In The Awakening, author Kate Chopin offers a story of self-exploration and fulfillment in protagonist Edna, who finds herself at odds with the warped society that is hers reality. Set primarily in the Louisiana Islands, the Gulf of Mexico is perhaps the second most important character in the piece. Countless aquatic descriptions exist, but they are difficult to analyze as a whole. Depending on your perspective, the sea might seem predominantly male or predominantly female. Given the feminist nature of the novel, I choose to adopt the latter view. However, this is not necessarily a sufficient limitation. Given the setting and Chopin's dedication to regional writing, it is unlikely that she was not influenced by or at least exposed to stories of Louisiana witchcraft or Maritime witchcraft. While the characterization of the sea mother is more obvious, the witch helps explain the more sexual, phallic and seductive representations of water. Both personifications will be explored in this article. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay The scent of the sea returns a few times in the book, as does the ocean breeze. The first references to the breeze coincide with the discussion of the sensual aroma of the sea, which could attempt an interpretation of the characterization of the sea lover. The following evidence is more suggestive of the female embodiment of water. “The sun was low in the west and the breeze was gentle and warm” (1262). The sweetness and warmth of the breeze are clearly maternal. The time of day in the sun state could imply a more mystical entity. Twilight is not something the reader would likely associate with the figure of the sea mother, but rather the sea witch. Later, the sea is given a voice, another trait that continually entices Edna to go for a swim and distracts her from her domestic obligations. . “Her gaze wandered from his face towards the Gulf, whose sonorous murmur reached her like a loving but imperative supplication” (1262). The act of humming has always seemed more feminine than masculine to me. And historically and culturally, the reduced volume of a puff would also more easily align with the expected behavior of women. Naturally, the various definitions of “sonic” complicate this reading of the phrase a bit. Despite this, this sentence is reminiscent of the maternal one, with a thoughtful and important request. The voice descriptions continue. “The voice of the sea is seductive; without ever ceasing, whispering, shouting, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a time in the abyss of solitude to get lost in the labyrinths of interior contemplation” (1263). This quote, which returns at the end of the novel, shows how the seductive properties of the sea – while thought of primarily as indicative of a male lover – could be more of a nod to a witch figure. Sirens, a kind of aquatic witches, have almost always been depicted as seductresses with beautiful voices used to lure sailors to their deaths. There are shared qualities in The Awakening. The sea, personified with a seductive voice and features, is eerily similar to the classic description of the mermaid. Even if she is not a witch per se, the interpretation of the mermaid corresponds to a darker and more mystical reading of the female sea. As you read on, there is another fascinating description of the voice of the sea. “The voice of the sea speaks to the soul” (1263). Many of the supporting quotes used in this article have been quite ambiguous in their ability to be interpreted as relating to the male lover, mother, and personificationsof the ocean. This fragment seems to only really clearly align with the mystical. Something that connects to the soul in a transformative way and struggles to be understood could suggest paranormal power. In the following two pieces, Chopin portrays the sea as a reflective space and mysterious thing that attracts attention. First, “The moon was rising, and its mystic twinkle cast a million lights across the distant, restless water” (1272). This idea is repeated at the end of the novel: “The water of the Gulf lay before her shining with the millions of lights of the sun” (1343). This could be interpreted in many ways, although there are really only two perspectives that interest me. First, this is simply another way Chopin chooses to make the sea seem more alluring, drawing Edna into his grasp, which is quite obvious. However, this attention to the surface of the water and its reflective properties combined with the novel's awareness of self-realization may not be accidental. These two ideas are not mutually exclusive. The author may force Edna's attention to the sea so that the sea can teach her something about herself. The fundamental reason why I struggle to read Chopin's sea as strictly maternal is the repeated simile comparing the crests of waves to serpents. “The sea was now calm, and swelled lazily into broad billows which blended into each other and broke only upon the beach in little foamy crests which coiled like slow white serpents” (1274). This is seen at least twice in the novel. Snakes and serpents are generally threatening and, when described through the binary gender, phallic and therefore masculine. However, snakes often have significance in witchcraft, both in voodoo and other practices. The juxtaposition of sea and serpent also reminds me of Hans Christian Andersen's classic, The Little Mermaid. There the sea witch is assisted and protected by the sea serpents. Medusa, an icon from Greek mythology, also shares images of water and the serpent. According to myths, he lived on an island, had snakes instead of hair, and also had wings. Birds and wings are often used as metaphorical devices in The Awakening. The penultimate page of the story is disturbing. “All along the white beach, up and down, there was nothing living in sight. A bird with a broken wing beat the air above, wavering, fluttering, circling crippled down to the water” (1343). While this may simply be a foreboding device to hint at Edna's fate, the mutilation of the bird and its attraction to the water indicating its impending death once again offers a darker and more sinister look at the sea. Additionally, birds were often used in voodoo practices in southern Louisiana. The mere use of an omen denotes a mystical influence that does not fit the ideal of the sea mother. On the last page of the novel there are aquatic references that suggest both the characterization of the sea witch and that of the sea mother. Once again, the reader sees the most sinister and mystical images of the serpent. “The foaming waves curled to his white feet and coiled like serpents around his ankles” (1344). This bewitching description is followed by the most welcoming maternal evocations. After Edna takes off her clothes, there is a strong series of neonatal-maternal descriptions. “He felt like a new-born creature, opening his eyes into a familiar world he had never known” (1344). Here we have Edna, the newborn, naked and vulnerable. “The touch of the sea is sensual, it envelops the body in its soft and tight embrace” (1344). The softness and enveloping nature of this sea offer a much more disposition.