Class Blog

Mirror Mirror (But Like…Not)

In Dante Gabriel Rosetti’s poem “The Portrait” there is a repeated theme of burial, both literally in the model’s death, but also metaphorically in the poet’s return to images of incarceration, suffocation and looking through.  Christina Rosetti’s “In an Artist’s Studio” speaks back against these images of confinement and locates their cause. 

The poem’s first quatrain is scanned as iambic pentameter, the meter which corresponds to walking or breathing, but the subject is eerily inanimate: 

“One face looks out from all his canvases,  

One selfsame figure sits of walks or leans: 

We found her hidden just behind those screens, 

That mirror gave back all her loveliness.” (“Artist’s” l. 1-4). 

Alongside the steady beat of the scansion, “One” is repeated in parallel to capture both the subject’s “face” and “figure” creating a preoccupation with the body.  There is also something interesting happening with the rhyme scheme: ABBA.  Since “we” find the “her” in question “behind those screens,” behind the surfaces of the painting, the speaker also metacognitively embeds the suggestion in the contained “B” lines: she “leans” on the “screens,” waiting to be let out of the “canvases” that are only interested in her external “loveliness,” and not her personhood. 

Moving into the second quatrain delivers similar information, but with a new twist from the speaker: “A saint, and angel – every canvas means, / The same one meaning, neither more nor less.” (“Artist’s” l. 7-8).  Again, the parallel pattern of descriptors trundles on, until the middle of line 7 with the emdash where the narrator explodes, making even further explicit what the parallelism suggests.  The monotonous iambic pentameter certainly mocks the meaninglessness of each creation, but the word “one” recalls the woman’s description from the first quatrain.  Here, the speaker criticizes both the artists’ monolithic conception of the woman’s personhood, and his compulsion to return to the same subject (either from inability to invent or obsession with a single rendering). 

 The poem’s criticism then turns vampiric: “He feeds upon her face by day and night, / And she with true kind eyes looks back on him” (“Artist’s” 9-10).  Jan Marsh writes that “women are rendered decorative, depersonalized;…reduced to an aesthetic arrangement of sexual parts, for male fantasies” (Lee).  In these lines, the sestet begins, and the rhyme scheme begins to indicate that the subject and artist are out of sync.  The consonance of “feeds” and “face” and parallelism of “day and night” suggest an uneven exchange where violence is done on the woman who can but passively “look back on him” with “aesthetic[ally] arrang[ed]”
“true kind eyes.” Even before the artist’s “dream” is mentioned in the final lines, the speaker hints at the fantasy of consumption whether that be in a sexual or metaphorical way. 

The final lines are also resonant with Marsh’s criticism: “Not as she is, but was when hope shone bright; / Not as she is, but as she fills his dream.” (“Artist’s” 13-14). The artist’s “dream” ultimately results in a Platonically dangerous echo-chamber where the artist is more interested in copying his idea of her (“Not as she is, but was”) and his paintings of her than the woman herself.  This is perhaps why in the first quatrain discusses the surface of the paintings rebounding “loveliness” – the paintings are the mirrors to one another, not to the woman, and so the woman is lost.  But not completely.  The repetition in the final three lines of “not as” resists his categorization of her identity, and the final line is unrhymed, resisting the traditional sestet resolution to show that the speaker recognizes that the artist’s “dream” is out of constancy with who she “is.” 

 

Works Cited: 

Rossetti, Christina. “In an Artist’s Studio.” The Poetry Foundation, [1896] 2025, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/146804/in-an-artist39s-studio. Accessed 12 March 2025. 

Rossetti, Dante Gabriel. “The Portrait.” The Poetry Foundation, [1870] 2025, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45023/the-portrait-56d22459825d7. Accessed 12 March 2025. 

Lee, Elizabeth. “The Femme Fatale as Object.” The Victorian Web, 1996, https://victorianweb.org/gender/object.html. Accessed 12 March 2025. 

The Victorian Doppelgänger

In class, we discussed the idea of the “Victorian Doppelgänger” and how it connects to The Woman in White. In the article we read it says, “Specifically, doppelgänger narratives involve a duality of the main character who is either duplicated in the figure of an identical second self or divided into polar opposite selves.” The original concept of the Victorian doppelganger was from the superstition that seeing one’s double was an omen of death. There are many doppelgängers or doubles in this novel that reflect the difference in the characters.

