POOR MISS FINCH by Wilkie Collins

POOR MISS FINCH by Wilkie Collins

07 February 2010

Wives and Daughters: #18 (chap 60 + postscript)--Jan. 1866

Dear Serial Readers,

One thing for sure: Gaskell is a far superior writer, in my estimation, than Frederick Greenwood! The clash between their styles and voices made this closure especially jarring for me. Greenwood of course has nothing much to add to the plot--so our questions about the Gibson marriage, Lady Harriet, Mr. Preston, etc. are not addressed. After embellishing the predictable (Roger returns and marries Molly), Greenwood's postscript is more along the lines of a review. And here I was quite fascinated by his discussion of Cynthia--"one of the most difficult characters which have ever been attempted in our time"--and his comparison between her and Eliot's Tito! Greenwood credits Eliot with the finer "splendid achievement" over Gaskell's Cynthia, but then Lewes was the editor of *The Cornhill* while Greenwood was the sub-editor (and Eliot was Lewes's "wife"). All the attention Greenwood pays to Cynthia and Osborne both highlighted the novel's similarity to sensation fiction, and at the same time he begged to differ, to defend Gaskell's fiction from other popular novels that present "an abominable wicked world, crawling with selfishness and reeking with base passions."

Yet in a way I found what Gaskell had written, even to the last trivial words from Mrs. G who delights over news that her well-married daughter is bringing her a new shawl, is more compatible with Gaskell's usual mild closures, such as we have in *North and South* where the key marriage is merely on the horizon, and the closing words are not words of romance or future events. I did feel slightly uneasy at the repetition of Roger's farewell--complete with Molly (who has to compete with her stepmother at the window) watching his departure, and his "last turning." See the lovely rain-streaked illustration, his white handkerchief like a flag of romantic surrender, bright in the gloomy atmosphere--but Molly doesn't know this surrender for sure. Given the accentuated comparison with Roger's first leave-taking for Africa, and the assorted turn of events he found when he came home, this ending does seem to me rather suspended, unfinished, yet perhaps in keeping with a new kind of closure Gaskell explores. I couldn't help but think of the ending of Bronte's *Villette* too, the obligatory trip across the British Empire that defers the promised reunion of the lovers. For those of you who don't know this novel, Bronte supplied two possible outcomes: shipwreck and death during the homeward voyage, and a miraculous return.

As for Josh's interesting comment about external and internal obstacles to marriage plots: I did think there was one "external" issue regarding Molly and Roger--namely, money. And this seems to be addressed on both sides: Mr. G tells Roger that Molly does have an inheritance that he hasn't told her about; and in the postscript Greenwood tells us that Roger becomes a professor at a scientific institution (sounds more like Huxley here than Darwin) and "wins his way in the world handsomely." Money is that key external obstacle that rears its head in most every Victorian novel!

Perhaps the most satisfying element of closure was the arrangement for Aimee and the young heir to live so close to the squire, but in their own separate place--a different composition of a family here.

Now, for future reading, dear Serial Readers! I relish shorter fiction for a while, in part because I'll be in London during the month of March and have less time and access for blogging around. Here's my proposal for the next two items: Collins's story "Miss or Mrs?" over two weeks, and then Gaskell's "Cousin Phillis" and other Gaskell magazine stories. Collins's story is rather long for the one issue of *The Graphic* in which it appeared (the special Christmas issue of December 1871). It's arranged as a drama in 12 scenes, so for next week, scenes 1-6, and then the rest for Feb. 21. Again you can download this story from Project Gutenberg or from MANY BOOKS, a very user-friendly website of free books with many downloading formats available (for Kindle, for other devices, as pdfs etc).

Serially somewhat satisfied,
Susan

5 comments:

Kari said...

Yes, that pesky money! I also noted the low-key ending, as Susan pointed out, and wondered if Mrs. Gaskell had saved something a bit more exciting for a later chapter. This last chapter we have seems all over the place to me, but I didn't sit and think about whether there are other such chapters with so much variety in them.
I found Mrs. Gibson's focus on herself delightful in this chapter, perhaps because now everyone acknowledges how she is and is prepared for her selfishness and no one is very harmed. I also appreciate that even when she is jealous of Cynthia for marrying a wealthy man, she at least spares a word of appreciation for her husband.

I liked that Roger had to wait until his return to declare himself to Molly--it seemed that if something were to happen to him in the trip, it might be easier for her to recover emotionally if they had never pledged their love.

