Desiree's Baby by Kate Choplin

Desiree's Baby

As the day was pleasant, Madame Valmonde drove over to L'Abri to see Desiree and the baby. It made her laugh to think of Desiree with a baby. Why, it seemed but yesterday that Desiree was little more than a baby herself; when Monsieur in riding through the gateway of Valmonde had found her lying asleep in the shadow of the big stone pillar. The little one awoke in his arms and began to cry for "Dada." That was as much as she could do or say. Some people thought she might have strayed there of her own accord, for she was of the toddling age. The prevailing belief was that she had been purposely left by a party of Texans, whose canvas-covered wagon, late in the day, had crossed the ferry that Coton Mais kept, just below the plantation. In time Madame Valmonde abandoned every speculation but the one that Desiree had been sent to her by a beneficent Providence to be the child of her affection, seeing that she was without child of the flesh. For the girl grew to be beautiful and gentle, affectionate and sincere - the idol of Valmonde. It was no wonder, when she stood one day against the stone pillar in whose shadow she had lain asleep, eighteen years before, that Armand Aubigny riding by and seeing her there, had fallen in love with her. That was the way all the Aubignys fell in love, as if struck by a pistol shot. The wonder was that he had not loved her before; for he had known her since his father brought him home from Paris, a boy of eight, after his mother died there. The passion that awoke in him that day, when he saw her at the gate, swept along like an avalanche, or like a prairie fire, or like anything that drives headlong over all obstacles. Monsieur Valmonde grew practical and wanted things well considered: that is, the girl's obscure origin. Armand looked into her eyes and did not care. He was reminded that she was nameless. What did it matter about a name when he could give her one of the oldest and proudest in Louisiana? He ordered the corbeille from Paris, and contained himself with what patience he could until it arrived; then they were married.

< 2 >

Madame Valmonde had not seen Desiree and the baby for four weeks. When she reached L'Abri she shuddered at the first sight of it, as she always did. It was a sad looking place, which for many years had not known the gentle presence of a mistress, old Monsieur Aubigny having married and buried his wife in France, and she having loved her own land too well ever to leave it. The roof came down steep and black like a cowl, reaching out beyond the wide galleries that encircled the yellow stuccoed house. Big, solemn oaks grew close to it, and their thick-leaved, far-reaching branches shadowed it like a pall. Young Aubigny's rule was a strict one, too, and under it his negroes had forgotten how to be gay, as they had been during the old master's easy-going and indulgent lifetime. The young mother was recovering slowly, and lay full length, in her soft white muslins and laces, upon a couch. The baby was beside her, upon her arm, where he had fallen asleep, at her breast. The yellow nurse woman sat beside a window fanning herself. Madame Valmonde bent her portly figure over Desiree and kissed her, holding her an instant tenderly in her arms. Then she turned to the child. "This is not the baby!" she exclaimed, in startled tones. French was the language spoken at Valmonde in those days. "I knew you would be astonished," laughed Desiree, "at the way he has grown. The little cochon de lait! Look at his legs, mamma, and his hands and fingernails - real finger-nails. Zandrine had to cut them this morning. Isn't it true, Zandrine?" The woman bowed her turbaned head majestically, "Mais si, Madame." "And the way he cries," went on Desiree, "is deafening. Armand heard him the other day as far away as La Blanche's cabin." Madame Valmonde had never removed her eyes from the child. She lifted it and walked with it over to the window that was lightest. She scanned the baby narrowly, then looked as searchingly at Zandrine, whose face was turned to gaze across the fields. "Yes, the child has grown, has changed," said Madame Valmonde, slowly, as she replaced it beside its mother. "What does Armand say?" Desiree's face became suffused with a glow that was happiness itself.

