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Alienation and intimate relationships in six contemporary British novels 1975

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ALIENATION AND INTIMATE RELATIONSHIPS IN SIX CONTEMPORARY BRITISH NOVELS. by Wendy M. Tomlin B.A., Oregon State University, 1970. A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTSo i n the Department of English We accept t h i s thesis as conforming to the required standard THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA Apr i l 1975 In presenting th i s thesis in pa r t i a l fu l f i lment of the requirements for an advanced degree at the Univers i ty of B r i t i s h Columbia, I agree that the L ibrary shal l make it f ree ly ava i l ab le for reference and study. I fur ther agree that permission for extensive copying of th i s thes is for scho lar ly purposes may be granted by the Head of my Department or by his representat ives. It is understood that copying or pub l i ca t ion of th is thes is fo r f inanc ia l gain shal l not be allowed without my writ ten permission. Department of E n g l i s h The Univers i ty of B r i t i s h Columbia Vancouver 8, Canada D a t e 15 A p r i l , 1975 i i Abstract This study of s i x novels by three post-World War II B r i t i s h novelists deals with the philosophical and pragmatic aspects of i n - timate r e l a t i o n s h i p . Raymond Williams, i n The English Novel from Dickens to Lawrence, establishes that novelists were among the f i r s t to recognise the destruction of the old community by ind u s t r i a l i s m . Without an alternate conception of community, i n d u s t r i a l capitalism imposes i t s e l f d i r e c t l y upon the i n d i v i d u a l , and thus sets harsh l i m i t s upon the relationships he or she can create. One result i s the al i e n a t i o n that Karl Marx described as i n - herent i n the marketplaceosociety underpinning V i c t o r i a n culture; or, i n another idiom, the possessive individualism perceived by C.B. MacPherson. The increasing commercialism of s o c i e t y — t h e pro- pensity, as Adam Smith phrased i t , to truck and b a r t e r — h a s en- couraged possessiveness, and has debased and alienated the most i n - timate aspects of human existence, especially sex and love. Sex i s a central expression of the essence of l i f e , and hence sexual re- lationships are adversely affected when they are alienated from love and community. As i n the commercial transaction, intimacy i n these s i x novels i s vulnerable to the manipulation and the exp l o i t - ation of one person by another, because there i s no willingness to become involved i n a re c i p r o c a l r e l a t i o n s h i p . This commentary on the novels o.f?John Fowles, Doris Lessing, and David Storey suggests some tentative conclusions about intimacy i n the l a t t e r part of the 2 0 t h century. The working class novels i i i generally emphasise t r a d i t i o n a l relationships; and t e l l us that i n d i - viduals who try to discard them (as v/ith Clegg i n The Collector, and Machin i n This Sporting L i f e ) , w i l l lose £or never win) those whom they love. The emphasis upon money alienates them from t h e i r basic community, and destroys th e i r i n t e g r i t y . There i s no intimacy d i - vorced from the primary s o c i a l r e l a t i o n s h i p . Middle class protagonists move^ away from community as they become dominant i n a marketplace society. Their success trans- forms- them into alienated and possessive i n d i v i d u a l i s t s ; and t h e i r belated attempt to restore a sense of intimady i s an eff o r t — p e r h a p s t r a g i c — t o become whole i n a fragmented world. But the relationships occur i n a vacuum. Either they f a i l , as i n The Golden Notebook, or the i n d i v i d u a l s r e j e c t intimacy, and f l e e forward from community into a super-individualism as with Martha Quest i n The Four-Gated C i t y . These novels t e l l us nothing of a s o c i a l movement that w i l l give the i n d i v i d u a l a sense of purpose or meaning: hence the i n - dividuals remain i s o l a t e d , and seem to lose substance. When Leonard Ra d c l i f f e , for example ( R a d c l i f f e ) , murders his community out of his need for an absolute, he preci p i t a t e s his own death. Again, Charles Smithson and Sarah Woodruff i n The French Lieutenant 1s Woman lose t h e i r v i t a l i t y and sexual commitment because Sarah i s more concerned to preserve her i n d i v i d u a l i t y . These examples serve to show that temporary and p a r t i a l re- lationships are l e t h a l to the s p i r i t . The loss of intimacy i s the re s u l t , i n the end, of the loss of the moral sense. The displace- iv merit of the r e l i g i o u s impulse to wholeness (the "disappearance^of£ God") leaves one with the hollow v i c t o r i e s of possessive individualism i n a fragmented society. Abstract . . . Introduction . • Chapter I: John Fowles Chapter II : Doris Lessing Chapter III: David Storey Conclusion . . . Footnotes . . . Bibliography . • V i t a . . . . Introduction I n d u s t r i a l i s a t i o n i n B r i t a i n i n the nineteenth century boded more than economic change. As Raymond Williams argues persuasively, i t was the agency of a s o c i a l change which i n i t i a t e d a profound c u l - t u r a l c r i s i s within the community. The mid-century l i t e r a t u r e of Charles Dickens, the Brontes, and George E l i o t , he continues, ex- plores the d i s i n t e g r a t i o n of t r a d i t i o n a l communal bonds, and the increasing i s o l a t i o n and "uncertainty" of the i n d i v i d u a l . That pro- cess of separating man from his community has continued into the twentieth century, where i t now involves the fragmentation of the i n d i v i d u a l . Alienated sex i n contemporary l i t e r a t u r e and f i l m , f o r example, i s a commonplace, and c l e a r l y i l l u s t r a t e s that sex has been separated from love and r e l a t i o n s h i p , as well as from the t r a d i t i o n a l s t a b i l i s i n g relationships of community and family. This study of s i x post-Wosl'd War II B r i t i s h novels w i l l consider how such a l i e n a t i o n a f f e c t s intimate r e l a t i o n s h i p s . The d i v i s i o n of l i f e into discrete and disconnected units i s one of the key observations of contemporary society. From his studies of V i c t o r i a n England, Karl Marx concluded that "an a l i e n - ated form of s o c i a l intercourse" occurs when a society becomes "a 2 commercial enterprise" which makes "salesmen" of i t s members. Marx also held that everything i s related to everything else, so that sexual intimacy as an end i n i t s e l f , f o r example, i s a l i e n a t i o n because i t i s not human. Alienated sex, he wrote, " i s not the s a t i s f a c t i o n of a need, but only a means for s a t i s f y i n g other needs. 2 The commercial society i s c l e a r l y found i n i n d u s t r i a l capitalism, Marx noted, and everything, including love and sex, i s alienable when i t entersHthe marketplace. Associated with i n d u s t r i a l a l i e n a t i o n and i s o l a t i o n i n the modern world i s an individualism which, C.B. MacPherson asserts i n a i f challenging argument, i s strongly possessive i n character. Like many observers, MacPherson recognises that Protestants distorted t h e i r p r i n c i p l e of salvation, so that i t was obtained not through a personal re l a t i o n s h i p with God, but through material success. Thenceforward, Protestant individualism, he maintains, acquired a possessive q u a l i t y , which was found i n i t s conception of the i n d i v i d u a l as e s s e n t i a l l y the proprietor of his own person or capacities, owing nothing to the society for them. The i n d i v i d u a l was seen neither as a moral whole, nor as a part of aolarger s o c i a l whole, but as an owner of himself....The human essence i s freedom from dependence on the w i l l s of others, and freedom i s a function of possession.5 MacPherson echoes Marx i n his summary of i n d u s t r i a l capitalism as a system i n which "Human society consists of a series of market re- l a t i o n s . " ^ The impulse of individualism, therefore, has provided a further basis for a l i e n a t i o n . Another c h a r a c t e r i s t i c of possessive individualism, MacPherson argues, was provided by Thomas Hobbes. Believing that relationships were formed through the "fear of other i n d i v i d u a l s , " Hobbes reasoned that the u n i l a t e r a l surrender and submergence of one person to an- 7 other would be destructive of that person's place and nature. As a consequence, MacPherson comments, l i f e becomes a ser i e s of power struggles. The constant b a t t l e for power breaks the customary 3 bonds between i n d i v i d u a l s and s o c i a l groups, thereby f u r t h e r i n - creasing a l i e n a t i o n and fragmentation. In a marketplace, possessive i n d i v i d u a l i s t s o c i e t y , t h e r e f o r e , values and e t h i c a l p r i n c i p l e s , r e l a t i o n s h i p and l o v e , as w e l l as p h y s i c a l a t t r i b u t e s and property, are a l l part of the bargaining process. An example of the e f f e c t s of t h i s dehumanising system i s g o f f e r e d by T.S. E l i o t i n The Waste Land. E l i o t etches a meeting between a t y p i s t and a "carbuncular"ccikefrk which has become a c l a s - s i c statement of the s p i r i t u a l l y a r i d sexual experience. For i t i s perfunctory and l u s t f u l , a l o v e l e s s , j o y l e s s r i t u a l enacted only to be immediately f o r g o t t e n . Without commitment, f r i e n d s h i p , or even i n t e r e s t , these two people seem i n v u l n e r a b l e even to t h e i r own emo- t i o n a l needs. And by extension, t h i s sad coupling of nameless strangers becomes a metaphor f o r l i f e i t s e l f . This l o s s of emotional commitment has disturbed other contem- porary w r i t e r s . Thus John Fowles w r i t e s that l o v e * i s a " g i v i n g without r e t u r n . . T h i s i s the quintessence the great alchemy of sex i s f o r ; and every a d u l t e r y a d u l t e r a t e s i t , every i n f i d e l i t y be- 10 t r a y s i t , every c r u e l t y clouds i t . " His conception of love appears to include i t s four c l a s s i c aspects: sex, eros, p h i l i a and agape. And f o r any k i n d of r e l a t i o n s h i p to be achieved, whether f r i e n d s h i p or intimacy, each element has to be present. In an a l i e n a t e d s o c i e t y , however, they have become separated •Defined as "the desire to maintain a r e l a t i o n s h i p i r r e s p e c t i v e of the sexual and, i n the f i n a l a n a l y s i s , any other enjoyment to be got from i t . " 9 f r o m e a c h o t h e r , a n d c a n t h e r e f o r e be b a r g a i n e d f o r ( o r a w a y ) . A n d t h r o u g h c o m m e r c i a l i s a t i o n , l o v e a s w h o l e n e s s h a s become a g l i t t e r i n g d i s p o s a b l e v e n e e r o f l i f e , a n i n e v i t a b l e c a s u a l t y i n a s o c i e t y o f " m a r k e t r e l a t i o n s . " R o l l o May i l l u s t r a t e s t h e d i f f i c u l t y i n h i s b o o k L o v e a n d W i l l , f o r t h e g e n e r a t i o n s s u c c e e d i n g t h a t o f E l i o t ' s t y p i s t s a n d c l e r k s a n d P r u f r - o c k s a r e c o m p o s e d o f d i s c r e t e i n d i v i - d u a l s , i n c r e a s i n g l y a f r a i d o f l o v e a n d c o m m i t m e n t . I t i s a s t r a n g e t h i n g i n o u r s o c i e t y t h a t w h a t g o e s i n t o b u i l d i n g a r e l a t i o n s h i p — t h e s h a r i n g o f t a s t e s , f a n t a s i e s , d r e a m s , h o p e s f o r t h e f u t u r e , a n d f e a r s f f a xom t h e p a s t — seems t o make p e o p l e more s h y a n d v u l n e r a b l e t h a n g o i n g t o b e d w i t h e a c h o t h e r . T h e y a r e more w a r y o f t h e t e n d e r n e s s t h a t g o e s w i t h p s y c h o l o g i c a l a n d s p i r i t u a l n a k e d n e s s t h a n t h e y a r e o f t h e p h y s i c a l n a k e d n e s s i n s e x u a l i n t i m a c y . ' ' ' ' L i k e M a r x a n d M a c P h e r s o n , May m a i n t a i n s t h a t s u c h n o n - i n t i m a c y i s 12 d e h u m a n i s i n g . He t h e n a p p r o a c h e s p o s s e s s i v e i n d i v i d u a l i s m f r o m t h e H o b b e s i a n p e r s p e c t i v e : t h a t t h e f e a r o f s p i r i t u a l i n t i m a c y comes f r o m t h e f e a r o f l o s i n g t h e i n n e r s e l f . B u t i r o n i c a l l y , May w r i t e s : The p a r a d o x o f l o v e I s t h a t i t i s t h e h i g h e s t d e g r e e o f a w a r e - n e s s o f t h e s e l f a s a p e r s o n a n d t h e h i g h e s t d e g r e e o f a b s o r p - t i o n i n t h e o t h e r . P i e r r e T e i l h a r d de C h a r d i n a s k s i n The Phenomenon o f Man ' A t w h a t moment do l o v e r s come i n t o t h e m o s t c o m p l e t e p o s s e s s i o n o f t h e m s e l v e s , i f n o t when t h e y a r e l o s t i n e a c h o t h e r ? ' 1 3 C o n t e m p o r a r y man , h o w e v e r , r e f u s e s t h a t i n s i g h t . T h u s i n F o w l e s ' n o v e l s , a n d i n t h o s e o f Day, id S t o r e y , l o v e i s u s e d a s a t o o l t o b e e v o k e d a t w i l l , n o t a s a means o f a f f i r m a t i o n . A n d t h e t r i v i a l i s a t i o n o f l o v e a n d t h e f r a g m e n t a t i o n o f s o c i e t y b r i n g D o r i s 1̂ L e s s i n g ' s p r o t a g o n i s t s t o a s s e r t t h a t " L o v e i s t o o d i f f i c u l t . " B u t w i t h o u t l o v e a n d i t s w h o l e n e s s , c o m m i t m e n t a n d d e e p e m o t i o n a l i n v o l v e m e n t i n a f u l l r e l a t i o n s h i p a r e - w e l l - n i g h i m p o s s i b l e . 5 The r a m i f i c a t i o n s o f t h e s e t h r e a d s o f p o s s e s s i v e i n d i v i d u a l i s m a n d a l i e n a t e d l o v e , a s s o c i a t e d w i t h t h e d i s i n t e g r a t i o n o f a common m o r a l i t y a n d c o m m u n i t y , r u n t h r o u g h a l l o f t h e n o v e l s u n d e r r e v i e w ; T h e s e a r e . i l o h n F o w l e s * The C o l l e c t o r , a n d The F r e n c h L i e u t e n a n t f e s Woman; D o r i s L e s s i n g * s The G o l d e n N o t e b o o k , a n d The F o u r - G a t e d C i t y ; a n d D a v i d S t o r e y ' s T h i s S p o r t i n g L i f e , a n d R a d c l i f f e . * F o w l e s a n d S t o r e y e x a m i n e t h e d e h u m a n i s a t i o n a n d a l i e n a t i o n r e s u l t i n g f r o m i n - d u s t r i a l i s a t i o n w i t h i n b o t h w o r k i n g a n d m i d d l e c l a s s e s . L e s s i n g , on t h e o t h e r h a n d , b e g i n s w i t h t h e f a c t o f a l i e n a t i o n , a n d u s e s t h e s e x u a l r e l a t i o n s h i p t o i l l u s t r a t e t h e m a d n e s s t h a t r e s u l t s f r o m t h e l o s s o f l o v i n g i n t i m a c y . I t s h o u l d b e n o t e d t h a t t h e amount o f o u t s i d e m a t e r i a l on t h e s e w r i t e r s i s l i m i t e d , much o f i t i n t h e f o r m o f b o o k r e v i e w s . F o w l e s a n d L e s s i n g , h o w e v e r , h a v e o f f e r e d h e l p f u l comment s o n t h e i r own w o r k , w h i c h I h a v e u s e d . • M a r g a r e t D r a b b l e a l s o w r i t e s o f r e l a t i o n s h i p , b u t I f e e l t h a t h e r n o v e l s a r e l i m i t e d i n s c o p e . T h e y d e a l ! , m a i n l y w i t h t h e m i d d l e - c l a s s , u n i v e r s i t y - e d u c a t e d woman. H e r n o v e l , The G a r r i c k Y e a r , h o w e v e r , c o n c e r n s e x t r a - m a r i t a l , a l i e n a t e d s e x , w a r f d i i t s e f f e c t s on a m a r r i a g e ; b y d e l i n e a t i n g i t h e p e r n i c i o u s n e s s o f a l i e n a t e d s e x , D r a b b l e h i g h l i g h t s t h e e n d u r i n g n a t u r e o f g e n u i n e i n t i m a c y . 6 John Fowles A recurrent theme throughout the novels and other writings of John Fowles and Doris Lessing i s the impact of society on the crea- t i v e i n d i v i d u a l . Such people, the no v e l i s t s believe, shoulder the continuing process of c i v i l i s a t i o n , but t h e i r freedom to act i s being progressively r e s t r i c t e d as the twentieth century proceeds. Fowles has written, £6r example, that his "chief concern i n The Ari s t o s i s to preserve the freedom of the i n d i v i d u a l against a l l those pr.ejss.ur.e:s-to-conform that threaten our century." Freedom i t s e l f , however, as each of h i s three novels recognises, i s sub- jected to the i n t e r n a l tensions of ambiguity and paradox, for i t i s not exercised without the pain of l o s s . Miranda, for example, loses her physical l i b e r t y when she i s kidnapped by the c o l l e c t o r exercising h i s freedom. I r o n i c a l l y , however, he loses his freedom at the same time. A l l the novels are s i m i l a r l y i r o n i c . Freedom becomes more i r o n i c i n the s t o r i e s when i t accompanies possession i n either i t s t r a d i t i o n a l forms of madness, ownership and passion (as described i n William Shakespeare's A Midsummer 2 Night's Dream ), or the l a t e r form of possessive individualism. The two novels under discussion i l l u s t r a t e the progress of t h i s theme of freedom, for they document a fundamental s h i f t i n values that occur- red with i n d u s t r i a l capitalism: the freedom gained i n the nineteenth century from feudal servitude changes to the shackled s p i r i t of i n - d u s t r i a l i s e d .taentieth century man. Shakespeare's madmen, lovers and poets are "possessed" by 7 "shaping fantasies," and Fowles i s conscious of that "magical" h e r i - tage when he writes that as an author, he "want[s] to be possessed 3 by [ h i s ] own creations." He, however, i s i n control of his fan- tas i e s , because he knowingly imposes moral, emotional, and psycho- l o g i c a l l i m i t s on his imagination, and can delib e r a t e l y introduce ambiguity. His characters,con the other hand, are not consciously knowing, and are possessed by visio n s which are creative and yet may undermine t h e i r sanity and sense of r e a l i t y . The c o l l e c t o r , for example, i s possessed by madness as well as passion because his dreams have no inherent moral or e t h i c a l foundation. if The C o l l e c t o r i s a horror t a l e . It consists of two d i a r i e s which gradually reveal the increasing ter r o r that develops when Miranda Grey i s imprisoned by Frederick Clegg. The two versions of the same events counterpoint each other, and provide a word- stereopticon for viewing the ambiguities of freedom. Through t h i s technique, Fowles heightens suspense, for the reader sees the v i c - tim f i r s t through Clegg's eyes and senses. The diary form also psychologically i n t e n s i f i e s the fr u s t r a t i o n s f e l t by the two people, for i t makes use of the l i n e a r nature of words. The device success- f u l l y symbolises the emotional and psychological b a r r i e r s between Miranda and Clegg by physically dramatising t h e i r separateness. Consistent with Fowles' issue of human freedom, the reader i s also blocked from resolving the two points of view. That lack of resolution,however, i s also partly the f a u l t of the novel, for the characters are l i m i t e d , stereotyped, and always subjective. The lack of irony, pointed out by Whitney B a l l i e t t i n his review for the 8 New Yorker, adds to the subjective strength of the t a l e , but allows no distancing. The story i s so h o r r i f y i n g that i t s l i t e r a l n e s s leads to a reduced sense of involvement. In his introduction to h i s c o l l e c t i o n of aphorisms, The A r i s t o s , Fowles maintains that i n The Col l e c t o r he t r i e d "to e s t a b l i s h the innocence of the Many," of which Clegg i s a symbol. Clegg i s inno- cent because the i n d u s t r i a l c a p i t a l i s t society provides an environ- ment which creates men who are i n d u s t r i a l i s e d , uneducated, and a l i e n - ated. They are consequently not responsible f o r t h e i r choices, f o r they are not given the t r a i n i n g to exercise good judgement. Through lack of control over t h e i r environment, Fowles continues, the e v i l of the Many overcomes pote n t i a l good. Thus Clegg i s an 'i d e a l type'; a d i s t i l l a t i o n of the alienated man as a t y p i c a l product of a c a p i t a l i s t society. And the dehumani- sation which accompanies al i e n a t i o n , Fowles seems to be saying, makes Clegg a-moral and therefore non-responsible, Clegg 1s c r e d i - b i l i t y therefore depends upon the reader's acceptance of the e v i l s accompanying marketplace society. Even as an alienated man, however, Clegg i s responsible to the values of the marketplace. F i r s t through his white-collar job, and then his abandonment of the family, Clegg re j e c t s the values of pre-industrialism and the working class, and thereby becomes a t y p i c a l c h i l d of the marketplace. Those readers, therefore, who draw back from Fowles' picture of the t o t a l i t a r i a n and barbaric elements of twentieth century B r i t a i n defeating the c i v i l i s e d by weak democracy are missing the central element of Fowles' truth: Clegg i s the l o g i c a l conclusion of a marketplace society 9 which has become so corrupted with the need to possess that i t com- promises i t s own raison d ' e t r e . Thus he cannot l e t Miranda leave even though his marketplace p r i n c i p l e s demand that i f she wants to be free to function i n a larger marketplace, she should be allowed to do so. Clegg i s unable to function consistently, however, because he i s infected with the " v i r u s " of inequality (Fowles 1 "one word" to 7 "sum up a l l that i s wrong with our world" ). As a lowly bureaucrat he has been c u l t u r a l l y co-opted into the myth of upward mobility, and once moulded by the c a p i t a l i s t world, he becomes both i t s victim and one of i t s strongest p r a c t i t i o n e r s . He i s disgusted with i t s con- temporary manifestations, however, and fir m l y comes to believe that i.£ he can create a marketplace fo r himself and one other person, they w i l l create together a pure and i d e a l society of equals. His eu- phoria can thus be e a s i l y understood when he wins the f o o t b a l l pools, for he now has the means to r e a l i s e h i s dream. He f i r s t pays o f f his fellow Town H a l l workers i n the manner of the marketplace, then sends his aunt and cousin to A u s t r a l i a . He i s alone, and no longer responsible to anyone except himself. But he has neither the native i n t e l l e c t nor the imaginative sympathy to understand the subversive e f f e c t of h i s new idiom of l i f e , and he extracts only the power of possession from h i s f i n a n c i a l freedom. Clegg has long been possessed by h i s dream of Miranda, and t h i s i s the major possession of the novel. Only from that do we move to his physical possession of her i n h i s house. He Lkidnaps her i n order to f u l f i l l h i s dream, but because hi s v i s i o n of love i s roman- 10 t i c i s e d marketplace possessiveness, no kind of re l a t i o n s h i p can de- velop. He becomes increasingly confused once Miranda becomes h i s prisoner, f o r she i s converted into a piece of property; and her ref u s a l to submit to him finds him unprepared. His romanticism feeds h i s fantasy and obscures the r e a l i t y , for he dreams that prox- imity and declarations of love are s u f f i c i e n t to create the bonds of trust necessary for a loving r e l a t i o n s h i p . In t h i s s i t u a t i o n of possessor/possessed, however, the nature of the association Miranda and Clegg es t a b l i s h i s c r u c i a l . The novel explores the cruelty of dreams that prevent both protagonists from confronting dilemmas which can only be resolved i f the com- p l e x i t i e s of the s i t u a t i o n are seen c l e a r l y . When Clegg captures Miranda as though she were one of his b u t t e r f l i e s , therefore, the dream of his f a i r y - t a l e r e l a t i o n s h i p i s revealed to be hollow. He i s unaware r f o r example, that even i n the marketplace, close relationshipstshoulcl be voluntary associations. From the beginning, his dreams have been unreal, f o r they are woven around an object rather than a person, and the s i m p l i c i t y of Mir- anda's abduction accentuates his i l l u s i o n s about h i s new poweroand i t s beneficent e f f e c t s on him. The common inte r e s t s and mutual a t t r a c t i o n which are customary bases for a rela t i o n s h i p are, for example, s t i l l absent. Miranda cannot act normally under the con- di t i o n s of a br u t a l imprisonment, while 'Ferdinand' (her increasingly i r o n i c name f o r him) only wants to look at her i n the delight of possession. As a r e s u l t , the story d e t a i l s an increasing hatred and cunning and the evolution of mutual t e r r o r . Several factors l i e be- 11 hind t h i s frightening impasse. Neither Clegg norejSliranda has pa r t i c i p a t e d i n a major r e l a t i o n - ship, even within a family. As a "salesman" i n the marketplace, Clegg i s able to evade the knowledge that h i s pleasure may be based upon cruelty to others, just as he has to k i l l the b u t t e r f l i e s i n order to enjoy them. By disassociating h i s need to possess from his r e s p o n s i b i l i t y to the things possessed, he i s able to measure and count, and then to control them without being troubled by pro- blems of morality or et h i c s . Unable to measure hi s fellow workers at the Town H a l l i n the same way^r he attempts to control them by h i s contempt for t h e i r v u l g a r i t y i n contrast to h i s sexual and verbal p u r i t y . Their crudity andilspontaneity become hi s measure of t h e i r i n - t e l l i g e n c e and worth. His V i c t o r i a n sniff, showever, prevents him from seeing that the v u l g a r i t y represents the o f f i c e workers' re- f u s a l to be t o t a l l y absorbed into the grimness of the commercial enterprise. But winning the f o o t b a l l pools seems to j u s t i f y and confirm Clegg*s s u p e r i o r i t y . An ambitious young man, he calculates every move to improve his p o s i t i o n . Even his sexual desires are measured. They have been strongly repressed, and sex becomes for him a p r a c t i c a l issue rather than an essential emotional need. The a l i e n a t i o n of sex from love r e s u l t s i n Clegg's impotence, however, and pornographic pictures become his substitute f o r r e a l sexual intimacy. Thus h i s ideas of romantic love are yoked to impotence and f u r t i v e prurience, while beauty i s more r e a l when dead or distant than when i t i s a l i v e and close. By the time of manhood, he i s a victim of his own daydreams: 12 the romantic, dreaming Ferdinand imprisoned i n the hear£ of the earth-bound, pedestrian Clegg. And his alienated impotency has driven him to i d e a l i s e love and forget the earthiness of sex. His major r e l a t i o n s h i p i s with the b u t t e r f l i e s which give him pleasure and do not decay. But i t i s s t a t i c , for i t depends only upon his passion for c o l l e c t i o n and develops no further than h i s passive enjoyment of them. The question of morality remains unasked, f o r insects have no r i g h t s nor do they f i g h t back. Thus the d i s - torted oethic of possessive individualism i n the marketplace i s well i l l u s t r a t e d through Clegg's simple hobby. He has become the epitome of i n d u s t r i a l i s e d , marketplace man. Miranda i s supposed to be very d i f f e r e n t : l i b e r a l i n ethos, edu- cated, i n t e l l i g e n t , and bourgeois. As an a r t i s t , she should re- ject the mechanisation of the commercial society. She i s also a stock character, however, as she i s a potential member of Fowles' Ar i s t o s , the "few." As a member of the marketplace, however, she exhibits some of the same al i e n a t i o n as Clegg. She also conforms to his experience with the b u t t e r f l i e s i n several important ways. Like them, Miranda has no r e a l community: her parents are i n - compatible, and th e i r money and her scholarship enable her to be independent. She remains uncommitted to anyone, though her impris- onment forces her to re-examine her l i m i t e d friendship with an older a r t i s t , G.P. As a possessive i n d i v i d u a l i s t she bargains with her emotionsj Knowing that he has had many love a f f a i r s , she uses the age difference between herself and G.P. to be f l i r t a t i o u s , and then to expose him to a f r u s t r a t i n g sexual teasing. Under the pressure of 15 c a p t i v i t y , she begins to dream of him as a lover, and pretends to herself: "I mean I believe I could love him i n the other way, h i s g way}, now." Through separation, loneliness and fear, she disasso- ciates love from sex, and entertains the thought of random sex as a calculated exchange. In her a l i e n a t i o n , she deludes he r s e l f about r e l a t i o n s h i p . Miranda's s i t u a t i o n , of course, i s a l i e n a t i n g because i t i s t o t a l l y separate from society, and her struggles to return to her own milieu further alienate her from the only society that remains. Hercdespera'tUon leads her to panic; Clegg i s p i t i a b l e and dreadful, and any association with him would be unthinkable. Though she makes the connection between herself and the b u t t e r f l y , therefore, she i s unable to obey her insight that resistance i s f u t i l e ; Clegg w i l l only pin her down more f i r m l y , l e t i n a perverse way, she encour- ages him to dehumanise her and to treat her l i k e a b u t t e r f l y , even 9 though they both know that a l l h i s insects die. Even so, Clegg desperately wants her as a l i v e human being. It seems as though he wants to believe that she w i l l metamorphose him from a c h r y s a l i s into a b e a u t i f u l insect, or a frog into a prince. But because Miranda i s l u l l e d into an easy manipulation of him, she neither imagines his yearning, nor would she want to be involved i n h i s reincarnation. Instead, she rejects h i s own simple explanation of h i s motives, amd makes Clegg even more confused with her f r a n t i c e f f o r t s to escape. This i s clear i n her f i n a l , f a t a l error, when she attempts to in t e r e s t him i n alienated sex. Her act releases Clegg's perversion, for he can r a t i o n a l i s e h i s pornographic photographs of her i n terms of her immorality: " I t was no good, she had k i l l e d a l l the romance, she had made herself l i k e any other woman. I didn't respect her any 10 more, there was nothings l e f t to respect." This narrow view of romance c l e a r l y i l l u s t r a t e s the suffocating nature of marketplace intimacy corrupted by possession. Clegg can deal only with a Miranda who i s an object-for-sale, and w i l l i n g to l i v e through him. It was always she loving me and my c o l l e c t i o n , drawing and colouring them; working together i n a b e a u t i f u l modern house i n a big room with one of those huge glass windows; meetings there of the Bug Section, where instead of saying almost no- thing i n case I made mistakes, we were the popular host and hostess. 