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12. Katherine Mansfield (1888-1923)
Life
Katherine Mansfield was born in 1888 in Wellington, New Zealand. Her father
was a successful businessman and her mother was of genteel origins. She was
sent to London to receive musical education, when she was fifteen. She went
back to Wellington in 1906, but left New Zealand again and forever in 1908.
She settled in London and started to contribute to different periodicals in
England. Mansfield ever had an unhappy marriage with a musical teacher. She
met John Middleton Murray, a literary critic and essayist two years later
after her marriage. They fell in love and married in 1918 after a long
cohabitation. The man actually became a significant figure in her life. He
published many of her stories and edited and published two books of short
stories and many letters. Katherine Mansfield was of poor health all her
life. She lived much of her last years in southern France and in Switzerland
for revocer, where she wrote much about her roots and childhood. She died of
tuberculosis in 1923.
Focusing on trivial events and subtle changes in human
behavior, Mansfield reveals some depressive themes in her stories with the
bitter depiction of her middle-class characters. Her notable use of stream
of consciousness is regarded as something of a rival of Virginia Woolf. The
death of her brother, Leslie Beauchamp, in 1915, while serving with the army
in the First World War, had a profound influence on her writing. This is
reflected in her first major work, Prelude (1917). Mansfield
published two collections of short stories before her death. They are
Bliss and Other Stories (1920) and The Garden Party and Other Stories
(1922). After her death two further collections of short stories were
published: The Dove's Nest (1923) and Something Childish
(1924).
The Garden Party
Written during her final stages of illness, the story secured her reputation
as a writer. In The Garden Party an extravagant garden-party is
arranged on a beautiful day. The story begins with the elaborate
preparations by the mother, Laura, the daughter of the party's hostess and
other servants. During the process, Laura’s mind is interposed by her
monologues. She hears of the accidental death of a young local working-class
man, Mr. Scott. The man lives in the neighborhood. Laura wants to cancel the
party for the misery of the poor man, but her mother refuses to understand.
She fills a basket with sandwiches, cakes, pastries and other food, goes to
the widow's house, and sees the dead man in the bedroom where he is lying.
“He was wonderful, beautiful. While they were laughing and while the band
was playing, this marvel had come to the lane." Crying she tells her brother
who is looking for her: "'It was simply marvelous. But, Laurie - ' She
stopped, she looked at her brother. 'Isn't life,' she stammered, 'isn't life
- ' But what life was she couldn't explain. No matter. He quite understood."
It is quite typical of Katharine Mansfield. The story
criticizes “these stupid class distinctions” with great sympathy for the
poor laboring people. The use of interior monologue emerges everywhere to
give a round portrait of the character, at the same time, reveal the growth
of self-awareness. The prose style is delightful with careful choice of
diction. The following excerpt is taken from The Garden Party, when
Laura tries to prevent her mother from holding the party for the death of
Scott, a cater:
“Mother, can I
come into your room?” Laura turned the big glass doorknob.
“Of course, child. Why, what’s the matter? What’s given
you such a color?” and Mrs. Sheridan turned round from her dressing-table.
She was trying on a new hat.
“Mother, a man’s been killed,” began Laura.
“Not in the garden?” interrupted her mother.
“No, no!”
“Oh, what a fright you gave me!” Mrs. Sheridan sighed with
relief, and took off the big hat and held it on her knees.
“But listen, mother,” said Laura. Breathless, half-chocking,
she told the dreadful story. “Of course, we can’t have our party, can we?”
she pleaded. “The band and everybody arriving. They’d hear us, mother;
they’re nearly neighbors!”
To Laura’s astonishment her mother behaved just like Jose; it was
harder to bear because she seemed amused. She refused to tale Laura
seriously.
“But, my dear child, use your common sense. It’s only by accident
we’ve heard of it. If someone had died there normally--and I can’t
understand how they keep alive in those poky little holes—we should still be
having our party, shouldn’t we?”
Laura had to say “yes” to that, but she felt it was all wrong. She
sat down on her mother’s sofa and pinched the cushion frill.
“Mother, isn’t it really terribly heartless of us?” she
asked.
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