The Awakening

By Kate Chopin

The Awakening, originally titled A Solitary Soul, is a novel by Kate Chopin, first published in 1899. Set in New Orleans and on the Louisiana Gulf coast at the end of the 19th century, the plot centers on Edna Pontellier and her struggle between her increasingly unorthodox views on femininity and motherhood with the prevailing social attitudes of the turn-of-the-century American South.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Enhanced Media Publishing
• Release date: Oct 29, 2016
• ISBN: 9781365239571

Kate Chopin

Kate Chopin (1850-1904) was an American writer. Born in St. Louis, Missouri to a family with French and Irish ancestry, Chopin was raised Roman Catholic. An avid reader, Chopin graduated from Sacred Heart Convent in 1968 before marrying Oscar Chopin, with whom she moved to New Orleans in 1870. The two had six children before Oscar’s death in 1882, which left the family with extensive debts and forced Kate to take over her husband’s businesses, including the management of several plantations and a general store. In the early 1890s, back in St. Louis and suffering from depression, Chopin began writing short stories, articles, and translations for local newspapers and literary magazines. Although she achieved moderate critical acclaim for her second novel, The Awakening (1899)—now considered a classic of American literature and a pioneering work of feminist fiction—fame and success eluded her in her lifetime. In the years since her death, however, Chopin has been recognized as a leading author of her generation who captured with a visionary intensity the lives of Southern women, often of diverse or indeterminate racial background.

Book preview

The Awakening and Selected Short Stories by Kate Chopin. First published in 1899. This edition published 2016 by Enhanced Media.

The Awakening

I

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

II

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

III

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

IV

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

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

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

Many of them were delicious in the role; one of them was the embodiment of every womanly grace and charm. If her husband did not adore her, he was a brute, deserving of death by slow torture. Her name was Adele Ratignolle. There are no words to describe her save the old ones that have served so often to picture the bygone heroine of romance and the fair lady of our dreams. There was nothing subtle or hidden about her charms; her beauty was all there, flaming and apparent: the spun-gold hair that comb nor confining pin could restrain; the blue eyes that were like nothing but sapphires; two lips that pouted, that were so red one could only think of cherries or some other delicious crimson fruit in looking at them. She was growing a little stout, but it did not seem to detract an iota from the grace of every step, pose, gesture. One would not have wanted her white neck a mite less full or her beautiful arms more slender. Never were hands more exquisite than hers, and it was a joy

Reviews for The Awakening

[dlayton_10 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

One of my favorite books of all time. The main character's search for identity and independence is wonderfully constructed. You yearn for her freedom and want her to be happy while also begging her to do the right thing for her family. Heavy symbolism runs throughout, but a very moving depiction of the stifling life of women.

[wyvernfriend · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Interesting series of victorian short stories based on in New Orleans.

[zoes_human · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

On the plus side, Chopin's work is feminist. While some of her stories may seem mild and unworthy of controversy in our time, they were utterly shocking in hers. Some, like "The Story of an Hour" and "The Storm", present ideas that are still considered deviant today. I believe these stories are still relevant.However, her work is also exemplary of white feminism. Repeatedly, the black characters are referred to not by name but by position and even more frequently by percent of blackness - the mulatto, the quadroon, etc. In "Désirée’s Baby", she raises the issue of the one-drop rule. Whereas some read the story as a statement on the ambiguity of race, I see no condemnation of racism but rather a statement on women paying the price for things more rightfully laid at the doorstep of men. While I would certainly not discourage anyone from reading her work, I think they should read it with eyes wide open to this aspect.

[abbeystombaugh · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

I didn't like this one very much.

[martha8700 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Started as a good read but totally disappointed me at the end. Well, if modern day married women had a life as Edna's, they would be at least joyful. Speaking for myself and I guess for millions of other women today, I have kids, husband, home and job to take care of. No servants, no nannies, no expensive gifts from husband and of course, not a single moment of spare time to myself. Literally, running all day long. On the contrary, Edna has servants to the house, a cook in the kitchen, nanny to her kids, money, and a lot of spare time. The choices that she makes, mostly regarding to her kids, simply made me angry.
This is not feminism but resignation...