< 3 > "

Oh, Armand is the proudest father in the parish, I believe, chiefly because it is a boy, to bear his name; though he says not - that he would have loved a girl as well. But I know it isn't true. I know he says that to please me. And mamma," she added, drawing Madame Valmonde's head down to her, and speaking in a whisper, "he hasn't punished one of them - not one of them - since baby is born. Even Negrillon, who pretended to have burnt his leg that he might rest from work - he only laughed, and said Negrillon was a great scamp. Oh, mamma, I'm so happy; it frightens me." What Desiree said was true. Marriage, and later the birth of his son had softened Armand Aubigny's imperious and exacting nature greatly. This was what made the gentle Desiree so happy, for she loved him desperately. When he frowned she trembled, but loved him. When he smiled, she asked no greater blessing of God. But Armand's dark, handsome face had not often been disfigured by frowns since the day he fell in love with her. When the baby was about three months old, Desiree awoke one day to the conviction that there was something in the air menacing her peace. It was at first too subtle to grasp. It had only been a disquieting suggestion; an air of mystery among the blacks; unexpected visits from far-off neighbors who could hardly account for their coming. Then a strange, an awful change in her husband's manner, which she dared not ask him to explain. When he spoke to her, it was with averted eyes, from which the old love-light seemed to have gone out. He absented himself from home; and when there, avoided her presence and that of her child, without excuse. And the very spirit of Satan seemed suddenly to take hold of him in his dealings with the slaves. Desiree was miserable enough to die. She sat in her room, one hot afternoon, in her peignoir, listlessly drawing through her fingers the strands of her long, silky brown hair that hung about her shoulders. The baby, half naked, lay asleep upon her own great mahogany bed, that was like a sumptuous throne, with its satin-lined half-canopy. One of La Blanche's little quadroon boys - half naked too - stood fanning the child slowly with a fan of peacock feathers. Desiree's eyes had been fixed absently and sadly upon the baby, while she was striving to penetrate the threatening mist that she felt closing about her. She looked from her child to the boy who stood beside him, and back again; over and over. "Ah!" It was a cry that she could not help; which she was not conscious of having uttered. The blood turned like ice in her veins, and a clammy moisture gathered upon her face.

< 4 >

She tried to speak to the little quadroon boy; but no sound would come, at first. When he heard his name uttered, he looked up, and his mistress was pointing to the door. He laid aside the great, soft fan, and obediently stole away, over the polished floor, on his bare tiptoes. She stayed motionless, with gaze riveted upon her child, and her face the picture of fright. Presently her husband entered the room, and without noticing her, went to a table and began to search among some papers which covered it. "Armand," she called to him, in a voice which must have stabbed him, if he was human. But he did not notice. "Armand," she said again. Then she rose and tottered towards him. "Armand," she panted once more, clutching his arm, "look at our child. What does it mean? Tell me." He coldly but gently loosened her fingers from about his arm and thrust the hand away from him. "Tell me what it means!" she cried despairingly. "It means," he answered lightly, "that the child is not white; it means that you are not white." A quick conception of all that this accusation meant for her nerved her with unwonted courage to deny it. "It is a lie; it is not true, I am white! Look at my hair, it is brown; and my eyes are gray, Armand, you know they are gray. And my skin is fair," seizing his wrist. "Look at my hand; whiter than yours, Armand," she laughed hysterically. "As white as La Blanche's," he returned cruelly; and went away leaving her alone with their child. When she could hold a pen in her hand, she sent a despairing letter to Madame Valmonde. "My mother, they tell me I am not white. Armand has told me I am not white. For God's sake tell them it is not true. You must know it is not true. I shall die. I must die. I cannot be so unhappy, and live." The answer that came was brief: "My own Desiree: Come home to Valmonde; back to your mother who loves you. Come with your child." When the letter reached Desiree she went with it to her husband's study, and laid it open upon the desk before which he sat. She was like a stone image: silent, white, motionless after she placed it there.

