Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell

I first read this book around the same time as I read Cranford (see my review here), sometime during my early teenage years, but as little as I recalled that book, I seem to have had even less memory of Wives and Daughters. I have no explanation as to why Elizabeth Gaskell's books made such little impact on me at that time, especially as I have so enjoyed reading them now, but I owe a debt of gratitude to Katherine of Gaskell Blog for hosting the Gaskell Reading Challenge, thereby compelling me to revisit this author. This is my final review in completion of that challenge, but I have to assume that you will hear more from me about Gaskell down the road, as I have every intention of continuing to explore her works.

You know that feeling of desperate longing you get every time you reread Sanditon (if my presumption that you have read this last fragment of an Austen novel is incorrect, I highly suggest you act to rectify the matter immediately)? Well imagine how much worse that sensation would be if she had manage to write the vast majority of the story, only to die before completing the climax of the book. It would be like Pride and Prejudice suddenly ending right after Lady Catherine's confrontation with Elizabeth at Longbourn, or Persuasion stopping right when Anne receives Captain Wentworth's note.. Without giving too much away, I have to acknowledge that this was what reading Wives and Daughters was like. After following the life of our heroine, Molly Gibson, for more than six hundred pages, the book suddenly ends right before we reach the satisfaction of "happily ever after", due to the untimely death of Gaskell. I so little remembered the book that this took me totally by surprise, but regardless, because the course of the plot is rather transparent throughout, it was still a highly satisfying read. Normally, such an obvious storyline would be a detriment to a story, but because of Gaskell's excellent character development, the novel remains thoroughly compelling. Molly is a heroine who it is impossible not to like - unwaveringly consistent in her morality, unfailingly kind, and touchingly tender in her affections - but I actually think it is the less amiable characters that make the book work so well. Pam Morris, in the introduction to my Penguin Classics edition of the novel, dwells at length on the attractions and multidimensional attributes of Cynthia Kirkpatrick, Molly's step-sister, presenting her as a feminist force, "If she is 'doomed' to be a heroine by the fact that she is a woman, Cynthia is represented as determined to remain in control of the fiction in which she stars." While this reading certainly adds a compelling dimension to any critique of the novel, it is her mother, Mrs. Gibson, who fascinated me most. Mrs. Gibson is in no way the wicked step-mother of fairytale, although Ms. Morris constructs her discussion of the novel within the context of a "fairytale subtext", but she is a consummate hypocrite and, as such, causes both Molly (to say nothing of her duped father) and Cynthia no little discomfort. My attraction to Mrs. Gibson lies greatly in her resemblance to several of Austen's characters, namely Isabella Thorpe and Mary Crawford. I was struck repeatedly by how her words and actions echoed those of these two notorious ladies. Her affinity with Isabella lies in her constant tendency to act in direct opposition to her words, while her similarity to Mary is more calculating and mercenary, particularly her readiness to capitalize on the potential death of an heir to an estate. Again, though I did find the plot rather transparent, I do not wish to divulge too much of the story for those who have not read it by delving deeply into this matter, but fans of Austen cannot help but perceive these correlations.

While we are on the subject of Austen's possible influence on Gaskell in this book, I must take a moment to point out the likenesses that exist between Molly, who I just described, to quote myself, as "impossible not to like", and that most derided of heroines, Fanny Price. Though Molly is not in the marginalized position that Fanny is, being the daughter of the house instead of a poor dependent, their characters are remarkably similar. This is particularly apparent in her constant tendency to scold herself ("'mean,' and 'envious of Cynthia,' and 'ill-natured,' and selfish,' were the terms she kept applying to herself; but it did no good, she was just as naughty at the last as at the first.") but it also comes through in her willingness to take what seems an uncharacteristically brave stance in the name of what she believes to be right, even in the face of immense pressure. Unlike the text of Mansfield Park, this external coercion comes not from a patriarchal figure (Mr. Gibson, though Ms. Morris might characterize him as chauvinistic, is totally enamored of his daughter), but from the gossips who inhabit the town of Hollingford, where the Gibson's live.

