Tiffany,
Iâm so glad you asked these question. In Chapter fifty of the novel Hall describes inverts, âcraving for religionâ. She goes on to say that the craving of religion âsurely was one of their biggest problems. They believed, and believing they craved a blessing on what to some of them seemed very sacred—a faithful and deeply devoted unionâ. This part of the novel I am sure I understand and I am able to make a pretty in-depth assumption. Hall informs the reader that homosexuals seek religion in hopes of acceptance. They crave the same union as man and woman and they believe the only way to be blessed with that is through religion and faith.
However, there was a part on religion that confused my and made me contradict everything I thought Iâd figured out. I was reading at a good pace and then I came across the part where Hall describes âthe Invertâ and her connection to religion. Hall writes, âIt was quite true that inverts were often religious, but churchgoing in them was a form of weakness; they must be a religion unto themselves if they felt that they really needed religionâ(255). I was really confused by what Hall was implying. Was she trying to imply that church going and religion was a waste of time for homosexuals? Or the âform of weaknessâ⊠they only went in order to admit their way of life was wrong?
Hi Tiffany! Thank you for your response on this topic that I felt was consistently highlighted throughout Hall’s book. I appreciate your connection from religion and faith to the need for acceptance. It is interesting that this concept of relational acceptance is born from marriage – a marriage (at this earlier day and age) presented in the church and before God. I think we get an adequate picture of this desire for acceptance when we read of Jean and Adele’s wedding: “Jean and Adele were made one flesh in the eyes of their church, in the eyes of their God, and as one might confront the world without flinching” (Hall 393). Your points aforementioned are certainly supported in the text when Stephen draws a link between acceptance and religion. I think this aspect of acceptance can also be seen through Stephen’s exile from Morton. “Morton, that was surely Stephen’s real home, and in that real home there was no place for Mary” (Hall 336). If Stephen’s relationship is not recognized at her home before her earthly “parent/authority” how can it be accepted before her heavenly “parent/authority”? It becomes evident to the readers that Stephen really struggles with this item of acceptance throughout the novel; and that is absolutely seen as the topic of religion is dissected in Hall’s novel. As for your second point – I think you pose an excellent question. What exactly is Stephen (or Hall) getting at by implying that churchgoing was only a form of weakness for a homosexual? I hesitate to speculate, but I wonder if this is Stephen’s way of standing against the religious views toward homosexuality. If maybe she is saying “if homosexuals cannot stand against religious teachings that directly oppose our nature, than how can we expect anyone else to?” -that instead… Read more »
Hi Tiffany! I like what youâre getting at with the second point. I think we can agree that a vast majority believe that religion and homosexuality are incompatible, but I wonder to what degree this idea relies on a particular notion of identity. After all, being a Christian, for example, is not so dissimilar from being a homosexual, as they are both representative terms that one uses to describe some dimension of oneâs self: values, behaviors, etc. Iâm not sure if one cancels out or replaces the other, but I do think that the idea of homosexuality as a âreligion or faith of its ownâ is an interesting thought; it does carry its own belief systems, but those are very personal and can be defined differently: what it means to be homosexual for one person may vary greatly from the next, and the same applies to what it means to be a Christian. Just some thoughts!
Great thoughts, Brandon! I really like the way you have delved into the arena of identity as it pertains to homosexuality and/or Christianity. I think it is sufficient to say that those identities, amongst others, are certainly a part of how we would describe ourselves to others – and as you point out, this can be to varying degrees from one person to the next. Fleshing out the identity of an individual is an essential key to, I believe, the success of “finding one’s self” – what identities do we cling to, what identities do we shy from, and how does one identity, such as homosexuality, create such extreme opposition in response? Would Stephen consider herself a homosexual at the core of her identity? How does this differ from the examples that Jagose provides in “Queer Theory” when she shares an interviewee’s rejection of a gay identity (page 7 & 8)? When we consider the span of this particular spectrum, do you believe that there is a similar span mirrored in or with Christianity?
I really like the questions youâve posed to us. I believe that there is a similar span to Christianity as the one mentioned in Jagoseâs Queer Theory. I think there are those who do not abide by the church, but still regard themselves as spiritual. A person may still pray, or put their trust in a higher being without going to church. This spectrum seems to work in a sense that one can believe in god without being Christian, just as one can still have sex with someone and reject homosexuality. The characteristics that describe Christianity are not mutually exclusive to being a Christian, just as the characteristics of homosexuality are not exclusive to being gay.