[john_warner-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The plot of this American classic revolves around Edna Pontellier, the wife of a New Orleans businessman during the cusp of the 20th century, who feeling restrained by feminine social roles of the times and rebels in unorthodox ways.Imagine if Lucy and Ricky slept in the same bed during their 1950s sitcom. Although this book pales in comparison to today's nightly entertainment, it would have been considered risque for the time because of the social commentary, which is why it has been included on the banned book list. Although several archaic words had me checking the dictionary from time to time, the dated language interfered little in my enjoyment of this paragon of feminist literature.

[aliceanna-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A well-written thought-provoking book, particularly given the fact that it was published first in 1899. It is very understandable why this book was later re-discovered as it still seems very fresh. The attitude of this woman seems to be ahead of her time, which adds to the intrigue of the book. Plus it was very evocative of New Orleans. I could almost smell that City and I could certainly almost see it in her descriptions. My main problem, actually my only problem, with this book was the ending. Not because it was a tragic ending, but rather because she exhibits a belated concern for her children which she immediately throws out the window by killing herself. It was her relationship with her children in conjunction with her other decisions and actions that somehow didn't ring true. But it was still a wonderful surprise.

[mthelibrarian_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The Awakening? The ending is more like The Darkening (not to mention "The Hours" and "Madame Bovary.") My edition included some reviews from the 1899 publication date which were interesting. Even Willa Cather trounced the book at the end of her review. I've been meaning to read this one for years, though. Certainly the ending was a surprise.

[junesong · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I loved this book. Edna is such a bold character. It really shows the beginnings of marrying for love instead of money and social status. Even though it was wrong of Edna to leave her husband, Robert opened her mind to a different kind of love.

[porch_reader · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The theme for my book club this month was Choose Your Own Classic. I had lots of possibilities in mind, but didn't get one started until just a few days before the meeting. So, I found a list of classic novellas and chose [The Awakening] from that list. (I think that I'll read more from that list this year. I always intend to read more classics, but time gets away from me, so novellas seem like a good compromise.)One of the joys of reading a classic is being taken back to another time. Chopin does an amazing job of transporting her readers to the late 19th century. The novel chronicles Edna Pontellier's awakening during a vacation at a summer resort and later back in New Orleans. While her husband is focused on business and pays little attention to Edna, Edna develops a friendship with Robert Lebrun and begins to want more from life than she has found in her roles as wife and mother. Through telling Edna's story, Chopin not only provides a rich picture of life in the late 19th century, but also raises important questions about the discontent that comes with changing expectations. I didn't find the story itself that engaging, but I did appreciate Chopin's ability to use a year in Edna's life to illustrate the challenges faced by women at this point in history.

[lyzzybee · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Acquired via BookCrossing 16 Jul 2010 - donation to OBCZ from ex-library stockA classic of feminist writing which was decried in its late 19th-century day and only rediscovered in the 1960s, this is the story of a woman who finds family life too constricting; she engages in a series of flirtations and gradually prises herself out of the claustrophobic mould in which she has found herself, to seek emotional, financial and sexual freedom. But will she have to pay too high a price...? This is a very atmospheric book; the sea plays a huge role and life on the summer resort is evoked beautifully. The language is a little indirect but never confusing, and it's an interesting and though-provoking read.

[bookworm_naida · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Kate Chopin's The Awakening is one of my favorite pieces of literature and I thought it was finally time to re-read it. The New Orleans coastal setting during the nineteenth century is at the heart of this novella. Chopin sets the mood just right and as I read, I felt like I was in Louisiana by the coast. I could almost smell and hear the ocean. The story is about a woman named Edna Pontellier who is in her late twenties. Edna is a married mother of two small boys. Her husband Leonce gives her a seemingly satisfying lifestyle. Yet Edna is unhappy, often feeling restless and unfulfilled. As the story unfolds, Edna falls in love with a man named Robert Lebrun while on summer vacation at the Grand Isle resort in the Gulf of Mexico. She begins to awaken to feelings and thoughts within herself she never knew existed. In an attempt to resist temptation and heartache from an affair that can lead nowhere, Robert leaves abruptly for Mexico. When the summer is over, Edna and her family return to New Orleans. While Robert is gone, Edna misses him and finds herself beginning to feel even more dissatisfied. She begins to paint, considering herself an artist. Edna's husband leaves on a business trip and while he is away, she ends up moving out of their home and renting an apartment by herself. Edna meets a man named Alcée Arobin, who is known for his womanizing. She enjoys flirting with him and the two eventually have an affair. When Robert returns to New Orleans, he and Edna both confess their feelings for one another. At this point, Edna knows she no longer loves her husband and wants to be 'free'.I like how Kate Chopin broke convention and wrote stories that challenged the norm. Her stories dealt with issues that weren't openly accepted or spoken about when she was alive. In this story, a married woman decides she no longer wants to be tied down by her husband and even by her own children. She takes a lover and moves into her own apartment, all with no remorse. Although I didn't agree with Edna's behavior, I found myself almost mesmerized while reading Chopin's beautiful prose. "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. The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace."I admire how Chopin pushed the envelope. The ending is harsh and poignant and not something I would think the reader is expecting. The story that caused so much uproar in Chopin's day, is now considered a classic of feminist fiction. That counts for something.