Fans of Cranford will enjoy the comfort to be derived from the society of Hollingford, which is uncannily like that of Cranford, right down to the prominent presence of two spinster ladies, the Miss Brownings, who were the daughters of the late rector, the elder of which acts as the stern moral authority of the town while her younger sister, Phoebe, forms its tender core. Just like gossip and rumor can cause irrational (and rather humorous) chaos in Cranford society, those same forces display their more sinister effects in Hollingford when Molly becomes the wrongful target of their venom. However, this incident provides an opportunity in the book to not only display Molly's worth, but also develops those feminist themes Ms. Morris so dwells upon in her intro, displaying the hypocrisies of a society that turns its head towards male misdemeanors while simultaneously, as Mr. Gibson puts it, putting "evil constructions...upon the actions ever so slightly beyond the bounds of maidenly propriety", yet another way in which the books reminds me of both Mansfield Park and Northnager Abbey.

The subtitle of this novel is An Every-Day Story, and while Ms. Morris goes a long way to dispute the accuracy of this label, relating it not only to fairytale and feminism, but also to Darwinism (quite convincingly, I should add), I think it is the familiar qualities of the book, as I have been emphasizing, as well as its resulting predictability, that made it so compelling to me. The novel provides an uncanny sense of coziness that only such thoroughly ordinary territory can provide. Though tensions arise along the way, I had a constant sense of confidence that this book would end well. Perhaps that is why the absence of those final chapters was such an abrasive shock to me. All the assumed givens of the story - the small English village, the maneuvers and motivations of the surrounding landed families, the archetypal characters - created this lovely complacence in me, and I happily lolled along until reaching the abrupt end. Any great writer's death is always a double tragedy, not only depriving their loved ones but also their public, leaving a longing for what might have been. I end this post wishing Mrs. Gaskell had just a few more months, perhaps even weeks would have sufficed, in order to complete this magnificent novel.      

Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell

I did read this book long ago, at a time during my teenage years when I was cramming in as much Victorian literature as I could get my hands on, but I never seemed to be able to recall it very well. I avoided watching the acclaimed BBC productions based upon it, as I had every intention of rereading it someday, and I generally prefer to know a book before a film adaptation. So when Gaskell Blog hosted a Cranford group read, I jumped at the chance to participate. I never caught the Gaskell bug and had not thought much about the author since high school. She never came up in college and, until I began blogging about Austen and learned how many Janeite's were huge Gaskell fans, did not spare her much thought, but as it has been forcibly born down upon me how many devotees of the author there are amongst people whose literary tastes concur with my own, this was bound to change. I did not manage to finish Cranford in tandem with the group, the holidays having proved an impediment, but upon announcement of the Gaskell Reading Challenge thought it would be the ideal place to begin. As I try to tie all non-Austen reviews to that lady, as she is the subject of this blog, please bear with me as I make my comparisons.

Cranford thoroughly displays its roots as a serial publication, in a manner far more obvious than most novels I have read that were released in this manner. Each chapter feels more like a vignette than a coherent tale, until the last few suddenly bring the narrative full circle. One of the most striking things that I found in the story is the fact that our heroine, Mary Smith, who narrates the events chronicled in the first person, is never named until the fourteenth chapter, the third to last. How very unusual! It emphasizes her role as observer rather than actor in most of the story, especially as her name, when finally revealed, is at a moment when she is finally asked to be a major player in directing the course of events (prior to this she does, in her quiet way, manage the developments, but not at the behest of others). The originality of the book's structure is almost jarring in its rebellion against the expected, especially when compared with the rather humdrum subject matter: that of ordinary life in a small town.

In Cranford, Gaskell tells the tale of members of a small community, just like Austen does, except that her characters are almost exclusively women, and mainly of the "old maid" variety. The fact that the story begins by making this perfectly clear ("...Cranford is in possession of the Amazons...") establishes the feminine focus of the book as its most important aspect. Therefore, all of their concerns are of a domestic nature: servants, household management, economizing, entertaining, furniture preservation, etc. What makes such subjects interesting is the witty and satiric tilt of Mary Smith's prospective, which highlights the foibles of her companions while never loosing empathy for their motives, and in this I again see great similarity to Austen (although sometimes the anecdotes reach a level of absurdity which Austen never obtains - like the notion of dressing a cow in a gray flannel suit to keep it warm). For example, this scene, in which Miss Smith, her hostess (and main concern) Miss Matty, and their friend Miss Pole dine with a rather rustic bachelor (by the way, the referenced story of Amine is from The Arabian Nights - there are no ghouls disguised as people in peaceful Cranford, although we are told of a ghost story):