I meant to add to the last weeks' comments, because none of us talked about the regrettable comments about Africa, but the one I especially enjoyed was Mrs. G. ruminating about the "extraordinary" food that poor Roger must have had to eat on his trip! It's also somewhat fascinating that Africa is portrayed mostly as the dark continent--unknown to science, etc.--with the domesticating worried about food and Mr. G's odd parody of a slave dialect, the much more domesticated and controlled view of Africans.

And the mellifluous (ahem) Frederick Greenwood's comparison of Cynthia to Tito was intriguing--I guess I find both characters splendid in their varying ways.

So, to Collins it is! I wish I were coming to London with you, Serial Susan. But perhaps you can tell us all the latest hat fashions in your letters.

Serial Susan said...

Thanks Kari for your comments! I forgot to mention the absurd ending of this story in the BBC adaptation! Because I'd raved about the film version of *Wives* I did want to modify my acclaim in light of the ending: Molly runs out in the rain, Roger proposes, Molly accepts. The very final scene, after a farewell party for the happy couple, shows them rambling across some vast plateau in Africa! And to add insult to inauthentic injury, Molly is wearing a safari outfit--fitted trousers with boots too! Did anyone else see the film and have thoughts?

Unknown said...

Good call on the money as external obstacle -- I guess I'm so used to Victorian novels having the money issue that I almost take it for granted! It's interesting that people still perceive Victorian fiction as sentimental, when the novels are always pretty happy to acknowledge the financial problems that keep people apart or make certain marriages seem more desirable.

Well, I knew the novel was left unfinished, but I was still disappointed not to get Gaskell's version of the end. Greenwood's conclusion was, um, not a very satisfying alternative. I was happy to see Mr. Gibson give a very accurate description of Cynthia, though, and his interaction with Roger was fun.

I'm looking forward to the Collins and Gaskell short stories -- I've read very little short fiction from the period and will be curious to see how these novelists adapt to a much shorter form.

Daun said...

How interesting it is to see that the last word written by Gaskell's hand is about Mrs. G's "new shawl"! I was also intrigued by the followng editorial intervention whose genre is all mixed in the forms of a partial obituary (a metapor of a writing column and a white pillar for Gaskell's death), a summarization of the remaining narrative events (justifying his reflection and speculation about the authorial "delicate strong hand"'s original designs for the closure), and a literary review (comparison between sensationalism and realism, as Susan said). Overall, it was really curious to see how the Cornhill editor finishes off the final issue of the serial "Wives and Daughters" after the sudden death of the author.

As in other contemporary literary reviews on Gaskell, Frederick Greenwood emphasizes Gaskell's quality as "the woman" interweaving her literary feats with her biographical traits---so the last sentence ends with "a wise, good woman." I think this contributes to the making of "Mrs. Gaskell" as a rather feminized version of Elizabeth Gaskell.

I forgot to mention in the last installment that the scene where Molly gives Roger a rose flower so reminded me of the ending scene of /North and South/--so exchange of flowers, marriage and money(and sexuality)---always lingering themes of Victorian novels!

Julia said...

I've been away from this blog for a while, but I want to write a few comments on the ending of Gaskell's extraordinary novel!

One point that struck me as really profound, given Gaskell's unexpected death mid-installment, is the way she paints illness and the specter of loss through death as a catalyst for healing differences. For Squire Hamley and Aimee, young Roger's illness and the possibility of his death acts like "tearing down a curtain that had been between them; they have been rather friends than otherwise ever since" (p. 675). This is a nice counterpart to Mrs. Gibson's troubling views on illness as the means of getting ahead.

As for the editor's ending--I too was skeptical that we could be *sure* that Roger Hamley would marry Molly. I felt there were still considerable obstacles, especially given the attention to illness throughout the novel and particularly during Roger's prior trip to Africa.

I paused at the editor's comments about Cynthia, too. Why, I wonder, is *she* so much harder to draw than other characters? And surely her treachery (if we want to call jilting treachery) is not at all comparable to Tito's!

Finally, I wondered at the biographical bent at the end of the editor's conclusion. Why focus on Gaskell's status as a "wise, good woman" rather than a great novelist. I've just been reading Austen's Northanger Abbey, and Austen's brother's preface also focused on the woman (and her moral qualities) rather than her status as an artist. Can anyone think of similar examples with male novelists? I'd be curious to find something comparable.

I'm looking forward to reading Collins next, and staying on top of posting this time around.