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

www.editionfuenf.de

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,

Rezensionen für Das Erwachen

[danielstj · Bewertung: 2 von 5 Sternen]

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

[lukes_171461 · Bewertung: 2 von 5 Sternen]

This spare 19th century novel tells the story of Edna Pontellier of New Orleans, who discovers she wants something more out of life. She is married to a prosperous and respectable stockbroker, but takes a lover when her husband is away on business. The story isn't that simple of simplistic, but it's close. Chopin's evocation of place and person leave something to be desired, and takes our understanding of the mores of the time very much for granted.This doesn't seem like enough of a literary or social transgression to ruin its author's career, but that's what it apparently did. Perhaps it's the lead character's attitude throughout, that was just too much to countenance. Not recommended, not from this quarter.

[themasterkey3000 · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

I really like this.

[bness2 · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

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

[vikkilaw · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

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.

[andreablythe · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

A married woman has an awakening of spirit after falling in love with a young man on a vacation by the seaside, which leads her to new social and spiritual freedoms. It's interesting that despite her husband's insistence that his wife must be ill to behave this way, many of her friends and allies (and some strangers/acquaintances) remain true and support her. Told with sparse prose, this story is considered a strong feminist tale, and considering the period in which it was written, it certainly is. Though it's old fashioned by today's standards, it's still a beautiful, touching story.

[tjsjohanna_1 · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

The writing is superb - all these elements - images, events, phrases - that lead the reader to consider the theme of waking up in all the many ways that one can "wake up". Long essays can and have been written on the ideas contained in this novel, so I won't attempt - but a few impressions. Edna has woken up and she is determined to be her own person - so much so that she would rather not be than be something she hasn't chosen. That is certainly taking the idea to its extreme extrapolation. While the book feels very real in some respects, there is a sense of unreality about Edna's single minded pursuit of individuality. Lots to think about in this novel.

[page.fault · Bewertung: 2 von 5 Sternen]

Edna Pontellier starts out as an ordinary housewife with a kindly husband and two children. Her life is insipid and dull, but see that she is contented in it only because she knows nothing else. However, when she falls in love with Robert Lebrun, she awakens to her latent sexuality and begins to wish for freedom from the restraints of family, of duty, of domesticity. As Edna becomes aware of her liberty and power as a woman, she fights the role that she has been thrust into. She wishes to free herself from all responsibilities that chain her from the true emancipation she desires. However, Edna's only freedom is in choosing her bonds. Edna finds that she is still captive when she tries to shake off restraint. Though she feels her marriage to be no bar to her enjoyment of life, her love for Robert and the responsibility for her children become the tightest manacles of all.
The writing is lyrical, but although I sympathize with Edna's struggle, her feeling of being trapped between two worlds, I also find that her willful selfishness makes her a somewhat unsympathetic character. Torn between two worlds, her act of "bravery" is succumbing to passion; she behaves like a child instead of an adult.
The Awakening is a classic; its dreamy, poetic writing and evocative imagery is strong, but I was unable to actually like the characters.

[mausergem_1 · Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen]

This is a story of Edna Pontellier, a affluent middle aged woman who is depressed and is going through mid life crisis. She readily fall in love with younger men and encourages other men. This book when it was published in 1899 had created a great scandal but today it will just count as a sad story of a depressed woman.

[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

[gbill_7 · Bewertung: 5 von 5 Sternen]

This is a landmark work, ahead of its time, and with themes on marriage, adultery, and most importantly the pursuit of one’s own identity and control of one’s own life in spite of societal pressure which resonate today. In 1899, a woman questioning her feelings of sadness in a marriage and then doing something about it was shocking, both to characters in the novel (her husband thinks she’s losing her mind when she moves out, and her own father suggests to his son-in-law that authority and coercion are needed), and to readers, who rejected and vilified The Awakening, leading Chopin to spend the remaining five years of her life in relative seclusion prior to her premature death at the age of 54.Powerful stuff and very well written, with the Louisiana setting adding to its charm. Deserves a higher average rating on LT!Quotes:On adultery, and seduction, I love the light touch of these words, and how they scandalized the world at the time:“His hand strayed to her beautiful shoulders, and he could feel the response of her flesh to his touch. He seated himself beside her and kissed her lightly upon the shoulder. ‘I thought you were going away,’ she said, in an uneven voice.‘I am, after I have said good night.’‘Good night,’ she murmured.He did not answer, except to continue to caress her. He did not say good night until she had become supple to his gentle, seductive entreaties.”On divorce, and ‘owning oneself’, again, shocking at the time:“She took his face between her hands and looked into it as if she would never withdraw her eyes more. She kissed him on the forehead, the eyes, the cheeks and the lips.‘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.”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 love, and separation:“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 marriage, and settling:“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 self-knowledge, 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……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 inner 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.”And this one:“It sometimes entered Mr. Pontellier’s mind to wonder if his wife were not growing a little unbalanced mentally. 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.”And:“…perhaps it is better to wake up after all, even to suffer, rather than to remain a dupe to illusions all one’s life.”Lastly, I like this description of a night walk to the beach:“There were strange, rare odors abroad – a tangle of the sea smell and of weeds and damp, new-plowed earth, mingled with the heavy perfume of a field of white blossoms somewhere near. But the night sat lightly upon the sea and the land. There was no weight of darkness; there were no shadows. The white light of the moon had fallen upon the world like a mystery and the softness of sleep.”

