Group read: Zoe by Geraldine Jewsbury
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1lyzard
Zoe: The History Of Two Lives by Geraldine Jewsbury (1845)
"Well," said Zoe, "I must have the last word in right of my sex; I don't see how people, if left to themselves, could contrive to be much worse than they are now, under the government of a religion that not one in ten bestows a serious thought upon, and that not a great proportion amongst those who do think on the subject, believe in at all. Don't you think it would be possible to teach people, and to make them feel that to do right is to act wisely, even in a mere worldly sense?... If we would but simply do what is right, and dispense with the cumbrous machinery of policy and second motives---if we would but eschew the false wisdom of expediency, there would not be so many elaborate blunders committed; we should be wiser, and bid fair to become greater that we have ever yet been."
2lyzard
Welcome to the group read of Geraldine Jewsbury's Zoe: The History Of Two Lives, the next entry in our Virago Chronological Read Project.
This seems to be one of the lesser-known Viragos, and also deals with some fairly historically specific material; so I will try to provide some background information that will help put this novel into its correct context.
*************
Geraldine Endsor Jewsbury was born in 1812, and grew up in Manchester. After the death of her mother when Geraldine was only six, she was raised by her sister, Maria, who was a poet and essayist. As a young woman, Geraldine became part of an intellectual and artistic circle that included Thomas and Jane Carlyle, Elizabeth Gaskell, Thomas Huxley, John Ruskin, and Dante and Christina Rossetti.
Geraldine Jewsbury was an unconventional and (to Victorian society) often shocking figure. She never married, although she seems to have several affairs, with women as well as men; at the very least she was addicted to deeply emotional friendships (which were clearly trying for the objects of them). The most famous of these is that which existed between herself and Jane Carlyle, which survived in spite of much emotional upheaval and the two women's disapproval of one another's way of life. (Jane died suddenly, so Geraldine's letters to her survive; Geraldine destroyed Jane's half of the correspondence before her own death.)
During the 1840s, Geraldine began writing fiction. Her first work, which would become Zoe: The History Of Two Lives, was proposed as a collaboration between herself, Jane Carlyle and Elizabeth Paulet, a friend who shated Geraldine's burgeoning feminist views. Jane soon withdrew from the project, although she read and criticised the first draft of the novel; it is unclear how much Elizabeth had to do with the writing; but in any event, when the novel was published in 1845 it bore Geraldine's name only.
Geraldine Jewsbury went on to write five more novels, numerous short stories, and essays and newspaper articles, many of them concerning women's lives. However, she supported herself chiefly as a literary critic for the literary magazine, Athenaeum, for which it is estimated she wrote some 1,600 reviews.
************
The mid-19th century was a time of religious upheaval in England. The so-called "Oxford Movement" saw a sudden resurgence of religious faith, which had become moribund during the late 18th and early 19th century. However, this call for a return to "real English religion" had the side-effect of making many people stop and think about their faith, with unforeseen consequences. On one hand there was a move away from Protestantism towards Catholicism, which those making the move argued was "the real English religion"; and conversely, many people began to experience doubt, particularly in the face of the factional brawling that occurring, not just between the Catholics and Protestants, but within the various Protestant factions.
Not surprisingly, this public focus upon religion was accompanied by an upsurge in novels about religion, faith and doubt. Many of them were written to uphold the faith, but a few began to appear that openly expressed religiously scepticism, and questioned the value of the Church, if not religion itself, to society and to individuals. The most famous of these novels is probably Mary Humphrey Ward's Robert Elsmere, which was published in 1888. More than forty years before, however, came Zoe, which was perhaps the first English "novel of doubt".
Many of the century's religious novels have an autobiographical component, and this is true of Zoe, in which Geraldine Jewsbury expresses her own struggles with faith and doubt. The novel was considered scandalous for its overarching themes and for its unconventional (to say the least) heroine, but it became best-seller, a succès de scandale.
This seems to be one of the lesser-known Viragos, and also deals with some fairly historically specific material; so I will try to provide some background information that will help put this novel into its correct context.
*************
Geraldine Endsor Jewsbury was born in 1812, and grew up in Manchester. After the death of her mother when Geraldine was only six, she was raised by her sister, Maria, who was a poet and essayist. As a young woman, Geraldine became part of an intellectual and artistic circle that included Thomas and Jane Carlyle, Elizabeth Gaskell, Thomas Huxley, John Ruskin, and Dante and Christina Rossetti.
Geraldine Jewsbury was an unconventional and (to Victorian society) often shocking figure. She never married, although she seems to have several affairs, with women as well as men; at the very least she was addicted to deeply emotional friendships (which were clearly trying for the objects of them). The most famous of these is that which existed between herself and Jane Carlyle, which survived in spite of much emotional upheaval and the two women's disapproval of one another's way of life. (Jane died suddenly, so Geraldine's letters to her survive; Geraldine destroyed Jane's half of the correspondence before her own death.)
During the 1840s, Geraldine began writing fiction. Her first work, which would become Zoe: The History Of Two Lives, was proposed as a collaboration between herself, Jane Carlyle and Elizabeth Paulet, a friend who shated Geraldine's burgeoning feminist views. Jane soon withdrew from the project, although she read and criticised the first draft of the novel; it is unclear how much Elizabeth had to do with the writing; but in any event, when the novel was published in 1845 it bore Geraldine's name only.
Geraldine Jewsbury went on to write five more novels, numerous short stories, and essays and newspaper articles, many of them concerning women's lives. However, she supported herself chiefly as a literary critic for the literary magazine, Athenaeum, for which it is estimated she wrote some 1,600 reviews.
************
The mid-19th century was a time of religious upheaval in England. The so-called "Oxford Movement" saw a sudden resurgence of religious faith, which had become moribund during the late 18th and early 19th century. However, this call for a return to "real English religion" had the side-effect of making many people stop and think about their faith, with unforeseen consequences. On one hand there was a move away from Protestantism towards Catholicism, which those making the move argued was "the real English religion"; and conversely, many people began to experience doubt, particularly in the face of the factional brawling that occurring, not just between the Catholics and Protestants, but within the various Protestant factions.
Not surprisingly, this public focus upon religion was accompanied by an upsurge in novels about religion, faith and doubt. Many of them were written to uphold the faith, but a few began to appear that openly expressed religiously scepticism, and questioned the value of the Church, if not religion itself, to society and to individuals. The most famous of these novels is probably Mary Humphrey Ward's Robert Elsmere, which was published in 1888. More than forty years before, however, came Zoe, which was perhaps the first English "novel of doubt".
Many of the century's religious novels have an autobiographical component, and this is true of Zoe, in which Geraldine Jewsbury expresses her own struggles with faith and doubt. The novel was considered scandalous for its overarching themes and for its unconventional (to say the least) heroine, but it became best-seller, a succès de scandale.
3lyzard
Zoe: The History Of Two Lives was originally published in three volumes:
Volume I, Chapters I - XV
Volume II, Chapters I - XVI
Volume III, Chapters I - XX
(51 chapters in all)
The Virago release of Zoe maintains the original structure, with chapters numbered within volumes. If this is not how *your* edition of Zoe is laid out, please let us know so that we can annotate our posts accordingly.
As people would know, I don't like to lay down hard "rules" for these group reads, however I do think they go better if we set a minimum pace. Therefore, I would suggest that we try for a baseline of two chapters per day.
When posting, please indicate what chapter you are referring to in bold.
Experience shows that these group reads work best with lots of input from our participants, so please do post all comments and questions.
It should also be noted that although it falls under the umbrella of "19th century novel of doubt", Zoe is a work of historical fiction, set about one hundred years before it was written, and featuring many references to real people and events of that time. If there is anything or anyone that you don't recognise or understand, please post and say so! This will certainly be helpful for others beside yourself.
Volume I, Chapters I - XV
Volume II, Chapters I - XVI
Volume III, Chapters I - XX
(51 chapters in all)
The Virago release of Zoe maintains the original structure, with chapters numbered within volumes. If this is not how *your* edition of Zoe is laid out, please let us know so that we can annotate our posts accordingly.
As people would know, I don't like to lay down hard "rules" for these group reads, however I do think they go better if we set a minimum pace. Therefore, I would suggest that we try for a baseline of two chapters per day.
When posting, please indicate what chapter you are referring to in bold.
Experience shows that these group reads work best with lots of input from our participants, so please do post all comments and questions.
It should also be noted that although it falls under the umbrella of "19th century novel of doubt", Zoe is a work of historical fiction, set about one hundred years before it was written, and featuring many references to real people and events of that time. If there is anything or anyone that you don't recognise or understand, please post and say so! This will certainly be helpful for others beside yourself.
4lyzard
Zoe seems to be one of the less easily accessed Virago releases. For those wishing to purchase a copy, I note that there seem to be several inexpensive copies currently available on Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk, or through AbeBooks.
Otherwise, the novel is available online. It can be downloaded through Google Books. (For those of you in America, with correct permissions, the same edition can be accessed through the HathiTrust.)
Volume I
Volume II
Volume III
Zoe is also available to read online through A Celebration Of Women Writers.
Otherwise, the novel is available online. It can be downloaded through Google Books. (For those of you in America, with correct permissions, the same edition can be accessed through the HathiTrust.)
Volume I
Volume II
Volume III
Zoe is also available to read online through A Celebration Of Women Writers.
6souloftherose
I'm in!
>2 lyzard: Thanks for the background Liz - very interesting.
I had a brief moment of panic when although I remembered buying the Virago edition of Zoe earlier this year I couldn't remember where I'd put it (possibly a sign that the piles of unread books are getting out of control)! I've found it now and my Virago copy has the structure you outline in >3 lyzard:.
>2 lyzard: Thanks for the background Liz - very interesting.
I had a brief moment of panic when although I remembered buying the Virago edition of Zoe earlier this year I couldn't remember where I'd put it (possibly a sign that the piles of unread books are getting out of control)! I've found it now and my Virago copy has the structure you outline in >3 lyzard:.
7lauralkeet
I'll have a go!
>2 lyzard: echoing Heather's appreciation for this background information.
>3 lyzard:, >4 lyzard: Not long after we determined this would be our May read, I went off in search of a copy. I found a Kindle version for $1.99 or similar, although it has no table or contents or pagination. Argh. However, knowing there are 51 chapters and how they divide across the volumes is enormously helpful. I think I also saw elsewhere that the book is about 450 pages in print, is that correct?
