Sophia's Choice

Sophia’s Choice

Alice Munro’s short story “Too Much Happiness” takes place in the 1800s and Munro sets a tone within this short story about the strength of a woman’s intelligence during a time of female inequality.  The title story “Too Much Happiness” is set in a different era but this short story provides the same subservient, observant inner monologue from its protagonist that can be found throughout the other short stories in Munro’s latest collection.  Protagonist Sophia, a mathematician, struggles with romantic love, womanhood, and finds her greatest joy in mathematics and she discovers these elements are in conflict; the nineteenth century was certainly no place for a female mathematician, and Sophia’s passion ultimately causes her demise. 

Sophia finds herself in the throes of a lustful, physical love affair yet almost loathes the idea of womanhood and finds her truest passion in writing mathematics.  In her early years, Sophia finds herself in a practically loveless union to Vladimir, a sort of cold, terse man, when tragedy occurs and Sophia is left widowed, still searching for her place in life.  She eventually finds herself in the arms of Maksim Maksimovich Kovalesky, whom she describes as, “joyful, and at the same time very gloomy – [a] disagreeable neighbor, excellent comrade…terribly sincere, and at the same time very sly” (249).  Sophia sincerely appreciates Maksim and his husky presence, but Maksim seems to distance himself from Sophia’s mathematical endeavors: “While [Sophia] was basking Maksim decamped.  Never a word about the real reason, of course – just the papers he had to write, his need for the peace and quiet of Beaulieu” (250).  Does Maksim, perhaps, distance himself from Sophia because of his masculine Russian ideals that keep him from truly loving Sophia appropriately, threatened by Sophia’s intelligence?  Maksim makes his feelings clear in a letter he writes to Sophia while staying in Beaulieu: “If I loved you I would have written differently” (251).  Overall, Sophia’s relationship with Maksim, although very lustful and physical, seems born out of a physical necessity and a paternal dynamic seems to present itself:

“That marvelous assurance [Maksim] has, that [Sophia’s] father had, you can feel it when you are a little girl snuggled up in their arms and you want it all your life.  More delightful of course if they love you, but comforting even if it is only a kind of ancient noble pact that they have made, a bond that has been signed, necessarily even if not enthusiastically, for your protection” (295). 

Better this than loneliness, right?  Sophia, holding the Russian culture tight inside her heart, likely views the role of women in much the same way as a Russian man may view women.  For example, while Sophia rides the train, she sees a woman and her injured son.  The child’s need for a nurturing lap is reciprocated in a mechanical, almost obligatory response by the mother.  Sophia begins an internal dialogue, thinking, “How terrible is the lot of women.  And what might this woman say if Sophia told her about the new struggles, women’s battle for votes and places at universities?  She might say, But that is not as God wills” (294).  It is possible that Sophia’s extreme intelligence causes her to look beyond the nearly facile explanation that a god controls her mostly scientific, numerical world.  Sophia’s passion for mathematics transcends her appreciation of Maksim and her perspective about the role of the traditional woman.  Weierstrass, an elite mathematician and professor, takes Sophia under his wing and finds that, “he must soothe her, hold her carefully, letting her learn how to manage the fireworks in her own brain” (271).  Sophia’s gender does not matter to Weierstrass, as he feels he has met his challenge, his competition, but in a healthy way.  There is no competition of male versus female in the Weierstrass house.  Weierstrass’ encouragement of Sophia’s skills allows Sophia to find comfort in mathematics during times of great distress.  During a social function, Sophia became “Too full of glowing and exceptional ideas to speak to people and longer” (300).  Basically, Sophia finds herself needing to escape from the boredom of social gatherings, and her easiest escape is through mathematics. 

            Munro cleverly presents the situations that Sophia experiences and it seems that Sophia is her own greatest conflict.  Sophia sees the physical aspects of women, in the context of her society, as a subservient role that she refuses to adhere to.  When Sophia unpacks her travel bag, she packs it in an untidy manner: “In the morning Sophia took a clean though crumpled frock out her bag – she had never learned how to pack tidily…” (278).  The 1800s, typically viewed this type of woman as an anti-woman, unorthodox and out of control.  Sophia remains in conflict with physical, natural feelings when she finds herself courting Maksim in the early days of their lustful dance.  She mentions having another suitor, a German who paid her to allow him to court her (252); Maksim insists that Sophia should marry him, provided that Sophia is “comfortable with what he had to offer” (253), and Sophia responds to this lukewarm proposal, stating, “To be comfortable with a tepid, courteous offering of feeling, ruling out the disappointments and scenes which had mostly originated with her – that was another matter altogether” (253).  Sophia’s physical need for companionship is fulfilled in Maksim, even if it is not a storybook romance. 

Sophia’s disgust of the mechanics of womanhood in addition to societal expectations makes a successful love affair impossible because it would keep Sophia from her true passion, and this unhealthy cocktail eventually kills her.  The Swedish culture that Sophia finds herself in accepts intelligent women and they “had been the only people in Europe willing to hire a female mathematician for their new university” (253), yet Sophia frequently finds herself in the middle of a big, ironic joke – she is a highly celebrated mathematician in Europe, and when Sophia reaches the punchline,  she realizes that she lives in a place where, “[Europe, in general] would never grant her a job worthy of her gift, that she would be lucky indeed to find herself teaching in a provincial girls’ high school” (250).  Sophia’s passion for math eventually leads to her death.  After sneaking out from a party one snowy evening, Sophia accidentally boards the wrong bus and walks the mile or two back to her residence (300).  Wet feet and the sheer outdoor chill lead Sophia into almost immediate illness.  In her fevered delirium, Sophia describes her idea for a new mathematical novel, but quickly becomes flustered with fatigue and confusion: “[Sophia] said she could do something much better now and started to describe her idea for a new story. She became confused and laughed because she was not doing this more clearly” (302)  Sophia’s drive for mathematical truth to explain life is simply too overwhelming.  Sophia dies with a brilliant and profound idea, an idea to discover the “pulse in life” (302), and her mind is on mathematics up until her very last breath. 

Alice Munro paints an ornate and detailed inner monologue in “Too Much Happiness”, all while the reality of outer life continues.  Maksim’s distant - almost paternal – emotions, Sophia’s view of her place in the world as a woman, and her role as a mathematician are juggled very carefully yet Sophia cannot overcome the physical strain of reality, so she escapes into a world of infinite mathematics.  Perhaps when Sophia says her dying words, “Too much happiness” (302), what she really means is that she finally has entered a dimension where she can be truly happy, having nothing but mathematical delusions until the very end. 

Works Cited

Munro, Alice. Too Much Happiness: Stories. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2009. Print.