Category: 360: Victorian Sexualities

Mr. Gilmore repeatedly reveals himself as partial to Sir Percival, to the point of almost willful blindness to signs of his faults. This is exemplified in his description of Laura’s dog: “Her cross-grained pet greyhound was in the room, and I fully expected a barking and snapping reception. Strange to say, the whimsical little brute falsified my expectations by jumping into my lap, and poking its sharp muzzle familiarly into my hand the moment I sat down,” (141). This comment directly refers to the earlier scene in which the dog barks at Sir Percival’s offered hand, and through comparison Mr. Gilmore opens himself to the possibility of seeing through Sir Percival’s gentleman persona, but instead redirects his conclusion in the wrong direction.

Drawing from the trope of dogs being able to sense evil characters, the initial incident with Sir Percival is a clue to his masked dubious character. He more easily disguises his interior self from other people, who have ingrained expectations about gentlemen and infer inward morality from outward presentation, than from the dog. Mr. Gilmore, instead of recognizing its perception, dismisses the dog as a “little beast, cowardly and cross-grained as pet-dogs usually are” (133), to fit the interaction into his previously established worldview. Mr. Gilmore has already given hints that he began his judgment with preconceived notions, as when he described the explanation Sir Percival gave as “simple and satisfactory as I had all along anticipated it would be,” (130). Now, he continues in that trend by misinterpreting the dog’s reactions.

The simplest explanation of the scenario, that being two men both acquainted with a dog, one met with fear and the other with affection, lends easily to the assumption that the first man has given the dog a reason to be distrustful. Mr. Gilmore, however, concludes from this scenario that the dog is “whimsical,” and therefore irrational in its reaction to Sir Percival. This conclusion allows him to continue on without yet being disabused of his expectations of Sir Percival, despite the evidence at hand.

This passage is really about the extent to which expectations based on wealth, power, and gender can influence all later perceptions of actual actions. Sir Percival has been afforded a place in society that allows him to pass without suspicion through most people’s judgments, particularly other men like Mr. Gilmore, who appears predisposed to sweeping generalizations about groups of people (“There are three things that none of the young men of the present generation can do” (128)). He comes assured from the start that Sir Percival will be able to provide a reasonable explanation for the accusations against him, and in fact dismisses Mr. Hartright’s suspicions to the contrary as romantic.

The descriptions of the dog also play into themes of appearance and expectation; Mr. Gilmore expects for the dog to be nasty but it instead reveals itself to be calm and loving, just as Anne Catherick acts animalistic and irrational when Sir Percival is brought up, but is otherwise sweet and docile.  Sir Percival, then, distorts the public perception of those whom he needs to discredit because they know the truth of his character, by simple virtue of remaining calm and unruffled as he provokes extreme emotional reactions (with Anne, this occurs when he gives his seemingly rational explanation for the accusations against him). Both the dog and Anne are voiceless to general society and thus unable to defend themselves in their reactions to Sir Percival, and both are automatically viewed with more suspicion by outsiders than a man of high social standing.

Wilkie Collins’ Victorian sensation novel opens with several, for lack of a better word, strange events: the near-drowning of a small Italian man, an eerie encounter with an escapee from an asylum, and (in my opinion, most shockingly) a woman with a mustache. The protagonist, Walter is immediately taken aback by this mustache woman, Marian Halcombe, internally exclaiming “the lady is ugly!”(Collins 34). Walter also notes that, while she does possess a beautiful figure, she also “ha[s] a large, firm, masculine mouth and jaw; prominent, piercing, resolute brown eyes; and thick, coal-black hair, growing unusually low down on her forehead”(Collins 35). She, juxtaposed with the beautiful and demure Laura Fairlie, is a complete contradiction to the typical Victorian standards of beauty. Laura is the embodiment of beauty in the eyes of Walter (and a presumably Victorian audience): she is demure, submissive, and fair.

Marian and Laura are polar opposites not only in appearance, but in personality as well. While Laura is submissive and reserved, Marian is outspoken and dominant. Mr. Fairlie, the supposed master of the house, much prefers polishing his coin collection to taking care of his family, thus the responsibility falls to Marian. Throughout the novel, she is constantly critiquing and refusing to conform to gender norms, at one point even claiming that she “[doesn’t] think much of [her] own sex”(Collins 36). Despite being presented as such a stark contrast to the ideal Victorian woman she is still, I think, one of the most likable characters in the novel. Unlike the lovesick Walter; the daft Laura, the weak Mr.Fairlie; and the incredibly passive Mrs. Vesey; Marian is smart, capable, determined, and takes care of everyone else in the house. She has informed, intelligent opinions on various matters, such as Laura’s upcoming marriage to Sir Percvial Glyde, and is not afraid to share them.

