5. ‘I am inclined to think that love springs from animal instinct, and therefore is, in a measure, divine’ (Kate Chopin).

Before discussing Kate Chopin’s statement with reference to four texts studied on the module, I intend to employ Jacques Derrida’s deconstructive methodology with a view to teasing out the implications of this quotation. The decision to elicit the possible connotations of Chopin’s remark has been prompted by the fact that one of the texts studied on the module, Toni Morrison’s Sula, makes use of Derrida’s concepts in order “to question the hierarchy of binaries and apply this to race relations in the United States.”¹ Indeed, Mae Henderson suggests that aspects of Sula can be interpreted as a “deconstructive rereading of the black male text”².[^]

The motivation behind this deconstruction of Kate Chopin’s statement is a desire to highlight the ‘surplus of meaning’ that is inherent in the quote. Derrida proposes that because “all words are based on other words (etymologically speaking)… there is always an excess of signification.”³ An examination of three key terms in the quote will demonstrate the fact that Chopin’s remark has no single, fixed denotation; rather, it signifies a plethora of possible meanings. These three key terms are ‘love’, ‘animal’, and ‘divine’. Owing to the fact that an abundance of different sentence meanings are generated when the diverse senses of these three words are connected to one another in the ways logically possible, I will assign a symbol to each definition in order to save unnecessary repetition of definitions later in the body of this essay.[^]

‘Love’ is used as a noun in this statement, and carries within it a number of connotations. ‘Love’ can represent happy inter-personal relationships, in the sense of “a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend”⁴ (Lⁱ) or “affectionate concern for the well-being of others”⁵ (Lⁱⁱ). Furthermore, ‘love’ can have emotive sexual connotations, “sexual passion or desire”⁶ (Lⁱⁱⁱ), or can refer to the act of procreation itself, “sexual intercourse; copulation”⁷ (L^iv). ‘Love’ can even be interpreted in a religious sense, as “the benevolent affection of God for His creatures, or the reverent affection due from them to God”⁸ (L^v).[^]

The term ‘animal’ refers to both humans, “pertaining to the physical, sensual, or carnal nature of humans, rather than their spiritual or intellectual nature”⁹, and non-humans, “any such living thing other than a human being…of, pertaining to, or derived from animals: animal instincts”¹⁰. One such animal instinct can be described as the drive to ‘nurture’ one’s progeny, “to bring up; train; educate.”¹¹ Again, I will employ different designations in order to signify the distinction between the carnal (A) and nurturing (α) aspects of ‘love’ that human beings perform.[^]

‘Divine’ can be associated with “pertaining to a God, esp. the Supreme Being”¹² (Dⁱ), or, in a similar yet subtly different sense, “proceeding from God or a god”¹³ (Dⁱⁱ). In an informal sense, ‘divine’ means “extremely good; unusually lovely”¹⁴ (Dⁱⁱⁱ).[^]

In order to render the potential sentence meanings – generated through the combination of different senses of the words ‘love’, ‘animal’, and ‘divine’ – interesting from a feminist perspective, I will interpret Dⁱ and Dⁱⁱ as referring to the privileged, god-like status of ‘Man’ in society. Consequently, the religious sense of ‘love’ (L^v) refers to ‘the benevolent affection of Man for women, or the reverent affection due from women to Man’. This interpretation of the word ‘divine’ has its roots in the respective philosophies of Jean-Jacques Rousseau and Friedrich Nietzsche.[^]

Rousseau arguably prioritizes ‘nature’ over religion as the ultimate arbiter of truth, as his Confessions is an attempt “to show my fellow-men a man in all the truth of nature; and this man is to be myself.”¹⁵ This strict observance of the ‘truth of nature’ is juxtaposed with the fact that Rousseau only adopts a religion when it benefits his own journey along the road of life. His decision to convert to Catholicism in 1728, on the advice of a fellow resident at Mme de Warens’ establishment, to “receive temporal and spiritual support until such time as… I would find… some suitable situation”¹⁶, before embracing Calvinism in 1754 so that he may reclaim “my rights as a [Genevan] citizen”¹⁷, highlights the fact that Rousseau dons a religious cloak in order to serve his own needs. Thus, it can be argued that Rousseau places ‘Man’ above any religious deity; Rousseau can be seen as a prophet, preaching his ‘natural’ doctrine to generations to come through the medium of writing.[^]

