Miss Brill
Although it was so brilliantly fine - the blue sky powdered with gold and great spots of light like white wine splashed over the Jardins Publiques - Miss Brill was glad that she had decided on her fur. The air was motionless, but when you opened your mouth there was just a faint chill, like a chill from a glass of iced water before you sip, and now and again a leaf came drifting - from nowhere, from the sky. Miss Brill put up her hand and touched her fur. Dear little thing! It was nice to feel it again. She had taken it out of its box that afternoon, shaken out the moth-powder, given it a good brush, and rubbed the life back into the dim little eyes. "What has been happening to me?" said the sad little eyes. Oh, how sweet it was to see them snap at her again from the red eiderdown! ... But the nose, which was of some black composition, wasn't at all firm. It must have had a knock, somehow. Never mind - a little dab of black sealing-wax when the time came - when it was absolutely necessary ... Little rogue! Yes, she really felt like that about it. Little rogue biting its tail just by her left ear. She could have taken it off and laid it on her lap and stroked it. She felt a tingling in her hands and arms, but that came from walking, she supposed. And when she breathed, something light and sad - no, not sad, exactly - something gentle seemed to move in her bosom.
There were a number of people out this afternoon, far more than last Sunday. And the band sounded louder and gayer. That was because the Season had begun. For although the band played all the year round on Sundays, out of season it was never the same. It was like some one playing with only the family to listen; it didn't care how it played if there weren't any strangers present. Wasn't the conductor wearing a new coat, too? She was sure it was new. He scraped with his foot and flapped his arms like a rooster about to crow, and the bandsmen sitting in the green rotunda blew out their cheeks and glared at the music. Now there came a little "flutey" bit - very pretty! - a little chain of bright drops. She was sure it would be repeated. It was; she lifted her head and smiled.
Only two people shared her "special" seat: a fine old man in a velvet coat, his hands clasped over a huge carved walking-stick, and a big old woman, sitting upright, with a roll of knitting on her embroidered apron. They did not speak. This was disappointing, for Miss Brill always looked forward to the conversation. She had become really quite expert, she thought, at listening as though she didn't listen, at sitting in other people's lives just for a minute while they talked round her.
She glanced, sideways, at the old couple. Perhaps they would go soon. Last Sunday, too, hadn't been as interesting as usual. An Englishman and his wife, he wearing a dreadful Panama hat and she button boots. And she'd gone on the whole time about how she ought to wear spectacles; she knew she needed them; but that it was no good getting any; they'd be sure to break and they'd never keep on. And he'd been so patient. He'd suggested everything - gold rims, the kind that curved round your ears, little pads inside the bridge. No, nothing would please her. "They'll always be sliding down my nose!" Miss Brill had wanted to shake her.
The old people sat on the bench, still as statues. Never mind, there was always the crowd to watch. To and fro, in front of the flower-beds and the band rotunda, the couples and groups paraded, stopped to talk, to greet, to buy a handful of flowers from the old beggar who had his tray fixed to the railings. Little children ran among them, swooping and laughing; little boys with big white silk bows under their chins, little girls, little French dolls, dressed up in velvet and lace. And sometimes a tiny staggerer came suddenly rocking into the open from under the trees, stopped, stared, as suddenly sat down "flop," until its small high-stepping mother, like a young hen, rushed scolding to its rescue. Other people sat on the benches and green chairs, but they were nearly always the same, Sunday after Sunday, and - Miss Brill had often noticed - there was something funny about nearly all of them. They were odd, silent, nearly all old, and from the way they stared they looked as though they'd just come from dark little rooms or even - even cupboards!
Behind the rotunda the slender trees with yellow leaves down drooping, and through them just a line of sea, and beyond the blue sky with gold-veined clouds.
Tum-tum-tum tiddle-um! tiddle-um! tum tiddley-um tum ta! blew the band.