The clear double in the novel is between Laura Fairlie and Anne Catherick. They are close enough in appearance that Anne is mistaken for Laura even after her death. While their physical similarity allows for the novel’s biggest deception, their different lives show where they differ. Laura is a wealthy woman of high status meaning she is protected, but her life is in the hands of the men who surround her. Anne is poor, but her perceived knowledge gives her a certain power against the people who try to bring her harm.

Another double that I recognized in the novel is between Walter Hartright and Sir Percival Glyde. Walter is seen, as recognized from his telling last name, as the “good guy” who is driven by his morality and pursues justice when others have been wronged. He is honest, passionate, and loyal to Marian and Laura. In contrast, Sir Percival is deceptive and relies on lies to maintain his status. He experiences his downfall from his lies and secrets. Their relationships with Laura highlight their differences and show the difference between virtue and villainy.

Another double I found interesting was between Mrs. Catherick and Mrs. Clements. Although Mrs. Catherick is Anne’s biological mom, she is cold and self-interested. She is more focused on keeping her status and reputation than protecting her own daughter. Mrs. Clements is not Anne’s biological mom, but she is nurturing and protective towards Anne. She raises Anne as her own and steps into the role of her mother. Mrs. Clements is genuinely kind and seeks out the best for Anne. They represent motherhood in the Victorian era and the reader sees how their care influenced Anne. Despite their significantly different roles, I find it interesting that Mrs. Clements ends up being part of the reason for Anne’s demise. She brings Anne to Count Fosco, thinking she was helping Anne, but she was deceived by him, and he is the cause of Anne’s untimely death.

The use of doubles in this novel reinforces the themes of the novel. By mirroring characters and contrasting them against each other, Collins highlights the differences between good and evil, truth and deceit, and justice and corruption. It also reflects morality and choice. The doubles show how the characters can be so similar but take vastly different paths. The doubles not only drive the plot but show human nature.

Return of the Repressed and the Hat Man?

“The outside of the man you were marrying was fair enough to see. He was neither tall nor short—he was a little below the middle size. A light, active, high-spirited man—about five-and-forty years old, to look at. He had a pale face, and was bald over the forehead, but had dark hair on the rest of his head. His beard was shaven on his chin, but was let to grow, of a fine rich brown, on his cheeks and his upper lip. His eyes were brown too, and very bright; his nose straight and handsome and delicate enough to have done for a woman’s. His hands the same. He was troubled from time to time with a dry hacking cough, and when he put up his white right hand to his mouth, he showed the red scar of an old wound across the back of it. Have I dreamt of the right man? You know best, Miss Fairlie; and you can say if I was deceived or not. Read next, what I saw beneath the outside—I entreat you, read, and profit.”

I was really drawn to Freud’s understanding of dreams, and, as it pertains to the text, I was interested in the letter written by Anne Catherick to Miss Fairlie. Here, I’ll analyse the Freudian influences of Victorian understandings of dreams, which adds another layer of complexity to the already suspenseful reading of the letter. Anne’s description of Sir Percival Glyde as “fair enough to see” but urging Miss Fairlie to “read next, what I saw beneath the outside” is laden with both conscious and unconscious insight. It provides an essential clue to the tension between appearances and hidden truths, an idea central to the narrative of The Woman in White. Anne’s letter can be seen as an attempt to reveal the truth, which is something that has been deeply buried by Sir Percival. Anne, as a character, embodies the struggle of the repressed voice fighting to break free. In her letter, she is not just offering a description of Sir Percival; she is, in fact, attempting to expose the hidden, unconscious layers of his identity that she knows are dangerous and deceitful. Freud’s theory of the return of the repressed is relevant here. Anne herself is a repressed figure, in the literal sense of being confined to an asylum, so her experiences with Sir Percival result in the suppression of her truth. In the letter, Anne seeks to break that silence, demanding that Miss Fairlie “read next, what I saw beneath the outside.” This can be seen as a call to confront the repressed truths about Sir Percival, which, like all repressed material, will inevitably return. I feel that Freud would point to Sir Percival Glyde’s scar on the back of his hand as a sign of a repressed past, an evident manifestation of his guilty past that cannot be hidden completely. Here, Freud would likely argue that there’s a danger of ignoring psychological truths that lie beneath the surface, which is a topic that the novel itself seeks to explore. In Anne writing the letter, she mirrors the novel’s broader thematic concern with the return of repressed elements: those aspects of the self or the past that cannot remain concealed forever. With this understanding, the letter isn’t her describing Glyde’s physicality, but rather represents an unconscious struggle to bring forth the repressed truth. The dream is explained by Freud’s idea that what is repressed will eventually find a way to surface. Or who knows, maybe she took Benadryl and saw the hat man instead of Sir Percival Glyde! 

