The Great Wash

My dryer is broken. First of all, let me acknowledge that it is a bit unusual to have a proper clothes dryer in Switzerland. Some apartments come equipped with a tumbler, but not a dryer, while most utilize shared facilities. It ought not feel a hardship to suddenly have to contend with line drying my clothing, but I am spoiled, and I'm finding the experience pretty darn frustrating.

W. H. Pyne. “Welsh Peasant Washers.” From The Costume of
Great Britain.  London: William Miller, 1808.

Thank goodness the weather has been good! Still, we don't get a full day of direct sunlight on our small patio, and I've had to be pretty creative in claiming new drying spots in windows and stairwells. I have not often had to think of such matters, but as my days have become regulated by shifting and turning items about, trying to help them dry faster, while watching the weather carefully for stray showers, I have inevitably dwelled on how mundane such thoughts and considerations were to Regency women. One of the most tedious and arduous of all household tasks at the time was doing the laundry, and even the most exalted had to have care and concern for the time and manpower involved. 

Jane Austen only really hints at the labor intensity of doing the laundry once in her novels, by my reckoning, in the fragment The Watsons, which I reread for the first time in about a decade this weekend. A recollection that doing the wash was mentioned inspired me. I've always far preferred Sanditon as a fragment and historically found The Watsons almost unbearably depressing. I enjoyed it much more this reading. Maybe the world is more depressing now, so it suits my mood better, or maybe ten years of intense Austen study has allowed me to properly understand the text. I certainly am more familiar with change, upheaval, and loss than I was when last I read it. Nevertheless, or perhaps as a result, the story doesn't seem so hopeless as it used to. I want to read it again and further crystallise my thoughts, so look forward to a proper post on the text.

For my purpose here today, there is just one line I'd like to examine. For those of you unfamiliar with the story (you can read it here), Emma Watson, our heroine, had just returned to her family home after years of privilege and comfort as the ward of her aunt and uncle. When the latter died, the former remarried a fortune hunter, who quickly dismisses Emma back to an already financially strained family. Elizabeth is her eldest sister and manages their meager household. Very early in the story she says to Emma, "Since you have been at home, I have been so busy with my poor father and our great wash that I have had no leisure to tell you anything ...." The modern reader may wonder why Elizabeth would have scheduled the wash for when her sister, unseen for eight years, is finally returning home, but she may have had very little choice. Obviously, the weather was a factor. Especially considering the wet climate in England, housekeepers had to be opportunistic about utilising fair weather. Not only does the sun whiten linens, it also prevented the necessity of having to find a place to dry everything inside the house, further discommoding everyone (particularly, one presumes, the servants). But there was more to it then taking advantage of limited sunshine. Most households would hire washerwomen in advance to come in and manage the process. These were experts in their field, with knowledge of how much soap and chemicals were required on which fabrics, and possessed of the strength to churn, lift, and wring heavy, soaking wet linen and wool. The task was formidable, and the lye soap utilised was disastrous to your hands, so to be avoided at all cost by any woman with pretensions to gentility. 

Jean-Baptiste Greuze, The Laundress, 1761.

Oil on canvas. Getty Museum, Los Angeles.

The wash would take at least two whole days to complete. It would begin the day before the
washerwomen would arrive, when a servant would be set to guard and tend the fire under the "copper," preparing it for use when the washerwomen arrived. There was then an order of operations to follow regarding what you washed first. A variety of cleansers were used, including urine on some of the more heavily soiled items, and blue dyes to counteract yellowing fabrics. Huge amounts of water were required for boiling and rinsing. It was a project to consume an entire household. Poor Emma must have felt quite out of place and useless to return home to such occupation and disorder. 

Of course, this just refers to table linens, bed clothes, undergarments, and corse garments. Fine fabrics and gowns required specialised care. A valuable gown would be disassembled for washing, all buttons removed, and reassembled with an eye to fixing and stretching that may have occurred to the fabric. All of this labor involved in the simple maintenance of clothing heavily reinforced class divides. It was simply impossible to maintain cleanliness without a small army of assistants. 

There are several excellent descriptions online of all that was entailed in doing the laundry. You'll find links to a few of my favorite below. I just want to reflect on how fortunate we are to have such an easy time with laundry, even as it still consumes a ton of my time and seems a never ending task (and that's when the dryer works). I am always so grateful to climb into a bed made with fresh sheets. That is a luxury that has never been lost on me. But now I will learn to be grateful for towels that are soft and fluffy instead of hard and crunchy. Indeed, I might be on the verge of down and breaking resorting to fabric softener for the first time in decades. Maybe the repair shop will call soon, and it won't have to come to that. Here's hoping!

