Das Erwachen

Von Kate Chopin

Sommerfrische am Meer, Ende des 19. Jahrhunderts: Mit 28 Jahren ist Edna Pontellier längst Ehefrau und Mutter. Ihre Ehe scheint harmonisch, das Leben geordnet. Doch dann leistet ihr der aufmerksame Robert Gesellschaft, und Edna verliebt sich. Als die beiden ihre Gefühle füreinander ent­decken, flieht der junge Mann erschrocken auf eine Geschäftsreise. Edna wartet vergeblich auf Post. Alleingelassen kehrt sie in die Stadt zurück und lässt alle gesellschaftlichen Konventionen hinter sich — mit fatalen Folgen ...

• Sprache: Deutsch
• Herausgeber: edition fünf
• Erscheinungsdatum: 29. Feb. 2016
• ISBN: 9783942374767

Buchvorschau

1—In einem Käfig vor der Tür krächzte unablässig ein grüngelber Papagei:

»Allez vous-en! Allez vous-en! Sapristi! That’s all right!«

Er konnte auch ein wenig Spanisch und noch eine Sprache, die keiner verstand – außer vielleicht der Spottdrossel im Käfig gegenüber, die ihre Melodie mit nervtötender Ausdauer in den Wind hinaus zwitscherte.

Mr Pontellier, der sich nicht in der Lage sah, seine Zeitung in Ruhe zu lesen, erhob sich mit empörter Miene und einem Ausruf der Entrüstung. Er verließ die Veranda und schritt über die schmalen Stege, die den Verbindungsweg zwischen den Cottages der Familie Lebrun bildeten. Gesessen hatte er vor dem Eingang des Haupthauses. Der Papagei und die Spottdrossel gehörten Madame Lebrun, und sie durften so viel lärmen, wie sie wollten. Mr Pontellier seinerseits hatte alles Recht, sich ihrer Gesellschaft zu entziehen, wenn sie nicht länger seiner Unterhaltung dienten.

Vor der Tür zu seinem eigenen Cottage, dem vierten und vorletzten hinter dem Haupthaus, blieb er stehen. Dort setzte er sich in einen Korbschaukelstuhl und nahm sich erneut seine Zeitung vor. Es war Sonntag, die Zeitung war einen Tag alt. Die Sonntagsausgaben waren noch nicht auf Grand Isle eingetroffen. Da er die Börsenberichte bereits kannte, überflog er nun die Kommentare und Meldungen, die er am Vortag vor seiner Abfahrt aus New Orleans noch nicht hatte lesen können.

Mr Pontellier trug eine Brille. Er war ein mittelgroßer, schmächtiger Mann von vierzig Jahren und leicht gebeugter Haltung. Sein glattes braunes Haar war seitlich gescheitelt, der tadellose Bart säuberlich gestutzt.

Von Zeit zu Zeit löste er den Blick von der Zeitung und sah sich um. Im Haupthaus drüben herrschte noch mehr Lärm als gewöhnlich. Es bildete den Mittelpunkt der Anlage und wurde, um es von den Cottages rings um zu unterscheiden, allgemein »das Haus« genannt. Die Vögel schwatzten und zwitscherten immer noch. Zwei junge Mädchen, die Zwillinge der Farivals, spielten auf dem Klavier ein Duett aus »Zampa«. Und Madame Lebrun, die sich unentwegt drinnen und draußen zu schaffen machte, erteilte regelmäßig schrille Befehle: dem Burschen im Garten, wenn sie gerade im Haus war, und dem Tischdiener im Speisesaal, wenn sie draußen war. Sie war eine lebhafte, hübsche Frau, die stets weiße Kleider mit großen Puffärmeln trug. Ihre gestärkten Röcke raschelten bei jeder Bewegung. Etwas näher, vor einem der Cottages, schritt ernst eine Dame in Schwarz auf und ab, die einen Rosenkranz murmelte. Einige Feriengäste waren in Beaudelets Boot nach Chênière Caminada zur Messe übergesetzt. Unter den Moor-eichen spielten ein paar Kinder Krocket. So auch Mr Pontelliers Söhne, zwei stämmige kleine Knaben von vier und fünf. Ihr Kindermädchen, eine quadroon, beaufsichtigte sie mit abwesender, gedankenverlorener Miene.

Schließlich zündete sich Mr Pontellier eine Zigarre an und ließ die Zeitung vom Schoß gleiten. Er heftete seinen Blick auf einen weißen Sonnenschirm, der sich im Schneckentempo vom Strand heranbewegte. Zwischen den kahlen Stämmen der Mooreichen und über den Streifen gelber Kamille hinweg war er gut zu erkennen. Das Meer dahinter schien weit entfernt und verschwamm mit dem diesigen Blau des Horizonts. Der Sonnenschirm kam stetig, aber langsam näher. Unter seinem rosa gesäumten, schützenden Dach gingen seine Frau, Mrs Pontellier, und der junge Robert Lebrun. Als sie das Cottage erreichten, setzten sie sich, offenkundig erschöpft, auf die oberste Stufe der Veranda und lehnten sich einander zugewandt rechts und links an die Pfosten.

