Kate Chopin (born Katherine O'Flaherty) (1850-1904) was an American author of short stories and novels, mostly of a Louisiana Creole background. She is now considered to have been a forerunner of feminist authors of the 20th century.
From 1889 to 1902, she wrote short stories for both children and adults which were published in such magazines as Atlantic Monthly, Vogue, The Century, and Harper's Youth's Companion.
Her major works were two short story collections, Bayou Folk (1894) and A Night in Acadie (1897).
Kate Chopin was an American author whose fiction grew out of the complex cultures and contradictions of Louisiana life, and she gradually became one of the most distinctive voices in nineteenth century literature. Raised in a household shaped by strong women of French and Irish heritage, she developed an early love for books and storytelling, and that immersion in language later shaped the quiet precision of her prose. After marrying and moving to New Orleans, then later to the small community of Cloutierville, she absorbed the rhythms, customs, and tensions of Creole and Cajun society, finding in its people the material that would feed both her sympathy and her sharp observational eye. When personal loss left her searching for direction, she began writing with the encouragement of a family friend, discovering not only a therapeutic outlet but a genuine vocation. Within a few years, her stories appeared in major magazines such as The Atlantic Monthly, Vogue, and The Century, where readers encountered her local-color sketches, her portrayals of women navigating desire and constraint, and her nuanced depictions of life in the American South. She published two story collections, Bayou Folk and A Night in Acadie, introducing characters whose emotional lives were depicted with unusual honesty. Her short fiction often explored subjects others avoided, including interracial relationships, female autonomy, and the quiet but powerful inner conflicts of everyday people. That same unflinching quality shaped The Awakening, the novel that would later become her most celebrated work. At the time of its publication, however, its frank treatment of a married woman’s emotional and sensual awakening unsettled many critics, who judged it harshly, yet Chopin continued to write stories that revealed her commitment to portraying women as fully human, with desires and ambitions that stretched beyond the confines of convention. She admired the psychological clarity of Guy de Maupassant, but she pushed beyond his influence to craft a voice that was unmistakably her own, direct yet lyrical, and deeply attuned to the inner lives of her characters. Though some of her contemporaries viewed her themes as daring or even improper, others recognized her narrative skill, and within a decade of her passing she was already being described as a writer of remarkable talent. Her rediscovery in the twentieth century led readers to appreciate how modern her concerns truly were: the struggle for selfhood, the tension between social expectations and private longing, and the resilience of women seeking lives that felt authentically theirs. Today, her stories and novels are widely read, admired for their clarity, emotional intelligence, and the boldness with which they illuminate the complexities of human experience.
For about five years now, the collected works of Kate Chopin have sat by my bed, and when I cannot sleep, or when I wake up in the middle of the night—from a nightmare, or when anxiety seems to choke off any possibility of rest—I open to a new story and read. This fall, I realized that the stories in A Night in Acadie were almost entirely penciled in, and decided to finish it off. But it resisted the ordinary kind of reading. Nonetheless, one midnight at a time, I have marched to the end of this collection.
Chopin’s work is luminous, fierce, and unsettling. The racial and gender dynamics can be troubling, the author’s position unclear, and the 19th-century Creole/Cadian Louisiana of these stories far enough from my reality that I often don’t feel I can judge or even understand these stories on their own terms. But Kate Chopin is a brilliant writer. As in Willa Cather—with whom I obscurely associate her—there is something strikingly modern in these psychologically acute stories—even, or perhaps especially, at their most regionalist and sentimental.
There are moments when the racism of this society shines through with enough horrifying force that, were these stories merely the sentimental baubles they pose as, it would more than sink the whole project. As it is, the undercurrent of violence is part if what makes Chopin's work compelling. The invocation of slavery in Odalie Misses Mass, for example, is utterly chilling, whether or not that was the intention. And it is not only around race that these become horror stories: see, for example, the glee Tonie takes in Claire’s death in At Chenière Caminada.
As with most writing that transcends the moral limitations of its place and time, the humanity of these stories comes across vividly, and Chopin’s work is a world unto itself.
Nineteen short stories about Louisianan life in the second half of the 19th century, all but three or four of which are little more than sketches really; but if you can sketch like this, why bother to fill in the blanks?
Reading this collection what really struck me was Kate Chopin's ability to write an impactful story without seemingly doing a lot. I think her trick was to let the characters and their actions do the work for her. She doesn't do any explaining on their behalf.
These are simple people with simple needs, though they don't often understand what those needs are, or come late to the understanding.