18th Century Life: Ways to Wash your Linens

Jane Austen's World: Everyday Chores of Laundry and Scullery Maids, and Washerwomen

Pen and Pensions: The Georgian Washing Day

The Watsons by Jane Austen and Another Lady by Helen Baker

It is in my long term plans to read all of Helen Baker's Austen continuations, and this relatively unknown writer has been prolific in the genre, ever since I was charmed by her continuation of Sanditon, entitled The Brothers by Jane Austen and Another Lady (read my review here). It seemed logical to proceed next to her continuation of The Watsons, especially as the only other attempt at finishing it that I have read, by Joan Aiken, I found rather unsatisfying (read my thoughts on that work here). The Watsons is a troubling fragment, the only work we have from Austen dating from her time in residence at Bath, as it is far more melancholy than her other novels. While retaining the author's distinctive tone, her usual sparkling wit is extremely muted. Unlike a later Emma, Miss Woodhouse, the circumstances in which Emma Watson finds herself are thoroughly melancholy, and in Ms. Aiken's version, they only become more intensely so. Perhaps my favorite aspect of this completion by Ms. Baker is the fact that she finds a way to rescue Emma, as well as the rest of the family, from her extreme difficulties, providing a satisfyingly happy ending to Austen's starkly dire beginning. The means by which this is accomplished is a bit sordid, relying on the controversial topic of bigamy, but as this is the only aspect in which the text strays from what I would consider appropriately Austeninian topics, I found it did not hinder my overall enjoyment of the piece.

Ms. Baker begins her story before Austen commenced, detailing the circumstances in which Emma's Aunt and longtime guardian, Mrs. Turner, looses her husband and then falls in love with the problematic Captain O'Brien, the event that results in Emma being thrust back into the bosom of her struggling family, whom she has not seen since a very young age. This is where she turns to Austen's fragment, complete and unaltered, before continuing on to finish the tale. The insertion is done very seamlessly, and I had to refer back to my copy of The Watsons to confirm where Austen ended and Ms. Baker began. She must be commended not only for capturing Austen's tone so well, but also for remaining true to the original characterizations. My one complaint in this matter is that the gentleman set up at the rogue of the piece, one Tom Musgrave, while remaining meddlesome and an overall bother, does not live up to his potential as a heart breaker. I would have liked to see him more thoroughly discredited. However, perhaps the fact that the scenario in which our heroine is placed in is already so fraught with dramatic tension made Ms. Baker decide that a thorough rogue was unneeded.

There are two choices which Austen presented as potential heroes: Lord Osborne and his former tutor and local clergy man, Mr. Howard. I very much approve of the choice between the two that Ms. Baker made. On the other hand, the manner in which she directs Elizabeth, the eldest Watson sister's, heart I felt was not supported by Austen's beginning. I would, in general, have liked to have seen more done with Elizabeth, by far the most pleasant and companionable of Emma's sisters. She deserves a more decided and prosperous fate. Also, while the fates of the characters decidedly improve in Ms. Baker's hands, the tone of the story retains the melancholia with which Austen commenced. I would love to see someone finish this story in a manner that brings it in line with Austen's other works, allowing it to not only entertain and instruct, but also amuse. Perhaps one day I will take a stab at it myself.

I very much look forward to reading the rest of Ms. Baker's books, which include The Book of Ruth (a Pride and Prejudice sequel), Connivance (a Persuasion sequel focused on Mrs. Clay), Precipitation: A Continuation of Miss Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice (this one focuses on Miss Bingley), Playfulness (a Mansfield Park sequel focused on Miss Crawford), and Miss Jane Austen's Lady Susan: Revived. She has also written a variety of other books, all of which can be purchased in both paperback and pdf format from her Lulu.com storefront. Ms. Baker has agreed to do an interview with me, though I am waiting to read more of her novels before composing my questions. I urge everyone to read Ms. Baker's sadly overlooked books. They deserve far more attention than they have yet received.    

The Youngest Miss Ward by Joan Aiken

It has been a few years since I read a Joan Aiken book, which I why I have never previously commented on this blog about her work. Her novels were amongst the first I discovered when I started reading JAFF as she was very prolific, writing six Austen sequels. She deserves recognition as a I pioneer of the genre, and for her part in popularizing Austenesque and proving its profitability to the publishing industry I am eternally thankful. That being said, I do not love her novels. They have a sinister quality to them - wholly absent in Austen - that taints my ability to enjoy them. The Youngest Miss Ward is my fifth Aiken book. Before proceeding to my thoughts on it, I would like to comment on her other novels, in the order that I read them.

The Watsons and Emma Watson was my second JAFF ever. I had just finished reading the completion of Sanditon by "Another Lady" and yearned for a similar treatment of The Watsons. I mostly recall my disappointment, while the actual details of the story are hazy. I remember Ms. Aiken incorporated many fascinating historical details, including an agonizing trip to a dentist, but the predominant feature of the tale was its misery. Emma Watson is subjected to a series of outlandish degradations, her "happy ending" not ample enough compensation for the reader who has toiled through the plot. Very few of the characters in this story are likable: most are repulsive. I also wish she had done a seamless transition between Austen's work and her own, instead of splitting them into self-contained stories.

