Tag Archives: The Enchanted April

Some Monstrous Women in Books

Monstrous women appear in many novels, including those written by women. Some are redeemed, and some are defeated and one or two even triumph. A few are the main character. They all help the plot along in some way. I note that men can be monstrous too, but when they behave as these women do it appears insignificant. 

For this post I present some books that include monstrous women, with links to my reviews on Bookword.

Unredeemed

Angel by Elizabeth Taylor (1957)

Angel is monstrous; a writer of flamboyant and excessive fiction that is full of errors and anachronisms and other writerly solecisms (such as using real people’s names). The financial success of her novels came from the popularity of her overblown prose and the outrageousness of her style. Angel herself was certain that she should be spoken of in the same breath as Shakespeare and Goethe (whose name she could not pronounce). Her publisher says that she writes ‘with ignorance and imagination’. She has no sense of humour, no self-doubt and no judgement. Angel is arrogant, rude, selfish and opinionated, and what she doesn’t like she ignores (such as her aunt, the First World War, critics, poverty, people who challenge her).

Flora in The Soul of Kindness, also by Elizabeth Taylor, (1964) has a magnificent unawareness and entitlement that drives people to death, unsuitable marriage and misery. We all know someone like Flora, attractive, without insight or self-awareness, but yet she is everybody’s favourite. Perhaps we even want to be her friend, because some of her lustre might rub off on us. Elizabeth Taylor shows us the damage such creatures can create.

Great Granny Webster by Caroline Blackwood (1977)

The narrator is sent to stay with her great-grandmother and finds the experience horrific. The old lady had a toxic upbringing imbued with Victorian middleclass values. She imposes on her young relative the rigid formality, the meeting of the expectations of others, the refusal to express emotions, the belief in her own righteousness, all from that upbringing.

And these get their come-uppance

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (1813)

We learn that Lady Catherine de Bourgh ‘was extremely indignant’ at the marriage of her nephew, Mr Darcy, to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, ‘and she gave way to all the genuine frankness of her character’. She had paid a warning visit to Elizabeth in which she told the young woman,

‘Miss Bennet, you ought to know that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere you may choose to be, you will not find me so. My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it.’ 

Her abusive language to her nephew severed relations for a while, eventually smoothed over by Elizabeth.

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier (1938) 335

Few women live in the imagination as strongly as Mrs Danvers, in contrast to the meek second never-named wife of Max de Winter. The housekeeper resents the new wife and seems to own Manderley in the absence of the first Mrs de Winter. As a character she is a brilliant invention. But I wonder how the reader is so easily convinced of Max’s innocence, and how much that is a reaction to Mrs Danvers’s creepy and threatening presence.

Abbess of Crewe by Muriel Spark (1974) 

Mocking the great, is what Muriel Spark is about in this novel that is a parody of Richard Nixon’s downfall. Sister Alexandra, in white, corrupts and exploits the other sisters, in black. She records everything and is wittily exposed in this novel.

Beowulf

Grendel’s mother in the Anglo-Saxon poem Beowulf is portrayed as an ignorant hag-like creature, living in a pool of water-snakes, scarcely able to communicate with her son. Maddened by the death of her son at the hands of the first superhero, she is defeated in turn in her own cave. There is an alternative feminist version to this misogyny: The Mere Wife by Maria Dahvana Headley.

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte (1847) 

Jane’s aunt, Mrs Sarah Reed, resents the necessity for her orphaned niece to join her household and treats her very badly and banishes her to Lowood Hall School.

They Were Sisters by Dorothy Whipple (1943)

Three sisters are contrasted in this novel. One of these is Vera who is so beautiful that every door is opened to her, all difficulty smoothed out of her way, all misdemeanours forgiven, until she becomes middle-aged. She treats her husband with flagrant unkindness, and when he leaves her, looks round for another admirer. Her nemesis is age, and she is forced to face her weaknesses when her niece replaces her in a young man’s attentions. Vera is too weak to give up the young man and they run away to a life of more unhappiness in South Africa.

