of the latter ’ s perverted behavior, and a theme emerges that also appears in Chopin ’ s
work: the sense that an individual is entitled to divorce if he or she is unhappy in
marriage, regardless of religious and social prejudice. 11 Like many works treating the
ideals of the New Woman, Chopin ’ s fi ction refl ects a growing sense at the close of
the nineteenth century that the Victorian temple of matrimony was not as ideal and
eternal an institution as once thought.
“ Madame C é lestin ’ s Divorce ” (1893) and “ In Sabine ” (1893) both question the idea
of the marriage bond as indissoluble, echoing the New Woman ’ s challenge of that
institution in its patriarchal form, but they also exemplify the varied ways in which
Chopin treated such controversial issues. In “ Madame C é lestin ’ s Divorce, ” a lawyer
tactfully urges his charming neighbor to divorce her husband. C é lestin goes off for
months at a time, forcing her to support the family; worse still, he may abuse her.
At fi rst she considers Lawyer Paxton ’ s advice, though she is warned against it by her
family, her priest, and even the bishop, as she tells Paxton: “ ‘ It would move even you,
Judge, to hear how he talk ’ about that step I want to take. … How it is the duty of
a Catholic to stan ’ everything till the las ’ extreme ’ ” (278). The infatuated lawyer
daydreams about someday marrying Madame himself, but he soon learns that C é lestin
has returned and promised to “ turn over a new leaf. ” Madame ’ s “ unusually rosy ” face
that morning (279) may suggest that a satisfying sexual relationship with her husband
makes her willing to continue the marriage. Nonetheless, at the small infl uence of a
promise of improvement from her husband, this female character capitulates to the
admonitions against divorce from her family, her church, and her society.
Chopin ’ s story “ In Sabine ” makes a clearer case for the necessity of the right to
divorce through the abusive behavior of an alcoholic, Bud Aiken, toward his wife,
‘ Tite Reine. Gr é goire Santien, on a visit to Bud ’ s Sabine parish homestead, senses the
husband ’ s cruelty when he notes the once - vivacious girl ’ s frightened air. 12 ‘ Tite Reine
awakens Santien that night with a frantic appeal for help, confessing that Bud abuses
her both physically and psychologically. Santien is appalled at her situation, and
while Bud is in a drunken stupor, he facilitates the young woman ’ s escape back to
Natchitoches. Though ‘ Tite Reine does not possess stereotypical characteristics of the
New Woman, her tale treats an issue that some women of that era brought into public
discussion: an individual ’ s expectation of love and respect in marriage and, conversely,
the need for a way out of a union that lacks these qualities.
Chopin also introduced in her early stories a common trope of narratives of the
New Woman: women with longings for a world beyond their narrow environments.
Kate
Chopin
157
For example, “ The Going Away of Liza ” (1891) tells of a young wife who left her
husband and rural community after reading novels depicting scenes of urban leisure
that made her yearn for a “ ‘ higher life ’ ” (112). Like the heroines of novels such as
Dreiser ’ s Sister Carrie , Chopin ’ s idealistic protagonist is drawn to the opportunities of
the American city. However, Liza - Jane ’ s venture apparently took her in the opposite
direction of a higher life, for her husband lashes out angrily when an acquaintance
implies that his wife has succumbed to sinful ways, and her appearance upon her meek
return is telling: “ Liza - Jane stood a hunted and hungry thing in the great glow of the
fi relight. … Her cheeks were not round or red as they had been. Whatever sin or
suffering had swept over her had left its impress upon her plastic being ” (114). After
momentary hesitation, he accepts his wife again, and the story ’ s conclusion responds
conservatively to the New Woman
’
s emancipationist ideals: a woman
’
s desire to
expand her boundaries has been destructive, but redemption is possible through
a return to married domesticity. This text demonstrates the varied ways in which
Chopin
’
s fi ction treats such ideals; while some of her stories daringly assert the
protagonists ’
wayward desires and unconventional values, others focus instead on
the price that such transgressions may incur.
For example,
“
Dr. Chevalier
’
s Lie
”
(1891) offers no redeeming alternative for
another young woman whose attempt at independence fails, and the story suggests
that the end to which she comes is all too common. A doctor, after hearing a gunshot
in the “ unsavory quarter ” where he keeps his offi ce, goes to the scene of the crime,
noting the usual appearance of “ groups of tawdry, frightened women bending over
the banisters … not a few shedding womanly tears; with a dead girl stretched some-
where, as this one was ” (147). This time, he recognizes the corpse; he remembers
receiving hospitality in a cabin during a hunting trip from parents “ proud as archan-
gels of their handsome girl, who was too clever to stay in an Arkansas cabin, and who
was going away to seek her fortune in the big city ” (147). Though the young woman,
like Carrie Meeber, had idealistic views of the city, she was likely a victim of the
business of seducing female newcomers to secure them for houses of prostitution. 13
The doctor fabricates a story for her parents that she died of a fatal disease. Among
his associates, it is whispered that Dr. Chevalier made burial arrangements for a
“ woman of ill repute, ” and though society considers cutting him, it does not.