[tpoi_2 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Early feminist work. Important but depressing.

[pennsylady · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I came to this book with a few criteria.The Awakening basically fulfilled my objective.The time period was late 19th century......The topic was controversial for the time....The writer was a woman----------------I might add, my e reader copy presented a nice biographical sketch of the authoras an addendum.3.5*

[agnesmack · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

It's hard to believe that The Awakening and Other Selected Stories was written in the 1880s. Not only is the story still incredibly relevant, but Ms. Chopin's writing has a bite to it that I haven't seen in the majority of her male contemporaries – let alone the women.The Awakening is a ~100 page novella which takes up about half of this collection. It's the story of a woman slowly realizing that she doesn't particularly care for being defined as a wife and mother. She'd rather have her own time, her own adventures and create her own heartbreaks. Which is exactly what she does.Chopin's stories are well known for being very controversial at the time they were published (and in fact many of them were not published until the '60s - not because they wouldn't have sold but because they were simply too racy) and it's not hard to see why. She writes about women who enjoy sex, women who cheat on their husbands and women who are generally bull-headed and willful.I enjoyed this collection not just because it was one of the first feminist texts, but because the writing was solid. I've read plenty of literature from the turn of the century and certainly it typically sounds like it. Aside from some interesting swear words, the writing in this collection was fresh enough that it could have been written much more recently.

[lynnb_64 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I read this book because I'd heard it was an early example of feminist literature. In that aspect, I was not disappointed. Writing in the late 1800s, Kate Chopin describes a young woman's dissatisfaction with her roles as wife and mother and wanting something different from what society expected her to want.As a novel, I thought the book was beautifully written. Edna Pontellier, the main character, was portrayed with great depth and in many ways, I identified with her sense of longing and questioning the cultural "givens" of her times. Her husband, Leonce, wasn't as richly portrayed, but I had some sympathy for him as well. After all, he too was trying to conform to the normes of his culture. I found him, at worst, benign, and not oppressive.In the end, the story left me depressed. I wish something other than a man had awakened Edna's need to examine her marriage. And most of all, I wish Edna had been able to enrich her life rather than end it.

[amandacb_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It's been a few years since I've read this, but my overall impression of it was very dreamlike. The entire (rather short) book felt like a dream sequence. Yes, it's depressing, but it's also very powerful and moving. Give it a read if you haven't done so!

[bookconcierge · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Edna Pontellier “awakens” during another summer spent with her husband and children on Grande Isle, LA. The sultry nights, the hypnotic lapping of the waves on the beach, the intoxicating scents and the attentions of one person in particular all combine to bring strength to Edna’s inner self. Slowly, she comes to feel that she has stifled the person inside her for her husband, her family and society. She is unable to fully explain what is happening to her, but she knows that she can no longer be untrue to herself.

I really enjoyed this novella. I could not help but think about Edith Wharton’s House of Mirth; I see so many parallels between Lily Bart and Edna. The time frame is similar (late 1890s), as is the inner turmoil of our heroine as she tries to make decisions about her life. While Edna is older than Lily, and has already achieved a measure of success in society (i.e. she has married well, has two charming children and a lovely home), she, like Lily, longs for something that will result in her removal from the society she knows.

The novella unfolds slowly, with limited dialogue, but a vivid sense of place. There is languorousness about the writing that mimics the languor felt on a hot and humid summer day on Grand Isle. Two scenes provide a perfect contrast and illustrate Edna’s awakening spirit. In one she sits with her husband on the veranda all night with scarcely a word between them and a palpable distance. In the other she spends an afternoon napping, while her friend Robert sits outside under a tree waiting; and despite the physical distance and lack of personal contact portrayed there is a palpable intimacy between them.