A little math based on those assumptions tells me 2 chapters/day is reasonable :)
>2 lyzard: echoing Heather's appreciation for this background information.
>3 lyzard:, >4 lyzard: Not long after we determined this would be our May read, I went off in search of a copy. I found a Kindle version for $1.99 or similar, although it has no table or contents or pagination. Argh. However, knowing there are 51 chapters and how they divide across the volumes is enormously helpful. I think I also saw elsewhere that the book is about 450 pages in print, is that correct?
A little math based on those assumptions tells me 2 chapters/day is reasonable :)
8CDVicarage
I bought and read this Virago in the early 80s but then disposed of it during one of my many moves - something I obviously regret now. anyway I've bought a kindle copy, which has its chapters numbered in the same way, and shall be reading along.
I've just finished chapter 1 and find I remember nothing about it at all - well it was over thirty years ago.
I've just finished chapter 1 and find I remember nothing about it at all - well it was over thirty years ago.
9lyzard
Welcome, Heather, Laura and Kerry!
The Virago edition is about 415 pages, not counting the introduction (which of course you should not read!) If you need it, Laura, we can post closing phrases from chapters for you to use as 'landmarks'; we've done that before.
The Virago edition is about 415 pages, not counting the introduction (which of course you should not read!) If you need it, Laura, we can post closing phrases from chapters for you to use as 'landmarks'; we've done that before.
10lauralkeet
Fortunately, Liz, the chapters are clearly marked as you read. I just wish the ebook had the usual features that allow you to navigate and gauge progress. There's no way to easily tell how long a chapter will be, or to use the "goto" feature to move to a specific volume or chapter.
I just read the first two chapters and found them relatively easy going. A pleasant read so far although I feel sorry for younger son Everhard.
I noticed there are certain phrases in the text which appear between quotation marks, but are not dialogue. What is this supposed to mean?
I just read the first two chapters and found them relatively easy going. A pleasant read so far although I feel sorry for younger son Everhard.
I noticed there are certain phrases in the text which appear between quotation marks, but are not dialogue. What is this supposed to mean?
11lyzard
References and quotes---and there are a LOT of them! Some of them are traceable, some of them seem to be allusions to current material that Jewsbury's contemporaries would have recognised. We will be able to identify the origins of some of them as we go, though certainly not all.
12lyzard
Volume I, Chapter I
The first couple are easy enough, so what the heck?
"like Mrs Gilpin, 'she had a prudent mind'" - The Diverting History Of John Gilpin was a comic ballad by William Cowper, published in 1782; later he wrote a sequel called The Humorous Story Of Mrs Gilpin's Return From Edmonton.
"carved work with axes and hammers" - the first of many Bible quotes, a reworking of the 74th psalm (They seem like men who lift up / Axes among the thick trees. / And now they break down its carved work, all at once, / With axes and hammers). In context it is specifically a reference to the destruction of church decorations under Oliver Cromwell, but this was also a phrase commonly used to describe any attack upon religion or the Church.
The first couple are easy enough, so what the heck?
"like Mrs Gilpin, 'she had a prudent mind'" - The Diverting History Of John Gilpin was a comic ballad by William Cowper, published in 1782; later he wrote a sequel called The Humorous Story Of Mrs Gilpin's Return From Edmonton.
"carved work with axes and hammers" - the first of many Bible quotes, a reworking of the 74th psalm (They seem like men who lift up / Axes among the thick trees. / And now they break down its carved work, all at once, / With axes and hammers). In context it is specifically a reference to the destruction of church decorations under Oliver Cromwell, but this was also a phrase commonly used to describe any attack upon religion or the Church.
13lyzard
The "two lives" of the novel's title refer to the characters of Zoe Gifford, who we won't meet for several chapters, and Everhard Burrows, who is introduced at the outset. As the narrative is usually interpreted, Zoe and Everhard represent two different aspects of Geraldine Jewsbury's life: Zoe illustrates her struggle with 19th century ideas of womanhood and the question of what sort of woman she "should" be, or try to be; whereas Everhard's story reflects her religious doubts and difficulties. Zoe is, therefore, an autobiographical novel, but a peculiar one.
14Sakerfalcon
I will be starting this in the next day or so. I'm looking forward to it!
15rainpebble
I began last night but only managed a few pages before I woke with the book on my nose. The bit that I read did encourage me to go on.
17lyzard
As Laura already touched upon, Chapter II offers a painful sketch of the life of an un-favourite child. Of course under a system of primogeniture the singling out of the oldest son was inevitable, but this feels to me much more like the expression of a personal grievance.
Zoe is a curiously toned novel, with overwrought melodrama punctuated by flashes of genuine humour. We get the first intimation of the latter here, with Everhard's unanswerable argument:
"My brother is never punished," said Everhard, sobbing, "he has every thing he wishes for, and every body loves him. What have I done to be left at home?"
Father Martin could hardly find in his heart to rebuke this natural burst of passion; at length he said, "Come, come, my child, you know anger is sinful, recollect the saints were all tried a great deal more than you are, and yet they never gave way to temper, and you must not envy your brother; you are told to love him better than yourself; and besides, if you don't love your own brother, how can you pretend to love the saints and Jesus Christ whom you never saw?"
"Well, but they do not vex me; they are never spiteful to me as he is," sobbed Everhard.
Zoe is a curiously toned novel, with overwrought melodrama punctuated by flashes of genuine humour. We get the first intimation of the latter here, with Everhard's unanswerable argument:
"My brother is never punished," said Everhard, sobbing, "he has every thing he wishes for, and every body loves him. What have I done to be left at home?"
Father Martin could hardly find in his heart to rebuke this natural burst of passion; at length he said, "Come, come, my child, you know anger is sinful, recollect the saints were all tried a great deal more than you are, and yet they never gave way to temper, and you must not envy your brother; you are told to love him better than yourself; and besides, if you don't love your own brother, how can you pretend to love the saints and Jesus Christ whom you never saw?"
"Well, but they do not vex me; they are never spiteful to me as he is," sobbed Everhard.
18lyzard
There are more quotes in Chapter II (do people want me to keep doing this? - happy to either go on or stop, as you prefer):
"bear no brothers near the throne" - Alexander Pope, Prologue to the Satires: Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, / Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne.
"wearied by the greatness of his way" - Isaiah 57: 10, Thou art wearied in the greatness of thy way; yet saidst thou not, There is no hope: thou hast found the life of thine hand; therefore thou wast not grieved.
"kept his eyes from the seeing of evil" - Isaiah 33: 15, He that walketh righteously, and speaketh uprightly; he that despiseth the gain of oppressions, that shaketh his hands from holding of bribes, that stoppeth his ears from hearing of blood, and shutteth his eyes from seeing evil.
"who pass through the land hardly bested and hungry, and curse their King and their God, and look upward" - Isaiah 8:21, And they shall pass through it, hardly bestead and hungry: and it shall come to pass, that when they shall be hungry, they shall fret themselves, and curse their king and their God, and look upward.
"a power and presence" - 2 Peter 1:16, For, skilfully devised fables not having followed out, we did make known to you the power and presence of our Lord Jesus Christ.
"bear no brothers near the throne" - Alexander Pope, Prologue to the Satires: Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, / Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne.
"wearied by the greatness of his way" - Isaiah 57: 10, Thou art wearied in the greatness of thy way; yet saidst thou not, There is no hope: thou hast found the life of thine hand; therefore thou wast not grieved.
"kept his eyes from the seeing of evil" - Isaiah 33: 15, He that walketh righteously, and speaketh uprightly; he that despiseth the gain of oppressions, that shaketh his hands from holding of bribes, that stoppeth his ears from hearing of blood, and shutteth his eyes from seeing evil.
"who pass through the land hardly bested and hungry, and curse their King and their God, and look upward" - Isaiah 8:21, And they shall pass through it, hardly bestead and hungry: and it shall come to pass, that when they shall be hungry, they shall fret themselves, and curse their king and their God, and look upward.
"a power and presence" - 2 Peter 1:16, For, skilfully devised fables not having followed out, we did make known to you the power and presence of our Lord Jesus Christ.
19souloftherose
Thanks Liz for kicking off the discussion - I read to the end of Chapter III last night and have just one question about Chapter I:
"when King William came in, he delivered us from Papists and wooden shoes"
Wooden shoes?
"when King William came in, he delivered us from Papists and wooden shoes"
Wooden shoes?
20lyzard
During the reign of Charles II there was a famous incident during a meeting of Parliament when one MP placed a wooden shoe on the Speaker's chair, which had Louis's emblem on one side and Charles's on the other. The wooden shoe (sabot) was used as a symbol of the poverty of the French people under Louis, and a warning of what would befall the English people if Charles continued with his pro-French policies---and thus, was a complicated symbol of English anti-Catholic feeling.
Later, therefore, it became a common expression that William had "delivered us from wooden shoes". The most extravagant version was a toast to William, which declared that he had "delivered us from Popery, Knavery, Slavery, Bribery, Brass Money, and Wooden Shoes".
("Brass money" is, briefly, a reference to the financial crisis in Ireland which hindered James' attempt to regain his throne, after he set up his base there prior to the Battle of the Boyne.)
Later, therefore, it became a common expression that William had "delivered us from wooden shoes". The most extravagant version was a toast to William, which declared that he had "delivered us from Popery, Knavery, Slavery, Bribery, Brass Money, and Wooden Shoes".
("Brass money" is, briefly, a reference to the financial crisis in Ireland which hindered James' attempt to regain his throne, after he set up his base there prior to the Battle of the Boyne.)
21Sakerfalcon
I read up to the end of Chapter 4 last night, and am enjoying the book so far. I am looking forward to meeting the title character soon!
23lyzard
Chapter IV
Poor Everhard!
It is very troublesome to have to deal with a hero of seventeen! A girl of seventeen, fortune favouring, may be made into a very interesting heroine; people will believe all that can be said of her beauty, wit, and wisdom, and will patiently read through three or even six volumes full of her adventures, and find themselves much edified with the perusal. But a lad of seventeen! merciful heaven! to make a hero of him would require a suspension of the laws of nature! All his graces of childhood have run to seed, and the victims of manhood have not yet replaced them; he is no longer the chubby darling, of the red shoes and coral; nor yet the interesting child in a picturesque hat and tunic; but an unfinished, uneasy biped, a plague to every body within his reach, and with whose doings and sufferings, nobody, not absolutely obliged, wishes to have the least concern...
