Author: inneverland

The influence of technological advancements on the nerves of the average Victorian is evident in Jean Lorrain’s short story Magic Lantern as well as Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray, more specifically with the presence of opera glasses in both texts. In both texts, male characters use the opera glasses to analyze and critique the women around them, however in Magic Lantern, the narrator is tricked into thinking that the cosmetic fashions of the women at the theater make them appear to not be human, whereas, in The Picture of Dorian Gray, Dorian all of a sudden sees that Sibyl Vane is all too human – a quality that is much too repulsive his taste.

Within the text Magic Lantern, it is only by looking through the opera glasses that our reader-in-the-text / narrator is able to see the other people – specifically the women – in the theater as nonhumans due to Andre Forbster’s instructions. Under the influence of the opera lens, the user becomes open to potentially being manipulated into seeing things in a new, and in this case, horrific light. The preluding conversation between the narrator and Forbster is in support of this technological manipulation, as the narrator was complaining that the current climate of technological advancements ruined horror as an active genre by being too analytical and logical: “You suppress it in the end … after you have analysed it, explained it, determined it, localised it, you heal it as required – and by what means! By electricity and therapy! You have killed the Fantastic, Monsieur” (Lorrain 172). Forbster counters this argument by literally showing the narrator through opera glasses the women of the theater as roaming supernatural predators, proving that technology like opera glasses can instead be used as another medium through which to view the fantastic: “What is the magic that emanates from such creatures – for they are not even pretty, these marrow-crushers, but rather frightful, with their mortuary tint and their blood-tinged smiles?” (Lorrain 174). The descriptive language used here is particularly curious: “Take note of those eyes, with their irises of crystal, and that gleaming tint of porcelain! Her hair is silken, her teeth authentically pearly, like those of dolls” (Lorrain 174), as it is focused on the woman’s physical appearance, but twists it so that what should have been normal and beautiful, meaning silky hair and shining eyes and teeth, instead serves as indicators of her lack of humanity.

This is somewhat echoed in The Picture of Dorian Gray, however, instead of seeing Sibyl Vane as a supernatural creature, Dorian Gray is instead disappointed that she is not any of the persons she portrays on stage and is simply a beautiful young girl. This text also differs in that the opera glasses were used by Lord Henry and not Dorian: “Basil Hallward leaped to his feet and began to applaud. Motionless, and as one in a dream, sat Dorian Gray, gazing at her. Lord Henry peered through his glasses, murmuring, ‘Charming! Charming!’” (Wilde 80), however, it can be argued that the inclusion of the opera glasses indicates that Dorian used his companions’ eyes as lenses in lieu of the glasses. Instead of using the glasses and seeing things in a different light, the mere suggestion of examining another person closer was enough to alter his opinion. While Sibyl’s performance, as opposed to her beauty, was what had shifted in Dorian’s opinion, the language used to describe her acting was still focused on her physical attributes: “She looked charming as she came out in the moonlight. That could not be denied. But the staginess of her acting was unbearable and grew worse as she went on. Her gestures became absurdly artificial. She over-emphasized everything that she had to say” (Wilde 81). Much like in Magic Lantern, the languages can be twisted to read like a critique of her performance as a woman, where her exaggerated movements are not considered charming and instead are annoying and fake.

Within the texts of Dionea by Vernon Lee and Stoker’s Dracula, there is the shared anxiety over the implications of Darwinism for Victorian society, and can be seen specifically in Dracula and Dionea’s odd and singular power over animals. An interesting parallel between Dracula and Dionea is that both characters are described as being attractive to animals – Dracula is able to control wolves and Dionea is almost always accompanied with her white pigeons. The ability to manipulate animals in this way is a cause for nervousness among the other characters because it shows that they are more closely related to the animals, and whose company they prefer over their fellow humans.

This is aided by the Victorian anxiety fueled by the question of how distant humans are from their primal ancestors. Darwin’s work with evolution suggests that there is a direct link between humans and other primates, which connects to the fear of regression in that humans can very easily slip backwards and once again become animals if they are not careful of how they structure their society. As seen in the other characters’ fear of both Dracula and Dionea, it is disconcerting to see someone – presumably human – able to control animals: “I found Dionea, standing by the side of a big basket of roses, one of the white pigeons perched on her shoulder (Lee 13). This is best characterized by the Victorian fear of having any resemblance to their primal ancestors because it brings up the question of whether or not humans are actually the superior race.

However, Dracula has a more complicated relationship between Dracula and animals because in a sense Dracula is an animal, and Dionea is merely a beautiful girl – if she is more ‘animal’ than human, then it is not shown in her physical appearance. The language Jonathan Harker uses to describe the physical features of Dracula in the beginning of the novel are reminiscent of some sort of half-animal-half-human creature more easily found in The Island of Dr. Moreau, particularly in regards to his hands and his teeth. Dracula’s hands were “… rather coarse – broad, with squat fingers. Strange to say, there were hairs in the centre of the palm. The nails were long and fine, and cut to a sharp point” (Stoker 25). This account in conjunction with “… peculiarly sharp white teeth; these protruded over the lips…” (Stoker 24) gives the reader an impression that Dracula has characteristics more in common with a canine than with Jonathan Harker, especially since he is able to easily transform himself into a wolf or a bat.    