»Was für ein Unfug! Um diese Tageszeit und bei dieser Hitze zu baden!«, rief Mr Pontellier. Er selbst war bei Tagesanbruch im Meer gewesen. Deshalb erschien ihm der Vormittag so lang.

»Dein Sonnenbrand spottet jeder Beschreibung«, fügte er hinzu und bedachte seine Frau mit einem abschätzigen Blick wie ein wertvolles Stück persönlichen Eigentums, das Schaden genommen hat. Sie schob ihre Musselinärmel zurück, hob ihre schönen, starken Hände und betrachtete sie prüfend. Dabei entsann sie sich der Ringe, die sie ihrem Mann vor dem Aufbruch zum Strand gegeben hatte. Stumm streckte sie ihm die Hand entgegen, und er verstand die Geste, nahm die Ringe aus der Westentasche und ließ sie in ihre geöffnete Hand fallen. Sie steckte sie sich an, umschlang ihre Knie und fing, mit einem Blick zu Robert hinüber, an zu lachen. Die Ringe blitzten an ihren Fingern. Robert antwortete mit einem Lächeln.

»Was ist?«, fragte Pontellier und betrachtete die beiden träge und amüsiert. Es ging um irgendeine Nichtigkeit, irgendein kleines Abenteuer draußen im Wasser, und beide versuchten gleichzeitig, es wiederzugeben. Es schien im Nachhinein nicht mehr halb so amüsant. Das merkten beide, und Mr Pontellier auch. Er gähnte und streckte sich. Dann stand er auf und verkündete, er habe nicht übel Lust auf eine Runde Billard, drüben in Kleins Hotel.

»Kommen Sie doch mit, Lebrun«, schlug er vor. Doch Robert gestand frei heraus, noch zu bleiben zu wollen, um sich mit Mrs Pontellier zu unterhalten.

»Nun denn, schick ihn fort, wenn er dich langweilt, Edna«, befahl ihr Gatte und wandte sich zum Gehen.

»Hier, nimm den Sonnenschirm«, rief sie und hielt ihm den Schirm hin. Er nahm ihn, spannte ihn auf, während er die Treppe hinunterging, und machte sich auf den Weg.

»Kommst du zum Mittagessen?«, rief seine Frau ihm hinterher. Mr Pontellier hielt einen Moment inne und zuckte die Achseln. Er griff in seine Westentasche und fand eine Zehn-Dollar-Note. Er wusste es nicht: Vielleicht würde er zum Mittagessen wiederkommen, vielleicht auch nicht. Das hing von der Gesellschaft ab, die er bei Kleins antraf, und von dem Spiel, das dort lief. Er sprach das nicht aus, aber sie verstand es, lachte und nickte ihm zum Abschied zu.

Beide Kinder wollten ihren Vater begleiten, als sie ihn aufbrechen sahen. Er gab ihnen einen Kuss und versprach ihnen, Bonbons und Erdnüsse mitzubringen.

2—Mrs Pontelliers Augen waren flink und klar und von einem ähnlichen Goldbraun wie ihre Haare. Sie hatte die Gewohnheit, ihren Blick schnell auf etwas zu richten und dort ruhen zu lassen, als habe sie sich in ein inneres Labyrinth von Betrachtungen und Gedanken verloren.

Ihre Brauen waren einen Ton dunkler als ihr Haar. Dicht und beinahe waagerecht betonten sie die Tiefe ihrer Augen. Sie war eher anziehend als schön. Ihr Gesicht bestach durch seine Offenheit und das feine, widersprüchliche Mienenspiel. Und sie hatte eine liebenswürdige Art.

Robert drehte sich eine Zigarette. Er rauche Zigaretten, weil er sich keine Zigarren leisten könne, sagte er. Zwar hatte er in der Tasche eine Zigarre, die ihm Mr Pontellier geschenkt hatte, doch die wollte er sich für nach dem Essen aufbewahren.

Das erschien ihm nur angemessen und natürlich. Sein Teint war dem seiner Begleiterin nicht unähnlich. Das glattrasierte Gesicht betonte die Ähnlichkeit noch. Auf seiner offenen Miene lag nicht der Schatten einer Sorge. Seine Augen sammelten und reflektierten das Licht und die Wärme des Sommertages.

