I'm Amy A. Cowan and this is Mind Full of Marbles book reviews in which I read books that I find at thrift stores, used bookstores, library sales, basically books that are secondhand. If you're ever interested in reading any of these books, I highly recommend going to your local library and finding them. Now, with that said, in this inaugural review, I read Kate Chopin's The Awakening, in which I started a book review series, a 19th century woman adds some excitement to her life, and I confuse a couple of definitely mustachioed men. What does one do with the review of a classic? I mean, how should I review this? Should I be using the text as a way to understand a previous, very far-removed generation? Is this an opportunity to recontextualize the novel's themes into today's standards? Should I just review the book regardless of its historical merit? How important is historical merit? By choosing The Awakening by Kate Chopin as the first regular book I review, I may set an unintended precedent for future reads wherein I'm stuck reading classics. This inaugural review could have massive implications for future reviews. Luckily, I don't think I have to worry about any of that. This is not an academic setting. I am not a literature specialist. I am an individual on the internet who enjoys reading books, and now I want to talk about them. I will review any subsequent books, classic or contemporary, literary or smut, based on how much I enjoyed them and if I would recommend them. Will I recognize the historical importance of a text? Of course, I believe period context is important. Does that mean that I think every classic needs to be read? Of course not. The literary canon is not a static, unchanging monolith that looms over every Barnes and Noble. Also, what is classic today may not be classic tomorrow. I firmly believe in read what you want to read, even if that means never picking up a classic and just reading the smuttiest smut that has ever smutted. I'm just happy to encourage reading. Even if you disagree with every pump of blood through your heart, I'm just happy to be able to talk about my lifelong passion for books and maybe give a few recommendations. Additionally, I think this book is perfect. I found it at a used bookstore I frequent. The idea behind this series is that I review books that I stumble upon. What's a more perfect encapsulation of this series than a flimsy paper book with somebody else's college notes in it? One with a price tag sticker from a defunct, fondly remembered bookstore on the back. The Awakening is that book. That being said and out of the way, I cannot say that I loved my time with Kate Chopin's 1899 novel The Awakening. The writing is beautiful and it is one of the most important feminist works, but the novel is not for me. I prefer things to happen while I'm reading. The Awakening follows Edna, a late 19th century woman trapped in a loveless, boring marriage. Her husband, whose name I could not remember, but it is apparently Leonce, works too much and never pays attention to her. While on vacation, she meets a couple of men with whom she starts an affair. After that, there are dinner parties and longing and the occasional reference to lustful behavior, but it's never explicit. The book explores the inner workings of a housewife who cannot escape the restrictions that society has placed on her. The book was considered taboo despite its lack of explicit language. How dare we think of a mother as a sexual being? How dare a woman wish for more than motherhood? How dare a woman long for desire? The highlight of the book is its willingness to think of Enna as the aforementioned mother as well as a woman with desires outside of the home, As well as sexual needs. Edna has a staff of people around her, so it seems that while domesticity is supposed to be her realm, she doesn't have any actual domestic responsibilities. She has a maid and a nanny to take care of her children. Only a woman who has that much help would have enough free time to entertain two extramarital companions. However, I don't think the moral of the story is fire some people and you'll be guaranteed marital fidelity. That would be a bizarre thesis statement for a book about how women should be seen as more than domestic servants. I'm sure the help, quote unquote, is meant to mirror Edna. They have jobs, but those jobs are still relegated to domestic roles. Interestingly, they are in a worse position than Edna because presumably they also have families they take care of. They care for their families as well as Edna's. It's all very limiting. Edna never thinks about this, so she's kind of selfish in this way. Chopin is saying that women can be lots of things, both good and bad, a dreamer, a lover, a cheater, and a self-centered asshole. However, the language is dense and it's missing the shock value that it may have engendered when it was first published in 1899. This book is like a grandmother book to Wifey by Judy Blume, another book about infidelity. I don't think Wifey is as shocking today as it was when the book was published in the 70s. The Awakening and Wifey share that in common. However, since Wifey is more contemporary, you don't have a lot of the cultural issues, particularly the way people of other races are spoken about that come from reading a book from 1899. If you need an aged book about infidelity, I suggest Wifey instead. More brunch and fewer profiterals. The Awakening is a good book to read if you want a glimpse into women from that specific period or if you really enjoy long scenes around tea time and vacations that last months. And if you know what a profiteral is, I barely know what it is and I just used it in a sentence. So should you read The Awakening by Kate Chopin? 3.5 stars out of 5. If you enjoy the genre, it's something you should try. Alright, major spoilers for The Awakening. Just, um, so at the end of the book, she ends up just walking into the ocean and dying, which is a really poetic way to really symbolize, like, that the only way out, like, that she's, she's screwed into this life and the only way out is through a poetic death. But it's 1899, I wonder, and, like, she's rich, so I'm like, why couldn't you just, like, like, started in another country? Like, back then, you could, like, go, like, Across the country, like, she lives, I think it takes place in New Orleans, it's been a while, I don't remember. She could have just, like, gone to Oregon and being all like, yeah, my name is not Edna, it's Sally, and I'm just, I'm just a poor widower. She could have completely restarted her life, although that doesn't change the societal restrictions that are placed on women. Yeah, I guess, I guess, I guess walking into the ocean is the only thing she could do, as grim as that is. Um, Yeah, I'm trying to think of another country that could probably be more amenable to women's rights in 1899, but I fail to think of one. Gosh. That's grim, yeah. I think I just talked myself into being completely more understanding of the ending of the book than I was now, but thank you for listening to the first review of Of my new series, Mind Full of Marbles, book reviews. It's something that I've been wanting to do for a while. I just want to talk about other books besides The Babysitter's Club and everything like that. And I find some crazy books at like random library sales and everything that I just want to talk about these books. They have like crazy covers and I just want to tell you all about them. I'll leave kind of really big spoilers for This section. So thank you for continuing to listen through the ending credits. Remember, if you want, if you're interested in any of these books, I highly recommend going to your local library and finding the specific book. Libraries are peachy keen. So thank you for listening. I'm Amy A. Cowan. You know what? Visit your local library. Keep reading. Later days.
