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Dear Edith, In The Age of Innocence (1920), you manage to do, on the level of writing, the same thing you set out to do on the…… Read more “Like an image made of snow”
Tag: Novel
You’re neither unnatural, nor abominable, nor mad
Dear John, Is The Well of Loneliness (1928) the most depressing queer novel ever written? Judging by its contenders in early twentieth-century fiction, it can be tough to…… Read more “You’re neither unnatural, nor abominable, nor mad”
I too have my vocation,
Dear Elizabeth, In Aurora Leigh (1856), you push your protagonist to make an impossible choice between two instances of her personality: her womanhood and her art. By…… Read more “I too have my vocation,”
The most wonderful thing in the world must be to be a childless widow
Dear Elizabeth, Irony is your plaything in Diary of a Provincial Lady (1930), to the point where it starts to be slightly subversive. Written as a series…… Read more “The most wonderful thing in the world must be to be a childless widow”
I should be thankful to be called a Fury,
Dear Rhoda, “A woman’s soul is such a small room”, you write at some point in your novel Belinda (1883). You will trap your eponymous protagonist in…… Read more “I should be thankful to be called a Fury,”
Before I knew I had a heart
Dear Charlotte, In Emmeline, The Orphan of the Castle (published in four volumes in 1788), we have a Cinderella-like heroine surrounded by characters who are constantly burning their…… Read more “Before I knew I had a heart”
Impossible to get out of it
Dear Carmen, In Nada, tr. Edith Grossman (2007. Original: Nada, 1944), we have a labyrinth of haunted characters confined in a haunting house in a city haunted…… Read more “Impossible to get out of it”
What if mothers refused to deny their womanhood
Dear Sibilla, A Woman, tr. Rosalind Delmar (1980. Original: Una donna, 1906) is a disturbing novella where rape, depression, suicide, adultery, and domestic violence are packed in…… Read more “What if mothers refused to deny their womanhood”
There might be nothing there
Dear Brigid, Very much like identities are fluid in your The King of a Rainy Country (1956), so the book itself refuses a label. Divided into three…… Read more “There might be nothing there”
I do not know how women do it,
Dear Júlia, In A falência (1901, “The bankruptcy”, not translated yet), I could not help but feel you were constantly hiding something in plain sight, in-between the…… Read more “I do not know how women do it,”
These women, who step out of their sphere,
Dear Margaret, Hester (1883) seems to be a deceptive title: we may be under the impression that what we have in our hands is the coming of…… Read more “These women, who step out of their sphere,”
The most beautiful and most brittle of all human things
Dear Frances, It’s a truth universally acknowledged – or, at least, in the relatively small world of your Evelina, or the History of a Young Lady’s Entrance…… Read more “The most beautiful and most brittle of all human things”
My name, here, is the name of my fracture
Dear Albertine, Astragal (1965) opens with a leap into the sky, from one kind of prison to another – but our protagonist doesn’t know it yet. The…… Read more “My name, here, is the name of my fracture”
I shall have snow on my glassy fingers,
Dear Emily, Somewhere on the threshold of a novel and a prose poem, we have The Shutter of Snow (1930). When the book starts, we are told of…… Read more “I shall have snow on my glassy fingers,”
Hers was a nature with a wide range
Dear Sarah, In The Beth Book (1897), we feel that we are reading two very different, at times irreconcilable, books: a powerful coming of age novel and a…… Read more “Hers was a nature with a wide range”
I have tried to be honest with you,
Dear Penelope, The Pumpkin Eater (1962) is a disillusioned account of a woman’s emotional collapse, told from the fog of self-delusion and depression in which her mind seems…… Read more “I have tried to be honest with you,”
You cannot live in armour all your life
Dear Maria, In Belinda (first published in 1801, revised in 1810), we can almost feel the double-edged sword you are playing with: while championing the idea that…… Read more “You cannot live in armour all your life”
Otherwise let this mad world crush us now
Dear Elizabeth, The Morgesons (1862) is that rare thing: a 19th-century novel with a sceptical, areligious, and probably amoral heroine. It reads like a modernist fiction avant…… Read more “Otherwise let this mad world crush us now”