I’m walking away, but don’t worry, I’m still following all the rules… kinda.

Jay Walker




The British Novel Pretends To Be Subversive

“For example, he is immensely fat. Before this time I have always especially disliked corpulent humanity. I have always maintained that the popular notion of connecting excessive grossness of size and excessive good-humour as inseparable allies was equivalent to declaring, either that no people but amiable people ever get fat, or that the accidental addition of so many pounds of flesh has a directly favourable influence over the disposition of the person on whose body they accumulate. I have invariably combated both these absurd assertions by quoting examples of fat people who were as mean, vicious, and cruel as the leanest and the worst of their neighbours. I have asked whether Henry the Eighth was an amiable character? Whether Pope Alexander the Sixth was a good man? Whether Mr. Murderer and Mrs. Murderess Manning were not both unusually stout people? Whether hired nurses, proverbially as cruel a set of women as are to be found in all England, were not, for the most part, also as fat a set of women as are to be found in all England?—and so on, through dozens of other examples, modern and ancient, native and foreign, high and low. Holding these strong opinions on the subject with might and main as I do at this moment, here, nevertheless, is Count Fosco, as fat as Henry the Eighth himself, established in my favour, at one day’s notice, without let or hindrance from his own odious corpulence. Marvellous indeed!” (Collins PG)

The question of fatness as it relates to consumption is one that we see as the women in the story with bigger frames are framed as having bigger appetites. The framing of fatness as a moral failing is something that has persisted for only heaven knows how long and yet here we see another stereotype of fat people, that they are good-natured. Here we see Marian offer what seems to be a diatribe against the very idea of stereotypes in saying that they’re simply inane, “either that no people but amiable people ever get fat, or that the accidental addition of so many pounds of flesh has a directly favourable influence over the disposition of the person on whose body they accumulate. I have invariably combated both these absurd assertions by quoting examples of fat people who were as mean, vicious, and cruel as the leanest and the worst of their neighbours.” (Collins PG) This condemnation of bigotry, or at the very least the enumeration of the flaws of stereotyping is symbolic of the trope many Victorian novels have. They make a good point but they miss it entirely. Pamela; or, Virtue Rewarded is another such novel that seems to miss its own point. It shows a young woman getting groomed, it is written almost as a horror novel, and then she ends the novel marrying her groomer and it’s framed as a good thing. Victorian novels love to play at being subversive but at the end of the day they are invested in the creation and the upkeep of British “normalcy”. At the end of this novel our main character is raising white British children.

Writing from the side of the sea,

Red.

The Puppeteer, the Fool, & the Heroine

Full quote of Focus: (no pg #’s I used Project Gutenberg)

  • “Thank your lucky star,” I heard the Count say next, “that you have me in the house to undo the harm as fast as you do it. Thank your lucky star that I said No when you were mad enough to talk of turning the key to-day on Miss Halcombe, as you turned it in your mischievous folly on your wife. …” Can you look at Miss Halcombe and not see that she has the foresight and the resolution of a man? With that woman for my friend, I would snap these fingers of mine at the world. With that woman for my enemy, I, with all my brains and experience—I, Fosco, cunning as the devil himself, as you have told me a hundred times—I walk, in your English phrase, upon egg-shells! And this grand creature—I drink her health in my sugar-and-water—this grand creature, who stands in the strength of her love and her courage, firm as a rock, between us two and that poor, flimsy, pretty blonde wife of yours—this magnificent woman, whom I admire with all my soul, though I oppose her in your interests and in mine, you drive to extremities as if she was no sharper and no bolder than the rest of her sex. Percival! Percival! you deserve to fail, and you have failed.”

