For our catch-all space for Well of Loneliness, I would like to briefly mention that I really appreciate the beginning of the novel. So many people still see homosexuality, same-sex attraction, queerness, etc. as devious and overtly/constantly sexual and adult in nature. Straight parents fear how they might explain a same-sex couple or a non-binary couple to their small children if the children see them out and about. I long wondered what is so difficult about saying “They’re in love, just like mom and dad are!” or “They are two boyfriends, just like your older sister has a boyfriend. They make each other happy” but then I realized they feel like they can’t explain it that way because when they see two LGBT people together, they can only think of sex and possibly the extreme pornographic images they’ve come to associate with an LGBT couple. They can only think in terms of the fear of something different and the AIDS epidemic and oppressive religious beliefs. They can’t think of LGBT people as just like themselves. They think of LGBT people and issues as an adult conversation that is inappropriate for children and teens. They can’t wrap their minds around the idea that LGBT people aren’t sex-crazed maniacs and perverts or that there could be an age-appropriate explanation of same-sex attractions and LGBT people. Yet, when they explain that moms and dads love each other very much and want to have a family together, they have no trouble explaining it just fine. Then comes in Well of Loneliness, which gives an excellent example of a child experiencing a same-sex crush that should be totally normal and appropriate to explain to another child. “Stephen likes Collins. Stephen thinks she’s pretty and unique so she wants to be around her more. The end.”… Read more »
I agree wholeheartedly with your analysis of why the beginning of the novel is so important. It makes me think of the Jagose reading, and the essentialist belief that homosexuals are born that way vs the constructionist belief that homosexuality is “somehow acquired.” I have aligned myself with the essentialist belief for as long as I can remember. It seems through your statements here that you also think this way? What validation can be given to a constructionist belief, especially with an example like Stephen?
an interesting point, Kelsey. I hadn’t thought much of it, but there really isn’t a great deal of literature out there that starts with a character in childhood. There are children’s books — The Misfits, for example — that start and end in a pre-sexual world for the young. But even those books are at the cusp of the teenage years … Well stands out for showing what it might have meant to grow up feeling differently and to try to articulate it as part of making sense of this new “identity” of the invert … It’s also one of my favorite parts of the novel — when Stephen is a child and before it gets so depressing … š
Written in the 1920s, The Well of Loneliness is the second oldest novel assigned in this course. (Next weekās Maurice, written in 1913-1914, though not published until decades later, is the oldest.) Iām curious which aspects of the social landscape described in Hallās novel you find to be (a) the most relevant to us today and (b) the most dated. And is the notion of āinversionā an example of the former or the latter?
For (b), one possibility that comes to mind are the continual references to āhonorā and ācourageā, ideas that preoccupy Stephen throughout the novel. Today these terms are largely meaningless, though theyāre used all the time.
A possible example of (a) is the insight that society tolerates only those persons it considers useful. Stephen and Mary are disapproved of in Orotava, but the locals tolerate them as long as these two āqueerā British ladies continue to spend lavishly. Concha and Esmeralda turn a blind eye to this queerness because by doing so they stand to gain financially, something they freely admit to each other (Hall 315). Another illustration of this principle is Violet Peacockās wartime attitude to āthe useless agedā, who are āeating up the foodā that she feels more properly belongs to the young since ātheyāll be needed to breed fromā (272). (What would Violet do with these old but voracious eaters? Kill them.) Or this example: Women, even āqueerā women, are more than welcome to serve in the ambulance unit in times when the usual stretcher-bearers are in short supply.
You’ve really hit the nail on the head, Stephen, especially for a Marxist critic. š I noted earlier in another post that last week that when Jagose claims that socioeconomic system changes made it possible for homosexuality to become an identity, this is part and parcel in your (a) … capitalism will use what it will use, who it will use, and where money can be made, any number of “vices” might be overlooked. At least half the arguments made about gay marriage in the US the last few years was centered on the idea that “the gays” would spend lots of money on lavish weddings and honeymoons and that denying them these “rights” was financially foolish. I think we see in Well the start of this, which is one reason I think that Hall locates the narrative in the home of landed gentry: because Sir Phillip is highly educated and has money, Stephen has options that wouldn’t otherwise be available. That issue of sexuality and “affordance” continues through most of our texts this semester: who can afford to be “queer” and who cannot? And what difference does that make in how they’re treated? As for (b), I think you’re right: honor and courage seem especially important to the heir of the landed gentry, particularly in England. Hall takes advantage of these tropes post-WWI as a way to claiming value for the butch lesbian, it seems to me: this type of invert, Hall argues, has social value, contributes to culture, art, but also to the “gentlemanly” things s/he should — helps out in the war effort, demonstrates bravery, etc. So much of what Hall seems to be doing is trying to get readers to understand that “inverts” have social value and should be valued socially. Today, those concepts of honor… Read more »
Allow me to warn: this is going to be a somewhat superficial post. As such, it will be one of my two shorter posts this evening (I will save my longer post for the invert question).
