Three: 'Her First Ball' by Katherine Mansfield

Katherine Mansfield

(1888-1923)

NEW ZEALAND/ ENGLAND

Born near Wellington, New Zealand, Katherine Mansfield Beauchamp left home early to study the cello in England, but turned to writing instead. She chose to pursue her life as a writer in London with the help of small allowance from her father. Mansfield's first collection of stories In a German Pension, was published in 1911. Mansfield wrote 88 stories of which 26 were unfinished. Many of her stories hold a lasting place in twentieth-century fiction because of her influential innovations in form. Like her model, Chekov, Mansfield reduced the significance of the plot, instead emphasizing moments of emotional discovery and epiphany that directly revealed her character's inner lives.

Her First Ball

Exactly when the ball began Leila would have found it hard to say. Perhaps her first real partner was the cab. It did not matter that she shared the cab with the Sheridan girls and their brother. She sat back in her own little corner of it, and the bolster on which her hand rested felt like the sleeve of an unknown young man's dress suit; and away they bowled, past waltzing lamp-posts and houses and fences and trees.

"Have you really never been to a ball before, Leila? But, my child, how too weird–" cried the Sheridan girls.

"Our nearest neighbour was fifteen miles," said Leila softly, gently opening and shutting her fan.

Oh dear, how hard it was to be indifferent like the others! She tried not to smile too much; she tried not to care. But every single thing was so new and exciting . . . Meg's tuberoses, Jose's long loop of amber, Laura's little dark head, pushing above her white fur like a flower through snow. She would remember for ever. It even gave her a pang to see her cousin Laurie throw away the wisps of tissue paper he pulled from the fastenings of his new gloves. She would like to have kept those wisps as a keepsake, as a remembrance. Laurie leaned forward and put his hand on Laura's knee.

"Look here, darling," he said. "The third and the ninth as usual. Twig?"

Oh, how marvellous to have a brother! In her excitement Leila felt that if there had been time, if it hadn't been impossible, she couldn't have helped crying because she was an only child and no brother had ever said "Twig?" to her; no sister would ever say, as Meg said to Jose that moment, "I've never known your hair go up more successfully than it has to-night!"

But, of course, there was no time. They were at the drill hall already; there were cabs in front of them and cabs behind. The road was bright on either side with moving fan-like lights, and on the pavement gay couples seemed to float through the air; little satin shoes chased each other like birds.

"Hold on to me, Leila; you'll get lost," said Laura.

"Come on, girls, let's make a dash for it," said Laurie.

Leila put two fingers on Laura's pink velvet cloak, and they were somehow lifted past the big golden lantern, carried along the passage, and pushed into the little room marked "Ladies." Here the crowd was so great there was hardly space to take off their things; the noise was deafening. Two benches on either side were stacked high with wraps. Two old women in white aprons ran up and down tossing fresh armfuls. And everybody was pressing forward trying to get at the little dressing-table and mirror at the far end.

A great quivering jet of gas lighted the ladies' room. It couldn't wait; it was dancing already. When the door opened again and there came a burst of tuning from the drill hall, it leaped almost to the ceiling.

Dark girls, fair girls were patting their hair, tying ribbons again, tucking handkerchiefs down the fronts of their bodices, smoothing marble-white gloves. And because they were all laughing it seemed to Leila that they were all lovely.

"Aren't there any invisible hair-pins?" cried a voice. "How most extraordinary! I can't see a single invisible hair-pin."

"Powder my back, there's a darling," cried some one else.

"But I must have a needle and cotton. I've torn simply miles and miles of the frill," wailed a third.

Then, "Pass them along, pass them along!" The straw basket of programmes was tossed from arm to arm. Darling little pink-and-silver programmes, with pink pencils and fluffy tassels. Leila's fingers shook as she took one out of the basket. She wanted to ask someone, "Am I meant to have one too?" but she had just time to read: "Waltz 3. Two, Two in a Canoe. Polka 4. Making the Feathers Fly," when Meg cried, "Ready, Leila?" and they pressed their way through the crush in the passage towards the big double doors of the drill hall.