Very well-put, Emily! Thanks for sharing your insightful response here! I believe you are absolutely correct in comparing the two spans and allowing Christianity it’s own spectrum – much like the “Homosexuality” spectrum! I am interested in hearing other people’s thoughts surrounding this comparison…
Tiffany-
That quote really stuck out to me, as well. I think the “weakness” might parallel the “weakness” Puddle saw in Stephen. In Puddle’s eyes, Stephen was a strong woman, yet her constant worry and constant connectedness to the emotions of the people around her made her weak. Puddle yearned for Stephen to cease worrying about the thoughts and feelings of the people around her who disapproved of her and to live for herself. In the same vein, I think Hall was presenting the invert as someone who yearned to be accepted by the church, even though the church shunned him/her. The churchgoing, then, was a weakness, a cry for approval and acceptance from an institution (and the people within it) that he or she would never receive. That’s why that need would only be fulfilled by the fellow invert and why they must be “a religion unto themselves.”
Jen,
Great points dissected here! To delve deeper into Stephen and Puddle’s relationship – how do you think Puddle was a help in times of weakness? Was Puddle relying on Stephen to be stronger than Puddle was in her youth, (given her past and her own struggles)? Did you get the feeling that Puddle wanted much more for Stephen in this life than what Puddle received?
Great questions, Tiffany. I think Puddle was key in giving Stephen a figure other than her father (and the only female figure, really) to serve as a source of love, support, and guidance. Puddle often tried to help Stephen recognize the need for her to glean strength from herself instead of the people around her. However, Puddle could have been an even stronger support had she ever had the courage to explicitly “come out” to Stephen. I think if Stephen would have realized that Puddle, too, had gone through many of the same struggles, she could have faced the world around her with more confidence and less fear. It makes me think of today’s “It Gets Better” campaign: LGBT adults letting kids know that they understand the struggle, have struggled that struggle, and that it gets better. If I had been exposed to that as a kid, I can’t even begin to think about how different my childhood may have been. Same concept for Stephen. So, while Puddle was a great source of support and love for Stephen, I found myself wishing she would have been more.
When you mention that you wish Puddle had been open about her personal struggles in life in the hope that it would help Stephen truly understand the potential for her future, it makes me wonder if this divulged secret would in fact help. I think you are correct in saying that today (in our culture’s current shift that supports LGBT), sharing is absolutely helpful for many youth trying to make sense of their sexual identity. However, given Puddle’s life – her accomplishments, her lack of (mentioned) romantic relationship(s), her legacy – do you think Puddle’s complete openness about her own struggles would have helped Stephen? It seemed like Puddle was lonely herself, and I wonder if she didn’t share everything because she didn’t want Stephen to think that her future would be as bleak as Puddle’s. I almost think that Puddle’s divulged secret would have been harmful to Stephen as Stephen looked to Puddle’s life as an accurate picture of how Stephen herself would end up. In this sense, I feel like Jamie and Barbara were a better example to incorporate than Puddle…simply because they had each other, whereas Puddle had no one.
As a side note, I do think that if Puddle was able to communicate her own struggles with Stephen, it would help Stephen work through her emotions in a manner that allowed her to realize that she wasn’t so abnormal, marked (like Cain), and/or a disgrace to society (especially from a religious standpoint). What do you (and others) make of Puddle’s silence while considering all these paradigms?
Great points, Tiffany. I think you’re probably right re: whether or not Puddle’s coming out would truly help Stephen. Puddle lived in a loneliness and with unrealized potential that might have discouraged Stephen. I do, think, however, that Stephen knowing she wasn’t alone in her feelings (especially as a child) might have been beneficial.
Tiffany, During the end of the Victorian era, the vast majority of the population, particularly the upper echelon, was Episcopalian, an off shoot of Catholicism. Within the Catholic faith there are the seven tenets of the Catholic faith, or the seven things any good Catholic should strive for. Of those, there are nuances throughout the book that elude to Stephen’s struggle to still remain, if not Catholic, at least by definition, “good”. The first tenet of respecting the human person was seen through several instances but I will mention Stephen’s wishing for Collins to be well by she herself taking on Collins’ injury. To my recollection Stephen is never seen disparaging anyone outright but seems only to be in conflict with her inner self and the image of what is expected of her through her familial religion. Another tenet of the Catholic faith is to promote the family. Before the age of IVF, surrogates and publicly accepted adoption, it was expected that well bred women have babies. The opening of the story makes it pretty clear that Sir Philip and Lady Anna Gordon were blissfully happy, and within that Utopia was the expectation that children would come. Their heartache and struggle to conceive highlights what was expected of them and that their Utopian balance depended on offspring. There was no logical way Stephen would be conceiving children and that in itself creates another inner conflict that as a woman, Stephen had to come to terms with. One other tenet I will touch on is the goal of working for the common good. Clearly, Stephen had somewhat of a self preserving side as she shunned Martin’s advances but strives to still do good for others as she sacrifices her own relationship with Mary for Mary’s benefit. In the final lines of… Read more »
You certainly bring about some interesting focuses surrounding Stephen’s life as it pertains to the religious faith of the Catholic/Episcopalian believers from the early-mid 1900’s in England. Having lived in England myself, I see where those overlaps in society still exist today – the need to respect others, the respect for family, and the need to do good within a community. I think we would say that these faith related elements exist in America as well, although to varying degrees as culture and customs differ.
