The Awakening (CH 12-20)

Chapter 12 begins with Edna Pontellier waking from her overnight slumber in the hammock and preparing to spend the day with Robert at the Cheniere Caminada. During their adventure, they always seem to be in the presence of the lovers, the lady in black, and Monsieur Farival. Although they are seemingly background characters, the lovers and the lady and black seem to foil each other, almost representing the two sides of Edna's life: passion(the lovers), and piety/convention(lady in black). While boarding the boat going to the Cheniere, Chopin describes the lovers as "all alone. They saw nothing, they heard nothing", while the lady in black "counted her beads for the third time" (Chopin 32). The lovers are lost in love and passion, unperturbed by constraints of conventional married life, while the pious lady in black experiences the monotony of fulfilling her duties and staying true to her promise to religion.

Moreover, when the lovers are on the boat, a young Spanish girl conversing with Robert asks , "'Are those two married over there- leaning on each other?", and he playfully responds, "Of course not" as if it were obvious (34). It is astonishing to think that the Creole society approaches marriage in such a way that publicly demonstrated passion and love is thought of as juvenile and almost comical, and makes it easier to understand Edna's feelings of domestic entrapment and boredom.

Later in the reading, after Edna exits the service early and spends a majority of the day napping, she spends the afternoon with her "buddy", Robert. Although they seem to be no more than friendly companions, both Edna and Robert show symptoms of a big fat crush whenever they are with each other. When Edna awoke from her nap, "she peeped out at him two or three times" through the window while washing up in the bathroom like a schoolgirl stealing glances at the boy on the football team (37). Similarly, when Robert saw Edna coming to join him under the orange tree, "illumination broke over his whole face" (37). Edna gets more excited to spend more time with Robert than she does with her own husband, which represents her human nature as a factor of her dissatisfaction with being a housewife, and therefore her incompetence as such.

That evening at dinner, Edna's heart gets pulled in various directions when she hears Robert's decision to move to Mexico, effective the next day. Her reaction is described as "blank" and "bewildered", kindling an "embarrassed and uneasy" response from Robert (41). Edna's confusion and frustration jumps off the page through her shocked and accusatory speech, and surprisingly, her sudden desire to attend to " a hundred things demanding her attention indoors" (43). When she knew her alternate happy-reality as Robert's love was unattainable, she throws herself back into custom and the chores of her actual reality. She realizes this, diagnosing herself with "symptoms of infatuation" towards Robert which caused her to feel shock and grief when she learned he was suddenly leaving her life, and caused her to face the grave situation of her unhappy reality. When the person that provided her with a breath of fresh air(aka Robert) left her life, it has "taken the brightness, color, meaning out of everything", leaving her life as if it was "a faded garment no longer worth wearing" (46).

Reflecting upon her feelings towards her life as a married mother, she thinks "The present alone was significant; to torture her as it was doing then with the biting conviction that she had lost that which she ahd held, that she had been denied that which her impassioned, newly awakened being demanded" (45).

After this realization, Mrs. Pontellier evolve into a more independent, almost selfish person, and consequently grows more and more disagreeable with her husband/family lifestyle. This side of her shows itself after she bickers with Mr. Pontellier in chapter 17 about Tuesday evening Programme and dinner. She finds herself alone in her house stomping on her wedding ring and shattering a vase out of anger, claiming that "the crash and clatter were what she wanted to hear", even though she quickly regathers herself and pretends like nothing is wrong when her maid passes by and offers to clean up the mess, slipping the ring back on her finger.

Though Edna has shown difference in character and independence from Creole society norms throughout the books, her actions have never reflected her rogue thoughts as much as they did in this past reading. From the very start of Chapter 12, Edna was" blindly following whatever impulse moved her, as if she had freed her soul of responsibility"(32). She feels free amongst the waves and in the half darkness of the night; she is unafraid to admit her childish love for Robert and selfish desire to begin work as an artist once more instead of solely being a housewife. What is so intriguing and impressive is that she recognizes these changes, "realizing that she herself 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 changer her environment, she did not yet suspect" (40). Other people begin to notice her evolution as an individual as well, including her husband and her friends. After visiting with Mrs. Pontellier and discussing Roberts travels in Mexico, Victor ends chapter 20 admiring the woman, saying "The city atmosphere has improved her. Some way she doesn’t seem like the same woman" (61).