< 5 >

In silence he ran his cold eyes over the written words. He said nothing. "Shall I go, Armand?" she asked in tones sharp with agonized suspense. "Yes, go." "Do you want me to go?" "Yes, I want you to go." He thought Almighty God had dealt cruelly and unjustly with him; and felt, somehow, that he was paying Him back in kind when he stabbed thus into his wife's soul. Moreover he no longer loved her, because of the unconscious injury she had brought upon his home and his name. She turned away like one stunned by a blow, and walked slowly towards the door, hoping he would call her back. "Good-by, Armand," she moaned. He did not answer her. That was his last blow at fate. Desiree went in search of her child. Zandrine was pacing the sombre gallery with it. She took the little one from the nurse's arms with no word of explanation, and descending the steps, walked away, under the live-oak branches. It was an October afternoon; the sun was just sinking. Out in the still fields the negroes were picking cotton. Desiree had not changed the thin white garment nor the slippers which she wore. Her hair was uncovered and the sun's rays brought a golden gleam from its brown meshes. She did not take the broad, beaten road which led to the far-off plantation of Valmonde. She walked across a deserted field, where the stubble bruised her tender feet, so delicately shod, and tore her thin gown to shreds. She disappeared among the reeds and willows that grew thick along the banks of the deep, sluggish bayou; and she did not come back again. Some weeks later there was a curious scene enacted at L'Abri. In the centre of the smoothly swept back yard was a great bonfire. Armand Aubigny sat in the wide hallway that commanded a view of the spectacle; and it was he who dealt out to a half dozen negroes the material which kept this fire ablaze. A graceful cradle of willow, with all its dainty furbishings, was laid upon the pyre, which had already been fed with the richness of a priceless layette. Then there were silk gowns, and velvet and satin ones added to these; laces, too, and embroideries; bonnets and gloves; for the corbeille had been of rare quality.

< 6 >

The last thing to go was a tiny bundle of letters; innocent little scribblings that Desiree had sent to him during the days of their espousal. There was the remnant of one back in the drawer from which he took them. But it was not Desiree's; it was part of an old letter from his mother to his father. He read it. She was thanking God for the blessing of her husband's love:-- "But above all," she wrote, "night and day, I thank the good God for having so arranged our lives that our dear Armand will never know that his mother, who adores him, belongs to the race that is cursed with the brand of slavery."

A Rhetoric Explosion

Where is the best place to find rhetoric? This is a question that many students may ask, it can’t truly be answered but one thing is certain when one has to analyze poetry, they have hit a landmine of rhetoric. Take early American poet Anne Bradstreet. Yes a woman, someone has hit the rhetoric jackpot, especially with Mrs. Bradstreet. Anne Bradstreet was one of the earliest feminist of America; she was alive during the 17th century, a time when women pretty much had no say in anything. Two of her poems; The Author to Her Book and To My Dear and Loving Husband, contained much rhetoric that was just waiting to be analyzed.

The first poem that was analyzed was To My Dear and Loving Husband. Right of the back repetition was noticed in the first three lines of the poem. The word If and ever were the first two words of the first three lines. Another thing that is significant is the syntax. There is clearly a rhyming pattern, at least at first. The poem seems to have an aabbccdeff pattern. Why is this pattern broken up? The two words that break up this pattern are recompense and quench. Diction also plays a huge role in this poem. First off, the author uses words like thee, doth, nor, and thy. These words let the readers know that this poem was written in an older time period, maybe the 15th, 16th, or 17th century. Imagery is also present. In the poem there is line that reads “Or all the riches that the East doth hold.” The author uses compares her and her husband’s love to the riches that are in the world, riches like gold and silver, or money and wealth in general. Another use of figurative language that Anne Bradstreet uses is in line 8 when she says “My love is such that rivers cannot quench.” What does she mean by quench, is she thirsty for more love or is her love like a fire that can’t be put out by even this large amount of water. One last thing that stood out in this poem was the end. In the last two lines the rhyming pattern seems to be broken again, the lines read,

“Then while we live, in love let's so persevere

that when we live no more, we may live ever.”

At first glance one may believe that these words don’t rhyme at all, but one must not forget to take account in that this poem was written in a different time period, and words may have sounded different back then. This poem was loaded with rhetoric; this shows that the author was very well educated especially for a woman.

