Even though Margaret diverges from the conventional
dimensions of femininity she is also committed to the creation and maintenance
of the private sphere, complicating any simple categorisation of the heroine as
either a challenger or endorser of Victorian domestic ideology. Spirited,
strong minded and opinionated, Margaret is far from the typical representation
of a perfect Victorian lady, such as her female counterpart, Edith Lennox (née
Shaw). Edith is portrayed as the picture of womanliness in her “white muslin
and blue ribbons” (5), a traditional ‘angel in the house,’ exhibiting a
“natural submission to authority and an innate maternal instinct” (Vicinus x). Whereas
Margaret is described as a “tall, finely made figure” (9) whose mouth is “no
rosebud, [formed] to let out a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ and ‘an’t please you, sir” (17). Although
Margaret is not shy of intruding into the masculine realm of politics and
debate when she arrives in Milton-Northern, she is also committed to creating
domestic comfort for her parents in the private sphere of the home, which she
describes as a sort of ‘paradise’ to Henry Lennox (12). Both
Mr and Mrs Hale rely completely on Margaret when they move from Helstone and
arrive in Milton-Northern, leaving the “management of [household] affairs to
her” (49). Furthermore, after her mother’s death, Frederick and Mr Hale are
utterly dependent on Margaret’s “working, planning, [and] considering” (252)
within the private sphere to make “everything look as cheerful as possible” (252)
in the midst of grief. Gaskell praises Margaret’s independence but doesn’t
alienate her from the private sphere, thwarting any simple pre-analytical
categorisation of Margaret as either a challenger or endorser of Victorian
notions on femininity and woman’s roles.
While
at first it seems Margaret is overstepping the bounds of acceptable behaviour
by participating in a heated debate with Mr Thornton, Gaskell is in fact
presenting an enlightened view of a woman’s capability for social engagement
which doesn’t challenge conventional expectations. This scene is the first time
Margaret purposefully transgresses into the realm of men and political debate, separating
herself from the more conventional female characters with their “querulous
domestic refrains” (Bodenheimer 63), such as Edith, Aunt Shaw and Mrs Hale. Confronted with Mr Thornton’s despotic
view on masters and men, Margaret argues for what she calls ‘mutual duty and
dependence’ (122) between the mill owners and their workers. Her emotions
running the gamut from laughter (123) to coldness (124) during the course of
the conversation, Margaret gets the final word when she contradicts Mr
Thornton’s claims, “I am trying to reconcile your admiration of despotism with
your respect for other men’s independence of character” (124). Even though Mr
Thornton is “vexed” by Margaret’s responses, her active participation in the
debate serves to make him “cooler and more thoughtful” (119). A woman’s
opinions expressed within the confines of the home were to be admired, as she
may be “someone to whom a man can turn when he seeks to be guided by ‘abstract
principles of right and wrong’” (Harman 352). Domestic apologists, such as John Ruskin,
encouraged the idea of women as an “independent moral resource[s]” to be consulted
(Harman 352). Margaret endorses Ruskin’s portrayal of femininity as her
emotional and highly charged responses to Mr Thornton are confined within the
protection of the private sphere. By
having Margaret participate in a heated debate with Mr Thornton on political
topics, Gaskell is presenting a more enlightened attitude towards a woman’s
capacity for social engagement with men which doesn’t challenge conventional Victorian
notions.
Margaret’s
explicit public actions during the strike scene dramatically violate the
Victorian concept of ‘separate spheres.’ Refusing
to stay secure inside the Thornton’s home with the womenfolk, Margaret rushes into
the public domain to defend Mr Thornton from the “demonic desire” of the
“terrible wild beast” – the mob (176). In a moment of passionate conviction
Margaret persuades Mr Thornton to go down to the strikers and “face them like a
man” (177). It is only after he leaves that she comprehends the grave danger
she has placed him in, and “with a cry…she rushed out of the room, downstairs,
- she had lifted the great iron bar of the door with an imperious force…and was
there, in that angry sea of men, her eyes smiting them with flaming arrows of
reproach” (178). Mr Thornton, realising Margaret has over-stepped conventional
boundaries tells her to leave as “this is no place for you,” but claiming that “it
is!” Margaret “threw her arms around him; she made her body into a shield from
the fierce people beyond” (179). In this dramatic reversal of conventional
gender relations, Barbara Leah Harman suggests that Gaskell is making an unspoken
claim through Margaret’s public self-display that women belong in the public
realm (368). John Pikoulous describes
this scene as “one of the most thrilling moments in Victorian literature,
representing as it does the first time that a woman has convincingly
established herself on the public stage in her own right” (cited in Harman 366). Isolated in the moment of unfolding action,
Margaret’s sudden appearance and subsequent intervention in the strike scene appear
to challenge long-held notions on female exclusion from the public sphere,
implicitly asserting that women belong there too.
