
Wealthy Mrs. Warden calls on her friend Mrs. Abel, interrupting Mrs. Abel's efforts to design a new street dress from patterns in "The Bazaar." Mrs. Warden announces that she has refused her husband's suggestion to order a costly silk gown from Madame Labiche, declaring that the rich cannot spend so freely with a good conscience while so many families in the city suffer dire poverty. She lectures Mrs. Abel on guarding against inequality and personal responsibility to one's own conscience, casting visible disapproval on the cloth spread over the table. She explains that she is on her way to see the poorest quarter of the city for herself, having deliberately avoided asking the police or the Superintendent of the Poor for reports, preferring to form her own judgment. The two friends part on a cooler note than usual, and Mrs. Abel, unsettled and envious despite herself, dismisses her seamstress. Mrs. Warden's correct, impassive coachman drives her elegant trap into the narrowing streets of the poor quarter until the way becomes nearly impassable; street urchins jeer and dare him to kill the horses, but he manages the horses and the tight turns with unshaken composure. Mrs. Warden, determined to see the worst, questions a girl at a doorway who answers rudely and vanishes. She enters a squalid, airless room where a woman clears clothing from a seat for her. The woman shows a bold manner and an unpleasant smile that unsettle Mrs. Warden, who nonetheless begins to feel sympathy as the woman describes her hardships. There are two children — a lame boy of four or five lying on the floor after scarlet fever, and a thin, undersized thirteen-month-old baby — along with a sick-looking man on a straw bed, nursing a supposed toothache, and a young girl sitting silently in a corner with concealed work in her lap. Mrs. Warden offers sympathy and vague advice about strengthening foods and a wheeled chair, then reaches for her purse to give money, only to find it missing — she recalls leaving it in the trap. At that moment a well-dressed stranger enters, introducing himself as the Superintendent of the Poor for the district, and returns her monogrammed purse, saying he retrieved it from a girl who had stolen it. His arrival instantly transforms the household: the man sits up glaring, the woman's face turns hateful, and the lame child bristles "like a wild animal." The Superintendent needles the man, called Martin, about trouble the previous night and predicts he will get two months in prison. A furious, chaotic quarrel erupts among the family members. Shaken, Mrs. Warden leaves with the Superintendent, who explains as they walk that well-intentioned charity often goes to waste but that good-heartedness is still admirable. He reveals that the woman has been "a very bad — public character," that the young girl is in a similarly disgraceful condition, and that the sick man is not to be pitied either, delivering the last revelations in murmurs and whispers that leave Mrs. Warden faint and horrified — she is especially undone at having spoken with such a woman "about children." The coachman, having outwitted the taunting street boys by threading the trap through a narrow space with precise skill, collects her, and she asks the Superintendent to call on her the next day before being driven home, the carriage moving more smoothly and swiftly as it leaves the slum behind, the coachman cracking his whip three times as they near the residential district. On the ride home Mrs. Warden reflects on how such "degenerate people" could never rise to intelligence or resist temptation, and recalls how she herself resisted the temptation of wealth just two days earlier by refusing her husband's proposal to hire an English groom, insisting she can get in and out of the carriage unaided and must guard against pride. Back at the Abel house, she recounts the visit to Mrs. Abel, who is so distressed by the account of the young girl's condition that she needs a glass of port wine, served in cut crystal. The two women agree that even heathens without any conscience could not behave so badly, and that such conduct reflects well on those who follow the church's teachings. Reassured and satisfied, Mrs. Warden climbs back into her trap and instructs the coachman to take her to Madame Labiche's after all, declaring that she can now order the silk dress with a clear conscience.
By Alexander L. Kielland · First published 1921 · Genre: Satire, Social Commentary, Psychological Fiction · 3,854 words
In front of the garden gate of the villa of Lawyer Abel a small, / elegant trap drew up, to which two handsome, well groomed horses were / attached.
Upon the harness was neither silver nor any shining metal; it was dull / black, and even the buckles were covered with leather. The shining / wood of the trap showed just a trace of dark green in its color. The / upholstery was a dark and modest grey, and only when one examined it / closely, did one discover that it was made of heavy silk. The coachman / was as correct as an English coachman; all in black, the coat tightly / buttoned, showing a space of white at the neck.
The Point of View is listed on Textopian as a short story by Alexander L. Kielland, dated 1921 CE.
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Norwegian literature · 19th century fiction · social realism · character study · moral exploration · psychological realism · philosophical themes · critique of society · human relationships · personal perspective · introspection · domestic life