The second poem that was analyzed was Anne Bradstreet’s poem titled The Author and Her Book. Once again diction helps the reader understand that the poem was written in an earlier time period. Words like thou, thy, thence, and thee support this claim. Bradstreet seems to have a knack for rhyming patters with a twist at the end, this poems pattern is; aabbccccddeeffgghhiijkjkll. This poem seems to contain a lot of metaphors too. The first line of the poem contains a metaphor, this line reads:

“Thou ill-form'd offspring of my feeble brain,”

After seeing the word offspring one may have believed that Bradstreet was talking about one of her children, but after careful analysis one can understand that the author is actually referring to her poem as being from her. Her poems are like her children. Once this is taken into account the poem is much easier to understand. For example in lines 10-14, which read,

“Thy visage was so irksome in my sight;

Yet being mine own, at length affection would

Thy blemishes amend, if so I could:

I wash'd thy face, but more defects I saw,

And rubbing off a spot, still made a flaw.”

By washing thy face, Bradstreet means that she fixed the poems till they were clean or perfected. The metaphors in this poem are amazing, but wait, there is one more metaphor, and guess where it is. Once again Anne Bradstreet has left the readers with a twist at the end, the last two lines of the poem read,

“And for thy mother, she alas is poor, Which caus'd her thus to send thee out of door”

At first glance it seems that Anne Bradstreet is poor and in need of money, so in order to save money she had to get rid of her child. This is not what these two lines mean at all. Anne Bradstreet is not poor at all she is actually quite well off. The reader must take into account that the author is not talking about an actual child but the poem itself. Sometimes, back when this poem was written, women used to get their literary work publish in order to make a little cash, this is what Anne was saying in her poem.

Anne Bradstreets poems showed how poetry can contain huge amounts of rhetoric. Her poems contained almost every type of rhetoric there is. Anne Bradstreet was a gifted poet who is well respected for her skill.

who is this Anne Chic?

Anne Bradstreet was born in 1612 to Thomas Dudley. At age 16 she married her “childhood” sweetheart Simon Bradstreet, who was 25 years old. Simon was close to Anne’s father and in 1630 Mr. Dudley and his family, including Simon and Anne, sailed to America. Anne was well tutored in Literature and history, and also Greek, Latin, French, Hebrew, and of course English. Anne’s Father and husband were heavily involved in the early government of Massachusetts, and both eventually became governor of Massachusetts. By her family being involved in politics, Anne had it better than most women. Anne was allowed to use her brain to the fullest extent and show her charm and intelligence, while other women were punished for showing such independence. Ann Hutchinson was a friend of Anne’s, Ann Hutchinson’s fiery spirit led to her death unlike Anne, whose spirit led to profit and praise. Anne who mainly wrote poetry for herself, her family, and friends took her poetry seriously. Anne was originally known historically for her husbands, her work appealed to many 20th century feminist, because of them Anne Bradstreet, a pious mother of 8, was finally recognized as the poetic genius she was.

The Man who is not a Man, but a Thing/Savage

Who or what the heck is this. This thing is Cabeza de Vaca. In his narrative Cabeza describes how he was captive and was forced to follow the same customs as the Indian tribes he was "forced" to lived with. This picture of this savage like man shows how Cabeza went from being a somewhat famous Spaniard to looking like a wild Indian man. One word that is mentioned many times is hunger. In the picture the man looks very scrawny and small, his size could mean that he doesn’t eat well and according to Cabeza, some of the Indian tribes which he stayed with went days or weeks without eating. Cabeza talks about how the Indians live a hard life and by looking at this man’s face one can tell that his life has been rough. Not every attribute gained has been a bad one; living with various tribes of Indians has made Cabeza stronger and a hard worker. Towards the end of the narrative, Cabeza says that the Christians (who are actually another group of Spainards) didn’t even know who he was, they couldn’t tell him apart from the natives until he started to speak in his native tongue. At the beginning Cabeza refer s to the natives and their customs as ignorant and barbarous, but in the end he refers to them as a generous group of people who live tough lives but still find away to rely on another. Not only has Cabeza de Vaca learned from the Indians, he has become one just like in the picture.

Me and English, no English and I, or is it English and Me?