Nietzsche’s philosophy as set out in Beyond Good and Evil is couched in similarly masculine language, and in the Introduction to the 1997 edition of this work Helen Zimmern summarizes his philosophy as a reaction against “what he saw as the slide of Western culture into a morass of conformity, mediocrity, and bureaucratic specialization that stifled man‘s higher creative impulses.”¹⁸ Crucially, the term Nietzsche coins to refer to an individual who refuses to join the sheep-like flock of Christians in their “timorous retreat from life by postponing happiness and redemption to the next world”¹⁹ translates as the ‘overman’; Nietzsche’s subordinate treatment of women is exemplified by such aphorisms as, “Woman learns how to hate in proportion as she – forgets how to charm.”²⁰[^]

In a further stylistic similarity to Sula, a text in which Morrison – following four pages written from a present-day perspective, after the fictional events in the novel have taken place – introduces each chapter with a date that concisely contextualizes the ensuing narration, this essay will be broken up through the use of sub-headings which succinctly establish the nature of the subsequent discussion. This style might go against the accepted academic ‘grain’, but in this way it serves to extend the post-structuralist ‘feel’ to the essay – as well as providing an apposite platform for the elucidation of the abbreviated sentence formulae outlined earlier. Furthermore, it mirrors the writing style of Nietzsche himself, “eschewing conventional exposition in favour of loosely strung sections of short essays… If the approach is more kaleidoscopic than systematic, it is often the more arresting and provocative for that”²¹.[^]

Kate Chopin’s statement[s]²² (LⁱαDⁱⁱ, LⁱⁱADⁱⁱ, and L^ivαDⁱⁱ)²³ in relation to Virginia Woolf’s The Voyage Out

The Voyage Out was first published in 1915 and is a realist text with underlying modernist currents. The fictional events take place in 1909, ten years after the publication of Kate Chopin’s The Awakening. This temporal proximity of the two texts is noteworthy because The Voyage Out can be read as a novel of ‘awakenings’ for the central protagonist, twenty-four-year-old Rachel Vinrace, through whom the narration is primarily focalized. These ‘awakenings’ are aptly summarized by Kate Chopin’s deconstructed statements cited above.[^]

LⁱαDⁱⁱ – Rachel’s mother dies when Rachel is “eleven”²⁴, and we learn that her father, Willoughby, delegates the responsibility of bringing up, training, and educating Rachel to his “two sisters”²⁵. Rachel’s aunts take great care in bringing her up, firstly protecting her “health”²⁶ and then, as she grows older, shielding her mind from the notion of “morals”²⁷. The result of Rachel’s aunts’ ‘instruction’ is that Rachel is left in a state of intellectual and worldly underdevelopment, “Rachel reached that stage in thinking, if thinking it can be called, when the eyes are intent upon a ball or a knob and the lips cease to move.”²⁸[^]

When Willoughby later takes over the nurturing duties, he continues the “censorship which was exercised first by her aunts”²⁹. Thus, the deconstructed formulation of Chopin’s statement that implies that ‘a Man’s fulfilment of His paternal responsibilities fosters a feeling of warm personal attachment for His child’ can be seen as questionable in the light of the relationship between Willoughby and Rachel; Rachel’s ‘awakening’ to the realities of life is stunted because her Father does not exercise due care and attention in the rearing of His daughter.[^]

Conversely, Helen Ambrose experiences a strong personal affection for Rachel when she decides to liberate Willoughby’s daughter from the restrictive clutches of the ineffectual Father. Helen suspects Willoughby of “nameless atrocities with regard to his daughter”³⁰, and determines to convince Willoughby that he should “consent to leave his daughter with them when they landed”³¹. Helen’s plan is successful and Rachel, under Helen’s watchful, nurturing eye, develops a sense of self that she can call her own for the first time. Thus, the ‘divine’ acquisition of strong personal affection as a result of the nurturing instinct can be seen as coming from a woman- Helen- rather than Willoughby, a Man.[^]

LⁱⁱADⁱⁱ – Rachel’s naivety is highlighted by the ambivalence she experiences following her intimate encounter with Richard Dalloway. After Rachel and Richard have become acquainted through a conversation about politics, they collide into each other in stormy weather “up on deck”³² and Richard follows her into her room in order to continue their earlier discussion. Shortly thereafter, as they converse sheltered from the tempestuous weather:

The ship lurched. Rachel fell slightly forward. Richard took her in his arms and kissed her. Holding her tight, he kissed her passionately, so that she felt the hardness of his body and the roughness of his cheek printed upon hers.³³[^]

When Rachel later informs Helen of this episode it is clear that she has mixed feelings about the incident, as she says that on the one hand “I liked him”³⁴, yet on the other hand “I became terrified”³⁵. Furthermore, Rachel is unaware of the significance of the kiss, declaring that “I shall think about it all day and all night until I find out exactly what it does mean”³⁶. It falls to Helen to explain that such expressions of desire are “the most natural thing in the world. Men will want to kiss you, just as they’ll want to marry you.”³⁷[^]

