The Puppeteer, the Fool, & the Heroine

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

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

Response:

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

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

Count Fosco: Looking Beyond the Iron Rod

The control Count Fosco wields over other people, particularly women, can make reading about him a fascinating, albeit somewhat uncomfortable, experience. I’ve always found his relationship with his wife disturbing (one needn’t look further than page 222’s “rod of iron with which he rules her” to see why), so I was really quite surprised when this particular character discussed Victorian gender roles and marital laws in a way that is difficult to interpret as anything other than a strange criticism of the status quo.

During the count’s evil rant of evilness, wherein he reveals to Walter just how he accomplished the switching of Laura and Anne, he asks, “Where in the history of the world, has a man of my order ever been found without a woman in the background, self-immolated on the altar of his life?” He later continues, “I ask, if a woman’s marriage obligations, in this country, provide for her private opinion of her husband’s principals? No! They charge her unreservedly to love, honour, and obey him.” (612).

This is a fascinating statement. Count Fosco certainly shows no remorse when it comes to his treatment of his wife, but he also suggests that he was quite aware of her plight. The book implies that Madame Fosco has lost much of her personality since marrying the count. She once believed in women’s rights, now she dutifully serves a murderous sociopath. I say sociopath because of that lack of remorse. The Count suggests that his wive has “self-immolated on the alter of his life,” but he consciously took advantage of that situation. This section of the novel says more than ‘Count Fosco is a creepy jerk,’ though. It also suggests that women can be too dedicated to their husbands, which was a pretty radical idea for the Victorians. As the Count noted, the law charged women “unreservedly to love, honour, and obey” their husbands, leaving no room for their own opinions and, dare I say, personalities. By pointing the reader’s attention towards the plight of his own wife, and towards the fact that her plight was caused by following those social norms (norms that were reinforced by actual laws), Count Fosco pretty much critiques the very situation he was taking advantage of. Talk about a complicated villain!