International Short Stories: Two Portraits
Kate Chopin
United States, 1895
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kate Chopin (1852-1904) was born in the United States, in Missouri, the daughter of an Irish Catholic father and a French Creole mother. Her father died in 1855, and she was raised by her mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. In 1870, she married Oscar Chopin and lived with him and their six children in Louisiana. Her husband died in 1882.
In the early 1890s, Chopin gained national recognition as an outstanding short-story writer. Her major work, the novel The Awakening, appeared in 1899. Although his novel won the respect of literary critics, its sympathetic treatment of a woman’s sensuality shocked readers and reviewers throughout the United States. Her next collection of short stories was rejected by her publisher. Deeply hurt by the negative response to her work, Chopin wrote very little more. Her work remained virtually ignored until the 1960s.
THE CONTEXT OF THE STORY
The story takes place in the nineteenth century in the United States.
The title of Part I of the story is "The Wanton." Three dictionary definition of wanton are
1. an immoral or unchaste person,
2. a person who is playful,
3. a person who is undisciplined or spoiled,
The term is usually reserved for a woman.
The title of Part II of the story is "The Nun". A nun is a woman who belongs to a religious order and who has taken vows of chastity (virginity), poverty, and obedience. Other references to the Catholic religion include the baptismal font (a receptacle for holy water used to cleanse a person of original sin); convent (a building housing a community of nuns); the Blessed Sacrament (rite in which bread and wine are received as the body and blood of Jesus); the bleeding and agonizing Christ (Jesus Christ dying on the cross); and the Virgin Mary (the mother of Jesus Christ).
I
The Wanton
Alberta having looked not very long into life, had not looked very far. She put out her hands to touch things that pleased her and her lips to kiss them. Her eyes were deep brown wells that were drinking, drinking impressions and treasuring them in her soul. They were mysterious eyes and love looked out of them.
Alberta was very fond of her mamma who was really not her mamma; and the beatings which alternated with the most amiable and generous indulgence, were soon forgotten by the little one, always hoping that there would never be another, as she dried her eyes.
She liked the ladies who petted her and praised her beauty, and the artist who painted it naked, and the student who held her upon his knee and fondled kissed her while he taught her to read and spell.
There was cruel beating about that one day, when her mamma happened to be in the mood to think her too old for fondling. And the student had called her mamma some very vile names in his wrath, and had asked the woman what else she expected.
There was nothing very fixed or stable about her expectations — what-ever they — as she had forgotten them the following day, and Alberta, consoled with a fantastic bracelet for her plump little arm and a shower of bonbons, installed herself again upon the student’s knee. She liked nothing better, and in time was willing to take the beating if she might hold his attentions and her place in his affections and upon his knee.
Alberta cried very bitterly when he went away. The people about her seemed to be always coming and going. She had hardly the time to fix her affections upon the men and women who came into her life before they were gone again.
Her mama died one day — very suddenly; a self-inflicted death, she heard the people say. Alberta grieved sorely, for she forgot the beatings and remembered only the outbursts of a torrid affection. But she really did not belong anywhere then, nor to anybody. And when a lady and gentleman took her live with them, she went willingly as she would have gone anywhere, with any one. With them she met with more kindness and indulgence than she had ever known before in her life.
There were no more beatings; Alberta’s body was too beautiful to be beaten — it was made for love. She knew that herself; she had heard it since she had heard anything. But now she heard many things and learned many more. She did not lack for instruction in the wiles — the ways of stirring a man’s desire and holding it. Yet she did not need instruction — the secret was in her blood and looked out of her passionate, wanton eyes and showed in every motion of her seductive body.
At seventeen she was woman enough, so she had a lower. But as for that there did not seem to be much difference. Expect that she had gold now — plenty of it with to make herself appear more beautiful, and enough to fling with both hands into the laps of those who came whining and begging to her.
Alberta is a most beautiful woman, and she takes great care of her body for she knows that it brings her love to squander and gold to squander.
Some one has whispered in her ear:
"Be cautious, Alberta. Save, save your gold. The years are passing. The days are coming when youth slips away, when you will stretch out your hands for money and for love in vain. And what will be left for you but —"
Alberta shrunk in horror before the ptured depths of hideous degradation that would be left for her. But she consoles herself with the thought that such need never be — with death and oblivion always within her reach.
Alberta is capricious. She gives her love only when and where she chooses. One or two en have died because of her withholding it. There is a smooth-faced boy now who tease her with resistance; for Alberta does not know shame or reserve.
