Class Blog – Page 4 – Victorian Sexualities

Walter Hartright Tries to Sigmund Freud His Way into Solving a Mystery

Our first narrator in the novel, Walter Hartright, is completely obsessed with solving the mystery of the Woman in White. Both scenes in which he encounters her involve some level of psychoanalysis on the part of Walter. The motivating factor in his conversations with the woman in white (revealed to be Anne Catherick) involve understanding her past- who she is, where she came from, and what has happened to her to make her act the way she does. In “Remembering, Repeating, and Working Through”, Sigmund Freud outlines the phases of psychoanalytic treatment which lead to the discovery of the point of origin for a patient’s symptoms. This begins by encouraging the patient to remember forgotten memories, which leads to the patient’s repetition of past events or erratic behaviors and finally allowing them time to work through and process these sensations, overcoming the symptoms (Freud). In a way, Walter Hartright practices psychoanalysis in his observations of all characters, but most predominantly in conversations with Anne. By pressing her with questions meant to unlock her memory, leading her to produce repetitive and erratic behaviors, Walter is able to piece together parts of her story.

Walter’s interest in discovering the mystery of Anne Catherick begins upon their first meeting on the road to London in the middle of the night. Walter immediately wants to know more about her, automatically acting under the assumption that there is a truth beneath the surface that is hidden. He comes to this conclusion by analyzing the way she answers his questions; when he inquires about her destination, she repeatedly asks him “not to interfere with me”, asking five times very quickly “will you promise?”, until he responds with “yes” (26). Walter reads this behavior as mysterious because of its rapid repetition and panicked nature, leading him to dig further into psychoanalysis of Anne’s character as he attempts to discover the source of her panic. When he meets Anne for the second time in the graveyard, Walter further pushes his psychoanalytic investigation, asking more and more pressing questions until Anne begins to exhibit behaviors triggered by memories. When he questions her about Sir Percival Glyde, he reads her reaction to the name as a symptom- “the shriek at the name, the reiterated look of hatred and fear that instantly followed, told all” (105). He believes that his question has triggered some repressed memory of Anne’s, her reaction to which will be able to tell him what he needs to know both about her character and about Sir Percival’s. Walter’s tendency towards psychoanalysis is reflected in his interactions with several other characters, but most prominently towards Anne, emphasizing the intrigue and mystery of her character that creates the sensation of the novel.

The Dog’s Warning

“The little beast, cowardly and cross-grained, as pet-dogs usually are, looked up at him sharply, shrank away from his outstretched hand, whined, shivered, and hid itself under a sofa. It was scarcely possible that he could have been put out by such a trifle as a dog’s reception of him, but I observed, nevertheless, that he walked away towards the window very suddenly. Perhaps his temper is irritable at times. If so, I can sympathise with him. My temper is irritable at times too.” (133)

This passage stuck out to me as it is the second time this dog is mentioned, although both are just brief. I believe it is the companion of Miss Farlie, as earlier in the novel Hartwrite refers to it as “the pet companion of all her walks” (92). Dogs are often symbols of loyalty. This dog shows itself to be loyal to Miss Fairlie as not being friendly towards Sir Percival, a man whom Miss Farlie also does not show warmth to. Sir Percival reaches out to the dog as an extension of trust, but the dog does not reciprocate and instead follows this act by hiding. This dog is also characterized as scared and lesser than, while he is the only creature who is properly understanding Sir Percival’s intentions. While the reader already has a negative impression of him so far, this furthers the narrative that Sir Percival is going to be an antagonist in the story.

Gilmore also claims to be observant, yet seems to not realize the suspicious maneuver of Sir Percival to the windows, he instead thinks this must be due to irritability. This movement of his is also a slight slip of the facade that he has been putting on. He insists that he has nothing to hide and up until this point has exuded confidence. This slip, although it goes right over Gilmore’s head, alludes to the reader that he is hiding something despite no human being able to pick up on it yet. This theme furthers the “reading between the lines” narrative that the book is doing. Just as the reader can discern Sir Percival’s hidden intentions through small clues, this scene suggests that the characters themselves must learn to “read between the lines” to uncover hidden truths themselves.