Two young girls in red came by and two young soldiers in blue met them, and they laughed and paired and went off arm-in-arm. Two peasant women with funny straw hats passed, gravely, leading beautiful smoke-coloured donkeys. A cold, pale nun hurried by. A beautiful woman came along and dropped her bunch of violets, and a little boy ran after to hand them to her, and she took them and threw them away as if they'd been poisoned. Dear me! Miss Brill didn't know whether to admire that or not! And now an ermine toque and a gentleman in grey met just in front of her. He was tall, stiff, dignified, and she was wearing the ermine toque she'd bought when her hair was yellow. Now everything, her hair, her face, even her eyes, was the same colour as the shabby ermine, and her hand, in its cleaned glove, lifted to dab her lips, was a tiny yellowish paw. Oh, she was so pleased to see him - delighted! She rather thought they were going to meet that afternoon. She described where she'd been - everywhere, here, there, along by the sea. The day was so charming - didn't he agree? And wouldn't he, perhaps? ... But he shook his head, lighted a cigarette, slowly breathed a great deep puff into her face, and even while she was still talking and laughing, flicked the match away and walked on. The ermine toque was alone; she smiled more brightly than ever. But even the band seemed to know what she was feeling and played more softly, played tenderly, and the drum beat, "The Brute! The Brute!" over and over. What would she do? What was going to happen now? But as Miss Brill wondered, the ermine toque turned, raised her hand as though she'd seen some one else, much nicer, just over there, and pattered away. And the band changed again and played more quickly, more gayly than ever, and the old couple on Miss Brill's seat got up and marched away, and such a funny old man with long whiskers hobbled along in time to the music and was nearly knocked over by four girls walking abreast.
Oh, how fascinating it was! How she enjoyed it! How she loved sitting here, watching it all! It was like a play. It was exactly like a play. Who could believe the sky at the back wasn't painted? But it wasn't till a little brown dog trotted on solemn and then slowly trotted off, like a little "theatre" dog, a little dog that had been drugged, that Miss Brill discovered what it was that made it so exciting. They were all on the stage. They weren't only the audience, not only looking on; they were acting. Even she had a part and came every Sunday. No doubt somebody would have noticed if she hadn't been there; she was part of the performance after all. How strange she'd never thought of it like that before! And yet it explained why she made such a point of starting from home at just the same time each week - so as not to be late for the performance - and it also explained why she had quite a queer, shy feeling at telling her English pupils how she spent her Sunday afternoons. No wonder! Miss Brill nearly laughed out loud. She was on the stage. She thought of the old invalid gentleman to whom she read the newspaper four afternoons a week while he slept in the garden. She had got quite used to the frail head on the cotton pillow, the hollowed eyes, the open mouth and the high pinched nose. If he'd been dead she mightn't have noticed for weeks; she wouldn't have minded. But suddenly he knew he was having the paper read to him by an actress! "An actress!" The old head lifted; two points of light quivered in the old eyes. "An actress - are ye?" And Miss Brill smoothed the newspaper as though it were the manuscript of her part and said gently; "Yes, I have been an actress for a long time."
The band had been having a rest. Now they started again. And what they played was warm, sunny, yet there was just a faint chill - a something, what was it? - not sadness - no, not sadness - a something that made you want to sing. The tune lifted, lifted, the light shone; and it seemed to Miss Brill that in another moment all of them, all the whole company, would begin singing. The young ones, the laughing ones who were moving together, they would begin, and the men's voices, very resolute and brave, would join them. And then she too, she too, and the others on the benches - they would come in with a kind of accompaniment - something low, that scarcely rose or fell, something so beautiful - moving ... And Miss Brill's eyes filled with tears and she looked smiling at all the other members of the company. Yes, we understand, we understand, she thought - though what they understood she didn't know.
Just at that moment a boy and girl came and sat down where the old couple had been. They were beautifully dressed; they were in love. The hero and heroine, of course, just arrived from his father's yacht. And still soundlessly singing, still with that trembling smile, Miss Brill prepared to listen.
"No, not now," said the girl. "Not here, I can't."
"But why? Because of that stupid old thing at the end there?" asked the boy. "Why does she come here at all - who wants her? Why doesn't she keep her silly old mug at home?"
"It's her fu-ur which is so funny," giggled the girl. "It's exactly like a fried whiting."
"Ah, be off with you!" said the boy in an angry whisper. Then: "Tell me, ma petite chere--"
"No, not here," said the girl. "Not yet."
On her way home she usually bought a slice of honey-cake at the baker's. It was her Sunday treat. Sometimes there was an almond in her slice, sometimes not. It made a great difference. If there was an almond it was like carrying home a tiny present - a surprise - something that might very well not have been there. She hurried on the almond Sundays and struck the match for the kettle in quite a dashing way.
But to-day she passed the baker's by, climbed the stairs, went into the little dark room - her room like a cupboard - and sat down on the red eiderdown. She sat there for a long time. The box that the fur came out of was on the bed. She unclasped the necklet quickly; quickly, without looking, laid it inside. But when she put the lid on she thought she heard something crying.
