A Close Reading of Theme in Mansfields A Cup of Tea

Rosemary Fell may not have purchased the quaint jewelry box from the expensive shop but she
was able to buy Ms. Smith. This reading becomes apparent when one considers her character
which is related by a third-person partial omniscient narrator. In an ironic gesture, the narrator
describes Rosemary as not exactly beautiful Pretty? Well, if you took her to pieces... thus
establishing the characters lack and motivation which drives her to possess beautiful objects as
compensation. And the whole story is replete with details that describe how needy of
possessions Rosemary is. The incident with the shopkeeper illustrates this. When Rosemary
enters the store, it is evident that the shopkeeper worships the ground she walks on since she
frequents his store. His appreciation for her is suggested when he says 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. Immediately, he whips out the little box which
looks exquisite and terribly rare. Rosemary fawns over the box and gratifies the taste of the
shopkeeper: Yes, she liked it very much. She loved it; it was a great duck. In a previous
paragraph, Rosemarie describes her son Michael to be a duck of a boy. The repeated use of
the metaphor suggests that Rosemarie tends to regard people, even those who are close to her, as
things. Moreover, the rest of paragraph 5 reveals that she loves the box precisely because her
hands looked charming, resting on its blue velvet finish. One can read this as an outright case
of vanity. Rosemary adores what she can buy, because it prettifies her, as if these objects had no
value in themselves and their only function is to elevate her appearance. Although Rosemary
clearly desires the box, she abstains from buying it despite the fact that she can afford it. In the
second paragraph, it is mentioned that she was rich, really rich, not just comfortably well off
if Rosemary wanted to shop she would go to Bond Street. Given her spending power, she
usually gets what she wants. In a rather spoiled manner, Rosemary demanded those and those
and those four bunches of those and that jar of roses once, at a shop in Regent Street. One
can infer that she declines the purchase of the box since doing so will ensure the shopkeepers
loyalty and deference which the shopkeeper is more than willing to give anyway: the
shopman had already bowed as though keeping it for her was all any human being could ask.
Evidently, the shopman here is already in her possession, which is even more valuable than the
box.
 When Rosemary leaves the store, the narrator describes the setting: Rain was falling,
and with the rain it seemed the dark came too There was a cold bitter taste in the air, and the
new-lighted lamps look sad. Sad were the lights opposite. Dimly they burned as if regretting
something. And people hurried by, hidden by their hateful umbrellas. The personification of
the setting (sad, regretting) parallels Rosemarys feelings: she wished she had the little box,
too, to cling to. Thus the setting her regret in not buying the box and when she says in an
overly-dramatic fashion that There are moments, horrible moments in life, when one emerges
from the shelter and looks out, and its awful, the reader knows that she is aggrandizing her
misery; the only horrible moment that happened was that she did not get the box.

In the same street, she chances upon Ms. Smith, a little battered creature with enormous
eyes. This description of the vagrant as a creature reveals Rosemarys treatment of Ms. Smith
as a poor, hapless animal, similar to her treatment of her son and the charming box. Ms. Smith
was begging for something mundane, the price of a cup of tea, but Rosemary saw her as an
opportunity, an excuse to appear as someone compassionate and charitable to her friends. The
scenario would be like something out of a novel by Dostoevski and she begins to imagine
herself a fairy godmother. She would prove to Ms. Smith that even rich people could be
heroines. Moreover, she views Ms. Smith as a little captive she had netted which suggests
that, like the box whose finish made her hands look charming, Ms. Smith can make her look
grander, and more noble than she really is.

When she brings Ms. Smith home, her reactions further gratify Rosemary. Unused to the
abundant display of luxury, Ms. Smith was speechless, quietly absorbing the strange
surroundings. And this fascinated Rosemary. To further the role she chose to play, she did not
call for her maid Jeanne in order to seem sincere, hands-on, and resourceful although she was
none of these qualities. It is thus ironic that Rosemary saw it fit to think The great thing was to
be natural when she was only pretending. After motioning for Ms. Smith to take a seat, inviting
her to remove her coat, the true character of Rosemary surfaced when she thought Ms. Smith
stupid for gawking at her bedroom. And when she was relieved of her coat, Ms. Smith, to
Rosemarys disappointment, seemed rooted to the spot, unresponsive to her generosity. It was
only when Ms. Smith warned Rosemary that she was about to faint when the latter sprang into
action, demanding that the maid bring tea and brandy right away. After being revived by the
meal, the narrator relates that a more attractive figured emerged, a new being, a light, frail
creature with tangled hair, dark lips, deep, lighted eyes.

Before a conversation was underway, Philip, Rosemarys husband, interrupts them and
asks to see Rosemary in private. Inside the library, Philip is curious to find out who their guest is
and Rosemary explains: I picked her up in Curzon Street. Really. Shes a real pickup. She
asked me for the price of a cup of tea, and I brought her home with me. The phrase pickup
reinforces the value of Ms. Smith to Rosemary a prize, a possession that she got cheaply. In
the middle of her explanation, Philip, in a candid moment, mentions that Ms. Smith is so
astonishingly pretty. Rosemary does a double-take and blushes since she, in her narcissism, had
failed to notice this. Jealous of Ms. Smith but not wanting Philip to find out that she is,
Rosemary, gives her five pound notes and dismisses her unceremoniously. Back in the library,
Rosemary explains Ms. Smiths leaving with a lie, beaming her dazzled exotic gaze on Philip.
This is the same look that Rosemary affected when she was buying flowers in Regent Street
which suggests that even with her husband, Rosemary resorts to affectation, reducing him to the
status of an eager shopkeeper. And true enough, Rosemary, demanding that she be showered
with attention, fishes for a compliment when she says Do you like me? When Philip answers
in the affirmative, Rosemary changes tactic and asks if she can buy the box she saw in the shop.
Philip, expectedly, says yes immediately but the narrator reveals that Rosemary had another
question in mind which she does ask. She asks Philip am I pretty which implies cunning on
Rosemarys part since her line of questioning is meant to confuse and entrap Philip into saying
yes all the way.

The title of the story alludes to the play of motives in the plot. Hungry and frail, Ms.
Smith only wanted a small sum of money to buy a cup of tea. Rosemary exploited this honest
need since she craved for adventure, a scenario that would bolster her self-image since she
knows too well that she is not pretty. Like her artist friends who are invited to her parties
because they amuse her, she expected Ms. Smith to entertain her. Despite the rigmarole of
wanting to help people, Rosemary is unable to since she loves herself too much. Vanity deters
one from demonstrating true charity.