Dracula and Dionea also differ in that instead of Dionea resembling an animal, she more closely relates to a ship’s figurehead of a mermaid – made of wood or stone, longing to get back to the ocean – “She spends hours and hours on the terrace overlooking the sea (her great desire, she confided to me, is to get to the sea – to get back to the sea, as she expressed it…” (Lee 6,7) – and indifferent to many human activities except for singing. “…raising her head witht hat smile like the twist of a young snake, she sand out in a high guttural voice a strange chaunt, consisting of the word Amor – amor – amore” (Lee 13). Dracula, on the other hand, while not having the complete appearance of being human, is more emotionally so, as he is heavily invested in the intricacies of human life, reading everything he possibly can about London in order to better understand the inner workings of society: “The books were of the most varied kind – history, geography, politics, political economy, botany, geology, law – all relating to England and English life and customs and manners” (Stoker 26).

Mina’s characterization of being a proper Victorian wife is best exemplified in her focus of keeping up appearances at all hours of the day and night. This anxiety is unwittingly present at all times in Mina’s narrative. While staying with Lucy and Mrs. Westenra in Whitby, her concern for herself and Lucy’s reputation was evident during Lucy’s sleepwalking episodes. On page 100, Mina expects Lucy to adhere to the social standard of being appropriately dressed both in and out of doors: “As I was leaving the room it struck me that the clothes she wore might give me some clue to her dreaming intention. Dressing-gown would mean house; dress, outside”. She justified this hypothesis due to the fact that she herself had taken the time to get dressed, and that any rational woman, awake or asleep, must have also taken these steps.

Mina, however, was horrified and embarrassed when she finds that Lucy went outside dressed only in her nightgown, and states that she was, “filled with anxiety about Lucy, not only for her health, lest she should suffer from the exposure, but for her reputation in case our story should get wind” (pg 103). Mina is afraid that Lucy is potentially involving her in a scandal, and is all the more resolved to improve Lucy’s health.

Mina’s care of Lucy is also indicative of the trope of ideal Victorian women to be “pure, selflessly motivated by the desire to serve others rather than fulfill her own needs” (1061). In contrast, Lucy does not fit this description, as she is unable to care for anyone, and especially not herself. Mina is also extremely devoted to Jonathan, even before he officially became her husband.

In the first inclusion of one of her journal entries, she writes in reference to the goal of learning to write shorthand, “When we are married I shall be able to be useful to Jonathan” (62). She also delights in being his nursemaid when he returns mentally damaged to England. “I am busy, I need not tell you, arranging things and housekeeping…. I wish I could run up to town for a day or two to see you, dear, but I dare not go yet, with so much on my shoulders; and Jonathan wants looking after still” (165). Caring specifically for husbands is echoed in The Longman Anthology as women were expected to “soothe the savage beast her husband might become as he fought in the jungle of free trade” (1061), especially when considering that Jonathan visited Dracula on business and in hopes of it helping to further his career.

There is an element of Mina that almost seems to rejoice that Jonathan is not completely mentally sound, as she delights in him being dependent on her, and enjoys being needed, “The poor dear was evidently terrified at something – very greatly terrified, I do believe that if he had not had me to lean on and to support him he would have sunk down” (184). As stated in The Longman’s Anthology on page 1061, “Only in their much vaunted ‘femininity’ did women have an edge, as nurturers of children and men’s better instincts” and Mina clearly revels in the role of being a caregiver.  

While reading H. G. Wells’ The Island of Dr. Moreau, I was focused on the recurring theme within the text of the transition and fluidness between human and non-human characteristics. This is specifically seen towards the end of the novel, as Prendick is left alone on the island with Moreau’s experiments – all of which gradually revert to a more wild version of themselves. The influence of the creatures on Prendick is exemplified in his acknowledged friendships between some of the creatures, as some of them he has a “friendly tolerance” (96) towards and his outright kinship with the Dog-Man “After the death of this poor dog of mine, my last friend, I too adopted to some extent the practice of slumbering in the daytime, in order to be on my guard at night” (100). This quote also shows his transition to a more nocturnal lifestyle due to the totally immersive state of being surrounded by half-animals.

Additionally, the significance of Prendick’s closet companion on the island having been derived from a dog suggests that only the most docile and domesticated animals are trustworthy and worthy of being by the side of humans: “I scarcely noticed the transition from the companion on my right hand to the lurching dog at my side” (97). Dog Man is the only creature on the island that Prendick willingly allows to touch his hand, but only after Dog Man calls him ‘Master’ and pledges servitude to him: “The thing was evidently faithful enough, for it might have fallen upon me as I slept….extending my hand for another licking kiss” (93). Part of this honored position, however, can be traced directly to the creature’s willingness to serve humans “The Dog Man scarcely dared to leave my side“ (95) and in this way it can be argued that Prendick retains the human ability to domesticate creatures and does not completely devolve into just another animal on the island.

However, Wells also parallels Prendick’s degeneration to a more animalistic version of himself alongside the reversion of the creatures on the island to a more wild and truer form of themselves – “I, too, must have undergone strange changes…. I am told that even now my eyes have a strange brightness, a swift alertness of movement.” (98). Prendick defines the shift in his nature as a result of having “caught something of the natural wildness of my companions” (102). This shift appears to be both permanent and irreversible both in the case of Prendick and the creatures. On a grander level, this fear of “catching” less-than desirable characteristics can be connected to the Victorian fear of being conquered and overrun by the societies that they had previously taken control over. It contributes to the general fear of outsiders/aliens – anything that is different has the potential to upset the foundation of Victorian society and way of life. These moments in the text can also be read as a question of what separates humans, and in the case of this class and novel, specifically Victorians, from other animals and other cultures. The fear that Victorians might resemble other races too closely to be comfortable also shines through as a large part of what I believe Wells was exploring in writing this novel was how easy is it for another race to become passably colonized or “domesticated”.