One day he seems to half-relent and another time he plays indifference, and she frets and she fumes and rages.
But he had best have a care; for since Alberta has added much wine to her wantonness she is apt to be vixenish; and she carries a knife.
II
The Nun
Alberta having looked not very long into life, had not looked very far. She put out her hands to touch things that pleased her, and her lips to kiss them. Her eyes were deep brown wells that were drinking, drinking, drinking impressions and treasuring them in her soul. They were mysterious eyes and love looked out of them.
It was a very holy woman who first took. Alberta by the hand. The thought of God alone dwelt in her mind, and his name and none other was on her lips.
When she showed Alberta the creeping insects, the blades of grass, the flowers and tress; the rain-drops falling from the clouds; the sky and the stars and the men and women moving on the earth, she taught her that it was God who had created all; that God was great, was good, was the Supreme Love.
And when Alberta would have put out her hands and her lips to touch the great and all-loving God, it was then the holy woman taught her that it is not with the hands and lips and eyes that we reach God, but with the soul; that the soul must be made perfect and the flesh subdued. And what is the soul but the inward thought ? And this the child was taught to keep spotless-pure, and fit as far a human soul can be, to hold intercourse with the all-wise and all-seeing God.
Her existence became a prayer. Evil things approached her not. The inherited sin of the blood must have been washed away at the baptismal font; font all the things of this world that she encountered — the pleasures, the trials and seven temptations, but turned her gaze within, through her soul up to the fountain of all love and every beatitude.
When Alberta had reached the age when with other women the languor of love creeps into the yeins an dreams begin, at such a period an overpowering impulse toward the purely spiritual possessed itself of her. She could no longer abide the sights, the sounds, the accidental happenings of life surrounding her, that tended but to disturb her contemplation of the heavenly existence.
It was then she went into the convent — the white convent on the hill that overlooks the river; the big convent whose long, dim corridors echo with the soft tread of a multitude of holy women; whose atmosphere of chastity, poverty and obedience penetrates to the soul through benumbed senses.
But all the holy women in the white convent, there is none so saintly as Alberta. Any one will tell you that who knows them. Even her pious guide and counsellor does not equal her in sanctity. Because Alberta is endowed with the powerful gift of a great love that lifts her above common mortals, close to the invisible throne. her ears seem to hear sounds that reach no other ears; and what her eyes see, only God and herself know. When the others are plunged in meditation, Alberta is steeped in an oblivious ecstasy. She kneels before the Blessed Sacrament with stiffened, tireless limbs; with absorbing eyes that drink in the holy mystery till it is a mystery no longer; but a real flood of celestial love deluging her soul. She does not hear the sound of bells nor the solf stir of disbanding numbers. She must be touched upon the shoulder; roused, awakened.
Alberta does not know that she is beautiful. If you were to tell so she would not blush and utter gentle protest and reproof as might the others. She would only smile, as though beauty were a thing that concerned her not. But she is beautiful, with the glow of a holy passion in her dark eyes. her face is thin and white, but illumined from within by a light which seems not of this world.
She does not walk upright; she could not, overpowered by the Divine Presence and the realization of her own nothingness. her hands, slender and blue-veined, and her delicate fingers seen to have been fashioned by God to be clasped and uplifted in prayer.
It is said — not broadcast, it is only whispered — that Alberta sees visions. Oh, the beautiful visions! The first of them came to her when she was rapped in suffering, in quivering contemplation of the bleeding and agonizing Christ. Oh, the dear God! Who loved her beyond the power of man to describe, to conceive. The God-man, the Man-God, suffering, bleeding, dying for her, Alberta, a worm upon the earth; dying that she might be saved from sin and transplanted among the heavenly delights. Oh, if she might die for him in return! But she could only abandon herself to his mercy and his love. "Into thy hands, Oh Lord! Into thy hands!"
She pressed her lips upon the bleeding wounds and the Divine Blood transfigured her. the Virgin Mary enfolded her in her mantle. She could not describe in words the ecstasy; that taste of the Divine love which only the souls of the transplanted could endure in its awful and complete intensity. She, Alberta had received this sign of Divine favor; this foretaste of heavenly bliss. For an hour she had swooned in rapture; she had lived in Christ. Oh, the beautiful visions!
The visions come often to Alberta now, refreshing and strengthening her soul; it is being talked about a little in whispers.
And it is said that certain afflicted persons have been helped by her prayers. And others having abounding faith, have been cured of bodily ailments by the touch of her beautiful hands.