1 1 And i n spite of the presence of children, i t i s a dream without sex: MHothing nasty," he smirks. Requiring nothing of her except her presence, he confuses pride of ownership with love, and when she r e s i s t s that c l a s s i f i c a t i o n of her he often makes the p l a i n t i v e c r y , " I f only she would love me." For i n his world, love has come to mean that she w i l l conform to his perfect marketplace. Miranda, even though she i s a salesman, i s not as alienated as Clegg, and she cannot believe i n a love which i s a cool, almost emotionless understanding of a fundamental human passion: "In my dreams i t was always we looked into each other's 12 eyes one day and then we kissed and nothing was said u n t i l a f t e r . " "After" what i s not made c l e a r . In his romanticised, commercial world, love does not enrich a relationship, but i s used as a means of manipulating others. Thus he i s upset when his natural emdtions forge past his intentions to introduce his love at&the proper mo- ment, and he declares himself to her: "Suddenly I said, I love you. 15 1 3 **> I t ' s driven mes-mads'" k THissinafcirictive use of the word 'mad' rings true, though he loses the thread of i t s s i g n i f i c a n c e . The need to possess Miranda i s greater than intimations of insanity, for he has spent a l l his emotional energy on getting her close to him. His love i s an i n a r t i c u l a t e exchange of information, not a sharing of experience, of sex, of friendship,cor of more than a chaste k i s s . It i s a strange, i n h i b i t e d , repressed dream, a w i s h - f u l f i l l - ment; the fantasy of a sleeping Princess waiting f o r the Prince to waken her with a k i s s . This image Miranda also conforms to i n a l i m i t e d way, for she seems to be sleeping emotionally and i n t e l l e c t u a l l y . As an a r t i s t s searching f o r new means of expression, her self-conscious writing merely gropes a f t e r e f f e c t , for she i s e l i t i s t and cliche-ridden: she i s asleep to the excitement of the language. She also c l a s s i f i e s Ferdinand as a Caliban even though Clegg, unlike Caliban, i s kind and does not rape her. Miranda's categorisation of Clegg-as-Caliban helps her to overcome her fear of him, but i t also obscures h i s true s e l f . S i m i l a r l y Clegg d i s t o r t s Miranda within the c l i c h e of pure woman as wife and mother, and can then ignore her r e a l i t y . Her a l i e n a t i o n , however, shows most c l e a r l y i n her lack of sen- s i t i v i t y and perception. She cannot see beyond hi s unresponsiveness to her l i b e r a l and speculative thought to the p o s s i b i l i t y that he might be speaking the truth: "that with me i t was having. Having her was enough. Nothing needed doing. I just wanted to have her, 1 * f and safe at l a s t . " As an active person, the thought of being a passive piece of property i s naturally abhorrent to her, even though 1 6 i t i s equivalent to her desire to love G.P. i n h i s way. In truth, Miranda's middle-class, petit-bourgeois l i f e i s as barren of close r e l a t i o n s h i p as Clegg's childhood. Like him, she i s also t i t i l l a t e d by the p o s s i b i l i t i e s of l i f e , so that she projects G.P. as an abstraction rather than a l i v i n g , emotional human being. She watcihes him, always hateking away from primary involvement. She 1 5 i s e n t i t l e d to consider Clegg to be "absolutely sexless," yet her own sexual i n s t i n c t s f a i l her with both G.P. and Clegg. Miranda i s , however, established as a woman of p o t e n t i a l : she i s s o c i a l i s t , l i b e r a l and emancipated. She represents a l e s s a l i e n - ated future than that suggested by Clegg, so i t seems that the bur- den of new kind© of r e l a t i o n s h i p f a l l s on l i b e r a l i s m . Several choices are open to her: f i r s t to redeem Clegg through a v i s i o n of sex which would neccessarily include the insight that love and sex are inseparable. Second, she could use sex impersonally. Or she could accept Clegg's v i s i o n of romantic love, and t r y to humanise him from within that framework. A l l of these options f a i l her i n t h i s situaion, however, either because of her a l i e n a t i o n from under- standing love as wholeness, or because of Clegg's marketplace im- potence. Instead, she patronises him. The t e r r o r of the s i t u a t i o n i s r e l i e v e d occasionally by teasing; but almost every day ends i n a kind of hysteria. The impotent owner- ship of one person by another has created a fear which inev i t a b l y d i s t o r t s those human q u a l i t i e s e s s e n t i a l * f o r r e l a t i o n s h i p , such as t r u s t , f a i t h , and love. Clegg's obsession for Miranda also d i s - t o r t s his dreams about her, and his madness increases as he comes to 17 r e a l i s e that though he can possess her body, he can never possess her s p i r i t . But proximity does, a f t e r a l l , develop some kind of r e l a t i o n - ship: It' s weird. Uncanny. But there i s a sort of re l a t i o n s h i p between us. I make fun of him, I attack him a l l the time, but he senses when I$m " s o f t . " When he can dig back and not make me angry. So we s l i p into teasing states that are almost f r i e n d l y . I t ' s p a r t l y because iSm so lonely, i t ' s partly de- l i b e r a t e . . .,so i t ' s part weakness, and part cunning, and part charity. But there&s a mysterious fourth part I can't define. It can't be flsijendsh'ipji I loathe him. 1 6 In Fowles' philosophical world, each idea and emotion has i t s con- 1 7 trary pole producing a creative tension, so that Miranda's "fourth part" could be a f f e c t i o n . But her imprisonment obscures that p o s s i - b i l i t y . Once more, Clegg's possession of her dehumanises them both; they can only have a warder/prisoner re l a t i o n s h i p of suspicion and cunning. Thus both dream dreams, possessed by "shaping fantasies" which f a t a l l y alienate them from each other. And through Clegg's pernicious desire for possession, he loses h i s self-respect and allows Miranda to manipulate him i n the f u t i l e hope that she can be bought. As i t becomes increasingly clear that the marketplace re- lation s h i p i s not developing, therefore, he f e e l s more thwarted and vengeful, ready to believe the worst of her. Condemned to t h e i r own proud separateness and powerful feelings of uniqueness, they are fundamentally alienated from one another; nothing can be shared. No books read together; no music heard to- gether; and no art understood. They are reduced to a s o l i p s i s t i c exchange of private impressions. Even the major myths and symbols 18 of r e l i g i o u s experience, or of common humanity such as the sharing of food and h o s p i t a l i t y , are lacking. Nothing can release them from the inexorable nature of the "joke mousetrap."* This major insight of Ferdinand's hides the f i n a l irony that he—not M i r a n d a — i s the mouse. When death releases Miranda from the trap, Clegg cannot turn back. He believes that h i s i d e a l marketplace has f a i l e d not because of i t s inner weaknesses© but because she refused to cooperate. A l l his doubts are erased by h i s increasing i s o l a t i o n and h i s overpowering need to possess, and he enters the next t r a p ! With a di f f e r e n t kind of g i r l , he suggests, his dream w i l l come true. Even under the best of conditions an intimate r e l a t i o n s h i p i s d i f f i c u l t . Between two alienated, dehumanised people i t i s impose s i b l e . Within a possessive marketplace society, a l l relationships are cramped and distorted, for the physical j a i l i s accompanied by one of the mind and s p i r i t . Liberalism, when trapped within pos- sessive individualism, cannot i n t u i t the desperate dreams of the obsessed, de-class^ worker. And the worker i s s i m i l a r l y alienated from h i s community and thus h i s place i n society, seduced through the i l l u s i o n that money means possession and power. Though the reader's natural sympathy l i e s with Miranda, she shares some of the r e s p o n s i b i l i t y for the t e r r o r . They are both deluded i n t h e i r b e l i e f s about relati o n s h i p s , for they begin with and theories about the nature of love or emotional involvement. •Miranda's death, Clegg says, "was just l i k e a joke mouse-trap I once saw, the mouse just went on and things moved, i t couldn't ever turn back, but just on and on into cleverer and cleverer traps u n t i l the end." 1" 19 They are equally bankrupt of f e e l i n g because t h e i r possessive i n d i - vidualism creates a fundamental separation. Both Miranda and Fer- dinand treat each other as a property, or as objects, and thus there can be no r e l a t i o n s h i p . There i s not even sex. The a l i e n a t i o n and marketplace values which provide the basis for Fowles* environmental determinism i n The Colle c t o r cameeto maturity i n the Vic t o r i a n era. Fowles turned to that ethos i n h i s 19 t h i r d novel The French Lieutenant's Woman, which describes some of the parameters of science and of the marketplace which f i n a l l y af- fected personal r e l a t i o n s . The nineteenth century was a time of i n - creasing freedom from t r a d i t i o n a l oppressions of the natural en- vironment and s o c i a l r e s t r i c t i o n s , and a p a r a l l e l increase of expl o i - tations bydindustrialism and commercialism. The novel's characters are thus affected l e s s by the environment than by change, and there- fore by time and history. Individuals affected by the new conditions moved into new r e l a t i o n s with each other, and thus the novel i s also a consideration of the change i n intimacy. The novel concerns people who have not yet been d i r e c t l y touched by industrialism, though i t s tentacles are close. Some of the characters are part of the old t r a d i t i o n s of family and a r i s t o - cracy; others are creating a new t r a d i t i o n . A l l , sooner or l a t e r , are touched or controlled by the economic truth of society as a commercial enterprise. In the mid-nineteenth century, society s t i l l contained cmahyj members who were not salesmen, but the novel d e t a i l s how they a l l eventually succumbed. Thus i t i s an introduction to a novel such as The Collec t o r, i n which commercial considerations are 20 primary within r e l a t i o n s h i p s . The novel has a number of sub-themes of philosophical and c u l - t u r a l concern, and i s consequently rather complex. In p a r t i c u l a r , there i s a pervasive awareness of what J . H i l l i s M i l l e r terms The Disappearance of God. 2 0 Abandoned by the unifying p r i n c i p l e of God, M i l l e r argues, Victorians experienced a fragmentation of the l i t e r - ary perception. Fowles presents that fragmentation by shattering the world of a secure s c i e n t i f i c agnostic, as though i t were a palee- ontological specimen being crushed under the pressure of new earth movements. The disappearance of God i s dramatised through the d r a s t i c change that occurs i n the consciousness of Time; from the fixed per- iod of B i b l i c a l scholarship to that of evolutionary and geologically open-ended time. Charles Smithson r e a l i s e s that evolution was not v e r t i c a l , ascending to a perfection, but h horizontal. Time was the great f a l l a c y ; existence was without history, was always now, was always t h i s being caught i n the same fi e n d i s h machine. A l l those painted screens erected by man to shut out r e a l i t y — h i s t o r y , r e l i g i o n , duty, s o c i a l po- s i t i o n , a l l were i l l u s i o n s , mere opium fantasies. The e x i s t e n t i a l and Marxist implications of Smithson's thoughts are reinforced i n the novel by the sense of an inexorable force for change which destroys those who refuse or cannot adapt to i t . The novel's plot and s t y l e bear a s t r i k i n g resemblance to 22 George E l i o t ' s The M i l l on the F l o s s . Maggie T u l l i v e r i s the out- sider who i s attracted to and a t t r a c t s her cousin's s u i t o r , Stephen Guest. Three people interact i n a s i m i l a r way i n The French Lieu- tenant's Woman, though Fowles updates his Maggie. He rewards her with a new unfettered l i f e rather than shame and death, so that the 21 new Maggie, Sarah Woodruff, has a l i f e consistent with her character. E l i o t ' s novel i s complete i n i t s e l f , consistent with V i c t o r i a n con- ventions; while Fowles' resolution i s ambiguous and fre e . As i n The M i l l on the Floss, the woman has the sympathetic r o l e , though Fowles t e l l s h i s story from the masculine point of view. In th i s way, the strong sense of mystery surrounding and within Sarah can be preserved, since the man consistently f a i l s to comprehend her. The technique of l i m i t e d viewpoint, however, i s combined with the constant use of authorial intrusion (to ensure that the reader understands V i c t o r i a n mores and p r i n c i p l e s ) . The combination of nineteenth century authorial omniscience and twentieth century un- certainty p a r a l l e l s the philosophical position of the gradual over- throw of Vi c t o r i a n conviction of ri g h t by an increasing self-con- sciousness and philosophical i n s e c u r i t y . Fowles i l l u s t r a t e s these unsettling changes through the use of ambiguity, through refusing authorial omniscience, and through encouraging the reader to take part i n resolving the novel. By t h i s means, Fowles makes the reader conscious of the gains and losses of i n d i v i d u a l freedom from the bonds of t r a d i t i o n a l society. The immediate milieu of the novel i s England i n 1867, the pre- c i s e year i n which Marx began Das Kapital, and women made t h e i r f i r s t claim for the vote. It was also the time when the broader meaning of Darwin's theory of the Survival of the F i t t e s t became s i g n i f i c a n t i n the c u l t u r a l sphere.* The early introduction of t h i s •where i t helped to j u s t i f y that d i s t o r t i o n of the rel a t i o n s h i p be- tween a man, his work, and his community, which i s c h a r a c t e r i s t i c a l l y found i n i n d u s t r i a l capitalism. 2 2 theory i n the novel foreshadows a human batt l e f o r s u r v i v a l : Personal extinction Charles was aware o f — n o V i c t o r i a n could not be. But general extinction was as absent a concept from his mind that day...even though...he soon held a very con- crete example of i t i n his hand. And i t i s here found interwoveniwi-fh the b a t t l e of the sexes. The theory foreshadows more, as evolutionary data indicate forces beyond man's con t r o l . "Survival" contains an implication of war to the death, i n which a l l but the winner succumb. And " f i t t e s t " i s a term which finds physical adaptability more important than s p i r i t u a l or moral worth. In i t s V i c t o r i a n s e t t i n g , the sur v i v a l of the f i t t e s t matched neatly with a society of intensive i n d u s t r i - a l i s a t i o n and commercial enterprise. A l l these themes are, however, subsidiary (though essential) to the announced subject of emancipation. The novel's Marxian epigraph has a driving moral force: "Every emancipation i s a restoration of Zh the human world and of human relationships to man himself." The axiom i s humanist i n temper, and appears to be a denunciation of a l l that would deny man the essence of his humanness, such as class, eco- nomic and emotional exploitation, s o c i a l i n j u s t i c e , and a l i e n a t i o n . The irony of the novel, however, i s that although emancipation brings a powerful and exciting dignity and i n t e g r i t y to Sarah, the human relationships thereby created are l i m i t e d i n significance and f u l f i l l m e n t . In view of the epigraph, the l i m i t a t i o n s may indicate that Sarah's emancipation i s p a r t i a l . For Marx was committed to wholeness and community, and Sarah breaks one man's community i n order to f i n d her own. Her emancipation i s therefore not unfettered; 23 i t i s t i e d to an i s o l a t i o n associated with i n d i v i d u a l freedom. In common with The Collector, relationships are also affected by possession and possessive individualism. There i s the same mad- ness of desire, and the same consideration of people as property, but possessive individualism i s at f i r s t more subtle. Eventually, however, i t s influence i s f e l t i n a scene of alienated sex "without loving communion." (This i s contrasted with a young lower class couple who accept sex as an i n t r i n s i c part of t h e i r loving intimacy.) When sex i s used i n order to gain emancipation, possessive i n d i v i - dualism i s e x p l i c i t and triumphant. I t prevents intimacy as surely as Clegg's impotent possession. The novel begins with a v i v i d vignette of a t r a d i t i o n a l r e - lationship i n the presence of intimations of change: the engaged couple, Charles Smithson and Ernestina Freeman are f i r s t disquieted and then haunted by the presence and absolute silence of Sarah. As a minor a r i s t o c r a t , Charles i s self-possessed and stands foursquare at the centre of the old but comfortable world of reason and r a t i o n a l decision. His money comes from land, and he has minimal and abhor- rent contact with the world of commerce and industry. He also s t i l l belongs to a s o c i a l group which has not been alienated from power. Being a r a t i o n a l man, however, he i s vulnerable to i r r a t i o n a l forces. Governess Sarah Woodruff, on the other hand, has "the i n s t i n c - 25 tual profundity of i n s i g h t , " a quali t y which pilaces her at the centre of the new world; a world of fresh, creative energies and un- precedented choices. She comes from a family of dispossessed yeomen and i s now alone, without t i e s or r e s p o n s i b i l i t i e s to others. And 24 Ernestina, daughter of a nouveau riche, s o c i a l climbing tradesman, i s supremely i n d i f f e r e n t to both worlds because of the f e l t power of money. She i s already aware that her wealth giver her power over people and things, and she i s consequently careless to other people's feelings and needs. Together the three form the hoary motif of the love t r i a n g l e . Customarily i t s tensions are resolved by one woman pai r i n g up with one man, but i n t h i s story, the man i s f i n a l l y discarded by bothe women. In a magazine a r t i c l e , Fowles declares: My female characters tend to dominate the male. I see man as a kind of a r t i f i c e and woman as a kind of r e a l i t y . The one i s cold idea, the other i s warm f a c t . Daedalus faces Venus and Venus must win. 2° The phrase tEat "Venus must win" has an implication of b a t t l e / winner/loser which i s deadly f o r rel a t i o n s h i p , p a r t i c u l a r l y i n - timacy.* When informed by the Darwinian theory, the sentiment be- comes an omen that the loser w i l l o s s i f y i nto a l i v i n g f o s s i l . There i s thus no hope of redemption, or of a f i n a l peace of an Oedipus.* * Within rel a t i o n s h i p , a b a t t l e for s u r v i v a l encourages q u a l i - t i e s of aggression and possessiveness, and emphasises c o n f l i c t rather than co-operation. The r e c i p r o c a l nature of re l a t i o n s h i p b *Marx held that "Man's need for a partner i n the sexual re l a t i o n s h i p makes his own s a t i s f a c t i o n dependent upon another person's s a t i s - f a c t i o n . By d e f i n i t i o n , sexual r e l a t i o n s are r e c i p r o c a l . I f they are u n i l a t e r a l they cease to be a rel a t i o n s h i p , degrading the other person to the status of a mere object, rather than a co-equal subject." *"These comments were brought out i n a conversation with Assoc. Prof. R. Frank, English Dept., Oregon State University, C o r v a l l i s , Oregon, U.S.A. 25 becomes impossible, for the loser has to surrender himself to the whim of the v i c t o r . Above a l l , the b a t t l e may be a r b i t r a r y i n i t s selection of protagonists. Charles i s intermittently reminded that paleontology i s a record of dead species which succumbed through f a i l u r e to adapt to or escape from changing conditions. Like George Bernard 0Shaw's l i f e force, the evolutionary process i s i n e v i t a b l e — as i s Sarah's r e j e c t i o n of Charles. His reaction to the developing evolutionary pattern i s s i g n i f i c a n t : Some t e r r i b l e perversion of human sexual destiny had begun; he was no more than a f o o t s o l d i e r , a pawn i n a f a r vaster b a t t l e ; and l i k e a l l b a t t l e s i t was not about love, but about possession and territory.§" The development of close r e l a t i o n s h i p i s subject to the same external pressures of evolutionary time* and the far-reaching implications of the Darwinian struggle. And s p e c i f i c a l l y , i t depends upon the char- acter of the women; for they have not only the warmth of Venusian sexual r e a l i t y , but also Eaedalian contrivings and subtlety. In the face of t h e i r power, Charles i s an emotional innocent, for he consider himself to be aDman of reason.** Informed by native wit, t h e i r i n t u i t i v e strength makes him into a straw man, a stereotype of the landowning a r i s t o c r a t clashing head-on with the New Woman. His ancestry and i n c l i n a t i o n make him i n f l e x i b l e against the onslaught of the future. But he i s not b l i n d to the changes •Matthew Arnold, for example, f e l t "that the f a i l u r e of love i n these bad times without God i s caused by the implacable flow of time. Time bears the lovers apart."29 * * I t i s curious that Fowles should stereotype men and women as "cold idea" and "warm f a c t . " The close d e f i n i t i o n of personality by sex i s surely a l i m i t i n g p r i n c i p l e , and Fowles expands upon i t i n The Aristos without lessening my unease. 26 occurring i n the society, and has vague feelings of unease, "a general sentiment of dislocated purposes" and "of obscure defeat"^ 0 as though aware that h i s p a r t i c u l a r culture i s doomed. Although independently wealthy, Charles i s not a possessive i n - d i v i d u a l i s t . He i s §part©6f&a&!fcagger s o c i a l whole" and assumes his proper place between past and future, confident of h i s position i n space and time. His f a i l u r e to recognise and deal with the ambition of his valet Sam to be part of the new commercial world underlines h i s d i f f e r e n t kind of individualism. And although he sees his mar- riage to Ernestina as a form of exchange, (his t i t l e for her money), t h i s kind of bargaining was common for centuries within the a r i s t o - cracy, and i s not possessive. In contrast to Charles, both women are strong^- s e l f - w i l l e d , and responsive to the impulse for change. Their a b i l i t y to bend, to com- promise, and to persuade others to t h e i r w i l l both subtly and d i r - e c t l y i s marked. Sarah rides the forces of change, and uses Charles as the means to her end; and,Sas part of the new commercialism, Er- nestina needs a coronet to prove herself to be a legitimate successor to the aristocracy. Though central to the story and to the two women, Charles i s peripheral to t h e i r resolutions: he i s discarded as an a r t i f a c t of a defeated s o c i a l force. Because his attachment to the old milieu of s o c i a l relationships makes him refuse the dehumanising nature of the marketplace, he i s open to exploitation and manipulation. The two women welcome the changing s o c i a l forces, and t h e i r possessive individualism i s made very clear both i n t h e i r s o c i a l anddin t h e i r sexual r e l a t i o n s with Charles. Thus he i s taken very much by sur- 27 prise when Ernestina reacts so sharply to his confession of love for Sarah* She f e e l s that she has been cheated of her bargain, f o r i f Charles has possession of her body, he also owns her love. Thus her assumptions about intimacy are commercial and tinged with roman- tici s m ; but Charles' assumptions are no l e s s suspect. Bound by t r a - d i t i o n a l s o c i a l conventions, h i s understanding of intimacy i s very l i m i t e d . Marriage i n an arrangement of convenience glossed with declarations of love; and l i k e most Victorians, he i s uncomfortable with passion. Yet, because he i s t i t i l l a t e d by i t s p o s s i b i l i t i e s , he becomes vulnerable to Sarah. Sarah i s a new phenomenon, for she i s responsible only to and for herself rather than to society or to another person. She i s pre- sented as a woman of mystery, free of convention, family and friends, and her melancholy appeals to Charles' old-fashioned chivalry be- cause i t contains an i m p l i c i t plea for help. As s woman of i n t e l l - ectual and emotional powers, she i n s t i n c t i v e l y accords with Matthew 31 Arnold's insight that "True piety i s acting what one knows." Clear l y , she i s her own' woman, and conforms to an early image of a possessive i n d i v i d u a l i s t . Forced into the marketplace on the death of her father, she has few s k i l l s that are wanted. In exchange for the job of governess, she loses her in d i v i d u a l freedom, but seizes the f i r s t opportunity, provided by the French lieutenant, to regain i t . That i s , she i n s t i n c t i v e l y struggles to return her labour to so herself, so that whether or not Varguennes becomes her lover i s ir r e l e v a n t . She soon recognises that he i s not her meams to free- dom, and she returns to Lyme determined to use that experience to 28 try again. Perhaps because r e c i p r o c a l r e l a t i o n s demands equality between the participants, Sarah refuses the Marxian imperative. She and Charles come together with "unilateral"needs, and intimacy f a i l s to develop. For the same reason she also r e j e c t s a l l other r e l a t i o n s - ships within the contemporary s o c i a l f a b r i c and marketplace—her f i r s t need i s to be independent. IsEnsiinctively, for example, she converts intimacy into the language of commerce so that marriage becomes an exchange of property and thus a burden on her in d i v i d u a l needs. But they do reach an understanding of equality, though i t remains unspoken: She smiled....It lay claim to a f a r profounder understanding, acknowledgement of that awkward equality melting into proxi- mity than had been consciously admitted....Charles...was ex- cit e d , i n some way too obscure and general to be c a l l e d sexual, to the roots of his being.32 To Charles, Sarah promises a great deal through that smile, including a deep intimacy which holds the hint of receprocal r e l a t i o n s . It also gives the clue to Charles's obsession with her, f o r she l i b e r - ates long-repressed forces i n his soul. And i t i s the reader's f i r s t intimation of the powerful i r r a t i o n a l forces by which Charles w i l l be carried away, and through which Sarah w i l l be emancipated. Sarah i s thus a dangerous woman i n a tradition-bound, often h y p o c r i t i c a l society. To Ernerstina she represents the unknown and heterodox, and a freedom to be herself which i s new and suspect; while to the naive Charles whe i s the challenge of the enigma:^ even of romance: Sarah's was an unforgettable face, and a tragic face. Its 29 sorrow welled out of i t as purely, naturally and unstoppably as water out of a woodland spring. There was no a r t i f i c e there, no hypocrisy, no hysteria, no mask; and above a l l , no sign of madness.33 The descriptive nouns are a l l revealing, for they t y p i f y the standard p o r t r a i t of V i c t o r i a n femininity, and make Sarah an o r i g i n a l . Caught up with her mystery, Charles begins to d r i f t away from reason, and to f l o a t on his emotions. His engagement to Ernestina then begins 3k to p a l l . Ernestina i s too s o c i a l l y insecure to "act what she knows" u n t i l she i s thwarted i n her desires, and then she becomes a shrew. Representative of the V i c t o r i a n ethos, Ernestina Freeman i s neither free nor earnest, for she i s bound i n f i l i a l duty to her protective father, who treats her as a precious commodity. She i s a possession to be bought and sold i n marriage, as though her father were an auctioneer. As an heiress of commerce, she under- stands that her possessions w i l l enable her to own Charles. Like Sarah, therefore, Ernestina i s a possessive i n d i v i d u a l ^ though i n a di f f e r e n t way: she owns herself only through her father. Money i s her basis for power; i t s mere promise i s s u f f i c i e n t to gain control over others. And being a commodity herself, she c l e a r l y understands® the marketplace value of relati o n s h i p s , and every person around her becomes a commodity which can be bargained f o r . To hide t h i s commercial approach to marriage, however, Ernest- ina romanticises love and sex, although they too have an economic edge. Marriage i s an enterprise to gain her own household and s o c i a l position, while love i s demoted to f l i r t a t i o n , and sex to a t i t i l l a - 30 t i o n of the senses. Relationships thus become connections between objects, and intimacy never becomes a bond between sexual equals. She bides her time, playing the c h i l d to Charles' condescending 35 older man: "Sweet c h i l d . You w i l l always be that to me," he murmurs a f t e r a t i f f . As a consequence, i t embarrasses him to f e e l sexual s t i r r i n g s while i n her company.