Hidden Qualities

Some apparently horrendous women are revealed to have hidden qualities.

 

Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout (2008) 

In the first volume of short stories of Olive Kitteridge, the former schoolteacher is revealed as a very flawed individual. But in the second volume, Olive, Again (2010), she has become quite sympathetic, perhaps because we understand her more. Is this the Dirty Den syndrome, whereby the audience loves a baddie if they experience enough of them?

The Door by Magda Szabo (1987) 

Translated from the Hungarian by Len Rix

Emerence acts as housekeeper to a novelist, choses her clients and behaves in what appears to be a high-handed even predatory manner, intimidating her clients and her neighbours. She is not so much redeemed as explained in this magnificent Hungarian novel. 

The Enchanted April by Elizabeth von Arnim (1922)

Mrs Fisher is definitely saved in this much-loved novel about four ill-assorted women who spend a month together in an Italian castle. She is saved through Italian sunshine and the sunny disposition of Lotty.

The Girl with the Louding Voice by Abi Daré (2020)

And now, meet Big Madam as 14-year-old Adunni meets her in Lagos.

The cool air inside the car is escaping with a strong flower smell as somebody is climbing out. First thing I am seeing is feets. Yellow feets, black toes. There is different colour paint on all the toenails: red, green, purple, orange, gold. The smallest of the toes is having a gold ring on it. Her whole body is almost filling the whole compound as she is coming out. I am now understanding why they are calling her Big Madam. When she come out, she draw deep breath and her chest, wide like a blackboard, is climbing up and down, up and down. It is as if this woman is using her nostrils to be collecting all the heating from the outside and making us be catching cold. I am standing beside Mr Kola, and his body is shaking like my own. Even the trees in the compound, the yellow, pink, blue flowers in the long flower pot, all of them are shaking. (122)

Big Madam enslaves Adunni, to work in her house, and to live in a shack in the compound. Adunni is valued by many of the people she meets, who help her achieve her ambitions – to do with the ‘louding’ voice – and to which Big Madam must eventually accede. 

The Hottest Dishes of the Tartar Cuisine by Alina Bronsky (2010)

My Grandmother’s Braid by Alina Bronsky (2019)

Both novels were translated from the German by Tim Mohr

In both books there is a monstrous, interfering and overwhelming grandmother. Both behave in underhand and shocking ways, with lack of consideration for others. They are stories about unconditional love that is expressed in curious and sometimes hilarious ways.

Not yet categorised as monstrous

Guard your Daughters by Dorothy Tutton (1953)

The mother in this novel exerts control and limits her five daughter’s experiences to her own advantage. Is she monstrous?

Eva Trout by Elizabeth Bowen (1969)

The main character challenges many conventions about women, maternal feelings, obsession with appearance, desire to marry, and independent wealth. I am not sure I understand what the author was doing with this unlikely character, but I believe she is not monstrous.

You may have your own suggestions of monstrous female characters to add to this list?

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Filed under Books, Feminism, Older women in fiction, Reading, Reviews, Women in Translation, Women of Colour

The Enchanted April by Elizabeth von Arnim

The Enchanted April is a fairy tale, as you can tell from the title and it is the 28th in the Bookword series of Older Women in Fiction. You can find the others on the page Older Women in Fiction Series, above the heading picture.

Four women, unhappy in their different ways, find happiness and love during the month of April, which they spend together in an Italian Castle on the shores of the Mediterranean Sea. Old Mrs Fisher is lonely, angry and very eager to pick up impertinence in others. By the end of the month she too has succumbed to the enchantments of their month in Italy. Published 95 years ago The Enchanted April remains popular.

The Story

Lotty Wilkins sees an advert for a castle by the Mediterranean, available for the month of April. It is a dreary wet day in London in the years soon after the end of the First World War and Lotty is looking forward to nothing. She persuades a casual acquaintance, Rose Arbuthnot, to go with her to Italy. Two other guests join them: Lady Caroline, so beautiful every man must turn into a ‘grabber’, and a widow known always as Mrs Fisher.

