

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.

In the large and pleasant salon which extended across the width of the house, the Ratignolles entertained their



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friends once a fortnight with a soiree musicale,sometimes diversified by card-playing.

There was a soft effulgence in the east.

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That lady seemed at a loss to make a selection, but finally settled upon a stick of nougat, wondering if it were not too rich; whether it could possibly hurt her.

Several persons were talking at once, and Victor's voice was predominating, even over that of his mother.

She sought to detain them for a little



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talk and some pleasantry.

There was a friend who played upon the 'cello.

The moon was coming up, and its mystic shimmer was casting a million lights across the distant, restless water.

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.

She had brought the pattern of the draw



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ers for Mrs. Pontellier to cut out -- a marvel of construction, fashioned to enclose a baby's body so effectually that only two small eyes might look out from the garment, like an Eskimo's.

"Here, take the umbrella," she exclaimed, holding it out to him.

There were one or two men whom she observed at the soiree musicale;but she



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would never have felt moved to any kittenish display to attract their notice -- to any feline or feminine wiles to express herself toward them.

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.

Madame Ratignolle removed her veil, wiped her face with a rather delicate handkerchief, and fanned herself with the fan which she always carried suspended somewhere about her person by a long, narrow ribbon.

It is something to squander and throw to the four winds, for the fun of seeing the golden specks fly."

She answered in as light and bantering a spirit as she fancied it deserved, and said she would be glad to have him look in upon her at work whenever he felt the inclination and his business gave him the opportunity.

He resented the intrusion of the children, who gaped with wondering



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eyes at him, sitting so stiff up there in their mother's bright atelier.

The old gentleman, her father, I have heard, used to atone for his weekday sins with his Sunday devotions.

Will you get my white shawl which I left on the window-sill over at the house?"

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He responded at once by presenting himself at her home with all his disarming naivete.

They were for the most part dingy, but as they were nearly always open it did not make so much difference.

It was when the face and figure of a great tragedian began to haunt her imagination and stir her senses.

She vacantly hummed a fantastic tune as she poked at the wood embers on the hearth and munched a cracker.

She was flushed and felt intoxicated with the sound of her own voice and the unaccustomed taste of candor.

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"Climb up the hill to the old fort and look at the little wriggling gold snakes, and watch the lizards sun themselves."

The girl was deprecatory at one moment, appealing to Robert.

Edna tried to appease her friend, to explain.

"Shall I stay with you till Mr. Pontellier comes?" asked Robert, seating himself on the outer edge of one of the steps and taking hold of the hammock rope which was fastened to the post.

The lady in black, creeping behind them, looked a trifle paler and more jaded than usual.

Another piece called to her mind a dainty young woman clad in an Empire gown, taking mincing dancing steps as she came down a long avenue between tall hedges.

It was situated at the top of the house, made up of odd angles and a queer, sloping ceiling.

He stirred the smoldering ashes till the broiled fowl began to sizzle afresh.

Madame Ratignolle begged Robert to accompany her to the house; she complained of cramp in her limbs and stiffness of the joints.

When she and Robert stepped into Tonie's boat, with the red lateen sail, misty spirit forms were prowling in the shadows and among the reeds, and upon the water were phantom ships, speeding to cover.

They jeered and sounded mournful notes without promise, devoid even of hope.

The moon was coming up, and its mystic shimmer was casting a million lights across the distant, restless water.

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Mr. Pontellier finally lit a cigar and began to smoke, letting the paper drag idly from his hand.

"What is it?" asked Pontellier, looking lazily and amused from one to the other.

The long line of little gray, weather-beaten houses nestled peacefully among the orange trees.

Their voices were high and penetrating.

He offered no apology.

The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation.

Yet his presence, his manners, the warmth of his glances, and above all the touch of his lips upon her hand had acted like a narcotic upon her.

It seemed to free her of a responsibility which she had blindly assumed and for which Fate had not fitted her.

He was a man of forty, of medium height and rather slender build; he stooped a little.

She inhaled the odor of the blossoms and thrust them into the bosom of her



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white morning gown.

He had met her before on other occasions, but she had seemed to him unapproachable until that day.

A pretty dispute followed, in which Edna warmly espoused her father's cause and the Doctor remained neutral.

And that was he also in kilts, at the age of five, wearing long curls and holding a whip in his hand.

