Commonplace 97 George & The Foolish Virgin. PART ONE.
We move from the delicious ghoulishness of Peter Ackroyd's imagination to the more unpleasant and frightening landscape of George's inner workings and thence on to one of his most repellent (in a very tough field!) short stories: The Foolish Virgin.
First, let's consider its origins. It was written between Wednesday, October 30th and Monday, November 4th 1895. Considering the short hours he worked daily, and the full day off he probably allowed himself at the weekend, the payment he received of £25.4.0 was money for jam - and about the same amount he offered as pay a full-time servant for a year's work. George really does take the biscuit every time he lectures someone about work - as well as displaying a serious lack of insight into his own psyche! But, tackle it he does - and harnesses it to another of his favourite hobby-horses: the pitiful aberration that is 'woman'. As he wrote an entire novel on the topic of 'woman and work' (The Odd Women, 1893), he must have believed himself to be an expert in this field. As I say, a serious lack of insight...
John Lane of the quarterly periodical, The Yellow Book, asked George to write some short stories, and The Foolish Virgin was published in Volume VIII in January 1896. Presumably George was happy to know Boston would be kept up to date with the doings of the young man who had rocked up there back in 1876, almost fresh from Manchester's Belle Vue Gaol.
So, what is The Foolish Virgin by our man all about? First, let's dispense with the Biblical parable of the Wise and Foolish Virgins - it is not based on that. He sort-of took the term and monkeyed with it, maybe to attract a male readership drawn to anything with the word 'virgin' in the title - The Yellow Book click had a reputation for filth...er, adult content. Maybe he thought ecclesiastical types were avid readers of such publications, and so would mistake it for a treatise on eschatology.
George's Foolish Virgin is called Rosamund. We know George liked clever-dick allusions in the names he gave to some characters; Rosamund was a figure in early English literature, clearly linked to knights in shining armour, ladies in ivory towers, and valour and nobility - which destined her to be a lady beloved of the Pre-Raphaelites.
Who was this literary, mythic 'Fair Rosamund'? Rosamund - 'Rose of the World' - was Rosamund Clifford, a consort to King Henry II. When his wife, Queen Eleanor, found out, Rosamund was given a choice between taking poison or stabbing herself: she chose poison. Well, that's the legend, embroidered to sell ballades and make English history even more romantically bloodthirsty than it was. It was just the sort of thing that appealed to the necrophile Pre-Raph Brethren, hence the many versions of her they committed to canvas. And she is the subject of many representations in Art throughout the Middle Ages. It will have appealed to George because the fable set two women against each other, with the wronged wife torturing the vanquished other women in vile and cruel ways - in some versions, Rosamund is boiled or roasted alive. We know George believed women were preternaturally cruel to their own sex whenever they got the chance, so his ears will have pricked up on hearing the tale. And he would have seen many of the paintings. By the time the Pre-Raphs had turned her story into a cliché of love and martyrdom, the Fair Rosamund had become a familiar short-cut to what was seen as an ancient, immutable English past, but which was, more or less, a conceit made up to authenticate a form of Englishness of myth, not reality, and a template for all that was feminine in womanhood, hoping to attract a lordly suitor.
So, is George's Rosamund based on this tale? No, I don't think so - it is too romantic and tragic and we can't help but have sympathy for the girl who is so badly treated. George has no sympathy whatsoever for his girl - in fact, the tale he tells is one where he sadistically sets her up for several humiliations which are delivered with all the spiteful glee George can muster.
George's The Foolish Virgin tells the story of a girl who has very few options. She has made bad choices and keeps on making them throughout the tale, for a number of reasons that George finds hard to forgive: 1) she is poor; 2) she is a woman 3) she hasn't got a job. The story opens with the fellow-lodgers in her boarding house discussing the behaviour of one of their number, the absent Mr Cheeseman - who has just gotten engaged to be married. It's clear they all know Rosamund thought she had first dibs on Mr Cheeseman: Humiliation Number One. She is, in fact, an Odd Woman - and, as George put it in a letter to Eduard Bertz apropos the theme of that novel: It deals with the women, who, from the marriage point of view, are superfluous. Poor Rosamund: superfluous.
George has an odd relationship with his creation: he describes her as being a...tall, slim person, with unremarkable, not ill-moulded features. Nature meant her to be graceful in form and pleasantly feminine of countenance; unwholesome habit of mind and body was responsible for the defects that now appeared in her. It's that male gaze once more (see Commonplaces 85-87) deciding what a woman should be like.