Therefore, the deconstructed formulation of Chopin’s statement that implies that ‘Man awakens the carnal nature of humans, initiating sexual passion in others’, can be seen to be upheld in this encounter between Richard and Rachel. The innocent Rachel achieves a sexual ‘awakening’ as a result of Richard’s passionate behaviour.[^]

L^ivαDⁱⁱ – Rachel’s sense of self develops as a result of having a room of her own at the villa in which Helen takes up residence, “a room in which she could play, read, think, defy the world, a fortress as well as a sanctuary.”³⁸ As she becomes more comfortable with her ‘self’ and her passionate desires, she attracts the romantic attentions of Terence Hewet and the pair commence an engagement.[^]

However, despite the fact that Terence has shown an active interest in Rachel’s personal development and envisions a nurturing future with her – “As he sat in the room with her, he wished very often to be back again in the thick of life, doing things with Rachel”³⁹ – Rachel does not unequivocally return his benevolent affection. Indeed, Rachel questions whether marriage is really what she wants, “It seemed to her now that what he was saying was perfectly true, and that she wanted many more things than the love of one human being”⁴⁰.

Rachel worries that her burgeoning sense of self will be restricted by her integration into the patriarchal institution of marriage, as she will have to comply with Terence’s desires once they return to London, walking the path dictated by her husband while listening to “nightingales singing in the lanes, into which they could steal when the room grew hot”⁴¹.[^]

The penultimate chapter of The Voyage Out describes the death of Rachel, a demise that prevents a marriage taking place between Terence and herself: “She died this morning, very early, about three o’clock”⁴². The exact cause of Rachel’s illness is not explicitly stated in the novel; it is left open to interpretation. It could be argued that Rachel – like Edna Pontellier in Chopin’s The Awakening – has to die in order to preserve her sense of self – a sense of identity that cannot continue to exist in patriarchal society. If Rachel were to continue living and marry Terence, her life itself would “not respect [her self-determined] borders, positions, rules”⁴³; Rachel has to ‘abject’ her own life in order to safeguard her sense of self.[^]

Thus, the deconstructed formulation of Chopin’s statement implying that ‘Man experiences benevolent affections for women as a result of His nurturing nature’ is apposite in the consideration of the relationship between Terence and Rachel. Terence is initially interested in nurturing Rachel, supplying her with ‘improving’ books in order to increase her worldly knowledge, and as a result of this instinct he experiences benevolent affections for her. Having acquired these feelings for Rachel, Terence desires to marry her.

Conversely, Rachel is unable to express ‘the reverent affection due from women to Man’ in her society, as she desires to retain her individuality in the face of an imminent integration into the patriarchal establishment of marriage.[^]

Kate Chopin’s statement[s] (LⁱⁱⁱADⁱ)⁴⁴ in relation to Katherine Mansfield’s ‘Bliss’

‘Bliss’ is the fictional story of Bertha Young’s preparations for, and subsequent behaviour at, a house party organized by herself and husband Harry. ‘Bliss’ is focalized through the thirty-year-old Bertha Young, the central protagonist who is portrayed as a childish individual, prone to moments “when she wanted to run instead of walk…or to stand still and laugh at – nothing – at nothing, simply.”⁴⁵[^]

Prior to the party’s commencement, the reader learns that one of the expected guests is Pearl Fulton, a woman whom Bertha “had met at the club”⁴⁶ and fallen in love with, “as she always did fall in love with beautiful women who had something strange about them.”⁴⁷ The strange, mysterious aspect to Pearl is the fact that, although honest, she is not completely ‘open’ with Bertha, “Up to a certain point Miss Fulton was rarely, wonderfully frank, but the certain point was there, and beyond that she would not go.”⁴⁸[^]

As Bertha waits for her guests to arrive, she looks out of the drawing-room windows and admires the view it affords of the garden, “there was a tall, slender pear tree in fullest, richest bloom; it stood perfect, as though becalmed against the jade-green sky.”⁴⁹ Despite the fact that Bertha then goes upstairs in order to dress in a manner representing the pear tree, “a white dress, a string of jade beads, green shoes and stockings”⁵⁰, we learn from the narration focalized through Bertha that “it wasn’t ‘intentional’.”⁵¹[^]