English hurts me more than football im sorry but its true. I dont hate it, i just wish it would leave me alone for the next 2, no 6 years. i'm sorry teacher but this is how i feel about english. I'll try my best to pass this class.

ps. even writting this is hurting my head

B-E-A-UTIFUL Caribbean Island

My rhetorical analysis of Christopher Columbus’s letters dealt with his first voyage in which he discovered the New World. In this analysis, the first letter was described as having a positive tone and diction was used to support that. Columbus used words like beautiful and marvelous to describe the landscape of the Caribbean islands. This picture helps create the image of the beautiful landscape. Columbus was awed by this beauty which he fell upon. The picture shows how green the land was. This was important because in the analysis the word cultivation was highlighted. All of this unused land that the Columbus discovered turned out to be very valuable not only for the Spanish, but for the whole world. The beautiful flowers and trees can also be seen. If Columbus had a camera back then it would have been a lot easier for Luis de Sentinel to understand what Columbus was trying to say because he could see the landscape, but instead Columbus had to use imagery and diction to help Luis de Sentinel visualize the landscape. If this was what Columbus saw in the Caribbean it was no wonder that his letter had a positive tone ,unlike his other letters, because discovering such a beautiful and marvelous land would please anyone.

Rhetoric and Columbus Letters

Eric Hayes
AP English III
Period 2
Christopher Columbus

Christopher Columbus is famous, as we all know, for accidentally “discovering” the New World. After this “discovery” Columbus set out on 4 more voyages, between 1492 and 1502, to the New World. Throughout is voyages, Columbus sent letters too many people. After some these letters one can analyze rhetoric strategies to understand the letters in a deeper meaning. Let’s examine two of Columbus’s letters.

The first letter that was read was written on Columbus’s first voyage and it was to Luis de Sentinel, a former merchant and court official since 1478 who had supported Columbus’s proposal to the Spanish Crown for his first voyage. The letter was written at sea in February 15, 1493. Ethos is established right away because this was a letter that was published across Europe and the words that are written in it are the words of Columbus, the sender. This letter is about the islands and the Indians Columbus encountered in the Caribbean. Diction is also key in understanding the letter. One can infer that the letter is a positive one that has a good vibe. When Columbus uses words like hamlets, and Divine Majesty one can infer that the letter was written a long time ago. The words “marvelous” and “beautiful” were used a couple times which meant that Columbus was dazzled and impressed by something in the Caribbean. He was dazzled by the rich land of the Caribbean islands. One word that somewhat stood out was cultivate. This may seem unimportant but after seeing this word in the letter one could understand that this letter was no written just to tell Luis de Sentinel about the beauty of the islands, it was written to let Luis de Sentinel that these islands would be very profitable and that they need to be colonized. Columbus finishes the letter by saying “Espanola is a marvel.”

The second letter that was read was written to Ferdinand and Isabella regarding Columbus’s 4th voyage. He wrote it in Jamaica on July 7, 1503. Once again Ethos is established because this letter was also published across Europe and the words are those of Columbus. In the first line of the letter the word weeping is present; this meant that the letter was to be somewhat depressing. The letter lets the reader know that in this voyage Columbus was shipwrecked near Panama. During this time Columbus fears he has many enemies that are out to destroy and make him look bad. After his shipwreck Columbus feels that the voyage was dangerous and unprofitable just as some of the others were. Once again the diction lets the reader know the vibe or tone of the letter and this letter has a negative vibe. There were many negative words that stuck out, some of words included: inexplicable, ruined, wept, mercy upon me, cruelty, and expectation of death. A lot of people criticized Columbus which left him feeling down. In this letter Columbus lets the Crown know that he is upset because he and his 2 brothers were taken prisoner , thrown into a ship, covered in feathers, stripped naked and was very ill treated , and all this was done without being tried and or condemned. He wants to know that this was not done under royal command and he wants his honor restored, his losses returned and repaid, and that whoever did this to him be severely punished. The word weep was seen many times throughout the letter. This meant the Columbus was sad and hurt and he wanted the reader to feel sorry for him, this is the Pathos of the letter. The emotion felt was sadness. In the end Columbus finished his letter by asking Ferdinand and Isabella to send a ship to come get him because he wanted to come home and make pilgrimage to Rome.