The Field of Mustard by A. E. Coppard
"The Field of Mustard" by A. E. Coppard is a poignant short story set against the backdrop of a gloomy forest and a mustard field. The narrative follows three women—Dinah, Rose, and Amy—who gather kindling on a November afternoon, revealing their intertwined lives and the struggles they face. Dinah is characterized as vivacious yet burdened by the weight of her responsibilities, expressing dissatisfaction with her marriage and reflecting on a past love, Rufus Blackthorn, who has left a lasting impact on her life. Rose, in contrast, grapples with childlessness and romanticizes the idea of motherhood, while also sharing her own experiences with Rufus, hinting at shared heartache among the women. The story explores themes of longing, disillusionment, and the complexities of female relationships against a melancholic rural setting. As the women depart, the atmosphere is filled with a sense of unresolved grief, underscoring the emotional depth of their conversations and the stark realities of their lives. This narrative invites readers to contemplate the nuances of personal sacrifice, love, and friendship within the confines of societal expectations.
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The Field of Mustard by A. E. Coppard
First published: 1926
Type of plot: Realism
Time of work: The 1920's
Locale: Rural England
Principal Characters:
Dinah Lock , a married woman about forty, vivacious and sensualRose Olliver , a woman about the same age, more reserved
The Story
On a November afternoon, three "sere disvirgined women" are gathering kindling at the edge of a gloomy forest bordered by a field of mustard plants. Dinah Lock, a "vivacious woman full of shrill laughter, with a bosom as massive as her haunches," teases an old man about a watch that was given to his uncle for "doing his duty"; Dinah says that she "never got no watch for doing that a-much."
Dinah and Rose Olliver, a tall, angular woman, leave the woods while the third, Amy Hardwick, remains behind, slowly bundling up her collection of kindling. While they wait for Amy, a "sour scent" rises from the mustard blooms, and the dark woods lie on the hill "like a dark pall over the outline of a corpse." Oppressed by the pervasive melancholy of the scene, Dinah laments that "cradle and grave is all there is for we"; turning to Rose, she says, "I like you, Rose; I wish you was a man."
The two women go on to discuss the dissatisfactions of their lives. Dinah asserts that she is young at heart, while her husband is "no man at all" since an illness. Rose rather bleakly contrasts her childlessness with Dinah's family of four children. Rose takes a clipping from her purse and reads a passage that envisions the world as a beautiful garden filled with cherubic children; when she finishes reading it, she crushes the paper. Dinah says that, while she is willing to sacrifice for her children, she never really wanted any of them: "Somehow," she says, "I've been duped, and every woman born is duped so."
The recollection of her husband's feebleness leads Dinah to reminisce about Rufus Blackthorn, a gamekeeper and a "fine bold man" who was her lover several years before. She recalls how Rufus passed her house while she was working in her flower garden and took her to a wedding where they celebrated boisterously. Thereafter, she was "mad after Rufus" and met him regularly at night.
Dinah has described Rufus as "a perfect devil," but Rose asserts that he was a kind man, particularly toward women. She then tells Dinah a story that Dinah had not previously heard—of how Rufus once concealed the body of a drowned gentleman in his bed so that he could collect the reward for recovering the body. When Rose says that Rufus also made her a pair of reed slippers like a pair he made for Dinah, Dinah accurately infers that Rufus was Rose's lover as well as hers. Rose comments, "We was all cheap to him, cheap as old rags; we was like chaff before him." Dinah and Rose again feel the gloom of the day and of the mustard field, but Amy's arrival prevents further discussion of Rufus.
As they trudge home, bearing the heavy burden of the kindling, Rose envisions Dinah's children in a series of sentimental, almost romanticized, vignettes, while Dinah counters with complaints. Rose thinks of the children as waiting eagerly for Dinah and imagines her "setting round your fire with 'em, telling tales and brushing their hair," while Dinah only says, "Ah, they'll want their bellies filling." Rose speculates that the children will "make you a valentine, and give you a ribbon on your birthday." Dinah responds that "they're naught but a racket from cockcrow till the old man snores—and then it's worse!" Then Dinah envisions Rose spending a quiet and pleasant evening playing draughts or dominoes with her kind husband, who will, she says to Rose, "stroke your hand now and again."
As the two women part in the windy, threatening evening, Dinah again says, "I like you, Rose. I wish you was a man." Rose, however, does not reply. As the women return to their homes, clouds are blown rapidly across the heavens and "the lovely earth seemed to sigh in grief at some calamity all unknown to men."