The Indignant Interrogator in “The Woman in White”

Essential to upholding gender roles during the Victorian era included the emphasis on domesticity for women (Christ 2006, 992). Though, too, the concept of “New Womanhood” brought alternative responses to the rigid gender norms. Resorted to the kitchen and to the private sphere of the home, women’s responsibilities were to construct the home itself and the people within it. Being a child’s primary caretaker, it seemed women and children were one and one. Though, in The Woman in White, the mother-child relationship is revealed differently. With this particular scene, Marian, lacking children of her own, interacts with a schoolboy or rather interrogates him. Caught in the midst of her response to the boy, “her face crimsoned with indignation—she turned upon little Jacob with an angry suddenness which terrified him into a fresh burst of tears—opened her lips to speak to him—then controlled herself—and addressed the master instead of the boy” (Collins 2011, 88). Marian’s clear “angry suddenness” and “indignation” in response to the previous line of questioning towards the boy reveals her emotional state around a child. She, in one sense, understands the power imbalance of an adult speaking down to a child as the boy is “terrified” of her to the point of a physical emotional response of breaking into “tears.” Yet, in another sense, Marian treats the schoolboy as her equal, interrogating him like an adult and feeling as though she can speak with such “indignation” and “suddenness.”

It is as if up to this point in conversation Marian has not recognized how “terrified” the boy is because she is blind to the power imbalance a parent and child might endure. She ignores the differences in gender and age dynamics or perhaps she does the exact opposite—using her position as a masculine coded woman to pry information out of someone younger than her. She understands how power operates and her glimpse into possessing that power is squashed by her self-control. The literary dashes are telling of Marian’s mental operations—her mind simultaneously pausing to rethink just as the text implores the reader to do the same. Just as she opens “her lips” to voice her power over the boy, she stops herself.

That preemptive control preventing her from continuing her line of aggressive questioning that women do not typically make reveals an ingrained behavior to check herself. Societal demand of women always being controlled caught up to her in this moment. Her emotional “suddenness” also becomes a “suddenness” to remember her obligations as a woman—to respond to the male master and remind herself of the normative gender and age power hierarchies defining societies of the time. Instead of caring for a child, she interrogates one and in doing so Collins suggests that her understanding of power hierarchies between children-adult and between male-female and her breaking of it is constantly met with her own society fueled initiatives to prevent such forward thinking.

References

Christ, C. T., & Robson, C. (2006). The Norton Anthology of English Literature: The Victorian Age (8th ed., Vol. E). W.W. Norton.

Collins, W. (2011). Woman in White. Penguin Classics.

Water Color? I Hardly Know Her: Subliminal Sexuality in “The Woman in White”

As Mr. Walter Hartright confesses his love for Miss Laura Fairlie, his latent sexual desires bubble to the surface. Hartright reluctantly admits to the reader that Laura has led him away from the “narrow path” of propriety and respectability (Collins 66). His “situation in life” usually acts as “a guarantee against any of [his] female pupils feeling more than the most ordinary interest in [him],” but Laura is an exception to this rule (66). In Hartright’s mind, she experiences the same “unacknowledged sensations” that he does (67). These shared sensations imbue each of their interactions with an electric sexual energy, regardless of how innocent they may appear on the surface.

In a society where physical contact is frowned upon, even the shadow of a touch can arouse excitement. When Hartright recalls shaking Laura’s hand each “night and morning,” he acknowledges the eroticism in the slightest brush of their fingertips (66). To him, this ritual is not a mere formality; it represents a temporary transgression of social norms. If even for a moment, Hartright can feel Laura’s skin against his own. Their drawing lessons adopt a similarly sexual charge. Hartright cannot get “close to [Laura’s] bosom” without “trembl[ing] at the thought of touching it” (65). He longs to feel “the warm fragrance of her breath” on his skin (65). His body thrills as she watches “every movement” of his phallic “brush” on the canvas (65). It is reasonable to believe that these close encounters feed Hartright’s fantasies “in the quiet and seclusion of [his] own room” (64). He must keep his “hands and eyes pleasurably employed” to avoid other, even more pleasurable employments (64). Sin encroaches, and sexuality threatens to invite it into the most hidden recesses of the heart.

Other domestic acts and subtle word choices also imply sexual connotations. When Hartright claims that he “always notice[s] and remember[s] the little changes in [Laura’s] dress,” for instance, he inadvertently admits that he ogles at her body (66). Hartright considers Laura’s figure as alluring as a “Syren-song” (66). In many nineteenth-century paintings, these seabound seductresses are depicted without a shred of clothing; perhaps Hartright imagines his beloved in much the same way. One thing can be said with certainty, however; with Laura around, the “monotony of life” becomes “delicious” (66). This adjective choice invokes kissing, licking, and other erotic activities involving the mouth. The days become so sweet that they beg to be consumed. Perhaps, in Hartright’s eyes, the same occurs with Laura’s body.