I hated this book. Really, and truly I did. To the point that I ended up skimming and researching much of it as opposed to really reading through it. At first, I thought this was because I simply dislike stories set in Victorian and near-Victorian settings (Iāve been bored to tears by everything the Bronte sisters wrote). But my outside research seems to say otherwise. Apparently this book is not very well liked. It is seen as significant historically, as it should be (and as the invert and religious discussions prove), but it is not very praised as a piece of writing or art. There was an obscenity trial over it, and although E.M. Foster (who wrote our next book, Maurice, which I am enjoying far more) and Virginia Woolf defended it on moral grounds, neither of them particularly liked the book itself. I know it is a superficial thing to discuss, but nonetheless I feel vindicated that my opinion is shared by others whose opinions count for more. And I also find it interesting and appropriate that the book is still considered so significant despite its flaws.
Yea certainly don’t feel as though you have to value all our texts for their artistic merit … many have disliked this novel for all sorts of reasons. I only read it recently for the first time and I was really taken by it. I’d avoided it for years because it was supposed to be so depressing, but when I read it last year, after reading Heather Love’s Feeling Backward, I appreciated it for theoretical reasons perhaps more than aesthetic ones … I’d have definitely advocated for Hall to edit it down a bit — it’s about 150 pages longer than it needs to be — but I always felt that way about Dreisser, too … š
See, I didn’t even find it depressing. I, like Victoria above, rolled my eyes too much and found myself too bored to be moved to any sort of emotion. This is not the case with what I’ve read of Maurice and Giovanni, though. Looking much more forward to talking about them.
I am glad you made this comment. While I didn’t hate the book as you did, I wasn’t in love with it either. I actually found myself rolling my eyes at the characters time and again (I mean, come on, Anna is blaming her lack of parenting on her daughter–I have a lot of issues with Anna).
To me, the novel started feeling like a knock-off of a Bronte or Austen novel, and then adding the notion of an “invert” character and a same-sex love interest. I dismissed a lot of story holes to the cultural expectations of the time period, as well, although many notions and interpersonal relationships seemed more dated than the 1920s.
It is interesting that the merits touted by other authors and critics come despite the flaws of the novel. Sometimes the overall message, or the ideas that an author wants a reader to consider, far outweigh the quality of writing.
I so appreciate this comment. I did NOT enjoy this novel myself. What I have found through our inversion conversations, though, is an appreciation for it. But I 100% agree that I was not a fan artistically of the novel. The only reason I put it on my list of moderator choices was because I had finished the majority of it when we were asked our preferences.
That being said, I am actually glad I was a moderator because I do have much more appreciation for the novel thanks to my classmates feedback.
I do find it refreshing for us to be able to just be forthright when we are not into a novel, as I don’t get to have that aesthetic conversation often in the academic arena!
My opinion is the exact opposite of yours, I am truly a fan of the novel! I had a love hate relationship with each of the characters, I feel they are all well developed and the plot of the novel is quite interesting! I think I base my liking of novels on mainly characters and plot, this maybe why I enjoyed this novel so much. All the questions that it leaves me with is another thing that makes it enjoyable. Though I am not homosexual (I don’t think) š I felt a connection with Maurice simply because of the relationship I had with my first boyfriend. We were not intimate and our relationship was perfect in my eyes. I would have done anything that man wanted me to do if that meant getting to be with him. This is exactly how Maurice is with Clive, he will go to the ends of the earth for him. I try to always find a way to connect to the characters, that always seems to make each piece more enjoyable!
Wait. Are we talking about Maurice or The Well of Loneliness? Because I did enjoy Maurice. It was The Well of Loneliness that I hated. Maurice actually worked very well for me. And I AM a homosexual (I think) š but I felt more of a connection with Clive, actually.
I guess my second post isnāt so much a question as an observation.