This the first of a number of authorial intrusions by Jewsbury, of a type that Anthony Trollope's readers are familiar with, where we get a fourth-wall-breaking acknowledgement that we are reading a novel. It is also the first example of something I found increasingly disconcerting as the book goes on (and I'll be interested in hearing how others feel), sudden lurches from a humorous discourse between author and reader (often with respect to the more "shocking" parts of the novel), to long passages of straightfaced melodrama.
Poor Everhard!
It is very troublesome to have to deal with a hero of seventeen! A girl of seventeen, fortune favouring, may be made into a very interesting heroine; people will believe all that can be said of her beauty, wit, and wisdom, and will patiently read through three or even six volumes full of her adventures, and find themselves much edified with the perusal. But a lad of seventeen! merciful heaven! to make a hero of him would require a suspension of the laws of nature! All his graces of childhood have run to seed, and the victims of manhood have not yet replaced them; he is no longer the chubby darling, of the red shoes and coral; nor yet the interesting child in a picturesque hat and tunic; but an unfinished, uneasy biped, a plague to every body within his reach, and with whose doings and sufferings, nobody, not absolutely obliged, wishes to have the least concern...
This the first of a number of authorial intrusions by Jewsbury, of a type that Anthony Trollope's readers are familiar with, where we get a fourth-wall-breaking acknowledgement that we are reading a novel. It is also the first example of something I found increasingly disconcerting as the book goes on (and I'll be interested in hearing how others feel), sudden lurches from a humorous discourse between author and reader (often with respect to the more "shocking" parts of the novel), to long passages of straightfaced melodrama.
24lauralkeet
"Authorial intrusions" -- yes! I recognize those from Trollope but this was written much earlier. Do you know when this technique first came into use?
As for the melodrama, I took this example as semi-humorous discourse about a teenager. I'll keep my eyes open for further sudden lurches.
As for the melodrama, I took this example as semi-humorous discourse about a teenager. I'll keep my eyes open for further sudden lurches.
25lyzard
It's hard to say with the English novel, because for so long people felt obliged to pretend they we're telling true stories, or repeating a true story told to them by somebody else, so the author-reader relationship was a bit different. It was common through the 18th century (not necessarily humorous asides, but discourse aimed at the reader), then began to go out of favour in the 19th: Trollope was frowned upon by the critics for doing it.
26rainpebble
I am caught up & have gone on ahead as I could not help myself. I am enjoying this book far too much to be able to read it with critiquing in mind, though I am finding your comments most interesting.
(what a mean auntie.)
(what a mean auntie.)
28lyzard
Since we've touched upon Trollope, this moment put me in mind of The Warden, when we catch the Archdeacon secretly reading Rabelais:
Chapter V
Everhard entered a small, luxuriously furnished apartment, and found the abbé sitting in a flowered damask silk dressing-gown over the breakfast table; he was sipping his chocolate, and reading "La Reine de Golconde", which he quietly placed under the sofa pillow when Everhard came in...
Some of you may know the opera, The Queen Of Golconda, by Franz Berwold; this is the story it is based upon, by the Chevalier Stanislas-Jean de Boufflers. It details the life of a young milk-maid who is seduced, abandoned, has lots more improper adventures, becomes a queen, and then is reunited by her first lover. In other words, it's not what we might expect to find a church dignitary reading!
There's a double joke here, however: when he wrote Aline, La Reine de Golconde, Boufflers was studying for the priesthood in Paris. His story was a huge popular success, but it got him expelled from the seminary.
The reference to this book also places the current action around 1761 (although the narrative is about to jump back some twenty years).
Chapter V
Everhard entered a small, luxuriously furnished apartment, and found the abbé sitting in a flowered damask silk dressing-gown over the breakfast table; he was sipping his chocolate, and reading "La Reine de Golconde", which he quietly placed under the sofa pillow when Everhard came in...
Some of you may know the opera, The Queen Of Golconda, by Franz Berwold; this is the story it is based upon, by the Chevalier Stanislas-Jean de Boufflers. It details the life of a young milk-maid who is seduced, abandoned, has lots more improper adventures, becomes a queen, and then is reunited by her first lover. In other words, it's not what we might expect to find a church dignitary reading!
There's a double joke here, however: when he wrote Aline, La Reine de Golconde, Boufflers was studying for the priesthood in Paris. His story was a huge popular success, but it got him expelled from the seminary.
The reference to this book also places the current action around 1761 (although the narrative is about to jump back some twenty years).
29lauralkeet
I loved that scene when he slipped the book under the cushions! I knew without even Googling (!!) that it was likely something racy.
I'm still on the 2 chapters a day pace, mostly because I'm reading other books concurrently so this is not my sole focus.
I'm still on the 2 chapters a day pace, mostly because I'm reading other books concurrently so this is not my sole focus.
30Sakerfalcon
>28 lyzard: That was a great scene!
I've now met Zoe - have just finished chapter 10. The poor girl has gone from the frying pan, to the fire, to - what? I am looking forward to reading on.
I've now met Zoe - have just finished chapter 10. The poor girl has gone from the frying pan, to the fire, to - what? I am looking forward to reading on.
31lyzard
Though it sounds outlandish, the subplot about Zoe's mother being captured by pirates is realistic enough: pirates operating out of North Africa (often called Barbary pirates or corsairs) were a serious danger all over the Middle East and the Mediterranean from the 16th century into the 18th century, until the countries in that region built their own navies and fought back. One of the pirates' most lucrative businesses was abducting people and selling them as slaves (or worse, if they were women).
32souloftherose
I'm making very slow progress for some reason (quite tired this week) so just finished Chapter VI.
>28 lyzard: Thank you for the info about La Reine de Golconde - I assumed it was probably not appropriate priestly reading from the way he slipped it under the cushions but was heading over here to ask if you knew anything more than that!
>28 lyzard: Thank you for the info about La Reine de Golconde - I assumed it was probably not appropriate priestly reading from the way he slipped it under the cushions but was heading over here to ask if you knew anything more than that!
34lyzard
From Chapter VII onwards, the narrative switches to give us Zoe's story, and immediately the novel's more contentious material begins to make itself felt in the history of Zoe's mother, and Zoe's own birth out of wedlock.
Once Zoe is reunited with her father, we get several passages in keeping with the attitude of the standard Victorian novel, inasmuch as they illustrate how how women are "damaged" by an improper upbringing, in particular absorbing false ideas about marriage. However, Jewsbury's mocking tone and the specifics of Zoe's experiences are a far cry from the usual didactic intention.
Chapter X
He had also commissioned the principal bookseller in Bordeaux to select a library proper for a young lady who had just finished a first-rate education; and the books, all bound alike in scarlet leather, were standing neatly arranged on two shelves. They comprised an odd jumble. They had been left entirely to the judgment of the bookseller, who, having understood from some book of travels, that English young ladies were allowed all the freedom of married women, made this selection with the idea of showing his acquaintance with English customs, so side by side with books of delicate rose pink morality were seen 'Les Liaisons Dangereuses' and 'La Nouvelle Héloïse'...
Jean-Jacques Rousseau's La Nouvelle Heloise was widely considered, and widely condemned (in England, anyway!), as the most corrupting book of its time; de Laclos's Les Liaisons Dangereuses, with its frankly sexual plot, was likewise anathema. In putting those two works on the shelves of a young girl, Jewsbury could hardly have been more deliberately provocative.
Once Zoe is reunited with her father, we get several passages in keeping with the attitude of the standard Victorian novel, inasmuch as they illustrate how how women are "damaged" by an improper upbringing, in particular absorbing false ideas about marriage. However, Jewsbury's mocking tone and the specifics of Zoe's experiences are a far cry from the usual didactic intention.
Chapter X
He had also commissioned the principal bookseller in Bordeaux to select a library proper for a young lady who had just finished a first-rate education; and the books, all bound alike in scarlet leather, were standing neatly arranged on two shelves. They comprised an odd jumble. They had been left entirely to the judgment of the bookseller, who, having understood from some book of travels, that English young ladies were allowed all the freedom of married women, made this selection with the idea of showing his acquaintance with English customs, so side by side with books of delicate rose pink morality were seen 'Les Liaisons Dangereuses' and 'La Nouvelle Héloïse'...
Jean-Jacques Rousseau's La Nouvelle Heloise was widely considered, and widely condemned (in England, anyway!), as the most corrupting book of its time; de Laclos's Les Liaisons Dangereuses, with its frankly sexual plot, was likewise anathema. In putting those two works on the shelves of a young girl, Jewsbury could hardly have been more deliberately provocative.
35lauralkeet
I've up to Volume II, Chapter II. In other words, I've read 2 chapters per day for 8 days. :)
I'm finding it pretty easy reading and I admit to not paying close attention to every word. The plot itself seems somewhat predictable so far -- or maybe it's better to say this book is very much "of its time." Liz, the context you're providing (e.g., >34 lyzard:) enhances the book considerably, so thank you very much for those insights!
I'm finding it pretty easy reading and I admit to not paying close attention to every word. The plot itself seems somewhat predictable so far -- or maybe it's better to say this book is very much "of its time." Liz, the context you're providing (e.g., >34 lyzard:) enhances the book considerably, so thank you very much for those insights!
36lyzard
Marry in haste, etc., etc....
Chapter XI
Surely we must express ourselves ill when we record our wishes, or our guardian angels must be very stupid, for they never seem able to understand what it is we want; when they do their best to fulfil our desires to the very letter, we always find some mistake which renders them any thing but what we expected...
Facetiousness about such a self-evidently unwise marriage wouldn't have caused any ripples; but almost immediately Jewsbury shifts ground and starts being facetious about Satan...although the fact that she's describing two Catholics may have gotten this a pass-mark, too:
In vain Gifford tried to point out the advantages that Clotilde would enjoy in being with Zoe. The old lady declared it was a snare of the evil one to wean her heart from religion, and that unhallowed learning would ruin her soul.
There seems to be a sort of magic or free masonry in the name of the devil, by which all who believe in his power try to frighten each other. Gifford did not feel altogether pleased to hear his bride classed among the agents of Satan, still the contradiction to it stuck in his throat...
Chapter XI
Surely we must express ourselves ill when we record our wishes, or our guardian angels must be very stupid, for they never seem able to understand what it is we want; when they do their best to fulfil our desires to the very letter, we always find some mistake which renders them any thing but what we expected...
Facetiousness about such a self-evidently unwise marriage wouldn't have caused any ripples; but almost immediately Jewsbury shifts ground and starts being facetious about Satan...although the fact that she's describing two Catholics may have gotten this a pass-mark, too:
In vain Gifford tried to point out the advantages that Clotilde would enjoy in being with Zoe. The old lady declared it was a snare of the evil one to wean her heart from religion, and that unhallowed learning would ruin her soul.