Pearl Fulton arrives a little later than the other guests, “all in silver, with a silver fillet binding her pale blond hair”⁵². Shortly thereafter, Bertha believes that she understands Pearl’s mood exactly and that an unspoken, intimate exchange has taken place between them. Bertha hopes that Pearl “will give a sign”⁵³, in order to confirm her belief in this telepathic link, a hope which is fulfilled when Pearl asks, “Have you a garden?”⁵⁴ In response to this question, Bertha opens the drawing-room windows, and

the two women stood side by side looking at the slender, flowering tree. Although it was so still it seemed, like the flame of a candle, to stretch up, to point, to quiver in the bright air, to grow taller and taller as they gazed – almost to touch the rim of the round silver moon.⁵⁵[^]

After the two women share this timeless moment, Bertha desires her husband for “the first time in her life”⁵⁶, before seeing Harry and Pearl in an intimate embrace as Pearl prepares to leave, “His lips said: ‘I adore you,’ and Miss Fulton laid her moonbeam fingers on his cheeks and smiled her sleepy smile.”⁵⁷ With all the party guests having left, Bertha expects something momentous to occur as she hurries over to the drawing-room windows. However, nothing appears to have changed, and nothing seems likely to change, as she notes that “the pear tree was as lovely as ever and as full of flower and as still.”⁵⁸[^]

LⁱⁱⁱADⁱ – If one chooses to interpret the garden-viewing scene in sexually symbolic terms, it can be argued that Bertha and Pearl possess transgressive carnal passion for one another. The clothing worn by the two women means that Bertha and Pearl can be seen to symbolically represent the pear tree and the moon respectively. They stand silently together, watching the pear tree trying to ‘touch’ the moon, a scene that epitomizes their unspoken desires. Owing to the fact that patriarchal society does not approve of lesbian relationships, both Bertha and Pearl proceed to transpose their ‘morality-violating’ passion onto Harry.[^]

To summarize the above treatment of the text in Adrienne Rich’s terminology, ‘Bliss’ can be read as a ‘lesbian continuum’ story. Bertha is unable to pinpoint the reason behind her feeling of overwhelming ‘bliss’, and neither Pearl nor Bertha can express their true desire, because “lesbian existence comprises both the breaking of a taboo and the rejection of a compulsory way of life.”⁵⁹[^]

Thus, the deconstructed formulation of Chopin’s statement that implies that ‘the carnal nature of woman leads naturally to sexual intercourse with Man’ can be seen as questionable in the light of Bertha and Pearl’s true, repressed desires.[^]

Kate Chopin’s statement[s] (L^ivαDⁱⁱ)⁶⁰ in relation to Angela Carter’s The Magic Toyshop

Angela Carter’s The Magic Toyshop can be read as a literary critique of patriarchal society. Like The Voyage Out, Carter’s novel charts the development of a central female protagonist, Melanie, and examines the difficulties that befall a young lady in her search for a stable sense of self.[^]

L^ivαDⁱⁱ – Upon the death of her parents, the responsibility for Melanie’s upbringing and welfare falls to her Uncle Philip Flower. Unfortunately for Melanie, Uncle Philip likes silent women and attempts to deny Melanie a voice and render her automaton-like rather than autonomous. Philip’s determination to negatively influence Melanie’s life shifts from a desire to block her attempts at acquiring her own identity, to a diabolical craving to do her permanent psychological damage. He tries to induce Finn to rape Melanie, “He wanted me to do you and he set the scene”⁶¹, and nearly succeeds, but Finn stops himself at the last moment.[^]

This attempt on the part of Philip to pull the strings of others’ lives to disastrous effect proves to be the final straw for Finn. Shortly thereafter, Finn sets the wheels of Philip’s downfall in motion, culminating in the house fire from which only Finn and Melanie escape – “At night, in the garden, they faced each other in a wild surmise.”⁶²[^]

The ending of The Magic Toyshop involves the defeat of God by the Devil, insofar as Philip is Man, a representative of the god-like patriarchal order of society, and Finn artistically portrays himself as the Devil prior to his overthrowing of Uncle Philip’s laws,

Then she saw the horrible picture. It was a hell of leaping flames through which darted black figures. Uncle Philip was laid out on a charcoal grill like a barbecued pork chop. […] His mouth was a black, screaming hole from which issued a banner with the words: ‘Forgive me!’ The devil had Finn’s former, grinning face.⁶³

Although not explicitly stated in the text, Finn’s picture answers Melanie’s question as to why his “grace was gone”⁶⁴ following his literal “fall”⁶⁵ from the puppeteer’s platform onto the stage during the “‘GRAND PERFORMANCE – FLOWER’S PUPPET MICROCOSM'”⁶⁶. Finn’s literal ‘fall’ comes about because he metaphorically ‘falls’ from Philip’s ‘grace’; Finn, a ‘fallen angel’, becomes the Devil. Ironically, Finn’s ‘devilish’ endeavours help to overthrow the tyrannical Philip, a patriarchal ‘god’.[^]