She felt moved to read the book in secret and solitude, though none of the others had done so, -- to hide it from view at the sound of approaching footsteps.

She could see the glint of the moon upon the bay, and could feel the soft, gusty beating of the hot south wind.

His beard was neatly and closely trimmed.

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During his oblivious attention he once quietly rested his head against Mrs. Pontellier's arm.

"I don't know whether I like you or not," replied Edna, gazing down at the little woman with a quizzical look.

Her husband noticed, and thought it was the expression of a deep filial attachment which he had never suspected.

"I wonder if Léonce will be uneasy!" she speculated, as she seated herself at table.

His face flushed with annoyance, and taking off his soft hat he began to beat it impatiently against his leg as he walked.

She was growing a little stout, but it did not seem to detract an iota from the grace of every step, pose, gesture.

The dark green of the branches stood out and glistened against the white muslin curtains which draped the windows, and which puffed, floated, and flapped at the capricious will of a stiff breeze that swept up from the Gulf.

He talked in a monotonous, insistent way.

Never had that lady seemed a more tempting subject than at that moment, seated there like some sensuous Madonna, with the gleam of the fading day enriching her splendid color.

But the very passions themselves were aroused within her soul, swaying it, lashing it, as the waves daily beat upon her splendid body.

Oftener than once her coming had interrupted the droll story with which Robert was entertaining some amused group of married women.

Robert started to reassure her, asserting that he had known a lady who had subsisted upon nougat during the entire -- but seeing the color mount into Mrs. Pontellier's face he checked himself and changed the subject.

He could see it plainly between the gaunt trunks of the water-oaks and across the stretch of yellow camomile.

"Yes, dear," he answered, with a glance following a misty puff of smoke.

If I thought there was any doubt -- "

"Oh, enough, Robert!" she broke into his heated outburst.

They had been permitted to sit up till after the ice-cream, which naturally marked the limit of human indulgence.

It was strange and unfamiliar; it was a mood.

There were days when she was unhappy, she did not know why, -- when it did not seem worth while to be glad or sorry, to be alive or dead; when life appeared to her



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like a grotesque pandemonium and humanity like worms struggling blindly toward inevitable annihilation.

But that night she was like the little tottering, stumbling, clutching child, who of a sudden realizes its powers, and walks for the first time alone, boldly and with over-confidence.

But there was a cloth spread upon the table that stood against the wall, and a cover was laid for one, with a crusty brown loaf and a bottle of wine beside the plate.

He was childishly gratified to discover her appetite, and to see the relish with which she ate the food which he had procured for her.

It was when the face and figure of a great tragedian began to haunt her imagination and stir her senses.

It did not seem half so amusing when told.

She played very well, keeping excellent waltz time and infusing an expression into the strains which was indeed inspiring.

They waited a good while under the orange trees, till Madame Antoine came back, panting, waddling, with a thousand apologies to explain her absence.

The sea was quiet now, and swelled lazily in broad billows that melted into one another and did not break except upon the beach in little



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foamy crests that coiled back like slow, white serpents.

She went down and led them out of the sun, scolding the quadroon for not being more attentive.

He pleased her; his absolute devotion flattered her.

Oftener than once her coming had interrupted the droll story with which Robert was entertaining some amused group of married women.

Robert is very well in a way, to give up all the money he can earn to the family, and keep the barest pittance for himself.

It was openly criticised and freely discussed at table.

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."

There rested no shadow of care upon his open countenance.

Sometimes she had gone into the kitchen to administer a tardy rebuke to the cook.

A youth, a mild-faced Acadian, was drawing water from the cistern, which was nothing more than a rusty buoy, with an opening on one side, sunk in the ground.

The quadroon nurse was looked upon as a huge encumbrance, only good to button up waists and panties and to brush and



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part hair; since it seemed to be a law of society that hair must be parted and brushed.

It was at his instigation that Mrs. Highcamp called to ask her to go with them to the Jockey Club to witness the turf event of the season.

The mosquitoes made merry over her, biting her firm, round arms and nipping at her bare insteps.

A characteristic which distinguished them and which impressed Mrs. Pontellier most forcibly was their entire absence of prudery.

"I said all along I was going to Mexico; I've been saying so for years!" cried Robert, in an excited and irritable tone, with the air of a man defending himself against a swarm of stinging insects.