Comments
This is a sad story. -Buckleys
This is a sad story. -Buckleys
Hey! Like many others, I am here to find some ideas for my..
Hey! Like many others, I am here to find some ideas for my essay that I have to write for mt English 3201 class. I didnt really know what to say about "Miss Brill," but after reading the comments that others have made, I think that I can finally put two and two together and understand, figuratively, what is happening. Thanks to everyone who has put in a helpful comment!.....By the way, I liked the story. KAtherine Mansfield uses very descriptive language to portray what she wants others to see.....TL
This storys main purpose is obviously characterization. ..
This storys main purpose is obviously characterization. The purpose of the story is not to provide a thrilling plot. Theres so much more to literature than than exciting plot twists. Theres a lot of symbolism in this story. Miss Brills fur stole is Miss Brill. I like the line from Edith Whartons "Roman Fever" which says that both women looked at each other through the wrong end of their little telescopes. Miss Brill is looking at the rest of the world through the wrong end of her little telescope. Its such a sad and beautiful story.
This short story is about a lonely single woman trying to..
This short story is about a lonely single woman trying to find comfort while being isolated ina a foreign country. Miss Brill goes to the play to seek solace and companionship - even if she does know it is a farse.
Miss Brill is disalousined old woman. The relationship with..
Miss Brill is disalousined old woman. The relationship with her fur is that she thinks it is beautiful and it is part of her..so since she thinks that every one must think that to. When the two young people put her down they are voicing what every one else thinks. No one talks when they sit beside her because they no she is listing. I think when the two young people put her down it is just a minor setback, she will be back at the park next Sunday
Katherine Mansfield has a very special way of narrating a..
Katherine Mansfield has a very special way of narrating a story. Different from the Dolls House, the narrator in this story is Miss Brill, but sometimes Mansfield jumps out and makes comments in Brills words. She cannot change this no matter how light-hearted the story seems at the beginning. Her life experience doesnt allow her to creat something happy.
This is a story about how time moves on, and most of us..
This is a story about how time moves on, and most of us never really realize how we are "behind the times" until someone tactless (like the young folks here) awakens us. As I read the comments made by teenagers who seem to turn up their nose at this story, I think "Theyll learn--we all did". I, too, was once a teenager, who saw old people as nothing but frumpy, boring, slowpokes always in the way and hopelessly out of touch with anything "cool". But, as I age (I am in my 40s now), I, too, begin to feel that I am out of touch with todays young people, and I am sure that some of the things (music, books, tastes) I enjoy from my past, such as this womans fur, would be ridiculuosly outdated at laughable to a newer generation. But they, too, will be old one day, and know the sadness of a lost time.
this story provokes a feeling of lonliness and misery..
this story provokes a feeling of lonliness and misery through the social isolation of Miss Brill; she is a poor old single woman with no friends but her fur, who lives her adventures merely through the lives of others. Miss Brill, faced by the preconceptions and stereotypes of society, struggles to overcome the social opression imposed upon her. her hopeless dreams of fitting in, crushed by a judgemental society, prove the misery she lives through each day. the fox fur she wears is symbolic of both her identity and her situation. by putting the fur back into its box mansfield represents how Miss Brill feels alone against the world and lives in isolation. the cry she hears from the box is her own cry of despair. as
When I read this story in highschool, it affected me deeply..
When I read this story in highschool, it affected me deeply and I have always remembered it. I am only 24 but I already feel like Miss Brill and I know that it will only get worse as I become older. Instead of masking my loneliness by creating a world in which I am an actor, as she does, I choose to hide from society and fill the despair that I feel with schoolwork, exercise and baking. As I sit by myself on a Friday night and re-read this story, I cannot help but cry.
I cant understand whether the events including the party,..
I cant understand whether the events including the party, the band and the death of a neigbor are true or they are just illusions. Are the kids Brills children? I wonder why almost everyone says it is a story in which old age is despised. Instead, it is recognized.
this short story is not about avoiding teenagers!! this..
this short story is not about avoiding teenagers!! this story is about the human condition and how we cope with certain truths-our escape mechanism to these certain truths.katherine mainsfield shows us this through the use of specific techniques-mainly interior monolouge.to really apretiate this story you have to look deeper than just the plot... look at the words, the carefull frases, the pase, the colour...you will then apretate how beautiful this is.!