Last semester, I took Dr. Bardillās Native American literature course. When reading The Well of Loneliness, particularly regarding the issue of labeling and āinvertedness,ā it made me think of gender roles and labeling as related to Native American culture. Last semester, I was interested to learn that many (if not all) Native American tribes did not just view people as belonging to one of two genders. There were about 5 genders in cultures such as the Navajo, Cherokee, and Lakota: male, female, Two-Spirit male, Two-Spirit female, and transgendered. Two-Spirit individuals were those born of one gender but displayed characteristics of the other gender. The article on Two-Spirit is here: http://bipartisanreport.com/2016/06/19/before-european-christians-forced-gender-roles-native-americans-acknowledged-5-genders/
Labeling is so artificial, as is the classification of gender roles. As Jagose mentioned in the first part of the theory book, most people, according to researchers and theorists, are on a plane regarding gender and sexuality. How many people can identify as being totally in the realm of their āidentifiedā gender based on societal expectations? I think Iām relatively feminine, but I enjoy watching sports, I know how to drive a car with a manual transmission, I like to go fishing, and I donāt mind being out the in woods. Many of my closest female friends are farther on the spectrum of femininity by Westernized standards (they donāt like being outside, they love to shop, theyāre devoted to fashion, for instance).
I really see the relation between gender and sexuality through The Well of Loneliness. Early Native cultures seem to have a firmer grasp of how insufficient gender classification systems can be. Itās interesting that, despite how far science and medicine have come, that we still adhere to antiquated beliefs on the human condition.
I think you have brought up a good subject surrounding identity as it is divided in the Native American culture. This is such an appropriate connection drawn here! I find it interesting that identities fall on every point of spectrum – and that sexual identities do not necessarily coincide with behaviors, hobbies, and/or interests that fall out of the stereotypical realm. Just as you have mentioned, I too consider myself not very “feminine.” Instead of playing barbies with all the girls in the neighborhood, I preferred to play basketball with the guys, or road hockey. I wore jeans ripped at the knees instead of dresses, I never brushed my hair (if I could avoid it), and I believe there was always dirt under my fingernails. However, I still chased the boys while growing up, flirted incessantly, and even ventured to kiss some of the boys during the occasional “truth or dare” game! My interests growing up seemed to not fit in the stereotypical pockets that our society creates, at least as it relates to my sexual identity – and I think this is an accurate picture of how gender classifications systems should not be determined by our actions or interests. Yes, Stephen does lean toward to more “male oriented” activities, but just as we have girls who are homosexuals on this end of the spectrum, there are also “lipstick lesbians.” So it goes to show that no one should be fit into a stereotypical box that predetermines their sexual identity because of their interests, behaviors, or hobbies. Great points brought up here – thanks for sharing!
For our catch-all space for Well of Loneliness, I would like to briefly mention that I really appreciate the beginning of the novel. So many people still see homosexuality, same-sex attraction, queerness, etc. as devious and overtly/constantly sexual and adult in nature. Straight parents fear how they might explain a same-sex couple or a non-binary couple to their small children if the children see them out and about. I long wondered what is so difficult about saying “They’re in love, just like mom and dad are!” or “They are two boyfriends, just like your older sister has a boyfriend. They make each other happy” but then I realized they feel like they can’t explain it that way because when they see two LGBT people together, they can only think of sex and possibly the extreme pornographic images they’ve come to associate with an LGBT couple. They can only think in terms of the fear of something different and the AIDS epidemic and oppressive religious beliefs. They can’t think of LGBT people as just like themselves. They think of LGBT people and issues as an adult conversation that is inappropriate for children and teens. They can’t wrap their minds around the idea that LGBT people aren’t sex-crazed maniacs and perverts or that there could be an age-appropriate explanation of same-sex attractions and LGBT people. Yet, when they explain that moms and dads love each other very much and want to have a family together, they have no trouble explaining it just fine. Then comes in Well of Loneliness, which gives an excellent example of a child experiencing a same-sex crush that should be totally normal and appropriate to explain to another child. “Stephen likes Collins. Stephen thinks she’s pretty and unique so she wants to be around her more. The end.”… Read more »
Kelsey,
I agree wholeheartedly with your analysis of why the beginning of the novel is so important. It makes me think of the Jagose reading, and the essentialist belief that homosexuals are born that way vs the constructionist belief that homosexuality is “somehow acquired.” I have aligned myself with the essentialist belief for as long as I can remember. It seems through your statements here that you also think this way? What validation can be given to a constructionist belief, especially with an example like Stephen?
an interesting point, Kelsey. I hadn’t thought much of it, but there really isn’t a great deal of literature out there that starts with a character in childhood. There are children’s books — The Misfits, for example — that start and end in a pre-sexual world for the young. But even those books are at the cusp of the teenage years … Well stands out for showing what it might have meant to grow up feeling differently and to try to articulate it as part of making sense of this new “identity” of the invert … It’s also one of my favorite parts of the novel — when Stephen is a child and before it gets so depressing … š
Written in the 1920s, The Well of Loneliness is the second oldest novel assigned in this course. (Next weekās Maurice, written in 1913-1914, though not published until decades later, is the oldest.) Iām curious which aspects of the social landscape described in Hallās novel you find to be (a) the most relevant to us today and (b) the most dated. And is the notion of āinversionā an example of the former or the latter?
