Chapter XXVII — Summary

Plot Summary

Chapter XXVII of The Awakening presents an intimate evening scene between Edna Pontellier and Alcée Arobin. Edna reclines on a lounge before the fire in an unusually happy mood. When Arobin asks what accounts for her spirits, she deflects with a quip about the weather prophet promising sunshine. He sits close to her on a low tabouret, his fingers lightly touching the hair that falls over her forehead. The chapter unfolds entirely through their conversation and physical proximity, building toward a climactic kiss.

Edna’s Moral Self-Examination

In one of the novel’s most revealing speeches, Edna tells Arobin she intends to “pull myself together for a while and think” about what kind of woman she truly is. She admits that “by all the codes which I am acquainted with, I am a devilishly wicked specimen of the sex,” yet she cannot convince herself of her own wickedness. This moment captures Edna’s growing awareness that conventional morality does not map onto her inner life. She recognizes society’s judgment but refuses to internalize it, a stance that places her outside the moral framework her Creole world takes for granted. Arobin, characteristically, dismisses the question—“Don’t. What’s the use?”—preferring flattery to genuine reflection.

The Bird That Would Soar

The conversation shifts when Edna introduces Mademoiselle Reisz, the pianist Arobin knows only by sight. Edna recounts how Reisz felt her shoulder blades upon parting and delivered the chapter’s most significant passage: “The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice must have strong wings. It is a sad spectacle to see the weaklings bruised, exhausted, fluttering back to earth.” This warning—part encouragement, part prophecy—tests whether Edna possesses the strength to sustain the unconventional life she is building. Arobin calls Reisz “partially demented,” but Edna counters that she seems “wonderfully sane.” The exchange underscores the gulf between Arobin’s shallow worldliness and the deeper currents of thought that increasingly occupy Edna.

The First True Kiss

Kate Chopin closes the chapter with one of the novel’s most pivotal moments. As Edna tells Arobin to talk about her while she thinks of “something else,” their eyes meet and he leans forward and kisses her. She clasps his head, holding his lips to hers. The final two sentences carry immense weight: “It was the first kiss of her life to which her nature had really responded. It was a flaming torch that kindled desire.” This is not a first kiss in a literal sense—Edna is married with children—but it is the first time physical passion has truly awakened in her. The image of a “flaming torch” signals that something irreversible has begun, linking Edna’s sexual awakening to the larger pattern of self-discovery that drives the novel toward its conclusion.