Não navego bem nestas águas e a personagem central, a nossa despertada Edna, não me cativou de todo. Achei-a frívola e muito egoísta. As 3 estrelinhas são pela coragem de Kate Chopin ao abordar, há mais de cem anos, temas proibidos, como a sexualidade feminina e o suicídio. Se o livro fosse escrito hoje, levava nega...

It's interesting to read an end-of-the-century novel from the opposite side of the intervening twentieth century, for though there is in Chopin's novel no preoccupation with the remorseless cycle of measured time, the intervening hundred years--and all their evolutions, both cultural and literary--are going to be part of the modern reader's context.

Be aware: this is somewhat spoilery.

As the novel unfolds, it is very difficult to like Edna Pontellier. In these days of two paychecks being required just to survive, on top of the endless drudgery of housework, car maintenance, and children's needs, Edna's dissatisfaction with a life of social engagements, fine dinners that she did not have to prepare or clean up after, and congenial hours of just sitting about on porches chatting idly, make it very hard for a modern reader to sympathize with her.

While she is obsessed with her perceived bonds of slavery, she spares not one thought to the nameless women of color who labor unceasingly in the background doing the drudge work that is an inescapable part of daily existence. The woman who appears to be the primary caretaker of Edna's two boys is not even vouchsafed a name; she is dismissed as "the quadroon," a racial epithet that relegates her to an importance somewhere beneath parlor furnishings, which are at least noticed by callers.

Chopin's evocative depiction of life in Louisiana a hundred years ago is fascinating both for the differences and for the moments that resonate with our own experience. Adele Ratignole's childbirth scene, with its pain and emotional intensity. The ability of children then, as now, to invent games on the dusty ground. Sitting through an amateur theatrical. The sensory details, and the emotional dynamics resultant all transmit that spark of verisimilitude--the scents of flowers. The stickiness of clothing in hot weather. How musical artistry stabs through our primal emotions like a hiltless knife. The moment of realization when the warmth of friendship kindles into lust.

The novel's overarcing theme appears to be self-discovery, but it reads to me more like self-involvement. Restless, emotionally stifled Edna is "awakened" first by Madamoiselle Reisz's music, and then by a midnight swim when she dares, for the first time, not to wade, but to strike out into the dark waters and test that elusive nexus between heightened physical endeavor and death.

Her desire to free herself from all her perceived shackles of wifedom and motherhood veer when she discovers, belatedly, her lust for Robert Lebrun, and again when she forsakes the serene, generous, but ambitionless friendship of Adele Ratignolle. She tells Robert that she loves him; he responds in kind; in a desperate act of martyred honor Robert leaves, and Edna shrugs off the world and takes another swim, this one toward the eternal darkness.

It is interesting that Edna's very last images are not of any of her putative loved ones, but of vivid and unconnected sensory details--The spurs of the cavalry officer clanged as he walked across the porch. There was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air. Throughout the novel the presence of solitary lives wink in and out like fireflies: the parrot, the quadroon, Madamoiselle Reisz; even the lovers, who are never named, nor do they interact with anyone else in their total mutual absorption.

Edna connects with four different people, two men and two women, however ephemerally. Each of the four is connected to the rest of their community through a different thread of the lacework of life: Adele and Robert as mother and gentleman, respectively, of society; Madamoiselle Reisz as the artist, and Arabin as the sensualist.

All four live the lives they want to live, the latter two as singles, Robert as a son and brother, and Adele as wife and mother. It is Robert and Adele who, as members of the community, each make sacrificial acts: Robert in leaving to save his and Edna's reputations (he leaves twice) and Adele through childbirth.

Each act is painful, each is a necessity to sustain the implied greater good of the community. Madame Reisz leads an independent existence, having everything she wants except (it is implied) sex. It is she who encourages Edna to "take flight" and though she speaks in terms of art, one wonders if in fact the spinster is encouraging Edna to give her the vicarious thrill of passion that she, old and ugly, desires. She certainly knows what it is that Edna wants--as does Adele, who tries to save Edna from cutting herself off from all the other presumed connections of her life in order to satisfy this illicit desire. And of course Arabin represents the life of illicit desire, never responsible, mostly shunned, with no permanent connections outside of the endless quest for gratification.

It appears that the illicit aspect of Edna's desires is the driving force behind her quest. She tries one thing after another, from wandering about the streets as long as she likes to gluttonous eating and adultery, and then abandons them all. She can't be bothered with anything that requires self discipline--not in watching over her children, or communicating with her husband, or even painting.

From the perspective of one who was young during the sixties and seventies, it is not surprising that this novel experienced a rebirth of interest during that period. It seems, looking back, that alienation and self-absorbed behavior were idealized during that time; novels and movies featured young singles who rejected everything but the pursuit of pleasure, and found that meaningless as well.Existentialist angst seemed the raison-d'etre of all art, because life was meaningless, and females felt the shackles of fifties expectations: we were supposed to be Doris Day, conforming to a cheerful dedication of our lives to a male, who would in turn provide house, car, and children.