Response:

This passage above reveals the underlying threads of an informal empire forming in England with Fosco as the puppeteer, Percival as the reckless fool, and Marian as the heroine. Drawing on the informal empire reading my group was given in Thursday’s class, Fosco embodies hierarchical governance over the relationships in this novel. Fosco’s character serves as an informal governmental force on the actions of Percival Glyde, ultimately manipulating him to get what he wants. Fosco is the leverage of the novel as a whole, pulling the plot forward while revealing Marian’s emotional and moral force in the story. While Marian lacks social and legal power over the marriage, she presents herself as highly intellectual, and undeniably loyal to Laura and her well-being. The quotation opens with Fosco retaliating against Sir Percival: “Thank your lucky star that you have me in the house to undo the harm as fast as you do it.” Fosco makes his dominance known in relation to Percival, implying that he would be in great danger without him sweeping in to save the other. Fosco’s language suggests that Percival is foolish and abrupt about his decision-making and behaviors. The fear of Percival’s secret being exposed, makes him vulnerable to Fosco’s exploitation.

By having Count Fosco say, “This grand creature, who stands in the strength of her love and her courage, firm as a rock, between us two and that poor, flimsy, pretty blonde wife of yours—” reveals his recognition of Marian’s heroic qualities and morally strong interior. Yet, Fosco seems to commemorate Marian’s loyalty to Laura which is quite paradoxical of a man to express to woman. Fosco goes as far to say that he admires Marian “with all his soul,” but to the extent that perpetuates male superiority and control. Additionally, he presents a clear difference between Marian and Lady Glyde insinuating that most woman lack the willpower Marian has. 

Marian’s dream and Freud

On pages 273-74, Marain has a dream in which she sees Walter Hartright in various settings such as stranded on a wrecked ship, in a forest, lying on the steps of an old temple, and in front of a tomb. Throughout this dream, Marian’s subconscious places Hartright into numerous deadly situations. Throughout the situations he becomes more and more alone, and in larger amounts of danger. Throughout this passage, Walter often refers to himself, and the “me” is italicized. It is also used in reference to his fate, usually him being spared. For Marian to think of Hartright in this way shows that she thinks of him as separate from other variables in her life, and he is going to be responsible for solving whatever mysteries are surrounding them. 

In Freud’s “Remembering, repeating, and working through,” he discusses dreams as a way for unconscious desires and memories to come to the surface. Especially in terms of repetition, where he believes that one “repeats everything that has already made its way from the sources of the repressed into his manifest personality” (page 151). Before describing her dream, Marian claims that she has not thought of or talked about Hartright all day, but he just appeared in her mind. This combined with the repetition of him appearing repeatedly in multiple different locations shows that she is experiencing an unconscious fixation on Walter Hartright, despite her conscious denial of thinking about him. The fact that these thoughts only appear when she claims to not be in control of her mind support Freud’s idea that our repressed desires come to us in dreams and other “weakened” states. While Marian appears to be one of the stronger women in the novel, this dream shows her unconscious fears that she does not want to acknowledge, as well as her fixation with Hartright.

“The tooth lost its relish”: Sugar Consumption in George Eliot’s “Brother Jacob”

Sweets are constantly consumed in George Eliot’s short story, “Brother Jacob.” In the opening chapter, Mr. David Faux convinces his brother, Jacob, that he is able to turn the guineas he has stolen from their mother into candies. David does this in order to keep Jacob from revealing his secret: that he intends to take their mother’s money and use it to help him create a new life for himself in the West Indies where he believes he can improve his lot in life and become something more than a confectioner. Though “David chose his line [of work] without a moment’s hesitation; and with a rashness inspired by a sweet tooth . . . the tooth lost its relish and fell into blank indifference; and all the while, his mind expanded, his ambitions took new shapes” (49). By stating that David was “rash” when making his decision to become a confectioner, the narrator implies that there was a certain level of immaturity on David’s part. However, now the narrator seems to suggest that David has outgrown his sweet tooth, and with his maturation, his life as a confectioner no longer suits. Why is this? Why is sugar and its consumption controversial in the nineteenth centruy?

Laura Eastlake provides answers. She claims that by midcentury, “sugar and sweet-eating were associated with juvenility, femininity, and the domestic sphere” and were considered “antithetical to adult British manliness” (516). If sugar and sweets were associated with youth, femininity, and the domestic sphere, David’s desire to change his life begins to make more sense. As a young British man, his work as a confectioner provides him with no means to elevate himself within society. His maturation and loss of his sweet tooth seem to imply that he wants to become the epitome of British manliness; however, because of the work that he does and the negative way that sweet-eating is viewed, he is unable to do so. Instead, he is forced to stay in this perpetual state of juvenility and unseriousness. Thus, the tension between the life that David wants to leave behind and the one that he wants to create becomes clear. If he is to be a “real” man, he must give up sweets on all fronts.

