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Originally published as a serialized story, The Woman in White was accompanied in some newspapers by illustrations depicting the action of the novel. Examining these illustrations can shed light on how these characters were viewed by Victorian readers—and, in addition, they bring Collins’ vibrant characters to life in a way that text alone cannot. A link to the illustrations can be found here.

While looking through the illustrations of The Woman in White, I noticed that Marian and Laura were portrayed as opposing figures in almost every illustration that featured either woman, or both together. In most of the illustrations, Marian wears dark dresses, while Laura wears white. When Marian and Laura are shown together at Limmeridge, Marian has a rigid, strong posture, while Laura either reclines or leans toward her, reflecting Laura’s reliance on Marian’s protection. However, in a scene depicting the sisters at Blackwater Park, the roles have shifted: Marian leans forward, while Laura stands defiantly tall behind her. Here, the illustrations track the exchange of strength between Laura and Marian seen over the course of the novel.

This pattern is especially apparent in the illustrations depicting Walter’s introductions to Marian and Laura. Both women are seen from Walter’s point of view; however, Marian faces away from Walter while Laura is seen in profile. As a result, we cannot see Marian’s face at all, while Laura’s face is full of expression. In addition, while the background to Marian’s portrait has an almost sketch-like appearance, Laura’s background is richly illustrated. These images, which mimic the narration of the novel in meticulous detail, are crafted to reinforce each woman’s role in her society. Laura fits beautifully into her illustration, completing the picture of purity and innocence as she gazes heavenward with an almost angelic quality. Marian, on the other hand, appears to be sketched almost as an afterthought. The fact that she is turned away prevents the viewer from seeing the most unique physical attribute of Marian Halcombe—her strong facial features. Instead, she fades into a rather unremarkable background, just as unmarried women were marginalized in the Victorian era without any social standing.

Marian’s comment on how Walter and Laura’s children will speak for her made me think of the differences between how the children from illegitimate marriages and the children from legitimate marriages are portrayed in the novel. While it seems that the children of Laura and Walter are going to grow up in a strong and happy marriage, and become the new voice of a new generation, the children that were born outside of marriage – Anne and Percival –both end up in the grave.

Marian’s comments that the children will “speak for [her]” in “their language” (Collins 621) suggests that the children will be a part of a new generation that will speak of her struggles as a woman in the Victorian society. The strength and intelligence that she has shown throughout the novel will then be a part of what the children will inherit from her. Since Marian remained an unmarried woman, the children that will “speak for her” then suggests further that Collins considered it to be a woman’s right to remain unmarried if she so wished it. The children are therefore portrayed to become advocates for radical movements in the society. Additionally, Walter junior is at the end of the story revealed to be the new heir of Limmeridge House, further showing that he has a bright future ahead of him.

However, Anne and Percival’s fates fare for the worse than the children of Walter and Laura. They were both born outside of marriage, as Anne was a result of an affair Laura’s father had, and Percival’s parents were unable to be legally married. Both Anne and Percival are portrayed to have something “wrong” with them: While Anne is described to be mentally handicapped, Percival is throughout the novel depicted to be the villain of the story, along with Count Fosco. Additionally, they both die at the end of the novel: Anne’s tombstone hardly gets a description, compared to the fake tombstone of Laura’s, and there is not even a mention of a funeral for Percival.

The Victorian society was, at this time, concerned with the single women like Marian. Like Greg’s article demonstrates, many men worried about “women, more or less well educated…[retire] to a lonely and destitute old age…they have nothing to do, and none to love, cherish and obey” (Greg 159). I therefore wonder why Collins chose to protest against this idea of women in the novel, but still portrayed children from illegitimate marriages as either challenged or evil, and doom them both to death. As Walter and Laura got married at the end of the novel, it suggests that Collins’ solution for a successful family is marriage, but not love, as Percival’s parents did love each other, but had to remain unmarried. I am therefore left wondering why an author would protest against the ideas that Greg demonstrate in his article, but still maintain the idea that only children within wedlock can succeed in life.

 

Anne Catherick is the Woman in White. In the novel, The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins, Anne’s character initially serves as the catalyst for many crucial events that occur. For example, when Walter first sees Anne, he is left with an overwhelming amount of curiosity. Then later, when Anne reacts negatively to Sir Percival, it serves as indication that he has evil tendencies, thus causing her to react this way. As the novel progresses, Anne is frequently looked to in hopes of providing information about certain tendencies or histories of other characters. Toward the end of the novel, it is even revealed that Laura and Anne are half-sisters. There is no question Anne’s role in the novel is vital.

