“I hate Sir Percival!”

The section that I chose to close read was Marian’s diary entry for December 20th, beginning with the line “I hate Sir Percival!” (191).  What I wish to focus on is the interpretation of the moment in which Laura first sees her name with Sir Percival’s last name attached to it and her reaction.

“Last night, the cards for the married couple were sent home.  Laura opened the packet, and saw her future name in print, for the first time.  Sir Percival looked over her shoulder familiarly at the new card which had already transformed Miss Fairlie into Lady Glyde — smiled with the most odious self-complacency — and whispered something in her ear.  I don’t know what it was — Laura has refused to tell me — but I saw her face turn to such a deadly whiteness that I thought she would have fainted.  He took no notice of the change: he seemed to be barbarously unconscious that he had said anything to pain her.” (191).

Upon first reading I thought that it was rather clear what Sir Percival might have said to Laura.  Considering the discussion between Laura and Marian only a few pages earlier where Marian tells us that, “She has learnt her hard, her inevitable lesson.  The simple illusions of her girlhood are gone” (186) I made the assumption that what Sir Percival whispered was of a sexual nature, something to connect Laura’s new title with her new role in his life.  I also thought that it might be something sexual in nature because of Laura’s refusal to repeat it to Marian. I saw this as a moment of foreshadowing the change in roles that occurs between Marian and Laura post-marriage, as Laura upon her return from the honeymoon refuses to share the problems in her marriage with her sister as a means of protecting her. However, upon further thought, I do think that a more complex reading of this section can be seen when considering the marital laws at the time.

I think that it is very important in this section to consider the phrase used to describe Laura’s impending transition into marriage, “the new card which had already transformed Miss Fairlie into Lady Glyde” (191). In the Victiorian period, when a woman married she ceased to exist as an individual and became completely the property of her husband. I think that by phrasing this as Miss Fairlie becoming Lady Glyde with the exclusion of her first name it is acting as a symbol for this loss of individuality that would occur upon her marriage to Sir Percival.  When considering this reading of the text, it is entirely possible then that Sir Percival did not say anything sexual to her at all, but rather he might have said something in reference to his soon to be ownership of her, and that the concept of losing herself in this unwanted marriage is what shook Laura to the core.  Thus, her reluctance to share her future husband’s words with her sister was not to prevent her from knowing her husbands carnal thoughts about her, but instead to prevent Marian’s further anger at him, as she has been throughout the novel very much a feminist figure.

Collin’s Narration and Marian’s Womanhood

From the very beginning of the novel, Wilkie Collins sets up a unique narration that sets the reader at the edge of page, quick to discover what comes next.  But what I find most intriguing about Collins’ narrative style is its strategic characterization of Marian Halcombe.

Our first impressions of Marian are relayed to us by Walter Hartright, “the lady is dark…the lady is young… the lady is ugly!” (34).  He continues to elaborate on Miss Halcombe’s bold, masculine features which include a strong jaw, facial hair, resolution, and strong will, concluding she is altogether wanting femininity in her physical appearance and demeanor (35).  Though, Walter does admit to a certain charm to her “modest graces of action through which the symmetrical limbs betrayed their beauty when they moved,” it is made explicit that Marian is more man than woman (35).  She is described as level-headed, intelligent, and analytical, a stark contrast to both Laura and Mrs. Vesey who project feminine passivity.

Not only does Walter divorce Marian from his schema of femininity, but Marian also reinforces this instinct by rejecting female-gender-roles and removing herself from the stereotype ‘Victorian woman.’  During Walter’s narration she repeatedly generalizes woman in a very negative light and explicitly admits, “I don’t think much of my own sex, Mr. Hartright” (36). This attitude towards Marian continues through the end of Walter’s narration and into Mr. Gilmore’s narration.