Eastlake also claims that in addition to being associated with juvenility and unmanliness, the “seemingly domestic acts of sugar consumption became highly politicized and were made analogous to the consumption not only of slave labor but of human bodies and blood” (516). As someone who makes his living on the selling and consumption of sugar, David’s connection to sugar plantations is established. Taking Eastlake’s claims into account and the narrator’s suggestion that David wants to create a new life for himself outside of being a confectioner, I wonder if perhaps Eliot is critiquing both what it means to be a British man and the practice of slavery simultaneously. If British men who are the epitome of manliness should not consume sugar and sweets, then it would seem that sugar plantations should not hold value to them. By extension, I would argue that Eliot suggests that British men who are the epitome of manliness should therefore not support slavery and the way that sugar plantations are managed.

“The Romantic Art of Handshaking”: The Walter Hartright Story

Throughout The Woman in White, Wilkie Collins uses a lot of flowery, over the top language to describe simple interactions between Walter Hartright and Laura Fairlie. These interactions, exclusively described from Walter’s perspective, convincingly portray the pent up sexual and romantic tension between the two. In Victorian society, English men and women were forbidden from discussing topics such as sex and desire openly, because they were considered extremely taboo. According to an excerpt from Sex, Scandal, and the Novel sexual unspeakability does not function simply as a collection of prohibitions for Victorian writers. Rather, it affords them abundant opportunities to develop an elaborate discourse – richly ambiguous, subtly coded, prolix and polyvalent – that we now recognize and designate by the very term literary(Cohen 3). Essentially, the strict nature of Victorian society as it relates to sexuality caused Victorian authors to develop their own covert methods for describing sexual desire and passion. Many of Walter’s passages are devoted to romanticizing his relationship with Laura, especially when describing their early interactions when they were merely student and teacher. When lamenting about his feelings for her, he writes “Yes my hardly-earned self-control was completely lost to me as if I had never possessed it; lost to me, as it is lost every day to other men, in other critical situations, where women are concerned” (Collins 66). With this statement, Walter is acknowledging an age-old sentiment that women are “temptations” to men, and that the trap of womanly wiles must be avoided for it can be disastrous in certain situations. He continues “I should have asked why any room in the house was better than home to me when she entered it, and barren as a desert when she went out again-why I always noticed and remembered the little changes in her dress that I had noticed and remembers in no other women before- why I saw her, and heard her, and touched her (when we shook hands at night and morning) as I had never seen, heard, and touched any other woman’s before” (Collins 66). It is evident in the way that Hartright carefully chooses his words so as not to so much as approach vulgarity when describing his attraction to Laura, that he is trying to be the perfect British gentlemen. For example, when he mentions the thrill of touching her, he immediately clarifies that they only made physical contact through the chaste gesture of shaking hands. Because Walter is prevented from acting on his feelings due to his position and the expectations of polite Victorian society, he is relegated to waxing poetic about his painful experience of falling for Laura.  

Mrs. Catherick’s Motivations: Parenthood and Power

“I had taken Anne to the north with me; having my whims and fancies, occasionally, about my child, and getting, at times, jealous of Mrs. Clements’s influence over her. I never liked Mrs. Clements…and I was, now and then, not averse to plaguing her by taking Anne away. Not knowing what else to do with my girl… I put her to school in Limmerridge. The Lady of the manor, Mrs. Fairlie… amused me wonderfully, by taking a violent fancy to my girl. The consequence was, she learnt nothing at school, and was petted and spoilt at Limmeridge House. …They put some nonsense into her head about always wearing white. Hating white and liking colors myself, I was determined to take that nonsense out of her head as soon as we got home again.” (Collins 535)

This passage from Mrs. Catherick’s letter to Walter emphasizes the unequal and superficial nature of her relationship with Anne as well as establishing the self interest that drives her character. This is presented through the excessive use of commas and denigrating terms that she uses to describe other’s affection for Anne.