The worst of the four women as well as their best is revealed during their stay. Each is escaping some situation at home and each will find unexpected happiness by the end of the month. The magic is wrought by two factors: the glorious surroundings, especially the magnificent gardens, in which they find themselves and their reactions to Lotty’s affectionate and generous spirit.

The story is told with a great deal of humour, some situational, some in throwaway asides by the characters. All the women change and reveal characters of some depth. What is proper and how it restricts women and their happiness and their men’s too, are the main themes of the novel. For the older women in fiction series I focus here on Mrs Fisher.

The Older Woman, Mrs Fisher

Mrs Fisher is 65 and a widow. It is not entirely clear why she agrees to join the group.

She only asked, she said, to be allowed to sit quiet in the sun and remember. (33)

And remembering is what she spends her time doing, rereading and remembering the Victorian men of letters she met in her youth, her father having been an eminent critic. From their arrival at the castle Mrs Fisher is demanding and domineering. She makes and acts upon assumptions, taking the place at the head of the table, commandeering one of the two sitting rooms for her exclusive use, and judging everyone with whom she comes into contact.

Elizabeth von Arnim describes her as angry, acquisitive and selfish. The old woman uses the excuse of her stick for all her antisocial actions. She is very sure in her opinions about respectable behaviour. She judges people on the basis of their punctuality, whether they speak grammatically, and if they spend their time usefully – meaning in her case reading the Victorian greats. She keeps up an internal and spiteful monologue, and her most common rebuke spoken out loud is ‘really!’ and to herself, ‘how impertinent!’ I think I have met people like Mrs Fisher.

Nothing could affect her, of course: nothing that anybody did. She was far too solidly seated in respectability. (74)

In her own opinion she has avoided the indignity of behaving as if she were younger than she is.

She herself had grown old as people should grow old, – steadily and firmly. No interruptions, no belated after-glows and spasmodic returns. (188)

The reader hopes she will be so shocked she will pack up and return to London. Rose tries to challenge her using reason, but Lotty simply suggests to Mrs Fisher that she will change in time. And gradually Mrs Fisher does change, responding to their surroundings, and to Lotty’s unstinting warmth. Mrs Fisher begins to have ‘odd sensations’, restlessness, time wasting, and moving around without her stick.

She responds favourably to the arrival of men, despite first meeting Lotty’s husband when he is clad only in a towel. She responds to their courtesy, their deference puts her at ease or brings out maternal feelings.

She notices that the old Victorians, being dead no longer have anything to offer her, so she stops reading them. And as she reflects on her situation she sees that her friends’ idea that one should never change is rather silly.

Old friends, reflected Mrs Fisher, who hoped she was reading, compare one constantly with what one used to be. They are always doing it if one develops. They are surprised at development. They hark back; they expect motionless after, say, fifty, to the end of one’s life. (189)

Lotty notices the changes in Mrs Fisher.

‘Poor old dear,’ she thought, all the loneliness of age flashing upon her, the loneliness of having outstayed one’s welcome in the world, of being in it only on sufferance, the complete loneliness of the old childless woman who has failed to make friends. It did seem that people could only really be happy in pairs, not in the least necessarily lovers, but pairs of friends, pairs of mothers and children, of brothers and sisters – and where was the other half of Mrs Fisher’s pair going to be found? (260)

The answer, of course, is that it is Lotty’s warmth that rescues her. She gains Lotty’s friendship by the time the month draws to an end. And Mrs Fisher has been transformed.

The image of old age

The picture of the unhappy and lonely older woman who takes her dissatisfaction out on those around her holds both elements of caricature and of truth. In the end Mrs Fisher is redeemed, no doubt abandoning her stick in the Italian castle.

The Enchanted April by Elizabeth von Arnim, first published in 1922. I read the edition published in 2015 by Vintage 262pp

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Filed under Books, Older women in fiction, Reading, Reviews