There seems to be a sort of magic or free masonry in the name of the devil, by which all who believe in his power try to frighten each other. Gifford did not feel altogether pleased to hear his bride classed among the agents of Satan, still the contradiction to it stuck in his throat...
37lauralkeet
This chronological project has taught me that I don't really enjoy didactic literature, and I'm finding Zoe has its fair share. But just when I was growing weary of it, along came Volume II, Chapter V
Ooh la la!
Ooh la la!
38lyzard
:D
Give it a few more chapters---you'll reach something I'm pretty sure was the reason this novel was written!
Give it a few more chapters---you'll reach something I'm pretty sure was the reason this novel was written!
39lyzard
But...
I wouldn't call this "didactic"; in thumbing its nose at the usual ideas about women and religion and marriage, it's anti-didactic if anything.
However, it certainly has a tendency to lecture and philosophise, which can be just as hard to swallow, even if the "lessons" conveyed aren't the usual ones.
I wouldn't call this "didactic"; in thumbing its nose at the usual ideas about women and religion and marriage, it's anti-didactic if anything.
However, it certainly has a tendency to lecture and philosophise, which can be just as hard to swallow, even if the "lessons" conveyed aren't the usual ones.
40lyzard
There's something pretty daring in Chapter XI:
Zoe was half bewildered at the fierce reality of pain. "What, is all this horror of horrors a law of Nature that cannot be altered!" she exclaimed, between gasps of prayers for mercy, which she felt was mockery. It was not till after her child was born, and she lay feeble and helpless, that she had leisure to meditate on the strange capability of enduring for hours, suffering which once she would have imagined must quickly end in death. Zoe wept in utter weakness, not for herself, but at the thought of all the suffering and agony so many millions of women had borne before her...
It was very rare indeed for a Victorian novel to acknowledge the realities of childbirth*, even as they insisted upon motherhood as the ultimate fulfillment for a woman, and that all "good women" want children. Almost invariably a baby will simply appear, without any reference to how it got there. This, I imagine, was one of the moments that contemporary readers found "indecent".
Even more confronting is what follows: this is not how a young woman is supposed to react to her "trial":
She turned for comfort to the religion she had been taught, but it seemed cold and forced, and to have no tangible meaning. The prayers and praises that were prescribed by all forms of religion, seemed to her only the aspirations of crushed slaves under the hand that lay heavy upon them. Wherever she turned for refuge, she beheld only dimness of anguish; and driven into darkness, she exclaimed in the frenzy of her soul, "Where is the All-powerful, the All-merciful, in whom we are taught to believe?"
When she recollected that even according to the Christian faith, all the complicated miseries of this life, to the greater number, are but the "beginning of sorrows", to be carried to a horrible perfection through all eternity after death - the calm, apathetic belief of Miss Rodney, and the placid acquiescence in this tremendous doctrine by the gentle, unruffled Clotilde, roused her hatred and disbelief in all religion, almost to insanity...
(*I mentioned Mary Ward's Robert Elsmere as the most famous Victorian novel about religious doubt; curiously, it's also the next novel I can think of to have a female character dealing with the mental and physical shock of childbirth. That was some forty years after the writing of Zoe, which gives us a measure of how very transgressive Jewsbury would have seemed.)
Zoe was half bewildered at the fierce reality of pain. "What, is all this horror of horrors a law of Nature that cannot be altered!" she exclaimed, between gasps of prayers for mercy, which she felt was mockery. It was not till after her child was born, and she lay feeble and helpless, that she had leisure to meditate on the strange capability of enduring for hours, suffering which once she would have imagined must quickly end in death. Zoe wept in utter weakness, not for herself, but at the thought of all the suffering and agony so many millions of women had borne before her...
It was very rare indeed for a Victorian novel to acknowledge the realities of childbirth*, even as they insisted upon motherhood as the ultimate fulfillment for a woman, and that all "good women" want children. Almost invariably a baby will simply appear, without any reference to how it got there. This, I imagine, was one of the moments that contemporary readers found "indecent".
Even more confronting is what follows: this is not how a young woman is supposed to react to her "trial":
She turned for comfort to the religion she had been taught, but it seemed cold and forced, and to have no tangible meaning. The prayers and praises that were prescribed by all forms of religion, seemed to her only the aspirations of crushed slaves under the hand that lay heavy upon them. Wherever she turned for refuge, she beheld only dimness of anguish; and driven into darkness, she exclaimed in the frenzy of her soul, "Where is the All-powerful, the All-merciful, in whom we are taught to believe?"
When she recollected that even according to the Christian faith, all the complicated miseries of this life, to the greater number, are but the "beginning of sorrows", to be carried to a horrible perfection through all eternity after death - the calm, apathetic belief of Miss Rodney, and the placid acquiescence in this tremendous doctrine by the gentle, unruffled Clotilde, roused her hatred and disbelief in all religion, almost to insanity...
(*I mentioned Mary Ward's Robert Elsmere as the most famous Victorian novel about religious doubt; curiously, it's also the next novel I can think of to have a female character dealing with the mental and physical shock of childbirth. That was some forty years after the writing of Zoe, which gives us a measure of how very transgressive Jewsbury would have seemed.)
41lauralkeet
>39 lyzard: tendency to lecture and philosophise
Yes, that's what I'm reacting to. I immediately start skimming ...
>40 lyzard: I agree, that childbirth passage was really interesting -- so different from other literature of the period.
Yes, that's what I'm reacting to. I immediately start skimming ...
>40 lyzard: I agree, that childbirth passage was really interesting -- so different from other literature of the period.
42SassyLassy
Well I certainly have a lot of catching up to do, as I am only starting today. I just finished Elizabeth von Arnim's Mr Skeffington last evening for April. I feel I can be excused however all things considered! On April 30th we sold our house. On May 2nd I flew 2000km to another part of the country and found a new house which we have bought. I then flew home on the 4th and have been working ever since on moving details, inspection details and all those other things so necessary to it all. Tonight I will start Zoe! Looking forward to joining in and returning to the relative calm of the nineteenth century.
44lyzard
Having settled Zoe for a time, in Chapter XII the narrative catches up with Everhard who has gone through with his training for the priesthood after all.
Various things may be taken away from the letters transcribed but the most daring passage is this:
"How deeply do I regret that the order of Jesuits is abolished; it would have been the height of my ambition to be one of the body. They alone seem to have had the full comprehension of how to grapple with men; they had a knowledge of all the mysteries of the human heart, and learned how to turn it about whithersoever they listed..."
In the context of British anti-Catholicism, that was probably as shocking to contemporary readers as anything else in this novel: that an otherwise decent young want should want to be a Jesuit---!?
The Order of the Society of Jesus was the leading organisation for Catholic evangelisation and missionary work, and were a major force in spreading Catholicism to "the New World". To non-Catholics they were dangerous and dishonest, going to any lengths to convert (or "pervert", to use the contemporary term) people. The Jesuit became the stock villain of all anti-Catholic literature, and while most of what was written was false and absurd (and often hilarious), it serves as a fascinating insight into how Catholics were perceived.
Historically, the "abolition" of the order that Everhard refers to was the result of the suppression of the Jesuits in almost all Catholic countries but Italy during the id-17th century. Reasons for this continue to be debated but it seems that the various monarchies (ironically enough, since this was the root of much British anti-Catholicism) viewed the Jesuits as a powerful rival to their thrones, encouraging loyalty to the Pope rather than the King. In 1773, Pope Clement XIV issued a papal bull abolishing the Jesuits, chiefly on the grounds that the Order could no longer carry out its work successfully. This was enforced until 1814, when Pope Pius VII restored the Order: the restoration was followed by a great expansion and resurgence, with the founding of numerous colleges and universities, particularly in the United States. This reappearance on the public stage of the Jesuits was the basis of the upsurge in British anti-Catholicism.
We may note that the current pope, Francis I, is the first Jesuit pope.
Various things may be taken away from the letters transcribed but the most daring passage is this:
"How deeply do I regret that the order of Jesuits is abolished; it would have been the height of my ambition to be one of the body. They alone seem to have had the full comprehension of how to grapple with men; they had a knowledge of all the mysteries of the human heart, and learned how to turn it about whithersoever they listed..."
In the context of British anti-Catholicism, that was probably as shocking to contemporary readers as anything else in this novel: that an otherwise decent young want should want to be a Jesuit---!?
The Order of the Society of Jesus was the leading organisation for Catholic evangelisation and missionary work, and were a major force in spreading Catholicism to "the New World". To non-Catholics they were dangerous and dishonest, going to any lengths to convert (or "pervert", to use the contemporary term) people. The Jesuit became the stock villain of all anti-Catholic literature, and while most of what was written was false and absurd (and often hilarious), it serves as a fascinating insight into how Catholics were perceived.
Historically, the "abolition" of the order that Everhard refers to was the result of the suppression of the Jesuits in almost all Catholic countries but Italy during the id-17th century. Reasons for this continue to be debated but it seems that the various monarchies (ironically enough, since this was the root of much British anti-Catholicism) viewed the Jesuits as a powerful rival to their thrones, encouraging loyalty to the Pope rather than the King. In 1773, Pope Clement XIV issued a papal bull abolishing the Jesuits, chiefly on the grounds that the Order could no longer carry out its work successfully. This was enforced until 1814, when Pope Pius VII restored the Order: the restoration was followed by a great expansion and resurgence, with the founding of numerous colleges and universities, particularly in the United States. This reappearance on the public stage of the Jesuits was the basis of the upsurge in British anti-Catholicism.
We may note that the current pope, Francis I, is the first Jesuit pope.
45lyzard
The other thing of note in Chapter XII is the presentation of Louis' marriage and the description of Marian. In any other novel of this time she would probably be the good-girl heroine; but not here:
"Every body says Mrs Gifford is very clever, but to my thinking, she is neither so handsome, nor so in every way what a woman should be as Marian is. She has large flashing black eyes, which have a kind of bold, saucy look, very different from Marian's, which are light blue, very modest, and downcast, with soft brown hair. She is so gentle and amiable, I am sure you will like her, - nobody can help it, she is so good. She is rather romantic, and very fond of me, which, strange to say, I rather wonder at sometimes. I have had to write her a great many letters, for she likes those sort of things..."