Dancing had not begun yet, but the band had stopped tuning, and the noise was so great it seemed that when it did begin to play it would never be heard. Leila, pressing close to Meg, looking over Meg's shoulder, felt that even the little quivering coloured flags strung across the ceiling were talking. She quite forgot to be shy; she forgot how in the middle of dressing she had sat down on the bed with one shoe off and one shoe on and begged her mother to ring up her cousins and say she couldn't go after all. And the rush of longing she had had to be sitting on the veranda of their forsaken up-country home, listening to the baby owls crying "More pork" in the moonlight, was changed to a rush of joy so sweet that it was hard to bear alone. She clutched her fan, and, gazing at the gleaming, golden floor, the azaleas, the lanterns, the stage at one end with its red carpet and gilt chairs and the band in a corner, she thought breathlessly, "How heavenly; how simply heavenly!"

All the girls stood grouped together at one side of the doors, the men at the other, and the chaperones in dark dresses, smiling rather foolishly, walked with little careful steps over the polished floor towards the stage.

"This is my little country cousin Leila. Be nice to her. Find her partners; she's under my wing," said Meg, going up to one girl after another.

Strange faces smiled at Leila–sweetly, vaguely. Strange voices answered, "Of course, my dear." But Leila felt the girls didn't really see her. They were looking towards the men. Why didn't the men begin? What were they waiting for? There they stood, smoothing their gloves, patting their glossy hair and smiling among themselves. Then, quite suddenly, as if they had only just made up their minds that that was what they had to do, the men came gliding over the parquet. There was a joyful flutter among the girls. A tall, fair man flew up to Meg, seized her programme, scribbled something; Meg passed him on to Leila. "May I have the pleasure?" He ducked and smiled. There came a dark man wearing an eyeglass, then cousin Laurie with a friend, and Laura with a little freckled fellow whose tie was crooked. Then quite an old man–fat, with a big bald patch on his head–took her programme and murmured, "Let me see, let me see!" And he was a long time comparing his programme, which looked black with names, with hers. It seemed to give him so much trouble that Leila was ashamed. "Oh, please don't bother," she said eagerly. But instead of replying the fat man wrote something, glanced at her again. "Do I remember this bright little face?" he said softly. "Is it known to me of yore?" At that moment the band began playing; the fat man disappeared. He was tossed away on a great wave of music that came flying over the gleaming floor, breaking the groups up into couples, scattering them, sending them spinning. . . .

Leila had learned to dance at boarding school. Every Saturday afternoon the boarders were hurried off to a little corrugated iron mission hall where Miss Eccles (of London) held her "select" classes. But the difference between that dusty-smelling hall–with calico texts on the walls, the poor, terrified little woman in a brown velvet toque with rabbit's ears thumping the cold piano, Miss Eccles poking the girls' feet with her long white wand–and this was so tremendous that Leila was sure if her partner didn't come and she had to listen to that marvellous music and to watch the others sliding, gliding over the golden floor, she would die at least, or faint, or lift her arms and fly out of one of those dark windows that showed the stars.

"Ours, I think–" Someone bowed, smiled, and offered her his arm; she hadn't to die after all. Someone's hand pressed her waist, and she floated away like a flower that is tossed into a pool.

"Quite a good floor, isn't it?" drawled a faint voice close to her ear.

"I think it's most beautifully slippery," said Leila.

"Pardon!" The faint voice sounded surprised. Leila said it again. And there was a tiny pause before the voice echoed, "Oh, quite!" and she was swung round again.

He steered so beautifully. That was the great difference between dancing with girls and men, Leila decided. Girls banged into each other and stamped on each other's feet; the girl who was gentleman always clutched you so.

The azaleas were separate flowers no longer; they were pink and white flags streaming by.

"Were you at the Bells' last week?" the voice came again. It sounded tired. Leila wondered whether she ought to ask him if he would like to stop.

"No, this is my first dance," said she.

Her partner gave a little gasping laugh. "Oh, I say," he protested.

"Yes, it is really the first dance I've ever been to." Leila was most fervent. It was such a relief to be able to tell somebody. "You see, I've lived in the country all my life up till now. . . . "

At that moment the music stopped and they went to sit on two chairs against the wall. Leila tucked her pink satin feet under and fanned herself, while she blissfully watched the other couples passing and disappearing through the swing doors.