[citizenjoyce · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

I know this book supposed to be about the woman's sexual awakening and her awakening to the fact that, as a good wife and mother she's expected to subsume herself in the happiness of her family and she refuses to do such a thing. I was a little disappointed, though, that the only way she could think of expressing herself and asserting her individuality was through romance which I find to be many a woman's downfall and far from the meaning of life.

[suzannepalmieri · Bewertung: 5 von 5 Sternen]

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.

[jmoncton_1 · Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen]

This book falls under the sub-genre of 'books about women whose lives end tragically when society limits them in their choice of who they may love.' There are many great books in this category - Madame Bovary, The Age of Innocence, and Anna Karenina - just to name a few. Although I liked this story, I didn't feel the same empathy as I did with other great heroines. I have to say that it might have been because the audio narration was flat - the different character voices didn't display the angst that the protagonist, Edna Pontellier was experiencing. I have heard wonderful reviews of this book - and might have to give it another shot.

[marandaray · Bewertung: 2 von 5 Sternen]

I understand Mrs. P's 'Awakening' to her true self and identity and wants, but I don't think I have read about such a selfish and irresponsible character since Madame Bovary! It is really interesting how the two books take such similar twists ( that end with me feeling similar irritation and disrespect for the main characters), and yet I still really like both books; it is very infuriating to read a book and be upset by the turn of events because the characters are ridiculously simple minded and yet not be able to say you hate it! So yes, I liked this book, but golly it is so melodramatic and if Mrs. P is not bipolar then no one must be!

[amelish · Bewertung: 2 von 5 Sternen]

Read in Mrs. Eagleton's women-author-centered senior English class, along with "The Yellow Wallpaper" and...Nine Stories? Perhaps not women-centered after all, although she did make a great deal of Esme as a budding feminist (wtf).

For some reason I thought this book was super-funny and liked to read it while imagining robust Creole accents in my head.

[flying_monkeys_1 · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

Rating: 4 of 5I'm quite surprised by how much Edna still resonates even in today's world. The ending felt rushed, even five more pages would've deepened its impact. Overall, I enjoyed this story for what it was."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 worshiped 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 (p. 18)."

[hadriantheblind · Bewertung: 2 von 5 Sternen]

Dry and painful to read. The Awakening, a droll recounting of personal mistakes, will surely put anyone to sleep who attempts to read it.

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

Really did not sympathize with the protagonist.

[daniellamarie29 · Bewertung: 5 von 5 Sternen]

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.

[rainbowdarling · Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen]

I read this in high school as an English class assignment. On its own, it seemed like an okay book. The character, Edna, is a bit irritating in terms of characters who let things happen to them, but the way she takes control of her own destiny and the fallout from doing so is interesting, especially in the context of the time period. My own reaction to the book was colored by the fact that an English class has to tear it apart and find every ounce of symbolism that may or may not exist, but I think as a book on its own, it could be very enjoyable.

[aethercowboy · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

The Awakening is a defining work of feminism. It features the awakening of Edna Pontellier from her role as a traditional wife, mother, and woman in Louisiana.After taking a trip to a resort for a summer, she falls in love with the handsome Robert Lebrun, who in turn falls in love with her. Upon returning to her world, she determines that her life is not to be made up by societal roles, or by any sort of label, and one by one, she sheds the layers of her former self.Chopin's prose here wishes to free women from their labels, and let the world know that they are not property, or childbearers, or arm candy, but are in fact living, breathing people with the same rights as men.This book is recommended for readers of feminist literature (such as Charlotte Perkins Gillman).

[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.

[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.

[lynnb_64 · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

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.

[cinesnail88 · Bewertung: 4 von 5 Sternen]

This was an English class assigned read, but really I think it might have been the nicest one all year. Despite how much I disliked the character of Edna, the book itself brought up excellent points and was written exceedingly well. Definitely worth the time spent on it.

[ysmng_1 · Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen]

Good read. A woman trapped in a role as mother and wife and is not content. Taking into consideration that it was first published in 1899, this novel speaks volumes on women and self identity.

[tapestry100 · Bewertung: 3 von 5 Sternen]

A novel of growth, both personal and emotional, Kate Chopin's The Awakening follows the journey of Edna Pontellier, who after spending a summer vacationing with her husband and children, decides to give up the archetypical role of wife and mother and strikes out on her own, realizing there is more to life than what society deems appropriate for a woman. The principal reasoning for her "awakening" is the realization that she is in love with another man, and believes that he loves her in return. Feeling overpowered by her own life and obligations to family, she does what few women did in that time, and moved out of her home into another house, and begins a life that is her own.When The Awakening was first published, is was looked on as being "unwholesome," both in its independent attitude towards women and its rather frank attitude towards Edna Pontellier's sexual nature. In today's regard, the novel wouldn't be seen as being all that shocking, but it still speaks clearly for the need of independence and freedom in one's own life.To be frank, I had a hard time getting into the book. I think I found the flow of the writing to be distracting, and halfway through reading switched to an audio book, and was able to follow the story much more clearly this way. The story did prove to be powerful in its telling, and in how Edna finally moves forward with her life.

[jenjambon · Bewertung: 5 von 5 Sternen]

I have always loved this book. I am from Louisiana and we have a vacation home on Grand Isle (where I am sitting now and writing this). I know that many think of this as a feminist work and I do agree. However I have always had a problem with the ending. Chopin must let Edna die because that is what the readers of that time needed. Any other ending for Edna would have been even more scandalous. I would have loved to know what Chopin was thinking here. Was it to satisfy her readers moral expectations, or was there another meaning that was more personal? This is one I have read more than once and will read again I am sure.