"Every body says Mrs Gifford is very clever, but to my thinking, she is neither so handsome, nor so in every way what a woman should be as Marian is. She has large flashing black eyes, which have a kind of bold, saucy look, very different from Marian's, which are light blue, very modest, and downcast, with soft brown hair. She is so gentle and amiable, I am sure you will like her, - nobody can help it, she is so good. She is rather romantic, and very fond of me, which, strange to say, I rather wonder at sometimes. I have had to write her a great many letters, for she likes those sort of things..."
46lyzard
More scandalous literature!
More wifely disobedience, too...
Chapter XIII
But the current of Zoe's taste having for the moment set in for secret memoirs and scandalous gossip, his remonstrances were of no avail. One day he solemnly committed to the flames a choice French copy of De Grammont's Memoirs, which Zoe had that morning discovered in an old book shop, and which unfortunately fell in his way as he was waiting for her to come down to dinner. The flames were curling round it when Zoe entered hastily, exclaiming, "Dear me, Mr Gifford, what a terrible smell of burning there is here! Has any thing caught fire?"
"Nothing, madam," replied Gifford severely, "but what ought to have been burned long since by the common hangman; how often am I to declare that I will not have such books in my house?"
...
Zoe did not once allude to what had passed, nor showed any discomposure; and by her self-control prevented a quarrel, in which even a good woman might have thought herself justified. However, we are bound to confess that she bought another copy of the same work the very first opportunity, and of which she took better care...
The Comte de Gramont was a noble but thoroughly disreputable 17th century figure, who late in his life supposedly dictated his memoirs to his brother-in-law, Anthony Hamilton; although many people believe Hamilton really shaped de Gramont's recollections into a coherent narrative. The book is perfectly frank about de Gramont's own misconduct, but it is even franker about life at the court of Charles II; Restoration scholars consider it one of the most accurate and important depictions of the period in question.
(Though historically the Comte's name is spelled "de Gramont", it is rendered as "de Grammont" in the book in question.)
More wifely disobedience, too...
Chapter XIII
But the current of Zoe's taste having for the moment set in for secret memoirs and scandalous gossip, his remonstrances were of no avail. One day he solemnly committed to the flames a choice French copy of De Grammont's Memoirs, which Zoe had that morning discovered in an old book shop, and which unfortunately fell in his way as he was waiting for her to come down to dinner. The flames were curling round it when Zoe entered hastily, exclaiming, "Dear me, Mr Gifford, what a terrible smell of burning there is here! Has any thing caught fire?"
"Nothing, madam," replied Gifford severely, "but what ought to have been burned long since by the common hangman; how often am I to declare that I will not have such books in my house?"
...
Zoe did not once allude to what had passed, nor showed any discomposure; and by her self-control prevented a quarrel, in which even a good woman might have thought herself justified. However, we are bound to confess that she bought another copy of the same work the very first opportunity, and of which she took better care...
The Comte de Gramont was a noble but thoroughly disreputable 17th century figure, who late in his life supposedly dictated his memoirs to his brother-in-law, Anthony Hamilton; although many people believe Hamilton really shaped de Gramont's recollections into a coherent narrative. The book is perfectly frank about de Gramont's own misconduct, but it is even franker about life at the court of Charles II; Restoration scholars consider it one of the most accurate and important depictions of the period in question.
(Though historically the Comte's name is spelled "de Gramont", it is rendered as "de Grammont" in the book in question.)
47souloftherose
Checking in again to say I finished Volume I and hope to make some progress into Volume II this weekend. Thank you Liz for all the comments on the chapters so far.
>40 lyzard: I'd thought the description of childbirth was unusual but hadn't realised quite how transgressive it was.
>42 SassyLassy: Wow - hope you settle in to your new home soon!
>44 lyzard: Thank you for the background there - I'd heard of the Jesuit order but hadn't known they had been suppressed during this period.
>45 lyzard: Yeah, I was cheering her on when she got another copy of that book...... :-)
I found Chapter XV a bit of a slog and didn't really understand the different philosophies described. Any light you can shed on this?
>40 lyzard: I'd thought the description of childbirth was unusual but hadn't realised quite how transgressive it was.
>42 SassyLassy: Wow - hope you settle in to your new home soon!
>44 lyzard: Thank you for the background there - I'd heard of the Jesuit order but hadn't known they had been suppressed during this period.
>45 lyzard: Yeah, I was cheering her on when she got another copy of that book...... :-)
I found Chapter XV a bit of a slog and didn't really understand the different philosophies described. Any light you can shed on this?
48Sakerfalcon
I too was struck by the description of the pain of childbirth, and its effect on Zoe's faith/view of religion. I can see this shocking readers at the time.
I'm about half way through Book 2 (I think) having just read the chapters with Clothild, Marian and O'Brien. I have to admit I found these chapters a lot more compelling than the previous ones with their philosophical discussions.
I'm about half way through Book 2 (I think) having just read the chapters with Clothild, Marian and O'Brien. I have to admit I found these chapters a lot more compelling than the previous ones with their philosophical discussions.
49lauralkeet
>42 SassyLassy: Moving house can be so stressful. I'm glad you're finding time to read!
>46 lyzard: I loved that scene with Zoe and the book!
>48 Sakerfalcon: Looks like we are at about the same place in the book, Claire. I agree these chapters are more enjoyable with fewer preachy/philosophizing segments.
>46 lyzard: I loved that scene with Zoe and the book!
>48 Sakerfalcon: Looks like we are at about the same place in the book, Claire. I agree these chapters are more enjoyable with fewer preachy/philosophizing segments.
50lyzard
>47 souloftherose:
Chapter XV is largely concerned with the so-called "Age Of Reason", wherein there was shift towards an analytical, pragmatic approach to life in conjunction with a widespread rejection of traditional beliefs and ways of thinking, including on religious matters.
In France, this movement was largely a philosophical movement, led by thinkers like Voltaire, which examined and dissected the existing social system, and challenged the "natural" (i.e God-given) authority of the church and the monarchy.
In England, the focus was more upon a new way of thinking: a rational, analytic approach became favoured. A new passion for knowledge for its own sake emerged, and there was an upswing of interest in science and other processes requiring physical proof and capable of demonstration.
One of the side-effects of this was a dissipation of religious faith during the 18th century, wherein the church became viewed as simply one more human institution for keeping people ignorant and dependent. There was increased materialism and cynicism across society as a whole; although alternative approaches to religion also emerged, such as the Deist movement, which basically left the church out of things and worshipped God directly.
In the long term there was a reaction to all this, with what we now call the "Romantic Movement". Emotions became valued again, analytical writing gave way to poetry and sentimental novels, and new, liberal ideas about equality and "benevolence" (to use the favourite word of the day) began to emerge. A lot of this was overdone and ridiculous, but there were impulses underlying it that slowly took root, and which today we take for granted in the way that society functions. This is what Jewsbury means when she says:
Every candid mind felt that the theories set up by philosophers in lieu of Christianity, were false, wild, and impossible as a child's nursery-tale---yet every thinking mind felt also that there lay a deep truth amid all this error, though they might lack strength to distinguish it, and there was a feeling of sympathy with their speculations even in the hearts of those who might not agree to any one of their propositions.
However, in France this social process eventually led to the Revolution---which frightened the hell out of England and saw a retreat into the harsh old social systems and the death at birth of many of these "radical" ideas, which did not re-emerge for many decades.
It terms of the novel itself, Jewsbury places Everhard's experiences within these terms: he starts out as a champion of the church, fighting back against the heresies of the time; but the more he studies the church's enemies in order to refute their assertions, the more he is influenced by their arguments, and particularly by their attacks upon "the truth" as asserted by the Catholic church. As was the case for many people at the time, the result is a loss of his faith.
He was heavy and dissatisfied, and disturbed at heart; he was conscious that those philosophers whom he had assailed with such energy, whose mistakes and false reasonings he had exposed with such pitiless sarcasm, had made at least one thing clear and palpable to him, had fixed in his heart a conviction from which he in vain endeavoured to avert his thoughts; he saw and felt that Christianity, and what we are pleased to call "revealed religion", as far as the external evidences go, rests on no better foundation than those of any other form of religious belief which ruled the world before it was promulgated, and has faded away from men's sympathies. He saw that, struggle to conceal the fact as priests and devotees might, the awe with which religious doctrines had hitherto been handled by the generality, was destroyed; the mystery in which they had been reverendly shrouded, was henceforth irretrievably rent away. He felt bitterly convinced that the Catholic Church - his idol the Church - was not a Truth, but only a form by which truth had once been made manifest, and finally almost obscured by ceremonies which had ceased to be transparent, - that it was ceasing to be the expression of men's adoration, - that it was no longer the form spontaneously assumed by their devotion. He felt wretched and confused; it seemed as if with the vanishing of the decaying temple, the God whose presence had once been felt therein, was passing away also.
Jewsbury's assertion here (made via a priest!) that "Christianity... rests on no better foundation than...any other form of religious belief" would have been very shocking to most of her readers.
Chapter XV is largely concerned with the so-called "Age Of Reason", wherein there was shift towards an analytical, pragmatic approach to life in conjunction with a widespread rejection of traditional beliefs and ways of thinking, including on religious matters.
In France, this movement was largely a philosophical movement, led by thinkers like Voltaire, which examined and dissected the existing social system, and challenged the "natural" (i.e God-given) authority of the church and the monarchy.
In England, the focus was more upon a new way of thinking: a rational, analytic approach became favoured. A new passion for knowledge for its own sake emerged, and there was an upswing of interest in science and other processes requiring physical proof and capable of demonstration.
One of the side-effects of this was a dissipation of religious faith during the 18th century, wherein the church became viewed as simply one more human institution for keeping people ignorant and dependent. There was increased materialism and cynicism across society as a whole; although alternative approaches to religion also emerged, such as the Deist movement, which basically left the church out of things and worshipped God directly.
In the long term there was a reaction to all this, with what we now call the "Romantic Movement". Emotions became valued again, analytical writing gave way to poetry and sentimental novels, and new, liberal ideas about equality and "benevolence" (to use the favourite word of the day) began to emerge. A lot of this was overdone and ridiculous, but there were impulses underlying it that slowly took root, and which today we take for granted in the way that society functions. This is what Jewsbury means when she says:
Every candid mind felt that the theories set up by philosophers in lieu of Christianity, were false, wild, and impossible as a child's nursery-tale---yet every thinking mind felt also that there lay a deep truth amid all this error, though they might lack strength to distinguish it, and there was a feeling of sympathy with their speculations even in the hearts of those who might not agree to any one of their propositions.