"Enjoying yourself, Leila?" asked Jose, nodding her golden head.

Laura passed and gave her the faintest little wink; it made Leila wonder for a moment whether she was quite grown up after all. Certainly her partner did not say very much. He coughed, tucked his handkerchief away, pulled down his waistcoat, took a minute thread off his sleeve. But it didn't matter. Almost immediately the band started and her second partner seemed to spring from the ceiling.

"Floor's not bad," said the new voice. Did one always begin with the floor? And then, "Were you at the Neaves' on Tuesday?" And again Leila explained. Perhaps it was a little strange that her partners were not more interested. For it was thrilling. Her first ball! She was only at the beginning of everything. It seemed to her that she had never known what the night was like before. Up till now it had been dark, silent, beautiful very often–oh yes–but mournful somehow. Solemn. And now it would never be like that again–it had opened dazzling bright.

"Care for an ice?" said her partner. And they went through the swing doors, down the passage, to the supper-room. Her cheeks burned, she was fearfully thirsty. How sweet the ices looked on little glass plates and how cold the frosted spoon was, iced too! And when they came back to the hall there was the fat man waiting for her by the door. It gave her quite a shock again to see how old he was; he ought to have been on the stage with the fathers and mothers. And when Leila compared him with her other partners he looked shabby. His waistcoat was creased, there was a button off his glove, his coat looked as if it was dusty with French chalk.

"Come along, little lady," said the fat man. He scarcely troubled to clasp her, and they moved away so gently, it was more like walking than dancing. But he said not a word about the floor. "Your first dance, isn't it?" he murmured.

"How did you know?"

"Ah," said the fat man, "that's what it is to be old!" He wheezed faintly as he steered her past an awkward couple. "You see, I've been doing this kind of thing for the last thirty years."

"Thirty years?" cried Leila. Twelve years before she was born!

"It hardly bears thinking about, does it?" said the fat man gloomily. Leila looked at his bald head, and she felt quite sorry for him.

"I think it's marvellous to be still going on," she said kindly.

"Kind little lady," said the fat man, and he pressed her a little closer and hummed a bar of the waltz. "Of course," he said, "you can't hope to last anything like as long as that. No-o," said the fat man, "long before that you'll be sitting up there on the stage, looking on, in your nice black velvet. And these pretty arms will have turned into little short fat ones, and you'll beat time with such a different kind of fan–a black bony one." The fat man seemed to shudder. "And you'll smile away like the poor old dears up there, and point to your daughter, and tell the elderly lady next to you how some dreadful man tried to kiss her at the club ball. And your heart will ache, ache"–the fat man squeezed her closer still, as if he really was sorry for that poor heart–"because no one wants to kiss you now. And you'll say how unpleasant these polished floors are to walk on, how dangerous they are. Eh, Mademoiselle Twinkletoes?" said the fat man softly.

Leila gave a light little laugh, but she did not feel like laughing. Was it–could it all be true? It sounded terribly true. Was this first ball only the beginning of her last ball, after all? At that the music seemed to change; it sounded sad, sad; it rose upon a great sigh. Oh, how quickly things changed! Why didn't happiness last for ever? For ever wasn't a bit too long.

"I want to stop," she said in a breathless voice. The fat man led her to the door.

"No," she said, "I won't go outside. I won't sit down. I'll just stand here, thank you." She leaned against the wall, tapping with her foot, pulling up her gloves and trying to smile. But deep inside her a little girl threw her pinafore over her head and sobbed. Why had he spoiled it all?

"I say, you know," said the fat man, "you mustn't take me seriously, little lady."

"As if I should!" said Leila, tossing her small dark head and sucking her underlip. . . .

Again the couples paraded. The swing doors opened and shut. Now new music was given out by the bandmaster. But Leila didn't want to dance any more. She wanted to be home, or sitting on the veranda listening to those baby owls. When she looked through the dark windows at the stars they had long beams like wings. . . .