The Awakening: Chapters 1-11

Edna and her husband’s relationship is expressed in the first chapter of the novel when Robert and Edna come up from the beach. After seeing she is sunburnt, Mr. Pontellier chastises his wife, regarding her as “a valuable piece of personal property which has suffered some damage” (Chopin 3). This foreshadows the rocky relationship between the two, and how Edna is viewed by both her husband and society as an object and possession. Robert represents the inescapability at the time of male influence. In chapter 5, he encourages Mrs. Pontellier to go for a bath, and while she initially refuses, he makes the decision for her, grabbing her hat and leading her to the beach. In chapter 7, Ms. Pontellier and Madame Ratignolle go for a walk along the beach, without Robert or their children. While, at first, Madame Ratignolle wants to bring her children, Ms. Pontellier convinces her to go without them. However, Madame Ratignolle insists that she brings her needlework, a sign that the woman is unable to escape from her duty and role as a housewife. After Edna and Adele’s conversation about Edna’s childhood memories, their peace is interrupted by Robert and their children, proving that their freedom is short lived and their role as a housewife is inescapable. We see how Edna is affected by society’s expectations of her as a woman. In Chapter 11, while staying outside in the hammock after a long night, her husband requests for her to come into the house. She doesn’t obey his wishes, a contrast to how she would have normally listened and followed her husband. Chopin writes of Edna’s obedience to her husband, saying, “She would, through habit, have yielded to his desire; not with any sense of submission or obedience to his compelling wishes, but unthinkingly, as we walk, move, sit, stand, go through the daily treadmill of the life which has been portioned out to us” (41). Even unwillingly, Edna thoughtlessly obeys her husband because she has been almost trained to do so, by her husband and society’s role for her. However, this scene shows Edna’s defiance towards her husband, reprimanding him for speaking to her in a harsh tone and refusing to follow his request of coming inside. This shows Edna acting as an individual rather than a housewife. The Pontellier marriage is also a product of Edna’s defiance, as she found Mr. Pontellier much more appealing when her father and sister opposed the marriage because of his religious affiliation. 

Edna is described as not a mother-woman. This automatically separates her from many of the characters in the novel, one of which being her friend Adele Ratignolle. In the beginning of the novel, Mr. Pontellier describes a worry towards Edna’s care of the children. He noticed that when one of their boys would fall, the child would comfort himself and move on quickly rather than finding solace in his mother. Mr. Pontellier compares his wife to the others on the island. While the other women “idolize their children” and “worship their husbands” (10), Edna is often disconnected from her children and husband. Chapter 7 describes Enda’s relationship with her children in detail as well. Chopin writes that Edna “was fond of her children in an uneven, impulsive way. She would sometimes gather them passionately to her heart; she would sometimes forget them” (25). She would also go on to say that she would not miss her children when they were apart, even calling their absence a relief, because she knew they were safe. Being away from her children allows her to feel a sense of release or freedom, as she did not assume the role of a mother willingly.

In the chapters, there is a common theme of birds. The parrot in the beginning of the novel may represent Edna, who feels trapped by societal pressure and her marriage. In chapter 9 during the gathering of the families of the island, Edna describes her associating with music and different visions. In one piano piece, which she has nicknamed “Solitude”, she envisions a mad standing naked at a beach shore, watching a bird fly away. The bird, in this case, shows that Edna finds liberation and freedom while listening to music, as the animal is flying away from grounded reality and towards the greater, inconceivable horizon. Edna’s relief in music is also evident in her reaction to Mademoiselle Reisz playing the piano, as the song brought her to tears. Music 

The Crucible: Act 4

 

In the beginning of Act Four of the Crucible, the town is described as having “cows wandering the highroads” and “orphans wondering from house to house” (115, 121). This imagery paints the disarray of society when it’s people turn against each other, and exemplifies the negative changes that have developed over the course of the play. It also adds to the sense of confusion, hopelessness, and desperation that many of the characters feel. 

