animated marginalia

Thanks for posting the story, Elissa. Here are some of my initial thoughts: In response to your question, despite my high view of marriage, I think Chopin succeeds in making Mrs. Mallard a sympathetic character. At the same time, Chopin evokes horror at a woman who would rejoice in a good husband's death. While at first glance these two reactions seem to be the antithesis of each other, I think they are totally dependent upon one another: conflict and complexity is where we are aiming. You feel conflicted, understanding her joy in being free, yet being horrified at that joy. From what I remember of other works I've read by Chopin, she brings out the complexity of a woman's role in her society. She is meant to sacrifice all for home and family - yet she feels independent, longs for independence, and in Chopin's novels, acts on that independence. I think any young woman, even today, still feels that tension. While we are intelligent and capable enough to fill almost any role in society, we still feel the responsibility and pull to the home. And it's a good pull. But you still wonder where else you could be carried. There's a tension. And there's a balance. What that balance is... I'm sure I'll work it out someday...

What a delightfully nasty piece. I really adore this kind of front-parlor psychological reversal -- the refined horror story. The last two paragraphs are perfect. So cold, almost smirking.

But did I find Mrs. Mallard sympathetic? I think the question is actually whether I found the writing effective -- I'm a big authorial intent guy, and Chopin is playing here for a sort of distant empathy: There but for the grace of God goes dear reader. The clue is in the way Mrs. M tries to swallow down the realization of freedom; it's an emotion that, Chopin suggests, lies beyond morality -- and therefore must be valid. A smart trick, and I felt it worked. It worked because when Mr. M wanders in the door, I felt horror. Jackpot.

Alright, but how did I feel as a Christian male with a similtaneously jaundiced and romanticized view of marriage (a single guy, in other words)? I felt the usual: sympathy for the longing for freedom -- it's no fun to be trapped in anything, especially in a relationship -- along with my typical frustration with people (usually, and don't shoot me for saying so, women) who define their own happiness through other people. If I disliked Mrs. M at all, it was for letting her husband's life and death determine her state of mind. If anything, here is her "heart trouble": she's auctioned the fate of the organ to some railroad guy. That I find this incomprehensible probably says as much about my view of marriage as anything.

It is nasty, isn't it?

Thanks, Rebekah and Aaron! I appreciate your thoughtful responses. After reading this story for the first time, my initial response was one of annoyance with Mrs. Mallard. If she felt stifled, then why not be a little more proactive, say something to her husband, or you know, sell stuff on e-bay to make an extra paycheck. That's where I especially agree with you, Aaron. Still, I *do* think that such a reaction fails to adequately account for the immense social pressure on women at the time.

I need to find an older -- 70 or above -- woman to read Chopin's story. I wonder if a more personal experience with very limited, very specific societal pressures would affect how the reader relates to Mrs. M.