Mrs Pontellier angelte sich einen Palmwedel vom Boden der Veranda und begann sich Luft zuzufächeln, während Robert kleine Rauchwölkchen ausstieß. Sie plauderten in einem fort: über in ihre Umgebung, über das amüsante Erlebnis draußen im Wasser – es hatte seinen ursprünglichen Reiz wiedergewonnen –, über den Wind, die Bäume, die Leute, die zur Chênière gefahren waren; über die Kinder, die unter den Eichen Krocket spielten, und die Zwillinge der Farivals, die jetzt die Ouvertüre zu »Dichter und Bauer« zum Besten gaben. Robert sprach recht viel von sich. Er war sehr jung und wusste es nicht besser. Aus dem gleichen Grund erzählte Mrs Pontellier recht wenig von sich. Beide waren interessiert an dem, was der andere sagte. Robert sprach von seiner Absicht, im Herbst nach Mexiko zu gehen, weil er dort sein Glück versuchen wolle. Er hatte schon länger vor, nach Mexiko zu gehen, aber irgendwie kam es nie dazu. Derweil hielt er an seiner bescheidenen Stellung in einem Handelshaus in New Orleans fest, wo ihm die Tatsache, dass er die englische, französische und spanische Sprache gleichermaßen gut beherrschte, zu nicht geringem Ansehen als Kontorist und Korrespondent verhalf.

Wie jedes Jahr verlebte er seine Sommerferien bei seiner Mutter auf Grand Isle. Früher, Robert konnte sich an diese Zeit nicht erinnern, war »das Haus« die Sommerresidenz der Lebruns gewesen. Jetzt war es von einem Dutzend oder mehr kleiner Cottages flankiert, die ständig mit exklusiven Gästen aus dem »Quartier Français« besetzt waren und es Madame Lebrun ermöglichten, auch weiterhin das angenehme, sorgenfreie Leben zu führen, zu dem sie offenbar geboren war.

Mrs Pontellier erzählte von der Plantage ihres Vaters in Mississippi und von ihrer Kindheit im Bluegrass-Gebiet des alten Kentucky. Sie war Amerikanerin mit einem Schuss französischen Bluts, das sich nach Generationen verwässert zu haben schien. Sie las einen Brief ihrer Schwester vor, die im Osten lebte und sich soeben verlobt hatte. Robert fragte interessiert, was für Charaktere die beiden Schwestern seien, was für ein Mensch ihr Vater, und wie lange ihre Mutter schon tot sei.

Als Mrs Pontellier den Brief wieder zusammenfaltete, war es Zeit, sich zum Essen umzuziehen.

»Wie ich sehe, kommt Léonce nicht zurück«, sagte sie mit einem Blick in die Richtung, in die ihr Gatte entschwunden war. Robert pflichtete ihr bei, da sich drüben bei Kleins eine ganze Reihe Clubfreunde aus New Orleans zusammengefunden hatten.

Als Mrs Pontellier ihn verließ, um in ihr Zimmer zu gehen, stieg der junge Mann die Treppe hinunter und schlenderte zu den Krocketspielern, wo er sich die halbe Stunde vor dem Essen mit den beiden Jungen der Pontelliers vertrieb, die ihn sehr gern hatten.

3—Es war elf Uhr nachts, als Mr Pontellier aus Kleins Hotel zurückkehrte. Er war glänzender Laune, in Hochstimmung und zum Reden aufgelegt. Als er hereinkam, weckte er seine Frau, die schon ins Bett gegangen war und fest schlief. Während er sich auszog, erzählte er ihr Anekdoten, kleine Neuigkeiten und Klatsch, den er im Laufe des Tages mitbekommen hatte. Seinen Hosentaschen entnahm er eine Handvoll zerknüllter Banknoten und viele Silbermünzen, die er auf die Kommode häufte, zusammen mit Schlüsseln, Messer, Taschentuch und allem anderen, was sich gerade in seinen Taschen befand. Seine schlaftrunkene Frau antwortete ihm nur in unzusammenhängenden Halbsätzen.

Er fand es sehr enttäuschend, dass sie, die doch sein Ein und Alles war, so wenig Interesse für seine Angelegenheiten aufbrachte und das Gespräch mit ihm so wenig schätzte.

Die Bonbons und Erdnüsse für die Kinder hatte Mr Pontellier vergessen. Gleichwohl liebte er sie sehr und ging ins Nebenzimmer, wo sie schliefen, um nach ihnen zu schauen und sich zu vergewissern, dass sie friedlich ruhten. Das Ergebnis seiner Untersuchung war alles andere als zufriedenstellend. Er schob und drehte die Kleinen in ihren Betten herum. Einer seiner Söhne begann zu strampeln und von einem Korb voller Krebse zu reden.

Mr Pontellier kehrte mit der Mitteilung zu seiner Frau zurück, Raoul habe hohes Fieber und man müsse nach ihm sehen. Dann zündete er sich eine Zigarre an und setzte sich zum Rauchen an die offene Tür.

