Whatever criticism may be levelled at the times
we live in, they will soon be seen as the “good old times”. Financial crisis,
natural disasters, global warming and the Islamic invasion will see to that.
In
The Well of Loneliness, the good old
times are those of 1920s. It must also be said that the main character is
wealthy, a detail which helps making all times seem good, regardless of the
period.
The fact that the novel takes place in the
1920s is important in order to understand (up to a point) the mentalities of
the period, whether in France or England. In France, Colette publishes Chéri and Le Blé en Herbe. She
shows up at dinner parties dressed as a man, and often accompanied by a female
lover who looks so much like her that they could pass as sisters. Lesbianism is
“in” among the wealthy, less so with popular classes. It was probably
encouraged by the fact that 1.2 million young Frenchmen had died in WW1, and more
than 4 million had returned home wounded and incapacitated (out of a population
of 39 million). Even though human losses had been equally horrendous in Britain
(900,000 casualties), the “What would
people say ?” mentality still reigned supreme. Being or not being invited for
tea or luncheon by Lady so and so or Lord such and such seemed to be the most
important measure of one’s worth in that arrogant little world.
The main character is called Stephen, but she’s
a girl ; her parents had wanted a boy. Stephen plays along cheerfully : she
rides, hunts and fences like a boy.
When Stephen turns eighteen, a nice young man,
a Canadian staying in England, falls in love with her, but although she is very
fond of him, she refuses to marry him, and he goes back to British Columbia.
For almost half the novel, Stephen is like a
sexless being, attracted to neither males nor females. Her first love will be
for a young American woman, but it never goes beyond a few kisses.
During the war, Stephen joins the Red Cross as
an ambulance driver and is even wounded in the process : a piece of shrapnel
slashes her cheek and leaves an ugly scar. She falls in love with her co-driver
: Mary, a charming, uncomplicated, cheerful girl who likes birds and flowers.
Mary will be the first and only true love in Stephen’s life. After the war, the
two women stay in Paris where they don’t feel as severely judged and condemned
as they would be in England.
Stephen’s dream was to go back to Gordon Hall,
the family seat. Mary also dreams of a Gordon she’s never seen. However, Anna,
Stephen’s mother, will have none of it. Stephen must remain an exile. Paris is
nice, but it’s not home.
Unbeknownst to the girls, the pre-war Canadian suitor
has also been staying in Paris after the war. What happens next is for readers
to discover.
The tyranny of respectability (or what is seen
as such) imposed on Stephan is absolutely stifling. As you sink deeper and
deeper into the novel, you feel almost choked by the gratuitous wickedness of
the establishment. A second level of tragedy lies in the fact that Stephen
herself unconsciously approves of respectability. Fighting against herself
destroys her and plunges her in that “well of loneliness”.
Radcliffe Hall’s style is wonderful : it flows
like a symphony by Mozart or Haydn. As we read, and regardless of who we are,
male or female, young or old, we become Stephen. We live through her. We see
the world through her eyes, we hear it, smell it, touch it. It’s a constant,
delicate and potent delight… but it leaves us completely shattered and forces
us to look deeply into the well of our own loneliness.