There is a shift however, when Marian begins her narration.  From this point on, Marian’s gender established in the first two sections is contradicted and blurred.  For one, we witness Marian accept her role as a woman when she coddles and protects Laura.  She laments the pain that all women suffer at the hands of men with “miserable, weak, women’s tears.”  And her narration produces a less rational, level-headed voice than Mr. Hartright suggested.  She narrates like a school girl might gossip, impulsively and indulgently.  She frequently relates one idea, only to contradict it later.  For example, when Marian tries to decide her feelings towards Sir Percival she is at first uneasy, though in her journal entry on December 2 she writes, “ on looking back I find myself aways referring to Sir Percival in disparaging terms. In the turn affairs have now taken, I must and will root out my prejudice against him” (186).  She continues of the next few days to praise his handsome looks and respectable behaviors as his “pure charity, his conduct….deserves extraordinary praise!” (190).  But on December 20 she writes, “I hate Sir Percival! I flatly deny his good looks.  I consider him to be eminently ill tempered and disagreeable, and totally wanting in kindness and good feeling” (191).  Therefore Marian is now seen as fickle and easily swayed, more like a woman than a man.  Even later Marian’s voice suggests hysteria in her jealousy and paranoia combined with her impulsive nature.  This shift in characterization of Marian is directly linked to Collin’s narrative style.  Mr. Hartright and Mr. Gilmore write their passage after the written events have already ended, giving them ample time to reflect on and analyze them.  However, Marian’s narration takes place as the events take place which therefore leads the reader to think that she is less rational than the men, more like a woman, and therefore less reliable as a narrator.

Victorian stereotype in The Woman in White

Women in the Victorian period were expected to be docile, submissive, and were relegated to the domestic sphere. Once married, as Greg states in his essay, they became their husband’s servants and had no legal rights to own property. Laura Fairlie’s character in The Woman in White embodies all these characteristics, representing the typical Victorian woman. The Victorian stereotype that Laura impersonates can be seen not only in her personality which is described as servile, vulnerable and weak, but it does also apply to her social status. In that period, in fact, marriages used to be arranged by parents, and Laura, being engaged to an older and wealthier man she does not love, is no exception.

However, the interesting figure of Marian Halcombe in this novel completely contradicts this stereotype. From the beginning, she is described by Walter as an intelligent, curious, rational and outspoken woman. When introduced, Walter immediately notices Marian’s physical masculinity which, to a broader extent, can be read as seeping into her character personality, given that she is an independent, dominant character who has great influence in Limmeridge House. She is verbally frank and extremely critical of her own gender, as she states on her first meeting with Walter, “How can you expect four women to dine together alone every day, and not quarrel? We are such fools, we can’t entertain each other at table. You see I don’t think much of my own sex, Mr. Hartright” (36) In addition to this, Marian’s presentation as both an “ugly” and unmarried woman typifies Greg’s idea of a societally dangerous woman: “the residue who remain unmarried constitute the problem to be solved, the evil and anomaly to be cured” (159)

The Beauties and the Beasts

In Wilkie Collin’s The Woman in White, I noticed that the characters Marian and Count Fosco were similar in many ways: They are described to be intelligent, practical, and unattractive. However, even though they are similar, they work against each other to achieve different goals. While Marian works to protect Laura, Count Fosco works with Sir Percival to steal Laura’s inheritance. This opposition shows Collins’ ideas of the society in Victorian England: While Count Fosco symbolizes the driving forces behind the oppression of women, Marian becomes a symbol of those who defy this oppression.

Count Fosco is Italian, and is described to be an intelligent man in the novel by Marian (219), and Count Fosco praises Marian to have “the foresight and resolution of a man” (324). Both characters are also described to be unattractive, and they are fighting their cause with a less intelligent, but more attractive, counterpart. Compared to Marian, Laura seems to be a weak character who is prone to emotional outbursts, and her value is placed on her looks and inheritance. Similarly, Sir Percival is also described as attractive and rich. Sir Percival and Laura therefore have several Victorian ideals: While Laura is feminine, Sir Percival is upper-class and rich. Marian’s unattractiveness and traditional masculine qualities, and Count Fosco’s similar unattractiveness and foreign status, therefore make them unlikely candidates to be of importance in the Victorian English society, which then gives them room to attempt to control what happens to the people they care about.