Looking at them reminded her of her rings, which she had given to her husband before leaving for the beach.

And, moreover, to succeed, the artist must possess the courageous soul."

The very first chords which Mademoiselle Reisz struck upon the piano sent a keen tremor down Mrs. Pontellier's spinal column.

The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation.

It had crossed her thought like some unsought, extraneous impression.

And the youngest is something of a vixen.

She perceived that her will had blazed up, stubborn and resistant.

"Ravishing!" he admitted.

She was moved by a kind of commiseration for Madame Ratignolle, -- a pity for that colorless existence which never uplifted its possessor beyond the region of blind contentment, in which no moment of anguish ever visited her soul, in which she would never have the taste of life's delirium.

The water which the youth handed to them in a tin pail was not cold to taste, but it was cool to her heated face, and it greatly revived and refreshed her.

The shadows lengthened and crept out like stealthy, grotesque monsters across the grass.

His wife stood smiling and waving, the boys shouting, as he disappeared in the old rockaway down the sandy road.

The tears came so fast to Mrs. Pontellier's eyes that the damp sleeve of her peignoirno longer served to dry them.

"Could any one fathom the cruelty beneath that fair exterior?" murmured Robert.

How few of us ever emerge from such beginning!

The gulf looked far away, melting hazily into the blue of the horizon.

He stood close to her, and the effrontery in his eyes repelled the old, vanishing self in her, yet drew all her awakening sensuousness.

"The sight of a wound or scar always agitates and sickens me," she said.

Feeling secure regarding their happiness and welfare, she did not miss them except with an occasional intense longing.

The air was invigorating and steadied somewhat her faculties.

Madame Lebrun might be offended if we both stayed away."

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Chapter 10

X

At all events Robert proposed it, and there was not a dissenting voice.

Madame Ratignolle removed her veil, wiped her face with a rather delicate handkerchief, and fanned herself with the fan which she always carried suspended somewhere about her person by a long, narrow ribbon.

Mr. Pontellier was too well acquainted with fever symptoms to be mistaken.

I never was so exhausted in my life.

He assured her the child was consuming at that moment in the next room.

He could not explain; he could not tell her that he had penetrated her mood and understood.

The walk to the beach was no inconsiderable one, consisting as it did of a long, sandy path, upon which a sporadic and tangled growth that bordered it on either side made frequent and unexpected inroads.

She had absolutely no taste in dress, and wore a batch of rusty black lace with a bunch of artificial violets pinned to the side of her hair.

The voices went on -- Tonie's slow, Acadian drawl, Robert's quick, soft, smooth French.

There were other children beside,


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and two nurse-maids followed, looking disagreeable and resigned.

If her talent had been ten-fold greater than it was, it would not have surprised him, convinced as he was that he had bequeathed to all of his daughters the germs of a masterful capability, which only depended upon their own efforts to be directed toward successful achievement.

She beat the moss down impatiently, and muttered to herself sullenly.

The walk to the beach was no inconsiderable one, consisting as it did of a long, sandy path, upon which a sporadic and tangled growth that bordered it on either side made frequent and unexpected inroads.

Unfortunately she had mislaid or lost Mademoiselle Reisz's card, and looking up her address in the city directory, she found that the woman lived on Bienville Street, some distance away.

It would have been unacceptable and annoying.

The sewing-machine made a resounding clatter in the room; it was of a ponderous, by-gone make.

The dark green of the branches stood out and glistened against the white muslin curtains which draped the windows, and which puffed, floated, and flapped at the capricious will of a stiff breeze that swept up from the Gulf.

The action was at first a little confusing to Edna, but she soon lent herself readily to the Creole's gentle caress.

He had regained his composure, which seemed to have been somewhat impaired the night before.

She did not remonstrate, except again to repulse him quietly but firmly.

It moved her with recollections.

Her most intimate friend at school had been one of rather exceptional intellectual gifts, who wrote fine-sounding essays, which Edna admired and strove to imitate; and with her she talked and glowed over the English classics, and sometimes held religious and political controversies.

The iron bars were a relic of the old regime,and no one had ever thought of dislodging them.

Before her pencil he sat rigid and unflinching, as he had faced the cannon's mouth in days gone by.