CHAPTER NINETEEN

Edna eventually realized how stupid she had been to break the glass vase and try to destroy her wedding ring. That kind of thing would not improve her situation. From now on, she had decided to simply live the way she wanted to live. Tuesdays were no longer visiting days for her, and if anyone came to see her, she did not go and see them in return. She no longer cared about the rules of society. They meant nothing to her.

Mr Pontellier could not believe his wife's behavior. After a while, seeing that she meant to do absolutely nothing for the home, his surprise quickly turned to anger. When he would say something to her about it, she would fight back.

"How can you just let the house go like this?" he said, "It's your responsibility to keep it in good condition and to look after the servants. Instead, all you do is paint!"

"But I want to paint."

"I'm not trying to prevent you from painting. But you can't just forget about your other responsibilities. You can't just forget about your husband and children, who need you to manage the house. Your friend, Madame Ratignolle, practices the piano without making the rest of the house suffer."

"I haven't stopped managing the house because of my painting. I have other reasons."

"Well, what are they?"

"Oh, just forget it. Go away. I don't feel like talking now."

On these occasions, Mr Pontellier began to think that his wife might be going crazy. Something was clearly wrong with her, but he could not say what. She was a changed woman, but he could not understand that she was changing into who she really was. She was no longer pretending to be a stranger to herself.

Edna continued to paint for many hours every day. She soon had everyone in her house sitting for her up in the attic, where she now spent most of her time. She painted her boys several times, until they no longer thought it was fun or interesting. Then she began to paint the servants and the nurse. As she painted, she would often sing the song that Robert used to sing while they walked on the beach.

It reminded her of the summer. She could see the beach, the islands, and the moon at night. And she could hear the water. Some days, she would feel very happy, without knowing what it was that made her happy. On those days she liked to wander around outside and dream. On those days she was able to paint quite well.

Other days, however, were unhappy ones. On those days, she could do very little. On those days, nothing seemed worth doing, not even living.

(end of section)