The leaders’ of the towns regard for Hale has also drastically changed. Danforth is suspicious of Hale’s presence and exclaims that he “has no authority here” (114). This is ironic as Hale was the one who first lead the hunt for witches in the town, however his character shift is exemplified when he says, “…where I turned the eye of my great faith, blood flowed up. Beware, Goody Proctor- cleave to no faith when faith brings blood” (122). Hale has become the religious voice of reason in the town and points out the wrongness of the hangings. He states that while the people of the town claim to be doing God’s work, they have in reality turned away from Christianity. Danforth’s interpretation of righteous actions in the name of God are ironically closer to the Devil’s. For example, he talks of the “perfection of their punishment” (120). Hell is regarded as the place where sinners receive their punishment, so therefore Danforth could be interpreted as creating a Hell on Earth. Continually, when Proctor confesses to being a witch, Hathorne, Parris, and Danforth react with excitement, and Proctor point out the hypocrisy of this with, “Why do you cry it? It is evil, is it not? It is evil” (127). If they were true followers of God, then they would not have so much joy in more of what they consider to be evil in their community. The leaders of the witch hunt are more focused on saving their reputation than hearing the truth. 

After Proctor confesses to witchcraft, he refuses to accuse anyone else. This moment parallels McCarthyism, however, Proctor attempts to challenge the system. It separates him from most of the accused in his refusal to transfer over guilt to others. The importance of one’s name is also exemplified in Proctor’s refusal to sign his name on the confession. The town leaders want to use it to quell a possible rebellion and to help validate the earlier hangings, but Proctor exclaims, “I have given you my soul; leave me my name!” (133). In Proctor’s refusal, he comes to the understanding of what a good reputation truly means. In the beginning of the novel, he was hesitant to testify against Abigail as he was afraid to damage his reputation, but now Proctor regains his honestly and dies for the greater purpose of ending the witch hunt.  

The Crucible: Act 3

 At the start of Act III, the trials and proceedings are fully fledged, with nearly “four hundred in jails,” (Miller 81). The rest of the judges and officials of the court are introduced by Arthur Miller. Judge Danforth, Judge Hathorne, Reverend Hale, and Reverend Parris are the most powerful individuals of the court by law, however, they are under the manipulation of the girls. In Act III, the dynamic character development of Hale progresses as he becomes an obvious foil to Reverend Parris. Hale, annoyingly timid at times, seems to be the only person with power in the court that openly questions the validity of the girls’ claims and reasons with the virtuous motives of the townspeople. When John Proctor presents the deposition for Rebeca Nurse’s innocence to Judge Danforth, Hale “delicately” points out that the defendants are “all landholding farmers, members of the church” while Parris invalidates the townspeoples’ signatures by exclaiming “to enlist Danforth’s sarcasm: Their good opinion!” (86). Hale confronts Parris’ ridiculous outburst of emotion and accusations by retorting, “Is every defense an attack upon the court? Can no one— ?” (87). This line seems to be a reference to MccArthyism because anybody who questioned the validity and integrity of the court was accused of conspiring against America as a communist, or in this case the Antichrist. Unfortunately, Danforth believes that the crimes of witchcraft committed are “ipso facto,” meaning that the so-called crimes are a direct consequence of collusion with the Devil (93). His blinded commentary portrays how deluded Danforth truly is due to the fear the girls have provoked, regardless of how intelligent and well-versed he is in law. In fact, he uses his knowledge in law by confirming, “a person is either with this court or he must be counted against it, there is no road between” (87). His words about honor and the truth create an “us-versus-them” mentality and a divided environment between the people trying to save themselves from persecution. As Proctor presents more evidence and background context as to why the girls are lying, Parris is “hardly able to contain his anger and fear” of being exposed for fraud (93). If these trials are deemed falsehoods, then Parris’s entire reputation and status— as well as many others— are ruined. The self-obsessive Puritan values sway Parris to preserve his self-image at the expense of honor, others’ livelihoods, and justice, which is ironically the most unChristian way to act. 