Perhaps this is just my modern perspective on the novel and could completely contradict the author’s message, however, I believe that the character of Marian Halcombe serves as a critique of Victorian ideals. She is a complete contrast to Victorian ideals, however, is still the character that (at least so far in the novel) is in the most control of her own destiny and seems to be much better off than everyone else. Because she is not afraid to speak her mind and pursue her goals, something that Victorian women were not necessarily encouraged to do, she is one of the most well-liked characters in the novel (at least to me). Her refusal to conform to the pressures of her surrounding society, and her ability to thrive doing so, could suggest that a deviance from Victorian social norms is not necessarily detrimental.

In this post I would like to address the child imagery used to depict Laura within pages 126-195 of Wilkie Collins’s The Woman in White. The Freudian concepts of repetition and repression discussed in class are evident features of Laura’s child imagery, which I will come to elaborate on. I pose that this child imagery, when analyzed with a Freudian lens, serves not only to display Laura’s repression of her feelings for Walter, but also creates a stronger connection and physical appearance mirroring Anne Catherick (as child imagery was abundant in her character description in the graveyard seen earlier in the novel).

Mr. Gilmore first brings up one of Laura’s repetitive habits she has had since childhood. When he approaches her regarding the question of whether or not she will marry he observes “Her fingers had a restless habit, which I remembered in her as a child, of always playing with the first thing that came to hand, whenever anyone was talking to her” (141-2). Marian recognizes the fiddling of the fingers again when conversing about her decision to marry Percival Glyde: “twining and twisting my hair with that childish restlessness in her fingers” (164). That night Marian notices the expression of another habit Laura has exhibited since childhood when Mr. Hartright’s drawing book was “half hidden under her pillow, just in the place where she used to hide her favourite toys when she was a child” (165). In Sigmund Freud’s Remembering, Repeating, and Working-Through he states as a psychoanalyst that “repitition is a transference of the forgotten past…remembering at once gives way to acting out…brings out an armoury of the past the weapons with which he defends himself against the progress of the treatment” (Freud 151). Freud essentially states that repressed emotions and thoughts can transfer themselves into repetitive physical actions, for example, Laura using her fingers to play with objects or hiding prized items under her pillow at night.

Recognizing the suggestive, Freudian evidence of her repetitive behaviors, I contend that Laura’s fiddling with objects is an exhibition of her repressed affection for Walter (potentially her desire to ‘play with him’) and her internal wishes to not marry Mr. Glyde, as well as simply the repressed wish that the current conversation would halt. Hiding Hartright’s drawing book under her pillow exhibits her repressed desire to hold on to him, her repressed fear of losing him or that someone will steal him (Glyde, Catherick, or other), and potentially her repressed desire to sleep with him, although due to her chastity and duty to her engagement, she cannot.

Child imagery in regards to Laura continues on 185 when Marian proclaims “poor child- for a child still she is still in many things”. I aim to compare this with child imagery pressed onto Anne on page 94 “harmless, poor soul, as a little child”. Anne’s continued ‘orphan role’ image and obsession with Mrs. Fairlie as a mother figure also play into her child imagery “nobody is like Mrs. Fairlie!” (100). These similarities in child depiction strengthen the assumption throughout the novel that they are physically similar. Extrapolating from this, this imagery also attests to both characters’ innocence and purity in that they “are only children” whether in mental capacity, looks, or social understanding. Percival Glyde’s age of 45 years also gives him a further pedophile-esque quality. It provides suggestions that he is out to control these women as they are merely harmless, supple children. It implies he is or has taken advantage of them- for their bodies, their purity of mind and heart, and in Miss Fairlie’s case, her money (witnessed by Gilmore 151).

Laura Fairlie’s wedding with Sir Percival Glyde seems to signify the end of the world for quite a few people. Marion takes it especially hard and acts as if once Laura marries Sir Percival, she will be dead. “She will be his Laura instead of mine!… [it is] as if writing of her marriage were like writing of her death” (185).This novel really seems to be Laura’s coming of age narrative because all her life, all she has known was Marion and her loyal promise to marry Sir Percival.

When she was exposed to Walter Hartwright and to what true love feels like, everything changed and she had to sacrifice her desires in order to keep her word. She is forced to leave her childhood innocence behind and leave her sister, whom she was inseparable with all her life in order to “grow up” and marry another man like she was meant to do according to familial expectations. Once Laura marries Sir Percival, her own sense of individual identity will cease to exist. She has to sacrifice true love, family, and possibly her inheritance (which she does not yet have access to) in order to marry a man who she promised her late father she would wed.

