Dear Serial Readers,
The election of all elections in this installment--but, as some of you have pointed out, an election devoid of political views. What emerges in these chapters, though, is who gets to vote, and who does not. Reform Bill debates were whirling in spring 1866 when this installment appeared. Would extending the franchise to some of working class men help Conservatives or Liberals at the polls? The Reform Bill, introduced in 1866, debated and altered and finally passed in 1867, was meant to enfranchise only "respectable" urban working men and exclude unskilled poor men by a householder stipulation. This issue of voting reform was so charged due to speculations about how new voters would aid or hurt political parties--there were demonstrations in several cities as the Reform League called for universal suffrage. And while "universal suffrgage" typically meant only men, the question of women voting was also in the air. Oliphant published an article, "The Great Unrepresented" in Sept. 1866 in Blackwood's where she notes that despite being taxpayers and householders, and even contributors to the pages of "Maga" (ie Blackwood's), "we are supposed unable to decide whether Mr Smith or Mr Jones is the best man for the borough." Yet Oliphant declines John Stuart Mill's call for women's suffrage. I was surprised to learn that it wasn't until 1918 that British legislation enfranchised all male resident householders over 21 and women over 30 who met property qualifications, and not until 1928 was there equality for women and men voters.
What we do hear about in these pages are the various boroughs of voters for the Carlingford member, from Grange Lane to Grove Street to the bargemen of Wharfside, "many of them, freemen, and a very difficult part of the populartion, excited the most vivid interest." All this flurry about voting propels the start of the installment, the only installment launched without Lucilla in view. As a woman, she is cast to the background about voting reform and the election. Even her former servant Thomas, now "an independent householder," has a vote it seems.
Lucilla's participation in politics is through proxy, through her selection of "the best man" for Carlingford. But now it appears this "best man" is not the best man for her. That frantic bell-ringing that interrupts Ashburton's proposal at the end of the installment heralds, no doubt, cousin Tom fresh from India. All Lucilla's pounding heart here suggests she's swayed by the love match for her cousin (the cousin about whom she seemed to hold a pragmatic older sister attitude early on) over the marriage of political and financial and social merit. But this familiar choice perhaps is the closest Lucilla can achieve to her past reign in her father's house; at least by marrying Tom, she remains Lucilla Marjoribanks, or becomes Mrs Marjoribanks.
I much prefer Lucilla's sealskin coat over Barbara's tin dress, that's for sure. Even so, I'm glad Cavendish and Barbara appear to be on the verge of marrying. For a novel to conclude with two women "gone off" in age at least and marrying too seems rather remarkable.
Next time--the final installment!
In some serial suspense,
Serial Susan
3 comments:
I've been one of the silent readers and appreciators of this novel and the comments you have all made. What has particularly delighted me about Oliphant, in this age of tweeting and twittering, are the long and convoluted sentences, allowing the English language to expand and breathe in all its glory. I've enjoyed it all, including the digressions, like the compassionate one she made about Cavendish after his loss of the election. I agree with the reader that felt this writer deserves to be more widely known.
It feels at the end of this chapter, as we enter the coda, like a long musical symphony, especially with bells tolling the entry to the final movement. Bring it on!
Thanks Serial Susan and Reader Ann and all the rest for a great ride.
Reader Marianne
I loved the election scene, with Lucilla's concern for Cavendish, the running back and forth with news, the sense of excitement, motion, whispering, and uncertainty. And the imprudent sharing of tea with half the town.
At the beginning of part two I was bored, but.I have ended up enjoying Cavendish and Barbara, Lucilla's careful planning of her future, the idea that any career needs a new challenge after ten years, and the Different motivations between Mrs. Johns and Miss Marjoribanks.
I'm looking forward to reading the intro when I'm done with the plot!
I spent some time thinking about the question posed by another reader some weeks back: why do [I] like Lucilla? I came up with some answers (persistence, etc.), but then I realized these traits are also found in some characters I found downright unattractive. I now think it is generally her compassion, and her self-confidence that never seems to turn defensive. But no answer seems fully satisfactory other than Mrs. Elephant likes her and describes her so affectionately.
Well, I just submitted a long comment on _Miss M_ that was somehow zapped by google! But I will try to reconstruct.
I've had to play catchup with _Miss M_ (mea culpa), but nonetheless am struck by how Oliphant's narrator manages to sustain a remarkably deft, generous, and detached narrative voice at this late point--especially towards Cavendish and his exploits (the allegorical battle between "Pleasure" and "Duty"). I find this generosity both a striking analogue to Lucilla's own position and to a greater emotional process of gendered social/political negotiation--something that must have spoken pointedly to the women readers on the sidelines (as Serial Susan notes!).
I also continue to admire Oliphant's carefully drawn status contests between shopkeepers and "artists" (Cavendish's association with Barbara being "a still more deadly offence to the small people than to the great"). The novel's social consciousness has opened up from Lucilla's early parties to a broader (but still very domestically and morally inflected) awareness of the social realm.
Finally, like my fellow readers, I'm intrigued by the ringing of "Papa's bell"--the "Dead Hand" anyone? I can't resist comparing _Miss M_ and _Middlemarch_ here, although I do think Oliphant is certainly worthy of consideration on her own!
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