^ The stereotype of engaged couples precludes any discussion about sex, so that Sarah's sensu- a l i t y appears increasingly desirable to Charles. The engagement i s conventional, including even the blushing maiden, so that Ernestina f a i n t s into Charles* arms at the merest hint of emotion. Such use- f u l reflexes show that she i s playing the proper r o l e , for l a t e r scenes indicate that she stays conscious whatever the provocation when i t i s necessary. But they share l i t t l e : she leaves him to his s c i e n t i f i c hobby and he indulges her whims for domestic d e t a i l s without p a r t i c i p a t i n g i n the decisions. Ernestina would have sym- pathised with George E l i o t ' s Mrs. Glegg about a woman's responsi- b i l i t i e s : The economising of a gardener's wages might perhaps have i n - duced Mrs Glegg to wink at t h i s f o l l y of her husband's garden- ing i f i t were possible for a healthy female mind even to simu- l a t e respect for a husband's hobby. Her rel a t i o n s h i p with Charles seems to hide more than i t re- veals, perhaps because the contractual nature of t h e i r engagement does not include the imperative of sharing t h e i r inmost thoughts and hopes. Thus i t i s a l i m i t e d and l i m i t i n g experience. In contrast, Sarah offers Charles a t a n t a l i s i n g p o s s i b i l i t y of a greater honesty and openness, and even an enhanced f e e l i n g of v i t a l i t y . Yet she i s 3<t also dangerously ambiguous: Her face "seemed both to envelop and reject him; as i f he was a figure i n a dream, both standing s t i l l Charles becomes increasingly l e s s able to control h i s emotions. She evokes too many new impressions which he cannot understand: what had on occasion struck him before as a presumption of i n t e l l e c t u a l equality (therefore a suspect resentment against man) was l e s s an equality than a proximity...,an intimacy of thought and f e e l i n g hitherto unimaginable to him i n the coni text of a rel a t i o n s h i p with a woman.3̂ 9 When added to thoughts of Madame Bovary, such intimacy launches Charles on a sea of new emotions. The growing friendship i s not bound by s o c i a l l i m i t s , or a contract between salesmen, but as an old-fashioned i n d i v i d u a l i s t he hopes that i t w i l l lead them into a new form of re l a t i o n s h i p . But he underestimates her kind of power. She made him aware of a deprivation. His future had always seemed to him of vast p o t e n t i a l ^ and now suddenly i t was a fixed voyage to a known pla c e . ^ u The words "fixed voyage to a known place" are a warning and a fore- shadowing, for the Darwinian theory concerns a d a p t a b i l i t y . And as surv i v a l applies to a whole species, the hint of extinction neces- s a r i l y extends to a l l amateur gentleman n a t u r a l i s t s l i k e Charles, whose c a p i t a l i s i n land, t h e i r hereditary t i t l e s , and r a t i o n a l d i s - course. Midway through the novel, therefore, Charles faces a choice: he can pursue the promise of emotional and sexual f u l f i l l m e n t or he can conclude a marketplace agreement, materially possessive and safe. He cannot explore a t h i r d a l t e r n a t i v e , the relationship between hi s and yet always receding ," 3 8 i h L U S , i n spite of the pr o p r i e t i e s , 32 valet Sam and Mrs. Tranter's maid Mary. As lower class people whose l i v e s have only been toughed externally by the commercial society, they have an intimacy which is, open, honest and tender. Sex i s accepted as part of the re l a t i o n s h i p because sexual desires have not yet been repressed i n t h i s class as they have i n the bourgeoisie. Their l i a i s o n i s thus f u l f i l l i n g for them both. The new movement of capi- t a l i s making i t s f i r s t inroads into Sam's character, however, for he looks out f o r his own advantage f i r s t , and w i l l cheat on h i s em- ployer i f necessary. Trapped within his rationalism, Charles becomes more obsessed with Sarah: "I f e e l l i k e a man possessed against h i s w i l l — a g a i n s t a l l that i s better i n his character." The r a t i o n a l i t y permits the obsession to subvert his w i l l while the clandestine nature of the a l l i a n c e , with i t s strong sexual undercurrent, helps to alienate his passion from the other elements of love. Sarah can raanipulateythis obsession, f o r Charles has no reference point or past experience that would enable him to control h i s increasing sexual desire and l u s t . In order to r a t i o n a l i s e h i s emotions, and against h i s best judgement, he i s driven to separate Sarah from acceptable society and to think of her as a "loose" woman. His l a t e r adventure with the pr o s t i t u t e , however, shows how f a l s e a position that i s for him. His i n t e r n a l c o n f l i c t i s notoresolved u n t i l a f t e r h i s l u s t has been eatisfied,uand he r e a l i s e s that love i s a wholeness, but the rape vio l a t e s his growing emotional bond with Sarah. The consummation scene i n Exeter i s very powerful, but con- tains much ambiguity which can be resolved only through explanations 33 of i r r a t i o n a l forces. Sarah's story about the French lieutenant and her seduction of Charles are both b u i l t upon l i e s which seem unneces- sary, though they bring Charles to the heat of his passion. Per- haps, l i k e the lodgepole pine seed, which i s said to need the great heat of a forest f i r e to bring i t to germination, Sarah needs the f i r e of passion to germinate her need for emancipation and indepen- dence. In a profound sense, she bargains her v i r g i n i t y for her freedom, for the rape provides the f i n a l l i n k . Sarah enters relationships, therefore, i n order to exploit t h e i r potential to further her emancipation. Thus the mystery sur- rounding her ' a f f a i r ' with Varguennes, followed by her deliberate choice of solitude whether on the Cob or the U n d e r c l i f f , spins the f i r s t threads of the web which snares Charles. Change i n her l i f e thus becomes an opportunity to be seized and used, and even s u f f e r - ing i s proudly accepted as part of her " f a t e , " as though she knows that loss accompanies every gain. By "acting what one knows," Sarah does not v i o l a t e her personhood when she uses events to become emancipated. Even love i s used as a means to t h i s end, f o r she i n - t e n s i f i e s her relationship with Charles, and then deliberately re^© jects marriage. She thereby regains the right to herself as her own property. Emancipation for Sarah therefore destroys a pot e n t i a l for intimate r e l a t i o n s h i p . It also means the d e f i n i t i o n of s e l f as property: "freedom from dependence upon the w i l l s of others." A love re l a t i o n s h i p would change her, she f e e l s , and make her less than complete i n her- s e l f . 34 I am not to be understood even by myself. And I can't t e l l you why, but I believe my happiness depends on my not under- standing. .. .But i t i s not you I fear. It i s your love for mes* I know only too well that nothing remains sacrosanct t h e r e . ^ She has found a new equilibrium, founded upon, mystery and even am- biguity, which can only be enjoyed i n solitude. Love disturbs the equation: I do not want to share my l i f e . I wish to be what I am, not what a husband, however, kind, however indulgent, must expect This form of self-possession i s more than an echo of C.B. MacPherson possessive individualism, for Sarah e x p l i c i t l y r e j e c t s change which i s suggested by others. Any loss of her personhood and central my- stery are thus unacceptable. Like his l i f e , Charles' form of possession i s t r a d i t i o n a l . He desires both to own Sarah, and to be owned, "to possess her, to melt into her, to burn, to burn to ashes on that body and i n those eyes." But a new Sarah i s the phoenix that r i s e s from his ashes (for he i s an exemplar of the e x i s t e n t i a l i s t axiom "that the desire to hold and the desire to enjoy are mutually destructive." "0. Unable to understand Sarah's new self-hood, and emotionally out raged that she prefers her "melancholy" to happiness with him, Charles interprets her s e l f - s u f f i c i e n c y as a mirror image of h i s own possessiveness: He sought her eyes for some evidence of her r e a l intentions, and found only a s p i r i t prepared to s a c r i f i c e everything but i t s e l f . . . i n order to save i t s own integrity....And there he saw his own superiority to her...of an a b i l i t y to give that was also an i n a b i l i t y to compromise. She could give only to possess; and to possess him...to possess him was not enough.46 This l i m i t e d perception provides Charles with the germ of a new s e l f me to become 35 respect. Based on the insight that t h i s love i s superior to her emancipation, he i n s t i n c t i v e l y grasps a p r i n c i p l e that sharing one- s e l f with another i s the supreme experience of l i f e . Sarah's new individualism i s sel f - o r i e n t e d , property-conscious, and possessive, and changing values i n the society make those q u a l i t i e s dominant. Thenceforwardvaall t r a d i t i o n a l customs become c u r i o s i t i e s of a n t i - quarian i n t e r e s t , f o r , l i k e Charles, they have l o s t the b a t t l e f o r s u r v i v a l : he i s the "ammonite stranded i n a drought." Through i t s sexual impact, i t s ambiguity and passion, Sarah and Charles' relationship has s i g n i f i c a n t l y changed t h e i r l i v e s . But i t s conclusion poses two issues: f i r s t , that intimate re l a t i o n s h i p w i l l permit no mystery, no solitude, no independence of soul, while the struggle to r e t a i n i n d i v i d u a l i t y , within the Darwinian model, i i s transmuted into one of possession, t e r r i t o r y , and thus power. Second, that intimate relationships have no place i n a world of i n - d u s t r i a l capitalism. Where relationship i s seen as a "dependence upon the w i l l of others," intimacy i s impossible. A marriage between the two worlds of eighteenth century r a t i o n - alism and nineteenth century individualism, therefore, would have been foredoomed to a competitive struggle, with the triumph of new s o c i a l patterns conforming with new concerns. Without love and re- lationship, however, Charles and Sarah remain celibate, and thus symbolically s t e r i l e , foregoing the joys and sorrows of profound emotional involvement with another person. In the world of t h i s novel, therefore, relationships i n the emerging society have been reduced to a Darwinian c o n f l i c t , a battle for power and possession. 36 Emancipation has become possessive individualism. Yet there remains the memory of Sam and Mary whose personal r e l a t i o n s h i p i s not com- p e t i t i v e : they struggle i n the world of business, but they come close to achieving the unity described by de Chardiiu* Sarah's r e f u s a l to consider marriage i s also consistent with Fowles' hypothesis of male and female p r i n c i p l e s . As Eve, she opg poses the Adam of " s e l f i s h tyranny," of "hatred of change" and "s t a s i s or conservatism," who can be changed only through c o n f l i c t and b a t t l e . Women, as the agents of change, or "innovation and ex- periment, and fresh d e f i n i t i o n s , aims, modes of f e e l i n g " and i'tole- rance," must i n f a c t overcome the male p r i n c i p l e , and become emanci- 47 pated from i t . Darwin's theory of the sur v i v a l of the f i t t e s t i s thus a l o g i c a l vehicle for Fowles' ideas. And a rel a t i o n s h i p of equals, one assumes, cannot occur u n t i l both men and women are Eves or Eve-men. Yet Charles i s f i n a l l y closer to Fowles* idea of a love relationship than Sarah. She emancipates herself from the pa t r i a r c h a l , r i g i d V i ctorian society, but she does not represent a trend. For she associates herself with the Pre-Raphaelites who freed the emotions from V i c - t o r i a n repression, but whose dedication to craftsmanship and the machineles6 age was rejected. In t h e i r own way, the Pre-Raphaelites became "ammonites" also. Her association with the a r t i s t s , however, indicates authorial approval of her l i b e r a t i o n , for they were not r-—n «- -v—' •Even here, however, there i s a strong implication that commercial- ism i s encroaching upon t h e i r intimacy; as a symbol of t h e i r love, Mary always wears the brooch with which Sam betrays Charles. Sam's business future i s more important than Charles' happiness. 37 alienated from the past. Yet because they had no v i s i o n for the future, Sarah's emancipation i s also incomplete. Though breaking her own and Charles' community, therefore, she i s unable to "restore human rela t i o n s h i p to man himself." By returning to the V i c t o r i a n era a f t e r writing The Collector, Fowles dramatises that a serious change i n society has taken place. Emancipation has given Sarah a strong independence, self-confidence, and r e a l i s e d her p o t e n t i a l , yet there i s no love nor i n t e l l e c t u a l commitment i n her p o r t r a i t . And within a century, that l i b e r a t i o n decayed to Miranda's flabbiness of thought and Clegg's envy and im- potent possession. Sarah's independence of s p i r i t was grounded i n a strong, though i n t u i t i v e , r e l i g i o u s b e l i e f , and she has the po- t e n t i a l to love. No such p o s s i b i l i t y exists i n The C o l l e c t o r . There has been a f a i l u r e to love, the relinquishment pf r e l i - gious conviction, and a loss of i n t e l l e c t u a l rigour and of i n t u i - t i o n . Above a l l , Sarah's need to be herself has degenerated into a conviction of uniqueness which precludes community and r e l a t i o n s h i p . The Darwinian b a t t l e , seen as the struggle for s u r v i v a l inherent within i n d u s t r i a l capitalism, has created a society i n which com- p e t i t i o n has become the great l e v e l l e r , smothering a l l c r e a t i v i t y . The e f f o r t to survive has absorbed a l l available energy, and has generated a climate i n which Fowles' "giving without return" i s impractical, and tantamount to losing the game. Thus i t can be said that capitalism substituted possessive i n - dividualism f o r community; while sex begins as "intercourse without loving communion...,becomes fo r n i c a t i o n as property, and ends with 38 possession as impotences1" "Fowles has explored that progression backwards: from impotent possession (The Collector) to individualism as sexual i s o l a t i o n (The French Lieutenant 1s Woman)." Boris Lessing begins by exploring ali e n a t i o n , which denies Marx's truth about sex, and her voyage 48 brings her close to madness. 39 Doris Lessing DSrissLessing's heroines are Sarah's s p i r i t u a l descendants who l i v e i n a society which has become more strongly alienated and mar- ketplace oriented. These women are strong, middle-class i n d i v i d u a l - i s t s who are conscious of the alie n a t i n g and destructive q u a l i t i e s of modern capitalism, and are t r y i n g to f i n d a way of staying sane and human. They are p o l i t i c a l l y conscious, and determined to avoid holding a dehumanising job while f i e r c e l y defending t h e i r r i g h t to remain free of others—emotionally, i n t e l l e c t u a l l y , and ph y s i c a l l y . As a committed s o c i a l i s t , Lessing saturates her writing with p o l i t i c s which gives i t a powerful contemporaneity. Her women char- acters tend to be unconventional and creativle, f i g h t i n g for t h e i r emotional s u r v i v a l more energetically than the men, almost a l l of whom are emotionally d e b i l i t a t e d by a dehumanising and emasculating economic system. (Fowles' Adam has ceased to exist.) They are often weak, le s s s e n s i t i v e , more competitive and more dependent upon things f or seitff-def initionothan tha women. As Anna phrases i t i n The Golden Notebook, " r e a l min" who are self-possessed and emotionally whole are very scarce, and force women to fi g h t to have t h e i r men return to strength and dominion. As D.Hi Lawrence recognises, how- 2 ever, that struggle i s f u t i l e , and Anna comes to recognise the truth of h i s i n s i g h t . Reciprocal relationships are thus rare i n the Lessing canon, as i s love. For, as M i l t says i n The Golden Notebook: "Love i s too d i f f i c u l t . " In a society of commercial enterprise, the love of ko "other-orientation" i n t e r f e r e s with the l o g i c of the marketplace. Thus Lessing'^s women i s o l a t e t h e i r intimate relationships as much as possible from the outside world, as though aware that any con- tact with the alienated society might crumble the intimacy. This seclusion of relationships from other people, however, i s also d i s - t o r t i n g ; as i s the emphasis on the senses while neglecting the i n t e l - l e c t . Indeed, for Anna Wulf, the desperate need to maintain the d e f i n i t i o n of herself as a woman deeply i n love with a r e a l man brings her to compromise part of her character. Her S o c i a l i s t ideology provides Lessing with a trenchant c r i - t i c a l t o o l to assess contemporary western society. Through irony, she analyses the dehumanising q u a l i t i e s of the c a p i t a l i s t system and of the bureaucratisation of s o c i a l i s t aims. Both have s i m i l a r ef- fects on people, an issue which i s developed i n Lessing's play, Each his own Wilderness,^ which deals with the theme of personal a l i e n a - t i o n . For even within the family, the play asserts, individuals are unwilling to be beholden to others. Instead they are held withing the armour of t h e i r own private desperation. F u l f i l l m e n t i s found either through f r a n t i c a c t i v i t i e s on behalf of other people, or through the transfer of commitment to things. Relationship no longer e x i s t s . Such extreme ali e n a t i o n i s muted i n The Golden Notebook, though Anna Wulf, i t s narrator, asserts that the essence of her l i f e i s incommunicable; for experience changes subtly when i t i s converted into thoughts, words, and phrases. An event, she says, i s changed by what ends i t because i t becomes objective and thence f a l s e . By 41 separating experience and r e f l e c t i o n she re j e c t s Wordsworthian ro'ji raanticism and mirrors the deep philosophical s p l i t , the di s s o c i a t i o n of s e n s i b i l i t i e s she f e e l s . The r e s u l t i n g loss of wholeness prompts herlto search for a re l a t i o n s h i p with a r e a l man which w i l l heal her soul). In the past, she has unsuccessfully t r i e d to cure i t through emigrating to A f r i c a , or by committing herself to r a d i c a l p o l i t i c s . Unity evades her i n spite of her strong e f f o r t s , because the s p l i t a f f e c t s the whole of society. But Anna's desire for close r e l a t i o n s h i p , "to love a man," de- ludes her. Contrary to her hope, her love i s not enough to carry a relationship alone, nor can she exclude the alien a t i n g world and possess the rela t i o n s h i p for h e r s e l f . When she i s i n love and i s loved, she fe e l s she can be u n i f i e d and complete, "manufacturing happiness l i k e molasses" out of those moments. She s t r i v e s to a- chieve de Chardin's insight: to possess herself when " l o s t i n the other," yet she f a i l s because her other-orientation i s flawed. Her possessive individualism r e s u l t s i n al i e n a t i o n just as i t does i n The French Lieutenant's Woman. Ir o n i c a l l y aware of her plight as a contemporary person, Anna c a l l s herself a "free woman." Divorcedfawd emancipated from t r a d i - t i o n a l attitudes about woman's sexual role,cshe i s also f i n a n c i a l l y independent with the r o y a l t i e s from her novel. She i s thus free from commercial pressures. Her freedom, however, i s li m i t e d for her en- vironmentally as a mother responsible for a c h i l d ; and emotionally and i n t e l l e c t u a l l y by her relationships with other people. She also finds i t d i f f i c u l t to escape from the commercial value imposed on her l i b e r t y , and from the r e s t r i c t i o n s and expectations placed on women i n a man's world. As a r e s u l t , freedom often appears to be more i l l u s o r y than r e a l . This i s also true within her re l a t i o n s h i p s . In one of her moments of frustrated i n s i g h t , Anna sees that she can spend a l l afternoon sharing a "what's-wrong-with-men" bitching session with her frien d and fellow free woman Molly, yet at i t s con- clusion know that there would be a sudden resentment, a rancour—because a f t e r a l l , our r e a l l o y a l t i e s are always to men, and not to women....She thought: I want to be done with i t a l l , f i n ished with the men vs women business, a l l the complaints and the reproaches and the be- trayals.^" Once more, Anna i s confused. Her lo y a l t y to men would seem to com- promise her freedom u n t i l i t becomes clear that she needs a man— not for the relationship i t s e l f — b u t i n whom to lose her alienated s e l f and i n d i v i d u a l i t y . However, she i s unable to lose herself " i n the other," and so i r o n i c a l l y , i t i s her i n d i v i d u a l i t y , not de Char- din's self-possession, which i s greatest i n the middle of an a f f a i r . She i s free i n the commercial world, however, to refuse to par- t i c i p a t e i n a dishonest marketplace morality i n which the rights to her novel are bought, only to be altered beyond recognition. The r e f u s a l , however, becomes part of her "writer's block," so that for years she writes only for herself i n her four, then f i v e notebooks. E s s e n t i a l l y , as Molly's son Tommy Portraain and then her frien d Saul Green come to f e e l , t h i s i s a kind of arrogance, for she considers her fragmented l i f e to be too personal and chaotic to be of v i c a r - ious help to others. The yearning to be whole leads to a longing for the past, a time when i t seemed that some men l i v e d by a whole, 43 organic philosophy, and could order t h e i r l i v e s by i t . Her theory of the modern novel reflectsfcher pain: The novel has become a function of the fragmented society, the fragmented consciousness. Human beings are so divided, are be- coming more and more divided, and more subdivided i n themselves, r e f l e c t i n g the world, that they reach out desperately, not kknowing they do, for information about groups....It i s a b l i n d groping out for t h e i r own wholeness!...Yet I am incapable of writing the only kind of novel which int e r e s t s me: a book pow- ered with an i n t e l l e c t u a l or moral passion strong enough to cre- ate a new.way of looking at l i f e . I t i s because I am too diffused.5 Her theory however, ignores the p o s s i b i l i t y that people who are frag- mented may be unable to pattern t h e i r l i v e s a f t e r books which create order. It may be that the very diffuseness of the contemporary no- ve l , and the searching out for information, w i l l help people: to understand once more that they are united by being human?,: just as Anna dreams of being an Algerian s o l d i e r , a Chinese peasant, and an e v i l old man. Like Anna, t h i s novel i s "fragmented" and "diffused"; i t i n - corporates large chunks of information, ideas, friendships, feelings, a l l contained i n or rather scattered through four d i f f e r e n t l y c o l - oured notebooks which do indeed lead to a kind of unity and a new way of looking ajfe l i f e . The notebooks are Anna's personal prism through which she records her past. Between excerpts from the note- books, however, are sections c a l l e d "Free Women" which regularly force the reader away from the completed past into the unordered present. The structure presumes that the mind moves f l u i d l y be- tween aspects of time, and so i t i s the reader who must try and make a coherent whole, because the narrator cannot. The r e s u l t i n g story i s not always easy to follow, f o r the r e a l , or imagined, or i l l u s o r y elements of Anna's l i f e combine and separ- ate as though obscured&y mists on a seashore, driven by unseen and unfelt a i r currents. This technique has the e f f e c t of involving the reader very closely i n order to interpret and make sense of the d i f f e r e n t versions of the same incident. Thus Anna confronts her readers with a very potent image of herself, r e a l and imagined, con- crete and abstract. And she does "create a new way of looking at l i f e " which can be unifying, even though her search for unity creates ambiguities between " f a c t " and " f i c t i o n " which confuse the reader, and which inev i t a b l y a f f e c t the nature of her intimate re- l a t i o n s h i p s . Given the marketplace society and i t s a l i e n a t i n g e f f e c t s , i t should not be surprising that i n spite of her s e l f - i r o n y , courage, i n t e l l e c t , and awareness of emotional need, Anna cannot f i n d a man to share her v i s i o n of love. But she longs for i t : Anna was thinking: A woman without a man cannot meet a man, any man, of any age, without thinkings even i f i t ' s f o r a half-second, Perhaps t h i s i s the man.