Instead
of making a gesture of ‘social idealism’ as suggested by Pikoulous, the
potential significance of Margaret’s foray into the public sphere is ambiguous
and superseded by the heroine’s attempt to reinstate herself within the
conventional framework of Victorian constraints. As Rosemarie Bodenheimer points out, while Margaret might “deliberately overrun
the separation between men’s and women’s spheres” her response is moulded by
“conventional domestic ideology” (62). Contemplating her actions and analysing
her feelings after the strike, Margaret agonises to herself, “I, who hate
scenes – I, who have despised people for showing emotion – who have thought
them wanting in self-control – I went down and must needs throw myself into the
melee, like a romantic fool! (190). Knowing full well that female participation
in public life would compromise a woman’s virtue (Harman 357), Margaret seeks
to restore her femininity by legitimising her actions as “woman’s work” (191). This “woman’s
work” is guided by an innate female duty to protect rather than a desire to
make a political or, as some characters misinterpret, a sexual statement. Margaret
makes this clear when she rebuts Mr Thornton’s proposal, “Why, there was not a
man – not a poor desperate man in all that crowd…for whom I should not have
done what little I could more heartily” (195). The fact that the heroine feels
a “deep sense of shame that she should be the object of universal regard” (191)
illustrates Margaret’s mortification that she has left the protection of the
private sphere and subjected herself to unwomanly publicity. Nonetheless, there
is a danger in assuming Gaskell is advocating any one set interpretation of
Margaret’s endorsement of Victorian notions concerning a woman’s place. Pearl
L. Brown suggests that Gaskell may be promoting the value of extending womanly
moral influence into the public world (355). However, even if this is the case,
rather than emerging as a supporter for female liberation, Margaret only
briefly transgresses into public life before retreating into the confines of
acceptable behaviour.
Margaret
is further exposed to the public realm of men when she passionately denies
being at the train station and lies to a police officer in order to save
Frederick from prosecution, an act which challenges femininity by compromising
Margaret’s moral purity and reputation. Although said out of love and a desire
to protect, Bodenheimer sees Margaret’s lie as an act “visibly and directly in
the male world,” implicating Gaskell’s heroine “with the moral ambiguity of
action in the public realm” (62). Conventionally a woman, “by her offer and
place… is protected from all danger and temptation,” but when Margaret enters
the “open world” she “must encounter all peril and trial” (Vicinus 126) and act
like a man. The police officer is stunned by Margaret’s seemingly hardened and
imperious nature, : “She
never blenched or trembled. She fixed him with her eye… showed no emotion, no
fluttering fear, no anxiety” (273). However, Gaskell does not glorify this
challenge against male authority and Victorian ideology, instead presenting the
action as an instinctive, though flawed move on Margaret’s part to protect her
brother; “Oh,
Frederick! Frederick! What have I not sacrificed for you!” (283). Like the
strike scene, once Margaret has contemplated her actions and analysed her
feelings, her response is directly influenced by domestic ideology. Unable to
act in the public sphere without “guiltily repenting of her own violation of
the [moral] law” (Harman 370), Margaret regrets how she has “stained her [feminine]
whiteness by falsehood” (280). She would not disagree with Mr Thornton when he
asks himself, “How could one so pure have stooped from her decorous and noble
manner of bearing!” (279). Fixated on her sin, Margaret holds an “innate
conviction that it was wrong” (399) to lie even though it had the potential to
save Frederick. In a society which linked femininity with moral purity in the
form of truthfulness and innocence (Vicinus ix), Margaret’s transgression into
the public sphere through lies and deceit is denounced by both Gaskell and the heroine.
The
contradictory nature of not only Margaret’s characterisation but also her most
intense emotional experiences in Milton-Northern complicates any
straightforward categorisation of the heroine’s actions as either direct
challenges against or clear endorsements for Victorian gender ideals. While
Gaskell depicts Margaret as an independent young woman, dissimilar from the
stereotypically feminine Edith, she still promotes her female protagonist’s
role in the private sphere as a guiding force for the Hale family. Although the
‘masters and men’ dialogue extends the nature of ‘proper’ female socialisation in
debating political issues, Margaret doesn’t challenge Victorian standards as
the conversation takes place within the confines of the private sphere. Instead
what Gaskell seems to be endorsing is the value of a woman’s moral influence on
male rationality. Nonetheless, Margaret’s explicit public actions, during the
strike scene and lying scene, directly challenge the Victorian concept of
‘separate spheres.’ However, what becomes clear is that once Margaret has
‘analysed her feelings,’ particularly after the strike, she re-conceptualises
her actions in an attempt to place them within the boundaries of acceptable
“woman’s work” (191). Critics often see Gaskell’s portrayal of Margaret as a
sign of a conservative spirit (Harman 374). It is true that Margaret is no
champion for female emancipation; yet, as demonstrated by this essay, while
Victorian society was still not ready for the ‘Margaret Hales’ of Great Britain
to take the public stage, Gaskell’s heroine passionately demonstrates the
ability of intelligent middle-class women to exert moral influence on the
industrial world of the North within the confines of femininity and the private
sphere.
Copyright Lydia A. Martin (2014)
Works Cited (MLA)
Bodenheimer,
Rosemarie. The Politics of Story in
Victorian Social Fiction. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1988. Print.
[Excerpt 53-68]
Brown,
Pearl L. “From Elizabeth Gaskell’s Mary Barton
to her North and South: Progress or
Decline for Women?” Victorian Literature
and Culture (2000): 345-58. Print.
Gaskell,
Elizabeth. North and South. Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2008. Print.
Harman,
Barbara Leah. “In Promiscuous Company: Female Public Appearance in Elizabeth
Gaskell’s North and South.” Victorian Studies 31.3 (1988): 351-74. Humanities International Complete. Web.
Vicinus,
Martha. Suffer and be Still. Indiana:
Indiana University Press, 1972. Print.
No comments:
Post a Comment