Once considered “a harmless domestic animal,” Hartright evolves into a tertiary sexual predator (66). It only takes one encounter with erotic possibility for Hartright to discard his “hardly-earned self-control” as if he “had never possessed it” at all (66). As Hartright himself points out, the very same happens “to other men, in other critical situations, where women are concerned” (66). Collins demonstrates how quickly propriety crumbles under the immense weight of passion. As the novel progresses, I am curious to see if sexual desire is strong enough to fracture other Victorian customs, particularly the reticence surrounding the erotic.

Freud & The Sensation Novel

Freud says, “At the same time one willingly leaves untouched as much of the patient’s personal freedom as is compatible with these restrictions, nor does one hinder him from carrying out unimportant intentions, even if they are foolish; one does not forget that it is in fact only through his own experience and mishaps that a person learns sense.” (Freud, 153). This passage concerns the vastness of human will and our capabilities to act based on individual experience. Meaning, Humans learn critical thinking skills and emotional intelligence by keeping track of their senses, in connection to what they are feeling. The language in my chosen passage from the novel uses repetition of the phrases “Nature” and “human interest” more than twice in its entirety. The word “Nature” is said 4 times in this passage, which made me think of autonomy and how each individual is fueled by their own interests, heightened by our senses in literature. The concept of the sensation novel is evident in this excerpt because the point of view of perception is independent of nature and perceiving one’s surroundings.

Diving deeper into the text, Collins writes, “Those lives are most exclusively passed amid the ever-changing wonders of sea and land are also those who are most universally insensible to every aspect of Nature not directly associated with the human interest of their calling. Our capacity of appreciating the beauties of the earth we live on is, in truth, one of the civilized accomplishments that we all learn as an Art; and, more, that very capacity is rarely practiced by any of us except when our minds are most indolent and most unoccupied.” (WIW, 30). I found this quote quite compelling, concerning Freud’s idea of “obsessional neurosis,” (149) getting rid of different “thought-connections” involving phantasies, emotional impulses, experiences, and senses. The sensation novel is comprised of ‘obsessional neurosis” and the five senses to make sense of who we are and our relationship to the world around us. Art is Nature, Nature is Art, and Art is created by Nature which can be manipulated by the human.

“Unexplained Feelings” and Paying Attention to Subtext in The Woman in White

Throughout the first third of The Woman in White “unexplainable feelings” often become entirely explainable. Walter Hartright’s first unexplainable uneasiness upon the prospect of his going to teach at Limmeridge House is enlightened given his disastrous love for Miss Fairlie. His unexplainable tension upon first seeing Miss Fairlie is realized when he at last connects her similarities with Anne Catherick. These “unexplainable” feelings have generally been found to be very explainable, when the situation is placed in the correct context. Mr. Gilmore’s obliviousness over the situation between Walter and Laura during Mr. Hartright’s last night at Limmeridge House is an excellent example of dramatic irony; the reader understands the situation the character is confused about.

When Miss Halcombe is obliged (perhaps coerced is the better word here) by Percival Glyde to write a letter to Anne Catherick’s mother, his behavior seems entirely by-the-book to Mr. Gilmore, but it is clear to the reader that Mrs. Halcombe doubts his character despite herself. She had “a certain hesitation of manner,” and “looked uneasy” (WIW, 132). There are small moments in the text that reinforce the importance of paying attention to “unexplainable uneasiness,” regardless of what a character is trying to convince themselves of – here, it is Percival’s upstanding character. The reader is encouraged to trust observations before the character’s feelings, and try to separate the two the best they can.

An excellent example of this is Percival’s interaction with Miss Fairlie’s dog. The reader has observed, along with Mr. Hartright in his account of events, that the dog is loyal to her mistress; she always accompanies Laura on walks, and the dog is “pressed against her dress impatiently for notice and encouragement,” when Walter observes her from his window. Even as Mr. Gilmore is entirely convinced (or determined to convince himself) that Percival is a good man, he still details his observations; when Percival “good-humouredly” calls out to the dog, she instead “shrank away from his outstretched hand, whined, shivered, and hid itself under a sofa… As he opened the door, the [dog] poked out her sharp muzzle… and barked and snapped at him” (133-134). This makes the reader question what is real and what is not: we haven’t seen the dog interact beyond Walter’s observance of her with Miss Fairlie; perhaps this is just how she behaves.

