In his article “The New Woman Fiction” from The Victorian Web, Dr. Andrzej Diniejko outlines the socially constructed image of the “New Woman” as it developed toward the end of the 19th century. As Diniejko describes, the New Woman “departed from the stereotypical Victorian woman” in her desires for independence, education, and employment (Diniejko 2). This departure from traditional femininity was mocked in popular satirical depictions of the New Woman, which “usually pictured her riding a bicycle in bloomers and smoking a cigarette” (Diniejko 2). This image presents the New Woman as markedly masculine: she wears pants to allow her to straddle a bicycle and she smokes cigarettes, a typically male activity (for the time) involving a phallic object.
However, Diniejko qualifies this masculinization, considering Lyn Pykett’s observations of “the ambivalent representations of the New Woman in the late-Victorian discourse: ‘The New Woman was by turns: a mannish amazon and a Womanly woman…’” (qtd. in Diniejko 2). Pykett links these seemingly contradictory descriptions with “and,” illustrating the New Woman as a multi-faceted figure containing both masculinity and femininity. As a result, the New Woman evades gender distinctions as well as any kind of singular identity or face.
Considering these complexities of the New Woman, I will analyze how Mona Caird’s The Yellow Drawing Room engages with the cultural conversation. In the story, Vanora Haydon presents a fascinating take on the New Woman which both holds up and challenges the popular image. Before even meeting Vanora, Mr. St. Vincent learns of her garish decoration of the drawing room and determines that she must be “headstrong” and attention-seeking (Caird 103). He muses plainly, “I hate that sort of girl,” and contrasts her with his idea of the “true woman,” who is “retiring, unobtrusive, and indistinguishable” (Caird 103). Caird sets up Vanora against the image of “true” womanhood, playing into the popular masculinized caricature.
This division is seemingly continued when Mr. St. Vincent considers Vanora’s plain sister Clara as his “ideal woman,” who would never decorate in bright yellow (Caird 104). However, upon seeing Vanora for the first time, Mr. St. Vincent observes her “mass of glistening, golden hair,” her “eyes like the sea,” and her “robust” figure (Caird 104). This description recalls Botticelli’s Birth of Venus, the pinnacle of the female form. Indeed, Mr. St. Vincent goes on to describe Vanora as “supremely, overpoweringly womanly. The womanhood of her sisters paled before the exuberant feminine quality which I could not but acknowledge in Vanora” (Caird 105). Here, Caird overthrows Mr. St. Vincent’s idea of the “true” or “ideal” woman,” because Vanora’s femininity exceeds that of her sister Clara. His “scheme of the universe” (Caird 105) is entirely upended by Vanora’s extreme womanliness and beauty, for although Vanora’s behavior frustrates gendered expectations, her image overwhelmingly fulfills them.
With the character of Vanora, Caird challenges the popular masculinization of the New Woman by presenting an overly feminine figure whose personality contradicts her appearance. Caird engages with the ambiguity observed by Lyn Pykett but completely avoids the “mannish amazon” image. On the outside, Vanora is purely feminine, yet beneath the surface she bewilders traditional gender norms. With this choice, Caird presents her own version of the New Woman which blends with the “true” woman,” casting doubt on the Victorians’ ability to clearly distinguish a traditional woman from a rebel.