First, the excessive use of commas in the first sentence of the passage disrupt the sentence’s flow and implies that for Mrs. Catherick, admitting jealousy over someone she dislikes and considers beneath her, deeply hurts her pride to admit. The pauses of the commas in turn are read as empathic pauses or slow and careful formulation of thoughts. Both imply a truth that she is not willing to admit. In contrast, if the admittance of jealousy had a continuous uninterrupted flow, it would signify it as a comfortable truth that has no underlying negative association through how easy and smooth the formulation of phrasing for the sentence would be. 

Mrs. Catherick continues the depiction of her lack of affection for Anne by describing Mrs. Farlie’s affection and care for her as “violent fancy”. This phrase undermines and downplays the sincerity and depth of their connection through “violent” and “fancy”’s shared association with a sense of uncontrolled irrational judgement. Through this, she implies affection for her daughter as irrational. She cannot understand why Mrs. Fairlie would hold such affection for Anne and is only interested in maintaining and having “influence” over her daughter. In fact, she blames Mrs. Fairlie for causing Anne’s “horrible” attachment to only wearing white. She dismisses something that brings Anne comfort for her own preference for colors and indicates through this that she is not interested in knowing Anne, but rather in controlling her. 

Lastly, Mrs. Catherick’s negative portrayal of the pseudo maternal figures’s care indicates that she views her daughter as beneath her, similar to the way that she would view an animal or a pet. Her pointed use of “petted and spoilt” to describe Anne’s treatment at Limmeridge along with her attempts to control the focus of Anne’s affections and the way she dresses is reminiscent of the way that one would talk about and treat a pet. Specifically, petted is a term that one would very rarely use to describe another human being as the action can be a demeaning way of showing affection for an equal. While wanting control over the education and treatment of her daughter can fit into expectations of parenthood, the desire for control over appearance and affection, along with the usage of “petted” indicates that her interest is on a more superficial level. The jealousy she feels isn’t due to desire for familial love but rather stems from her desire for control, respect and attention. The repeated use of “My girl” and “my child” also supports this claim through the emphasis on possession and control created by repetition of the phrases. She claims possession in response to the care of Mrs. Fairlie and Mrs. Clements, and uses it as a reminder of her parental control over Anne. 

Through sentence flow, usage of phrasing that diminishes Anne and implies affection for her daughter as irrational, Mrs. Catherick repeatedly emphasizes that her only concern is her power and influence. This understanding of character shows how the intensity of her commitment to reputation drive her actions and character in the plot and brings her to callously disregard the harm caused to others .



Is Count Fosco…Robert California??

Count Fosco, as discussed in class, is a sleazy, grimy, Robert-California-esk character. In “Sugar” by Laura Eastlake, she describes Count Fosco as “both unmasculine and distinctly un-British” using his child-like approach to sugar to cover for his commanding attitude and mesmerism over many of the characters. She then goes on to contradict herself stating that “sugar and chocolate were proffered as fuel for masculine performance, from the physical endurance” and sugar was a “masculine endeavor whether physical, commercial, or imperial” which directly followed her description of The Count. By contradicting herself, she is now stating that chocolate and sweets are both childlike as they offer a sense of wonderment, but mainly because they help the physical being of a man. And by following up Count Fusco’s reading, it almost feels like she is describing him as childlike but also a man with power, who knows how to use his childlike innocence to get what he wants.

To then circle back to Count Fosco (ew), he is described as the man who could “tame anything” and has a “rod of iron with which he rules her…it is a private rod, and is always kept upstairs”. Following this quote, he is described as a “good-humored father, ” juxtaposing the “rod” image. Using the lens of the Laura Eastlake piece, these paints Count Fosco in an even worse light. If we are assuming that sugar made The Count “unmasculine” and “un-British” she is pointing out his “otherness” in being a foreigner, implying he is not masculine as he enjoys sugar just a little too much and those around him may not accept him because he is not British. But if we are then using her contradictory statement, the “rod…with which he rules her” insinuates a dominatrix-type attitude, where he is ruling over his wife and other women in his company. This imagery within itself is disturbing as he is now painted as this father figure who likes sugar just a little bit too much and rules over women in bed with a rod. This now changes the way in which I personally read Count Fosco, as I didn’t like him before, but I certainly don’t like him now. This may be completely incorrect, but I would like to know if this somehow connects back to Collins, as we had discussed in class that he has some ties to the story, as well as hypnotism as a cure for various issues. Did he personally relate to Count Fosco? Was he writing Count Fosco based on someone he knew or who he wished he could be? Overall, The Count is not a pleasant person, but I would like to know how he connects back to Collins