Mrs Pontellier war nahezu sicher, dass Raoul kein Fieber hatte. Er sei beim Zubettgehen absolut wohlauf gewesen, sagte sie, und auch tagsüber habe ihm nicht das Geringste gefehlt. Mr Pontellier hingegen war zu gut mit Fiebersymptomen vertraut, um sich zu irren. Er versicherte ihr, das Kind ringe in diesem Moment im Nebenzimmer mit dem Tod. Seiner Frau warf er Unaufmerksamkeit und ständige Vernachlässigung der Kinder vor. Wenn es nicht die Aufgabe der Mutter sei, die Kinder zu versorgen, wessen um Himmels willen denn sonst? Er selbst habe mit seinem Börsenmaklergeschäft alle Hände voll zu tun. Er könne nicht an zwei Orten zugleich sein: unterwegs, um den Lebensunterhalt für die Familie zu verdienen, und zu Hause, um aufzupassen, dass sie keinen Schaden nahmen. Seine Stimme war monoton und eindringlich.

Mrs Pontellier sprang aus dem Bett und ging ins Nebenzimmer. Bald darauf kehrte sie zurück, setzte sich auf die Bettkante und legte ihren Kopf auf das Kissen. Sie sagte nichts und verweigerte die Antwort auf die Fragen ihres Mannes. Als seine Zigarre aufgeraucht war, legte er sich ins Bett und war nach einer halben Minute fest eingeschlafen.

Doch Mrs Pontellier war mittlerweile hellwach. Sie weinte ein wenig und trocknete ihre Tränen am Ärmel ihres Morgenmantels. Dann blies sie die Kerze aus, die ihr Mann hatte brennen lassen, schlüpfte in ein Paar Seidenpantoffeln am Fußende des Bettes und ging auf die Veranda hinaus, wo sie sich in den Korbstuhl setzte und sachte hin und her zu schaukeln begann.

Es war nach Mitternacht. Alle Cottages lagen im Dunkel. Nur im Flur des Haupthauses brannte ein schwaches Licht. Weit und breit war kein Laut zu hören, nur der Schrei einer alten Eule im Wipfel einer Mooreiche und die ewige Stimme des Meeres, die zu dieser stillen Stunde nur sanft erhoben war. Wie ein trauriges Schlaflied drang sie durch die Nacht.

Die Tränen stiegen so schnell in Mrs Pontelliers Augen, dass der feuchte Ärmel des Morgenmantels zum Trocknen nicht mehr ausreichte. Sie legte den Arm auf die Rückenlehne des Schaukelstuhls; ihr weiter Ärmel glitt fast bis zur Schulter zurück. Nun drückte sie ihr feuchtes, heißes Gesicht in die Armbeuge und ließ den Tränen freien Lauf, ohne sie noch zu trocknen. Sie hätte nicht sagen können, weshalb sie weinte. Begebenheiten wie die vorangegangene waren in ihrem Eheleben nichts Ungewöhnliches, doch bislang waren sie gegen die große Güte und die gleichbleibende Zuneigung ihres Mannes, die er ihr stillschweigend und selbstverständlich entgegenbrachte, noch nie ins Gewicht gefallen.

Ein unbeschreiblicher Kummer, der in einem verborgenen Bereich ihres Bewusstseins zu entstehen schien, erfüllte sie mit namenloser Angst. Es war, als legte sich ein Schatten, ein Nebel, auf den Sommertag ihrer Seele. Ein seltsames, unbekanntes Gefühl, eine Anwandlung. Sie saß nicht da und schimpfte innerlich auf ihren Mann oder beklagte das Schicksal, das ihre Schritte auf den Weg gelenkt hatte, den sie gegangen war. Sie weinte sich nur einmal richtig aus. Die Moskitos machten sich über sie her, stachen sie in die festen, runden Arme und in die bloßen Füße.

Die kleinen stechenden, summenden Quälgeister brachten es fertig, die Stimmung zu vertreiben, die sie sonst womöglich eine halbe Nacht lang dort in der Dunkelheit gehalten hätte.

Am nächsten Morgen stand Mr Pontellier rechtzeitig auf, um die Kutsche zu erreichen, die ihn zum Dampfer am Landeplatz befördern sollte. Er wollte zu seinen Geschäften in die Stadt zurückkehren, auf der Insel würde man ihn vor dem kommenden Samstag nicht wiedersehen. Seine Gemütsruhe, die in der vergangenen Nacht etwas angeschlagen schien, war wiederhergestellt. Er freute sich auf eine lebhafte Woche in der Carondolet Street und hatte es eilig, wegzukommen.

Mr Pontellier gab seiner Frau die Hälfte des Geldes, das er am Abend zuvor in Kleins Hotel gewonnen hatte. Wie die meisten Frauen schätzte sie Geld und nahm es nicht ohne Genugtuung entgegen.