Count Fosco’s oppression against women is exemplified in his behavior with his wife. Marian describes how he controls her briefly in her diary: “The rod of iron with which he rules [the Countess] never appears in company – it is a private rod, and is always kept upstairs” (Collins 222). Marian’s brief explanation that he “rules” her with a “rod of iron” suggests overtones of rape and domestic violence. As Count Fosco works with Sir Percival to steal Laura’s inheritance, this suggests that Sir Percival could also “rule” Laura with a “rod of iron,” as Count Fosco is familiar with controlling women. On the contrary, Marian seems to be interested in women’s rights: “‘I remember the time, Countess, when you advocated the Rights of Women – and freedom of female opinion was one of them’” (232). Her criticism of the Countess’ newfound lack of opinion suggests that Marian is an advocate for the Rights of Women as well, which would then make her a symbol of the New Woman. Furthermore, throughout the novel Marian and Count Fosco are shown to use their intelligence to take control of the situation to promote the interests of themselves or their partner. However, I am curious as to why there seems to be an attraction between Count Fosco and Marian at times. Marian’s initial reaction to Count Fosco was attraction, and although it is not as explicitly stated later as she comes to know his true intentions, she still seems to get certain “sensations” by his presence.

Avoiding Female Hysteria

The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins was widely referred to as a “sensation novel” as it sparked excitement and desire within the reader through crime, mystery, and romantic triangles.  The dramatic tales were scandalous for the era, and particularly worrisome as they appealed to female reader. In William Greg’s essay discussing the Victorian woman, he focuses particularly on the despair and disappointment of single women. He deems them unaware of their ambitions, and accuses them of setting goals too high to be met, which would leave them in “a dreary void of unshared existence.” In The Woman in White, this idea and the belittling of women is made clear through the male characters. However, Marian Halcombe contrasts the typical female character in her often blunt expressions and her “rational” thoughts.

In Vincent Gilmore’s narration, he has a particularly interesting series of conversations with Marian. His descriptions of Marian often include adjectives that would be used to describe males. He uses hard words, like sharp and dark. On page 146, Marian stands up to Gilmore, in a conversation about Laura. Upon calling Laura “weak and nervous,” Marian says to Vincent Gilmore, “you are altering your opinion about Laura, you are readier to make allowances for her than you were yesterday.” He writes, “No sensible man ever engages, unprepared, in a fencing match of words with a woman.” This not only shows Marian’s ability and confidence to stand up to men, but also her fierce loyalty to Laura, which becomes more and more evident as the book continues. Gilmore, in his narration, is almost submissive, but alludes to the “irrationality” that women were believed to express through their hysteria. I did not interpret his thought as respectful, but rather a mockery of Marian’s provoking statement. Rather than continuing the conversation, he replies to her, “Let me know what happens. I will do nothing till I hear from you.” His avoidance of the argument, or potential conversation, was, in my opinion to avoid Marian getting “hysterical” by some means.

Unlit Torches and the Failed Repetition of Blackwater Park

The Woman in White is full of repetitions, and noticing the differences between these repetitions creates meaning that neither instance can achieve alone. One such replication can be seen in two evenings that Collins describes in detail—one narrated by Walter Hartright at Limmeridge (57-58), and the other narrated by Marian at Blackwater Park (286-287). The scenes are set up to appear almost identical: Laura plays the piano while Marian sits slightly removed at a far window, passing time as the day transitions to night. In the scene at Limmeridge, Walter acts as our guide to appreciating the evening’s qualities of light and sound, while Count Fosco occupies that role at Blackwater Park. Walter’s and the Count’s descriptions of the evening are tied together by common words such as “heaven,” “trembling,” “twilight,” and “tenderness,” as well as by both men’s desire that the torches remain unlit.