But presently a soft, melting, ravishing tune began, and a young man with curly hair bowed before her. She would have to dance, out of politeness, until she could find Meg. Very stiffly she walked into the middle; very haughtily she put her hand on his sleeve. But in one minute, in one turn, her feet glided, glided. The lights, the azaleas, the dresses, the pink faces, the velvet chairs, all became one beautiful flying wheel. And when her next partner bumped her into the fat man and he said, "Pardon," she smiled at him more radiantly than ever. She didn't even recognize him again.

[1922]

NOTES

Meanings of Difficult Words:

1. Bolster: A long thick pillow or support.
2. Pang: pain.
3. Tuberoses: white, lily-like flowers.
4. Third and the ninth: Laurie wants his sister Laura to reserve the third and ninth dance for him.
5. Twig: a slang term popular in 1920's meaning 'to understand.'
6. Programs: At one time dancers at formal balls carried small programs that not only contained a printed list of the dances but provided space to write the names of one's partners for those dances.
7. Bodice: the part of a woman's dress (excluding sleeves) above the waist.
8. Toque: a close fitting hat without a brim.
9. Azalea: a flowering shrub with brightly coloured flowers.
10. Gilt: golden.
11. Chaperones: older woman incharge of a young woman on social occasions.
12. Parquet: wooden blocks arranged in a pattern to make up the floor.
13. Corrugated: shaped into alternate ridges and grooves.
14. Pinafore: a woman's loose sleeveless apron-like garment worn over clothes.

Few Important Lines:

1. For it was thrilling. Her first ball! She was only at the beginning of everything. It seemed to her that she had never known what the night was like before. Up till now it had been dark, silent, beautiful very often–oh yes–but mournful somehow. Solemn. And now it would never be like that again–it had opened dazzling bright.
2. Leila gave a light little laugh, but she did not feel like laughing. Was it–could it all be true? It sounded terribly true. Was this first ball only the beginning of her last ball, after all? At that the music seemed to change; it sounded sad, sad; it rose upon a great sigh. Oh, how quickly things changed! Why didn't happiness last for ever? For ever wasn't a bit too long.
3. And when her next partner bumped her into the fat man and he said, "Pardon," she smiled at him more radiantly than ever. She didn't even recognize him again.

Important Points:

Leila is extremely excited to be attending a ball for the first time and her excitement is reflected on her surroundings. Her perceptions shape everything to be exaggerated to heights of fantasy. She sees everything differently through her eyes. There is tons of hyperbole and exaggeration in the story regarding the environment. However, the dramatic irony of the story is that everything will not happen the way Leila is imagining before the beginning of the ball. Leila's expectations have heightened before her arrival at the hall and they are full of fantasy and imagination. She is attaching a romantic feeling with every trivial scene she sees, she is almost numb and ecstatic with excitement. Even the most petty detail of the story is boosted up through exaggeration when seen through Leila's eyes.

The crux of the story comes when the fat bald man comes to Leila and reveals a reality to her that changes her mood. Excitement is like a bubble, if someone pricks it you can always inflate it and go on with your lives. Mood changes quickly according to situations.

Leila is different from her city cousins as she lives far away in the country, she is an only child therefore she is ignorant of the joys of having siblings, and she has never been to the ball before. These things help to shape her perceptions. It is a primitive faculty of humans that they are surprised and excited by new things or unfamiliar situations. The same is the case with Leila, she has never had the experience of having siblings therefore the interaction of Laurie and Laura fascinate her so much that she is almost driven to tears. Living in the country and unfamiliar with the dazzle of city life also helped to exaggerate her thinking process about her first trip to a ball with her cousins. Every new thing she saw surprised her and she started to view it as a fantasy.

Everything seems like a fantasy and a thing of beauty when you are happy. Your mood greatly influences your way of looking at things.

There are two terms that can be associated with the interpretation of the story: objective correlative which means something (as a situation or chain of events) that symbolizes or objectifies a particular emotion and that may be used to evoke a desired emotional response in the reader; affective fallacy which means supposed error of judging or evaluating a text on the basis of its emotional effects on a reader.

Whatever your mood is, the same way your environment will feel like. Feelings start to be projected in the outside world and external environment.