»Das wird ein hübsches Hochzeitsgeschenk für Janet geben!«, rief sie aus, während sie die Banknoten glatt strich und zählte.

»Oh, deine Schwester wird von uns etwas Besseres bekommen, mein Liebes«, lachte er und schickte sich an, sie zum Abschied zu küssen.

Die Kinder tollten herum, hängten sich an seine Beine, bettelten, er möge ihnen allerlei mitbringen, wenn er wiederkomme. Mr Pontellier war sehr beliebt, und Damen, Herren, Kinder und sogar deren Kinderfrauen ließen es sich nie nehmen, ihn zu verabschieden. Seine Frau winkte ihm lächelnd nach, die Söhne johlten, als er in der alten Kutsche die sandige Straße hinunter verschwand.

Ein paar Tage darauf traf ein Paket aus New Orleans für Mrs Pontellier ein. Es war von ihrem Gatten und enthielt allerlei friandises, herrliche

Rezensionen für Das Erwachen

[shadowofthewind · Bewertung: 5 von 5 Sternen]

I was first introduced to this book at the library. Students would pour in with their required reading assignment in hand and would flock to this book. I think they chose it because it was short and it had the potential to have sex scenes in it. Those are both terrible reasons to pick up this book. In many not so subtle ways the book immediately demonstrates that Mr. Pontellier is quite a jerk. That general theme reminds me a lot of Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse where the men bluster and have expectations that aren’t to be questioned. There is the expectation of women to take care of everything to please her husband, as if that was the only purpose of a wife. The situation translates so well over time where women were viewed as objects, robots, there to serve a function. Anyone who rebelled against this was thought to tear at the seams of good society. However, just like many other classics (Madame Bovary) the woman who is unhappy with this domestic arrangement makes mistakes in just hoping for a change. Those mistakes always lead to tragic results. I really enjoyed the book for the lyrical language and the plight of poor Mrs. Pontellier. The Awakening is the prototype of feminist novels and I am sorry I put it off for so long.Favorite passages:"In short, Mrs. Pontellier was beginning to realize her position in the universe as a human being, and to recognize her relations as an individual to the world within and about her. This may seem like a ponderous weight of wisdom to descend upon the soul of a young woman of twenty-eight--perhaps more wisdom than the Holy Ghost is usually pleased to vouchsafe to any woman. p. 18"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." p. 18"With a writhing motion she settled herself more securely in the hammock. She perceived that her will had blazed up, stubborn and resistant. She could not at that moment have done other than denied and resisted. She wondered if her husband had ever spoken to her like that before, and if she had submitted to his command. Of course she had; she remembered that she had. But she could not realize why or how she should have yielded, feeling as she then did." p. 35"and she tried to discover wherein this summer had been different from any and every other summer of her life. She could only realize that she herself--her present self--was in some way different from the other self. That she was seeing with different eyes and making the acquaintance of new conditions in herself that colored and changed her environment, she did not yet suspect." p. 44"The past was nothing to her; offered no lesson which she was willing to heed. The future was a mystery which she never attempted to penetrate. The present alone was significant; was hers, to torture her as it was doing then with the biting conviction that she had lost that which she had held, that she had been denied that which her impassioned, newly awakened being demanded." p. 48"Mr Pontellier had been a rather courteous husband so long as he met a certain submissiveness in his wife But her and unexpected line of conduct completely bewildered him It shocked him her absolute disregard for her duties a wife angered him. When Mr Pontelier became rude Edna grew insolent She had resolved never to take another step backward" p. 75"It sometimes entered Mr Pontellier's to wonder if his wife were not growing a little unbalanced mentally. He could plainly that she was not herself. That is he could not see that she was becoming herself and daily casting aside that fictitious which we assume like a garment with which to appear before the world." p. 80"Or else she stayed indoors and nursed a mood with which she was becoming too familiar for her own comfort and peace of mind. It was not despair but it seemed to her as if life were passing by leaving its promise broken and unfulfilled." p.100"She felt as if a mist had been lifted from her eyes enabling her to look upon and comprehend the significance of life that monster made up of beauty and brutality." p. 125 "Every step which she took toward relieving herself from obligations added to her strength and expansion as an individual. She began to look with her own eyes to see and to apprehend the deeper undercurrents of life." p. 150"She had pictured him seeking her at the very first hour and he had lived under the same sky since day before yesterday while only by accident had he stumbled upon her." p. 175"You have been a very very foolish boy your time dreaming of impossible things when you speak of Mr Pontellier setting me free. I am no longer one of Mr possessions to dispose of or not 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." p. 185

