Anna Holt
English 9
November 5th, 2008
The Garden Party:
An Unseen Cruelty

From afar, a civilization looks exquisite. By definition, a culture is a group of people working together, a group of people contributing, a group of people supporting one another. However upon closer examination, perhaps this river of “cooperation” is not as magnificent as it once appeared. Perhaps upon closer examination, a civilization is not the lovely world of kindness we once assumed it was, but a cruel and isolated island of inequality, of social judgments and class. Perhaps the moment a penny is thrown into the situation, the heart of community dies, and wealth is able to sink its harsh talons into the unsuspecting culture at hand.

The Garden Party, by Katherine Mansfield, at first seemed to be an attractive story of appreciation, however after a second look, I see that this story speaks no more to the beauties of living than it does to the viscous brutality of prejudice. At the thought of entering the shabby village below her estate, Laura shivers. "The very smoke coming out of their chimneys was poverty stricken. Little rags and shreds of smoke, so unlike the great silvery plumes that uncurled from the Sheridans' chimney," she says, not stopping to consider that the fate of wealth was never in the hands of these people. Compared to Laura's extravagant lifestyle, the modest dwellings are tainted, dirty in their unappealing environment. While this kind of prejudice is subconscious, it is precisely the attitude that slowly redefines the laws of morality. While Laura and her family have a garden party, they forget the troubles of the lower class simply because they feel it is acceptable to do so. They are wealthier, therefore, they are better, and inconsiderate actions are not frowned upon. Near the end of the story, Laura finds herself in a room with the deceased husband of one of the poor widows. As she looks upon his face, she witnesses peace. She sees that in the end, no matter our race or class or home, we are alike, and opens her eyes to the fact that the people around her are treated like scum and living in despair. This is not a story of the beauty of happiness, but a story of the beauty of equality.

Perhaps Laura lives in a mansion atop a beautiful hill while the lower class inhabits "mean dwellings" that have nothing but dirt to accentuate their non-existent charm. Perhaps the Sheridans have horse drawn carriages and lace tablecloths. Perhaps they go to church every Sunday in gowns of silk and lovely hats. However, perhaps none of this matters. Perhaps the beauty of life is not found in pretty things, but the peace of a dead man's face, and in the pure social equality that our world lacks.