What is the 'unwholesome habit'? Failing to use a handkerchief? Not subscribing to George's narrow view of womanhood? Masturbation?
For a start, she is hoping to find a husband to support her, for she is without a sufficient independent income, and so is dependent on her brother. Now, in Isabel Clarendon, it's acceptable to the author to have a woman dependent on her brother - Mary ends up (after the usual ritual humiliation piled on her by her creator, the author) living in Norwich with her brother Bernard (what she has ever done to deserve Norwich is never explained haha!) But, The Foolish Virgin is considered a freeloader because she gets an allowance from her brother. Maybe this is a coded message for Algernon, who always required financial support from his older brother, though I wonder if George's little brother could be bothered to read these downbeat, unpleasant short stories. See Commonplace 11 for an explanation of how George's criminal past might have affected Algernon's ability to earn a living.
When the allowance is removed, Rosamund the Foolish V is forced to fall back on her own problem-solving skills.
Of course, George can't stop himself preaching on the faults of woman:
Her affections suffered, but that was not the worst. Her pride had never received so cruel a blow. After a life of degradation which might have unsexed her, Rosamund remained a woman. The practice of affectations numberless had taught her one truth, that she could never hope to charm save by reliance upon her feminine qualities. Boarding-house girls, such numbers of whom she had observed, seemed all intent upon disowning their womanhood; they cultivated masculine habits, wore as far as possible male attire, talked loud slang, threw scorn (among themselves at all events) upon domestic virtues; and not a few of them seemed to profit by the prevailing fashion. Rosamund had tried these tactics, always with conscious failure.
Is it me, or is George obsessed here with cross-dressing? Has he had some sort of encounter that shook his sense of masculinity? Transvestism was a music hall staple act, but cross-dressing of female to male in the street (we are in Sarah Walters/Peter Ackroyd country here) in the name of style or fun was no doubt one of the many thrills George observed in his perambulations about London town (or Brighton!). And what on earth are we to make of: After a life of degradation which might have unsexed her, Rosamund remained a woman? It is a common trick employed by George - to appear more gnomic than he really is. Maybe he thought it gave him gravitas. Is this some special code only a man would understand?
George's Rosamund (he gives her the surname 'Jewell', but this is obviously meant to be a sarcastic joke) has to formulate a plan. Cheeseman had been a rotter - but she was once drawn to a Mr Hunt. She moves to reignite this relationship, but it soon emerges he is not interested in her in her present form: she must, she thinks, change! Become the woman he might find acceptable. And, what is that? She asks him for advice: ... I am trying to find some way of being useful in the world. I am tired of living for myself. I seem to be such a useless creature. Surely even I must have some talent, which it's my duty to put to use? Where should I turn? Could you help me with a suggestion?
How does he respond? - well, George has him think this:
... he took it for granted, however, that Miss Jewell frequently used this language; doubtless it was part of her foolish, futile existence to talk of her soul's welfare, especially in tête-à-tête with unmarried men. Gnomic once more, with so much disdain for women thrown in for good measure.
She goes on:
... I fear I have never had a purpose in life - I'm sure I don't know why. Of course, I'm only a woman, but even women nowadays are doing so much. You don't despise their efforts, do you?
Mr Hunt replies: Not indiscriminately. He then goes on to tell her about a woman he knows who would be an excellent role model because she knows her purpose is : To keep house admirably, and bring up their children as well as possible, on an income which would hardly supply some women with shoe-leather. This paragon is married to a Mr Halliday and they would be the happiest couple in England if they had any money... They can't afford to engage a good servant (if one exists nowadays), and cheap sluts have driven them frantic, so that Mrs Halliday does everything with her own hands.
(Misogynist Novelist's note to wife, Edith: I'm thinking about you here, so think on, lady.)
Rosamund has a moment of inspiration - the sort that George had, then acted on, usually to bring about a worse situation and more problems to sort out for all involved. She writes to Hunt to let him know her financial predicament and make him give her the Hallidays' address so she can apply to them to be their servant. She tells him: No, I can't do anything but work with my hands. I am no good for anything else. Foolishly (!), she thinks this will make her a better woman in Mr Hunt's eyes. He writes back: If you are willing and able to carry out this project... You will have done your part towards solving one of the gravest problems of the time.