[pennsylady · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

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*

[eadieb-1 · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

Book Description The Awakening, originally titled A Solitary Soul, is a novel by Kate Chopin, first published in 1899. Set in New Orleans and the Southern Louisiana coast at the end of the nineteenth century, the plot centers on Edna Pontellier and her struggle to reconcile her increasingly unorthodox views on femininity and motherhood with the prevailing social attitudes of the turn-of-the-century American South. It is one of the earliest American novels that focuses on women's issues without condescension. It is also widely seen as a landmark work of early feminism, generating mixed reaction from contemporary readers and criticism. The novel's blend of realistic narrative, incisive social commentary, and psychological complexity makes The Awakening a precursor of American modernist literature; it prefigures the works of American novelists such as William Faulkner and Ernest Hemingway and echoes the works of contemporaries such as Edith Wharton and Henry James. It can also be considered among the first Southern works in a tradition that would culminate with the modern masterpieces of Faulkner, Flannery O'Connor, Eudora Welty, Katherine Anne Porter, and Tennessee Williams.

Book Review This is a very controversial book on what it's like to be a woman. It gives a brilliant insight in gender roles at the end of the 19th and women's coping with their struggle for independence. Chopin's writing style makes it easy to follow the plot and feel for the protagonist. I recommend this book to anyone interested in reading about the old south from a woman's point of view. 

[rainpebble_1 · Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen]

I read this for Banned Books Week and I think that I enjoyed reading about Kate Chopin and her life far more than I enjoyed reading what she wrote. In "The Awakening" Edna Pontellier lives what was at that time an upper middle class life, I would think. She is married to a husband who treats her well, has two children, several servants and is rather comfortably well off. However she finds her life boring and wants to be more independent. She loves her children but is not emotionally connected with them. In trying to change her life to become what she feels she needs to be to become whole and independent, she looks to other men and in the end she turns out to be what appears to me a weak, feeble, simple minded and silly woman. The book just didn't work for me.

[spoko_1 · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

The story—which I certainly imagine must have been shocking to many of its initial readers—is well constructed and patiently told. I didn’t really love the writing, but the characters, and in particular the change in Edna’s character—were very well developed.

I did not like the ending, though, in spite of it being perhaps the best writing in the entire book. I just think it would have been so much more interesting to imagine how Edna’s life would progress after—beyond—her awakening. She herself begins to imagine it, even imagining that she would eventually move on from Robert (which I think sounds right). So then why not let her live it? The book needn’t have gone into it; it might still have ended in roughly the same spot. Chopin might have said any number of things to simply hint at what was to come, and ended on that. I honestly think her imminent demise is the moralistic easy-way-out. I also think it hurts the power of the story as a whole, because the beauty of an awakening is really inherent in what she awakens to. And Edna has barely scratched the surface of that, as the story closes. I assumed it would end in such a way, but hoped for more, so I found it disappointing.

[andjhostet-527429 · Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen]

A slow, short, but pretty amazing novel and I see why it's as influential as it is.

The plot focuses on a woman finding herself. Finding her individualism and rebelling against the conformative expectations of society. Infidelity is the plot vehicle this is done through, and I feel like people really get caught up on this, but ultimately, I don't think the crux of the book is about infidelity, rather marriage is just a symbol for conformity and female oppression. That being said, some moments of writing referring to the affair are beautifully written, Chopin really hits her stride when she was writing about their relationship.

Ending was powerful, but felt super rushed. Really wished it would have been expanded upon a bit.

Favorite Quote:

"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."

[witchyrichy · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

The Awakening by Kate Chopin has been sitting on the shelf for some time, purchased at a point in time when I thought I wanted to read more classics. This was Chopin's second book so it fit with the Classics CAT for February dealing with two or seconds. I knew the basic plot of a woman struggling to find an authentic life in a world where women are largely considered decorative. Once awakened by real love during her summer sojourn on Grand Isle, Edna Pontellier finds it impossible to return to her normal life as wife and mother in New Orleans. The book was very controversial when it was published at the turn of the century as Chopin described an early feminist mindset that really did threaten a world that circumcised women's lives. My edition is a study one with lots of interpretive essays as well as primary source documents from the books and magazines of the times with their guidance for women to be good wives and mothers.

[etxgardener · Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen]

Regarded as highly scandalous when it was published in 1898, this story of a young wife who is bored with her lie as a proper wife and mother in late 19th Century New Orleans and seeks out her own independent life, seems fairly run of the mill in the 21st Century. It is, however, well written and held my interest from beginning to end.

[glennbell_1 · Bewertung: 5 von 5 Sternen]

The written text was boring at times and the characters were not well developed but the story is highly impactful. I fully understand the the sentiments of the key character, Edna. The interests and desires of the individual are often trumped by societal expectations and pressures. It is not terribly surprising that Edna commits suicide, since life for her had become ruined by those she interacted with. I applaud her spirit. I recommend this book for anyone who is willing to think independently.

