Category: 360: Victorian Sexualities

As we have discussed extensively in class, Wilkie Collins narrative presents ambiguities and blurred lines in every aspect of the text (i.e. characters’ motives, narrative structure, plot twists and elements). One element that Dever addresses in her critique of Collins’ works is the nature of his consistent derivation from the traditional marriage plot. In discussing The Woman in White specifically, he focalizes on the most significant ambiguity of the novel: the relationship between Marian, Walter, and Laura and their “love-triangle,” as we would call it today. She describes that, “Collins produces erotically pluralist novels under the protective, authorizing cover of the conventional marriage plot. He uses the form against itself, turning the marriage plot inside out to feature affirmative, loving, nonmarital bonds” (114). Although only broadly concentrating the relationships in The Woman in White, Dever correctly establishes a main reason behind the “pluralist” nature of Collins narrative. I was interested in this pluralism, though, and what exactly contributed to this in the text through the character developments specifically. One major factor to this triangular romance lies in the deeper relationship between Marian and Walter.

Although Walter and Laura do ultimately end up together, the friendship that grows between Walter and Marian remains a profound and intellectual bond. Nowhere else over the course of the narrative do we see these two characters talk to other characters in the manner that they talk to one another. Of course, the idea that Marian and Walter could ever be a couple is one that has been completely discarded from the very start of the text, since her introduction as a very masculine female character, something that continues to be emphasized throughout the narrative.

Nevertheless, Marian and Walter engage in a very marital-like discourse in many instances. For example, after Marian has been ill and weak for a period of time, yet she and Walter must decide on a new course of action for the two of them and Laura, the two of them share a discourse as Marian cleans the house: “She dashed [the tears] away with a touch of her old energy, and smiled with a faint reflexion of her good spirits. ‘Don’t doubt my courage, Walter,’ she pleaded, ‘it’s my weakness that cries, not me. The house work shall conquer it if I can’t.’ And she kept her word – the victory was won when we met in the evening, and she sat down to rest. Her large steady black eyes looked at me with a flash of their bright firmness of bygone days” (433). The first component of how the reader views this relationship rests in the manner in which Walter describes Marian’s actions and her appearance. He remains very endearing towards her, almost to a point of pity in this passage, as he consistently addresses her “firmness of bygone days” or the “touch of her old energy.” Furthermore, he once again addresses her “black eyes,” a reminder as to how incompatible Marian is as a woman for not just Walter but for any man. Marian’s dialogue to Walter is then the next important element to their relationship. She very assertively says to him “don’t doubt my courage.” This shows how much Marian can not only read Walter but also respond so honestly to what she knows him to be thinking. This reflects the nature of, if not a married couple, then a very close pair, and the intuitions that each could have about the other. Marian and Walter’s relationship still remains the most interesting to me in the novel and going in depth to explore then Walter and Laura and Marian and Laura’s relationships would be fascinating to bring together and how they all prove so directly Dever’s statement about Collins’ works.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jwFe2KBc3Qw

Just a little something from my angsty phase in high school. The lyrics in the video are a little off, but they’re pretty clear when you listen.

“The Lady of Shalott.” Written and Performed by Emilie Autumn. Released September 2006 on the album Opheliac. 

Marriage was one of the most debated topics during the Victorian Era and it is interesting to see how Collins developed his personal idea on this issue throughout The Woman in White.  Marriage is a recurring theme in this novel, however, it is clear that Collins has a preference for unusual marriage plots which oppose the typical Victorian ideal. As Carolyn Denver states in her essay, there are “different meanings of “marriage” itself – as a legal contract, as a means of regulating sexual desire, as a method of property transmission, as a set of emotional bonds – he (Collins) undermines the fundamental presumption that the concept is founded on the union of a man and a woman.” (Denver, 112) We can find proof to support this claim both in the representation of the sisterly love between Marian and Laura, which is described as being more than a fraternal relationship and leaning towards a same-sex couple, even though not explicitly stated in the novel, and through recurring themes of illegitimate children and adultery throughout the novel.

One being the exact opposite of the other, Laura the vulnerable and weak woman who embodies the Victorian stereotype and Marian her intelligent and outspoken counterpart, they almost complete each other as if they were actually a real and conventional couple. Marian’s masculinity, which is present not only in her physical appearance but also in her personality, does confirm this thought and therefore becomes “a masculine companion for Walter and a feminine one for Laura” (Denver, 114) in this strange triangular love between Laura, Walter and Marian herself.

