Kate Chopin (1850–1904): Life, Works, and Literary Legacy

"A friend who knows me as well as anyone is capable of knowing me ... told me that I had a way in conversation of discovering a person's characteristics ... while they knew no more about me at the end than they knew at the beginning of the conversation." (Commonplace Book)

Overview of Kate Chopin's Literary Reputation and Historical Trajectory. Kate Chopin’s fortunes as an author fluctuated wildly, both in her own era and later. She began writing rather late in life but soon experienced impressive success, quickly winning admiration for vivid, well-crafted stories. These works were often populated by memorable characters and often set in the ethnic melting pot of Louisiana (especially New Orleans), where Cajun, Creole, American, and African-American cultures mixed and where a variety of fascinating dialects were spoken. Women are often crucial and intriguing figures in Chopin’s stories, but it was her great but highly unconventional novel The Awakening, which focused on one unconventional woman, that effectively destroyed Chopin’s career just when she was nearing the summit of success.

In the five years after the publication of that "scandalous" book, her productivity radically decreased, and in the decades that followed her death she was largely forgotten. By the mid-20th century, however, scholars began paying her increasing attention, and it was The Awakening, ironically, that excited the most interest. A novel that had once been condemned as shocking and immoral was now often praised for its subtle skill and its frank honesty, especially in portraying the often constricted lives of women. Thus, the very book that had helped wreck her career was now responsible for its revival, and since the mid-1960s Chopin has increasingly been recognized as one of the finest American women authors and indeed as one of the most significant writers of her time.

Early Life, Family Background, and Childhood Influences in St. Louis. Kate Chopin’s life began in St. Louis, Missouri, where she was born on February 8, 1850, to Thomas O’Flaherty, a successful businessman who had emigrated from Ireland, and Elizabeth Faris, the descendant of an old and once-prominent family of French-speaking Creoles. In 1855 young Kate, whose family was Catholic on both sides, began attending school at the Sacred Heart Academy, where she was strongly influenced by her curriculum, teachers, and friends. In November 1855, however, tragedy struck when her father was one of many people killed in a train wreck caused by a bridge collapse. Kate’s mother never remarried, choosing instead to raise young Kate in a house managed by women, where she was greatly influenced by female relatives, including a great-grandmother who was a great storyteller.

When the Civil War began in 1861, the O’Flahertys were sympathetic to the South, and indeed Kate’s half-brother George enlisted in the Confederate forces, eventually dying in captivity in 1863. After St. Louis was occupied by Federal troops, Kate herself ripped down a Union flag hung on her family’s porch and was nearly apprehended by local authorities before a family friend interceded on her behalf. When another flag was hoisted over the O’Flaherty home, the slaves who had previously served the family seized their freedom (Gilbert 1,043–1,044).

Marriage, Life in Louisiana, and Early Personal Loss. Even as a teenager Kate O’Flaherty was a bright, well-read, independent thinker; a notebook of her readings and thoughts sometimes expressed impatience with the shallow social life she was often expected to lead, including frivolous parties and courtships. In 1869, however, she met Oscar Chopin, a young Creole from New Orleans, who would soon become her husband. Kate herself visited New Orleans that same year, and on June 9, 1870, she and Oscar were married, leaving shortly thereafter for a honeymoon that took them to Philadelphia and New York and then to Europe, where they traveled in Germany, Switzerland, and France just as war was breaking out between the Prussians and the French.

Returning to New Orleans by fall 1870, the young couple seemed to have been genuinely happy; Oscar worked as a cotton merchant, and Kate spent much of her time tending to the children (eventually six in all) who now began arriving with impressive regularity. Kate loved to walk, observe, and think, although most of her writing at this time seems to have been confined to personal letters. Oscar, meanwhile, tended to his business while also becoming involved in the White League, an organization opposed to Reconstruction. The group actually seized brief control of New Orleans in 1874, and although Oscar fought in the resulting battle, over the next few years his main concern was with his failing business rather than with racial politics.

By 1879 he and Kate had relocated to rural Natchitoches Parish, where Oscar opened a general store in tiny Cloutierville. Kate’s independent, sophisticated ways raised eyebrows among the locals, but despite her remote location she continued reading "advanced" authors and thinking for herself. Tragedy struck again, however, when Oscar died of malaria in December 1882, leaving Kate with a large family and many debts. Nevertheless, she coped well; she settled the debts, took over the store, and apparently even began an affair with an attractive but abusive married man who may well have provided the model for various characters in her later fiction (Gilbert 1,047–1,048; Toth 163–175).

Return to St. Louis, Early Literary Endeavors, and Literary Style. By 1884, however, Chopin had left Louisiana for good (except for occasional visits), returning to St. Louis. Her beloved mother died in 1885. Chopin now began to associate with some of the leading intellectuals and writers of the city. She also began to write, hoping for publication and encouraged in part by her doctor, who had recognized her talent in her letters from Louisiana. Her style was notably influenced by the great French author Guy de Maupassant, whose stories she admired for their honesty and unconventionality.