[scottcholstad · Bewertung: 5 von 5 Sternen]

Required reading in too many English classes, normally I would hate such a text, but this actually is pretty good, and has always been very relevant. It stands the test of time like few do. Not my favorite period or writer, but among the best of each. Recommended.

[danielstj · Bewertung: 2 von 5 Sternen]

An appeasing novella, but dated and lacking in many instances. Altogether, did not enjoy very much.

[bcrowl399 · Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen]

This was somewhat difficult to read, mainly because of the writing style of the time period, I think. I was overly dramatic. There were some lovely passages of description and I understood the point of the story, but the style was a little clumsy.

[bness2 · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

Well written romantic. feminist tragedy. Considered a classic. The main character needed a good therapist. :-)

[kamgeb · Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen]

I loved this book when I first read it in college. I decided to reread it as my daughter was reading it for school and unfortunately it didn't move me this time. I found that the story moved very slowly. That I really didn't like the entitled characters. And the first time I read it I could identify with Edna. This time I really disliked Edna. Perhaps I could forgive her leaving a husband that she didn't like. But her disinterest in her children made me angry. And the ending really bothered me this time.

[lydia1879 · Bewertung: 5 von 5 Sternen]

... oh my goodness me the reviews.

Some of them are so unkind, so cruel and so scathing. And for everyone criticising Chopin's writing and saying how they would write this book -- Go! Go write a book with feminist themes that you'd like to see in a book.

Edna, as a female protagonist, stands for so much more than a selfish woman who has had an affair. She is brave enough, and bold enough to completely abandon society and realise that she is so much more than a mother and a wife. She realises, during the course of the book, that she has a self that neither her husband or her children would ever see.

This book is full of metaphors and beautifully written. I loved how Chopin created atmosphere and texture and colour, and how she drew on her environment to enhance her writing. It was written in 1899, and was so ground-breaking for its time.

I don't like books about cheating, or with cheating tropes. I think it's lazy, and I don't find it interesting.

But I loved this book. This is an important book.

But more than anything, I love Edna. She is a beautiful, flawed women, and I saw part of myself in her. Furthermore, all these negative comments and reviews make me realise that this is why we need feminism. This is why I need feminism.

And I will love and defend Edna and her choices till the end of my days. Chopin, I tip my hat to you. I will give this book to my friends, and to anyone who asks.

(I feel like this review is a little bit harsh - we're all entitled to our different opinions but it makes me a bit sad that people are so unfair to a female protagonist.)

[mchburke · Bewertung: 1 von 5 Sternen]

I don't remember the writing, only that I didn't like the story. It falls into a category of stories that I find problematic -- in which female characters who have affairs must somehow die.

[mtlkch-1 · Bewertung: 5 von 5 Sternen]

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

[brandyluther-1 · Bewertung: 5 von 5 Sternen]

romantic and bitter sweet.

[bookconcierge · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

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.

[engpunk77 · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

Loved it! I especially love the ambiguous ending that I enjoy arguing about.

[hhaddad1 · Bewertung: 2 von 5 Sternen]

This book is about the journey of a woman and how she struggles with trying to decide what is best versus what she is supposed to do or think according to society. This book brings attention to women's issues back in the day. The book is not really my style, therefore i really did not enjoy it.

[martha8700 · Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen]

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...

[aliceanna-1 · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

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.

[dwsampson · Bewertung: 1 von 5 Sternen]

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.

[cassandrat-1 · Bewertung: 1 von 5 Sternen]

If only we might all be so irresponsible in the name of emancipation.

[csweder · Bewertung: 5 von 5 Sternen]

When I first started reading this book, I thought I wouldn't like it. Indeed, I only picked it up because it is listed on the 1001 Books list that I am trying like mad to get through.

However, it became obvious to me early on that this woud be a great book. In the post-Confederate South, the roles of women, and especially society women are strict. There are things that women are expected to do--marry, entertain guests, have children, knit, sew, etc.

The Awaking is about a woman, Edna, who suddenly realizes--after falling in love with another man--that she is going to stop living her life for other people. As she gains her independence, she loses her closeness with her family, friends and husband.

It was a romance novel where the entire time I was just waiting for her to tell Robert (non husband) how much he meant to her...and waiting for the affair to begin.

Read for yourself to see how it turns out.

[thatotter-1 · Bewertung: 2 von 5 Sternen]

Really did not sympathize with the protagonist.

[n.t.embe · Bewertung: 2 von 5 Sternen]

I'm more than a little annoyed. The first part of this book was just... well, you're just ambling along, and nothing is really happening. You get about halfway through, and then our main character, Edna, finally starts to--dun dun DUNNNN!--awaken. And it causes quite the stir and it makes things much more entertaining because she's doing what she wants, when she wants, and nobody can stop her or tell her otherwise what she can and can't do, or what she will and won't do. She follows no one else's desires but her own and it's only her judgment that reigns supreme. Hell, she goes so far as to almost have a lover even!