Now, George could have set this up so that he can deliver a story with a happy ending - Rosamund learns home-craft skills, develops self-esteem, earns an independent income, and wins a happy life based on what is natural justice - great suffering demands great salvation - despite men, not because of them. She could have been a success for other women to respect, a beacon of light to guide them on to realise there are alternatives to marriage and a life of under-achieving being beholden to a man who treats you like a chattel. But, then George would have to be a different person to do that! Rosamund doesn't understand the letter, and neither do we, the dozy readers, so George explains:
Rosamund did not at once understand; when the writer's meaning grew clear, she kept repeating the words, as though they were a new gospel. Yes! She would be working nobly, helping to show a way out of the great servant difficulty. It would be an example to poor ladies, like herself, who were ashamed of honest work.
So, no redemption through self-actualisation for Rosamund; only through being an over-worked, under-paid, under-appreciated slave. It says so much about George, don't you think? The world needs servants to keep house for men more than it needs to maximise the potential locked up inside a woman's mind?
JOIN ME IN PART TWO TO SEE HOW THIS PANS OUT AND TO EXPLORE GEORGE'S INSPIRATION FOR THE STORY.
We move from the delicious ghoulishness of Peter Ackroyd's imagination to the more unpleasant and frightening landscape of George's inner workings and thence on to one of his most repellent (in a very tough field!) short stories: The Foolish Virgin.
First, let's consider its origins. It was written between Wednesday, October 30th and Monday, November 4th 1895. Considering the short hours he worked daily, and the full day off he probably allowed himself at the weekend, the payment he received of £25.4.0 was money for jam - and about the same amount he offered as pay a full-time servant for a year's work. George really does take the biscuit every time he lectures someone about work - as well as displaying a serious lack of insight into his own psyche! But, tackle it he does - and harnesses it to another of his favourite hobby-horses: the pitiful aberration that is 'woman'. As he wrote an entire novel on the topic of 'woman and work' (The Odd Women, 1893), he must have believed himself to be an expert in this field. As I say, a serious lack of insight...
John Lane of the quarterly periodical, The Yellow Book, asked George to write some short stories, and The Foolish Virgin was published in Volume VIII in January 1896. Presumably George was happy to know Boston would be kept up to date with the doings of the young man who had rocked up there back in 1876, almost fresh from Manchester's Belle Vue Gaol.
So, what is The Foolish Virgin by our man all about? First, let's dispense with the Biblical parable of the Wise and Foolish Virgins - it is not based on that. He sort-of took the term and monkeyed with it, maybe to attract a male readership drawn to anything with the word 'virgin' in the title - The Yellow Book click had a reputation for filth...er, adult content. Maybe he thought ecclesiastical types were avid readers of such publications, and so would mistake it for a treatise on eschatology.
George's Foolish Virgin is called Rosamund. We know George liked clever-dick allusions in the names he gave to some characters; Rosamund was a figure in early English literature, clearly linked to knights in shining armour, ladies in ivory towers, and valour and nobility - which destined her to be a lady beloved of the Pre-Raphaelites.
 |
| Fair Rosamund by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (For a key to the symbolism of her red thread: click) |
Who was this literary, mythic 'Fair Rosamund'? Rosamund - 'Rose of the World' - was Rosamund Clifford, a consort to King Henry II. When his wife, Queen Eleanor, found out, Rosamund was given a choice between taking poison or stabbing herself: she chose poison. Well, that's the legend, embroidered to sell ballades and make English history even more romantically bloodthirsty than it was. It was just the sort of thing that appealed to the necrophile Pre-Raph Brethren, hence the many versions of her they committed to canvas. And she is the subject of many representations in Art throughout the Middle Ages. It will have appealed to George because the fable set two women against each other, with the wronged wife torturing the vanquished other women in vile and cruel ways - in some versions, Rosamund is boiled or roasted alive. We know George believed women were preternaturally cruel to their own sex whenever they got the chance, so his ears will have pricked up on hearing the tale. And he would have seen many of the paintings. By the time the Pre-Raphs had turned her story into a cliché of love and martyrdom, the Fair Rosamund had become a familiar short-cut to what was seen as an ancient, immutable English past, but which was, more or less, a conceit made up to authenticate a form of Englishness of myth, not reality, and a template for all that was feminine in womanhood, hoping to attract a lordly suitor.