However, in France this social process eventually led to the Revolution---which frightened the hell out of England and saw a retreat into the harsh old social systems and the death at birth of many of these "radical" ideas, which did not re-emerge for many decades.
It terms of the novel itself, Jewsbury places Everhard's experiences within these terms: he starts out as a champion of the church, fighting back against the heresies of the time; but the more he studies the church's enemies in order to refute their assertions, the more he is influenced by their arguments, and particularly by their attacks upon "the truth" as asserted by the Catholic church. As was the case for many people at the time, the result is a loss of his faith.
He was heavy and dissatisfied, and disturbed at heart; he was conscious that those philosophers whom he had assailed with such energy, whose mistakes and false reasonings he had exposed with such pitiless sarcasm, had made at least one thing clear and palpable to him, had fixed in his heart a conviction from which he in vain endeavoured to avert his thoughts; he saw and felt that Christianity, and what we are pleased to call "revealed religion", as far as the external evidences go, rests on no better foundation than those of any other form of religious belief which ruled the world before it was promulgated, and has faded away from men's sympathies. He saw that, struggle to conceal the fact as priests and devotees might, the awe with which religious doctrines had hitherto been handled by the generality, was destroyed; the mystery in which they had been reverendly shrouded, was henceforth irretrievably rent away. He felt bitterly convinced that the Catholic Church - his idol the Church - was not a Truth, but only a form by which truth had once been made manifest, and finally almost obscured by ceremonies which had ceased to be transparent, - that it was ceasing to be the expression of men's adoration, - that it was no longer the form spontaneously assumed by their devotion. He felt wretched and confused; it seemed as if with the vanishing of the decaying temple, the God whose presence had once been felt therein, was passing away also.
Jewsbury's assertion here (made via a priest!) that "Christianity... rests on no better foundation than...any other form of religious belief" would have been very shocking to most of her readers.
51lyzard
In terms of the overall novel, Zoe suffers from something we also saw with Susan Ferrier's Marriage (for those of you who were along for that group read), an inability to meld two approaches to narrative.
In Ferrier's case this was a fairly simple conflict, wherein her natural tendency to humour and satire was interrupted again and again by passages of didactic writing in a fairly clear instance of a battle between how she wanted to write and how she felt she "should" be writing. The result is a series of tonal shifts and a very unevenly written novel. We see this a lot in 19th century women's writing, the inability to reconcile external demands for a certain kind of writing with the author's natural style.
Jewsbury's case is a far more complex example of the same sort of thing, because she isn't failing to reconcile external pressures and internal impulses, she's failing to reconcile two internal impulses. On one hand we have her tendency to satirise society's view of women and to argue for the greater freedom and individuality of the female sex; on the other she is examining the nature of faith and the place of religion in society. The unconnected nature of her theses gives us another novel with abrupt tonal shifts.
What's interesting here, though, is (as mentioned at the outset) the reading of the novel which posits Zoe and Everhard as the two sides of Jewsbury's own character, a reading which would suggest that the very unevenness of the novel is a reflection of Jewsbury's own internal conflicts.
In Ferrier's case this was a fairly simple conflict, wherein her natural tendency to humour and satire was interrupted again and again by passages of didactic writing in a fairly clear instance of a battle between how she wanted to write and how she felt she "should" be writing. The result is a series of tonal shifts and a very unevenly written novel. We see this a lot in 19th century women's writing, the inability to reconcile external demands for a certain kind of writing with the author's natural style.
Jewsbury's case is a far more complex example of the same sort of thing, because she isn't failing to reconcile external pressures and internal impulses, she's failing to reconcile two internal impulses. On one hand we have her tendency to satirise society's view of women and to argue for the greater freedom and individuality of the female sex; on the other she is examining the nature of faith and the place of religion in society. The unconnected nature of her theses gives us another novel with abrupt tonal shifts.
What's interesting here, though, is (as mentioned at the outset) the reading of the novel which posits Zoe and Everhard as the two sides of Jewsbury's own character, a reading which would suggest that the very unevenness of the novel is a reflection of Jewsbury's own internal conflicts.
53lyzard
Volume II begins with the aftermath of Everhard's crisis of faith, one exacerbated by the fact that he can't get anyone in the church to take him seriously!
We get some indication here of the way in which the Catholic church was regarded as much as a political organisation, manoeuvring in its own right for power, as a religious organisation; and one capable of the most specious reasoning in pursuit of its own ends. (The Jesuits were considered world champions of the latter!) While Mr Gifford intends nothing more than to found a college for the education of Catholics, we see the church powers (including the Pope) seizing the opportunity to lay the foundations of an English seminary, which was illegal under contemporary English law.
Being English, and widely respected, Everhard is considered the ideal man to head the college---with the failure of his faith a minor detail!
"I don't know," replied the Pope, doubtfully; "they tell me that all these controversies have shaken his faith. It is not wise to send uncertain men to fill places of trust, and if this Everhard takes it into his head to turn round upon us, we shall have our hands full, for no one could make head against him; and, besides, his defection would make less éclat where he is now, than if we elevated him to a conspicuous station; where it would not say much for our gift of discerning of spirits."
"There is a flaw in Everhard's faith, as regards religion, certainly," replied the cardinal, returning to the charge; "but not as regards the Church. He is not prepared to leave that; at least not at this present time, and it would be highly unwise to suffer him to depart from it; secure his allegiance by giving him a place of trust; his liberalism in matters of religion will recommend him to the people he is to go amongst; it would not do to send a bigot, as matters stand at present. This Everhard is an Englishman, to begin with; he will be able to conciliate and disarm suspicion and distrust, and establish the Catholic faith on a footing that can be made the most of hereafter. His works are in great repute in England, even amongst the most ultra Protestants; they look upon him less as a Catholic priest than as the champion of Christianity."
"Well," replied the Pope, "if we could but feel sure that he would keep his doubts to himself; but he has a strange mania for being sincere, which with him, as with every body else who takes it up, means saying the most inconvenient truths, at the most inconvenient times, to other people; and he has a disregard for consequences that is quite appalling. Truth is not a virtue intended to grow wild in the highways of the world; it ought not to be administered without due authority; otherwise it may act as a deadly poison; you know what Solomon said, 'I, Wisdom, dwell with Prudence.'"
We get some indication here of the way in which the Catholic church was regarded as much as a political organisation, manoeuvring in its own right for power, as a religious organisation; and one capable of the most specious reasoning in pursuit of its own ends. (The Jesuits were considered world champions of the latter!) While Mr Gifford intends nothing more than to found a college for the education of Catholics, we see the church powers (including the Pope) seizing the opportunity to lay the foundations of an English seminary, which was illegal under contemporary English law.
Being English, and widely respected, Everhard is considered the ideal man to head the college---with the failure of his faith a minor detail!
"I don't know," replied the Pope, doubtfully; "they tell me that all these controversies have shaken his faith. It is not wise to send uncertain men to fill places of trust, and if this Everhard takes it into his head to turn round upon us, we shall have our hands full, for no one could make head against him; and, besides, his defection would make less éclat where he is now, than if we elevated him to a conspicuous station; where it would not say much for our gift of discerning of spirits."
"There is a flaw in Everhard's faith, as regards religion, certainly," replied the cardinal, returning to the charge; "but not as regards the Church. He is not prepared to leave that; at least not at this present time, and it would be highly unwise to suffer him to depart from it; secure his allegiance by giving him a place of trust; his liberalism in matters of religion will recommend him to the people he is to go amongst; it would not do to send a bigot, as matters stand at present. This Everhard is an Englishman, to begin with; he will be able to conciliate and disarm suspicion and distrust, and establish the Catholic faith on a footing that can be made the most of hereafter. His works are in great repute in England, even amongst the most ultra Protestants; they look upon him less as a Catholic priest than as the champion of Christianity."
"Well," replied the Pope, "if we could but feel sure that he would keep his doubts to himself; but he has a strange mania for being sincere, which with him, as with every body else who takes it up, means saying the most inconvenient truths, at the most inconvenient times, to other people; and he has a disregard for consequences that is quite appalling. Truth is not a virtue intended to grow wild in the highways of the world; it ought not to be administered without due authority; otherwise it may act as a deadly poison; you know what Solomon said, 'I, Wisdom, dwell with Prudence.'"
54lauralkeet
I'm plugging along, Liz, still on a 2 chapters/day pace. I'm closing in on the end of Vol II.
55souloftherose
>52 lyzard: I took a break from reading this for about a week but I'm back and up to Chapter XI of Volume II - think I'm enjoying Volume II more than Volume I so far.
56lauralkeet
I finished last night. For me the book was just okay, I never really felt connected to the story and characters and the philosophizing continued to drive me crazy. Sorry ...
I always appreciate books like this more when they are part of a tutored/group read so I will be lurking here to learn more.
I always appreciate books like this more when they are part of a tutored/group read so I will be lurking here to learn more.
57rainpebble
I completed my read a few days ago as well. I have to say that while I really enjoyed the first third of 'Zoe', disappointingly, the remainder came difficult to me.
Thank you Liz, for tutoring us through this read. It certainly helped me as I do not know if I would have completed the book had it not been for the comments on this thread. So I thank you and also all of you who shared your thoughts on this book.
Until the next.............
Thank you Liz, for tutoring us through this read. It certainly helped me as I do not know if I would have completed the book had it not been for the comments on this thread. So I thank you and also all of you who shared your thoughts on this book.
Until the next.............
58Sakerfalcon
I've just started Volume 3.
59CDVicarage
I'm on to Vol 3 and I'm skimming through now...
60souloftherose
I finished Volume II yesterday - think I'm still on track to finish before the end of the month....
61CDVicarage
I have finished now but I did skip a lot of the philosophising and moralising.
63lyzard
It is generally agreed that Volume II, which brings Zoe and Everhard together, is the most interesting of the three---perhaps because there is more character interaction and less philosophising, most likely because this is where most of the novel's scandalous material is located! :)
In Volume II, Chapter V---ooh, la, la! as Laura put it---we have an open declaration by Zoe of her designs on Everhard:
"I have already told you that Father Everhard is a priest, and consequently bound down by a creed, as far as words and outward expressions go: he seldom says in words that he thinks with me, but how I am learning to read his thoughts. Now, Clara, do not imagine that I for the first time in my life am going to fall in love, after keeping free from it all these years, and passing for a cold English woman,---love is a word quite out of my vocabulary; but I do confess that I would rather have the friendship of this man, than the love and rhapsody of the whole sex besides. It is a strange providence that has thrown him in my way, and I hope to put him in my power. What I wish is, to make him taste a happiness he has never yet known nor dreamed of. I shall be his keeper..."