Without expressing her feelings exactly, the novel gave me insight into how Edna must have felt – excited by this new phase of her life, afraid to reveal how much it means to her, unsure she’s chosen wisely, full of regret, and finally accepting.

[dwsampson · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

Awfully dry and a chore to get through. We read this in a Literature class as an example of writing from a woman's perspective... but there are better examples of the female perspective. Opinions of this book seem to be pretty divided in my experience.

[mtlkch-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Loved it as much this time as the first time I read it in college.

[gypsysmom_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Sometimes the 1001 Books to Read Before You Die list surprises me with a great book that I had never heard of. Such was the case with this book.Published in 1899, The Awakening tells the story of Edna Pontillier, a young married woman with two sons. It opens in a resort in Grand Isle on the Gulf of Mexico where Mrs Pontillier and the boys are staying for the summer with Mr. Leonce Pontillier coming down from New Orleans on weekends. The owner's son, Robert Lebrun, falls in love with Edna and the feeling is reciprocated although there is no physical intimacy. Towards the end of the summer Robert leaves Grand Isle to seek his fortune in Mexico and Edna feels very depressed. Back in New Orleans Mrs. Pontillier stops involving herself in polite society and feels happier and free. Her husband goes to New York on a business trip and the boys are sent to their grandmother in Iberville so Edna is free to do as she likes. What she really wants to do is live with Robert but society would find that scandalous. Edna Pontillier is a prisoner of her times and, like Anna Karenina, she is made to suffer.As can be imagined this book was vilified by many reviewers when it came out. But I imagine a number of women probably read it and felt it spoke to them. The writing style is so evocative of the Deep South that I felt transported there. We spent a few days on Grand Isle last year and although I am sure it is far different from the 1890s when this story was set I too felt the langourous pleasure of that locale. It is a perfect setting for this story.

[gmillar_8 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I enjoyed this book. I didn't expect to. The language used and the character pictures painted were really good. The only thing that stopped me from another half star was the ending. I didn't see it coming so it was good from that aspect but it left me high and dry and unhappy. I guess that makes it good too, a good novel should extract emotion from the reader. However, this old romantic would have liked something a bit more positive.

[vikkilaw · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I read this book in either junior high or high school and, even though my circumstances were very different than the protagonist's, I identified so strongly with the feeling of being confined and restricted and just wanting to break free.