However, Collins does not stop here in his dismantling of the conventional marriage plot. The representation of illegitimate relationships and children is an important factor as well in the development of the narration. As we already know, scandals were starting to make their first appearance in newspapers during the Victorian Era and the presence of a scandal in a novel aimed to teach “punitive lessons, often deliberately intended to induce conformity in its audience” (the Victorian web). This lesson we can infer from Collins’ portrayal of illegitimacy and adultery conveys the idea that illegitimate children are doomed to a tragic end because of their status and their parents’ mistakes. Through both the figures of Anne and Sir Percival who struggle with mental insanity and violent outbursts of anger, Collins displays his want “to anchor legitimate marriage and to align illegitimacy with lunacy. Serving as a force of sexual regulation, the novel hints that extramarital sex might produce a new generation of Glydes and Annes.” (Denver, 114)

However, while he deals with adultery as something reproachable and to be condemned, exactly as Victorian society wanted, he does not seem to question or condemn the children of the marriage between Walter and Laura. Under the surface of a stereotypical marriage, lies in fact this scandalous triangular love which however seems not to undermine the transfer of property, since Walter’s son is presented in the end as “the Heir of Limmeridge” (Collins, 627).

As the title suggests, the central characters in The Woman in White surround marriage and brides.  What is interesting about the novel is though marriage is the only acceptable social and legal communion between man and woman in the Victorian era, Collins’ presents marriage “as [the] sinkhole of deception, hostility, abuse” (Dever, 114) and illegal activity that is naturally present in male-female relations.

If we examine the conventional marriages in the novel, there is a clear male-dominated, female-directed ownership and exploitation that is justified in the name of property laws.  The most obvious of these is Laura’s marriage to Sir Percival.  The central marriage of the novel is motivated by the man’s desire to secure the monetary inheritances of his wife.

A side note here: traditional Victorian marriages typically joined a man and a woman of similar economic and social standing.  For instance, Laura’s father would never have arranged her marriage to a middle class, blue-collared worker because quite frankly his name would not deserve the Fairlie Estate and he would not be able to provide for his wife in a reciprocal nature.

Back to the point: When we realize that Sir Percival “was not Sir Percival Glyde at all, that he had no more claim to the baronetcy and to Blackwater Park than the poorest labourer who worked on the estate,” it becomes clear that he intended to absorb Laura’s property through the justification of marriage (510).  What otherwise would have been illegal (Percival’s right to aristocratic inheritance) is warranted by the sanctity of mariage.

We see similar questionable, if not illegal, manipulations in the Fosco marriage.  Throughout Walter’s investigations it is revealed that Count Fosco is associated with an illegal organization referred to as ‘The Brotherhood’ (574). And from what we’ve seen of Madame Fosco’s obedience to the Count, it can be assumed that she has been used and manipulated by the Count either to protect his identity or to further his illegal agenda.  When he writes his confessions he also admits to his control over his wife: “I ask, if a woman’s marriage obligations, in this country, provide for her private opinion of her husband’s principles? No! They charge her unreservedly to love, honor, and obey him” (612).  Clearly, Madame Fosco was not allowed to think or act independently within the marriage, so her illegal associations with The Brotherhood were a direct consequence of man’s ownership of woman.  Through her marriage to Fosco, Madame Fosco was legally contracted to act as the instrument for her husband’s illegal endeavors.

Even Mrs. Rubelle’s marriage ties her to illegal activity.  Her husband’s relation to Fosco directly linked Mrs. Rubelle’s interests to the Count’s if by nothing other than her marriage (598, 603).  And so Mrs. Rubelle becomes an active member of the illegal identity-swap of Anne and Laura for the legal benefit to both Sir Percival and the Count.

But women are also exploited when involved in extramarital male-female affairs.  The male-domination and manipulation of women is “natural” in a society where women are second class, but it seems that outside of marriage they are given no legal safety net for this abuse.   For one, Mrs. Catherick births an illegitimate daughter in exploitation by Mr. Fairlie’s sexual desire.  This consequently leads Mrs. Catherick to a life of isolation and societal rejection.  And on an unrelated occasion, she is also used by Sir Percival as a means to execute a criminal scheme to which she is held accountable until the day Sir Percival dies (532-533).

In fact, critics of The Woman in White including Carolyn Dever, cite homosexual and bisexual relations as the only ‘marriages’ that do not hinge on this unbalance between partners and abuse of women as men’s property.  More specifically, Dever writes that the sisterly love between Laura and Marian is “affirmative, loving,” mutual, and respectable (void of an illegal activity and exploitation) (114).  And so it appears that it is the legal and social sanctity of male-female marriages and relations that permit abuse and the less socially and much less legally acceptable sanction of female-female relations that allow for the freedoms of life and liberty.

