"Bliss" by Katherine Mansfield

Virginia Woolf once said Katherine Mansfield produced "the only writing I have ever been jealous of."  Woolf also wrote  "... the more she is praised, the more I am convinced she is bad."  


That quotation opened my 2010 post on Katherine Mansfield's short story "The Doll's House" (a story which remains one of my favorites), yet at the time I did not truly understand how Woolf could have been jealous of Mansfield's work. After reading "Bliss", I am better able to appreciate her feeling. The story opens:

Although Bertha Young was thirty she still had moments like this when she wanted to run instead of walk, to take dancing steps on and off the pavement, to bowl a hoop, to throw something up in the air and catch it again, or to stand still and laugh at - nothing - at nothing, simply.

     What can you do if you are thirty and, turning the corner of your own street, you are overcome, suddenly by a feeling of bliss - absolute bliss! - as though you'd suddenly swallowed a bright piece of that late afternoon sun and it burned in your bosom, sending out a little shower of sparks into every particle, into every finger and toe? ...

Bertha has a handsome husband, a lovely young daughter, and a beautiful home and garden. She marvels at the beauty of a fruit arrangement and at the pear tree in the garden. The tree becomes one of the central images in the story suggesting fertility or sexuality. Bertha is overcome by an intense feeling of bliss as she prepares for a dinner party that evening. A stream-of-consciousness narration is especially effective in telling the story.

Friends arrive and the party is a success. After the meal, Bertha shares a moment of understanding with her new friend, Miss Pearl Fulton, as they gaze upon the garden.

 And the two women stood side by side looking at the slender, flowering tree. Although it was so still it seemed, like the flame of a candle, to stretch up, to point, to quiver in the bright air, to grow taller and taller as they gazed - almost to touch the rim of the round, silver moon.

     How long did they stand there? Both, as it were, caught in that circle of unearthly light, understanding each other perfectly, creatures of another world, and wondering what they were to do in this one with all this blissful treasure that burned in their bosoms and dropped, in silver flowers, from their hair and hands?

The actions of Bertha's husband suggest he may not like Miss Fulton, so Bertha vows to change his mind when they talk in bed later that evening. The reader then comes to understand Bertha's feeling of bliss as newly awakening desire for her husband. When the guests are leaving, Bertha witnesses a startling exchange between her husband, Harry, and Miss Fulton.

Is the exchange real? Has Bertha misunderstood or imagined it? The story ends abruptly with no resolution, just another image of the pear tree " as lovely as ever and as full of flower and as still."

I loved this story! "Bliss" was one of Mansfield's last, written in 1920, just three years before her death at age 34.  It shows the work of a more mature writer and I cannot help but be reminded of Mrs. Dalloway, published five years later in 1925. You may read the story here.

Short Story Monday is hosted by John Mutford at The Book Mine Set.