For (b), one possibility that comes to mind are the continual references to āhonorā and ācourageā, ideas that preoccupy Stephen throughout the novel. Today these terms are largely meaningless, though theyāre used all the time.
A possible example of (a) is the insight that society tolerates only those persons it considers useful. Stephen and Mary are disapproved of in Orotava, but the locals tolerate them as long as these two āqueerā British ladies continue to spend lavishly. Concha and Esmeralda turn a blind eye to this queerness because by doing so they stand to gain financially, something they freely admit to each other (Hall 315). Another illustration of this principle is Violet Peacockās wartime attitude to āthe useless agedā, who are āeating up the foodā that she feels more properly belongs to the young since ātheyāll be needed to breed fromā (272). (What would Violet do with these old but voracious eaters? Kill them.) Or this example: Women, even āqueerā women, are more than welcome to serve in the ambulance unit in times when the usual stretcher-bearers are in short supply.
You’ve really hit the nail on the head, Stephen, especially for a Marxist critic. š I noted earlier in another post that last week that when Jagose claims that socioeconomic system changes made it possible for homosexuality to become an identity, this is part and parcel in your (a) … capitalism will use what it will use, who it will use, and where money can be made, any number of “vices” might be overlooked. At least half the arguments made about gay marriage in the US the last few years was centered on the idea that “the gays” would spend lots of money on lavish weddings and honeymoons and that denying them these “rights” was financially foolish. I think we see in Well the start of this, which is one reason I think that Hall locates the narrative in the home of landed gentry: because Sir Phillip is highly educated and has money, Stephen has options that wouldn’t otherwise be available. That issue of sexuality and “affordance” continues through most of our texts this semester: who can afford to be “queer” and who cannot? And what difference does that make in how they’re treated? As for (b), I think you’re right: honor and courage seem especially important to the heir of the landed gentry, particularly in England. Hall takes advantage of these tropes post-WWI as a way to claiming value for the butch lesbian, it seems to me: this type of invert, Hall argues, has social value, contributes to culture, art, but also to the “gentlemanly” things s/he should — helps out in the war effort, demonstrates bravery, etc. So much of what Hall seems to be doing is trying to get readers to understand that “inverts” have social value and should be valued socially. Today, those concepts of honor… Read more »
Allow me to warn: this is going to be a somewhat superficial post. As such, it will be one of my two shorter posts this evening (I will save my longer post for the invert question).
I hated this book. Really, and truly I did. To the point that I ended up skimming and researching much of it as opposed to really reading through it. At first, I thought this was because I simply dislike stories set in Victorian and near-Victorian settings (Iāve been bored to tears by everything the Bronte sisters wrote). But my outside research seems to say otherwise. Apparently this book is not very well liked. It is seen as significant historically, as it should be (and as the invert and religious discussions prove), but it is not very praised as a piece of writing or art. There was an obscenity trial over it, and although E.M. Foster (who wrote our next book, Maurice, which I am enjoying far more) and Virginia Woolf defended it on moral grounds, neither of them particularly liked the book itself. I know it is a superficial thing to discuss, but nonetheless I feel vindicated that my opinion is shared by others whose opinions count for more. And I also find it interesting and appropriate that the book is still considered so significant despite its flaws.
Yea certainly don’t feel as though you have to value all our texts for their artistic merit … many have disliked this novel for all sorts of reasons. I only read it recently for the first time and I was really taken by it. I’d avoided it for years because it was supposed to be so depressing, but when I read it last year, after reading Heather Love’s Feeling Backward, I appreciated it for theoretical reasons perhaps more than aesthetic ones … I’d have definitely advocated for Hall to edit it down a bit — it’s about 150 pages longer than it needs to be — but I always felt that way about Dreisser, too … š
See, I didn’t even find it depressing. I, like Victoria above, rolled my eyes too much and found myself too bored to be moved to any sort of emotion. This is not the case with what I’ve read of Maurice and Giovanni, though. Looking much more forward to talking about them.
Jayde, really, I think you’re holding back š
I am glad you made this comment. While I didn’t hate the book as you did, I wasn’t in love with it either. I actually found myself rolling my eyes at the characters time and again (I mean, come on, Anna is blaming her lack of parenting on her daughter–I have a lot of issues with Anna).
To me, the novel started feeling like a knock-off of a Bronte or Austen novel, and then adding the notion of an “invert” character and a same-sex love interest. I dismissed a lot of story holes to the cultural expectations of the time period, as well, although many notions and interpersonal relationships seemed more dated than the 1920s.