But there's the flaw in Edna. She ALMOST does things, she never goes the full length, never completely embraces her decisions. Every single thing she does seems half-hearted! Oh wooow, you decided not to listen to your husband and to do what you like. Great! Good! Won't make a difference either way! But you didn't divorce him. You didn't give him a chance to remarry and get a new wife and mother for his kids if you didn't want to do either of those jobs anymore. And what about you moving out of the house, Edna? You took all your things and didn't use any of your husband's money. Nice move of independence! But you moved down the street, in the same neighborhood, perfectly in reach of your husband. If you REALLY wanted to leave this life behind, why not change towns? Change states? Heck, you didn't have to move DOWN THE BLOCK. What kind of person does that when they're trying to show their independence?! Down the block. SHEESH. Could ANYONE make a more pathetic move as a show of INDEPENDENCE? *Rolls eyes* On top of that! She tries to take a lover, twice. And yet, as far as we know, she never gets as far as even SLEEPING with them! Mind you, I'm not complaining about that. I think cheating on your husband is a despicable action, especially since in Edna's case it was HER choice to marry him. If you commit yourself to something like that, and then have two kids with the man, then you PROBABLY know what you're getting yourself into, and you should at LEAST have the dang decency to be RESPONSIBLE for it! D:< It annoys me that she just shrugs that off!! But come on, all this infidelity talk aside, if you're going to be "Oh so naughty~" as to take a lover to show your husband he means nothing to you, then COME ON. What kinda half-hearted effort is it to not even sleep with the man. -3-

And she just does this over and over and over. All these pathetic efforts to rebel against whoever it is she's trying to prove a point to, and they never quite send the message. She never goes far enough, and I'm not sure if it's because she just doesn't have the capability to be that forward, or if she was never planning to be that obstinate in the first place. *Shrugs* It just leads to this ridiculous feeling of growing and peaking irritation at the end of the book with the STUPID decision she makes to "solve" everything once and for all. *Rolls eyes* I'm not going to tell you what the ending is, since I don't believe in spoilers, however, know this: Her solution is just as ridiculous as all her efforts have been before, and, in my eyes, it's the ULTIMATE STUPID ACTION A PERSON COULD TAKE. She ought to be slapped for being such an idiot!!!!

This book, while I get the message it was trying to send, juts does a poor, POOR job of conveying a woman of any strength at all. The ending completely destroys whatever message that the book is trying to send, and Edna's overall determination to BE PATHETIC and make that choice is influenced by what? By the fact that the guy that she's loved for, oh, how long? Since... JUST THIS WEEK (if we're to go by how she felt at the start of the book, for not even a year passes from beginning to end)!! The point is, she makes a majorly LIFE-CHANGING, STUPID decision... JUSTBECAUSESOMEGUYDOESN'TWANTTOMAKEBABIESWITHHER. =__= .......my intense annoyance is RADIATING INTO A NUCLEAR BOMB.

I am IMMENSELY upset at this book for the message it sends. For an author who was supposedly of the feminist persuasion, she sure does a pathetic job of arguing for her beliefs! What a crock!

Listen, it's a decent book. It's short, it's easy to read, and it's really not hard to get through, regardless the way the main character acts. It's not as unbearably pathetic and moronic as are many of the books being written today with similarly half-assed main female leads. If you want to check it out, then I say go for it! It's a book that's a decent enough read, if you're not going to give any credit to storyline or the message it's sending, which, essentially beats the purpose for why the book is written, but hey, who's checking now-a-days anyway. It's still a far cry better written and less painful than some of the similar-in-theme stories written today, and at least Edna gets an ending that suits her pathetic nature, unlike in stories today where the Stupid Girls get the "Good Endings" and so on.

Read it! But don't buy it before you've checked it out. It just may be your cup of tea, but then again, it also may not be. You'll have to experience it for yourself before you decide.

[sealford_1 · Bewertung: 5 von 5 Sternen]

As much as I enjoyed "A Doll's House," I actually enjoyed this one even more. It is amazing to me to read about women who finally decide to leave their gilded cage and in turn do something so dramatic. I don't want to give the ending away for those who haven't read it yet, but suffice it to say that it is very intense and a beautiful tragedy. I have read this many times and I still enjoy it each time.

[judithrs · Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen]

The Awakening. Kate Chopin. 1899. I feel like I might be the last person on earth to have read this book. I must have sent it and/or critical information about the book to at least one library each of the 33 years I worked at APLS. As most people know, “the awakening” is Edna Pontellier ‘s slowly growing awareness of herself as a woman who is dissatisfied with her life as a wife, mother, and a member of a rather rigid society. It is classified as an early feminist novel, but it so much more. I not only enjoyed reading about Edna, I really enjoyed the New Orleans setting. I’ll read more of Chopin.