The conclusion ’ s reference to the prurient interest and moralizing of Dr. Chevalier ’ s
peers refl ects Chopin ’ s own dislike of individuals who would impose moral standards
on all. However, the neutral tone of the conclusion characterizes much of her fi ction;
the narrator does not editorialize upon society ’ s thought of cutting Chevalier, nor
whether it was ethical for him to lie to the girl ’ s parents about her death. Such objec-
tivity, especially in treating such controversial material as prostitution, adultery, and
venereal disease, made it diffi cult for Chopin to publish stories like “ Dr. Chevalier ’ s
Lie, ” “ The Going Away of Liza, ” and “ Mrs. Mobry ’ s Reason, ” and is likely why she
never attempted to place “ The Storm, ” a story of adultery with a similarly objective
conclusion. 14 Finally, though “ Dr. Chevalier ’ s Lie ” does not contain moral comment
on prostitution, it offers a realistic picture of what might happen in the nineteenth
158
Charlotte Rich
century to a na ï ve girl who went to the city in search of greater opportunities. In this
sense, the story illuminates the gap, for many nineteenth - century women, between
the optimistic ideals of the New Woman and the actual limitations of their
circumstances.
Another early story, “ Caline ” (
1892), which later appeared in the collection A Night
in Acadie , presents a variation on the theme of a young woman longing for greater
experiences. One day a rural Acadian girl is fascinated to watch elegant passengers
dismounting a nearby train at the news of engine trouble, and one of the men draws
Caline ’ s likeness in a sketchbook. She thereafter becomes preoccupied with the grand
“ city in the south ” to which these passengers are traveling, and she fi nds employment
in New Orleans as a maid - of - all - work. She is excited by the colorful city, but after a
few weeks, Caline weeps at the realization that “ it was not the great city and its crowds
of people she had so eagerly sought; but the pleasant - faced boy, who had made her
picture that day under the mulberry tree ” (248). Here, Caline has not left home in
search of the opportunities that Liza - Jane and the girl in “ Dr. Chevalier ’ s Lie ” sought;
rather, she realizes that what she has awakened to is the desire for love.
For a related group of characters from other early stories by Chopin, realization of
unfulfi lled needs is tied to a newly awakened sexuality, a theme to which she would
return repeatedly, most notably with The Awakening . One example is “ A Shameful
Affair ” (1891), which tells of a young woman, Mildred Orme, who spends her time
“ loung[ing] with her Browning and Ibsen ” (131) while on vacation at the farm of the
Kraummer family. She is physically attracted to a young farmhand who passes by the
porch: “ His fair hair was disheveled. His shoulders were broad and square and his
limbs strong and clean ” (131). One day, when she fi nds him fi shing at the river, he
kisses her passionately on the mouth and departs, leaving Mildred shocked but won-
dering, “ why was that kiss the most delicious thing she had known in her twenty
years of life? ” (134 – 5). She receives a friend ’ s letter telling her that an eccentric
acquaintance, Fred Evelyn, is working the soil that summer on the Kraummer farm.
When Mildred encounters the “ Offender ” himself, he apologizes for his behavior,
asking forgiveness, and her answer hints at Mildred ’ s own realization: “ ‘ Some day –
perhaps; when I shall have forgiven myself ’ ” (136). The story exhibits a candor in
describing Mildred ’ s sexual awakening – and her acknowledgment of it – that pres-
ages Chopin ’ s treatments of female sexuality in such later stories as “ The Storm. ”
Moreover, “ A Shameless Affair ” portrays a character who upholds two qualities associ-
ated with the New Woman: intellectual interests and acknowledgment of sexuality.
Another young woman ’ s initiation into sexuality is portrayed in Chopin ’ s story “ A
Harbinger ” (1891), which interrogates Victorian gender standards for sexual love and
marriage. An artist falls in love with a model whom he paints one summer, and he
fondly recalls Diantha ’ s erotic awakening: “ Her violet eyes were baby - eyes – when he
fi rst came. When he went away he kissed her, and she turned red and white and
trembled. As quick as thought the baby look went out of her eyes and another fl ashed
into them ” (145). When the artist returns the next summer, he wonders if she “ would
quiver red and white again when he called her his sweet own Diantha, ” but fi nding
Kate
Chopin
159
her coming out of the church at her wedding, he regretfully realizes that he was only
“ the harbinger of love ” (146). This story, in contrast to the more conservative ideas
represented in “ The Going Away of Liza, ” contradicts the Victorian notion that a
“ proper ” young woman experienced the sexual dimension of love only in marriage.
Here, Diantha has an affair, or at least a fl irtation that awakens her capacity for physi-
cal desire, but goes on to marry another man. This story thus presents a more realistic
picture of female sensuality than was typical of the literature of Chopin ’ s day.