Nowadays we would call her behavior dysfunctional, and Edna certainly is a vivid portrayal of a dysfunctional woman. Despite Chopin's mendaciously casual dismissal of her heroine in her response to the novel's critical rejection as "working out her own damnation" one suspects that Chopin really did admire her heroine. All those reminders of how attractive she was in others' eyes; the firm auctorial intrusion not permitting the reader any sympathy with Mr. Pontellier and his "worship of his household gods"--though it is he who spends the most energy in trying to understand his wife, to communicate with her, and to make her happy. It is he who has the strongest bond with the children, though the culture by that time had already disengaged fathers from active parenting--except in punishment and economic control. The culminating moment of the book is Edna's dinner party, where she is perceived as Aphrodite, the goddess of love--an ironic observation about a woman who doesn't seem to have been capable of real love.

This is not to say that the novel doesn't work. In fact, it is so well written that it functions on numerous levels, as a slice-of-regional life historical piece, and as an exercise is stylistic brilliance. As a cautionary tale during the early part of this century, when the nascent women's movement was beginning to build up enough speed to cause cultural resistance. As a tale of alienation and self-absorption for the young adult reader, who is often alienated and self-absorbed, as it was for a period in our own recent history when such tales enjoyed their literary eclat. As a tale of dysfunction for contemporary readers, who are engaged in examing the literature of the past so as to find a way to redefine our own roles--gender roles, family roles, community roles--for the future.

Reread: May 2022. Holds up conclusions the same.

Kate Chopin (1850-1904) não deixou para a posteridade uma mão cheia de livros, mas deixou um que, só por si, vale pelas duas mãos cheias.O Despertar passa por entre os pingos da chuva, mas é um livro que vale a pena (aliás, vale a galinha inteira).
A história da Edna é a história de uma mulher oprimida, solitária - até depressiva, arriscar-me-ia a dizer - que descobre que pode ser independente, que se recusa a ser reduzida às meras condições de esposa, dona de casa e mãe, que procura o sentido da vida e, sobretudo, que 'desperta'.
Após a publicação deste livro, em 1899, que tanta polémica causou (um bocadinho à semelhança de Madame Bovary), Chopin viu a sua vida social e literária andar pelas ruas da amargura. Só umas décadas mais tarde se reconheceu efetivamente a qualidade e importância do livro. É uma pena que os artistas continuem a morrer antes de verem os seus talentos reconhecidos.

One thing I try with all my soul not to do is judge others for their reading tastes. It's been done to me and I hate it.

that being said I was unprepared for the hate from so many for this shining jewel of a book. I understand everyone's tastes are unique. But -- and perhaps I should change my wording -- I guess I was not prepared for the hate for the protagonist.

I liked her. I felt I understood her. I pitied her, deeply. I sort of ached for her.

Now here is the problem. I cannot do a review without spoilers. It's impossible to discuss this story without talking of the ending.

So if you have not read and do not want spoilers -- stop reading mt review now. I will however recommend this beauty of a book.

SPOILERS:

Why was everybody so angry at her?

Those were different times back then. Divorce was not an option. Anti-depressents were not an option because they did not exist. Women could not work. I felt she made an awful choice but I was not angry. I was a bit heartbroken.

This book reminded me of Virginia Wolfe, of The Hours, also of Ethan Frome (in the search for life's meaning and the burning love) and also of other stories. I also did want to shake her at times. But in no way did I dislike her.

She loved her children. But until someone experiences the lows of depression I do not think they can really grasp how empty it can make one feel. I felt this was a good woman who wanted to live in a way she was not allowed to. Perhaps she was born in the wrong time period.

When she spoke of giving her life for her kids but not herself, I think she was speaking about her very being -- her soul. She felt stifled and she could not and would not be held captive.

that doesn't mean she didn't make an idiotic choice! Suicide is always a poor choice.

I was also struck by the fact that very few reviews say much about the object of her affection -- Robert. I could not STAND him. Him I felt fury at. Not because he left her. He has that right. But the utterly cowardly route he took chilled me.

WHO does that to someone they say they love? He did not love her because he never really knew her. I found Robert very controlling in his way and infuriating.

The way he labels her cruel for merely asking about his feelings! The way he tries to get her not to go to her friend's or to go with her.

And then to leave at night like a thief. This is not a man who had any sense of what she wanted or needed but then again we cannot pick whom we fall for. If only we could.

The awakening itself was gloriusly described. The feminist messages in this book touched me and I
consider this to be one of the best reads so far of 2023.

۵ ستاره نوش جونش!