Kate Chopin
United States, 1895
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kate Chopin (1852-1904) was born in the United States, in Missouri, the daughter of an Irish Catholic father and a French Creole mother. Her father died in 1855, and she was raised by her mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. In 1870, she married Oscar Chopin and lived with him and their six children in Louisiana. Her husband died in 1882.
In the early 1890s, Chopin gained national recognition as an outstanding short-story writer. Her major work, the novel The Awakening, appeared in 1899. Although his novel won the respect of literary critics, its sympathetic treatment of a woman’s sensuality shocked readers and reviewers throughout the United States. Her next collection of short stories was rejected by her publisher. Deeply hurt by the negative response to her work, Chopin wrote very little more. Her work remained virtually ignored until the 1960s.
THE CONTEXT OF THE STORY
The story takes place in the nineteenth century in the United States.
The title of Part I of the story is "The Wanton." Three dictionary definition of wanton are
1. an immoral or unchaste person,
2. a person who is playful,
3. a person who is undisciplined or spoiled,
The term is usually reserved for a woman.
The title of Part II of the story is "The Nun". A nun is a woman who belongs to a religious order and who has taken vows of chastity (virginity), poverty, and obedience. Other references to the Catholic religion include the baptismal font (a receptacle for holy water used to cleanse a person of original sin); convent (a building housing a community of nuns); the Blessed Sacrament (rite in which bread and wine are received as the body and blood of Jesus); the bleeding and agonizing Christ (Jesus Christ dying on the cross); and the Virgin Mary (the mother of Jesus Christ).
I
The Wanton
Alberta having looked not very long into life, had not looked very far. She put out her hands to touch things that pleased her and her lips to kiss them. Her eyes were deep brown wells that were drinking, drinking impressions and treasuring them in her soul. They were mysterious eyes and love looked out of them.
Alberta was very fond of her mamma who was really not her mamma; and the beatings which alternated with the most amiable and generous indulgence, were soon forgotten by the little one, always hoping that there would never be another, as she dried her eyes.
She liked the ladies who petted her and praised her beauty, and the artist who painted it naked, and the student who held her upon his knee and fondled kissed her while he taught her to read and spell.
There was cruel beating about that one day, when her mamma happened to be in the mood to think her too old for fondling. And the student had called her mamma some very vile names in his wrath, and had asked the woman what else she expected.
There was nothing very fixed or stable about her expectations — what-ever they — as she had forgotten them the following day, and Alberta, consoled with a fantastic bracelet for her plump little arm and a shower of bonbons, installed herself again upon the student’s knee. She liked nothing better, and in time was willing to take the beating if she might hold his attentions and her place in his affections and upon his knee.
Alberta cried very bitterly when he went away. The people about her seemed to be always coming and going. She had hardly the time to fix her affections upon the men and women who came into her life before they were gone again.
Her mama died one day — very suddenly; a self-inflicted death, she heard the people say. Alberta grieved sorely, for she forgot the beatings and remembered only the outbursts of a torrid affection. But she really did not belong anywhere then, nor to anybody. And when a lady and gentleman took her live with them, she went willingly as she would have gone anywhere, with any one. With them she met with more kindness and indulgence than she had ever known before in her life.
There were no more beatings; Alberta’s body was too beautiful to be beaten — it was made for love. She knew that herself; she had heard it since she had heard anything. But now she heard many things and learned many more. She did not lack for instruction in the wiles — the ways of stirring a man’s desire and holding it. Yet she did not need instruction — the secret was in her blood and looked out of her passionate, wanton eyes and showed in every motion of her seductive body.
At seventeen she was woman enough, so she had a lower. But as for that there did not seem to be much difference. Expect that she had gold now — plenty of it with to make herself appear more beautiful, and enough to fling with both hands into the laps of those who came whining and begging to her.
Alberta is a most beautiful woman, and she takes great care of her body for she knows that it brings her love to squander and gold to squander.
Some one has whispered in her ear:
"Be cautious, Alberta. Save, save your gold. The years are passing. The days are coming when youth slips away, when you will stretch out your hands for money and for love in vain. And what will be left for you but —"
Alberta shrunk in horror before the ptured depths of hideous degradation that would be left for her. But she consoles herself with the thought that such need never be — with death and oblivion always within her reach.
Alberta is capricious. She gives her love only when and where she chooses. One or two en have died because of her withholding it. There is a smooth-faced boy now who tease her with resistance; for Alberta does not know shame or reserve.