I really enjoyed this short story by Mansfield. I have to..
I really enjoyed this short story by Mansfield. I have to write an essay for my Eng. class using this story. If you enjoyed this story you might want to read "Daughters of the Late Colonel" also by Mansfield. It is a favorite.
A terrible run-on sentence.
A terrible run-on sentence.
Yeah, so what happen at the end?? I think some of you guys..
Yeah, so what happen at the end?? I think some of you guys are putting too much meaning to it. It ended badly. I hate that out of all the short stories this is the one my group had to read. How am i supposed to explain it when i didnt even get.
Some say they dislike the end, one stating that it ended..
Some say they dislike the end, one stating that it ended abruptly and seemed rushed. If so, then it is as it should be. I think the whole of the story comes together in those last two paragraphs. Suddenly, the flowery language is gone. There is little description, only action and decision. The change in language, pacing, and even personal routine seems to underscore the effect the teenagers comments have had on Miss Brill. When she puts the fur back into the box she cannot bring herself to look at it and I think that is extremely important. Still, after being forced to accept the reality of things, she cannot face them directly. If we go back to the opening paragraph, and also accept the fur as being symbolic of her perceived youth or an extension / association of herself, we see Miss Brill in the same state it was in at the beginning: lifeless dim eyes and a nose that had taken a knock. If we look closely, the sadness is there in the first paragraph, and is even mentioned by name and half-acknowledged. Everything between the first and last paragraph is her attempts at that application of sealing wax. How sad this must be for this woman who once put the lifeless fur in her lap and stroked it, and even talked to it, to put it away indefinitely. We get the impression Miss Brill is never going to be able to wear that fur again in public. With the fur not only goes her illusions of youth, but shes also at a loss of companionship. I sometimes ask my students to choose which sentence they think is the most important. It may be interesting for each of you to determine that for yourselves. To me, it is this: "She sat there for a long time." I can imagine her in the dark, small room reexperiencing the event in her head, trying to calculate her loss. I imagine her bedside when the story ends, weeping the way one does at a funeral.
interesting
interesting
I think miss Brill is shy of a real relationship and sees..
I think miss Brill is shy of a real relationship and sees the large crowd as the closest she can come to human interaction. There no true personal element to it. This is the closent she can some to social normality. The young kids at the end, end even this , and she ends up worse. A play on the word end? She passed the bakers by, because today she doesnt feel that even this will uplift her. Thank you this site!!!!!!!!!!! Chris, Ireland
A lot of sad yet comedic irony as well as symbolism.
A lot of sad yet comedic irony as well as symbolism.
i think ms Brill is a lonely character. she goes there..
i think ms Brill is a lonely character. she goes there with the illusion that everyone around her is just like her, thinking they all too came every sunday from a little lonely cupboard, like she had. shes just looking for some closure that shes not the only lonely one in the world.
I would like to say I throughly enjoyed this story. I will..
I would like to say I throughly enjoyed this story. I will not say of those readers who had a contrary opinion that they were wrong-It was there opinion. But I will say that for those who commented on the "overuse" of description, that they are not writers nor probably even "readers". The use of description, as stated by others, is to put you in the moment so that you feel as if you are sitting on that bench with Miss Brill; or maybe hiding in a nearby bush. There is drastic difference between saying "There were clouds in the sky." and "The brillantly lit sky was dotted with fluffy white clouds" Gives you a better mental image. As far as the theme of this story goes, for me it was about the perceptions from inside and out. A person is not only one way. They are how they view themselves; how others view them and so forth. Our "realities" or views of ourselves can be smashed by one hateful person or incident. But there was even more to this short story..I dont think it was necessarily that she chose to be alone, but as it often happens to the elderly they are shoved in a dark corner or "cupboard" and ignored to only be thought of when convienent-that generation gap is brutal to the elderly. As more of their family & friends pass away they are left with less people who know them intimately enough to want to interact with them. As the "teenage" couple at the end of the story made apparent, the younger generation often has no desire to find out further what makes the elderly tick. WHAT A SHAME! To me that is a loss for the young and narrow-minded. Hopefully one day those who cannot see the value of the elderly will one day at least understand what they have lost...
Dont you just love Katherine Mansfields use of interior..