However, the differences between the two scenes convey starkly opposing meanings. While Walter describes the light as “shading leaf and blossom into harmony,” Count Fosco twice refers to the light as “dying” against the trees. This reference to death recalls to mind Marian’s first descriptions of Blackwater Park’s decaying forest. Furthermore, while at Limmeridge the lamps go unlit “by common consent,” at Blackwater only Count Fosco “begs” for the lamps to remain dark. These variations reveal that Blackwater is, in actuality, a failed replication of Limmeridge House. Instead of the harmony and easy companionship between Laura, Marian, and Walter, Blackwater is filled with discord and decay, highlighted by Count Fosco’s rejected attempts to become friendly with Marian and Laura.

The figure of the Woman in The Woman in White

Since the very beginning of The Woman in White the reader is faced with some statements which foreshadow the conception of the woman’s role at the time the novel was written (1860), considered as subordinate to men’s authority. As Miss Halcombe says: “Being, however, nothing but a woman, condemned to patience, propriety, and petticoats, for life, I must respect the housekeeper’s opinions, and try to compose myself in some feeble and feminine way” (198). In other words, the feminine way at that time, was equal to being a docile and submissive human being, at the mercy of the men’s authority. In order for this to happen, marriage seems to be considered, at that time, the most effective way to put order in society and somehow relegate women to their natural role of subaltern individuals. Once again, is Miss Holcombe to state that: “ For the common purposes of society the extraordinary change thus produced in her (Madame Fosco), is, beyond all doubt, a change for the better, seeing that it has transformed her into a civil, silent, unobtrusive woman, who is never in the way”(216).
Such lines seem to reflect Greg’s considerations that “The residue (of women)-the large excess over this proportion-who remain unmarried constitute the problem to be solved, the evil and anomaly to be cured…” (159). Both Collins’ novel and Greg’s article, even if in different forms (the novel through irony, the article through a more serious tone) refers to women as silly and useless individuals for the society, but at the same time as a threat to get rid of, and the best way to do so is limiting their power by pressuring them to get married and becoming – to use once again Miss Halcombe’s words- their husbands “faithful dog” (216) and, consequently, harmless to the society.
It seems to me that the novel is full of hints which suggest the fear of the 19th century’s patriarchal societies of everything different to their patriarchal values (women in the first place). The fact that Anne Catherick escapes from the asylum and is a kind of ghost for all the other characters of the novel could be a metaphor of the society’s unsuccessful attempt to shut women down. The irony with which women’s silliness is described by Collins all throughout the book could stand for a defensive literary artifice and the novel itself could be seen as a way to release the unconscious 18th century’s fear of women, the ultimate of the threats.

A White Linen Cloth

Throughout the Woman in White by Wilkie Collins, the reader witnesses drastic changes in many of the characters. Most notably, there are shifts among the female characters between the stereotypical ‘rash and emotional’ woman to a more stable and ‘masculine’ female character. This change in dynamic is witnessed in many of the characters. For example, Marion, who is more masculine and rational than the other female characters, becomes much more unstable and ‘feminine’ as the novel progresses. One of the most subtle, yet pivotal, changes however is seen in Anne, the woman in white.

At first, Anne is described as hysteric. When Walter first speaks with her she is said to have “spoke with unnecessary earnestness and agitation, and shrank back from me several paces” (25). She is uncomfortable and far from calm. This is particularly apparent when Sir Percival Glyde is mentioned and the woman screams uncontrollably. She possesses many of the characteristics a typical Victorian woman would have been said to exhibit. However, Anne’s character begins to change as the plot progresses. In a later passage, Walter sees Anne at Mrs. Fairlie’s grave, and her actions are much different than what one would expect. The novel states, “she then glanced all round her, and, taking a white linen cloth or handkerchief from under her cloak, turned aside towards the brook” (95). This picture of the woman in white is pure and peaceful. “She dipped the cloth then kneel down before the inscription, and apply her wet cloth to the cleansing of it” (95).

