Marian’s “Faithful Memory” and the Reliability of the Text

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“Victorian Memory” Variety of Rose


Marian’s narration is preoccupied with assuring the reader of her account of the  “reliability of [her] recollection” (Collins 284). Collins inserts a seemingly redundant scene into Marian’s narration: Laura cannot remember the alternative of taking “bills at three months” presented to Sir Percival by his lawyer if he should fail in obtaining her signature. Marian responds, “‘You complimented me on my ready memory not long since–but you seem to doubt it now. I will get my journal and see if I am right or wrong'” (284). Indeed, Marian’s recollection was correct.

This short scene prompts the reader to wonder why Collins would include it– we, of course, are also privy to Marian’s entries and already know of the second alternative. A similar scene arises later, when Marian reports “the host’s anxiety for a little quiet talk over wine and the guest’s obstinate resolution not to sit down again at the table, revived in my memory the request which Sir Percival had vainly addressed to his friend earlier in the day, to come out of the library and speak to him” (312). While these scenes may seem to be superfluous reminders of plot details, perhaps a product of the novel’s serialization, in a novel that claims “No circumstance of importance, from the beginning to the end of the disclosure, shall be related on hearsay evidence” and events will be related “word for word” (9), we may also take these assertions of the prowess of Marian’s memory to be assertions about the reliability of the text.

These moments where Marian’s memory is discussed so blatantly seem to serve no purpose in the text other than to reinforce what the reader, and furthermore, the characters, already know. We are therefore encouraged to read them more closely and seek a greater significance. Marian reflects “In the perilous uncertainty of our present situation, it is hard to say what future interests may not depend upon the regularity of the entries in my journal, and upon the reliability of my recollection at the time when I make them” (284) and goes on throughout her diary to reference her “faithful memory” (318) and the necessity of recording events “while [her] memory vividly retained them” (335). Collins’s diction, particularly “regularity” and “reliability” make assurances of the authority of Marian’s account. While we might be skeptical of her ability to write conversations down exactly as they happened hours after the fact, Count Fosco commends “the marvellous accuracy of her report of the whole conversation [between the Count and Sir Percival] from its beginning to its end” (337). We can see that the text is making assertions of its own reliability, through Marian’s own claims and their corroboration by Count Fosco.

The Woman in White is therefore not only a text which we as readers must assess the reliability of, but also a text which is aware of its own reliability and takes pains to assure readers of its accuracy. Whether that purported accuracy is substantiated will be revealed as the novel develops and the viewpoints of other characters are incorporated.

2 thoughts on “Marian’s “Faithful Memory” and the Reliability of the Text”

  1. For a novel that is so aware of its own reliability, it seems to also be cognizant of its untrustworthy narrators. Although she only has a short account, Hester Pinhorn, Count Fosco’s cook, repeatedly reminds the reader of her lack of education and solid memory. Towards the beginning of her account, Hester says, “whatever you do, don’t trust my memory in the matter” (399). This leads me to wonder why specific narrators are included if they are not trustworthy. If Hester does not trust her own memory, should her narrative be perceived as reality?

  2. I’m interested by Marian’s reliance on the privacy of her diary as a storehouse of her memory. She learns that letters are vulnerable to both tampering and unwelcome reading, but she does not anticipate the Count’s violation of her diary. I wonder what this reveals about the differing sanctities of written communication versus written reflection—both of which are respected as deeply private today as in Victorian times—that the violation of one did not make Marian worry about the violation of the other. Why should one be more disturbing a break in the façade of privacy than the other?

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