-° Anna's desire for unity takes precedence i n any r e l a t i o n s h i p , and t h i s desire that someone else should complete her indicates early the possessive edge of Anna's desire for s e l f - f u l f i l l m e n t . But be- cause she i s not an aggressive person, she i s invariably chosen; she does not choose her men. And because they are not other-directed, the r e s u l t i n g relationships f a i l to give her unity f o r very long. Her choice of men, however, i s l i m i t e d . Her c i r c l e of friends i s small and i s o l a t e d , while her experience of r a d i c a l p o l i t i c s i s i n a state of emotional and i n t e l l e c t u a l stagnation. She finds that 45 many members of the i d e o l o g i c a l l e f t are either f o s s i l i s i n g , or more fragmented than she. As ex-Communist Mi l t remarks: " I t ' s a crazy thing....Moving about the world...you open a door, and behind i t you fin d someone i n trouble. Every time you open a door, there's SOme- ST one i n pieces." In addition, as a divorcee and a free woman she i s considered f a i r game for men looking for an easy lay. Within-i-such l i m i t s , intimacy i s d i f f i c u l t to f i n d . The three major relationships of the novel are those with Molly Jacobs; with Michael, a middle-European emigre from Communism; and wi£h an American, Saul Green. Anna writes of them i n s i g n i f i c a n t l y d i f f e r e n t ways. The f i r s t r e l ationship exists i n two time zones and through two p e r s o n a l i t i e s : the present, written as r e a l i t y i n reportage s t y l e , where Molly i s herself; and the past seen as f i c - t i o n * where Molly i s herself and J u l i a . The second i s h a l f ima- ginary, half r e a l , i n which Anna and her f r i e n d Michael become E l l a and Paul (and the names and characters become interchangeable); while the t h i r d i s almost wholly a creation of Anna's imagination, though the outline for the relationship contains experiences'iwi'tb. two Ameri- cans, M i l t and Nelson, and M i l t ' s story of one Harry Matthews. Anna's durable and well-tempered friendship with Molly i s baBed c h i e f l y upon t h e i r common p o l i t i c a l i n t e r e s t s , t h e i r common problem of bringing up a c h i l d without a man, and t h e i r experiences with men. At the outset, Anna i s somewhat defensive and s e l f - p r o t e c t i v e to- wards Molly, but as she becomes less consciously dependent upon the *From Anna's observation that " l i t e r a t u r e i s analysis a f t e r the event."** 46 friendship she develops self-confidence. She i s able, for example, to deal with Tommy when h i s mother i s distraught. Within t h i s friendship, however, there i s a strong sense of possessiveness. Molly ( J u l i a ) i s p r o t e c t i v e l y jealous of Anna's f i n a n c i a l freedom, as well as possessive towards her writing t a l e n t . Thus she castigates Anna for refusing to write because she wants to enjoy Anna's talent and envies Anna her freedom to l i v e without ha- ving to s e l l her soul. Because of that freedom she seems to f e e l that Anna i s more whole and can be more of a person, unaware that she i s thereby conferring more worth and value on the fact of an independent income than on the regularly earned wage. There i s an echo here of MacPherson's comment that for the philosopher John Locke, i n d i v i d u a l i t y "can only be f u l l y r e a l i z e d i n accumulating property, and therefore only r e a l i z e d by some, and only at the ex- 9 pense of the i n d i v i d u a l i t y of the others." Molly's possessiveness, thus emerges out of defensiveness as a product of marketplace i n - equality, so that Anna can seriously discuss neither her writer's block, for example, nor question the ^ u t i l i t y of exohanging betray- a l s by men fr i e n d s . Molly's emotional and i n t e l l e c t u a l security seems to depend upon Anna's self-assurance and lack of sel'f-doubt based upon an independence of the marketplace. The friendship i s shown to be r e l a t i v e l y straight§orwardaand simple by the dry, spare language used to describe i t i n both the Free Women sections and the notebooks. It i s t h e i r 'magnetic north,' the point of sanity which they use to cope with the pressures of so- c i e t y . Once t h e i r common concerns and needs dwindle, however, a l a - 47 tent competitiveness mainly about men becomes e x p l i c i t and i n t e r - feres with t h e i r friendship. When Molly gets married, and her son i s s e t t l e d , a l l that remain are warm memories, a l i m i t e d emotional a l l i a n c e , and a diminishing p o l i t i c a l i n t e r e s t to hold them to- gether. For the friendship has not been defined by t h e i r need for each other, but as a consequence of t h e i r common problems; and t h i s ultimately a f f e c t s t h e i r a b i l i t y to communicate. They are then l e f t with an increasing sense of f u t i l i t y through t h e i r loss of closeness. Molly's possessiveness, however, obliges Anna to keep her i n d i - v i d u a l i t y i n t a c t . When she i s with Molly, she has to phrase her ideas and experiences so that they are neither c r i t i c a l nor emotion- a l l y disturbing. The e f f o r t to do so makes her s e l f - p r o t e c t i v e , so that when the time" comes she cannot t e l l the truth about her writing to Molly's son. And the steady assumption between the two women that they prefer the company of men to women further i n t e r f e r e s with t h e i r r e l a t i o n s h i p . "*sFree women," said Anna wryly...' they s t i l l define us 30 i n terms of relationships with men, even the best of them!"1 In sp spite of the inference that she prefers not t© be defined i n such terms, however, Anna's l i f e s t y l e perpetuates the misunderstanding. Her impulse to be possessive of herself i s obscured by her strong desire for intimacy. S t i l l informed with much s e l f - i r o n y , Anna's a f f a i r s with Michael and Saul appear more profound and intense because of t h e i r sexual elements. The theme of possessive individualism, however, p e r s i s t s . Anna's account of Molly i s clear, gleaned through the ever-shifting diary entries. That of Anna's f i r s t a f f a i r with Michael i s more ima—=> 48 g i n a t i v e l y presented and much more d i f f i c u l t to piece together, for i t i s interspersed with the p a r a l l e l f i c t i o n a l story of E l l a and Paul. Neither story i s t o l d as a whole unit; each i s fragmented and interphased with other events of Anna's l i f e , past and present. The technique reveals that the a f f a i r does not bring Anna the unity she yearns f o r . Anna weaves the two st o r i e s together, juxtaposing them i n such a way that i t i s often d i f f i c u l t , though perhaps unnecessary, to separate f i c t i o n and r e a l i t y . Unnecessary because the two accounts reinforce each other: Anna's insights into E l l a are also hers into h e r s e l f . Combining fact and imagination, for example, brings Annd to a greater perception about the relations of herself and her phy- s i c a l body ("Our bodies understood each other," she writes of E l l a and Paul'*'"'"}. And l a t e r , as Anna, she writes intensively and i n t i - mately about h e r s e l f — h e r a c t i v i t i e s , her thoughts, her physical t r o u b l e s — f o r one complete day. As though preparing herself for the l a t e r , more profound knowledge concerning the nature of her mind, she seems compelled to understand her physical person before that of her psychic. The psychic adventure comes with the relationship with Saul Green, and i s presented e n t i r e l y as one of the imagination; i t occurs only i n notebook form. Although these men are based on two Americans with whom she had short sexual encounters, they provoke none of the i n t e n s i t y , the sexual warmth and jealousy (and accompanying fear), or the i n - volvement of Anna's intimacy with Saul. This brings her to the edge of madness, to a confrontation with her i n t e l l i g e n c e , her imagina- 49 t i o n , her very i d e n t i t y , and r e s u l t s i n self-knowledge, an enlarged sensetoT i d e n t i t y , and an increased psychological awareness. It i s both t e r r i f y i n g and marvellously rewarding, for Anna comes to know not only herself^- but also through the empathy of love and passion, the nature of Saul. She also experiences the contraries of suffering and of sublime happiness. The experience confirms her insistence that she must be i n love as a prelude to s e l f - d i s c o v e r y ! So t h i s r e l a t i o n s h i p i s quite d i f f e r e n t . It i s written as a complete unit, without interruption; through understanding herself more c l e a r l y , t h i s r elationship has u n i f i e d Anna. Depending upon the in t e n s i t y of her love, therefore, she may engender either per- ceptive insight, or personal l i m i t a t i o n . When she i s i n love with Michael/Paul, for example, Anna/Ella writes of welcoming the emotion- a l s a t i s f a c t i o n s of suspending the drive of her i n t e l l i g e n c e . For her, the interplay of giving and taking i n the love a f f a i r with Mi- chael enhances her physical and emotional nature. But by not taking her creative i n t e l l i g e n c e seriously, Michael i n h i b i t s her deeper i n - sights of both i n t e l l e c t and s p i r i t . (And though E l l a writes a novel during her a f f a i r with Paul, i t i s about suicide and death.) On the other hand, when Saul respects Anna's experience and knowledge, Anna-in-love moves into a deeper awareness of herself (as i n the q u a l i t i e s of touch), while her desires, motives, and imagina- t i o n move into new spheres of empathy with other people and cultures. Her preference, however, i s to be i n h i b i t e d i n t e l l e c t u a l l y , as that increases her emotional and physical perceptions. These help to push back the borders of the resented a l i e n a t i n g world. But Anna's 50 happiness i s not shared; as Anna commits herself to the rel a t i o n s h i p , Michael's involvement becomes only marginally important. Several points are clear about the a f f a i r with Michael/Paul: i t s s t r i k i n g privacy; Anna's utter commitment seen i n counterpoint with Michael's q u a l i f i e d response; her emotional r e f u s a l to recog- nise the imminent end of the a f f a i r i n spite of knowing the truth; snd the strong possessive character of the re l a t i o n s h i p . Once Paul has trampled the b a r r i e r s of E l l a ' s s o c i a l and sexual privacy, she f a l l s deeply i n love, and holds to a powerful image of both herself anddthe rel a t i o n s h i p (which l a s t s longer than her marriage). Her son Michael thinks of Paul as a father, and E l l a f i g h t s to keep the image of him as her man. So she knowingly chooses to overlook his d a i l y a v i s i t s to hie wife and children as irr e l e v a n t to t h e i r love, a, and t r i e s to ignore his prgy.oeati'oniab'Qn.t her willingness to make love on t h e i r f i r s t date. Afterwards he would complain, h a l f - b i t t e r , half-humourous: 'You should have loved me at f i r s t s i g h t . . . 1 Later s t i l l , he would develop the theme, consciously humourous now...: 'The face i s the soul. How can a man trust a woman who f a l l s i n love with himnionly a f t e r they have made love? You did not love me at a l l . ' 1 * Even though Paul i s dishonestly r a t i o n a l i s i n g his desire to leave E l l a , his conclusion seems to have a grain of truth. His accusation makes her love seem fa l s e as i t s i s the r e s u l t of a bargain, but i f she has not been i n love with him for f i v e years, then c l e a r l y , her desire for re l a t i o n s h i p brings her to f a l l i n love with the wholeness she experiences within intimacy. This would explain a great deal about Anna-Ella. Ready for a 51 commitment to a man, E l l a i s an easy victim to Paul's charm. Be- cause of the ali e n a t i n g nature of society however, she attempts to keep th i s r e l a t i o n s h i p out of the marketplace by keeping him lar g e l y to h e r s e l f . Her f l a t becomes a refuge, a haven i n which they eat together r i t u a l i s t i c a l l y night a f t e r night, a f t e r her son has gone to bed. ( S i m i l a r l y , Anna's daughter always eats her meals on a tray i n her room when Michael i s i n the house.) The themes of i s o - l a t i o n and privacy only accompany Anna's two intimate r e l a t i o n s h i p s . She seems to be insecure, f e a r f u l that they w i l l be shattered i f they are not protected by the cushion of secrecy from an alienated, fragmenting society. At the same time, she becomes so "other£directed" that she seems to be only half a person when he i s absent. Even a f t e r se- ver a l years of separation, E l l a i s s t i l l dependent upon Paul: When she was with Paul she f e l t no sex hungers that were not prompted by him; that i f he was apart from her for a few days, she was dorman.t u n t i l he returned... .That when she loved a man again, she would return to normal: a woman that i s , whose sexuality i s , so to speak, contained by a man, i f he^is a r e a l man; she i s , i n a sense, put to sleep by him, she does not think about sex. 13 The statement i s strange, because i t would appear that women who have desires are abnormal, and that she i s dependent upon a r e a l man who w i l l release her desires and then f u l f i l l them. But because she believes that love and sex must go together, her i n s t i n c t that Paul does "contain" her sexuality brings E l l a to the b e l i e f that he i s an integrated man who w i l l unify her. When he refuses her love therefore, she fe e l s betrayed because he has denied her desire for unity, and thus undermined t h e i r sexual r e l a t i o n s h i p as well as 52 her love.* As a man who can "darken" her mind, Paul gives E l l a a unity which i s destroyed when he leaves her. S i m i l a r l y , when Michael doubts the r e a l i t y of t h e i r "great love a f f a i r , " and accuses Anna of l i v i n g i n her own world of r e a l i t y , she f e e l s a t e r r i b l e dismay and coldness at his words, as i f he were denying my existence....Afterwards I fought with a f e e l i n g that always takes hoUid of me a f t e r one of these exchanges: unreality, as i f the substance of my s e l f were thinning and dissolving. 1"^ By i d e n t i f y i n g herself with Michael, Anna loses m a t e r i a l i t y and f e e l s vulnerable and insecure without him, although E l l a hopes that she w i l l f a l l i n love with another r e a l man who w i l l give her security. Yet Anna's surrender to Michael i s i n c o n f l i c t with her poss- essive individualism, and i t s t i f l e s her c r e a t i v i t y . She exchanges the alienating nature of contemporary relationships for the w i l l i n g a l i e n a t i o n of her own s e l f ; for by giving up her freedom to desire, she gains " i n t e g r i t y " which she defines as "orgasm." The irony i s sharp. A free woman i s thus one who does not experience "orgasm" because she i s not made whole through sexual f u l f i l l m e n t within i n - timacy. That i s , "free women" are not free; they are merely a l i e n a - ted. The l o g i c a l thrust becomes one i n which only through surrender, of her consciousness can a woman be true to herself and f i n d her r e a l freedom. D.H. Lawrence has the same message i n h i s novels Women i n Love *Marx held that "sex as an end i s non-human, so that the qual i t y of sex determines how far man's natural behaviour has become human." 53 and Aaron 1s Rod, and i n some of h i s essays. The conception, how- ever, denies that women have desires as women to be free and i n t e - grated, surrendering and consciously knowing. In addition, Anna i l l u s t r a t e s that her surrender brings Michael to "own" her so that she defines her s e l f i n terms of his existence; and her surrender then creates a complementary possession. Because of her deep need for the relat i o n s h i p , Anna denies Michael's r e a l i t y as a man deeply scarred and alienated by p o l i t i c a l and personal experience. Creating an image of him as a r e a l man, she possesses a rela t i o n s h i p which integrates her; but by placing her desire for unity within something outside herself, the s p l i t remains i n her soul. When Michael leaves her, she has to return to her previous s e l f , with i t s i n t e l l e c t u a l c a p a b i l i t i e s and respon- s i b i l i t i e s , which she has surrendered to him. E l l a c a l l s her sub- mission "naivety:" "What E l l a l o s t during those f i v e years was the ~ 16 power to create through naivety." " ( I t a l i c s i n the text.) It f u l f i l l s her, she says, when Paul destroyed i n her the knowing, doubting, sophisticated E l l a and again and again he put her in t e l l i g e n c e to sleep...so that she floated darkly on her love f o r him, on her naivety, which i s another word for a spontaneous creative f a i t h . And when h i s own dist r u s t of himself destroyed t h i s woman-in- love, so that she began thinking, she would fight to return to naivety. 1? The r e p e t i t i o n of Ursula's experience i n Woman i n Love, and the echo of Lawrence's essay on women, "The Real Thing," i s both s t r i - king and numbing as Anna/Ella i s supposed to be a free woman. And the quotation woul'cl seem to support Lawrence's contention that women are emotionally and sexually dependent upon men, but that men are 54 s i m i l a r l y dependent. As a r e s u l t , Anna i s open to emotional and i n t e l l e c t u a l manipulation i n her fig h t to return to naivety. And i n a world i n which men are more alienated than women, i t would be impossible for the women to B:escreative i n thi s way. The phrase "she floated darkly on her love for him" also em- phasises that the relationship appears to be incomplete. She i s not " l o s t i n the other," but l o s t i n herself, which takes the ego s e l f into the heart of her deepest intimacy. Thus the rela t i o n s h i p f a i l s ultimately because i t i s foreign to Anna's nature. She de- ludes herself i f she fee l s that i t i s right for her i n t e l l e c t to be denied. The s p l i t she experiences runs through the whole culture, and i t cannotlb:e healed through an alienated, private a f f a i r , nor one which excludes the mind and over-emphasises f e e l i n g . Anna uses her relationships to buffer herself from r e a l i t y , and i t i s most of a l l t h i s protective s h e l l which Anna misses when Michael leaves her. In spite of herself, then, Anna s t i l l belongs to herself; she has merely overlaid her individualism with the desire to be whole. In t h i s way, she can avoid confronting h e r s e l f . I r o n i c a l l y , Anna undergoes psychotherapy (presumably an i n t e - grating experience) throughout her a f f a i r with Michael, i n order to make her " f e e l . " As an invasion of her psyche, the therapy para- l l e l s her emotional surrender i n which Anna i s ( i n the words of Hobbes) "invaded and dispossessed." Because of the voluntary na- ture of both acts, Anna does not f e e l devalued as a person, although Molly constantly questions the value of the re l a t i o n s h i p . Both the a f f a i r and the therapy conclude at the same time, which suggestsi&hat 55 the 'cure,' the a b i l i t y to f e e l , has f i n a l l y s e n s i t i s e d Anna to recognise Michael's waning interest and thus see her i l l u s i o n for what i t i s . Also i t suggests that Anna's most s i g n i f i c a n t r e l a t i o n - ship i s associated with loss of fe e l i n g , and with her writer's block. E s s e n t i a l l y , t h i s intimacy i s one of submission and power ( l i k e many commercial transactions), and Anna's preference for i s o - l a t i o n becomes another kind of possessiveness because i t spawns certain pressures. Michael takes advantage of her a v a i l a b i l i t y un- t i l the golden threads of domesticity and sexual p a s s i v i t y begin to chafe, and then he struggles to be free by beginning another a f f a i r . Three years l a t e r , Anna experiences her second passionate re- lation s h i p , and i t i s an i l l u s t r a t i o n of one of E l l a ' s story ideas: I've got to accept the patterns of self-knowledge which mean unhappiness or at least a dryness. But I can twist i t into v i c t o r y . A man and a woman—yes. Both at the end of t h e i r tether. Both cracking up because of a deliberate attempt to transcend t h e i r own l i m i t s . And out of the chaos, a new kind of strength. • Like Michael, and most of her casual brushes with sexual partners, Saul Green i s a foreigner. But sex within t h i s a l l i a n c e i s not a l - ways a surrender; i t i s a barometer of the quality of the r e l a t i o n - ship, and a physical earthy contact giving security and warmth from which to move into and return from psychic exploration. For Anna i t becomes the means for surrender and knowledge through which she experiences a kind of terror, and for the f i r s t time a strong, pul- sating sexual jealousy. 56 The sole account of t h i s a f f a i r i s i n diary form, and though u n i f i e d , i s thus less than the tru t h . Powerful, and stunningly ambiguous, i t i s an interrupted unity written i n two notebook^, f i r s t i n the blue (used f o r personal r e f l e c t i o n ) , and then i n the gold (for u n i t y ) . S i g n i f i c a n t l y , however, the gold notebook i s not mentioned i n the free women section which succeeds i t , so i t i s as yet an imaginative unity only. Once more, time i s f l u i d and without a reference point, so that what seems to be weeks of an a f f a i r with Saul i s only s i x days with M i l t . The association, indeed, i s passed over l i g h t l y with the comment from Molly, that " i t " was "not the 1 § most sensible thing you ever did, I should have thought." 1 7 But i f the golden notebook i s the symbol of Anna's u n i f i c a t i o n (as i s cer- t a i n l y i m p l i c i t within the novel's structure), the creation of order out of her chaos and the accomodation of warring elements into one whole, then her remark i s another i n d i c a t i o n of Molly's i n a b i l i t y to grasp Anna's selfhood. But i t i s t h i s mostly imaginary re l a t i o n s h i p which brings Anna out of her private world back into the public view. aShe s t a r t s looking for a job, takes on volunteer work with juvenile delinquents, and joins the Labour Party. That i s , the a f f a i r enables her to ac- cept at least for the moment the s p l i t nature of herself and r e a l - i t y . It also brings her to a minimal accomodation with the world of commerce and business. Once more, however, Anna creates love out of the r e l a t i o n s h i p and her need for a man, through Saul's need for her to renew men's self-confidence at a time when they are emotionally, psychologically, 57 and thus sexually insecure. For the moment though, i t i s enough 20 for her that she l i e s " i n the arms of a man one loves." From that security comes a sense of "oneness with everything." She takes on the mantle of being a l l women to Saul, but that s t i f l e s him and f o r - ces him out of the i s o l a t e d "ship" of her f l a t into the outer world where other women are not so smothering. Saul thus responds to Anna's exclusiveness i n the same way as Michael, even though the relationship i s d i f f e r e n t . With the involvement of Anna's i n t e l l i - gence, the a f f a i r i s emotionally unifying and very exhausting, for i t leaps from love, to hate, to friendship, to egomania, to defensive n e u t r a l i t y . The ambiguity of the section i s such, however, that a l l these shared c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s may belong only to Anna, where they afce f i g h t i n g for order and p r i o r i t y . Thus i t i s she, not the relationship, which expands and deve- lops, though she can describe only the loss and deprivation of happi- ness, love and sublime joy she finds i n intimacy. S i m i l a r l y , she 21 grasps Marx's tenet that "the basic unit of r e a l i t y i s a Relation," for she finds herself as Anna, and as part of a l l su f f e r i n g humanity fi g h t i n g for i t s freedom from oppression. Recognising t h i s Relation, however, brings Anna to the edggii of insanity. It i s as though the struggle to combat the a l i e n a t i o n of contemporary society with the emotional surrender to love and re- lationship creates a powerful psychological c o n f l i c t . She i s unable to carry the memory of her joy into her l i f e . Instead she becomes f r a n t i c , 4 j e a l o u s of Saul's absences, and t h i s triggers t e r r i f y i n g dreams i n which she almost loses her s e l f . Her s e l f - i r o n y disappears, 58 and only her despised i n t e l l e c t rescues? her. In an awareness of sanity f e l t through the shock of insanity, she comes to f e e l that sanity depends on t h i s : that i t should be a delight to f e e l the roughness of a carpet under smooth soles; a delight to f e e l heat s t r i k e the skin, a delight to stand upright, knowing the bones are moving e a s i l y under flesh.22 Once more, t h i s a f f a i r i s wholly protected from the pu b l i c . Though they hold the seeds of many short s t o r i e s and novellas, her visions and insights are shared only with her diary. I t i s as though Anna's very immersion of herself i n another l i k e Saul who i s equally possessive of a dream , i s extensively creative, but the cre- a t i v i t y remains undeveloped and unshared. Instead, Anna's deepest i n s t i n c t s are committed to maintain the i n t e g r i t y of her whole per- son. This fundamental i n a b i l i t y to share her s e l f i s a heavy bur- den on her men, and they ultimately refuse the enveloping responsi- b i l i t y of her possessiveness. Nevertheless, Saul Green i s a dif f e r e n t kind of man from Michael, and i t i s s i g n i f i c a n t that, as a mostly imagined person, he accepts more of Anna. F i r s t the relationship i s not primarily defined as sexual, as i t was with Paul/Michael. Anna can bring her mind into the friendship without i t being decried or discounted; 23 rather i t i s respected and responded to i n a serious way. Emo- t i o n a l l y they are also compatible, as his neuroses produce equally strong neuroses i n her. For the f i r s t time, Anna's developing love c a r r i e s the need to be the only woman i n Saul's l i f e so that he can respond to her i n the image of a r e a l man. Both those desires are possessive. When happy 59 with him, she sees the f l a t " l i k e a ship f l o a t i n g on a dark sea, i t 2k seems to f l o a t , i s o l a t e d from l i f e , self-contained." And the i n - timacy remains private because Anna f e e l s that "there was nothing to say" about i t . When the rela t i o n s h i p i s going well, i t permits her to lose herself once more, without thought, awareness of time, or analysis of experience. This contrasts strongly with her out- pourings on her suff e r i n g , her quotidian l i f e , and her unhappiness when Saul breaks the s p e l l she creates around them. Inevitably, when Saul leaves her, she feels "betrayed," because he was her source of happiness. It i s the same denial of r e l a t i o n s h i p that brings her to r a t i o n a l i s e Michael away: "I had happiness with Mi- chael, but i t meant nothing to him, for i f i t did, he wouldn't have l e f t me."25 This i s a curious remark, because i t uses the singular ' I * and not 'we.' It implies that her happiness i s paramount. Feeling be- trayed when her lovers leave her also means that she does not carry the happiness with her i n memory, which leads her to be increasingly possessive of the man who can evoke that happiness within her. It i s the only time that she can ignore the external world, and thus her own possessive individualism. Saul's i n s t i n c t i v e r e f u s a l to co-operate highlights his impulse to self-preservation, as well as h i s awareness that Anna wants to possess him i n order to heighten her individualism. This i s further i l l u s t r a t e d by an illuminating passage. Then there was moment of knowledge. I understood I'd gone right inside his craziness: he was looking for t h i s wisest kind, all-mother figure, who i s also sexual playmate and s i 60 sister;;and because I have become part of him, t h i s i s what I was looking for too, both fo r myself, because I needed her, and because I wanted to become her. I understood I could no longer separate myself from Saul, and that frightened me more than I have been frightened.^ 6 Frightened f i r s t of a l l because she knows that he w i l l leave her as soon as she makes too many strong emotional claims on him, and thus lose her new found unity. Yet that picture of a woman i s simi- l a r to the mental p o r t r a i t E l l a imagines of Paul's wife, and i t i s one which i s not crazy at a l l : the figures of mother, s i s t e r , lover and f r i e n d contain the four aspects of love. Anna herself has shown elements of a l l three figures with Saul, but i t seems that the pros- pect of being whole as a woman and a human being f i l l s her with panic. Her freedom as a possessive i n d i v i d u a l i s t would be com- promised. It i s paradoxical, yet consistent with her individualism, that Anna i s w i l l i n g to surrender much of what she i s assa person i n order to become naive, yet i s frightened of experiencing a genuine form of unity with another through love. The paradox can be ex- plained because she can re t a i n her i n d i v i d u a l i t y i n the f i r s t , and may not i n the second. A comparison of Anna's re l a t i o n s h i p s reveals that the f i r s t two contain forms of submission which enable Anna to avoid an emotional commitment which w i l l change her. And the t h i r d forces her to think c r i t i c a l l y about herself, an evaluation which sends her into jealousy and madness, but not wholeness,,which w i l l compromise her s e l f . One further r e s u l t s o f her time with Saul i s that she writes a great deal out of her terror of separation, of mental breakdown and 61 unhappiness. Out of the emotional c o n f l i c t and f r i c t i o n i s born both a creative urge, and a desire to create a new order. Thus Saul writes h i s successful short novel from Anna's suggested f i r s t l i n e r ; and Anna writes The Golden Notebook from h i s ! Thus the sec- t i o n of the novel r e l a t i n g her a f f a i r with Saul Green i s the most o r i g i n a l and inventive because i t recognises that an alienated s o c i - ety cannot be healed through submission. And also that for Anna the key to unity l i e s within her own mind> Preferring to submit also makes her hide her v i t a l talent which would force her to become a public f i g u r e . The novel begins: "The two women were alone i n the London f l a t . " They are Saul's words yet, ambiguously and paradoxically, he prefaces them with a 27 short phrase: "There are the two women you are, Anna." Molly, the Jewish extrovert, cheerfully independent, impressed with char- acter and not money, a small-time actress and a r t i s t i c d i l e t t a n t e ; and Anna, the thoughtful, quiet, talented, "spiky" committed author: the public and private Anna. With the publication of the novel, they exchange ro l e s , for Molly gets married, adjusting her old p h i l o - sophy to something which may be close to the truth of both women: It was said of Molly that "Her source of self-respect was that she had n o t — a s she put i t — g i v e n up and crawled into safety somewhere. Into a safe marriage." 