When the ducks and the green peas came, we looked at each other in dismay; we had only two-pronged, black-handled forks. It is true, the steel was as bright as silver; but what were we to do? Miss Matty picked up her peas, one by one, on the point of the prongs, much as Amine ate her grains of rice after her previous feast with the Ghoul. Miss Pole sighed over her delicate young peas as she left them on one side of her plate untasted; for they would drop between the prongs. I looked at my host: the peas were going wholesale into his capacious mouth, shovelled up by his large round-ended knife. I saw, I imitated, I survived! My friends, in spite of my precedent, could not muster up courage enough to do an ungenteel thing; and, if Mr. Holbrook had not been so heartily hungry, he would probably have seen that the good peas went away almost untouched.

I laughed heartily as I read this account and developed a lot more respect for Miss Smith than I had previously felt. Generally, she is in lock step with the customs and values of the Cranford ladies. It is when circumstances take them out of routine that the story is most humorous. The following scene focuses on Mrs. Jamieson, the wealthy widow who sets the tone for the town, upon the occasion of being entertained at the home of Miss Betty Barker (the owner of the well-dressed cow, mentioned above), who in former days had worked as her lady's maid:

The tea-tray was abundantly loaded. I was pleased to see it, I was so hungry; but I was afraid the ladies present might think it vulgarly heaped up. I know they would have done at their own houses; but somehow the heaps disappeared here. I saw Mrs. Jamieson eating seed-cake, slowly and considerately, as she did everything; and I was rather surprised, for I knew she had told us, on the occasion of her last party, that she never had it in the house, it reminded her so much of scented soap. She always gave us Savoy biscuits. However, Mrs. Jamieson was kindly indulgent to Miss Barker's want of knowledge of the customs of high life; and, to spare her feelings, ate three large pieces of seed-cake, with a placid, ruminating expression of countenance, not unlike a cow's.

Just like one of Austen's most beloved heroines, it is clear that Gaskell, via Mary Smith, takes great delight in the "follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies" of humanity, of which Cranford offers an ample supply. Yet the predominant attribute of the town is the care and affection that its ladies display for each other. In the absence of family, they cling together in a fiercely clan-like manner. There is as much to admire here as there is to laugh at, a thing which can certainly not always be claimed in regards to Austen's more humorous characters. Although reading Cranford again was much like discovering it for the first time, there was nevertheless a sense of familiarity in its pages: a comforting nostalgic quality that I look forward to revisiting, both in text and film. I do not yet know which Gaskell novel I will read next, but whatever it is I hope it will charm me as this text did, and I will embark upon it with the mindset of a potential convert, just waiting to join the ranks of her ardent fans.   

One last thought - I really loved the new edition I picked up of this book (my old one being of inferior quality). This Broadview publication, edited by Elizabeth Langland, was chock full of useful footnotes and supplementary materials. I highly recommend it.

Gaskell Reading Challenge

After much soul searching, I am finally ready to commit to the Gaskell Reading Challenge hosted by GaskellBlog.com. I have never quite developed a passion for Gaskell, probably due to the fact that my first exposure to her was The Life of Charlotte Bronte, which bored me to tears when I read it as a teenager. Nevertheless, being, at the time, determined to conquer the Victorian canon, I went on to read Wives and Daughters, Ruth, and Cranford, none of which captured my imagination the way the Brontes, Dickens, or (particularly) Elliott did, and, quite frankly, I pretty much forgot about these books until I began blogging and discovered the huge interest in Gaskell amongst Janeites. So perhaps I missed something as a teenager? Very likely. I am already partway through a reread of Cranford, which I have found very amusing, if a bit scattered, and as the commitment for this challenge is "a minimum of two works", I figured it behooved me to give Gaskell another go. I do not know if I will manage more than the minimum, as I'm already feeling overextended in this pre-baby half of the year, but if I become enthralled there is no saying what may happen. The big question is, after Cranford, what shall I read nest? Suggestions are not only welcome but encouraged. What is your favorite Gaskell novel?