Thus, the deconstructed formulation of Chopin’s quote to the effect that ‘Man derives affectionate concern for the well-being of others from the nurturing instinct he naturally possesses’ can be seen as questionable in the light of Uncle Philip’s mistreatment of Melanie.[^]

Kate Chopin’s statement[s] (LⁱαDⁱⁱⁱ)⁶⁷ in relation to Toni Morrison’s Sula

Having earlier asserted that Morrison utilizes the theoretical ideas of Jacques Derrida “to question the hierarchy of binaries and apply this to race relations in the United States”⁶⁸, I will now provide evidence for this statement by highlighting the manner in which she abolishes the black/white ‘opposition’.[^]

Before she becomes acquainted with Ajax, Sula copulates with men indiscriminately, going “to bed with men as frequently as she could.”⁶⁹ Only when she has consummated her relationship with Ajax does she discover “possession or at least the desire for it”⁷⁰. It appears that Sula would have settled down with Ajax, had he not deserted her. It is during the focalization through Sula’s thought processes as she enjoys intercourse with Ajax for the first time that Morrison deconstructs the black/white ‘opposition’[^]:

If I take a chamois and rub real hard on the bone […] some of the black will disappear. It will flake away into the chamois and underneath there will be gold leaf. […] And if I take a nail file or even Eva’s old paring knife – that will do – and scrape away at the gold, it will fall away and there will be alabaster. […] Then I can take a chisel and small tap hammer and tap away at the alabaster. […] through the breaks I will see the loam, fertile, free of pebbles and twigs.⁷¹

It can be interpreted from this passage that the same potential, the same fertile soil, forms the basis of all humans, regardless of skin colour; we are all created, after all, from the fertilization of a female egg by a male sperm cell.[^]

LⁱαDⁱⁱⁱ – For two generations of Peace women, the performance of the nurturing instinct is borne out of necessity rather than choice, resulting in a lack of deep affection for their respective offspring. Hannah Peace, Sula’s mother and Eva’s oldest daughter, asks Eva, “Mamma, did you ever love us?”⁷² Eva answers that she did, insofar as she fed her children and protected them. Unsatisfied with this response, Hannah wonders whether, “Did you ever, you know, play with us?”⁷³ Eva replies that she never had the time to play with her children, but “I stayed alive for you can’t you get that through your thick head or what is that between your ears, heifer?”⁷⁴ Thus informed that she was brought up out of necessity rather than as a result of deep affection, Hannah sets fire to herself in the yard and dies “on the way to the hospital.”⁷⁵[^]

Sula watches Hannah burn, making no attempt to help her mother, and Eva is convinced that Sula merely looked on “not because she was paralysed, but because she was interested.”⁷⁶ Eva is arguably correct in assuming that Sula was able to watch in a calm, detached fashion, since Sula had earlier overheard Hannah say that she did not feel a strong emotional connection to her daughter, “You love her, like I love Sula. I just don’t like her. That’s the difference.”⁷⁷[^]

Thus, the deconstructed formulation of Chopin’s statement to the effect that ‘an unusually lovely feeling of deep affection, as for a child, is borne from the nurturing instinct’ can be seen as questionable in the light of Eva and Hannah’s lack of emotional connection to their progeny.[^]

Conclusion (“n […] (logic) a proposition deduced from premises.”⁷⁸)

Rather than reiterate the various ways in which Kate Chopin’s statement relates to Virginia Woolf’s The Voyage Out, Katherine Mansfield’s ‘Bliss’, Angela Carter’s The Magic Toyshop, and Toni Morrison’s Sula, I intend to make a post-structuralist point in the penultimate paragraph of this essay.

Having performed a deconstruction of Kate Chopin’s quotation and used this as the springboard for the subsequent consideration of four texts, it is necessary to highlight the fragile status of any ‘conclusions’ arrived at in the various sections of this essay, since “a further deconstruction could be performed on the new text, given language’s slippage and excess of meaning.”⁷⁹

This essay is now able to “come to an end”⁸⁰, to ‘conclude’.[^]

About Chris Larham [Site Administrator]

Thirty-nine-year-old father of three wonderful children [William, Seth, and Alyssa]. Works as an Assistant Technical Officer in the Sterile Services Department of Treliske Hospital, Cornwall. Enjoys jogging, web design, learning programming languages, and supporting Arsenal FC. Obtained a BA degree in English from the University of Bolton in 2008, and has continued to gain qualifications in a diverse range of subjects thereafter.