Note, however, that at the time, the simple assertion by Zoe that "for the first time in my life am going to fall in love" would at the time have also been considered shocking, coming from a married woman: women were at least supposed to pretend they loved their husbands! (One of the most pernicious falsehoods of this era was the assertion, while a girl was being forced into marriage, that she would "learn to love" her husband; and if she didn't, of course it was her fault.)
But all of Zoe's---well, we can't really call them good intentions---her intentions come to nothing in the face of constant interaction with Everhard. Jewsbury dwells upon the realisation of both in Volume II, Chapter XI:
She sat with her eyes fixed on the fire, in a reverie; she was dreaming too; all her coquetry was subdued; the feeling and impulses which all her life had either been crushed down or unheeded, now made themselves intelligible. The memory of all her schemes for getting Everhard into her power, now seemed like sacrilege, and she despised herself; she fancied that he must see to the bottom of her vain, frivolous soul, and despise her too; she looked up for an instant as if to ask pardon. Their eyes met---and he saw those glorious eyes upon him, soft with tears, and the whole countenance full of timid love and gentleness. Joy, almost like fright, flashed across Everhard; he could not turn away, but remained gazing upon her; words were needless, and prudence was vain; the secret of their souls had transpired in that one look.
The fire that breaks out brings matters to crisis point:
The surprise, the alarm, the possible danger, were forgotten, he only felt the warm, palpitating burden which lay upon his bosom; he was too much overpowered by his sensations to move---they stupefied him---the intense enjoyment amounted to pain. He, who in his whole life had never touched a woman, now had a whole life of passion melted into that moment.
He crushed her into his arms with ferocious love. He pressed burning kisses upon her face, her lips, and her bosom; but kisses were too weak to express the passion that was within him. It was madness like hatred,---beads of sweat stood thick on his forehead, and his breath came in gasps...
...with the situation finally coming to a crisis:
At length he reached a part of the building to which neither the smoke nor the alarm had spread: it was the chapel. A light burned before the altar,---he bore her to the steps, and sprinkled her face and hands with water from a vessel that stood near. Zoe opened her eyes, and saw Everhard bending over her. The colour rushed over her face and neck. Everhard made an effort to turn away, but, almost unconsciously, he fell on his knees beside her; and the next moment Zoe's burning arms were round his neck, and her long hair fell like a veil over him. Everhard's brain was in a whirl, and his veins ran fire, as he felt her warm breath upon him...
So:
Passionate kissing between a married woman and a Catholic priest---in a chapel.
In a novel published in 1845.
Yeah. :D
In Volume II, Chapter V---ooh, la, la! as Laura put it---we have an open declaration by Zoe of her designs on Everhard:
"I have already told you that Father Everhard is a priest, and consequently bound down by a creed, as far as words and outward expressions go: he seldom says in words that he thinks with me, but how I am learning to read his thoughts. Now, Clara, do not imagine that I for the first time in my life am going to fall in love, after keeping free from it all these years, and passing for a cold English woman,---love is a word quite out of my vocabulary; but I do confess that I would rather have the friendship of this man, than the love and rhapsody of the whole sex besides. It is a strange providence that has thrown him in my way, and I hope to put him in my power. What I wish is, to make him taste a happiness he has never yet known nor dreamed of. I shall be his keeper..."
Note, however, that at the time, the simple assertion by Zoe that "for the first time in my life am going to fall in love" would at the time have also been considered shocking, coming from a married woman: women were at least supposed to pretend they loved their husbands! (One of the most pernicious falsehoods of this era was the assertion, while a girl was being forced into marriage, that she would "learn to love" her husband; and if she didn't, of course it was her fault.)
But all of Zoe's---well, we can't really call them good intentions---her intentions come to nothing in the face of constant interaction with Everhard. Jewsbury dwells upon the realisation of both in Volume II, Chapter XI:
She sat with her eyes fixed on the fire, in a reverie; she was dreaming too; all her coquetry was subdued; the feeling and impulses which all her life had either been crushed down or unheeded, now made themselves intelligible. The memory of all her schemes for getting Everhard into her power, now seemed like sacrilege, and she despised herself; she fancied that he must see to the bottom of her vain, frivolous soul, and despise her too; she looked up for an instant as if to ask pardon. Their eyes met---and he saw those glorious eyes upon him, soft with tears, and the whole countenance full of timid love and gentleness. Joy, almost like fright, flashed across Everhard; he could not turn away, but remained gazing upon her; words were needless, and prudence was vain; the secret of their souls had transpired in that one look.
The fire that breaks out brings matters to crisis point:
The surprise, the alarm, the possible danger, were forgotten, he only felt the warm, palpitating burden which lay upon his bosom; he was too much overpowered by his sensations to move---they stupefied him---the intense enjoyment amounted to pain. He, who in his whole life had never touched a woman, now had a whole life of passion melted into that moment.
He crushed her into his arms with ferocious love. He pressed burning kisses upon her face, her lips, and her bosom; but kisses were too weak to express the passion that was within him. It was madness like hatred,---beads of sweat stood thick on his forehead, and his breath came in gasps...
...with the situation finally coming to a crisis:
At length he reached a part of the building to which neither the smoke nor the alarm had spread: it was the chapel. A light burned before the altar,---he bore her to the steps, and sprinkled her face and hands with water from a vessel that stood near. Zoe opened her eyes, and saw Everhard bending over her. The colour rushed over her face and neck. Everhard made an effort to turn away, but, almost unconsciously, he fell on his knees beside her; and the next moment Zoe's burning arms were round his neck, and her long hair fell like a veil over him. Everhard's brain was in a whirl, and his veins ran fire, as he felt her warm breath upon him...
So:
Passionate kissing between a married woman and a Catholic priest---in a chapel.
In a novel published in 1845.
Yeah. :D
64lyzard
...although to be perfectly honest, my suspicion is that this book was written chiefly as a vehicle for that moment before the altar...
65Sakerfalcon
I finished the book last night, and enjoyed Volume III quite a lot. I liked Zoe's friendship with Clara and the various romantic plots and complications.
66souloftherose
>63 lyzard: Thanks for that analysis Liz. And I thought the same about the altar moment :-)
I'm just starting Chapter VIII of Volume III and enjoying Zoe's story. I assume the fact that Zoe is a widow, in love with one man (Everard) and now also very strongly attracted to another man (Mirabeau) would also have been very shocking?
I'm just starting Chapter VIII of Volume III and enjoying Zoe's story. I assume the fact that Zoe is a widow, in love with one man (Everard) and now also very strongly attracted to another man (Mirabeau) would also have been very shocking?
67lyzard
Oh, yes! In fact there's very little in this book that wouldn't have been shocking to some degree to the Victorian reading public.
By the way, is everyone aware that Count Mirabeau was a real person?
By the way, is everyone aware that Count Mirabeau was a real person?
68lyzard
Having reached the, ahem, climax of the altar scene, Jewsbury immediately separates Zoe and Everhard; and if Everhard has sinned, he is immediately punished for it via the strange Welsh interlude that occupies Volume II, Chapter XIV.
This passage tends to get overlooked in criticism of Jewsbury's attacks on more mainstream religion, but it is even more bitter and sardonic. I don't think, however, that it intended as an attack upon the Dissenting denominations as such, but rather upon those "religions" that rule by fear, and teach hate rather love---hatred of self in the first place, but even more hatred of "the other", anyone one else who differs or disagrees---as a means of gaining power; all in God's name, of course. Following such a philosophy, we find the gentle and helpful, if misguided, Everhard converted into a "demon", a "snare" set by Satan:
"By what authority", said Everhard, indignantly, "do you interfere with me?"
"By the authority of our Master, who commands us to make our faces as flints, against the snares of the evil one. You are under the curse of Elymas the Sorcerer, when he withstood the preaching of Paul. You are blind to the truth, and wise in man's wisdom. Under the guise of helping their poor perishing bodies, you have sought to slay the souls and pervert the hearts of these sheep, who have been without a shepherd; but their eyes are now opened, and they are enabled to cast your gifts from them, and to bid you depart."
"Yes," cried his companion, taking up the word, "Satan will not willingly give up his prey, and he has placed you here as a hindrance to the great work that has begun; but the prey shall be taken from the mighty, and the lawful captive delivered. Wherefore I order you, in the name of our Master, to depart, and trouble us not."
"I certainly shall not depart at your bidding," said Everhard, calmly; "and as for troubling you, what have I done? and of what do you complain? You, who have drawn upon yourself the odium and ill-usage of the world, shall not follow the example of that world, and persecute others, the instant you obtain the power. And what is it but persecution, to denounce me in your sermons, and to attempt to drive me from my roof?"
This passage tends to get overlooked in criticism of Jewsbury's attacks on more mainstream religion, but it is even more bitter and sardonic. I don't think, however, that it intended as an attack upon the Dissenting denominations as such, but rather upon those "religions" that rule by fear, and teach hate rather love---hatred of self in the first place, but even more hatred of "the other", anyone one else who differs or disagrees---as a means of gaining power; all in God's name, of course. Following such a philosophy, we find the gentle and helpful, if misguided, Everhard converted into a "demon", a "snare" set by Satan:
"By what authority", said Everhard, indignantly, "do you interfere with me?"
"By the authority of our Master, who commands us to make our faces as flints, against the snares of the evil one. You are under the curse of Elymas the Sorcerer, when he withstood the preaching of Paul. You are blind to the truth, and wise in man's wisdom. Under the guise of helping their poor perishing bodies, you have sought to slay the souls and pervert the hearts of these sheep, who have been without a shepherd; but their eyes are now opened, and they are enabled to cast your gifts from them, and to bid you depart."
"Yes," cried his companion, taking up the word, "Satan will not willingly give up his prey, and he has placed you here as a hindrance to the great work that has begun; but the prey shall be taken from the mighty, and the lawful captive delivered. Wherefore I order you, in the name of our Master, to depart, and trouble us not."
"I certainly shall not depart at your bidding," said Everhard, calmly; "and as for troubling you, what have I done? and of what do you complain? You, who have drawn upon yourself the odium and ill-usage of the world, shall not follow the example of that world, and persecute others, the instant you obtain the power. And what is it but persecution, to denounce me in your sermons, and to attempt to drive me from my roof?"