There is a theme her in which women were only meant to marry and once they did that, it’s like their life is over and they have accomplished all there is to accomplish at that point in their life, it’s portrayed as a rite of passage into adulthood and maturity for the ideal Victorian woman represented by Laura. She now has wifely duties that she is expected to fulfill after she is married not only in the sense of the domestic sphere and responsibility, but also there is a loss of her sexual innocence that comes with marriage. This loss of virginity is only hinted at when Marion discusses the loss of Laura’s innocence through the image of her “pretty little white bed” (194) she’s leaving behind after her wedding, only like a true Victorian novel does.

Marion really emphasizes this point when she states,”It is all over. They are married” (195) and mourns Laura’s death (oops… I meant marriage).

I think that Pesca is a really interesting character, who I would like to explore more. Pesca is a fun character to read about, but I find what he symbolizes irritating. Collins is using Pesca to be the embodiment of English elitism. He is constantly trying to be “more English”. This idea that foreigners want to be more like the English is a Victorian ideal that reinforces imperialism. Pesca wanted to try everything there was to be as close to an Englishman as possible: “The ruling idea of his life appeared to be, that he was bound to show his gratitude to the country which had afforded him an asylum and a means of subsistence, by doing his utmost to turn himself into an Englishamn” (Collins 11). He goes so far as to try to swim even though he does not know how. Walt is then put in the positon to save him. This image of an Englishman saving a foreigner was all too common an excuse for imperialism during the time. Of course the foreigner is ever grateful to the merciful Englishman for saving his life.

Looking at the chain of events more closely, however, it should be noted that had Pesca not been trying to be English he would not have been drowning in the first place. In trying to be English, Pesca placed himself in harm’s way. Had Pesca been participating in activities that he was familiar with he would not have needed help. The Englishman only becomes the “savior” after, he has impressed the very thing that is putting people in danger.

Pesca is amusing to read, but he is a complete caricature. I think that he is portrayed in a very degrading way. I do not think Pesca is doing anything wrong, it is more the way people talk to him that is degrading. Ms. Hartright talks down to him and never takes him seriously, while Sarah is out right cold to him. Both forms of treatment are due to Pesca not being English. His poor treatment bothers me because Pesca is such a pleasant character so it is annoying to read about people treating him poorly.

While reading The Woman in White, something that stuck out to me was the effect of Mrs. Fairlie on Anne Catherick as a child. Specifically, Mrs. Fairlie describes in her letter one statement she made to Anne. She writes, “So I arranged, yesterday, that some of our darling Laura’s old frocks and white hats should be altered for Anne Catherick; explaining to her that little girls of her complexion looked neater and better in all white than anything else. She hesitated and seemed puzzled for a minute; then flushed up, and appeared to understand… and said (oh so earnestly!), ‘I will always wear white as long as I live’” (Collins 60-1). This seemed important because when Hartright meets Anne, she is wearing white, and she clearly still recalls that this is due to Mrs. Fairlie’s suggestion. It made me consider the relationship between members of the upper and lower classes in Victorian England; specifically, the pressure on poorer people to imitate the upper class moral standards. In this scene, an upper class woman tells a disadvantaged little girl that she should be wearing white in an effort to improve her appearance, and the little girl holds onto this as an eternal truth throughout her life, acting as though maintaining Mrs. Fairlie’s wishes will bring her happiness or fulfillment.

In the larger context of the novel as a whole, I think this idea is fairly prominent. When Mrs. Fairlie seeks to improve Anne as a project, she is following the imperialist mindset we have discussed in class. She feels it is her responsibility to enforce her own standards of dress, and I think by extension, general behavior and moral conduct. Because of her plentiful resources and ignorance of lower-class reality, Mrs. Fairlie views Anne’s response as a charming devotion, while its effects will continue to spin out of control after Mrs. Fairlie’s departure. I would suggest this is a much smaller-scale version of the chaos that ensues when nations are colonized by Europeans who want to “improve” their morality and gain satisfaction from perceived success. This interaction is also significant because wearing white clothing is in fact not a practical or maintainable state of affairs for most middle or lower-class women, which relates to the difficulty of maintaining the strict social standards and boundaries for people who do not have all the material or educational resources of the upper class.