Dont you just love Katherine Mansfields use of interior monologue ! Such a powerful slice of life story. Miss Brills lonliness reminds me of Matildas in The Wind Blows. Also I have to applaud Mansfields use of symbolism with the fur necklat, simply brilliant.
well it confused me alot... i didnt get the ending at all...
well it confused me alot... i didnt get the ending at all. it says theres something crying in her box and then it just ends? so it never explains the ending at all which i really wish it did cuz i dont get it at all. there was no plot and no point. it was basically a description of a park or something. ya it was overall confusing and pointless.
Im doing this for my NCEA tomorrow and Im freakin out cos..
Im doing this for my NCEA tomorrow and Im freakin out cos theres so much in it. The language is perfect, the desrcriptions are beautiful and the characterisation seamless. Dumb exams!
a very sad ending....tsk tsk....teenagers these days...
a very sad ending....tsk tsk....teenagers these days...
what is the main plot
what is the main plot
This is somewhat of an intence story. I do feel sorry for..
This is somewhat of an intence story. I do feel sorry for Miss Brill; or anyone whatever the age being alone, without anyone around to love and care for them. I feel that all people nomatter their age needs this connection with someone (anyone). Being alone is hard and she is just that. It does not have to do with her age at all. It has to do with being alone and without love. So those of you that are teens - get over it - it has not a thing to do with age only lonelyness.
she lives her life vicariously through the people around..
she lives her life vicariously through the people around her, she is naive and lonley and at the same time desperate. All the while trying to fight off the sadness in her life, but in the ending its just enivitable. i thought the last sentence was beautiful.
yeah i thougfht it was very beeautifull...
yeah i thougfht it was very beeautifull...
Dont diss the story untill you have read it properly. It is..
Dont diss the story untill you have read it properly. It is not a dumb ending-the ending is the best part. She does not buy a slice because today she realises that the way she views herself is not how others do. Today she does not buy a slice as she does not buy into the illusion that she usually lives under-that she is part of a "play" and that her life is very interesting and she is important. The putting away of the fox represents Miss Brill putting away the image of herself as a young person. All through the story she has repressed her health problems and disguised them as something else. eg at the start she just waves it off as "that just came from walking she supposed." she lives her life through other people.KM is a poet and throughly deserves credit for her work.
i like the story... it is a secretive story
i like the story... it is a secretive story
i thank most of you out there who made helpful comments, im..
i thank most of you out there who made helpful comments, im writing exam on it tomorrow and without your help i dont think i would have understoud the story.......my comment on the story is that it is a good peace on how to describe how the youth of today dont care for the elderly people, and that we dont understand how it must feel to be lonely and unwanted....it broke Miss brill in a milion peaces when the world she loved so much was taken from her by an arrogant little boy and the words he spoke, this is..how could i say....words and not a physical act killed her.....but it is not negative towards teenagers, it goes to show that it can only take silly little words to destroy someones hope in the world......
At first I thought this just a sad, lonely story with a..
At first I thought this just a sad, lonely story with a
weird end, like the fur was her only friend and she was
mad at it because 2 snotty kids basically made fun of
her. But I think it shows how people want to look
normal not only to themselves but to everyone else.
Then when someone is cruel and sees right thru you,
it brings what youve built crashing down around you.
A good story but very sad.
After reading this short story. I have to realize that..
After reading this short story. I have to realize that maybe what the author was trying to point out was that there is a littk of Miss Brill in all of us. If you think about it there will always be someone smarter, more interesting and younger snickering of you, and honestly when we return to our comfort zone we led out tears, fustrations, anger. Maybe we know within ourselves for the snickering to be true. After reading the comments by everyone, I decided to read the story twice and that is why I have concluded. she was not only lonely, I really think that she was old but a sane person. please be true to yourself.
It may seem that the theme of the story is a depressing..
It may seem that the theme of the story is a depressing one. It is; not especially about Miss Brill, but about the lack of character causing the destruction of oneself and others.
This story ties in to the poem "I wondered Lonely As A Cloud". There is a lack of appreciation for life and lack of self-awareness that leads to a sad ending.Criticising people who have found their place also is bad as we see that it affects a structured view of oneself.
The scene of the girls in red, the donkeys, etc, tends to be the end of these people. Like the throwing away of the violets, these people are miserable in their scenario because they feel thrown away. But they do play a bigger part in life as Miss Brill points out. They are in a larger sequence of things and are valuable to others
it is a difficult one to analyze.
I have read this story before, and it always amazes me how..