کتاب بیداری یک نکته‌ی بارز دارد که آن را از کتاب‌هایی شبیه به خودش مانند مادام بوواری و آناکارنینا متفاوت می‌کند، آن زن سرکشی که خواستار بیرون رفتن از ساختار خانواده و جامعه‌ی قرن نوزدهمی است و نمی‌تواند روزمرگی و به مثابه‌ی شی برخورد شدن را با خودش تحمل کند این‌بار از قلم یک زن نوشته شده است. این خود شاید بهانه‌ای باشد برای بیشتر به چشم آمدن کتاب بیداری، از طرفی دیگر هرآنچه در این کتاب گفته می‌شود و روابط بین آدم‌ها از عمق کافی برخوردار نیست، خواننده زیاد از عمق عشق بین ادنا و رابرت آگاه نمی‌شود انگار همه چیز از دور به ما نشان داده می‌شود و انتظار می‌رود که باورشان بکنیم. از آن سو در موارد معدودی تصویرپردازی‌های کتاب از مکان‌ها و میزهای غذا و لباس‌ها دقیق است که ای کاش این دقت با شخصیت‌های پرداخت شده تر در هم می‌آمیخت.
از خواندنش پشیمان نیستم، به عنوان کتابی که در زمانه‌ي خود پیش‌رو محسوب می‌شد و جربزه‌ی زن نویسنده‌ای را به نمایش می‌گذارد که از خلق شخصیت اول داستانش در حالی که مغایر با ارزش‌های حال حاضر جامعه بوده نترسیده است.

I hated this book when I first read it, and, after three re-reads (damn the infiltration of Feminist critical theories into university level English courses! ;) I’m kidding…for the most part) for various professors, I am proud to say that I STILL hate it. Edna is the most selfish, self-serving, self-pitying creature in all of literature, and I sincerely hope that no woman ever uses this novella as a model for life. Being an artist and having an artistic soul is more than simply denying all social obligations and living a life of pleasure and personal satisfaction. Everyone, regardless of their gender, lives in a world that requires certain obligations, whether social, economic, or personal, and shunning those obligations because you're "oppressed" is such bullshit. Grow up and grow a pair, Edna. You're not that oppressed. And, news-flash, you're not that artistic either. It's not just society that's fucked up, it's you too.

Another theme of the novella that frustrates me to no end is the idea that children are somehow a burden to self-fulfillment. I understand that some women are not innately maternal, and that's fine; no one should be forced to become a mother unless it is something that feeds their soul. But, for God's sake Kate Chopin, do not ridicule women who are maternal and who do love their children; do not portray maternal woman as spineless creatures that have accepted and internalized patriarchal hegemony. Being a good mother and loving your children above everything, even yourself, is not a symptom of oppression! This is what is wrong with the world! Not only do we have men judging us, we have other women judging us too, and much harsher than any man ever has. Being a strong feminist can be defined in a multitude of ways, not just rebels who break social conventions to prove a point.

“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 read this book during my senior year of high school, and I am grateful for that, because without all the analyzing and discussion, I would not have been able to understand it and appreciate it as much as I did.

It follows Edna Pontellier, during a holiday on the Gulf of Mexico, as she has an “awakening” of ideas and self, amidst the constriction of Louisiana society.

This novel has many themes, impulse, freedom, search for identity, the role of women and sex, marriage, and rejection of tradition; making it into a Bildungsroman novel, as it focuses on the changes that contributed to the main character growth, rather than relaying on past accounts.

Edna is a dis-likable character, but at the same time interesting, most people hate her, and I am one of them, however she is such an interesting narrator, she begins from a housewife to a “free-woman.” What I have seen is that she is mostly disliked for her relationship with her children. “I would give up the unessential; I would give up my money, I would give up my life for my children; but I wouldn't give myself. I can't make it more clear; it's only something I am beginning to comprehend, which is revealing itself to me.” She is seen as a bad mother because she is not constantly coddling them, she does not sugar coat anything, when her children get injured, they know that crying to mummy is not a solution, they must get up and over it, instead of acting like babies and crying about it like all other children in this tale. Just because they are our parents does not mean that they must give themselves up for our pleasure, that seems rather selfish.

“He could see plainly that she was not herself. That is, 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.”

There is big debate over whether this novel should be categorized as feminist or not, and whatever your opinion might be we must look at it from a non-linear point of view; it is a tale of self discovery of the oppressed, and if the mind cannot process such a thing, then picture yourself as her, and not just say what you would have done in her position, but truly analyze it, because everything is easier said than done.
P.S.: If you don’t want to read this book, then at least only read chapter 6, it is less than a page long, and truly brilliant.