During his study of the human psyche, Sigmund Freud concluded that it was divided into three separate parts: The Id, the Ego, and the Superego. It is quite common for these parts of the mind to come into conflict, and while it is often an internal struggle, we are able to observe these struggles through first person narration. In The Woman in White we are able to see this struggle through the compilation and narration of Walter Hartright.

On the first page of the novel, Walter prevails upon the reader to consider the tale he is telling as a judge might consider a case.  What he is trying to prove, we do not yet know, but we are led to believe that  he is endeavoring to provide the most accurate depiction of what occurred as possible.  Indeed, Walter says at the bottom of that first page,

Thus, the story here presented will be told by more than one pen….with the same object…to present the truth always in its most direct and most intelligible aspect; and to trace the course of one complete series of events. (Collins, 9)

This also suggests that the individuals Walter is including are to be considered reliable in their accounts of events.

By the conclusion of the novel, however, the validity of these opening lines is called into question.  At the end of the pages included of Marian’s diary is a “Postscript by a Sincere Friend” who on later pages we find out to be Count Fosco. The contents of Marian’s diary are extremely condemning to the Count and Sir Percival, so it is not outside of reason to assume that he potentially altered some of the contents of her writing, rendering it unreliable and thus unusable in the constraints of a court of law.  Also, Walter tells us as we near the end of the tale that he has changed all of the names of the individuals involved in the book to protect their privacy.  If he has changed one thing about the tale, is it not possible, or even probable, that he has changed more as well?

I believe that it is very likely that he did, and that the inclusion of the damning material are manifestations of his conflicting Ego and Superego.  When the Ego and Superego come into conflict, they battle over what is possibly attainable and whether it is right to attain it or not (Conflict Chart, The Victorian Web).  What we can assume Walter desires is the rights to Limmeridge house, and that he is providing this account as a means of acquiring it.  This is a manifestation of his Ego.  However, his Superego intervenes, knowing his claim is false, and that pretending it is not is wrong.  Thus, Walter’s Superego prompts him to include the information that would prove him false, because it is the right thing to do.

Now that we have reached the end of The Woman in White, I see Walter and Laura’s relationship in a completely different light.  At one point I found his sentimental asides about Laura to be tender and affectionate.  But upon taking another look, they seem more cringe-worthy than anything.  This passage in particular is a perfect example:

“Think of her as you thought of the first woman who quickened the pulses within you that the rest of her sex had no art to stir…Take her as a visionary nursling of your own fancy; and she will grow upon you, all the more clearly, as the living woman who dwells in mine” (52).

Laura Fairlie has been generalized.  Walter has molded her into this blank relatable figure in which everyone can use to reflect their own experiences.  As we have discussed as a class, Laura Fairlie, for her entire existence in novel, serves as an empty vessel in which characters see their own desires.  Walter does not change this.  In fact, he perpetuates it. She serves as a gateway to wealth and property for Sir Percival.  And for Walter she is no different.  The artist sees Laura as a blank canvas to paint and color however he pleases.

At one point, Walter describes “the water-colour drawing [he] made of Laura Fairlie” decorating his desk (51).  He describes her as a “light, youthful figure” whose “hair is so faint and a pale a brown—not flaxen, and yet almost as light; not golden, and yet almost as glossy—that is nearly melts here and there, into the shadow of the hat” (51).  The Laura that is being described to us isn’t Laura the person, but rather the Laura that Walter sees her as and wants her to be—Laura the decoration.  She is light, and faint.  Like her hair color, she is there but not quite.  She is even being described from a painting—Walter’s painting.  She is not real.

This excerpt is clearly written from after the events of the novel have occurred at an “after period” when Laura and Walter are married and living at Limmeridge, so why describe a painting of Laura when he could have looked at her actual person?  Because to Walter, she exists as an embodiment of the perfect wife—he doesn’t want to see her as a real person. Walter explicitly states in the main passage above that Laura “dwells” in his “fancy” (52).  The person he wants her to be exists in his imagination only.  The real Laura is repressed.

William Rathbone Greg argued adamantly for the marriage of all women.  His problem was with the “redundant woman”—the unmarried woman who could do what she wanted.  The redundant woman could earn money, forgo the “natural duties” of womanhood, and speak her mind.  Marriage was the solution.  Marriage tethered women to men, eradicated them of their own identity, and turned them into a reproductive machines.  Laura is Greg’s ideal married woman.  She has effectively been silenced and repressed by her marriage—reduced to a watercolor painting adorning her husband’s desk.

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.