[varwenea · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Far, far ahead of its time, this absolutely incredible book addresses a woman’s trapped feelings in an era where, once married, she has little say in her choices, and her primary job is to do as told by her husband. For bringing to light the unspeakable possibility that a woman may not designed to be a wife, a mother, and the desire for true love, Kate Chopin was ostracized since the book’s publication in 1899, dying 5 short years later in 1904. Now, in my modern set of eyes, this work is easily a feminist trailblazer with Edna Pontellier seeking personal freedom. The novel begins with what seems to be an idyllic life of summer beach house, servants, and gifts. But clues of frustrations are sprinkled liberally in the pages including troubles with her husband. She breaks daily traditions, then settles into her own household, and establishes her own income. When she finds reciprocated love, it’s still a disillusion: “…you never consider for a moment what I think, or how I feel your neglect and indifference.” I honestly can’t tell if her love was a coward or being kind with: “Good-by, because I love you.” – Wtf. You decide. It may have been in a different era with different expectations to match, it’s still very relatable for anyone who are stuck in a situation and don’t know how to break free. The thoughts and emotions of Edna saddened me; her darkness penetrated me. Just because one is in a seemingly good life, it doesn’t mean one is happy. Edna describes “periods of despondency and suffering” – depression. In her own way, Chopin minced no words in her expressions, and it was abominable for 1899. (It was pulled from bookshelves!) Not everyone will agree with the ending, but for me, it’s understandable and hinted early on.Favorite Character: Mademoiselle Reisz – Described as “disagreeable”, she is likely blunt, which is a perfectly good trait. She is independent and has observant eyes for Edna’s evolving needs.Least Favorite Character: Robert Lebrun – Aforementioned coward… I hope he regrets what he did to her.Some Quotes:On the passionless husband:“… the Creole husband is never jealous; with him the gangrene passion is one which has become dwarfed by disuse.”On depression:“An indescribable oppression, which seemed to generate in some unfamiliar part of her consciousness, filled her whole being with a vague anguish.” On settling in marriage – this is cripplingly familiar:“She was a grown young woman when she was overtaken by what she supposed to be the climax of her fate. It was when the face and figure of a great tragedian began to haunt her imagination and stir her senses. The persistence of the infatuation lent it an air of genuineness. The hopelessness of it colored it with the lofty tones of a great passion…Her marriage to Leonce Pontellier was purely an accident, in this respect resembling many other marriages which masquerade as the decrees of Fate. …. He pleased her; his absolute devotion flattered her. She fancied there was a sympathy of thought and taste between them, in which fancy she was mistaken… The acme of bliss, which would have been a marriage with the tragedian, was not for her in this world. As the devoted wife of a man who worshipped her, she felt she would take her place with a certain dignity in the world of reality, closing the portals forever behind her upon the realm of romance and dreams.”On one-self and identity:“I would give up the unessential; I would give my money, I would give my life for my children; but I wouldn’t give myself. I can’t make it more clear; it’s only something which I am beginning to comprehend, which is revealing itself to me.”And“…he could not see that she was becoming herself and daily casting aside that fictitious self which we assume like a garment with which to appear before the world.”On awakening:“A certain light was beginning to dawn dimly within her – the light which, showing the way, forbids it.At that early period it served but to bewilder her. It moved her to dreams, to thoughtfulness, to the shadowy anguish which had overcome her the midnight when she had abandoned herself to tears. In short, Mrs. Pontellier was beginning to realize her position in the universe as a human being…On the confusion of love:“Does he write to you? Never a line. Does he send you a message? Never a word. It is because he loves you, poor fool, and is trying to forget you, since you are not free to listen to him or to belong to him.”On infatuation:“As Edna walked along the street she was thinking of Robert. She was still under the spell of her infatuation. She had tried to forget him, realizing the inutility of remembering. But the thought of him was like an obsession, ever pressing itself upon her. It was not that she dwelt upon details of their acquaintance, or recalled in any special or peculiar way his personality; it was his being, his existence, which dominated her thought, fading sometimes as if it would melt into the mist of the forgotten, reviving again with an intensity which filled her with an incomprehensible longing.”On strength:“The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice must have strong wings. It is a sad spectacle to see the weaklings bruised, exhausted, fluttering back to earth.”On not-being-owned:“You have been a very, very foolish boy, wasting your time dreaming of impossible things when you speak of Mr. Pontellier setting me free! I am no longer one of Mr. Pontellier’s possessions to dispose of or not. I give myself where I choose. If he were to say, ‘Here, Robert, take her and be happy; she is yours,’ I should laugh at you both.”I call this the blue pill, red pill:“…perhaps it is better to wake up after all, even to suffer, rather than to remain a dupe to illusions all one’s life.”

[jessika.c · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

WTF????? This book left me SHOOK. Also I guess I should add a trigger warning because Edna does struggle with not being able to see better days for herself and it did lead her to pick suicideEdna wants more out of life. After a vacation in the Mexican Gulf she goes home feeling unsatisfied with her role as dutiful wife and doting mother. Why? It all begins with an emotional affair she enters with a man named Robert Lebrun. When he sets off for Mexico Edna realizes how deep she is in her feelings for him and things just go downhill from there. Though Madame Adèle Ratignolle is a dear friend and a great role model to her she can't help but feel a stronger connection to Mademoiselle Reisz the type of woman she wishes she could've been.So this was part of the trifecta of IB/AP/Honors English Literature being swapped out from a pool of A Doll's House, Their Eyes Were Watching God, or I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. Every year the English teacher would choose three of those books to read and analyze and all that jazz except when it came time for my group to study three of them, Awakening was not a part of the trio. But I kind of wish it had beat out Doll's House that one was really annoying to analyze.Honestly, this book was really close to getting a two because of how annoying I found Edna Pontellier but then it ended. Okay so with that out of the way what did I like? For one, I liked the exposition into Edna's life. She didn't have it all that bad but it wasn't ideal either especially for a woman that clearly wasn't happy as a wife or mother. It rang true to life. Also her love affair with music was just as juicy as her love affair with Alcée Arobin. The symbolism of certain things were also clever to the point I kicked myself for not noticing where it was all heading.So why such a low rating? I hated Edna. Yeah, I know, a good feminist would feel a connection with Edna and her breaking gender roles and all that but she was so childish. I'm all for a self aware character that knows they are different from what society expects from them but Edna's reactions to certain situations drove me mad. Okay so she's shocked that Robert's leaving, I get it, but did she have to go insane about it? Her lover wants her but she tries to reject him only to pounce on him the next chance she got. Her sister's getting married and she doesn't want to go because REASONS. To me it just felt like an excuse the author picked to get her to be alone and able to have her first physically sexual awakening. At some point Madame Adèle Ratignolle calls her out on her behavior and I had to take a pause and really think about it. Is it a good thing because I wasn't wrong that it's exactly how she was behaving? Or have I been conditioned just as Mdm R to perceive Edna's behavior as such? SHOOK.Also, I didn't think Mr. Pontellier was all that bad either. He did seem to care for her wellbeing but again, have I just been conditioned to think Edna the bad guy here or was Mr. P really just one of those nice white guys that wants us to clap for him just because he's not a bad guy? But then again I really liked Robert but was it just because he was able to act on what he wanted which made him so likeable, unlike Edna who couldn't do anything because of societal norms? - clearly I wish this had been used in my time at school because I have a lot to say about this book. But I'm sorry I didn't like it more.