It is interesting that the merits touted by other authors and critics come despite the flaws of the novel. Sometimes the overall message, or the ideas that an author wants a reader to consider, far outweigh the quality of writing.
I seldom hold anything back. š
Jayde,
I so appreciate this comment. I did NOT enjoy this novel myself. What I have found through our inversion conversations, though, is an appreciation for it. But I 100% agree that I was not a fan artistically of the novel. The only reason I put it on my list of moderator choices was because I had finished the majority of it when we were asked our preferences.
That being said, I am actually glad I was a moderator because I do have much more appreciation for the novel thanks to my classmates feedback.
I do find it refreshing for us to be able to just be forthright when we are not into a novel, as I don’t get to have that aesthetic conversation often in the academic arena!
Siobhan
Jayde,
My opinion is the exact opposite of yours, I am truly a fan of the novel! I had a love hate relationship with each of the characters, I feel they are all well developed and the plot of the novel is quite interesting! I think I base my liking of novels on mainly characters and plot, this maybe why I enjoyed this novel so much. All the questions that it leaves me with is another thing that makes it enjoyable. Though I am not homosexual (I don’t think) š I felt a connection with Maurice simply because of the relationship I had with my first boyfriend. We were not intimate and our relationship was perfect in my eyes. I would have done anything that man wanted me to do if that meant getting to be with him. This is exactly how Maurice is with Clive, he will go to the ends of the earth for him. I try to always find a way to connect to the characters, that always seems to make each piece more enjoyable!
Wait. Are we talking about Maurice or The Well of Loneliness? Because I did enjoy Maurice. It was The Well of Loneliness that I hated. Maurice actually worked very well for me. And I AM a homosexual (I think) š but I felt more of a connection with Clive, actually.
I guess my second post isnāt so much a question as an observation.
Last semester, I took Dr. Bardillās Native American literature course. When reading The Well of Loneliness, particularly regarding the issue of labeling and āinvertedness,ā it made me think of gender roles and labeling as related to Native American culture. Last semester, I was interested to learn that many (if not all) Native American tribes did not just view people as belonging to one of two genders. There were about 5 genders in cultures such as the Navajo, Cherokee, and Lakota: male, female, Two-Spirit male, Two-Spirit female, and transgendered. Two-Spirit individuals were those born of one gender but displayed characteristics of the other gender. The article on Two-Spirit is here: http://bipartisanreport.com/2016/06/19/before-european-christians-forced-gender-roles-native-americans-acknowledged-5-genders/
Labeling is so artificial, as is the classification of gender roles. As Jagose mentioned in the first part of the theory book, most people, according to researchers and theorists, are on a plane regarding gender and sexuality. How many people can identify as being totally in the realm of their āidentifiedā gender based on societal expectations? I think Iām relatively feminine, but I enjoy watching sports, I know how to drive a car with a manual transmission, I like to go fishing, and I donāt mind being out the in woods. Many of my closest female friends are farther on the spectrum of femininity by Westernized standards (they donāt like being outside, they love to shop, theyāre devoted to fashion, for instance).
I really see the relation between gender and sexuality through The Well of Loneliness. Early Native cultures seem to have a firmer grasp of how insufficient gender classification systems can be. Itās interesting that, despite how far science and medicine have come, that we still adhere to antiquated beliefs on the human condition.
Victoria,
I think you have brought up a good subject surrounding identity as it is divided in the Native American culture. This is such an appropriate connection drawn here! I find it interesting that identities fall on every point of spectrum – and that sexual identities do not necessarily coincide with behaviors, hobbies, and/or interests that fall out of the stereotypical realm. Just as you have mentioned, I too consider myself not very “feminine.” Instead of playing barbies with all the girls in the neighborhood, I preferred to play basketball with the guys, or road hockey. I wore jeans ripped at the knees instead of dresses, I never brushed my hair (if I could avoid it), and I believe there was always dirt under my fingernails. However, I still chased the boys while growing up, flirted incessantly, and even ventured to kiss some of the boys during the occasional “truth or dare” game! My interests growing up seemed to not fit in the stereotypical pockets that our society creates, at least as it relates to my sexual identity – and I think this is an accurate picture of how gender classifications systems should not be determined by our actions or interests. Yes, Stephen does lean toward to more “male oriented” activities, but just as we have girls who are homosexuals on this end of the spectrum, there are also “lipstick lesbians.” So it goes to show that no one should be fit into a stereotypical box that predetermines their sexual identity because of their interests, behaviors, or hobbies. Great points brought up here – thanks for sharing!