However, despite Anne’s significance in the plot of The Women in White, she finds an untimely, and rather anticlimactic farewell. After hearing Percival’s aspiration to obtain her money in the event of her death, Laura becomes more unsettled and desperate than she already is. However, if Laura were to fake her death, she would then be released of her obligation as Glyde’s wife. Luckily, at this exact point in the novel, Anne becomes terminally ill and dies. Although Anne is the title character and many of the early plot points revolve around her, she coincidentally dies in a very non-extraordinary way. Further, no one is even aware that she has died, because it is stated that Laura has died instead. After everything, Anne was not even officialy awarded her own death. In Walter’s narration it is stated, “In the eye of reason and of law, in the estimation of relatives and friends, according to every received formality of civilised society, ‘Laura, Lady Glyde’ lay buried with her mother in Limmeridge churchyard” (413). The focus of the novel consistently revolved around Laura.

Since the novel was published, there have been copious interpretations and revisions, both in writing and in other art forms. One intriguing interpretation is the painting, The Woman in White (1871) by Frederick Walker. What is so fascinating about this piece, in particular, is the facial expression of the woman. The piece is very simple, and mundane. The colors incorporated are quite earthy and bland. However, the appearance of the woman is very frantic as she exits the room, as if she were running away from something. When looking at this painting, thoughts of Anne’s anticlimactic death resurface. In a painting such as this, perhaps ‘the woman in white’ is not Anne at all, but rather Laura. Could this interpretation be a depiction of Laura, disguised as Anne, finally able to run from Sir Percival? For it is realized that, regardless of Anne’s importance, the focus of the novel was always, ultimately, Laura.

In the article, “A Man’s Resolution: Narrative Strategies in Wilkie Collins’ The Woman in White” Pamela Perkins and Mary Donaghy parallel Laura’s emptiness of character with the concept of the ideal woman as an aesthetic object. Laura exists throughout the narrative as male property, which is exchanged through marriage transactions, disposed of through the forgery of her death, and in the end undergoes another marriage transaction only to ultimately benefit more men. Laura’s loss of agency and identity through male objectification is especially highlighted by Marian’s character, because she remains “[her] own mistress,” and in control of her own property by never being married off (258 Collins). Although Walter’s character exudes more superficial kindness and love towards Laura, his intentions are paralleled with Sir Percival and Count Fosco. He wishes to gain property, by having Laura as his wife, and thus he makes sure to mold her into the wife he desires. Laura exists as “a blank to be filled by male desire” and is used for “her ability to fit into the role of a charming and innocent young girl” (393 Donaghy). Laura’s character is portrayed as empty and dependent because all the characters, including Marian, need her to be that way so that they feel purposeful. Walter explains that he “is indebted to Marian’s courage” because “Laura’s brighter looks and better spirits told [him] how carefully she had been spared all knowledge,” and how carefully her growth had been stunted to maintain her childlike innocence and dependency on both Marian and Walter. Had Laura been exposed to all the details of the investigation Laura might have disagreed, or might have wanted to make decisions for herself. She may not have wanted to marry Walter after hearing about how Sir Percival died just inches beyond his reach. Walter or Marian could not bear the thought of Laura’s loss of innocence, because Marian could not cope with losing her purpose as a protector and Walter could not withstand losing his opportunity to possess two women and an estate. Thus, Laura is designated from birth to serve everyone else’s needs by remaining a piece of blank parchment, where Laura Fairlie’s life story is determined and narrated by everyone else but Laura.

The Woman in White ends with Laura Walter and Marian all living together at Limmerage without scandal. William Greg would likely argue that Marian is the “redundant” woman in this relationship as she is single and the other two characters are married to each other. This essay will attempt to refute the argument of Marian’s redundancy in the story though the examination of how Wilkie Collins deals with the three issues proposed by Greg regarding women’s redundancy and Marian’s complex role in the narrative that makes her appear both “redundant” and not redundant in comparison with other female characters.