2^ The 'Molly' part of Anna thus becomes private, and t h i s releases her inner s e l f , her i n d i v i d u a l i t y , to the outer world, so that she can get a job dealing with "other people'^ marriages." The mere factor of both women becoming "integrated with B r i t i s h l i f e at i t s 62 roots" forces the committed Anna back into the marketplace, where she has to bargain with her talents i n order to earn a l i v i n g . As a consequence, she w i l l no longer be a " t o t a l proprietor of her own person," and she r e a l i s e s i t with a new consciousness: that she w i l l enter an a f f a i r knowing that i t w i l l be temporary, "barren" and "li m i t e d . " For those are the r e s u l t s of f e e l i n g i n a world i n which 30* love generally leads only to money and power. That i s , while there are no " r e a l men," her denial of al i e n a t i o n continually i n - creases her f e e l i n g of being s p l i t . The idiom of possessive individualism creates many of Anna's pro- blems with r e l a t i o n s h i p which she wants to experience without com- promising her freedom. Her assertion that loving a man i s the only 31 thing she has talent f o r helps to deny her alie n a t i o n , but i t also helps heratoiavoid confronting her fragmented l i f e . And her i n d i v i - dualism forces her to deny the Marxian insight that a l l things are related. Her only recourse i s to explore her psychic unity, even though she knows that t h i s w i l l mean "buttoning-upfl her emotions. Because of Anna's inner and personal struggles, and the f a s c i n - ation of the struggle between i n d i v i d u a l freedom and commitment to another, she becomes superlatively r e a l . She has an involvement with l i v i n g which i s consequential for the reader. Interestingly, Doris Lessing wrote that she interrupted her Bildungsroman on Martha Quest i n order to write The Golden Notebook, as though she were conscious of a lack i n the saga. For the series i s generally unemotional,and •As Adam Smith says: love often leads to ambition, but ambition seldom leads to love. 63 u n i n t e l l e c t u a l , and contains l i t t l e intimate r e l a t i o n s h i p . Emo- tio n and intimacy are not the primary concerns of Martha i n the 52 second Lessing novel under discussion, The Four-Gated City, and the novel i s often impersonal as a r e s u l t . The book could be seen as a dramatisation of a perception of Anna's: she i s speaking to her p s y c h i a t r i s t , i n s i s t i n g that there are new things i n the world which can be recognised: Yes, there's a hint of something—there's a crack i n that man's personality l i k e a gap i n a dam, and through that gap the f u - ture might pour i n a d i f f e r e n t s h a p e — t e r r i b l e perhaps, or mar- vellous, but something new—...sometimes I meet people, and i t seems to me the fact they are cracked across, they're s p l i t , means they are keeping themselves open for something.33 Martha Quest i s one of those people. In her essay f o r the book Declaration, Doris Lessing makes a strong plea for a commitment from the a r t i s t : to investigate and to probe the l i m i t s and r e s p o n s i b i l i t i e s involved i n the " c o n f l i c t " which exists between the obligations of the i n d i v i d u a l to the soc- i e t y , and those to h i s own conscience and judgement. The point of rest should be the writer's recognition of man, the responsible i n d i v i d u a l , v o l u n t a r i l y submitting h i s w i l l to the c o l l e c t i v e but never f i n a l l y ; and i n s i s t i n g on making his own personal and private judgements before every act of sub m i s i ion?'^^ This commitment i s the stated central theme of the Martha Quest novels: "a study of the i n d i v i d u a l conscience i n i t s r e l a t i o n s with 3 5 the c o l l e c t i v e . " Lessing goes on to declare that those who wish to create a new s o c i a l order must have a v i s i o n , one which "must spring from the nature of the world we l i v e i n , " and one which i n - volves not merely a question of preventing an e v i l , but of streng- 64 thening a v i s i o n of a good which may defeat the e v i l . " With such a d e f i n i t e goal, i t i s curious that Lessing should create a heroine who makes few conscious^ moral decisions per se, of which the reader i s d i r e c t l y informed. Ifnstead, Martha seems to d r i f t i n and out of situations which on r e f l e c t i o n appear to have been morally decided. In the novel, the existing society has no v i s i o n , and i s destroyed by an accidental nuclear explosion, thus enabling a new, moral s o c i a l order to come into being. In the absence of annational and international conscience, i t i s Martha's task to pro- vide the es s e n t i a l moral perspective as she works through her re- la t i o n s with the c o l l e c t i v e . The novel, therefore, i s profoundly r e l i g i o u s . The m i l l e n n i a l resolution to the novel focusses i t s r e l i g i o u s nature, and i n f e r s that a new v i s i o n of community i s not possible through the renewal of close relationships within the present so- cie t y because i t has l o s t i t s f a i t h . Thus rel a t i o n s h i p s are not important to Martha. Salvation can only come, Lessing suggests, through a purging which w i l l cleanse B r i t a i n and thence the world of i t s miseries, i n e q u i t i e s , and i n j u s t i c e . Thus t h i s novel, l i k e The Golden Notebook and The C o l l e c t o r , confronts the reader with the assumption that primary relationships are impracticable i n a s o c i a l system which i s eroding the human s p i r i t of i t s freedom and judgement, and reducing human re l a t i o n s to the medium of the marketplace. The metaphor of the c i t y gates also warns of the penalties of extremism; and recommends a balance which w i l l release the pote n t i a l of l i v i n g a moral, creative l i f e 65 as a whole person. Only those, however, who have kept t h e i r free- dom of soul and i n t e g r i t y of mind are free to enter new worlds of perception and action. The Four-Gated City therefore contributes strongly to the argu- ment of possessive individualism; although i t contains no intimate relationships i t c l a r i f i e s some of the consequences of such i n d i - vidualism, while i t s symbols give a sense of organised relationships which provide a f o i l to the personal. Both symbolically and l i t e r - a l l y , i t v i v i d l y i l l u s t r a t e s the consequences of extremist a c t i v i t y , and shows the e f f e c t s on a novel of such a strong authorial commit- ment. This commitment i s important, for i t indicates Lessing's ap- proach to the "responsible i n d i v i d u a l " i n society. First,tithe i n d i v i d u a l and the c o l l e c t i v e are always i n potential c o n f l i c t and tension with each other. Second, the i n d i v i d u a l i s paramount i n society as the source of values, i n d i c a t i n g that she/he should v a l i - date a l l decisions. F i n a l l y , she/he i s free from pressures which w i l l prevent them from making "personal and private judgements" free of bias. Martha Quest i s such an i n d i v i d u a l and, l i k e Anna, she i s a possessive i n d i v i d u a l i s t . A l l Martha's jobs, for example, are l i m i t e d i n t h e i r demands on her time and energy; she has minimal "dependence on the w i l l s of others." Committing herself to no-one, she has few close r e l a t i o n - ships, and only her mother i s demanding of her time and emotional support. (These demands drain Martha of physical and emotional strength, as she resents the i n t r u s i o n of another person on her sel'f. 66 This s i t u a t i o n brings Martha to the verge of a mental breakdown.) Her freedom as an i n d i v i d u a l remains e s s e n t i a l l y uncompromised, and i s an i l l u s t r a t i o n of MacPherson's assertion that "society becomes a l o t of free equal in d i v i d u a l s related to each other as proprietors of t h e i r own capacities and of whattthey have acquired by t h e i r exer c i s e . Society consists of r e l a t i o n s of exchange between proprietors Martha f l i r t s with the idea of l i v i n g with the London working class, for example, through short v i s i t s with two f a m i l i e s . But, emotionally s t i f l e d by the close family relationships, Martha soon re j e c t s t h i s way of community. Her companions are not "free" i n the i n d i v i d u a l sense. Instead they belong to t h e i r own c o l l e c t i v e , subject to rules which are l a r g e l y unquestioned and accepted, and thus do not assert the proprietorship of t h e i r own persons. And when she i s interviewed for her job with the Coldridge family, the same emphasis i g there: Martha wants no claims to be l a i d on her; the hope i n a c h i l d ' s eyes that she w i l l stay with them gives her the j i t t e r s . OOnly when independent does she f e e l able to f u l f i l l h e r s e l f . In view of t h i s bias, her natural niche i s i n an upper middle class family of independent wealth where nothing i s emotionally required of her. The family i s a groupd of free-wheeling i n d i v i d u a l i s t s , owing l i t t l e to anyone save through a l i m i t e d sense of k i n - ship and unspoken a f f e c t i o n . MacPherson's phrase "relations of exchange between proprietors" to describe the Coldridges may bp rather stringent, but bartering occurs on the emotional plane i n the family. I t i s e x p l i c i t , for example, i n Mark Coldridge's re- 67 l a t i o n s h i p i with his mentally i l l wife Lynda and i m p l i c i t with his son Francis, while his nephew Paul feels obliged to use i t i n his contacts with the family after being abandoned by both his parents. Lessing*s commitment as an a r t i s t can be traced through the five books of the Quest series, concluding i n The Four-Gated City . The e a r l i e r novels take place i n the B r i t i s h colony of Zambesia, where Martha grows up i n r e b e l l i o n against family and convention during the inter-war years. I t i s an early indication of her dec- la r a t i o n of independence from s o c i a l t i e s . Adulthood brings two marriages and subsequent divorces, motherhood, and membership i n the Communist Party (her background i s surprisingly s i m i l a r to Anna Wulf's), and then emigration to England i n 1946. S t r i c t l y speaking, a l l Martha's experiences have ended i n f a i l u r e , but when judged i n the l i g h t of Lessing's commitment, she i s seen to be testing herself against the conventional relationships of the c o l l e c t i v e : the family, marriage, motherhood and the p o l i - t i c a l community. Martha refuses to submit to any of them, as none of them are consistent with the v i s i o n of a new society she saw as a c h i l d , and which s t i l l beckons to her. After each experience, Martha struggles to regain her indepen- dence. (Lessing*s word "conscience" seems inappropriate here i n that there i s no e x p l i c i t moral decision.) She recognises that she i s very different from the simple black women "who might be women i n peace, according to their i n s t i n c t s , " but she searches for an equi- valent wholeness f i r s t through s o c i a l contacts, and then through her s e l f . 68 This assertion of individualism i s gradual but d i s t i n c t . At the time of Martha's a r r i v a l i n London (the beginning of The Four- Gated Cjlty), she has deliberately abandoned her roots. F i r s t with her daughter Caroline, whom she leaves ostensibly f o r the ch i l d ' s sake, when she separates from her f i r s t husband. Then with her mother, a f a m i l i a l r e lationship which has never been s a t i s f a c t o r y , for neither woman could sympathise with the other's f r u s t r a t i o n s and r e b e l l i o n against Zambesia and i t s counterfeit white c o l o n i a l society. And f i n a l l y by leaving Zambesia where she was born. Limited as they are, a l l the relationships are conventional, almost stereotyped. Martha seems to be responding to generalisa- tions about family and marriage'f and that may be one of the reasons that i f Martha cannot get excited about them, neither can the reader. The individualism i s developing i n reaction to a smothering, s p i r i t u a l l y exhausted c o l l e c t i v e , composed la r g e l y of unthinking, self-oriented, f u t i l e people who permit Martha almost no alterna - t i v e s . Such a 'straw' society has few redeeming features, and i s not d i f f i c u l t to r i d i c u l e . The Englishhsociety i s not very d i f f e r - enfev'iand Martha avoids that as much as possible, for she under- stands that "the new, an opening up, has to be through a region of 39 chaos, of c o n f l i c t . There was no other way of doing i t . " And the English community i s ordered and confining, not chaotic and open. Personal attachments thus come to be recognised as emotional traps which w i l l destroy the o b j e c t i v i t y , the distancing she needs to f i n d her place v i s - a - v i s the community at large. This with- 69 drawal from personal needs leaves her curiously f l a t as a charac- t e r . Many of her motives remain hidden or undiscovered; because she has few confessional relationships, the reader's acquaintance with her i s largely l i m i t e d to her s o c i a l a c t i v i t i e s and minimal narra- tor comment. The loss of depth i s c r u c i a l , for i t eventually cre- ates a lack of c r e d i b i l i t y i n Martha as a person, and thus ques- tions the v a l i d i t y of Lessing's th e s i s . In addition, she cuts herself off from the past because her memories are p a i n f u l , and she l i v e s for her v i s i o n and the future. Yet she can only keep schizophrenia at bay when she recreates her childhood step by d i f f i c u l t step. Her problem l i e s i n her agonising associations with her mother's i n s e n s i t i v i t y and pathetic snobbery; b u t i i t i s the house, not the relationship,which Martha recaptures to cure herself during her breakdown. The transference of person to place i s symptomatic, and i t once more r e s u l t s i n a loss of depth. Paradoxically, however, the madness which resul t s from her denial of community and intimacy i s the means to her salvation and her new community. Ma-EtihV'JS i s o l a t i o n and al i e n a t i o n can be seen as one of Lessing*s responses to the increasing p o l i t i c a l and bureaucratic interference i n , and violence done toi?. the ind i v i d u a l l i f e . These invasions of privacy became increasingly evident i n the inter-war years. S i g n i f i - cantly, the t i t l e of the Quest series® i s Children of Violence, and Martha sees herself as a c h i l d of her time. Every f i b r e of Martha's body, everything she thought, every movement she made, everything she was, was because she had been born at the end of one world war, and had spent a l l her 70 adolescence i n the atmosphere of preparations for another which had lasted f i v e years and had i n f l i c t e d such wounds on the human race that no one had any idea of what the re- su l t s would be. Martha did not believe i n violence. Martha was the essence of violence, she had been conceived, bred, fed and reared on v i o l e n c e . ^ And both violence and possessive individualism attack the existing s o c i a l order, so Martha continues to rej e c t society's t r a d i t i o n a l attachments as mother for c h i l d , c h i l d for parent, man for woman, woman for man. Lessing's society, l i k e that of Hobbes, i s a power struggle i n which there are no disinterested r e l a t i o n s h i p s . By inference, possessing only oneself becomes a moral position, though i t denies society which consists of a web of re l a t i o n s h i p s . Thus the phrase " i n d i v i d u a l conscience" develops f o r Martha into a strong form of possessive individualism? She recognises no direct duty or obligationntoward the c o l l e c t i v e ; she owes nothing to the past or to the present; while many of her relationships are d i s - charged within an alienated context. She becomes an observer of society, commenting on i t by her re j e c t i o n of i t s tenets. As a Marxist, she refuses to be trapped within the stereotype of the New S o c i a l i s t man, and i n s i s t s on retaining her right to i n d i v i d u a l thought. But she has yet to f i n d her Forward. This imposes on her a sense of d r i f t i n g so that the next stage to an emancipation l i k e SarahlWox»a.Eu5fifi'ss i s much le s s decisive. But, as there was with Sarah, there i s the impression of a d i r e c t i o n a l , external force guiding Martha through her testing of the c o l l e c t i v e . During t h i s expectant waiting, Martha meets Thomas Stern: a Jewish refugee from Poland, a gardener, and a man of gentleness and 71 passion.* U n t i l now, Martha has f a i l e d to become deeply involved with anyone or any i n s t i t u t i o n , so her f i r s t reaction to Thomas i s a t y p i c a l one of non-involvement, preferring, as she says, to " l i v e deprived, to be resigned^, to be self-contained. No, she did not 41 want to be dissolved." (Martha r e a l i s e s very well that her r e f u s a l of r e lationship impoverishes her l i f e . ) From such suspicious cau- t i o n develops aiffiendship which becomes a deep and strong r e l a t i o n - ship d i f f i c u l t to describe. It was, she says as natural as breathing. And even the long process of breaking- down—as they both learned to put i t — f o r the other, or learn- ing to expose oneself, was something they did together, ack- nowledging they had to do i t . ^ The vocabulary i s enlightening, for i t makes Martha's fear spe- c i f i c that an a f f a i r would "dissolve" her as a person, and thus be an invasion of her i n d i v i d u a l i t y . Yet the reader never knows whether or not she dissolves,febecause the a f f a i r takes place i n private, alienated from family, friends, and the c o l l e c t i v e . She and Thomas meet every day i n a gardener's hut, symbolically among growing things but otherwise apart from everything Martha has ever known. The r e l a t i o n s h i p i s l i k e an exotic flower, and mistrusted by a society of "salesmen" because th e i r love i s f r e e l y given and taken. But t h e i r separation from other people i s again s t r i k i n g , while i t *It i s curious that, l i k e herself, many of Lessing's characters are foreigners to the country i n which they l i v e , and are often refugees from oppression of one kind or another. They have few roots i n t h e i r country of adoption, and minimal security, save that which they can fi n d within themselves and t h e i r p o l i t i c a l philosophies. **As i n The Golden Notebook, the Lawrentian overtones are strong. The phrase about breathing can be found almost verbatim i n Lawrence's essay, "The Real Thing. , | / +3 7 2 almost guarantees a temporary rel a t i o n s h i p because Martha's commit- ment forces her to be i n , though not of, society. Commitment des- troys the o b j e c t i v i t y she cannot achieve through irony?f l i k e Anna. Because of the a f f a i r ' s symbols of growth, however, the f i n a l irony of her di s s o l u t i o n i s that Martha comes 'out of solution' as i t were'41 unchanged. She has merely experienced another part of the c o l l e c t i v e . Nor have the exposure and the breaking-down given the reader any further insights into Martha; there i s only the conviction that she must go to England. That i s to say, her i n d i v i d u a l i t y re- mains i n t a c t . Something as i n s t i n c t i v e and ess e n t i a l as breathing might have been expected to have had more significance i n her l i f e . But she i s once more constant to her commitment to the i n d i v i d u a l conscience, and though Thomas i s always remembered as a symbol of l i f e , Martha never seeks for nor hungers a f t e r another r e l a t i o n s h i p . It may be that she understands that the commercial nature of the western world w i l l always destroy her close rela t i o n s h i p s , so that she prefers not to get involved again. She never forgets him, although the qual i t y of the memory chan- ges: "A person who has gone away i s s t i l l here as long as one can hear what he says"; ten years l a t e r he becomes "the strong smell of fresh wet greenery, of growth, a sound of strong r a i n h i t t i n g 45 dust, the sun on a drenched tree." The images are of l i f e , power- f u l examples of natural, immortal things, organic, and redolent of l i f e , warmth and wetness—and very sensual. And perhaps the memo- r i e s keep her from f e e l i n g "deprived," although i t i s d i f f i c u l t to understand what she means by that. 73 This d i f f i c u l t y i s compounded because, unlike Anna, Martha separates the elements of her l i f e ; except with Thomas, sex i s ex- perienced outside intimacy; a f t e r abandoning her own c h i l d , she mothers and befriends other people's children; her communism i s practised i n a non-revolutionary s i t u a t i o n at a non-revolutiionary time; and i n s p e c i f i c s o c i a l protests, such as the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament, her int e r e s t i s peripheral, though constant. It i s as though she r e a l i s e s that when her i n d i v i d u a l i t y i s attacked from one d i r e c t i o n at a time, i t can be defended successfully. Her love a f f a i r , which combined r e l a t i o n s h i p , love and sex, was broken up by external forces, and she never had another. As a r e s u l t , Martha's relationships are casual, affectionate, and l i m i t e d . When she wants sexual attention, she goes to see Jack, a young man she meets i n London; when she wants good t a l k she seeks out Mark Coldridge; when she wants family closeness, she surrounds her s e l f with the Coldridge clan and i t s minimal intimacy. Her pre- ference for solitude makes her a strong self-contained i n d i v i d u a l i s t , and gives her a freedom from other people and i n s t i t u t i o n s which she uses to induce a state of abstraction, of psychological fantasy, i n order to transcend the conscious l i m i t s of her mind. In t h i s way, she 'tunes-in' to an extra-sensory perception of great pain and great beauty, which makes her one with the unity of mankind i n i t s s u f f e r - ings and joys. It i s an impersonal oneness however, for she does not accept, i n spite of her Marxist-Communist background, Marx's premise that the fundamental need of human beings i s "companionship." Thus her experience of joy and suffering seems abstract and unfelt; 74 she needs no community, just as sex for her becomes a means of mere pleasure or of assuaging another's needs. Through Martha's discovery, Lessing's study of the i n d i v i d u a l conscience i s resolved. The holocaust destroys possessive i n d i - vidualism and i n d u s t r i a l capitalism and permits the emergence of a new community which i s inherently moral—and a personal voice i s no longer necessary. The resolution i s highlighted against the two major symbols of the novel: the c i t y and the garden. The f i r s t i s created through Martha's imaginative v i s i o n ; the second emerges through the patterns i n the novel. Both c i t y and garden are primary human endeavours to tame the wilderness (human and natural), ^hey impose organised, highly h i e r - archic relationships on each i n d i v i d u a l unit, yet are also highly in d i v i d u a l i s e d , for without order and i n d i v i d u a l expression they quickly return to t h e i r natural state. Predating the age of posses- sive individualism, they have become t r a d i t i o n a l symbols of man's relationship to nature and h i s eternal struggle to create order out of chaos. Thus they represent s o c i a l organisms against which i n d i - viduals must continually assert themselves. For, as described i n the novel, the systems are p a t e r n a l i s t i c and benevolent, and thus 46 seductive against change and growth. Because of i t s sensuality, aesthetic beauty, and eternal re- currence, the garden i6 a place i n which l i f e i s sated by the senses. The c i t y , on the other hand, i s an i n t e l l e c t u a l and r a t i o n a l exercise. In the visions of Martha and Mark Coldridge, i t i s c i r c u l a r , and ap- pears to be organic:, created ex n i h i l o and without a h i s t o r y . Under 75 a hierarchy of gardeners, the design i s orderly and harmonic while relationships form a moral whole; fo r i t i s a place i n which plants are grown "exactly" i n r e l a t i o n s to buildings and to each other, and where men l i v e i n harmony with each other. The roads which lead to the centre of the c i t y enter through four gates ? which are i n exact r e l a t i o n with each other, symbolising the balanced, c i v i l i s e d world. Each gate comes to symbolise a facet of c i v i l i s a t i on; but when one gate i s explored i n i s o l a t i o n from the others, i t becomes a means to single-minded power whose virtues are bartered i n the marketplace. The gates are those of sex, l i b e r a l p o l i t i c s , a r t , and science and technology. Without moral l i m i t s , sex becomes a system of so- phisticated pimping and p r o s t i t u t i o n , and i t s r i t u a l s depersonalise and dehumanise i t s devotees. It i s a travesty of intimate r e l a t i o n - ships. In l i b e r a l p o l i t i c s , well-intentioned Socialism becomes just another repressive regime when disorder increases. Again, no a r t i s t i n the novel has any r e a l talent or even s e l f - d i s c i p l i n e , so that art degenerates rapidly into a documentary journalism or a popu- l a r i t y contest. It f a i l s to explore anything of moral, p o l i t i c a l , or sexual si g n i f i c a n c e , or to give any moral guidance. And the fourth gate, science and technology, i s found to he neither morally neutral nor pure, but sold to the highest bidder. Science without morality, and without a r t , love, and p o l i t i c s , i s deadly enough to produce the holocaust. To continue the metaphor of the v i s i o n , the c i t y f a l l s to barbarians, and the memory of i t s wholeness i s warped by the conquerors into a s p i r i t of conquest and empire. 