When I thought about this scene even more, I also began to consider its relation to the parallel drawn between Laura and Anne. Laura is given all the education and white clothing as a child of a wealthy family and turns out to be the ideal Victorian dainty woman. Anne’s experience with these resources produces a nearly opposite result: she is scarred and experiences some intense trauma we do not yet know the details of. I wonder if Collins could be suggesting that while Victorian standards and conventions suit and elevate the upper class, they have a hugely damaging effect on the lower classes. Perhaps he is arguing that if the lower classes do not have appropriate support, they will be confined to their station in a society that requires adherence to such extreme standards prior to admission. I wonder if this novel is in part a statement about the impossibility of social progress without acknowledgement and consideration for the realities of lower class life.

“She has escaped from my asylum!” (31) Thus begins the fifth chapter of Wilkie Collins’ sensation novel The Woman in White. Walter Hartright, who has just helped a woman escape from an asylum and find her way to London, ponders the consequences of his actions while torn between two possibilities. “What had I done? Assisted the victim of the most horrible of all false imprisonments to escape; or cast loose on the wide world of London an unfortunate creature, whose actions it was my duty, and every man’s duty, mercifully to control?” (32) Anne Catherik’s appearance and situation while puzzling reminded me of the runaway bride, and while that has yet to be determined as the case it bears striking similarities it is reminiscent of the story of Joanna, and of many other women wrongfully put in asylums, from Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street[1].

Joanna is in the care of an elderly and corrupt Judge Turpin who had her father sent to prison overseas because he wanted to possess her mother, and after he proposes to his ward (and she refuses) he has her thrown into the asylum until she “consents” to marry him. While this may not be the exact case with Anne, both characters represent a common problem for women of the 19^th and early 20^th centuries. According to the London Science Museum website a multitude of women who “rejected domesticity” faced the potential danger of being thrown into the insane asylum. They were then subjected to moral treatment, in which a patient is treated like a child rather than an animal and the doctor/caregiver must view themselves as the father running a strict household. Women in asylums were regarded as needing a strong masculine authority in order to be “healed.”

Many people were outraged by how women were treated in asylums, which the London Science Museum also notes contributed to the trope of the “madwoman in the attic” in Victorian literature. If this is the case, and Walter clearly recognizes that women are often unjustly sent to asylums, why does he doubt his actions? While there is the possibility that someone escaping from an asylum has committed some horrible crime but due to their condition were put there, it is highly unlikely. Walter knows the reality of how common cases of innocent women in asylums are. Yet whether or not Anne is in the asylum there is still the problem of a woman on her own, who needs to be controlled by all men.

Thus comes a problem of not only The Woman of White but of society in general. If we think of Walter as all men (and so far the book has only been read from the narration of men), then there is an internal struggle of power due to societal standards and the forced “masculine responsibility.” Men recognize that women are in a troubling social position, yet don’t want to help for fear of relinquishing their power. Therefore, Walter’s thoughts after helping Anne reflect some form of male anxieties and the supposed necessity of male dominance.

[1] While the book The String of Pearls on which the musical is based takes place in the late 18^th century, the musical adaptation is based around 1847 in Victorian London.

While there are lots of bizarre events occurring in The Woman in White, few passages made me feel as downright uncomfortable as the passage where Walter Hartright proclaims his love for Laura. Instead of saying sweet things about the girl he has fallen for, as would be expected, Walter goes on for paragraphs talking about his urges to touch Laura. He states that he “had just enough work to do, in mounting his employer’s drawings, to keep his hands and eyes pleasurably employed, while his mind was left free to enjoy the dangerous luxury of its own unbridled thoughts” (Collins 64). In other words, Walter likes doing his work because it gives him lots of time to think dirty thoughts about Laura, and it gives him something to do with his hands other than struggle to keep them off of her.

He doesn’t talk about any part of Laura’s personality that he finds appealing, instead he discusses the many parts of her appearance that he is attracted to. Walter goes into great detail describing how “the more attentively Laura watched every movement of his brush, the more closely he was breathing the perfume of her hair, and the warm fragrance of her breath. It was part of his service, to live in the very light of her eyes- at one time to be bending over her, so close to her bosom as to tremble at the thought of touching it” (Collins 65). Walter and Laura have barely interacted so far in the story, especially never a heartfelt, meaningful interaction, so I can’t imagine that Walter knows that much about Laura other than what he has observed at face value. Walter’s “love” for Laura is certainly only lust, and it is definitely obsession.

The lecherous way he talks about Laura does not give me warm and loving feelings. Walter even portrays himself in a creepy way when he talks about having to put up a guard  to prevent him from the temptation of the “beautiful and captivating women” that his career allows him to be around (Collins 66). Walter, you officially skeeve me out. The more times Walter announced that he loved Laura, the less I believed it. His “love” towards her is actually just extreme sexual desire.