by Katherine Mansfield
Rosemary Fell was not exactly beautiful. No, you couldn’t have called her beautiful. Pretty? Well, if you took her to pieces. . . . But why be so cruel as to take anyone to pieces? She was young, brilliant, extremely modern, exquisitely well dressed, amazingly well read in the newest of the new books, and her parties were the most delicious mixture of the really important people and . . . artists—quaint creatures, discoveries of hers, some of them too terrifying for words, but others quite presentable and amusing.
Rosemary had been married two years. She had a duck of a boy. No, not Peter—Michael. And her husband absolutely adored her. They were rich, really rich, not just comfortably well off, which is odious and stuffy and sounds like one’s grandparents. But if Rosemary wanted to shop she would go to Paris as you and I would go to Bond Street. If she wanted to buy flowers, the car pulled up at that perfect shop in Regent Street, and Rosemary inside the shop just gazed in her dazzled, rather exotic way, and said: “I want those and those and those. Give me four bunches of those. And that jar of roses. Yes, I’ll have all the roses in the jar. No, no lilac. I hate lilac. It’s got no shape.” The attendant bowed and put the lilac out of sight, as though this was only too true; lilac was dreadfully shapeless. “Give me those stumpy little tulips. Those red and white ones.” And she was followed to the car by a thin shop girl staggering under an immense white paper armful that looked like a baby in long clothes. . . .
One winter afternoon she had been buying something in a little antique shop in Curzon Street. It was a shop she liked. For one thing, one usually had it to oneself. And then the man who kept it was ridiculously fond of serving her. He beamed whenever she came in. He clasped his hands; he was so gratified he could scarcely speak. Flattery, of course. All the same, there was something. . . .
“You see, madam,” he would explain in his low respectful tones, “I love my things. I would rather not part with them than sell them to someone who does not appreciate them, who has not that fine feeling which is so rare. . . .” And, breathing deeply he unrolled a tiny square of blue velvet and pressed it on the glass counter with his pale finger-tips.
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Question
Use the excerpt from the beginning of “A Cup of Tea” by Katherine Mansfield to answer the question.
Why would Rosemary be considered a complex character?
(1 point)
Responses
Rosemary has complicated thoughts and motivations about the choices she makes.
Rosemary has complicated thoughts and motivations about the choices she makes.
The story is told from Rosemary’s point of view to allow her thoughts and feelings to be the main perspective.
The story is told from Rosemary’s point of view to allow her thoughts and feelings to be the main perspective.
Rosemary observes her surroundings in a way that makes the cultural and historical context clear.
Rosemary observes her surroundings in a way that makes the cultural and historical context clear.
The story has two main characters but is mainly about Rosemary, who is present throughout the story.
The story has two main characters but is mainly about Rosemary, who is present throughout the story.
1 answer
The most suitable response to describe why Rosemary would be considered a complex character is:
Rosemary has complicated thoughts and motivations about the choices she makes.
This option highlights her intricacies beyond mere appearances, as it acknowledges the depth of her character through her actions, feelings, and social interactions. The excerpt hints at her inner life and desires, showcasing her as more than a superficial figure.