By 1889 her own stories and poems had begun appearing in print, and by 1890 she had finished At Fault, one of her two surviving novels, which she paid to have published. She also soon began work on another novel (which she eventually destroyed), but her real talent during this early period lay in her splendid short stories, which attracted critical praise and an increasing readership. Most are set in Louisiana; most show the influence of Maupassant in their clarity, subtlety, and "slice-of-life" realism; and many use regional dialects to wonderful effect. In short, Chopin was establishing a growing reputation as one of the best "local color" authors in the country: She was giving her fellow Americans a glimpse into the life of a region many found colorful and fascinating.

Chopin, however, was never merely a dabbler; her stories are rarely superficial or merely local; they are sometimes funny, sometimes sad, and sometimes tragic; and they are almost always written with a sure touch and almost never with a heavy hand. Even the stories ostensibly composed for children or adolescents can be thoughtful and probing, and it was not long before Chopin had the respect of some of the country’s top editors. By 1894 her first collection of stories, Bayou Folk, was issued by a leading publisher and was well reviewed all over the country (Gilbert 1,048–1,050; Toth 223–229).

During the next few years Chopin continued to publish stories, poems, reviews, and essays. Supported by loyal friends in St. Louis, she was increasingly seen as a leading local figure. Inevitably she faced the disappointments any writer encounters (especially in finding a willing publisher for her second novel), but on the whole her career and reputation were steadily improving. In 1897 a second collection of stories, A Night in Acadie, appeared, and although it was less widely and enthusiastically reviewed than Bayou Folk had been, Chopin by this time possessed the self-confidence to realize that she was writing remarkably well.

"The Awakening", Controversy, and Critical Reception. In any case, during that same year, having destroyed her second novel, she was hard at work on a third, which she intended to call "A Solitary Soul." The title was oddly prophetic, for when the book was eventually issued in spring 1899 as The Awakening (an apt name, but one suggested by her publisher), Chopin suddenly found herself increasingly isolated and publicly attacked. The book was sometimes praised for its style, but far more frequent were condemnations of its themes, attitudes, tone, and central character.

The novel describes a young wife and mother, Edna Pontellier, who becomes disenchanted with her unfulfilling life and her unexciting marriage. She becomes infatuated with a handsome, sensitive young bachelor (Robert Lebrun), but, when he grows uncomfortable and departs for Mexico, she eventually drifts into a sensually exciting but romantically barren affair with a local ladies' man. When Robert unexpectedly returns, he and Edna declare their mutual love, but Robert soon regrets his boldness and departs again, leaving Edna feeling utterly alone. In the powerful last chapter, she walks into the Gulf of Mexico (near a resort where their relationship had begun) and never returns.

If Chopin had clearly condemned Edna’s behavior, or if she had made Edna’s death a kind of obvious punishment, her book might have been differently received. Remarkably, Chopin did nothing of the sort. Her attitude toward Edna was seen by many as neutral and objective, possibly even sympathetic, and although Chopin herself would later claim that Edna was responsible for her own behavior, the author never explicitly censured her protagonist. Edna was condemned by many reviewers as a self-indulgent adulteress, an irresponsible mother, and an ungrateful wife; more than one reviewer wondered why Chopin had even bothered to create such a character and such a book. The novel was frequently castigated as immoral, and despite Chopin’s best efforts to make light of the attacks, obviously she was hurt. (Little did her critics know that by this time she had already written an even more shocking story—"The Storm"—which is also about adultery and which she never tried to publish [Gilbert 1,048–1,050; Toth 317–335].)

Final Years, Death, and Posthumous Rediscovery. Chopin’s plans for a third collection of stories never came to fruition, and in her remaining years she published far less often than in the decade of her greatest productivity (1889–99). Some of her later works are excellent and adventurous, but some also seem slightly timid, and although neither she nor The Awakening was ever as ostracized or censored as later legend would sometimes suggest (Toth 367–369), it seems clear that in her final years she increasingly lost her voice and self-confidence.

She died suddenly in 1904, although her health had been declining for some time. Her passing was noted in various obituaries and articles, which tended to praise her as a learned, gracious, intelligent woman and as the author of superb short stories—stories that had not only captured the life of Louisiana but also gained recognition for St. Louis.

In the decades immediately after her death she was remembered (when remembered at all) for her tales, especially a few favorite "anthology pieces" (such as "Désirée’s Baby"), which were continuously reprinted. The Awakening, however, generally fell from sight, and even Father Daniel Rankin, the author of the first critical biography of Chopin (published in 1932), paid less attention to the novel than to the stories.

By the 1940s, however, the French scholar Cyrille Arnavon had not only translated the book into his native tongue but written an enthusiastic introduction. And when Arnavon taught the novel at Harvard, one of its most avid readers was a young Norwegian scholar named Per Seyersted, who in 1969 published a fine biography of Chopin and edited her collected works. By this time, of course, many American scholars had also begun to appreciate her writings, but it is one of the many ironies of Chopin’s career that her resurrection as a feminist icon depended so much on the efforts of a Frenchman and a Norwegian. Today Chopin’s status as a major American writer seems unalterably secure. Few authors of her time (male or female) wrote as well as she or had a surer command of their craft.