76 The gates therefore symbolise the loss of i n d i v i d u a l i n t e g r i t y through tfhe grim pursuit of power without morality. The analogy to the four elements of love i s i n s t r u c t i v e , for morality i s 'found®& only when the four gates are i n balance wittii each other. The meta- phor and destruction of the c i t y therefore providefa potent image of the f a i l u r e of contemporary human i n s t i t u t i o n s to create a moral world. So by withdrawing herself, Martha avoids the commitment and eventual monomania that result from a one-tracked drive to power. She i s not, however, t o t a l l y immune, for her self-possession enables her to transcend t r a d i t i o n a l means to power only to f i n d another. It also exacts a t o l l . The f i f t h "gate" uses Martha's intense individualism i n the urgently f e l t need to explore her mind, and thence the mitidcar the c o l l e c t i v e and even the future. By d e f i - n i t i o n , only Martha can discover her own psyche, which can be done only i n an intensely s o l i t a r y operation,win which other people are a d i s t r a c t i o n . Thus her commitment to psychological knowledge removes her from r e l a t i o n s h i p i n almost a l l senses. Casual contacts are at f i r s t possible, but even these die away for they bring tensions and c o n f l i c t s of another world and make demands on her c-emotional l i f e . With the t o t a l demands of the s p i r i t u a l l i f e , the tuggings of i n t i - mate relationships are a luxury which she can i l l - a f f o r d . And t h i s i s the end of Martha's quest; one which has a l l the connotations and significance of a r e l i g i o u s journey, with i t s im- perative toward the ancient needs for salvation and revelation and such desires as "release from the burdens of the f l e s h . " The r e l i - gious nature of her quest becomes clearer through reading, for ex- 77 ample, about the quest for the Holy G r a i l by the Knights of the Round Table, for there are i n t e r e s t i n g p a r a l l e l s . In Keith Baines' rendition of S i r Thomas Malory's t r a n s l a t i o n of Le Morte D'Arthur, for example, there i s the following declaration as the knights begin t h e i r long search?! For the nature of t h i s quest i s the challenge of e v i l which each knight must transcend i n order to pa r t i c i p a t e i n the holy mysteries which God s h a l l vouchsafe to the righteous. Each knight, however, i s commanded to t r a v e l alone, and so the fellow- ship and community of the Round Table i s broken. Si m i l a r l y , Martha moves alone into the world, and successfully challenges the e v i l s of power and f a l s e commitment; and she i s up- held i n her quest, l i k e S i r Galahad, by seeing a mystical v i s i o n at i t s conclusion. Unlike him, she performs no p u r i f i c a t i o n s or miracles because she i s not s i n l e s s . The two quests are, however, very simiS l a r . The nature of the G r a i l provides the most important difference, and symbolises the loss of s p i r i t u a l unity between God and man i n Martha's world. S i r Galahad seeks for unity with God through the mystical body of Christ trans-substantiated i n the v i s i o n of the G r a i l ; and i t s appearance symbolises h i s earthly death and the union of h i s soul with God. It i s thus a highly personal experience. Marth'a G r a i l , however, i s impersonal, for she seeks a union with the whole of mankind through a mystical kinship of minds and s p i r - i t s . And, i l l u s t r a t i v e perhaps of her age, Martha's quest i s with- out the joy and s p i r i t u a l conviction of the central mystery of t r a d i - •*There are echoes here of Lessing's desire to defeat e v i l ; see above pp. 63-64. 78 t i o n a l r e l i g i o u s a s p i r a t i o n . The lack seems appropriate, however, for a society of in d i v i d u - a l s which no longer celebrates i t s common humanity. Defining worth i n terms of property and wealth, i n d u s t r i a l capitalism has destroy- ed a common s o c i a l purpose. The r e s u l t i n g a l i e n a t i o n between those who own property, and are therefore free, and those who do not, must be transcended and revolutionised^ i n order to regain a s p i r i t u a l community. But Martha f e e l s that man cannot do t h i s by himself. Her prophetic, even mystic v i s i o n brings the hope of a s p i r i t u a l revo- l u t i o n which creates new and hopefully more human rela t i o n s h i p be- tween men and women. This i s surely a r e l i g i o u s quest. The r e l i g i o u s theme i s woven throughout the novel i n several ways: f i r s t the surname Quest, and then through the given names of the most important characters: Thomas, Martha, Mark, Francis, Paul, Joseph. A l l of these people are named for Christians who had enor- mous influence on the r e l i g i o u s l i f e of t h e i r Christian t r a d i t i o n . The thread issstrengthened during Martha's self-imposed i s o l a t i o n to "explore her own being," for she i s conducted through the Stations of the Cross by the Devil, i n the H e l l of her own mind. Then she i s bound to the Cross for the expiation of her sins, or "crimes." In the l i g h t of the G r a i l story, and i n Martha's r e j e c t i o n of the temp- tations of temporal power, t h i s r i t e of p u r i f i c a t i o n i s surely ex- perienced to enable her to f i n i s h her quest. An in t e r e s t i n g footnote i s that Rome refused to recognise the legend or r e a l i t y of the Holy G r a i l , for fear that i t might encou- rage and foster 79 any separatist tendencies that might exist i n B r i t a i n , for the legend claimed for the Church i n B r i t a i n an o r i g i n well- nigh as i l l u s t r i o u s as that of the Church of Rome, and indeg pendent of Rome. In the same way, the B r i t i s h Establishment f i r s t refusesit'o accept, and then harasses and persecutes those who, l i k e Martha, continue to pursue t h e i r investigations of t h e i r psychical powers and the universal mind. Her v i s i o n i s r e l i g i o u s i n nature. But the nature of Martha's quest for self-understanding and possession, and thence unity with mankind, i s surely one r e s u l t of a view of man as a competitive, s e l f - interested i n d i v i d u a l . The r e s u l t i n g loss of community, and i t s earthy warmth of disinterested human tough and recognition,leaves only extra-sensory perception as a means of contact. This imperson- a l i t y can be seen i n Martha a f t e r she receives her r e v e l a t i o n . Like S i r Galahad, who dies into the Body of Christ, she seems to lose substance. Descriptions of her l i f e a f t e r she has loosed most of her attachments to other people make her seem enervated, s o l i t a r y and grey, even though Martha f e e l s psychologically that t h i s i s her great- est time. As a physical being, she hardly seems to exist; rather she appears to be a wandering, almost disembodied s p i r i t . Her "con- science" has guided her away from the organised c o l l e c t i v e altogeth- er, and although she i s engaging i n highly suspect investigations, the society leaves her a l o n e — a s though she moves around unseen. The disembodiment would seem to suggest that i t i s relati o n s h i p s , whether close or distant, which give a person her corporeality and concreteness. As Martha finds a l l her needs f u l f i l l e d by her own psyche she has l i t t l e need of others. 8o After the holocaust, Martha finds a different kind of relation' ship which vindicates her quest and the r e l i g i o u s essence of her visions Once the fear of eradiation death has passed on the island off Scotland where she now l i v e s , l i f e seems subdued, 'pastel-col- oured,' and without c o n f l i c t or human drama, but i t i s highly mystical: Sometimes i t seems that inside ordinary l i g h t shimmers another kind of b r i l l i a n c e , but very subtle and delicate. And the texture of our l i v e s , eating, sleeping, being together, has a note i n i t that can't be quite caught....There i s a trans- parency, a c r y s t a l l i n e gleam.^9 Not only are the new-born children recipients of benign mutation, but there i s a special enchantment within the community. In awe Martha writes: " I t was as i f the v e i l between t h i s world and an- other had worn so thin that earth people and people from the sun 50 could walk together and be companions." Even more importantly, the island receives a v i s i t from strangers who are different from "any people we had known—though some of us had dreamed of them.... It was from that time, because of what we were t o l d , that we took 51 heart and held on to our b e l i e f i n a future for our race." The tone of writing i s that of that of Christ's n a t i v i t y with i t s re- l i g i o u s blessing and promise; the people have received a revelation and a conviction of salvation. Relationships thus become mystical rather than human, so that the need for "individual conscience" i s superseded. The natural leaders are moral beings who would seem to have e f f o r t l e s s l y pre- vailed over the possessive nature of man and the marketplace, and to have obviated the need for sceptical judgement. Or perhaps, as 81 i n the ambiguity of a dream, Martha i s k i l l e d i n the holocaust, so that the f i n a l journey i s part of the v i s i o n , for the ransom of seeing the Holy G r a i l i s death and the transmutation of the body. I t remains true, however, that Martha i s one of those people with a "crack," and i s waiting for something. She i s "a typedof per- 52 son, not yet admitted to the general l i t e r a t e consciousness." Nevertheless, the novel i l l u s t r a t e s the loss of emotional and s p i r i - t u a l commitment i n "relationshof exchange between proprietors i n the marketplace." Martha thus epitomises another of Anna's observations, though i n a different context: "That's what's wrong with us a l l . A l l our strongest emotions are buttoned up, one aft e r another. For 53 some reason, they're irrelevant to the time we l i v e i n . " Anna cares deeply about that; to the contrary, Martha i s i n d i f f e r e n t . Thus Lessing*s two women, Anna and Martha, who surely represent two sides of the same coin. Middle class, possessiveivo i n d i v i d u a l - i s t s , the women are involved i n thei r society, and act as sceptical f o i l s for the f o l l i e s of the p o l i t i c a l and aesthetic scene. But the i r responses towards that world are very different: one public, one private. Again, each i s resolute i n maintaining her in d i v i d u a l - i t y i n t a c t , either through an i l l u s i o n about the nature of her commit- ment, or through withdrawing from intimacy altogether. For they learn that the necessary loss of individualism within such r e l a t i o n - ships destroys t h e i r autonomy. In the context of MacPherson, they f e e l that any alienation of themselves diminishes t h e i r worth and value. But despite the i r Communist idealism, they are caught within the marketplace d e f i n i t i o n of society as fragmented, alienated sales- 82 women. Within t h i s context, even intimate relationships di s t o r t the individual's need for unity, and compromise his or her freedom. Thus Anna's longing for naivety i s a nostalgic© relinquishment of her r e s p o n s i b i l i t y toward her s e l f , and i t explains her yearning when talking to Saul: "What's my strongest need—being with one man, love,«aU31 that. I've a r e a l talent for i t . " Later M i l t rea- sonably comments: "Love i s too d i f f i c u l t . " Anna: "And sex too 55 cold." ^ Alienated sex, that i s , and Anna knows i t through long experience. Martha prefers to experience sex outside relationship„ u n t i l the pleasure f a i l s , and then neglects i t e n t i r e l y . She recog- nises the alienation, and separates her emotional and i n t e l l e c t u a l l i v e s , and becomes less 'human' as a r e s u l t . Yet that enables her to move onto another l e v e l of being. On the other hand, because she i s involved,/Annans f a i l u r e to move into unity and beyond the nature of her society and her posses- sive individualism i s consequential. I t makes her a much more human character than Martha, wKose^Usmall personal voice" i s f i n a l l y so im- portant to the c o l l e c t i v e . Anna wants to re-form society and i t s web of relationships while Martha wants to transcend i t , so that only Anna t r i e s to i l l u s t r a t e John Dewey's assumption on i n d i v i d u a l i t y : "Assured and integrated i n d i v i d u a l i t y i s the product of definite 56 s o c i a l relationships and p u b l i c l y acknowledged functions." T e i l - hard de Chardin's self-possession i s possible within such i n d i v i d u a l - i t y . Martha's individualism i s closer to that found by Koenrad S. Swart: Young Hegelians...preached a complete emancipation of the i n d i - 83 vidual amounting to a form of anarchism and n i h i l i s m . . T h e i r excessive individualism...left i t s impact on the Marxian utopia promising the free development of each as the condition of the free development of all.57 In providing such a free development for others, Martha becomes a l i e n - ated, and Lessing's commitment as an a r t i s t i s seen to have created characters who become spokesmen, not individuals. Though both Anna and Martha were born into the bourgeoisie, they are each searching for ways to escape from marketplace morality, with i t s emphasis on "Freedom as a function of possession." But they cannot avoid possessive individualism because that i s t h e i r c u l t u r a l and i n t e l l e c t u a l heritage, and t h e i r escape route therefore turns them increasingly inward to t h e i r own subconscious, and away from the community.* *In a review written on Lessing's The Summer before the Dark, E l l e n Cronan Sose makes t h i s observation: Lessing's "insistence on the im- portance of the individual makes her a humanist, but i t i s a neo- humanism, a v i s i o n of disparate individuals i n a disintegrating web of meaningful s o c i a l relationships. Just as George E l i o t was unable to imagine a society unregulated by h i e r a r c h i c a l patterns of marriage and s o c i a l r e s p o n s i b i l i t y , so i s Lessing incapable of seeing beyond individual redemption."58 8 4 David Storey The loss of community and of intimacy, and the prevalence of alienated sex are issues which are also explored by David Storey; 1 f i r s t i n This Sporting L i f e i n which they are associated with the 2 weakening of working class values; then i n Radcliffe, i n which Storey returns to the roots of Protestantism. Because these two novels use the njilieu of the working class or the s p i r i t u a l descendents of the f i r s t Protestant gentry, possessive individualism i s not strong. Storey's characters are largely victims of i n d u s t r i a l capitalism and i t s associated alienation. This i s true even of the Radcliffe familyV-. for the commercial society has seriously distorted the re l i g i o u s roots of early PProtestantism. Both novels are concerned with the weakened traditions of community which were at one time capable of nurturing a good relationship. In This Sporting L i f e , the community values are further impaired when marketplace success i s uncontrolled by a moral sense. Their decline i s also emphasised when i t appears only as a weak conscience, and by the fear of commitment to deep relationship. During the f i r s t years of i n d u s t r i a l i s a t i o n , however, working class community and i t s conservative s o l i d a r i t y provided an essential bulwark against t o t a l alienation, u n t i l the marketplace pressures began to enter i n d i v i - dual relationships. Both novels are very class-conscious, and i n Radcliffe i n part- i c u l a r , there i s a relentless though b l i n d class c o n f l i c t of prole- t a r i a t against bourgeoisie. Storey even conforms to the class assump- 85 t i o n that workers are people of muscle power, while the gentry are cerebral. The intensity of the c o n f l i c t , however, i n which vast human and physical energies seem to be engaged i n a d i a l e c t i c struggle, i s only an i l l u s i o n . For i n neither novel does either class seem viable, principled, or the bearer of much moral energy. Much of the a c t i v i t y i s wasted, spent either through a struggle for power within the group, or exploited on behalf of others' wealth and power. As a consequence, the visions of both groups have become i n - creasingly ingrown, narrow and impotent, while t h e i r members are correspondingly thwarted i n their individual l i v e s and within t h e i r intimate relationahips. The introduction of universal education has sig n a l l y f a i l e d to give either class a broader outlook, or a moral vi s i o n of l i f e and society. In a word, people have been alienated from th e i r roots. Relationships i n these novels r e f l e c t t h i s state, and also the loss of compassion and understanding i n a society domi- nated by money and the desire for power. The lack of v i s i o n and imagination i s c r u c i a l in,This Sporting L i f e , because though i t s pro- tagonist, Arthur Machin, i s trying to become independent of the class structure, he i s unable to stand free of the inherent moral or economic principles and mores. The tension of t h i s struggle makes his relationships more self-conscious, and they ultimately f a i l . Like Fowles and Lessing, therefore, Storey focusses on a mar- ketplace society i n which everyone i s a "salesman." Sexually, peo- ple behave without feeling or consideration for others, and aire trapped within the commercial relationship:. Sex thus becomes an- other alienating force, perhaps the most important i n the novely. and 86 cannot be f u l f i l l i n g or unifying. Machin and Mrs. Hammond i l l u s t r a t e c l e a r l y Marx's insight that alienated sex " i s not the s a t i s f a c t i o n of a need, but only a means for s a t i s f y i n g other needs." 3 Like many contemporary novels, This Sporting L i f e i s written i n the f i r s t person, a subjective and necessarily l i m i t e d point of view. The techniqueoserves to i l l u s t r a t e the s t o r y t e l l e r ' s l i m i t e d understanding of himself as well as of others, thus undercutting his story with irony and ambiguity. The f i r s t person strategy becomes awkward only when the vocabulary and a r t i c u l a t i o n have to carry more complex ideas than are to be expected of a man who l e f t school at fourteen, and who l i m i t s his reading to American pulp novels. Yet, although the descriptive passages are not strong, the v i s u a l quality of the novel i s powerful; the dialogue carries the major responsi- b i l i t y for t h i s i n i t s spare but evocative language. A rough-playing rugby professional and lathe operator, Arthur Machin i s a young man of great physical strength and cunning, but i n - experienced i n love and i n close relationships. He i s not promis- cuous; and remains f a i t h f u l to one woman. He also avoids his mother's propensity to f e e l shame and scorn for those members of her own class who do not conform to her sense of propriety (taken from the Protestant ethic: "She thought everybbdyy was i n most ways respon- s i b l e for how they were." ). Machin i s more tolerant of difference because he has loosened his working class t i e s a l i t t l e , but he f a l l s into the emotional trap of pity for which he demands the payment of gratitude. Pi t y makes him possessive. It also makes him arrogant«once he begins to earn extra money 87 through playing professional rugby. But he i s mentally unprepared for and emotionally ill-gquipped to manage the sudden acquisition of money; though he does cope adequately with the milieu of middle- class mores and game-playing into which he i s swept. He keeps his feet at the rugby club because he feels compelled to maintain his iden t i t y as a working man by retaining his job at the lathes' He also keeps his digs with Mrs. Hammond i n a poor part of town near the fac- tory. She i s a pathetic, young, and proud widow with two children, very l i t t l e money, and a pair of boots i n memory of her late husband placed for reassurance i n front of the hearth. By attempting to l i v e i n two s o c i a l worlds, however, Arthur faces the disturbing i n - security of belonging to neither, and i s without the inner capacity to create h i s own.* The relationship which slowly evolves between Mrs. Hammond and Machin i s based f i r s t on mutual need; he needs a room and board, she needs the money. Exploitative on neither side i t i s cautiously f r i e n d l y , for t h e i r needs make them equals and they accept each other as they are. The balance begins to s h i f t with Machin's new status as a rugby player and c u l t u r a l hero. A new world opens for him; for the f i r s t time i n his l i f e , for example, he can be f i n a n c i a l l y gene- rous; but t h i s he discovers creates i t s own tensions. Feeling sorry for Mrs. Hammond, he begins to put pressure on *The s o c i a l insecurity i s common to many post-war working class f i c - t i o n a l heroes who have found that the B r i t i s h class system i s not an open i n s t i t u t i o n . This novel i s more unusual than most tjecause Machin does not want to move into the middle class. Instead, he t r i e s to create a new pattern of behaviour within the working class so that he can remain i n his familiar s o c i a l milieu.) 88 the landlord-tenant relationship. When she refuses to take his new status seriously, he stops seeing her as a shy, quiet, hurt woman, and arrogantly interprets her non-interest i n him as apathy which can be changed. He desperately needs to be praised 'in his new role and confirmed i n his new i d e n t i t y , and the pressure for recognition i s f i r s t applied through the medium of hard cash. He buys a big car, a t e l e v i s i o n set, and other expensive presents, but instead of grat- itude, they ultimately arouse i n Mrs.HHammond a narrow but deep per- sonal strength, and a pride i n her class. Because his increased f i n a n c i a l assistance i s given i n presents instead of higher rent,, she feels threatened; she suspects Arthur's g i f t s to be a trap, a form of charity which she scorns, or one demand- ing favours. Thus she i s not r e a l l y surprised when Machin puts fur- theropressure on her to have sexual intercourse, the ultimate recognition as a person. Unable to accept his g i f t s as a mark of esteem, Mrs. Hammond i s burdened by an obligation she cannot repay, and so she accepts that second d e f i n i t i o n of women Machin angrily recognises: motherhood and pr o s t i t u t i o n . The relationship there- upon becomes a commercial transaction. Miss?. Hammond's resulting sense of l i a b i l i t y begins to destroy any feeling she might have had for Machin. A victim of possessive individualism, she i s a proprietor of nothing of marketplace value save her own body. I t s alienation? however, runs counter to her l i f e and self-respect, and the resultant moral struggle colours t h e i r lovemaking, which becomes mechanical and unfeeling. Rather than being spontaneous or lovingly anticipated and prepared f o r , i t be- 89 comes a "routine," a commercial a c t i v i t y . The thread of alienated sex i s clear, as Machin uses i t as a way to force her to acknowledge his existence. Mrs. Hammond i n s t i n c - t i v e l y understands his emotional blackmail, but she refuses to com- promise her feeling for intimacy. By introducing the marketplace ±& into t h e i r relationship, Machin destroys t h e i r companionship, and they fight and become resentful towards each other. In order to avoid the moral collapse of her l i f e , Mrs. Hammond imposes certain "rules" and adopts a matter-of-fact style of i n t e r - course. Machin i s sensitive enough to see that she suffers i t : "She thought, I imagine, there was no alternative. She didn't care. It normally happened once a f o r t n i g h t . " 5 Seemingly, Machin does not care much either; i t i s as though the ef f o r t to get her regularly into bed i s enough. The relationship has thus changed from one of respect to that of marketplace exchange, and Machin i s emotionally unable to a l t e r that sense of bargaining. And even though Mr. Hams& mond's boots disappear from the hearth (surely a symbol of her wish for love and friendship, as well as her moral c o n f l i c t ) , Machin i s too impressed with his success on the rugby f i e l d to understand i t s significance, and thus why she remains so unhappy. On the other hand, he does know that he i s behaving badly; that he i s l i k e "a big ape given something precious to hold, but only squash- ing i t i n my big, clumsy, useless hands. I couldn't even apologise." But he turns the perception on i t s head by blaming her for his s o c i a l insecurity because 4ke w i l l not give him emotional roots. Her hoped- for response w i l l , herthinks, confirm his hew identity by making him 90 f e e l loved; and because he knows her i n t e g r i t y , i n s i s t s that he i s 7 not 'buying' her love. Using sex as a means to an end, he desper- ately hopes that Mrs. Hammond w i l l give him the emotional reassurance that he i s "human" because loved for himself. When she asserts her g own needs, therefore, he turns brutal and s t i f l i n g l y possessive. Machin's blindness about the deteriorating relationship i s hand- led well through the f i r s t person viewpoint; despite h i s f a i l u r e to grasp Mrs. Hammond's needs, he reports f a i t h f u l l y everything she says and does, thinking that i t j u s t i f i e s his attitude,even as i t high- l i g h t s his own callousness and cruelty. By ignoring common gossip, he exposes Mrs. Hammond to the neighbourhood i n her most vulnerable area of self-respect which i s the basis of her pride. I t i s here that she shows her greatest strength, using community t i e s as a pro- tection against emotional exploitation by Machin. Her shreds of s e l f - respect, working within the pressures of her working-class environ- ment, eventually confront her with a choice: either she keeps Machin, accepts the community's moral condemnation and i t s s o c i a l ostracism, or he must leave. In a scene actively shared by her neighbours, Mrs. Hammond chooses the second alternative: community, not alienated relationship. Machin's orientation towards the totem of money i s also i n - fluenced by the conduct of Rugby Club members and their hangers-on. The clubhouse i s a place where money and influence t a l k , and r e l a t i o n - ships are a means to manipulate others. The permissive behaviour and easy sex also provide a l i f e pattern which i s quite different from that known by workers. Arthur reverses the two l i f e s t y l e s : within 91 his own class, he acts on the basis of sexual permissiveness; within the middle class, he honors a more stringent standard of sexual mo- r a l i t y . Out of his element i n that class, for example, he i s very embarrassed when the wife of the Club's managing director casually suggests that they have sexual relations one afternoon. Cursing him- s e l f for his propriety, he cannot bring himself to accept her off e r . Somehow the thought of Mrs. Hammond intrudes to prevent his betrayal of t h e i r relationship, for he i s not promiscuous by nature. This lo y a l t y to his landlady i s seen and derided by outsiders, but she does not and w i l l not believe i t . Their general i n a b i l i t y to exchange feelings and fears contributes to her desperation, so that his continuing f a i l u r e to recognise her misery becomes c r u c i a l to her decision to terminate t h e i r relationship. She becomes his lodestone, and though Machin loves her i n his own way, he f a i l s to declare i t . And he never perceives her morality. Through his acts of generosity and through his remaining with her, he expects her to assume how he fe e l s , and to accept him i n good f a i t h . He also imposes an a l i e n morality on her, for he i n s i s t s that his wealth safely enables him tosaignore t r a d i t i o n a l mores, and he offersaMrs. Hammond no other alternative. Her neighbours, he suggests, are merely jealous and small-minded. The option of marriage i s c u r i - ously, never mentioned, possibly because she fears a state which carries a strong commitment but which has brought her nothing but cares and worries. And Machin has established a sexual pattern with her which i s s u f f i c i e n t for h i s emotional needs. Marriage to Mrs. Hammond would also have made his mother unhappy. 