One day he seems to half-relent and another time he plays indifference, and she frets and she fumes and rages.
But he had best have a care; for since Alberta has added much wine to her wantonness she is apt to be vixenish; and she carries a knife.
II
The Nun
Alberta having looked not very long into life, had not looked very far. She put out her hands to touch things that pleased her, and her lips to kiss them. Her eyes were deep brown wells that were drinking, drinking, drinking impressions and treasuring them in her soul. They were mysterious eyes and love looked out of them.
It was a very holy woman who first took. Alberta by the hand. The thought of God alone dwelt in her mind, and his name and none other was on her lips.
When she showed Alberta the creeping insects, the blades of grass, the flowers and tress; the rain-drops falling from the clouds; the sky and the stars and the men and women moving on the earth, she taught her that it was God who had created all; that God was great, was good, was the Supreme Love.
And when Alberta would have put out her hands and her lips to touch the great and all-loving God, it was then the holy woman taught her that it is not with the hands and lips and eyes that we reach God, but with the soul; that the soul must be made perfect and the flesh subdued. And what is the soul but the inward thought ? And this the child was taught to keep spotless-pure, and fit as far a human soul can be, to hold intercourse with the all-wise and all-seeing God.
Her existence became a prayer. Evil things approached her not. The inherited sin of the blood must have been washed away at the baptismal font; font all the things of this world that she encountered — the pleasures, the trials and seven temptations, but turned her gaze within, through her soul up to the fountain of all love and every beatitude.
When Alberta had reached the age when with other women the languor of love creeps into the yeins an dreams begin, at such a period an overpowering impulse toward the purely spiritual possessed itself of her. She could no longer abide the sights, the sounds, the accidental happenings of life surrounding her, that tended but to disturb her contemplation of the heavenly existence.
It was then she went into the convent — the white convent on the hill that overlooks the river; the big convent whose long, dim corridors echo with the soft tread of a multitude of holy women; whose atmosphere of chastity, poverty and obedience penetrates to the soul through benumbed senses.
But all the holy women in the white convent, there is none so saintly as Alberta. Any one will tell you that who knows them. Even her pious guide and counsellor does not equal her in sanctity. Because Alberta is endowed with the powerful gift of a great love that lifts her above common mortals, close to the invisible throne. her ears seem to hear sounds that reach no other ears; and what her eyes see, only God and herself know. When the others are plunged in meditation, Alberta is steeped in an oblivious ecstasy. She kneels before the Blessed Sacrament with stiffened, tireless limbs; with absorbing eyes that drink in the holy mystery till it is a mystery no longer; but a real flood of celestial love deluging her soul. She does not hear the sound of bells nor the solf stir of disbanding numbers. She must be touched upon the shoulder; roused, awakened.
Alberta does not know that she is beautiful. If you were to tell so she would not blush and utter gentle protest and reproof as might the others. She would only smile, as though beauty were a thing that concerned her not. But she is beautiful, with the glow of a holy passion in her dark eyes. her face is thin and white, but illumined from within by a light which seems not of this world.
She does not walk upright; she could not, overpowered by the Divine Presence and the realization of her own nothingness. her hands, slender and blue-veined, and her delicate fingers seen to have been fashioned by God to be clasped and uplifted in prayer.
It is said — not broadcast, it is only whispered — that Alberta sees visions. Oh, the beautiful visions! The first of them came to her when she was rapped in suffering, in quivering contemplation of the bleeding and agonizing Christ. Oh, the dear God! Who loved her beyond the power of man to describe, to conceive. The God-man, the Man-God, suffering, bleeding, dying for her, Alberta, a worm upon the earth; dying that she might be saved from sin and transplanted among the heavenly delights. Oh, if she might die for him in return! But she could only abandon herself to his mercy and his love. "Into thy hands, Oh Lord! Into thy hands!"
She pressed her lips upon the bleeding wounds and the Divine Blood transfigured her. the Virgin Mary enfolded her in her mantle. She could not describe in words the ecstasy; that taste of the Divine love which only the souls of the transplanted could endure in its awful and complete intensity. She, Alberta had received this sign of Divine favor; this foretaste of heavenly bliss. For an hour she had swooned in rapture; she had lived in Christ. Oh, the beautiful visions!
The visions come often to Alberta now, refreshing and strengthening her soul; it is being talked about a little in whispers.
And it is said that certain afflicted persons have been helped by her prayers. And others having abounding faith, have been cured of bodily ailments by the touch of her beautiful hands.
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