"The Necklace"

I first read "The Necklace" as "La Parure" in my AP French class, so it was kind of weird to read it in English. It was a lot easier to read it in English, of course, but I wondered how much was lost in translation, how it always is when you don't read something in the language in which it was written.

Of course, the most obvious thing about this story is the ridiculous irony. Mme Loisel attempts to live beyond her means. She reaches too high to pretend to be something she is not. Her pride and vanity lead to her ruin. Her husband wishes to please her, but she treats him with nothing but contempt. He gives her what she wants, even at sacrifice to himself, yet she shows no gratitude toward him, no thanks, only demands for more. Perhaps this is why she is punished. She believes herself above her class, like she was born to be in a rank higher than hers. This is what happened to Anna Anderson--the woman who claimed she was the lost Grand Duchess Anastasia. Anna Anderson was actually a Polish peasant who always believed herself meant to be royalty. Anna Anderson's memory is now in infamy for an impostor who claimed to be a lost princess. History does not look kindly upon her.

Mme Loisel becomes the woman she was always supposed to be--strong, rough, sturdy, ruined hands. She still dreams of the old days, but she has become accustomed to a life of hard work and labor. Yet had she not tried so hard to pretend to be something she was not, she would still have a moderately comfortable life. Yes, she would still be dissatisfied, but she would not suffer. Maybe she is happier accepting her lot and working hard toward a goal because she must, rather than moping around and lamenting the fact that she did not have a dowry when it was time for her to marry.

The bitter irony is too much to bear. Mme Loisel could have told Mme Forestier the truth, and Mme Loisel would never have had to pay back such a ridiculous sum. Mme Forestier ends up the richer in all aspects--she has the diamond necklace replacing her fake one, she still looks young and beautiful, and she is still above Mme Loisel in social stratification. It's a sacrifice Mathilde makes--one night of joy and beauty for a lifetime of servitude and poverty. Ten years of hard work is the price she pays for her one night of high society and class, living the life she thinks she was supposed to have. But she is punished for her vanity.

It's a short, simple story, but it makes you wonder what Maupassant's message was. Don't try to reach beyond your means? Don't be proud? Appreciate what you have? Mathilde suffers much more in the beginning of the story than the end, even if she does have a housemaid. But once she gets down to work, maybe she is happier. Accept things for what they are and be happy about it? Ah well, I'll enjoy the irony in it like in "The Story of an Hour."

"Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?"

I'd say my biggest reaction was simply "disturbed." I guess "upsetting" works as well. The ending is just so ambiguous. At least in "A Good Man Is Hard To Find" you knew what happened in the end--they all died. You don't get much psychological insight into the Arnold Friend character, and one can only guess what became of Connie.

The mysterious older man luring away the young girl is an archetype in literature. The dark older man enshrouded by enigma never fails to captivate. Plus young impressionable girls like the idea of being wanted, of being attractive. Connie doesn't fail to mention her youth and beauty and how her mother is jealous of her. She looks in mirrors and other people's eyes to see her reflections, which reminds me of one of the characters in Jean-Paul Sartre's, and that character definitely got hers (an eternity in the most messed up love triangle in hell sure would do it). It definitely had a Go Ask Alice feel to it when Connie first locks eyes with Arnold Friend. His name was interesting to me because his last name is "Friend," when in truth he is deceitful, conniving, and well, just plain creepy.

I enjoyed (well enjoyed isn't really right, but I was intrigued) the slow progression of the dialogue between Connie and Arnold when they are at her door. Her panic mounts gradually as his anger and force builds. His manipulation of her in discussing her family and his terrifying gathering of information combined with his age is overpowering. He messes with her mind, saying what her family is doing, what they're wearing, what they will and won't do. His talk of promises about not coming inside are ridiculous, because Connie cannot keep him at bay indefinitely. First of all, he is a terrifyingly older age, and secondly, no one can talk and distract someone forever.

Connie finds that her vanity and foolishness can attract the wrong sort of people, and playing with fire gets you burned.

Arnold friend is a confusing character. On the one hand he is controlled, cool for the first part of their interaction, meticulously closing in on her like a wolf on its prey. Yet he speaks in an affected, lilting way, which is mentioned several times in the story. He also quotes a series of song lyrics when he speaks. Although I did not catch all the musical allusions, I think his speech is littered with insertions of song lyrics.

He is so forward about the subject of raping Connie. He says, "'Yes I'm your lover. you don't what that is but you will...But look: it's real nice and you couldn't ask for nobody better than me, or more polite. I always keep my word. I'll tell you how it is, I'm always nice at first, the first time. I'll hold you so tight you won't think you have to try to get away or pretend anything...And I'll come inside you where it's all secret and you'll give in to me and you'll love me--'" For one thing, Arnold Friend could never be a kind and gentle lover. Although Connie does not fit the criteria for Arnold to be pedophilic, he might be hebephilic. It's equally disgusting and contemptible, but hebephilia has a different set of diagnostic criteria, and the psychological characteristics between pedophiles and hebephiles differ. Arnold is attracted to Connie, who is fifteen, not an eight-year-old child. Hebephilia is similar to ephebophilia.

So it's sexually disturbing, and although the story is slightly coming of age, how much can you come of age if you get murdered? Connie does feel like she has never seen her room before, that she doesn't recognize anything in her house or in her life. "He ran a fingernail down the screen and the noise did not make Connie shiver, as it would have the day before." She no longer feels that her heart belongs to her, and she will never see her family again. Arnold tells her that her father's house is just a cardboard box he can knock over whenever he wants.

It's coming of age, but Connie's experience of adulthood is probably short lived.