92 She i n s t i n c t i v e l y knows that Mrs. Hammond i s a different kind of woman: "That's what I mean when I say Mrs. Hammond's no good...no good for you. She's l i k e something that's l e f t over. You could 9 never be happy." Without ambition and refusing Machin's alienating l i f e s t y l e , Mrs. Hammond threatens the world of market re l a t i o n s : she prefers the world of community of the past. Mrs. Machin fears her, and portrays her as an " e v i l " influence because she thinks that love i s a f i n i t e measurable quantity. In her reasoning, the more Machin loves Mrs. Hammond, the less he loves his mother. And she blames Mrs. Hammond for t&at transfer of affection, thus f a i l i n g to understand the landlady's sense of true relationship and morality. As he i s a loner with "No feelings. I t ' s always helped to have 10 noi?f eelings," other people do not influence Machin very much. Thus he continues to take Mrs. Hammond for granted, steering an e r r a t i c course between the black and white morality and general concern of his parents, and the alienated sex of the clubhouse. Several aspects of Machin's handling of relationship are now clear. On the rugby f i e l d , he i s dependable and l o y a l to the team; and with the club owners, he i s business-like. Those without money, however, he t r i e s to dominate. Old Man Johnson, for example, i s poor but gave Arthur his entry to professional rugby. Once no longer use- f u l , he i s eas i l y discarded. Again i t i s her poverty which makes Mrs. Hammond vulnerable and her f e i s t y refusal to be dominated g a l l s him. Money gives him a sense of power and o"f being i n control which she never acknowledges. Because she remains f a i t h f u l to a t r a d i t i o n of l i f e which i s neither alienated nor uncommitted, Machin gives her 93 his working class respect even when his success alienates her. Thus the c o n f l i c t between his marketplace success and the remnants of his working class traditions p a r a l l e l s h i s i i n n e r s t r i f e ; and t h i s interferes with his capacity to understand Mrs. Hammond's commitment to companionship and a love relationship. Thus Mer insight into his motives and his i n s e n s i t i v i t y has l i t t l e impact on him: "You're not f a i r to me, Arthur. You just say whatever comes into your head—to make ifie f e e l I should be grateful....You use me. You don't treat me l i k e . . . I should be." 1 1 And again: "You treat me as i f I didn't e x i s t . I'm just nothing, to you....Anything I do you knock down. You won't l e t me l i v e . You make me think I don't e x i s t . " 1 2 Emotionally she puzzles him, for she keeps her distance from him i n spite of a l l his g i f t s and demands: I'd never seen her much as a person. She didn't want to be seen. Her l i f e , while I'd known her, had been taken up with making herself as small, as negligible as possible. So small that she didn't e x i s t . That was her aim....It was mainly t h i s I resented. I wanted the r e a l Mrs. Hammond to come popping out....She was withdrawing and l y i n g down. I hated her for„it... Nothing counted any more. Not even me.1^ The resentment and hatred are important clues to his possessive treat- ment of her, for Machin assumes that her experience of him i s the same as his . of her. Yet he sensies d i f f e r e n t l y . When his mother speaks against Mrs. Hammond, Machin sp i t s out desperately: "Mothers, mothers. Always mothers. Women are never anything but mothers. There's never a wife been born y e t l I hate a l l these bloody pothers and their stinking brats. Can't women be anything without kids, kids, a l l the time,,?' You're not just animals. Mrs. Hammond—she's a woman. Somewhere she's a woman."1*f As she i s never treated as a woman but only as an object, Machin can 94 hardly expect her to act l i k e one. Blind to the morality of his situation and ignorant of intimacy, he uses the ethic of business and the marketplace i n which the fulcrum of relationship i s money and power. His working class roots have been weakened, and he t r i e s to manipulate and exploit her, just as the small-town i n d u s t r i a l i s t s and businessmen of the d i s t r i c t manipulate the i r workers and th e i r peers; and just as Machin i s exploited on the rugby f i e l d to be, not a man, but a winning machine. Mrs. Hammond real i s e s the implications of a relationship between unequals, but the struggle to rebalance the l i a i s o n i n order to keep f a i t h with herself <#'ips her apart. After her death, his loneliness brings some insights into t h e i r relationship. He feels a compassion for herekhich i s untinged with s e l f - p i t y or sexual need. However li m i t e d , t h e i r b r i e f friendship has enabled him to grow; to acknowledge his need for fame, and to recognise the estrangment i t brings; to learn that caring for some- one includes small domestic tasks, or acting ass a father to two fatherless children. He also r e a l i s e s that he has grown dependent upon the relationship to give him i n t e g r i t y , to "make Himl feel© 1 5 whole and wanted." And so he remains f a i t h f u l to Mrs. Hammond. His loyalty prevents him from abandoning his class, or of finding casual sexual s a t i s f a c t i o n with other women. In the Marxist sense, she teaches him that sex without loving communion i s destructive of community and relationship. So he philS- sophises after her death: Living was a formality to be got through without looking too closely....I was on the move a l l the time, u n t i l I f e l t l i d driven a l l feeling out of my body, and i t just acted l i k e i t ' d 9 5 been trained....It was wrong to be alone, and I reckoned I didn't notice. I t o l d myself I'd been right a l l along; I had no feelings; I t was no good acting any longer as i f I Bad.''6 There i s an echo here of Anna Wulf: " A l l our strongest emotions are buttoned up, one after another. For some reason, they're irrelevant 17 to the times we l i v e i n . " And again, the words are an echo of an 18 e a r l i e r insight of Machin's that he i s "paid not to have feelings" on the rugby f i e l d , or i n the factory. One i s faced with the truth that a society which pays a man not to have feelings at work cannot expect him to be different at home. Close relationships between a man and a woman cannot be expected to endure under such pressures. The friendship between Arthur and Mrs. Hammond thus flowers tentatively, only to be fr o s t - b i t t e n by his alienation, impatience, i n s e n s i t i v i t y , and emotional ignorance, as well as by her fears of commitment to another man. It i s largely his f a i l u r e , however, so that her death comes to appear as his r e s p o n s i b i l i t y . For her de- ci s i o n to disassociate herself from Machin exacts a t o l l of her s p i r i t , and makes her want to be even more "negligible" than before. Gradually she loses her w i l l to l i v e as, forced to confront the issues that the relationship w i l l increase her alienation from both Machin and her class, she becomes a l i v i n g wraith. Machin's com- panionship and emotional support was valuable, but the price tag of his excessive demands on her f r a i l trust taxed a l l her remaining w i l l . In truth perhaps, the relationship i s doomed almost before i t begins; i n i t i a l l y because of Mrs. Hammond's mistrust of men, and then of her emotional exhaustion and fear. "I can't l e t my feelings go. 96 Not again. Not to have them cut off l i k e Eric...and everything gone, 19 i n one person, and dead. I want to be sure." Any threat to her f r a i l damaged psyche could be mortal because i t pierces her attempt to be self-protective. Even the merest hint that E r i c committed suicide i s threatening, as i t brings back the g u i l t y fear that she never made him "belong," as though his death was her f a u l t . Like Anna Wulf, Mrs. Hammond finds that shecis vulnerable—no longer i n - tact, as Hollo May phrases it 7-without her man. Her v u l n e r a b i l i t y d i f f e r s from Anna's however, for i t i s not only the security of being loved which has gone, but her a b i l i t y ever to trust and love again. Her very capacity to enjoy l i f e i s f i c s t eclipsed by Eri c ' s l i f e , and then his death. She becomes doubly vulnerable to ali e n a t i o n . Machin act i v e l y hinders her wary acceptance of him both i n his overbearing approach and i n his way of l i f e . His ideas about women, for example, are immature and stereotyped, largely gained from pulp novels with lascivious t i t l e s ; t h e i r heroes are boxers or b u l l - fighters wiiith 'machismo' who inevitably and e f f o r t l e s s l y have volup- tuous "samples" to "comfort" them after t h e i r exertions i n the r i n g . There seems to be no sex i n these novels. His reading leaves him unprepared for the sight of Mrs. Hammond's shabby underwear, and his reaction i s one of nausea. A further contrast i s provided by her reaction to his lovemaking: "Her body began to mount i n a slow f i t — of rage and bewilderment. Surprise. 'You're a man!' she screamed. 20 'You^re a bleeding man!'" "Samples" are not supposed to have feelings, l e t alone be re- pulsed by t h e i r man, but Mrs. Hammond knows that once more her inte - 97 g r i t y has been violated. A l l her l i f e , she has struggled to be what other people needed her to be: a daughter to look after her father; a wife to E r i c when he offered her a release from home; a mother to two children; then to "suffer" Machin. I r o n i c a l l y , though hot sur- p r i s i n g l y , she feels that her happiest days were spent making bombs during the war. So Machin 1s alienating behaviour i s the l a s t straw, and i t a s s i s t s gossip i n making her his " s l u t . " Having a dishonest way of l i f e imposed upon her leaves her with no recourse but to re- t a l i a t e by accusing him also of sleeping around. Indeed, he never l e t s her be herself. Mrs. Hammond i s thus not a possessive i n d i v i d u a l i s t . Nor i s she alienated from her working class t r a d i t i o n s . For her, freedom i s not a "function of possession"; i t i s instead a freedom to be herself, however dowdy that might be, and the i n t e g r i t y to refuse to be exploited by alienated sex. She i s thus an anachronism i n the marketplace; for she views possession of her body as a function of morality, of self-respect, rather than something to be exchanged. Her d r i f t into a form of p r o s t i t u t i o n therefore i n i t i a t e s a mortal c o n f l i c t within her soul. She i s battered, but neither b i t t e r nor beated. She can even tease Machin gently about his need for admira- tio n for she i s other-oriented. Machin only comes to that kind of self-awareness while looking after her i n the hospital: I f e l t elated—an elation compressed by some bitterness and self-reproach, as i f , at l a s t , r e a l l y a.t l a s t , I'd got hold of something which before had always slipped my grasp, and which I wasn't too clumsy to hold. Now i t was r e a l , and held mea I was no longer alone. 2 1 And i t seems that the memory of other-orientation l i e s behind his re 98 refusal to engage i n further alienated sex. Modern relationships are t r i c k y things. Through possessiveness and alienation, Machin brings tragedy to his closest friend, and i s o l a t i o n and friendlessness to himself, so that the tone at the end of the novel i s one of his being "finished," tooobilld and " l e f t over," as though he wexe repeating Mrs. Hammond's l i f e . For l i k e her, his w i l l to l i v e and love has been damaged, and with i t his preference for a f a i r game. And without the humanising effect of a relationship, Machin becomes more of a machine, ready to do the bidding of the rugby game but without emotional commitment or enthusiasm. The kind of possessive demands Machin makes on his association v/ith Mes. Hammond are repeated more extremely i n Storey's second novel, Radcliffe. Love i s sought and experienced not as a founda- tio n for a relationship, but as the means to a transcendent r e l i - gious triumph; a means to overcome the physical l i m i t a t i o n s of the body i n order to end the Cartesian s p l i t and unite body and soul. I t i s a more extreme resolution of the s p l i t that Anna Wulf t r i e s to heal. And unlike The Four-Gated City , i t i s not a r e l i g i o u s novel of r e c o n c i l i a t i o n between man and God through love, for grace and ab- solution are gained only through murder and madness. The main theme i s thus much more ambitious than that i n This Sporting L i f e , and i t explores the distortions which occur when an intense conviction of absolute f a i t h i s imposed on a relationship. Possessive individualism of modern capitalism plays l i t t l e or no part i n t h i s novel. The morality of Radcliffe i s founded upon the r e l i g i o u s fanaticism of the seventeenth century, when the i n d i - 99 vidual was part of and responsible to God and God's community. None- theless, even a cursory acquaintance with the relationships i n the novel makes i t clear that they are extremely possessive. The novel demonstrates that with the "disappearance" of God, a man's funda- mental need for s p i r i t u a l i t y or diviriMjsy must be rooted elsewhere; here i t i s found i n , or extracted from, other human beings. Oneness, the unity of s p i r i t with f l e s h , i s also found through other people. The potential for possessiveness i s thus high and very destructive, for the demands made on others to give up thei r substance are abso- l u t e . And s i g n i f i c a n t l y , sex becomes a "means for s a t i s f y i n g other needs." Told i n the form of a r e a l i s t i c novel, Radcliffe has touches of the surreal, of the the Kafkaesque, and of heavy symbolism. A black dog, for example, appears each time the relationship between the two protagonists moves to a more s p i r i t u a l i s e d l e v e l , and be- comes increasingly menacing. There are also strong overtones of D. H. Lawrence, p a r t i c u l a r l y i n Leonard Radcliffe's assertion that homo- sexual love i s f i n a l l y moreiimportant than heterosexual love. And the several wrestling bouts which occur between Leonard and Tolson p r i o r to intercourse are much adkin to those between Gerald and B i r k i n i n Women i n Love. Radcliffe i s an h i s t o r i c a l novel, engaged i n the broad sweep of s o c i a l and re l i g i o u s change of three hundred years. The contem- porary protagonist, Leonard Radcliffe, embodies that change. His complex character mirrors the far-reaching effects of c a p i t a l i s t industrialism on Protestantism, a dis t o r t i o n which also explains the 100 confusion i n his portrayal.in spite of the many allusions compar- ing him with Oliver Cromwell. For? unlike the Lord Protector, Leonard i s a man without a conscience, and he has a streak of b e s t i - a l i t y which can only be accounted for through the impact of indus- t r i a l i s m . Often grotesque and macabre, the story concerns the Radcliffe family i n the twentieth century—the decaying, degenerating remnant of successful seventeenth century forebears. The novel traces i t s dissolution, which i s both endemic within fehe family and imposed upon i t through a confrontation with the raw but. oddly u n v i t a l en- croachment of the working class. The sketch of an alienated society i s v i v i d here. Cut off and alienated from the roots of i t s past, the g.prjoletariat has become a dead weight, and must f i n d a spurious history i n order to function. Thus the warmth, humanity and pi t y of Storey's f i r s t novel are almost completely absent; they are replaced by i s o l a t i o n , a curious kind of l i v i n g through others, and the p i t i - less thrust of absolutism. I t i s also more abstract, as i t attempts to carry the energies and r e l i g i o u s f a i t h of Cromwellian Puritanism into the secular, s p i r i t u a l l y a r i d twentieth century largely through the l i f e and experience of Leonard Radcliffe. The epigraph of the novel, Yeats* poem " V a c i l l a t i o n " , Part VII, brings the two eras into dramatic tension. The Christian impera- t i v e , Yeats believes, i s to exalt the s p i r i t over the body i n order to f i n d salvation and immortality. In contrast, western man's pagan heritage g l o r i f i e s the immortality gained through man's physical stregg'th i n war. Thus, Yeats contends, pagan man enjoyed l i f e , while 101 the Christian loathes his mortality, finding his f l e s h a barrier between himself and God. Storey attempts to combine these two heroic strands of western experience (pagan and Christian) through Oliver Cromwell, a man who was both Christian and warrior and who f e l t that he had gained revelation and unity with God. Thus, before moving into the discussion on relationships i n R a d c l i f f e , i t would be useful to deal with the persistent references to Cromwell i n the l i v e s of Leonard and his father, John Ra d c l i f f e . Cromwell i s described by John's brother Austen as a man who "oould act. He was the complete puritan. The one whose g u i l t 22 matched his ambitions." He himself puts t h i s another way: "That a man never mounts higher than when he knows not whither he i s 2 3 going." More s i g n i f i c a n t l y , John describes 'Cromwell, as being, cap- 2k able of acting " p o l i t i c a l l y and r e l i g i o u s l y i n the same event." Above a l l , Cromwell's puritanism ensured that his r e l i g i o n was one of th i s world, enacted i n cooperation with God, rather than waiting for intervention by a deus ex machina. Like a l l Puritans, he claimed a s p e c i a l , personal relationship with God. At f i r s t , his p o l i t i c a l and personal success was assumed to confirm such a relationship, but i t was rapidly corrupted by his v i c t o r i e s : "His doctrine of providences slipped over easily into a 2% theory of j u s t i f i c a t i o n by success," ' comments biographer Christopher H i l l . And as a member of the gentry who f i r s t championed the cause of the common people against a g r i c u l t u r a l enclosure, he rapidly changed his views when those same commoners began to interfere with his notion of property. Thus he was both a master of ideological 102 compromise between conservative and r a d i c a l elements, and a ruthless enemy of democratic tendencies i n his New Model Army. Convinced of his election to Heaven, and that his acts were God's w i l l , he could act " p o l i t i c a l l y and r e l i g i o u s l y i n the same event." So he k i l l e d I r i s h Catholic " i n f i d e l s " i n the name of Christ using the r e l i g i o u s issue as an excuse to conquer Ireland for t a c t i c a l reasons of Eng- land's security. Such a conviction seems absurd i n the twentieth century, and Austen recognises this'when he t e l l s John that such militancy i s not to be expected i n the present century: "But there have been evan- g e l i s t s before, despairing of t h e i r v i s i o n . Singers without a song," he continues. Together, however, John and Leonard come close to Cromwell's v i s i o n . Both men are absolutists, despairing of mankind's abuse of i t s own society, but finding "hope" or "reassurance" i n that despair. Both also l i v e as by i n s t i n c t , and with a conviction of predestination. These two Puritan q u a l i t i e s encourage a capacity 27 i n them both to wait/f l i k e Cromwell, "on events,—or on the Lord." The decisive difference between John and Leonard, however, i s that John "waits "on the Lord" while Leonard waits "on events." As a man of the gentry, John continues to care for property and the family, for the family church and house (the Place), and he follows Cromwell's i n s t i n c t towards tolerance. Leonard, on the other hand, exploits h i s tolerance i n order to f u l f i l l his need for the abso- l u t e . Like Cromwell, his idea of l i b e r t y i s strained. H i l l writes that Cromwell i n s i s t e d that the rights and l i b e r t i e s of Englishmen came before those of other nations. Thus he j u s t i f i e s h i s invasion 103 and brutal treatment of the I r i s h as necessary to maintain the lustre and glory of English l i b e r t y i n a nation where we have an undoubted right to do i t , wherein the people of Ireland...may equally participate i n a l l benefits, to use l i b e r t y and fortune equally with Englishmen, i f they keep out of arms. And s i m i l a r l y with the Scots, Here i s the theory underlying Leo=a nard's l a t e r treatment of Victor Tolson, and the p o l i t i c a l base of his b e s t i a l i t y , In the same way, Leonard feels that he has a direct relationship with a power which enables him to move outside conventional author- i t y : thus "the success of a virtuous human being i s at once his v i c - 29 tory and the victory of divine grace working i n him." Further, Leonard i l l u s t r a t e s seventeenth century puritanism i n i t s f e l t ne- cessity to f u l f i l l the divine law, s t r i v i n g after an elusive perfection, which from time to time suffuses one's whole being with a happiness and confidence more than human* and makes mere legal righteousness seem petty and i r r e l e v a n t . Hence the tense e f f o r t , the self-confident elation when things were going w e l l , the desperate feelings of g u i l t i n defeat.3" w^-nQ l a s * ; This l a s t quotation c l e a r l y illuminates Leonard's visions at the close of the novel. This digression has been long but necessary i n order to c l a r i f y certain character t r a i t s i n Leonard, and also to throw l i g h t upon Leonard's relationships with his family and with his friend Tolson. As a transposed Puritan, he knows that mere human l i f e must be sub- ordinated to the revelation of a relationship with a higher power. But contemporary Puritanism i s more closely i d e n t i f i e d with a work ethic than a powerful r e l i g i o u s force. And i n a world of r e l a t i v e morality, i n which God "isscloser to being a superstition than an 104 object of awe, Leonard's search for an absolute i s cl e a r l y disrup- t i v e . Just as Cromwell f a i l e d to deal with radicalism and the resur- gence of monarchism without impasingg tyranny, so i s Eeonard forced to impose his v i s i o n of the truth when others f a i l to acquiesce i n i t . The consequences for relationship are considerable. Throughout the novel, Storey c a r e f u l l y demonstrates some of the changes that have occurred i n English society since the interregnum: organised r e l i g i o n i s a r i t u a l i s e d empty church, f i l l e d with r e l i c s and dedicated to an absent God; the once governing aristocracy i s symbolised by the ancestral l a d c l i f f e home, where the estate has been b u i l t up with workers' houses, and the house i t s e l f i s under- mined by the tunnels of industry; and the n o b i l i t y and gentry have lo s t t h e i r status, and have married into the lower classes ( l i k e John), or symbolise barrenness and even a r i d i t y through the practice of celibacy or homosexuality ( l i k e his brothers). In addition, Puritanism has l o s t the conventional regulators of conscience, such as g u i l t and the s o c i a l obligations of feudalism, but has retained the anxiety and insecurity contained i n the Car- tesian s p l i t between body and soul. Like Anna Wulf, Leonard fears the disunity, but he i s the one foredoomed to redeem i t by resolving the paradox of being separate yet united within himself through the medmum of a relationship. The t r a d i t i o n a l relationships of the novel are not strong. There i s a sense of d e b i l i t y and weakness, as though the Radcliffe family knows i t s e l f to be doomed to physical extinction i n the male l i n e . Leonard, John's only sbnld.isia curious c h i l d : a l l the omens 105 of his f i r s t year generate conversations which predestine him for an unusual fate, chosen to dramatise the struggle between body and soul. He even has a 'baptism' when the ' d e v i l ' of f l e s h l y needs re- linquishes his hold. For a year his l i f e was i n doubt. I t was l i k e someone resent- ing an intrusion: there seemed to be a resistance to l i f e i n that s l i g h t , straggly and perpetually flushed body, a tenacity almost greater than the w i l l to breathe. For days he would vomit his food, crying whenever he was touched, as though re- fusing to accept any sustenance of reassurance. 31 At the end of his f i r s t year, he begins to gain strength; " I t was as i f he had accepted the intrusion of l i f e and given i t reluctant 32 accomodation." From b i r t h as a r e s u l t , Leonard* i s presumed to be a predomi- nantly s p i r i t u a l man, and his physical health continues to be weak and vulnerable. This changes only when he meets a worker's son named Victor Tolson. Here i s the central, intimate relationship of the novel: Leonard as boy and man of t i g h t l y controlled i n t e l l e c t u a l and s p i r i t u a l power, though physically weak and undisciplined; and Victor, a person of great physical powers which are controlled by an i n s t i n c t i v e compassion^and a gentleness which make him sensitive to his capacity to hurt others. Their individual t r a i t s form a balance and a whole. This theme of complementarity i s repeated several times i n the novel, p a r a l l e l i n g the Cartesian-Puritan s p l i t , and extending i t throggh individuals to the society. Thus John does not carry through as an heir of Cromwell. He only acts r e l i g i o u s l y at the conception of Leonard, who i s said to represent John's "con- fession" of the sins of the f l e s h . Leonard carries out the accom- panying p o l i t i c a l act. 106 The class system manifests the same s p l i t : tT.ohn turns to the lower class for companionship, as does Leonard; while Tolson re- verses the position by exerting his influence over people of a higher s o c i a l status (even Blakely has pretensions to an a r i s t o - c r a t i c past). At the same time, the customary d i v i s i o n of society into two sexes i s often denied through homosexuality, as though the author: " wishes to exclude resolving the body-soul s p l i t through conventional relationships which tend to celebrate the heart, not the soul. In combination, a l l these div i s i o n s , i n t e l l e c t u a l , emo- t i o n a l , s o c i a l , re-emphasise Yeats' thesis, and underline the desire for unity. Given such a complex base, i t follows that a l l the r e l a t i o n - ships i n the novel are singular, that between Tolson and Leonard more so than the others. Being between two men, t h e i r mutual love i s consummated through homosexual relations which Leonard sees as a creative act: "You've got to accept that there i s a love that exists between men which i s neither obscene nor degrading, but i s as powerful and as profound, and as f r u i t f u l , as that love which bears ch i l d r e n . . . i t has a subtlety and a f l e x i b i l i t y , a power which creates order...law, a r t , p o l i t i c s , r e l i g i o n : these are the creation of men as men."33 But the c r e a t i v i t y of th i s relationship i s distorted by Leonard's Puritanism and his own nature. He creates only through violence, and his art, law, and r e l i g i o n are violent distortions of the Christian philosophy of love. As the only son of the only gentry family i n the neighbourhood, Leonard becomes increasingly isolated and secluded, and comes to fee l that for him, normal relationships are denied. There i s some- 107 thing unnamed, "threatening," and alienating within himself: 'M think there's an element i n us which refutes and condemns our understanding of ourselves, as i f perversely we're deter- mined to be damned. I think that's the key to everything. This i s ahoalienation of the i n t e l l e c t and soul, not of an economic system; i t was f i r s t forced upon him by other boys' envy and sus- picion of his i n t e l l e c t u a l superiority, and the i r scorn of his phy- s i c a l weakness. Their aggressiveness against him forces him to turn inward, and he finds i n his soul the Puritan penchant to "an i n - scrutable sense of g u i l t . " The g u i l t , however, i s not personal but on behalf of humanity, and therefore abstract. Thus Leonard uses his individualism hot to celebrate but to transcend his separateness i n order to f i n d salvation. The early Protestant b e l i e f i n a higher morality, however, i s no longer rooted i n the f a i t h i n a transcendent God, so that his res u l t i n g s p i r i t u a l possessiveness becomes secular, self-oriented, and destructive. His family relationships are also affected, for his need for salvation separates him from them: his parents' strange awe of him leads him to withdraw into an i n s t i n c t i v e reserve and emotional coolness, which creates a further barrier to normal family a f f e c t i o n . Leonard's s o l i t a r i n e s s makes him insensitive to others. His mother sorrowfully notes that "Leonard, i t seemed, had not pene- trated her feelings at a l l , but simply her method of fe e l i n g . I t 35 was alarming. As i f he, at the centre, f e l t nothing." I t i s as though the more Leonard withdraws from customary relationships, the more other people become abstractions. Almost everyone becomes sub- sumed i n his passion, so that when John accuses his wife S t e l l a of 108 placing a barrier between herself and her son, she can only respond with a heartrending honesty: "How can I cut myself off?...How can I? He's the only person I've ever known who has gone through the whole of l i f e without forming one single relationship. You can't cut- yourself off from that. How can you separate yourself from something that doesn't exist?"3° Though not quite accurate, for the relationship with Tolson i s passionate and strong even when i t i s f i n a l l y perverted, she i s also essentially correct, for the competititiveness of the al l i a n c e des- troys i t s life-enhancing p o t e n t i a l . Neither man i s other-oriented; they both use sex as a means of subduing the other, and see each other c h i e f l y as the embodiment of a p r i n c i p l e . A victim of the Puritan imperative for perfection, Leonard thrusts his relationships out of the realm of personal f u l f i l l m e n t into the transcendent. Because he.-r i s an a r t i s t , his v i s i o n i s narrow. He has an obsession with smallness, with minute drawings and abstract, geometric figures. Distancing himself from both family and society, he demonstrates as fa r as he can the Christian disgust of the f l e s h , and t<nve3parallel conviction®of the superiority of the soul. The burden of the twentieth century Puritanism i s that o r i g i n a l s i n remains without the p o s s i b i l i t y of forgiveness. This loss leads Leonard's " s p i r i t " to search for unity with another man's "body" i n order to create a new vi s i o n of man. Such an abstraction of a prine<= c i p l e , however, i s possessive; and i t binds the ensuing relationship to the stake of doctrine. I t also dehumanises the ind i v i d u a l person by denying q u a l i t i e s such as compassion, joy, and even fear. Further, 109 Tolson's refusal to conform and submit to Leonard's v i s i o n of love forces Leonard to take possession of Tolson i n order to create unity.