I have read this story before, and it always amazes me how subtle KM is, and how beautifully crafted her work can be. This is one of my favorites, and I love the way she develops the main character. Miss Brill is happy as she dons her fur and walks to the park. the fur is her friend, helps her to feel elegant, a part of things, though it is clear that she is more of an observer than anything else. She even thinks of her seat as her own, calling it her "special" seat. And when KM adds that Miss Brill liked to listen as though she wasnt listening at all, this sentence is purely dedicated to portraying how lonely Miss Brill really is, especially when she comes into contact with "The Brute!" She then goes on to describe her surroundings as a play. This is when you start to really pity her. She calls herself an actress, and in part, she kind of is, because shes denying who she really is. That is, until the boy and girl come. Miss Brill is told the truth when they mock her, and realizes who she really is. Even her fur sounds as though its crying.
In the short story "Miss Brill," penned by Katherine..
In the short story "Miss Brill," penned by Katherine Mansfield in 1922, a Sunday afternoon is spent with an elderly woman during her weekly ritual of visiting a seaside park. The woman, Miss Brill, enjoys her habitual outing to hear the band play and soak in the atmosphere, but most of all she relishes the chance to sit in on the lives of others by listening and watching. Mansfields "Miss Brill" illustrates the old womans attempt to alleviate loneliness by creating an alternate reality for herself, yet she is ultimately forced to face the self-deception for what it truly is.{2}
Miss Brills ritual of visiting the park every Sunday helps her to cope with loneliness.{3} It is clear how much enjoyment the old woman derives from the simple activity as the narrator states, "Oh, how fascinating it was! How she enjoyed it! How she loved sitting [t]here, watching it all!" The weekly outing provides an opportunity for Miss Brill to place herself in the company of others and to leave behind "the little dark room" in which she lives. Miss Brill employs the tactics of listening and watching to passively include herself in the activities of the park crowd. She is expert at "sitting in other peoples lives for just a minute" by eavesdropping. This habit of "listening as though she didnt listen" helps her to feel included. Being an avid people watcher, Miss Brill pays rapt attention to those who surround her. By the same care she takes in noticing others, she hopes that "no doubt somebody would have noticed if she hadnt been there" in attendance. This thought allows her to feel a sense of community with the strangers at the park. Miss Brill seizes every opportunity she can to imagine herself as having some connection with the individuals she observes in attempt to garner a sense of belonging. She even likens herself to being a part of the "family" that the band plays to. In effect, the weekly outing provides a means to escape the isolation felt in her solitary existence for a period of time by engaging herself in the happenings at the park. However, as Miss Brill observes and listens, she prefers to view her world through a proverbial set of rose colored glasses to protect herself from confronting the truth of her lonely existence.{4}
Miss Brill alters her perception of reality to avoid facing unpleasant aspects of her life.{5} The first example of this is noted as she settles in on her "special" bench at the park and touches the fur stole surrounding her neck, and she is comforted by the furs presence. She thinks of the pelt as more of a companionable pet as she considers that "she could have taken it off and laid it on her lap and stroked it." Ignoring reality, character and personality are imagined into the lifeless fur as she affectionately refers to the accessory as the "little rogue!" Another indication that Miss Brill skews her reality is seen in her perception of others versus herself. While spectating, Miss Brill observes the other elderly bench sitters who share the same ritual in coming to the park every Sunday to watch and listen. She does not recognize herself as being in the same category when she notices that the others "were odd, silent, nearly all old, and from the way they stared they looked as though theyd just come from dark little rooms." She refuses to see her own reflection in this mirror of elderly loners. In the same way, Miss Brill twists her perception as she begins to fancy herself being an "actress." The park setting becomes a stage, the band orchestrates interactions, and the crowd becomes the cast for the scene she imagines as being "exactly like a play." In using this method, she provides herself with a sense of inclusion, importance, and connection to the strangers that surround her. The idea of playing "a part" in the park "performance" allows her to fool herself into believing she has a purpose within the crowd. Unwittingly, she has set herself up to be confronted by the reality of her situation.{6}