69lyzard
...and then, when Everhard thinks things can't get any worse for him, in Volume II, Chapter XV, he publishes his book:
Everhard's bold heart almost quailed under the storm he had conjured. He was not prepared for it, he had not the least idea that he was uttering aught but the most natural truth. And he imagined that the words he spoke were so self-evident that they needed only to be said, for all men to give ear to them! The naïve and unconscious simplicity with which he delivered doctrines that made the hair of all who heard them stand on end, would have seemed comic to any one who had been cool enough to observe it. Poor Everhard had never once considered whether he were shocking prejudice or not. It had more than once struck him that he was uttering common-place truisms, and he had accordingly thought it right to make a grave apology for his want of originality. He was perfectly thunderstruck at the commotion he had raised, and was inclined to think all the world had suddenly gone mad.
It may seem incredible in these days that one book should ever have excited so much attention, but it must be remembered those were the palmy days of "Legitimacy" and "Divine Right"; consequently, when it was a point of religion to believe that whatever was, was right. Any one who then dared to lift up his voice against the existing order of things, became a marked man...
What Everhard is challenging, in other words, is the idea that God made the world as it is and therefore to suggest changing it - or more particularly, that it could be improved - was blasphemous: a philosophy which suited the wealthy and aristocratic very well, as it absolved them from doing anything about the less fortunate, or giving up any of their privileges.
This was a philosophy roundly satirised by Voltaire in Candide, wherein his naive hero suffers the most appalling abuse, only to be told repeatedly that "Everything is for the best in the best of all possible worlds".
At a more general level, this idea was usually expressed in terms of "Being content in the situation to which it pleased God to call you": poor people were supposed to stay poor, the working-classes were not supposed to "raise themselves" through education or ambition, women were supposed to be in subjection to men.
Everhard's bold heart almost quailed under the storm he had conjured. He was not prepared for it, he had not the least idea that he was uttering aught but the most natural truth. And he imagined that the words he spoke were so self-evident that they needed only to be said, for all men to give ear to them! The naïve and unconscious simplicity with which he delivered doctrines that made the hair of all who heard them stand on end, would have seemed comic to any one who had been cool enough to observe it. Poor Everhard had never once considered whether he were shocking prejudice or not. It had more than once struck him that he was uttering common-place truisms, and he had accordingly thought it right to make a grave apology for his want of originality. He was perfectly thunderstruck at the commotion he had raised, and was inclined to think all the world had suddenly gone mad.
It may seem incredible in these days that one book should ever have excited so much attention, but it must be remembered those were the palmy days of "Legitimacy" and "Divine Right"; consequently, when it was a point of religion to believe that whatever was, was right. Any one who then dared to lift up his voice against the existing order of things, became a marked man...
What Everhard is challenging, in other words, is the idea that God made the world as it is and therefore to suggest changing it - or more particularly, that it could be improved - was blasphemous: a philosophy which suited the wealthy and aristocratic very well, as it absolved them from doing anything about the less fortunate, or giving up any of their privileges.
This was a philosophy roundly satirised by Voltaire in Candide, wherein his naive hero suffers the most appalling abuse, only to be told repeatedly that "Everything is for the best in the best of all possible worlds".
At a more general level, this idea was usually expressed in terms of "Being content in the situation to which it pleased God to call you": poor people were supposed to stay poor, the working-classes were not supposed to "raise themselves" through education or ambition, women were supposed to be in subjection to men.
70souloftherose
And I've finished too!
>67 lyzard: 'By the way, is everyone aware that Count Mirabeau was a real person?'
I wasn't, until I read the introduction (after finishing, off course).
>68 lyzard:, >69 lyzard: I felt for Everhard during these sections. And then he just disappears from most of Volume III (excepting first two chapters and last chapter).
>67 lyzard: 'By the way, is everyone aware that Count Mirabeau was a real person?'
I wasn't, until I read the introduction (after finishing, off course).
>68 lyzard:, >69 lyzard: I felt for Everhard during these sections. And then he just disappears from most of Volume III (excepting first two chapters and last chapter).
71Sakerfalcon
>67 lyzard:, >70 souloftherose: I didn't know he was real either. It's a good thing he was long dead by the time Jewsbury was writing as it was not a flattering portrait of his character!
72SassyLassy
Just finished the novel about fifteen minutes ago. I have now to read the introduction and read all the above carefully, having just now skimmed it briefly. I will say though that >51 lyzard: comment is really interesting (and I agree about Ferrier's difficulties too in melding two approaches) and I shall have to read and ponder with that in mind.
I will just add that I think Everhard/Jewsbury does an excellent job of Jesuitical thinking.
I will just add that I think Everhard/Jewsbury does an excellent job of Jesuitical thinking.
73lyzard
Yes, it's hard to know what to make of the Mirabeau section. Of course Jewsbury's suggestion that a woman might be emotionally involved with one man yet sexually attracted to another was yet another thing that would have scandalised her readers, even without her dragging a real individual into the equation.
(Mind you, at the time Jewsbury was writing the suggestion that a woman might / could experience sexual desire at all would have been sufficiently shocking!)
While history best remembers Mirabeau as one of the architects of the French Revolution, I suspect that something else is going on here, given what we have been told about Zoe's taste for scandalous memoirs. Mirabeau did indeed have a reputation with the ladies, and he was also an author whose published works included his letters to one of his lovers, which were (to put it mildly) explicit, and also a work of rather literary pornography, the Erotika Biblion.
This may, indeed, be a very scholarly dirty joke by Jewsbury---one which her readers couldn't get upset about without admitting they knew what she was alluding to!
(Mind you, at the time Jewsbury was writing the suggestion that a woman might / could experience sexual desire at all would have been sufficiently shocking!)
While history best remembers Mirabeau as one of the architects of the French Revolution, I suspect that something else is going on here, given what we have been told about Zoe's taste for scandalous memoirs. Mirabeau did indeed have a reputation with the ladies, and he was also an author whose published works included his letters to one of his lovers, which were (to put it mildly) explicit, and also a work of rather literary pornography, the Erotika Biblion.
This may, indeed, be a very scholarly dirty joke by Jewsbury---one which her readers couldn't get upset about without admitting they knew what she was alluding to!
75lauralkeet
>73 lyzard: history best remembers Mirabeau as one of the architects of the French Revolution
Oh ... that Mirabeau. Doh! I missed that completely. Feeling a little stupid at the moment.
Oh ... that Mirabeau. Doh! I missed that completely. Feeling a little stupid at the moment.
76lyzard
No need! It's such a wacky bit of "casting" that there's no reason anyone should connect him with his later activities.
77SassyLassy
Just occurred to me while reading >75 lauralkeet: and >76 lyzard:, but the fictional aspects of Mirabeau almost seem like a proto-Heathcliff.
78lyzard
It's a strange interlude all around. I wonder if the point was to show that while women (or at least, Zoe) could be sexually attracted to a man - shocking enough - she wouldn't do something as shocking as putting him before her children?
Another interesting thing about this book is Zoe's attitude to motherhood - at least, it's strange in contemporary terms - with the narrative making it clear that she is a good and loving mother without that becoming the be-all and end-all of her existence, as so much of this era's literature implied "should" be a woman's destiny. It's actually refreshing to find a character not going to one extreme or the other in this respect.
Another interesting thing about this book is Zoe's attitude to motherhood - at least, it's strange in contemporary terms - with the narrative making it clear that she is a good and loving mother without that becoming the be-all and end-all of her existence, as so much of this era's literature implied "should" be a woman's destiny. It's actually refreshing to find a character not going to one extreme or the other in this respect.
79lyzard
>77 SassyLassy:
Funny you should mention Heathcliff... :)
People, please take a moment to pop over to the main thread for the Virago Chronological Read Project - there is something I would appreciate some input on.
Thank you!
Funny you should mention Heathcliff... :)
People, please take a moment to pop over to the main thread for the Virago Chronological Read Project - there is something I would appreciate some input on.
Thank you!
80lyzard
Allrighty...it seems that we're done here, so I'll just add a few concluding remarks.
There's no question that Zoe is a very odd book, and in someways quite a difficult one. In addition to its deliberately provocative material, I found myself admiring it simply for its complete refusal to be like any other Victorian novel, or to take any of its subplots in the usual direction. I can hardly imagine how contemporary readers must have reacted to it.
My main issue with it is that there's too much telling and not enough showing when it comes to Zoe herself: we keep hearing about the "brilliance" of her conversation, but we get precious few examples of it! In a narrative where Zoe's individualism, her "magnetic" personality, is so important, I think we're asked to take too much for granted.
How do others feel about it?
There's no question that Zoe is a very odd book, and in someways quite a difficult one. In addition to its deliberately provocative material, I found myself admiring it simply for its complete refusal to be like any other Victorian novel, or to take any of its subplots in the usual direction. I can hardly imagine how contemporary readers must have reacted to it.
My main issue with it is that there's too much telling and not enough showing when it comes to Zoe herself: we keep hearing about the "brilliance" of her conversation, but we get precious few examples of it! In a narrative where Zoe's individualism, her "magnetic" personality, is so important, I think we're asked to take too much for granted.
How do others feel about it?
81Sakerfalcon
>80 lyzard: I agree about the balance of telling to showing. I don't doubt that the book would be more engaging overall if we had more direct conversation between Zoe and others. Perhaps that's why I found myself reading more avidly during the scenes with Marian, Clothilde and co - they were more chatty and less inward-focused.
>78 lyzard: I also liked the way Zoe was shown as a fond mother yet one who maintains her sense of self as an individual, not just as the bearer of children. I did find it hugely ironic that the loss of whatever religious faith she had came about during childbirth, which was supposed to be the purpose of woman's existence and her ultimate fulfillment according to religious thought at the time!
I thought that this was a worthwhile and thought-provoking read, one that I'm glad to have spend time with. I may not reread it, but I will take up my copy of The half-sisters at some point.
Thanks for yet another good group read and discussion!
>78 lyzard: I also liked the way Zoe was shown as a fond mother yet one who maintains her sense of self as an individual, not just as the bearer of children. I did find it hugely ironic that the loss of whatever religious faith she had came about during childbirth, which was supposed to be the purpose of woman's existence and her ultimate fulfillment according to religious thought at the time!
I thought that this was a worthwhile and thought-provoking read, one that I'm glad to have spend time with. I may not reread it, but I will take up my copy of The half-sisters at some point.
Thanks for yet another good group read and discussion!