The language in this paragraph is particularly descriptive and striking, unlike the rest of the passage. Throughout the first epoch, Walter narrates the story and his tone is observant and at some points critical or unsure of the female characters. Although, his language becomes slightly feminine or more emotional when he describes having ‘strange feelings’. His tone is, for the most part, straightforward. With this description, there seems to be an immense amount of clarity in trying to figure out the mystery that is the woman in white. This passage, and its eloquence, is a turning point in the novel. From this point on, we learn more about Anne and her past and how truly crucial she is to the development of the plot as well as the progression of the other characters. For it is at this point in the novel, many of the other characters, such as Laura, begin to alter too.

 

The Anxiety of Count Fosco’s Influence

An uneasy combination of admiration and fear characterizes Marian’s reception of Count Fosco in the second epoch of The Woman in White. Having long wanted to meet him herself, Marian initially describes Fosco with admiration, as “the magician who has wrought this wonderful transformation… a man who could tame anything” (217).  She portrays him in positions of power: he is a magician performing awe-inspiring magic, a ringmaster taming his “once wayward” wife (217). However, Fosco’s splendid power is tinged for Marian with an anxiety over the extent of his control. She writes of him in her diary:

“I am afraid to confess it, even to these secret pages. The man has interested me, has attracted me, has forced me to like him” (217).

“What is it that makes me unable to blame them [his peculiarities], or to ridicule them, in him?” (217).

“They [his eyes] have at times a cold, clear, beautiful, irresistible glimmer in them, which forces me to look at him, and yet causes me sensations, when I do look, which I would rather not feel” (218).

“He has… that secret gentleness in his voice… which we [women] can none of us resist” (219, all above emphasis mine).

The language Marian uses to describe Fosco collectively demonstrates her fear, the sense that he is acting on her, against her will, to produce a certain end—one that she cannot resist, and that she does not desire. He “forces her” to feel and to look, “causes her” to feel a certain way, and even “makes her unable” to blame him for it. She is stripped of agency in her interactions with him. Though she may not have the modern vocabulary to describe it, Marian’s diction is somewhat evocative of acquaintance rape: anxiety, social pressure, force, and finally silence—in Marian’s inability to “blame” Fosco, and a fear that somehow, even in the secrecy of her journal, he will discover her fear and become sure of his advantage over her.

This sense of oppressive force and underlying anxiety concerning Count Fosco heightens the audience’s sense of uncertainty about where his loyalties lie, or what his motivations are. Is he a friend, or is he simply waiting to force his aims upon the sisters? The unease evident in even Marian’s praise of him frames him for readers as a skilled manipulator, thus furthering the impression that we cannot see through his actions any more than she can (at least until he adds his postscript to her diary).

Marian’s Validation

I found Marian to be, by far, the most intriguing character in the novel. Her section of the novel propels the plot more so than any other character. It is through her observations of events and her insights of these events that the reader truly begins to comprehend the varied characters traits of each protagonist. But when it comes to her part in the narrative, it seems to be constantly second-guessed and more deeply examined because of the fact that she is a woman. There is a constant obsession in this Victorian setting about the connection between thought and feeling for women and how they can’t seem to distinguish the two. The most interesting aspect of this, in my opinion, is that the narrative includes an internal commentary on Marian’s writing and narration. When Marian falls ill, Fosco takes the liberty to go into her journal and read her inscriptions, about which he exclaims: “Yes! These pages are amazing. The tact which I find here, the discretion, the rare courage […] have all inexpressibly increased my admiration of this sublime creature, of magnificent Marian. The presentation of my own character is masterly in the extreme. I certify, with my whole heart, to the fidelity of the portrait.” (336) These extreme exclamations of surprise are a statement to Fosco’s automatic discrediting of Marian’s work due to her status of being a woman. Fosco most likely believed in this theory that women let their emotions get in the way of everything they do, including writing and especially writing about people. How could a woman judge a person correctly when her feelings would get in the way of their interpretation of that person’s character? The fact that he “certifies” the accuracy of the picture painted of him leads to question if Collins included this to validate what Marian was saying for the reader. There is so much to say of this passage that can veer in so many different directions but I think that it importantly addresses the stigmas around women at the time as well as introducing a very internal commentary on the writing of the book itself. This was an extremely interesting element for Collins to include and I would be interested in how this affects the audience further on in the novel.