A series of events leads to Miss Brills illusion being shattered and forces her to realize the self-deception.{7} As she watches on, Miss Brill strongly identifies with an elderly lady in a fur hat who is met by a gentleman. This second woman is thrilled at the chance for company and "was so pleased to see him-delighted!" The man veritably ignores the womans excited chattering and even goes to the point of being rude. Having lit a cigarette, he "slowly breathed a great deep puff into her face, and even while she was still talking and laughing, flicked the match away and walked on." Miss Brill deeply empathizes with this woman as she transfers the humiliation and pain vicariously felt into the bands music that plays in the background. Miss Brill watches the womans reaction and imagines that "even the band seemed to know what she was feeling and played more softly, played tenderly." Upon witnessing this scene, Miss Brill places herself into her "actress" mode to avoid vulnerability. In doing so, she is able to delude herself into believing that she is safely distanced from suffering the same hurt as the woman in the fur hat. This coping mechanism allows her to comfortably resume watching and listening, but she has also unknowingly set herself up to be emotionally wounded by a young couple that seat beside her. The young man refers to Miss Brill as "that stupid old thing" in his conversation with his girlfriend. He continues, knowing fully well Miss Brill is listening, by questioning, "Why does she come here at all-who wants her? Why doesnt she keep her silly old mug at home?" In an instant, the protective fortress of self-deception{8} that Miss Brill has carefully constructed comes crashing down around her. She is forced to realize that she is not an integral or important part of the crowd that surrounds her, regardless of what she has chosen to imagine.{9}
Disheartened{10}, Miss Brill leaves the park to return to her "room like a cupboard." She does not even feel worthy enough to treat herself to the usual slice of honeycake purchased from the bakers on her way home. Although Miss Brills attempts to skew reality serve a purpose for her in helping her to cope with the unpleasant reality of her circumstances, her system is not infallible. Miss Brill is able to deceive herself for a time into avoiding the fact of her loneliness by reframing her thoughts into perceptions that are less overwhelming to her, but she ultimately faces the cruel consequence of this tactic as she is forced to touch base with reality as a result of the insensitive remarks of the young man.
-Azer
this is a short story about an elderly,lovely and forlom..
this is a short story about an elderly,lovely and forlom school teacher who passed her sunday chessing visiting the only public garden which had beautifulrotunda whichwasused by a few musicians who enterned one and all with enchating music.
people from all walks of life visited this park,and it was a very hospitable atmosphere but glory with they are also snobs etc this made her feel not wanted any more to start with the elderly couple next to her acted if she did not exist,the other brighty dressed couple laughed and joyed with each other this increased hersadness,when all of a sudden a young couple,jumpedout the hedge they were hiding in and started worrying the old lady to such an extent,that she could do nothing but leave the pastime ,this made her still more sud,and as usual an her homeward journey ,she used to pich up a slice of eake,and in her chance,she got a bit of almond inher slice,she consedred herself very lucling the main these of this is that a everybody has to grow old some day,would you like to go through the same life this gentle women was living or would you like to change the whole system
IT SEEMS MS. BRILL IS COMPLETELY LONELY. SHE ALWAYS GOES TO..
IT SEEMS MS. BRILL IS COMPLETELY LONELY. SHE ALWAYS GOES TO THE PARK AND WATCHES OTHER POEOPLES BEHAVIOR.
IN ORDER TO SOLVE HIS LONELINESS, SHE REGARDS PEOPLE IN THE PARK AS HER FAMILY. BUT UNFORTUNATELY WHEN SHE HEARS THE YOUNG COUPLES CONVERSATION, SHE UNDERSTAND OTHER PEOPLES VIEW TO HER EVENTUALLY. THEIR DIALOGUE SHATTERS MISS BRILLS ILLUSION.
poeple say this story is not good or rushed or..
poeple say this story is not good or rushed or whatever...just because they hasnt read it thoroughly.. this is a very pleasant and meaningful story about a self deceptive old woman who really needs a sense of belonging to a community, to a group of people. she constantly watches and eavesdrops to "sit in other peoples lives just for a minute"
this is a very stRong story about all of us ..
this story is absolutely tells that man is lonely in this..
this story is absolutely tells that man is lonely in this world of people .
"I went to the park and sat on a bench. It was day time. ..
"I went to the park and sat on a bench. It was day time. There were clouds in the sky. People were there. They did things. Some kids said something to me. I went home."
There! That has little description. Doesnt really make an interesting story, though. I prefer Mansfields rendition.
Now to the person who wrote the following comment, although I enjoy Mansifelds writing, I caught the greater wave of emotion from reading your thoughts on this story. You trully moved me. I dont believe anyone could have put it better than you did. You really should be a writer if youre not already. You must have some beautiful insight into some complex emotions.