The second and by far the longest story here, 'Athénaïse', is a perfect case in point. The lead character is a young woman recently married to an older man who gets itchy feet. With the help of her brother, who dislikes his brother-in-law, she runs away. She doesn't really know why, then she returns. In both instances she trusts her hazy instincts.
In 'Regret' an independent spinster gets a taste of life she never had when she looks after her neighbour's children for a fortnight. Likewise, a child in need of nursing helps to melt the heart of the irascible Madame Carambeau towards the son she disowned in 'A Matter of Prejudice'.
Best of the lot is the knowledge that comes to Mrs. Baroda, the wife of the plantation owner in 'A Respectable Woman' whose final promise to be "very nice" to her husband's friend could mean more than one thing.
There are plenty of interesting male characters here too, good, bad and indifferent, as well as children of different ages and inclinations. Through all these people Chopin excels in presenting their brief moments of guilt, generosity, lust and regret.
Louisiana has always been a racially diverse corner of America. French, African, Native American; black, white, mulatto, quadroon, all different shades. They generally lived together in something like harmony for a Southern state in the immediate decades after the abolition of slavery.
That's not to say that there was anything approaching equality; the hierarchy of the plantation system still dominated. Check out this snippet from 'Mamouche' when a white doctor's black servant is asked to serve a young visitor some food:
'Marshall hesitated, and challenged the child with a speculating look. "Is you w'ite o' is you black?" he asked. "Dat w'at I wants ter know 'fo I 'kiar victuals to yo in de settin'-room." "I'm w'ite, me," the boy responded, promptly.'
Relations between the races can be tolerant, even tender as it is in some of these stories, but the culture of colour supremacy dominates all the social conventions.
Finally the third story, 'After the Winter', in which a curmudgeonly old loner receives a final, divine vision of a life that might of been, is worth a special mention too.
4* The Awakening and Selected Stories 3* The Locket 3* The Story of an Hour 3* A Pair of Silk Stockings and Other Stories 2* A Morning Walk 3* A Night in Acadie TR Desiree's Baby
Contents I. A Night in Acadie 1 II. Athénaïse 39 III. After the Winter 107 IV. Polydore 127 V. Regret 145 VI. A Matter of Prejudice 155 VII. Caline 173 VIII. A Dresden Lady in Dixie 181 IX. Nég Créol 199 X. The Lilies 215 XI. Azélie 229 XII. Mamouche 251 XIII. A Sentimental Soul 271 XIV. Dead Men’s Shoes 295 XV. At Chenière Caminada 315 XVI. Odalie Misses Mass 341 XVII. Cavanelle 355 XVIII. Tante Cat’rinette 369 XIX. A Respectable Woman 389 XX. Ripe Figs 399 XXI. Ozème’s Holiday 403
A Night in Acadie (1897) are 21 more short stories from Kate Chopin, again treating with life in rural 19th century Louisiana. They can be read as a companion piece to ‘Bayou Folk’, though they’re probably best read separately to break it up a little. On the whole, these stories are stronger, and you can see her progression as an author. As in her other work, dialog is written out as it sounded, which can be a little tricky to understand at times, but it’s not done out of meanness for her poor characters, who are in general treated with dignity and respect. My favorite stories:
‘A Night in Acadie’ – the first story is the title story to the collection and one of its longest, it has a couple of young people meeting each other at a ball, where tensions rise because other hearts are involved.
‘Athenaise’ – another relatively long story about a woman who is unhappy in her marriage; it has a different outcome than her masterpiece ‘The Awakening’ (1899) but presages it. I like how fleshed out it was, and the maturity of the writing. It also clearly indicates some of the constraints women were under at the time; as Chopin puts it, “The day had not come when a young woman might ask the court’s permission to return to her mamma on the sweeping ground of a constitutional disinclination for marriage.”
‘Regret’ – about a childless unmarried woman who only realizes her love for kids after she’s had to care for five rambunctious children for a couple of weeks.
‘A Sentimental Soul’ – about a woman shopkeeper who falls in love for a married man who comes in for a daily paper, confesses her sin to a priest and thereafter does her best to stay away from him, and then after he’s dead, tends to his grave and reveres a picture of him; sentimentality winning out over morality.
‘Odalie Misses Mass’ – about a young girl who misses church to care for a doddering old woman who mistakes her for someone from her younger years.
Chopin occasionally says disparaging to Indians or Blacks that is jarring to our ears 100+ years later, but in general it’s clear she embraces a multicultural, multiethnic world, and in these stories has given us a little window into it.