Greg argues that English women remain “redundant” because of three factors: the lack of women who immigrated during the colonization period, men’s preoccupation with prostitutes, and women never being asked by a man to get married. Wilkie Collins deals with two of the three problems Greg proposes through the characters of Madame Fosco and Laura. Madame Fosco immigrates to Italy to marry the Count, solving issue one. Laura, in her marriage to both Sir Percival and Walter deals with men’s fascination with prostitutes. Sir Percival has an obsession with Anne before and after his marriage to Laura. Anne, while not a prostitute, becomes similar to a prostitute in the sense that she is a woman who distracts men from their marriage. This problem is fixed by his death and Laura’s remarriage to Walter. The third issue which Gregg points out is an issue, and potentially holds weight when we consider Marian’s status as a single woman.

Marian is one of the few, if not the only, female to remain single (and alive), throughout the entirety of the novel. No one asks Marian to marry her. However, there a few sentences on page 621 when Walter clumsily asks whether Marian intents to get married and she responds that, “…there can be no parting between [the three of] us” and “I will teach the children to speak for me in their language; and the first lesson they will say to their mother and father is – we can’t spare our aunt.” (621). In this case, Greg might argue that Marian takes on a role of governess for her sister and Walter and “while a noble profession” should still obtain a husband. Carolyn Dever would likely argue back that Marian does find a husband in Walter and a wife in Laura, but its likely Greg would not accept this. However, Marian also falls into the category which Greg allotted for, a woman who chooses to remain single rather than is forced to be single by circumstance.

Marian is redundant because she is a single woman but is also not because she chooses to be single. We can take on alternative perspectives like Dever, or call Marian a proto-feminist because she’d rather have children speak for her rather than a husband. Marian’s complex character complicates Greg’s overly deconstructed reasons as to why Victorian women were single.

In her chapter on Wilkie Collins’s unique variations on the standard marriage plot, Carolyn Dever discusses the ways in which Collins triangulates romantic relationships in The Woman in White: “The novel distributes the emotional intimacy ordinarily credited to marital love among three figures, rather than the conventional two” (113). Dever focuses her exploration of this idea on the novel’s most overt triangulated relationship—the relationship among Laura, Marian, and Walter. She asserts the relationship between the two sisters “is the novel’s most fully realized ‘marriage,’ if we consider marriage a union based on emotional depth, mutual trust, and the presumption of permanence” (114). While Marian functions as an emotional ‘spouse’ for Laura, Dever continues, she simultaneously serves as an intellectual, masculine ‘spouse’ for Walter: “Walter and Laura enter a marriage anchored by its essential bisexuality. Providing a masculine companion for Walter and a feminine one for Laura, Marian is a full partner in this marriage of three” (114). The novel contains ample support for Dever’s argument.

Laura and Marian share multiple scenes wherein emotions and thoughts are shared and accompanied by physical touch or gesture. For example, after Laura finally discloses some of the events of her unhappy honeymoon, the sisters embrace and ultimately kiss: “I had caught her in my arms, and the sting and torment of my remorse had closed them around her like a vice… How long it was before I mastered the absorbing misery of my own thoughts, I cannot tell. I was first conscious that she was kissing me…” (Collins 262). The impassioned embrace and comforting kiss that follow a scene of emotional intimacy, though not overtly sexual, do seem as though they are gestures that would typically come from a lover or a spouse. Similarly, Walter frequently confides in Marian, sometimes asking her advice or for her assistance in carrying out a plot or scheme. In the wake of Sir Percival’s death and the Count’s disconcerting visit to Laura, Marian, and Walter’s temporary London home, Walter turns to Marian for advice on how to protect Laura moving forward: ‘“I was guided by your advice in those past days,’ I said; ‘and now, Marian, with reliance tenfold greater, I will be guided by it again’” (558). Their exchange results in a plan to extract information from the Count as well as Laura and Walter’s marriage.

Though Dever is undoubtedly correct in pointing out Marian’s unusual, and possibly subversive, partnerships with Laura and Walter, I do think she fails to address one important fact that may limit the extent to which we can read this triangulated relationship as a challenge to traditional marriage. Since Marian is a woman, she does not pose a threat to the main legal purpose of marriage—inheritance. At the end of the novel, Walter happily allows Marian to “end our Story” with her introduction of Laura and Marian’s son as “Mr. Walter Hartwright—the Heir of Limmeridge (626-7). Marian’s presence in Laura and Walter’s relationship, while disrupting the institution’s traditional heteronormative binary, poses no threat to marriage’s perpetuation of patrilineal inheritance.