Mr. Gilmore entirely attributes this behavior to the dog, but Miss Halcombe hesitates around him; Anne Catherick sent a warning letter; Walter is suspicious of Percival’s character – the investigation is ongoing. How much of the doubt can be attributed to easy explanations: young, foolish love between Walter and Laura; Anne Catherick’s mental illness; Marianne’s desire to see her sister in a happy relationship? Mr. Gilmore has thus far described Percival’s behavior as entirely morally upstanding. Walter and Miss Halcombe have received no concrete proof their suspicions are founded in fact. And yet the dog cowers away and snaps at him. When Mr. Gilmore himself later approaches Miss Fairlie and her dog on his own, he expects the dog to snap at him, too. Instead, “the whimsical little brute falsified [his] expectations by jumping into [his] lap, and poking its sharp muzzle familiarly into [his] hand” (141). Who is a better judge of character: Mr. Gilmore, or the dog?

When Mr. Gilmore leaves his meeting with Laura, he recalls that though he had entered the room “believing Sir Percival Glyde had fair reason to complain of the manner in which she was treating him… [he] left it, secretly hoping that matters might end in her taking him at his word and claiming her release” (145). By the end of his account, Mr. Gilmore has completely changed his attitude towards Percival – “no daughter of mine should have been married to any man alive under such a settlement as I was compelled to make for Laura Fairlie” (161). Character’s “unexplained feelings” or suspicions are often validated by the surrounding subtext – Anne and Laura’s white clothing, and the dog’s behavior are examples of this. The unreliability of narrators in this novel serves to encourage the reader to pay closer attention to what is written between the lines. What is real, and what is imagined? Paying attention to patterns and “unexplainable feelings” will very likely yield explanations in due time, if this trend stays consistent.

Mr. Hartright’s Understanding of Femininity

Throughout the novel, Collins places a significant amount of emphasis on the inherent differences between men and women and what traits he views as acceptable or normal for men and women to have. This is highlighted through his description of Marian Halcombe when Mr. Hartright sees her for the first time. While he is first drawn in by her body, his perceptions of her quickly shift when he sees her face. Mr. Hartright uses the term ‘masculine’ several times to describe Miss Halcombe’s facial features, and he implies that these are undesirable features that he is “almost repelled” by (35). It seems as if Mr. Hartright views Miss Halcombe’s feminine body and masculine face as two things that simply cannot exist at the same time. He does this by saying that “to see such a face as this set on shoulders that a sculptor would have longed to model […] was to feel a sensation oddly akin to the helpless discomfort familiar to us all in sleep, when we recognize yet cannot reconcile the anomalies and contradictions of dreams” (35). These ‘contradictions’ that Mr. Hartright is facing seem to be confusing his idea of what a woman should look like.

Miss Halcombe’s facial expressions also appear to go against Mr. Hartright’s perceptions of femininity. He states that “her expression – bright, frank, and intelligent – appeared, while she was silent, to be altogether wanting in those feminine attractions of gentleness and pliability, without which the beauty of the handsomest woman alive is beauty incomplete” (35). Mr. Hartright views intelligence and frankness as traits that are un-womanlike and instead sees submissiveness as a more desirable trait. In Mr. Hartright’s opinion, no woman is truly beautiful unless she is ‘gentle’ and ‘pliable.’ Mr. Hartright’s opinions on what traits are acceptable for a woman are typical of the time, as many believed that the role of a woman was to be selfless and care for men. Throughout this passage and as the novel continues, it almost seems like Mr. Hartright views Miss Halcombe as less of a woman because of the contradiction or lack of femininity in her personality and physical appearance.

Anne Catherick’s Terrifying Touch and the Fear of Female Sexuality

While Anne Catherick is initially described by Hartright as appearing modest rather than sexual, there is nevertheless something sexual about their connection. Anne originally catches Hartright’s attention by touching his shoulder. The word “touch” is emphasized several times, as Anne tells Hartright “I was obliged to steal after you, and touch you” (25). Hartright immediately emphasizes her word choice by pointing out the oddness of how she caught his attention– “Steal after me, and touch me? Why not call to me? Strange, to say the least of it” (25). Mere sentences later, Hartright uses “touch” in an emotional context: “The loneliness and helplessness of the woman touched me” (25). While “touch” in this instance refers to invoking sympathy, the repeated usage of “touch” suggests that this traditionally feminine image of a helpless woman is an image Hartright is physically attracted to.

In the graveyard, Anne touches Hartright’s shoulder once more, and Hartright describes it as “a welcome interruption to be roused by” (97). “Welcome” suggests Hartright has a desire for her to touch him, or at least he enjoys it when she does. Further, following the line of thought that Victorian novels are always talking about sex in subtle, round-about ways, the sexual connotations of the word “roused” seem to very intentionally imply that Hartright is sexually aroused when Anne touches him.