The ambience of the story is happy, cheerful and full of excitement, the reader feels as if something good is about to happen.

The mood of the story is very important to note. In the exposition, everything is beautiful, expectations are high, there is anticipation and the language is setting a mood of fantasy and giving everything a magical touch, there is much attractiveness in everything.

The fat old man says that everything is not everlasting or perpetual. There is transience and a fleeting quality in everything. When one becomes old one will not remain a part of the happy environment of the ball and one will begin to criticize or mock these activities instead.

Time is relative. When something good is happening, you feel as if you are going through a good time in your life. Time becomes different for us when the circumstances change. Similarly, for Leila the ball was the best time of her life until her interaction with the old man.

For the old man his life had become monotonous and mundane. It had become a drudgery for him as he was responsible for the same work day in and day out. When a person experiences the same thing over and over again it loses its thrill and interest. The element of surprise vanishes.

Leila soon forgot what the old man said. It is human nature to forget the sadness and moments of sorrow. One always wishes to exclude the sad and boring moments from the memory and live life to its fullest.

There is also some minor themes of happines vs. sadness, old age vs. youth and the effect of mood on people.

Short story writers frequently focus on a single character in a single episode, and rather than tracing his development, reveals him at a particular moment, often in a particular place. This moment is frequently one in which the character undergoes some important change in attitude or understanding, Leila in Her first Ball realizes that all things in life come to an end. An important literary term that can be associated with the story is that of 'Anagnorisis' which means a critical moment of recognition or discovery. A relative term in this case if that of Epiphany which means a sudden moment of realization of truth. Leila was exited before the ball but her encounter with the old man showed her an ugly picture of life, a contrasting view. But she learns a very valuable lesson and realizes a truth about life. This was her moment of epiphany. She became a different person after this, she never forgot to enjoy life, but she had a greater understanding of life that happiness does not last forever and one has to live life in every second while it lasts. Leila gained a bit of maturity when she understood the words of the old man and her immature ideas that existed previously left her.

With regard to this, there is a sense of fantasy vs. reality in the story. Fantasy turns into reality after a moment of epiphany. Leila's initial and final moods are crucial, yet they are understandable and human in their own way. There is nothing wrong with a young woman weaving fantasy in her lively mood, and there is certainly nothing wrong with a sensible maturity added to a happy mood.

The old man is a very important character in the story. On the surface he appears to be a mallicious and a cruel, cynical old man who was only seeking to ruin a young girl's night. But on further reflection, it seems as if he was only thinking aloud and he was not willfully ruining Leila's mood. He did not seem to care about Leila's feelings. He could be seen as a wise old man who sought to teach Leila a lesson about life. He is tactful, however, since he told her not to take him seriously. He simply wanted to protect her from a sudden or heartbreaking disillusionment as life is cruel and a day-dreamer like Leila could get hurt badly.

The narrative technique of the story is third-person narrative by the author. It follows a typical way of telling a story. But the whole perspective of the story would change if Leila was the narrator.

Mansfield's story is rich in imagery, to experience the full meaning of Her First Ball; the reader must project himself into the images created by Katherine Mansfield. This means he must follow the sequence of images and perceive the accuracy of each image and the impression it makes on Leila or, better than it, perceive how Leila project her feelings and perceptions to the described images. For instance, when Leila is taking the cab and first experiencing going out to a ball the cab is described as her first partner, because it was all part of the ball, every little detail was a part of her first big dance and she wanted to experience it all: "Perhaps her first real partner was the cab. It did not matter that she shared the cab with the Sheridan girls and their brother." The same happens with other images, in a growing and progressive dazzling, the beauty of the scenery increases with her happiness.

Main Themes:

• Loss of innocence
• Appearance vs. reality
• Naivety
• Sadness
• Excitement
• Love

Questions:

1. Trace the various moods Leila goes through in this story. Given Leila's background, are they all believable? Explain.
2. How is Leila different from her city cousins? How are these differences important to the story?
3. What are Leila's feelings about the ball? Do they change during the evening?
4. What role does the fat man play in Leila's perceptions of the ball? How does Leila respond to his cynical observations?
   Credit-Muneeza Rafiq