["This is a story about how time moves on, and most of us never really realize how we are "behind the times" until someone tactless (like the young folks here) awakens us. As I read the comments made by teenagers who seem to turn up their nose at this story, I think "Theyll learn--we all did". I, too, was once a teenager, who saw old people as nothing but frumpy, boring, slowpokes always in the way and hopelessly out of touch with anything "cool". But, as I age (I am in my 40s now), I, too, begin to feel that I am out of touch with todays young people, and I am sure that some of the things (music, books, tastes) I enjoy from my past, such as this womans fur, would be ridiculuosly outdated [and] laughable to a newer generation. But they, too, will be old one day, and know the sadness of a lost time."]
After Reading this short story at college. My english..
After Reading this short story at college. My english teacher prdicted that soon Ms Brill will Die.. and the fox reprsents her life comming to an end. Does anyone else agree? Isthere evidence for thsi in the story?? This story is obviously told in a thrid person format but i feel like Ms Brill is accually telling the story =) xxxx
I think this story is absolutely beautiful! for those who..
I think this story is absolutely beautiful! for those
who left the comments saying that the description
was too much,let me explain. KM developed Miss
Brill as a woman who viewed the world as a stage-
a show. And with this show came amazing and
almost enchanting music. In order to allow the
reader to realize that this is indeed how life can
seem, she writes the story as if it were a song.
Mansfield starts with simple images and pretty
words, and slowly, the "music" builds to more and
more detail;it becomes even more intense, and then
slowly fades out to a melancholy and quite frankly,
eerie and tearful, ending.
As for the symbolism of the story, it was genius!
Not only the fur, but the seats, the park, the
weather, the people, and the title and name of the
character herself! This was an incredible story that
I will probably, and hopefully, never forget.
i like the story... its intresting for me that i got..
i like the story... its intresting for me that i got sumthing new in it... goood one!
This story is about a lonely, eccentric woman. The fur..
This story is about a lonely, eccentric woman. The fur symbolizes her spirit and is like a costume. when she puts it on then she enters another world where there is a play and shes the main character of it. She listens to other peoples convos until she is disturbed by a young couple!
sad ending
--- Dominika
This story is a sad and beautiful peice about an old woman..
This story is a sad and beautiful peice about an old woman deluding herself into thinking she is still an important part of society or "the play". Mrs Brill uses her weekly outings to the park to cope with her overwhelming lonliness. When her reality is shattered by the two teens she realizes she also falls into the category of "odd, silent, nearly all old, and from the way they stared they looked as though theyd just come from dark little rooms" as she had scornfully dubbed other seniors in the park.
Being a teenager myself, I feel somewhat offended when I read stereotypical comments from people who take the message from this story to be "avoid teenager" instead of looking for a deeper meaning.
This is the most meaningless story ever written.
This is the most meaningless story ever written.
I love this story it is very cute!
I love this story it is very cute!
I first read this story when I was 17. It made me cry, but..
I first read this story when I was 17. It made me cry, but for some reason, I felt like this was a story I should keep, so I put it away in my room, in a drawer with other keepsakes. I moved away from home at 23, and over the years, Ive thought of Miss Brill. Today, 12 years later, after searching for a while, I finally found the story. It made me cry again. Poor Miss Brill. I hope nobody ever makes my grandma feel that way.
Miss Brill is an old women who suffers from endless..
Miss Brill is an old women who suffers from endless loneliness in which she visits the French park, "Jardins Publiques", routinely every Sunday. The vivid and brilliant imagery throughout the story illustrates Miss Brills awareness and insight of the "play" she observes. Miss Brills fur is a stuffed rodent to which she places around her neck for warmth symbolizing and personifying herself. The consistent imagery and routine matter of the story comes to a shift when two teenagers, whom Miss Brill has bestowed the utmost love and respect to (as she has to all the "characters" in the play), redicule and mock Miss Brills very existence. With the cruel comments Miss Brill overhears comes a realization to both her and the reader. "They were odd, silent, nearly all old" Miss Brill explains through her observation which is ironic because she herself is in fact odd, silent and old. Irony is also expressed through Miss Brills notion that "theyd just come from dark little rooms" paralleling Miss Brills "room like a cupboard". As a result Miss Brill is deeply crushed and quickly places her fur back under the bed when she then hears "something crying". The "something" crying is the fur proving that this fur is indeed Miss Brill herself because she is crying on the inside, for her greatest joy in life has dissipated.
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