Mary E. Wilkins Freeman "The Revolt of 'Mother'"


September 11, 2014

Freeman's ironic story,"The Revolt of 'Mother'" contains two very strong-willed characters: Mother and Father. Of course, in 1890 when the story was written, women were encouraged to mindful to their husbands, quiet, courteous, humble. They were to let their husbands speak for them and ultimately make choices for them, choices made by the husband and father for the better good of the entire family. 

In this story, Father and Mother both make very strong choices. Only one character, however, has has to accept the undesirable consequence. 

From the beginning of the story, Mother pleads with Father to tell her why men are digging in their field. Father's choice is to not tell his wife about his plans. 
"I want to know what them men are diggin' over there in that filed for."
"They're diggin' a cellar, I s'pose, if you've got to know."
"A cellar for what?"
"A barn."
"A barn? You ain't goin' to build a barn over there where we was goin' to have a house, father?"
 Mother is disappointed that Father is building another barn.
"...the digging of the cellar of the new barn in the place where Adoniram forty years ago had promised her their new house should stand."
Father (Adoniram) has made his choice to build a barn instead of a house for his wife.

Mother speaks up for herself which was unlike women during this time to be self-assertive.
"I want to know if you think you're doin' right an' accordin' to what you profess. Here, when we was married, forty year ago, you promised me faithful that we should have a new house built in that lot over in the field before the year was out. You said you had money enough, an' you wouldn't ask me to live in no such place as this."
Which Father responds:
"I ain't got nothin' to say."
Father knows that he is making the choice of breaking a promise. He made the choice of making the promise forty years earlier. He made the choice to break the promise. He made the choice to build the barn instead of a house.

The next choice that Father makes is to leave town to look at a horse, leaving his unhappy wife behind with a brand new barn.
"I dun' know but what I'd better go," said Adoniram. " I hate to go off jest now, right in the midst of hayin', but the ten-acre lot's cut an' I guess Rufus an' the others can git along without me three or four days. I can't get a horse round here to suit me, nohow, an' I've got to have another for all that wood-haulin' in the fall. I told Hiram to watch out, an' if he got wind of a good horse to let me know. I guess I'd better go."
"He looked at his wife, and his manner was defiantly apologetic. "If them cows come to-day, Sammy can drive 'em into the new barn," said he; "an' when they bring the hay up they can pitch it in there." 
Once Father has left, Mother makes her first big choice which is equivalent to Father's consequence. In regards to her husband's timely leaving:
"Unsolicited opportunities are the guide-posts of the Lord to the new roads of life," she repeated in effect, and she made up her mind to her course of action." 
"At five o'clock in the afternoon the little house in which the Penns had lived for forty years had emptied itself into the new barn."
Father returns and faces his consequences of braking his promise, building a barn and briefly leaving town.
"Adoniram emerged from the shed and stood looking about in a dazed fashion. His lips moved he was saying something by they could not hear what is was...
 Adoniram took the new horse by the bridle and led him across the yard to the new barn."
Mother makes the choice to move into the new barn and she makes the choice to be assertive with Father.
"Now, father," said she, "you needn't be scared. I ain't crazy. There ain't nothin' to be upset over. But we've come here to live, an' we're goin' to live here. We've got jest as good a right here as new horses an' cows. The house wa'n't fit for us to live in any longer, an' I made up my mind I wa'n't goin'' to stay there."
Scorned, Father accepts his consequences.
"The old man's shoulders heaved: he was weeping.
"Why don't do so, father," said Sarah.
"I'll-put up the-partitions, an'-everything you-want, mother."
Sarah put her apron up to her face; she was overcome by her own triumph.
Adoniram was like a fortress whose walls had no active resistance, and went down the instant the right besieging tolls were used. "Why, mother," he said, hoarsely, "I hadn't no idee you was so set on't as all this comes to."