[kaydence_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I wouldn't have read this book without needing to for my class, but I wasn't completely disappointed. As a book that is influential in the women's movement of the early 1900s, it's not the worst. I really like the short stories by Kate Chopin, but the novel just doesn't seem to go anywhere. The awakening that the main character goes through is not as entertaining as it could have been. Also, it was very controversial during the time that it was written because of the affair that the main character has, but for today's standards it's not as shocking and therefore not as interesting.

[jacketscoversread · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The Awakening is a well-crafted, articulate novel that is considered a classic. {Why else would I be reading it for AP Literature?} But it’s a classic not only because it is considered to be one of the earliest feminist novels, but because this is feminist literature at its finest. Chopin’s story of a housewife who, feeling unhappy and unable to continue in her current course of action, takes the steps necessary to forever break the ties that bound her to the life she loathed, is way better than those with moaning, groaning, and a “whoa is me” mentality. A part of me, though, shutters to think that The Awakening is sold as a Feminist novel to students who are still working to define what Feminism is. Feminism does not involve throwing duty, responsibility, your marriage, and your children to the wind to go “find yourself.”I very much enjoyed Chopin’s writing style. I would be leisurely reading along, watching the plot develop, and then she would suddenly surprise me with a very profound statement about society, identity, or duty. If an author who wrote in 1899 can still connect with a reader of 2008, that’s skill. “I would give up the unessential; I would give my money, I would give my life for my children; but I wouldn’t give myself. I ain’t make it more clear; it’s only something which I am beginning to comprehend, which is revealing itself to me.” {pg. 80}The Awakening is also a very personal work. The novel is about Edna, not all women. It may raise questions about the identity of women and their role in society, but the novel is, ultimately, about Edna.Yet, what worries me about The Awakening is that it’s the first “Feminist” introduced to students, at least at my school. There’s no denying The Awakening is a Feminist text because it does challenge the vastly unquestioned (in 1899 and still, by some, today) belief that a successful woman must marry, have children, stay home, and love it. Edna is unsuited for and unhappy in this lifestyle, suggesting, very forcibly, that not all women are Adeles, beaming at their husbands and planning when to have their next child. {Two years apart at all times!}My problem is, in Edna, feminism takes the form of self-absorption. She throws duty out the window, and compassion and consideration too. She reaches the point where she lacks any consideration for others outside of what others can do for her. She cares only for herself.Apart of me can understand how a woman unfit for the domestic family life, under extreme pressure from society, can choose to hide away in herself but I fear that, rather than encouraging my fellow students awakening, it hinders it and they will dismiss Edna as mad. And that will only continue to lead to a feminism is bad mentality.

[daniellamarie29 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I absolutely fell in love with book when I first read it in 11th grade. I love Edna and her persistence to become independent from her family. She goes on to live by herself and leave her family behind, which was considered sacrilegious during Edna's life.

[tngolden_1 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

SHUDDER! Egads, I had to read this again and again in my undergrad literature career. Each time I found the main character not only unsympathetic, but revolting. Gah! And no, I'm not handing in my feminist card just because I hate this book!

[suzannepalmieri · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Probably one of the most important books I've read... and I always forget about it! Forced to read in high school I fell in love with literature. And then, re-read as an adult... as a writer... simply unforgettable. I turn to it again and again for work with transitions and scenery. Brilliant.