Interestingly, Anne’s touch is also something that Hartright associates with fear. The emphasis on Heartright’s bodily feelings of terror, such as “petrified me from head to foot,” emphasize this connection between sexual attraction and fear. Her touches are always unexpected– “stealthy and sudden”– expressing the unexpectedness of a modest-looking woman provoking such sexual feelings (97). Anne’s description as a modest-looking woman, dressed in all white (a color associated with purity and chastity), and her fragile mental state all emulate traditional ideas of femininity. Hartright’s attraction to this “weak” womanly image suggests an idea that is terrifying and dangerous to men. No matter how innocent a woman looks, she can still gain sexual power over him.

Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who is the “fairest and fattest” of them all?

When Mr. Pesca tells the story of how he scored Mr. Hartright a new job, he describes everyone in the family of the “fine house” where he teaches “fair and fat”, with the “…Papa [being] the fairest and the fattest of all … [and] a mighty merchant, up to his eyes in gold…” (Collins 16). Mr. Pesca continues to describe the Papa, saying he was “…a fine man once, but seeing that he has got a naked head and two chins, fine no longer at the present time” (Collins 16). This passage seems to connect to the idea of consumption and imperialism from “Brother Jacob”. The Papa is a merchant, and I think it can be assumed that he deals with goods imported from the British colonies. The second part of this passage seems like it can be read as a critique of imperialism and extraction. While this man is gaining rich from exploiting the people and resources from the colonies, he is losing his aesthetic value, just like the colonies are losing their resources and the people there are losing their freedom.

I think it might be possible to read into the critique of imperialism in other aspects of this book as well. The men in Anne Catherick’s life try to control her by locking her in an asylum. When Hartright first meets Anne on the road, she asks him to help her get to London, and then let her leave. Hartright agrees and follows through with his promise, even though he is worried about her (Collins 30). This lack of control or domination separates Hartright from the other men in the novel (besides Pesca). Sir Percival Glyde, like the Papa, is one of the imperializing men in the novel, and like the Papa, he has some physical affliction that shows that; his cough and scar (as Anne mentions in her letter) (Collins 80).

Ms. Halcombe is another character with physical attributes that are seen as hindering her aesthetic value (“The lady is ugly! [Collins 34]). She does not seem to be very imperializing though, and I’m not sure what to make of her role in my reading of the novel so far. Maybe because she embraces the class of the Fairlies, wearing the fancy clothes, she is seen as an accomplice or at least someone gaining something from British imperialism?

Hartright’s Desire for Purity and Sex

Hartright’s narration between pages 64 and 65 of the growing attraction between him and Miss Fairlie demonstrates the pull between sexual desires and desires for female purity. Although Hartright repeats certain phrases to mirror his and Miss Fairlie’s movements, moments of halfway connections also characterize the passage. Hartright says that his lover’s charms “…can purify and subdue the heart of man” (Collins 64). He contextualizes her traits through the effect on his traits; he admires her for her ability to distract him from his character flaws. Instead of specifying that the “man” described him, Hartright broadens the scope to include any man. This enlarges her powers to “subdue the heart,” making her the paragon of purity who can inherently “fix” any man.

Bearing the precedent of Hartright’s vision of a pure Miss Fairlie, their subsequent moments of physical sexual yearning stall at several points. Hartright writes “Not a day passed…in which my hand was not close to Miss Fairlie’s; my cheek…almost touching hers” (Collins 64). The pair purposefully do not contact skin to skin, but Hartright emphasizes the thrill he receives from the teasing closeness. Besides the references to his cheek, and he also notes “…the perfume of her hair, and the warm fragrance of her breath” (Collins 65). These references to hair, cheek, and breath all encircle a key feature on her face that Hartright fails to mention: her lips or mouth. Although Hartright arrives close to this feature when describing her breath, he refuses to focus on the most sensual part of a woman’s body, a part that has been hallowed in countless romantic works of prose and poetry. Even in a scene rife with sensual details, the lack of references to lips or mouth stands as a gaping hole. Obviously, Hartright would have noticed her mouth, but then made the conscious choice not to write it. Hartright enjoys these moments of halfway connection because they preserve his vision of her purity; having sex, even kissing would break the imagined barrier that separates Miss Fairlie from other, more promiscuous women.

However, Miss Fairlie shares Hartirght’s affection, and the pair demonstrate their affection by mirroring each other’s actions. He describes the scene by writing “…at one time bending over her…to feel her bending over me, bending so close to see what I was all about…” (Collins 65). He uses the same word choice to describe the same movement, as if the two lovers had become intertwined into one. Repeating the same phrase three times causes a building sense of closeness, with every iteration increasing the number of times that they meet and even increasing how close together the bend brings the two. “… to see what I was all about….” presents a possible moment of innuendo. Its vagueness regarding what she looks at could point a look at his body.