So, is George's Rosamund based on this tale? No, I don't think so - it is too romantic and tragic and we can't help but have sympathy for the girl who is so badly treated. George has no sympathy whatsoever for his girl - in fact, the tale he tells is one where he sadistically sets her up for several humiliations which are delivered with all the spiteful glee George can muster.
 |
| Queen Eleanor and The Fair Rosamund by Evelyn de Morgan - that red thread, once more |
George has an odd relationship with his creation: he describes her as being a...tall, slim person, with unremarkable, not ill-moulded features. Nature meant her to be graceful in form and pleasantly feminine of countenance; unwholesome habit of mind and body was responsible for the defects that now appeared in her. It's that male gaze once more (see Commonplaces 85-87) deciding what a woman should be like.
What is the 'unwholesome habit'? Failing to use a handkerchief? Not subscribing to George's narrow view of womanhood? Masturbation?
 |
| Fair Rosamund and Queen Eleanor by Frank Cadogan Cowper |
When the allowance is removed, Rosamund the Foolish V is forced to fall back on her own problem-solving skills.
Of course, George can't stop himself preaching on the faults of woman:
Her affections suffered, but that was not the worst. Her pride had never received so cruel a blow. After a life of degradation which might have unsexed her, Rosamund remained a woman. The practice of affectations numberless had taught her one truth, that she could never hope to charm save by reliance upon her feminine qualities. Boarding-house girls, such numbers of whom she had observed, seemed all intent upon disowning their womanhood; they cultivated masculine habits, wore as far as possible male attire, talked loud slang, threw scorn (among themselves at all events) upon domestic virtues; and not a few of them seemed to profit by the prevailing fashion. Rosamund had tried these tactics, always with conscious failure.
Is it me, or is George obsessed here with cross-dressing? Has he had some sort of encounter that shook his sense of masculinity? Transvestism was a music hall staple act, but cross-dressing of female to male in the street (we are in Sarah Walters/Peter Ackroyd country here) in the name of style or fun was no doubt one of the many thrills George observed in his perambulations about London town (or Brighton!). And what on earth are we to make of: After a life of degradation which might have unsexed her, Rosamund remained a woman? It is a common trick employed by George - to appear more gnomic than he really is. Maybe he thought it gave him gravitas. Is this some special code only a man would understand?
 |
| Fair Ros again - by George Woolliscroft Rhead Jr |
How does he respond? - well, George has him think this:
... he took it for granted, however, that Miss Jewell frequently used this language; doubtless it was part of her foolish, futile existence to talk of her soul's welfare, especially in tête-à-tête with unmarried men. Gnomic once more, with so much disdain for women thrown in for good measure.
She goes on:
... I fear I have never had a purpose in life - I'm sure I don't know why. Of course, I'm only a woman, but even women nowadays are doing so much. You don't despise their efforts, do you?
Mr Hunt replies: Not indiscriminately. He then goes on to tell her about a woman he knows who would be an excellent role model because she knows her purpose is : To keep house admirably, and bring up their children as well as possible, on an income which would hardly supply some women with shoe-leather. This paragon is married to a Mr Halliday and they would be the happiest couple in England if they had any money... They can't afford to engage a good servant (if one exists nowadays), and cheap sluts have driven them frantic, so that Mrs Halliday does everything with her own hands.
(Misogynist Novelist's note to wife, Edith: I'm thinking about you here, so think on, lady.)
Rosamund has a moment of inspiration - the sort that George had, then acted on, usually to bring about a worse situation and more problems to sort out for all involved. She writes to Hunt to let him know her financial predicament and make him give her the Hallidays' address so she can apply to them to be their servant. She tells him: No, I can't do anything but work with my hands. I am no good for anything else. Foolishly (!), she thinks this will make her a better woman in Mr Hunt's eyes. He writes back: If you are willing and able to carry out this project... You will have done your part towards solving one of the gravest problems of the time.
 |
| FR In Her Bower by William Bell Scott |
Rosamund did not at once understand; when the writer's meaning grew clear, she kept repeating the words, as though they were a new gospel. Yes! She would be working nobly, helping to show a way out of the great servant difficulty. It would be an example to poor ladies, like herself, who were ashamed of honest work.
So, no redemption through self-actualisation for Rosamund; only through being an over-worked, under-paid, under-appreciated slave. It says so much about George, don't you think? The world needs servants to keep house for men more than it needs to maximise the potential locked up inside a woman's mind?
JOIN ME IN PART TWO TO SEE HOW THIS PANS OUT AND TO EXPLORE GEORGE'S INSPIRATION FOR THE STORY.
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