The character of Walter Hartright presented within the novel is one who forces the reader to believe that he is a man exceptionally different from Sir. Percival and Count Fosco. The reader is brought to believe that Walter is different from the other men due to the fact that he is an advocate for the women within the novel, rather than an oppressor. This image of Walter as an advocate for woman and possibly even a feminist is explored throughout the novel because of his actions. Walter is the only male character who actively assists the women in their quest for justice, trying to attain Laura’s true identity and ruin Sir Percival and Count Fosco for their wrong doings. When Walter runs into Anne Catherick on the road to London he points her in the right direction, “We met very late, and I helped you to find the way to London…..Take time to recover yourself-take time to feel quite certain that I am a friend. (pg95-96)” The reader, as well as the women within the novel are lead to believe that Walter is a friend, a trusted male individual who sets forth the best intentions for the women.

However, upon reading Perkins and Donaghy’s, “A Man’s Resolution: Narrative Strategies In Wiklie Collins’ The Woman in White” one can determine that Walter is no different from Fosco and Percival as Perkins states, “Walter proceeds to make Laura even more haze and less individualized…” Alike Fosco and Percival, Walter has a hidden agenda and casts a veiled patriarchal oppression towards the women within the novel. Walter does not help the woman or advocate for them solely because he believes they deserve justice, but because he wants to be the hero for these women, he wants to hold power over them just as much as the other men within the novel, but he approaches it in a different way. Walter’s oppression towards the women is initially overlooked due to his actions and words that projects him as a friend and advocate for the women. Upon revisiting the text through the lens of Perkins and Donaghy, Walter’s sensationalized reaction towards Anne Catherick is a moment that highlights him no different from the typical Victorian male. Despite Walter being a ‘friend’ towards Ann and leading her in the right direction towards London he is shocked at her discovery. When he first sees her he is dumbstruck because of the sight of a woman alone in the middle of the night is something unnatural for a woman within this time. Therefore Walter is perpetuating female oppression because he is so bewildered at the sight of lone Anne Catherick.

In his 1862 essay “Why are Women Redundant?” William Rathbone Greg laments the excess population of single, unmarried women in Great Britain. Greg argues that this excess leads to moral and social evils such as women finding employment outside of the home and women having sexual relations with other women. To remedy this problem, Greg offers a plan for female emigration in order to restore the balance between the sexes.

While Greg’s proposition may appear ridiculous to twenty-first-century readers, reading Greg’s essay alongside Wilkie Collins’s The Woman in White illuminates Collins’s deep engagement with this issue of the redundant woman in his novel, particularly through the characters of Anne Catherick and Marian Halcombe.

In her almost identical physical appearance to Laura Fairlie, Anne Catherick is redundant because she is essentially the duplicate of another woman. The novel later reveals that Laura and Anne are half sisters by the same father. Because Laura is legitimate and married, she survives; by contrast, Anne—illegitimate and unmarried—dies. Anne’s death solves the problem of this redundancy, but not before their likeness enables Sir Percival and Count Fosco to create an elaborate scheme to steal Laura’s identity and fortune. In light of Greg’s essay, Collins appears to be commenting on the danger of redundant women.

By the end of the novel, Marian emerges as the true redundant woman. After Walter and Laura marry, they worry about “the consideration of Marian’s future” (621) as a single, unmarried woman. Marian resolves to live with Walter and Laura in what is essentially a marriage of three. Marian’s strange words to Walter deserve closer examination:

“Wait a little till there are children’s voices at your fireside. I will teach them to speak for me, in their language; and the first lesson they say to their father and mother will be – We can’t spare our aunt!”

Marian clearly indicates reproduction as a byproduct of marriage, echoing Greg’s concern over “the abnormal extent of female celibacy” (162). While Marian will be celibate as an unmarried woman, she describes assuming the domestic role of the mother-as-teacher, thereby splitting female obligations between herself and her half sister.

The word “spare” here is particularly complex. On one level, the word functions ironically because “spare” is synonymous with “redundant” or “extra.” The meaning of the sentence, however, lies in tension with this denotation; taking the definition of “spare” as “to part with” (OED), “We can’t spare our aunt!” means that the children believe Marian to be an absolutely essential part of their household. “Spare” may also carry a third, more nefarious meaning that contradicts the second: “to abstain from destroying, removing” (OED). In this interpretation of “can’t spare,” the children admit to the necessity of removing their aunt. According to Greg, this removal is necessary in order to eliminate the redundant woman. Collins clearly packs a lot of ambiguity into this line, which Greg’s essay helps illuminate.