* Tolson's refusal i s a result of his equally uncompromising search for the absolute. Representing Yeats' pagan man whose pass sionate desire to l i v e for glory has been deformed by the a r i d i t y of the twentieth century, he has a history of strange, and pa r a s i t i c yet symbiotic relationships. He i s f l e s h alone, finding his unity through l i v i n g on the s p i r i t u a l i t y of others which i s usually ab- sorbed through sexual intercourse. The perverse relationship which i s established, however, i s one which his victims covet, as though i t reassures them of their capacity for s p i r i t u a l i t y . Blakely, a previous victim, i s a caricature of a man: emotion- a l l y grotesque and hollow, he has committed incest with his daughter (also a prey of Tolson), and has been convicted of sodomy with Austen. He says about Tolson: "Vic sees everything i n terms of v i c t o r i e s , of his assimilation of other people....his only r e a l pleasure Somes from over- powering people, swamping them, and after that he can just pat- ronise them...lWhy, us tal k i n g here...is a l l the result of a deliberate plan of Tolson's...Not deliberate...No, i t ' s a l l intuition....That's the r e a l l y monstrous, the r e a l l y destruc- t i v e part of i t l Intuition!"57 He goes on: "Do you r e a l i z e , for example, that i t ' s s p i r i t u a l things Tolson seeks to possess most of a l l . Things he can't acquire through his own temperament. He's bound to attack, to consume people *This dehumanisation which results from the application of a theore- t i c a l p r i n c i p l e without regard for the human beings involved i s l i k e justice without mercy. By extension, i t sets the pattern for the alienation of an i n d u s t r i a l society. 110 i n whom he recognizes some sort of s p i r i t u a l quality. And naturally, they're the ones who are most vulnerable to his physical sort of energy."3° Allowing for Blakely's pride i n having had a s p i r i t u a l quality to be consumed, the absolute nature of Tolson's needs are clear. His pos- sessiveness i s equal though opposite to Leonard's, and once he has consumed^ his victims, Tolson manipulates them i n a kind of sado- masochistic connivance, to gain power over his next victim. Symbolised by the somewhat t r i t e image of the powerful motor- cycle, Tolson, l i k e Leonard^; does not recognise established morality. He follows another ethic: "He has t h i s passion to do things abso- 39 l u t e l y . . . . a man who destroys things out of his affection for them." Curiously, though Tolson's possessiveness i s different i n kind from that of Clegg of Machin, i t shares with theirs the need to feed on others' emotional and s p i r i t u a l resources. Tolson's recognition of s p i r i t u a l i t y , however, i s debased. He consumes the a r i s t o c r a t i c pretensions of men l i k e Blakely, who are compelled to f i n d evidence of a long-lost heritage of position and status to give themselves roots and a viable i d e n t i t y . They bare the bankruptcy of the p r o l e t a r i a t , whose roots have been alienated by the i n d u s t r i a l system. At thessame time, t h i s spurious s p i r i t u a l energy seems to be the only remaining source of c u l t u r a l v i t a l i t y , so that Tolson seems to be a p u r i f i e r even as he comes to represent the breakdown of the century-old proletarian s o l i d a r i t y . For he symbolises the f a i l u r e of the workin^gclass community to withstand the d e s p i r i t u a l i s a t i o n 6"f i n d u s t r i a l capitalism. His pagan v i t a l i t y has degenerated to dominating other people, and i t i s symbolic that 111 he i s swept up by a s p i r i t u a l force much stronger than his physical frame can withstand. Even i n a secular century, the Puritan strength of purpose s t i l l has the magnetic power that cannot be resisted by the de s p i r i t u a l i s e d man. Thus the quest for relationship between Tolson and Leonard becomes a struggle for supremacy between two absolutes that are rem- nants of philsophies long bankrupt? but which s t i l l r e t a i n an im- portant hold on society. One i s physical, with i t s pagan dependence on force; the other s p i r i t u a l , with i t s transcending love. Their mutual love i s complicated and f i n a l l y controlled by the intentions of each man to dominate the other; and they cannot understand one another. For Tolson wants to f i n d glory and passion through carnal love, while Leonard wants to unite body and sould. through trans- cendent love. The relationship i s complementary i n one other way: Tolson i n - h i b i t s Leonard's propensity to commit uncontrolled violence. When his friend i s absent, Leonard can kick a man into bloody in s e n s i b i - l i t y , and have no compassion about causing mental inj u r y . Neither does he f e e l g u i l t . There i s an eerie amorality about him, as though being predestined releases him from r e s p o n s i b i l i t y for his actions. Or perhaps his b i r t h has expunged both his father's g u i l t and his own, because his own inner moral authority does not admit s i n . As his mother recognises, t h i s f a c i l i t y makes him a dangerous man, for he cannot care for other people and i s insensitive to th e i r needss His behaviour i s also inconsistent, as he recognises: he i s "some- times scarcely controllable," and sometimes very " i n e r t . " 112 Both t r a i t s are incompatible with close relationship, and Leonard's demand for power makes any intimacy fraught with tension and c o n f l i c t . The Puritan penchant for absolutes, and the need^for a relationship with a transcendent God drive him into a l l i a n c e s ^ which become power plays, a kind of bartering of commodities: Tolson's body for Leonard's s p i r i t u a l v i c tory. His emphasis on the abstract also prevents the development of a deeper relationship. Even sexuality i s translated into a higher good: Leonard's passionate needitp love Tolson "as a man, as a human being," i s made on behalf of a l l mankind, thus converting an intensely personal emotion into an abstract desire. This interferes with a relationship just as much as Tolson's i n a b i l i t y to love Leonard as a man leads him only to the sexual experience. Without the r e l i g i o u s emphasis, therefore, Leonard and Tolson would practice alienated sex. Even though Tolson's compassion complements Leonard's callous- ness, and Leonard possesses th e i r common s p i r i t , t h i s mutual de- pendence does not increase the depth of their relationship. They do not learn from each other, or care about each other asr equals; they function only as competitors. The result i s a soul/flesh impasse, which Leonard comes to f e e l must be broken by the assertion of his superior s p i r i t u a l power. So he i s forced to consider and then to execute the murder of Tolson, an act which he can do bedause he has no compassion and no conscience. The clash of absolutes makes compromise impossible, and thus the friendship i s a power struggle, possessiveness i n the most ex- treme sense. This i s exemplified by Blakely, who i s a soulless 113 cipher once he has been possessed by Tolson. He i s a creature of his audience' and dependent upon i t for his roles and personality. He i s a man who needs Tolson and his working class peers to give him l i f e , i f only as a grotesque, tragi-comic clown. And i t i s no coin- cidence that he always wears a mask when 'acting' nor that he commits suicide i n the manner of the grinning mask after Tolson's death. Without Tolson, he i s d e a t h - i n - l i f e . This ruthless possessiveness creates a selfishness of depen- dency, and i s one which dehumanises both men. Thus Tolson's r e l a - tionships are usually destructive, for they result i n the despoli- ation of others, and only a temporary s a t i s f a c t i o n of his hunger. Leonard i s equally possessive; ToUson must be ready to relinquish his need i n order to f u l f i l l Leonard's. Each man, Leonard i s say- ing, must.be ready to sublimate his humanity to aihigher need, but t h i s becomes a struggle for power when there i s no longer a God to receive i t . The delusion of transcendence leads to an overturning of both secular and conventional r e l i g i o u s morality i n order to create a new God. Thus Leonard feels e l a t i o n , not g u i l t , for mur- dering Tolson who i s merely a symbol of the f l e s h to be overcome. He then masochistically imposes upon himself his impressions of the sufferings of Christ on thenCross i n order to gain Resurrection. Leonard's morality and absolute conviction of f i g h t j u s t i f y him i n murder, and he feels that his decision i s confirmed i n a r e l i - gious v i s i o n : I t seemed, to Leonard, afterwards, that the t r i a l had only been inciden t a l . The hugeness by which he was now surrounded enve- l©g)Q<&loped everything that had preceded i t , so that even Tolson's 114 death was only a d e t a i l of the vast structure by which he was enclosed. I t had a completeness, a wholeness, that dazed him, making him so exultant he could scarcely breathe. I t contained everyone and everything. I t was complete.™ The pitilessness of the absolute, the unawareness that human relar-Qa-as tionship can be something other than personal "completeness," i s contained i n s i x words: "Tolson's death was only a d e t a i l . " But i t also brings Blakely's death and then Leonard's dissolution, for he dies soon afterwards, unrecognisable, and unregretted, emaciated, consumed by his passionate w i l l . The possessiveness i s dazzling. His f l e s h has died with Tolson. The thought of Yeats* epigraph returns once more, for although the Christian f a i t h seems to be supreme with the v i s i o n of unity, Leonard's celebration of the s p i r i t has led to murder and the fur- ther dehumanisation of at least two men. Thus neither the pagan nor the Christian v i s i o n i s enough for the twentieth century. But Leonard feels j u s t i f i e d : having acted r e l i g i o u s l y and p o l i t i c a l l y i n the same event, he i s now free to lovelp to be "reconciled," and to preach "the brotherhood of man." Convinced of his sanity within an insane world, he i s certain that he alone i s moral and able to cre- ate order. He takes on the role of a Christ-figure, violent and gentle, perhaps feeling himself to be a new medium to bring recon- c i l i a t i o n between s p i r i t and f l e s h : #He touched them, smiling at 41 them reconcilingly. He could touch everything." Like Cromwell, Leonard reconciles the s p i r i t and f l e s h i n a unity, although he celebrates the f l e s h only through i t s death. Yet the absence of God i s c r u c i a l ; brought to the judgement of men, not God, Leonard finds a kind of peace, but also becomes increasingly 115 v i o l e n t . Without his relationship with Tolson as a s t a b i l i s i n g i n - fluence, Leonard cannot function. The s p l i t i n Puritan thinking, therefore, remains, and i t "maketh men mad." Christopher H i l l i s correct: "An approach to the world which i n our period [seventeenth century] produced a Luther, a Descartes, a Milton, a Bunyah, today 442 produces psychiatric cases." For Puritan man knew and depended upon his relationship to God, and therefore knew that the struggle to f i n d His purposes would f u l f i l l man; but the twentieth century 43 has no God: "we have squeezed him right out of the universe." Radcliffe thus i l l u s t r a t e s the l o g i c a l end to an absolutist, predestining f a i t h without the restraining hand of a God of love. A love which accepts men for what they are i s the missing quality of th i s novel. Relationships are therefore impossible. There i s great passion and in t e n s i t y , an urgency interpreted as love, but they are a l l possessive, serving only to dehumanise the relationship between the two men, and those between them and others. By abstracting love, Leonard feels that his love for Tolson enables him to love a l l human- i t y . I t i s a C h r i s t - l i k e wish, except that Christ never loved any one person i n order to love them a l l : he loved God f i r s t . The strong and powerful relationship between the two men thus serves only to warp thei r humanity, The relationships i n both these Storey novels project an emo- t i o n a l wasteland, a di s t o r t i o n of human feelings either through the medium of money and i n d u s t r i a l capitalism, or the desolate remnants of a Puritan morality. A relationship of other-relatedness i s de- based into hon-human sexual fornication; one i n which f u l f i l l m e n t 116 for one person results i n the dissolution of the other. And though the lu s t and emotional impermeability of E l i o t ' s wasteland have mellowed, the protagonists are l e f t more vulnerable to one another. The dominant-subordinate idiom of these two relationships creates an aura of suffocating possessiveness i n which intimacy germinates and then withers. Machin smothers Mrs. Hammond with his desperate needs, while Tolson i s murdered for another's transcendence. And each shattered relationship also breaks upothe small com- munity of which each i s a part: Mrs. Hammond and her children; Machin and Mrs. Hammond; Tolson and his family;and victims; Leonard and the Radcliffe family; and through them their s o c i a l environment. The ripples of these dislocations are a further element of the f a i l - ure of relationship i n these contemporary novels. That i s , Storey places his characters within a s o c i a l community r e a l i s i n g that be- cause no relationship occurs i n a vacuum, they have consequences be=* yond the individuals who are immediately involved. Unlike Lessing, Storey asserts that relationships bear the yokes of heritage and en- vironment, and that one cannot be "free"; that humans exist within a community. A community also carries the c r u c i a l burdens of l i f e and death, and thus i s part of the mystery of man's existence. This assertion i s not evident i n the middle class milieu of Lessing or Fowles, for the i r community has disintegrated, and the r e l i g i o u s , moral questions of l i f e and death have been shifted from the centre of l i f e . 117 Conclusion Since Marx wrote the words that introduce The French Lieu- tenant's Woman, "Every emancipation i s a restoration of the human world and of human relationships to man himself," the expectation has become increasingly i d e a l i s t i c . As these s i x novels show, eman- cipation has become a rare event, and human relationships have f a l l e n victim to alienation and possessive individualism. Only Mrs. Hammond fights free of alienated sex, and the struggle k i l l s her. Western society has continued to be the commercial enterprise that Marx perceived to be t y p i c a l of Adam Smith economics, and inevitably that iron has entered the soul of human relationships. Even Charles Smithson commits an act of alienated sex after he i s dispossessed and then alienated from his ancestral roots and the a r i s t o c r a t i c community. The p o l i t i c a l economy of i n d u s t r i a l capitalism affects every person and every relationship, either through the replacement of community by possessive individualism, or through the elevation of money over morality and r e l i g i o u s aspiration. Thus every potential relationship i n these novels turns sour. They support Marx's con- tention that alienated sex i s animal and non-human, and occurs i n the medium of the marketplace. And though Anna Wulf t r i e s desper- ately to be other-oriented, to have reciprocal sexual r e l a t i o n s , either her possessive individualism perverts the orientation to her- s e l f from the other, or her partner behaves i n the c l a s s i c market- place pattern, and the relationship then becomes u n i l a t e r a l . 118 In addition, alienated sex may end i n s p i r i t u a l or physical death for one of the partners. A l l of the novels are class-oriented, and one of the s t r i k i n g though surely unintentional s i m i l a r i t i e s betv/een the working class stories i s that Miranda, Mrs. Hammond, and Victor Tolson are a l l victims of alienation, and a l l die. More- over, the victims of the middle-class novels, Charles Smithson, Anna Wulf, and even Martha Quest, deal with alienationvthrough a narrowing of their emotional l i v e s , and a loss of emotional depth and joy. T The two women gain further human insight only at the edge of madness, while Charles becomes emotionally impotent, and a w i l l i n g celibate. The working c l a s s , i t seems, s t i l l retains an experience of com- munity, i n spite of the c a p i t a l i s t milieu. These novels appear to say that when t h i s i s violated, through alienation, a violent death re s u l t s . On the other hand, the middle class l o s t iits community with the r i s e of the bourgeoisie and possessive individualism, so that alienation results i n a loss of human substance and w i l l . This}£is also true of the a r i s t o c r a t i c Charles once he i s dispossessed. One further common feature of these novels becomes clear when they are divided 1 into classes: there are definite patterns of ex- pectation for relationship. The middle class characters, l i k e Anna and Martha, and ultimately Sarah Woodruff, are possessive i n d i v i d u a l - i s t s and prefer to develop alone. Thus relationships are expected t to aid i n personal growth, and enhance i n d i v i d u a l i t y . Working class relationships, however, are more earthy, b r u t a l , yet more sympa- th e t i c , and are f e l t to occur within a community. Ghostly though the community may be, i t s relationships are expected to give co n f i - 119 dence and emotional security f i r s t rather than the growth of the ind i v i d u a l . Clegg, Machin, and Tolson are a l l searching for assu- rance and enhancement of th e i r communal position, and only function well within a community. Both patterns, however, are destroyed by alienation; possessive i n d i v i d u a l i s t s from a f e l t inner l o s s , working class people from an extreme possessiveness. Exploring the working class idiom a l i t t l e further, i t would seem that the central concerns of human l i f e and death s t i l l occur within the context of the community. Alienation from the class brings death. Social intercourse, therfore, i s s t i l l a human ac- t i v i t y rather than a business venture. The bourgeoisie no longer have a community within which to experience the central mysteries of human existence and are thereby forced to explore t h e i r own exis- tence and to bear the burdens of l i f e and daath alone. And their denial of community brings them to experience insanity. The working class community, however, shows the s t r a i n of the commercial environment, and thi s becomes v i s i b l e through the over- powering respect for money. Aping the middle class, Clegg and Machin have had thei r sense of values warped by getting money without e t h i - c a l strings. Wealth i s t h e i r entry, they think, into an independent existence, and they begin to evade the r e s p o n s i b i l i t i e s of the com- munity at large. Riches make them possessive, and thus they do violence to those whom they love and are without the emotional strength to combat thei r possessiveness. This i s true also of Tolson, although his driving force i s the desire for s p i r i t u a l i t y . This form of possessiveness i n i t s turn accelerates the breakdown of the 120 community into individuals with a l l t h e i r best emotions "buttoned up." In the society of these novels, therefore, intimate relationship i s a victim of the marketplace. Possessive individualism, the impo- tent possessiveness of wealth, and alienated sex are a l l conse- quences of i n d u s t r i a l capitalism and some aspects of Puritanism. None of them permit reciprocal sexual relations or other-orientation because they demand the s a t i s f a c t i o n of one person, not of "co-equal subject s ." Personal morality has been converted into marketplace sex. One f i c t i o n a l exception to t h i s marketplace milieu i s Margaret 1 Drabble*s This Garrick Year. The novel concerns a middle class marriage i n which alienated sex i s t r i e d as an extra-marital experi- ment and found wanting. Yet though the experience matures both David and Emma Evans, Emma now feels what she ought to fe e l for 1 David. That i s , her spontaneity has been spoiled. The brush with the marketplace has marred the quality of th e i r relationship and thei r community. On the record of these novels, intimate relationship i s thus a rare phenomenon. I t has been one of the chief victims of the des- truction of community and the r i s e of the possessive marketplace culture. And lo s t with intimacy i s the knowledge given by Teilhard de Chardin, that the greatest possession of the s e l f occurs when lo s t i n another. 121 Footnotes Introduction 1. Raymond Williams, The English Novel from Dickens to Lawrence (London: Chatto and Windus, 1971), p.12. 2. "Notebooks," i n Karl Marx: Selected Writings i n Sociology, and Social Philosophy, eds. T.B. Bottomore and M. Rubel (London: Watts and Co., 1956), p. 71. 3. Karl Marx, "1844 Mss.," Bottomore and Rubel, p. 169. 4. C.B. MacPherson, The Theory of Possessive Individualism: Hobbes to Locke (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1962) 5. MacPherson, p. 5* 6. MacPherson, p. 264. 7. MacPherson, p. 28. 8. T.S. E l i o t , "The Waste Land," i n Collected Poems, 1909-1962 (London: Faber and Faber Ltd., 1963), P. 72. 9. John Fowles, The Aristos (New York: Signet Book, rev., 1970), p. 167. 10. The Aristos, p. 175. 11. Rollo May, Love and W i l l (New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 1969), p. 45. 12. May, p. 42. 13. May, p. 311. 14. Doris Lessing, The Golden Notebook (New York: Ballantine Books, 1968), p. 657. Chapter 1:^ John Fowles 1. Fowles, The Aristos, p. 7. 2. William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream, i n The Complete Works, ed. Hardin Craig (Glenview, I l l i n o i s : Scott, Foresman & Co., 1961, Act V, sc. 2, 11. 4-17. 3. John Fowles, "Notes on Writing a Novel," Harper 1s Magazine, July 1968, p. 88. 121 Footnotes Introduction 1. Raymond Williams, The English Novel from Dickens to Lawrence (London: Chatto and Windus, 1971), p. 12. 2. "Notebooks," i n Karl Marx: Selected Writings i n Sociology and Social Philosophy, eds. T.B. Bottomore and M. Rubel (London: Watts and Co,,}1956), p.71/ 3. Karl Marx, "1844 Mss.," Bottomore and Rubel, p. 169- 4. C.B. MacPherson, The Theory of Possessive Individualism: Hobbes to Locke (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1962). 5. MacPherson, p. 3- 6. MacPherson, p. 264. 7. MacPherson, p. 28. 8. T. S. E l i o t , "The Waste Land," i n Collected Poems, 1909-1962 (London: Faber and Faber Ltd., 1963)» P« 72. 9. John Fowles, The Aristos (New York: Signet Book, rev., 1970), p. 167. 10. RolloaMay, Love and W i l l (New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 1969), P. 45. 11. May, p.4&2. 12. May, p. 311. 13. Doris Lessing, The Golden Notebook (New York: BaMantine Books, 1968), p. 657. Chapter I: John Fowles. 1. Fowles, The Aristos, p. 7» 2. WilliamsShakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream, i n The Complete Works, ed. Hardin Craig (Glenview, I l l i n o i s : Scott, Foresman & Co., 1961), Act V, sc. a, 11. 4-17. 5. John Fowles, "Notes on Writing a Novel," Harper's Magazine, July 1968, p. 88. 122 4. John Fowles, The Collector (New York: D e l l , 1964i. Hereafter cited as T.C. 5. Whitney B a l l i e t t , "Beauty and the Beast," New Yorker, 28 Sept. 1962, pp. 192-93. 6. The Aristos, p. 10. 7. The A&istos, p. 11/ 8. T^C., p. i 4 6 . 9. T^C.^p. 38. 10. T^C., p. 99. 11. T.C., p. 8. 12. T^C. , p. 33. 13. T^C., p. '34. 1 4 . T^., p. 91. 15. T^C., p. 115. 16. T^C., p. 131. 17. The Aristos, ch. 6. 18. T^C., p. 2 4 8 . 19. John Fowles, The French Lieutenant 1s Woman (New York3i Signet Book, 1970), Hereafter cited as F.L.W. " 20. J ; H i l l i s M i l l e r , The Disappearance of God (Cambridge: Harvard Univ. Press, 1963). 21. F.L.W., p. 165. 22. George E l i o t , The M i l l on the Floss, i n Works of George E l i o t , v o l . 4 (New York: The Century Co,, 1910). 23. FffLIWy,p?.45.g» 2 4 . F.?LLWy,,p. 7. 25. F.L.W., p. 4 8 . 26. "Notes on Writing a Novel," p. 94. 123 27. Shlomo A v i n i e r i , The Social and P o l i t i c a l Thought of Karl Marx (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1968), p. o9. 2 8* F-L.W., P. 355. 29. M i l l e r , p. 229. 30. F.L.W., p. 15. 31. Quoted i n F.L.V/., p. 361. 32. F.L.W., p. 150. 33. F.L.W., p. 1 4 . 35• F.L.W., pp. 106-107. 35. F.L.W., p. ,90. 3$. F.L.W., p. 107. 37. The M i l l on the Floss, p. 178. 38. F.L.W., p. 74. 39. F.L.W., p. 1 4 7 . 4 0 . F.L.W., p. 107. 41. F.L.W., p. 181. k 2- F.L.W., p. 354. 43. E.L.W., p. 353. 44. F.L.W., p. 272. 45. F.L.W., p. 62. 4 6 . F.L.V/., p. 364. 47. The Aristos, pp. 166-67. 4 8 . William A/ Williams, "Marx and the Quality of Sex," Mimeo from the author, 1974, p. 4. Chapter I I : Doris Lessing 1. Doris Lessing, The Golden Notebook, hereafter ci t e d as T.G.N. 124 2. D.H. Lawrence, "The Real Thing," The Phoenix, ed.,Edward D. MacDonald (London: Heinemann, 1936,)pp. 198-203. 3. Doris Lessing, Each his own Silderness, Three Plays (Harmonds- worth: Penguin Books, 1968). w« 4. T.G.N., p. 4 8 . 5. T.G.N., p. 61. 6. T.G.N., p. 654. 7- T » G ' N » » P« 658. 8. T.G.N., p. 228. 9. MacPherson, p. 235. 10. T.G.N., p. 4. 11. T.G.N., p. 193. 12. T.G.N., p. 180. 13. T.G.N., p. 455. 14. Karl Marx, "Early Writing," i n Avineri, p.144. 15. T.G.N., p. 331. 16. T.G.N., p. 212. 17. T.G.N., p. 211. 18. T.G.N., p. 467. 19. T.G.N., p. 665. 20. T.G.N., p. 561. 21. B e r t e l l Oilman, Alienation: Marx* s Conception of Man i n Capi- t a l i s t Society (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1971), p. 71. 2 2 » T.G.N., P- 613. 23. T.G.N., p. 567. 24. T.G.N., p. 583. 25. T.G.N., p. 595. 26. T.G.N., p. 587. 125 27. T.G.N., p. 639. 28. T.G.N., p. 17. 29. T.G.N., p. 666. 30. T.G.N., p. 5^5. 31 .VT.G.N., p. 625. 32. Doris Lessing, The Four-Gated City (New York: Bantam Books, 1970). Hereafter cited as F.-G.C. 33.STJJGM., p. 473. 34. Doris Lessing, "The Small Personal Voice," Declaration, ed. Tom Maschlin (New York: Dutton, 1957). P« 194. Hereafter cited as S.P.V. 35. "S.P.V.," p. 196. 36. "s.p.v.," p. 196. 37. MacPherson, p. 3* 38. Doris Lessing, A Proper Marriage (New York7:> Simon and Schuster, 1966), p. 323. 39. F.-G.C, p. 185. 40. Doris Lessing, Landlocked ( B r i s t o l : MacGibbon &mKee, 1965), g° 2 p. 222. Hereafter cited as E . 41 . L. p. 115. 42 . L. p. 245. 43. "The Real Thing," p. 199. 44. L. p. 220. 45. F.-G.C., p. 216. 46 . F.-G.C., p. 139. 47.SSir Thomas Malory, Le Morte D*Arthur, rendition by Keith Barnes (New York: Bramhall House, 1962), p. 392. 48. "Holy G r a i l , " New Catholic Encyclopedia (New York: McGraw-Hill Book Co., 1 9 6 7 T 7 " V I I , P. 73. 49. F.-G.C, pp. 645-46. 126 50. F.-G.C.> p. 643. 51. F.-G.C., p. 643. 52. T.G.N., p. 61. 53. T.G.N., p. 625. 54. T.G.N., p. 625. 55. T.G.N., p. 657. 56. aiohn Dewey, Individualism—Old and New (1930; r p t . New York: Capricorn Books, 1962), p.""53»= 57. Koenrad S. Swart, "Individualism-(1826-1860)," Journal of the History of Ideas, v o l . 23, p. 89. 58. E l l e n Cronan Rose, "After Touching Rock Bottom," The Nation, Aug. 27, 1973, P. 152. Chapter I I I : David Storey. 1. David Storey, This Sporting L i f e (Harmondsworth; Mddx: Penguin Books, 1962). Hereafter ci t e d as T.S.L. 2. David Storey, Radcliffe (Harmondsworth, Mddx: Penguin Books, 1965). Hereafter cited as R. 3. Karl Marx, "1844 Mss," i n Bottomore and Rubel, p. 169. 4. T.S.L., P- 209. 5. T.S.L., P. 97. 6. SE.S.L., P. 162. 7. T.S.L., P. 163. 8. T.S.L., PP . 192-97. 9. T.S.L., P. 201./ 10. T.S.L., P. 164. 11. T.S.L., P- 144. 12. T.S.L., P. 180. 13. T.S.L., PP . 68-9. 127 14. T.S.L. , p. 209. 15. T.S.L. , P. 163. 16. T.S .L. , P. 229. 17. I.S.N. , P. 625. 18. T.S .L. , p. 164. 19. T.S.L. , p. 161. 20. T.S .L. , P. 96. 21. T.S .L. , P. 234. 22 . P. 25. 23. Christopher H i l English Revolut 24. R., P. 25. 25. H i l l , p. 136. 26. P. 25. 27. H i l l , p. 88. 28. H i l l , p. 120. 29. H i l l , P. 244. 30. H i l l , P. 243. 31. R., P. 27. 32. £.» P. 29. 33 . R., P. 345. 34. R., P. 341. 35. R., P. 187. 36. R., P- 343. 37. R., PP . 160-61. 38. R., P. 163. 39. R. , PP . 188-89. 4 0 . R . , p . 3 4 6 . 4 1 . H., p. 3 4 8 . 4 2 . H i l l , pp. 243-44. 4 3 . H i l l , p. 2 4 4 . Conclusion; 1. Margaret Drabble, The Garrick Year (Harmondsworth, Mddx: Penguin Books, 1966), p. 168. 129 Bibliography Allsop, Kenneth, The Angry Decade. London: Peter Owen Ltd., 1964. Ashe, Geoffrey. Camelot and the Vision of Albion. London: Heine- mann, 1971. Avineri, Shlomo. The Social and P o l i t i c a l Thought of Karl Marx. Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1 9 6 0 I B a l l i e t t , Whitney, "Beauty and the Beast." New Yorker, 28 Sept. 1962, pp. 1929193. Bergonzi, Bernard. 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