Other stories from Chopin
’
s earlier career also treat the theme of a woman
’
s
acknowledgment of her sexuality. In “ A Respectable Woman ” (1894), Mrs. Baroda
is bewildered by her erotic response to her husband
’
s friend, Gouvernail. She is
intrigued by their houseguest
’
s courteous, slightly aloof air, and one night, as
Gouvernail joins her and talks of his life, she is clearly distracted:
She was not thinking of his words, only drinking in the tones of his voice. She wanted
to … touch him with the sensitive tips of her fi ngers upon the face or lips. She wanted
to draw close to him and whisper against his cheek – she did not care what – as she
might have done if she had not been a respectable woman. (335)
She is tempted to tell her husband about this interlude, but decides that “ there are
some battles in life which a human being must fi ght alone ” (336). Mrs. Baroda leaves
the house and returns after Gouvernail has left, but several months later she proposes
that he visit again. When her husband congratulates her on overcoming her dislike,
she responds “ laughingly, after pressing a long, tender kiss upon his lips, ‘ I have
overcome everything! you will see ’ ” (336). With Chopin ’ s characteristic ambiguity,
whether what Mrs. Baroda has “ overcome ” is merely her previous dislike of Gouvernail
or an ethical inhibition about adultery is unclear. Even if the former interpretation is
correct, the fact that she internally acknowledged her attraction to a man other than
her husband refl ects the theme of sexual assertion in many of Chopin ’ s works that
challenge conventional ideals of nineteenth - century womanhood.
The importance of erotic satisfaction for a woman is also central to one of Chopin ’ s
stories treating the color line, “ La Belle Zora ï de ” (1893). In the story, a black servant,
Manna - Loulou, tells Madame Delisle the tale of Zora ï de, a light - skinned lady ’ s maid
who refused to marry the mulatto manservant whom her mistress, Madame
Delarivi è re, had selected for her. Zora ï de was in love with Mezor, a dark - skinned fi eld
laborer, and when Madame refused to allow her to marry him, Zora ï de pointed out
her hypocrisy: “ ‘ Doctor Langl é gives me his slave to marry, but he would not give
me his son. Then, since I am not white, let me have from out of my own race the one
whom my heart has chosen ’ ” (305). Though the couple were forbidden to meet,
Zora ï de became pregnant, and Madame had Mezor sold into another state and took
away the infant after the delivery, telling her that the child had perished. When
Zora ï de ’ s grief turned into insanity, Madame brought Zora ï de ’ s little “ griffe ” girl
back from her plantation, but the slave mother rejected her child. Though Manna -
Loulou ’ s nightmarish story inspires some pity in her young mistress, Madame Delisle ’ s
160
Charlotte Rich
sympathy is limited to the child and is backhanded at that: “ ‘ Ah, the poor little one,
Man Loulou, the poor little one! better she had died! ’ ” (307).
While this story is not about the New Woman of the 1890s, the experience of
&n
bsp; Zora ï de has metaphoric signifi cance for other women of her century. Women ’ s rights
activists in the nineteenth century often invoked analogies between women and
African Americans as oppressed groups. Manna - Loulou, a slave herself, tells a subver-
sively cautionary tale against a particular evil of slavery, lack of choice in marriage,
which brings to mind a more sinister counterpart: lack of any choice, for many female
slaves, over how their bodies were used sexually. This story emphasizes the importance
of such romantic and sexual agency and, although the circumstances of female slaves
were certainly the most unjust for women in the nineteenth century, this issue extends
to the lot of all women whose desires were thwarted by social deterrents. While the
story also explores the importance of the maternal bond, “ La Belle Zora ï de ” is perhaps
Chopin ’ s grimmest treatment of the consequences of a woman ’ s being denied choice
in romantic fulfi llment.
Though Chopin ’ s fi ction reveals a preoccupation with themes of female agency and
independence that were the touchstones of the New Woman, her work does not
present progressive or activist women solely as positive emblems of social change, as
shown in her satirical description of Margaret Beaton in “ A Point at Issue! ” In two
other early stories, Chopin also presents a critical view of women of her day who
organized not only for their own rights but to improve the world. Georgie McEnders,
the protagonist of “ Miss McEnders ” (1892), is a wealthy young woman devoted to
social improvement; her schedule is typical of the reform
-
minded New Woman:
“ Three - thirty – read paper before Woman ’ s Ref. Club. Four - thirty … Join committee
of ladies to investigate moral condition of St. Louis factory girls ” (204). She visits the
home of Mademoiselle Salambre, the seamstress for her bridal trousseau, because she
has heard whispers concerning the woman ’ s character. Her suspicions are confi rmed
when she sees that the woman has a child with her whom she protests, unconvinc-
ingly, belongs to a neighbor. When Georgie self - righteously asks “ Mademoiselle ” why
she calls herself so, the latter ’ s reply suggests the realities of being a “ fallen woman ” :
“ ‘ For the reason that it is more easy to obtain employment. For reasons that you would
A Companion to the American Short Story Page 35