After disliking Emma Watson so much, perhaps it is surprising that I went on to read more of Ms. Aiken's novels, but as the book store was my first source for JAFF, the number of writers available was slim. Furthermore, Ms. Aiken had a book entitled Jane Fairfax, and I was itching for Emma retellings. I enjoyed this book far more than Emma Watson but found Ms. Aiken's animosity for Emma Woodhouse extremely disconcerting. The concept of the story from Jane Fairfax's perspective intrigued me enough to seek out another attempt that proved much more to my liking: Lover's Perjuries by Joan Ellen Delman. I had to purchase the book online, thereby opening a new world of reading options (including more Aiken novels) and hugely facilitating my growing JAFF addiction.

By now I had consumed a respectable sampling of published JAFF, but had yet to read anything pertaining to Austen's most controversial novel. Mansfield Park Revisited is probably my favorite book I have read by Ms. Aiken, despite the fact that Fanny and Edmund are totally absent from the plot (very irksome). Instead this story follows the developing friendship between Susan Price, happily ensconced at Mansfield, and Mary Crawford, who returns to the area as an invalid. Ms. Aiken paints a very sympathetic portrait of Mary, a subject for whom my sympathies cannot be engaged, especially when Fanny is neglected in her favor, but I love how she handles Susan, even though I can't quite like the match she makes for at the end.

Mansfield Park Revisited left me hungry for more of Aiken's work, quite curious to learn where else her fancies had led her. Eliza's Daughter tells the tale of the child born to Colonel Brandon's ward and Willoughby, the third generation of sad Elizas. This book bothers me in so many ways. First of all, we must believe that Colonel Brandon and Marianne would allow the child to grow up neglected and friendless and, secondly, when she encounters Elinor and Edward Ferrars, any hopes devotees of Sense and Sensibility had for happiness in the quarter are shattered by the dejection and poverty that encompasses their lives. Like Emma Watson, this book is an exploration of suffering and not at all to my liking.
 
After Eliza's Daughter I lost my interest in Ms. Aiken's work. The reason I finally picked up a copy of The Youngest Miss Ward is because I thought it would be about Francis Price, Fanny's mother, which I found irresistibly intriguing. I was wrong. After reading the first chapter and realizing that Ms. Aiken had invented a forth sister, Hatty, I put the book down in disgust and did not open it again for a month. However, I am very glad I picked it up again, in spite of the fact that the book has many of the qualities that I dislike in Ms. Aiken. It makes me resigned to pursuing Ms. Aiken's remaining Austenesque book, Lady Catherine's Necklace, it the not too distant future.

If we deplore the way in which Fanny is treated by Mrs. Norris, it is nothing to what Ms. Aiken subjects poor Hatty to in that same tormentor's hands. United with a formidable cousin, Lady Ursula, Mrs. Norris persecutes Hatty is the most unfeeling manner. Banishing her from her beloved mother when that lady is on her death bed, Hatty is sent to spend several years with her Uncle Ward's family. There she is fortunate to find a friend in both her Aunt Polly and her cousin Ned. She also meets the charming and eccentric Lord Camber who, aside from Lady Ursula and Mrs. Norris, has more direct influence over her life than anyone else she meets, before being unceremoniously thrust from the house due to little fault of her own. Fortunately, Hatty has a backbone, and despite being foisted off on Lady Ursula's family as a governess (which part of the book reminds me acutely of Agnes Grey), she takes control of her life and finds happiness. As with Susan Price in Mansfield Park Revisited, I cannot feel satisfied with the match she makes in the end, but overall I enjoyed the novel.

The sinister quality that I earlier applied to Miss Aiken is apparent in The Youngest Miss Ward, though not as prominent as in some of the other novels. Many of her character's are unjust, dictatorial, and sadistic. Lady Ursula and Mrs. Norris certainly fall into this category, though perhaps it's the former's redemption towards the end that makes this book more palatable than some of her others. Ms. Aiken frequently gives her characters handicaps (for example, Eliza in Eliza's Daughter has six fingers on each hand) thereby increasing the feeling of instability in the worlds she portrays. This feature of her work is particularly apparent in The Youngest Miss Ward, which features two eerie twin cousins, "forlorn and listless", who would probably be quite normal if nursed less, and Lady Ursula's sisters, the elder of whom is a kleptomaniac with a lazy eye, while her younger sister is a musical idiot savant. Yet through it all Hatty remains unbroken and undaunted. A poet, it is in one of her dreariest times that she composes this little witticism:

He 
Throws the ball to me
But I
throw it to him. Why?
I and Me, Him and He
What a fuss
when there are only two of us!

I don't know if it is Hatty's resilience that allows me to enjoy this book so much more than some of Ms. Aiken's others, or if it is the fact that her villainous characters are less effective in their persecution here than elsewhere. Perhaps my ever fluctuating mood has more to do with my response to her books than anything else. Regardless, anyone exploring JAFF will come across Ms. Aiken and, whether her work tickles your fancy or not, it is undeniable that she set many of the standards and conventions of the genre. I just wish she were more light, bright, and sparkling. If I wanted toil and hardship, I'd turn to the Brontes.