Wow, not the book a financial advisor should read right before leaving his wife to go on a business trip. This is another novel where it seems more important (well timed) than it is actually good (well written). Don't get me wrong, I think this is a fine (and important) piece of literary fiction, but it just isn't great fiction. Chopin, to me, is a little like a shaky bridge between Leo Tolstoy and Virginia Woolf that isn't as perfected as Tolstoy and not as consuming as Woolf, but feels like an adequate literary step between the two.

More like 3.5 stars but I read this for my Women Authors English class & wow. Wasn’t expecting to like it as much as I did, nor was I expecting the ending but it makes sense given the time in which this book is set in.

Kate Chopin wrote this story of female self-actualization back in the late 19th century, but it's as applicable today as it was then. I think we all feel trapped by decisions we've made capriciously, and we all consider, even briefly, escape. The main character in this novel not only realizes that she has trapped herself, but she actively seeks to free herself. Her action, rather than just emotion and despair (a la Goethe), is what separates her from the herd.

Here's the low-down: Edna is a woman, probably in her 30s or so, married to a successful financier and mother to two charming children. She summers on an island, probably to escape summer diseases in the city, New Orleans. One summer she acquires a friend, Robert. Although married women in this society frequently have male friends, Edna is an outsider, and she takes Robert's attentions far too seriously. Apparently, he is similarly infatuated. Basking in Robert's attention, Edna understands at last that she has discarded her youthful dreams and hopes and that her current life is unfulfilling. She takes small steps toward freeing herself, and Robert seems a willing accomplice for a while.

But Robert sees the hopelessness of such an infatuation: Edna is married, after all. Abruptly, Robert leaves the island and heads off to Mexico, presumably to seek his fortune. Edna is devastated. Even after she returns to town, her emotions are in turmoil. But loneliness actually proves helpful. She relearns who she is, reclaims the dreams of her youth, and abandons her husband and children. The author is careful with this last, making it seem tragic and irresponsible, yet ultimately unavoidable. By the last 20 pages, Edna is free.

And then Robert returns. Edna says that she does not feel obligated by their mutual love; she says that she is an independent woman now who is not the property of any other person. But she's lying. Her actions show that she is dependent on Robert, needy for his love and attention. I still can't decide if the author created this break between words and behavior on purpose, or if she really intended us to believe that Edna was wholly independent.

In fact, the only weak part of the story, in my opinion, is that Edna does not take responsibility for her own awakening. She claims that Robert "awoke" her.

Edna does in the end devise a solution that proves her ultimate freedom and independence, and it is the only solution that works. But I won't spoil it by writing it here.

The thing that makes this book so lovely is that it isn't preachy. So many modern girl-power novels just sort of slam you over the head with the girls-first-and-men-suck mantra. This book is about Edna; it doesn't purport to be about all women. It's a very personal work, and the narrative hand is light. It leaves us, the readers, free to recognize the little bits of Edna in us all, and although the rest of us may not ultimately choose Edna's course, it gives us hope that such freedom is possible, even after the fact.

Sexual Suppression in Fin de siècle Southern Society

Grand Isle, Louisiana, 1899. I can imagine it. The muggy salt air creeps off a windless glittering gulf. White wooden chairs pose in the antique, misty elegance of a large veranda. Blinds half-drawn at sundown to corrugated silhouettes, as the dimming sunlight honeycombs a laced corset.

Edna Pontellier was raised Protestant in rural Kentucky then married into a Catholic, French Creole family in New Orleans. She was completely unprepared for the constraining societal demands Set upon her on her first visit to the Pontellier summer house on Grand Isle. Nor was she ready to deal with 1899 Southern belles who sashay from house to summer house stifling the stuffy air as they swelter over sweaty glasses of iced tea. As Pat Conroy wrote, "the sweetness of Southern women often conceals the deadliness of snakes." So true. Donna Tartt probably best explains being raised and living among this coquettish set in writing that, "many Southern ladies are fierce, dignified ex-belles who changed their ways before they went crazy or killed somebody."

The voluptuary Edna is sexually awakened by the young single Creole, Robert LeBrun, thereafter commences an affair with a bad cad named Alcee Arobin, and ultimately moves out of her house to start her new "independent" life. In the end, she cannot handle the societal demands of New Orleans and goes for a long swim.

In some ways, it reminds me of Madame Bovary published 43 years earlier (1856). Besides the geographic differences, Edna was more driven to seek independence by her circumstances and society, to rebel against sexual repression in a place that was more chauvinistic and puritanical than France half a century earlier; whereas Bovary dreamed of romance and free love like that in the books she read.

The writing was commendable and tantalizing. Certainly, it was forward-thinking from the female point of view in the U.S. at the precipice of the 20th century. From what I've read, this short novel shocked American readers in 1899 with its uninhibited look at infidelity and female sexuality, and did not sell well until re-discovered in the 1960s by feminists in academia who saw and still see it as significant and liberating.