Additionally, Mary Warren nervously comes to court with John Proctor to denounce the fraudulent claims of witchcraft. After "faintly" answering Danforth’s questions, her honesty is undermined by Abigail until John exposes Parris for previously knowing about them dancing in the woods (95). Parris “unwillingly” admits to Danforth, and his attitude reflects everybody else’s issues with facing the truth (98). The tone shows just how grudgingly people will admit their mistakes, lies, or iniquity. Even John Proctor, who is sensible and honest, wants to avoid using his crimes of adultery as evidence against Abigail’s integrity. He is pushed to the edge of anger, even leaping “‘at Abigail, grabbing her by the hair,” before he admits his sin: it is his last resort for justice for Elizabeth. John unveils the important missing link in their perverted investigation for the truth when he declares to Danforth that “it is a whore’s vengeance” for why they have been hanging people— not witchcraft (103). It is perhaps more horrifying to believe that the court is “pulling Heaven down and lifting up a whore,” instead of protecting Christianity by killing witches (111). This harsh reality is why Danforth is further inclined to believe the girls’ delusions of spirits. The fear of the devil, the fear of sinning, the fear of shame, and the fear of misusing the law for murder keeps everyone under the manipulation of Abigail, and it seems that she will go to any lengths to keep it that way. 

In the last two pages, everything goes haywire. Mary caves into the girls' pretending that her spirit was attacked them and she cries "Abby, Abby, I'll never hurt you more!" while Abigail accepts her with open arms due to her "infinite charity" (111). Proctor goes insane with rage screaming "God damns our kind especially, and we will burn, we will burn together!" (111). Even Hale, the only one who tried to listen to the truth, "denounces these proceedings" and slams the door to leave (111). The ending to Act III is nihilistic because anyone who even tried to preserve justice, morality, or protect others has horrible outcomes, and Miller seems to be making a statement about how much we as humans will allow to happen if we feel threatened enough.

The Crucible Act Two

Act Two begins with an eerie foreshadowing scene. An innocent rabbit wandered into the Proctor household and was killed by Elizabeth for super, much like the innocent people in Salem who will soon be hanged for "being witches". It is also a disheartening scene because it highlights John and Elizabeth's marriage troubles. John Proctor secretly seasons the stew and while this is not a severe sinful act, like his affair, he is nonetheless going behind his wife's back again. 

Abigail, Betty, and Mary Warren are quickly rising to power. Even though they are essentially the lowest status on the social ladder, since they are young unmarried girls, the townspeople overwhelmingly believe their claims. Realizing that fear is a very controlling emotion, the young girls take advantage of this and then begin to let their newfound power get to their head. Mary Warren, for example, defies John Proctors authority after her day at court. She believes she can do as she pleases since she is  an "official of the court". She tells the Proctors that she will be at court every day, she will "not stand whipping any more", and that she will "not be ordered to bed no more" (Miller 57). During the first court meeting, Mary Warren saved Elizabeth's life by saying she does not suspect that Elizabeth is a witch. Mary Warren does, however, hold this power over the Proctors and they understand that she could change her mind quickly, so they must submit to her.  

It is interesting to note that the only commandment John could not remember is the commandment that states "thou shalt not commit adultery". Much like he "forgot" it when he had an affair with Abigail. This brings into question his faith and perhaps suggests that the devil has had an influence on him. 

Elizabeth believes Abigail wants to be with John and that she will go to any lengths to attain this, even kill Elizabeth. To ensure that she is found guilty for being a witch, Elizabeth asks that John speaks to Abigail to clarify that he will never be with her again. I admire Elizabeth's mature handling of the situation. She seems to be the voice of reason for the majority of this act. In between John's outbursts she stays calm and tries to reason with him and even though John slept with another woman, she is not excessively bitter about it. Elizabeth is understanding and realizes that his guilt is eating away at him. Compassionately she tells him, "I do not judge you. The magistrate sits in your heart that judges you. I never thought you but a good man, John- only somewhat bewildered (Miller 52). Elizabeth points out that John is judging himself more than anyone else. His guilt over his act of adultery begins to eat away at him and leads to a dilemma. The big question is, will he maintain his good reputation and stay quiet or admit his sin in order to expose Abigail and save his wife?