I really like how you have delved into the area of Christianity and how acceptance of “an invert” in the church doesn’t seem to coincide with the tendency of Christ followers. I think you are correct in connecting the acts of Christians/the church toward homosexuality with Hall’s need to make a statement in the final lines of the book. This statement stems from Stephen’s struggle with acceptance – Hall writes, “‘Stephen, Stephen, speak with your God and ask Him why He has left us forsaken!'” (436). It becomes evident rather early in the book, and all throughout, that an invert seems to be “forsaken” in the eyes of society and in the eyes of God.
Given the last statement of the book, what do you feel is the purpose of Stephen’s verbalized struggle with believing as it is revealed throughout the novel? She talks plenty with Martin about her unbelief, yet she claims at the end that she does believe, and that she has not denied God. What do you think were Hall’s intentions of having Stephen struggle with believing in God/having a faith/following religion throughout the novel?
I think the struggle for Stephen is wanting to believe in God’s teachings as they are and wondering why God would make someone like her. There is a conflict with what the church has taught her and with who she is as a person. She is fundamentally different from what she has been taught she should spiritually be.
There is no chapter of the Bible for her to go to reconcile her feelings/attraction to women as they manifest organically. As a matter of fact, her church forbids the actual physical action, but says nothing about how and why she is made to feel the way she does about women.
The Catholic faith has very distinct examples of how someone is to live their life. There is a saint named for almost every action/inaction/feeling or lack there of. In Stephen’s case, her faltering faith can be helped by her study of St. Thomas. Hall illustrates another version of the “everyman” or “every woman” through the very common struggle with belief. Even the most modern saint (I think she has been canonized), Mother Theresa admitted doubt.
But there is no example of a saint struggling with the very real human emotion of homosexuality. I am not saying homosexuality is wrong or something that needs to be fixed. I am saying that within Stephen’s faith, she has no where to turn for guidance with what she feels and who she is. Why wouldn’t someone struggle believing in a faith that claims and demands love for all but denies her very existence?
Stephanie, Thank you for this response – I believe you really are jumping into the issue of homosexuality as it is juxtaposed against religious teachings. I myself have a problem with how the church responds to homosexuality, and how they use the Bible to justify their unkind actions toward a group of people that, I believe,God loves…just as he loves any other human being. As far as the Bible teaches, homosexuality is a sin – just like lying, cheating, anger (in some context – or maybe when our actions reflect anger and it causes us to hurt someone), and so on. When sin entered the world, the Bible shows a distinct shift in human nature because of sin…take Cain and Abel for instance. Many people are naturally jealous, struggle with sexual impurity (in all senses), are struck with rage on a consistent basis, and so forth. However, I believe that the issue of homosexuality is more of an issue with culture – or the fact that if someone is choosing to live this lifestyle, it isn’t hidden as well as jealousy or hatred can be hidden. So, from a Biblical stance, homosexuality is a sin just like every thing else, but from a cultural perspective, jealousy, hatred, lying, or cheating is much more culturally acceptable than homosexual behavior. I guess what I am trying to say is that if a jealous person is accepted in the church, and a liar is accepted in the church…how come a homosexual can’t be accepted in the church? I thought a church was for sinners to begin with – I mean, I don’t know one human being that is without sin. And as far as I’m concerned, God doesn’t weigh sins, so if this is how the Church thinks – then all people should… Read more »
Just a quick comment from me, not to ruffle any feathers, though!
I was under the impression that for the majority of the 1800s and also earlier, England was mostly Protestant and seriously hated the Catholics. I thought this was part of the problem of the Irish Famine of that era. The upper classes of England and Ireland who were Protestant and didn’t suffer during famine years hated the Irish poor and blamed them for many problems of England and Ireland. Later Americans did the same when the Irish poor tried to immigrate to survive. They were hated partly because they were Catholic and partly because Protestantism believed in something called Divine Providence that saw pauperism as punishment from God). I thought that’s why Sir Thomas More (wrote Utopia and King Henry VIII didn’t get along as far back as the 1400s-1500s. Catholics wanted the Pope in power, so the monarchy saw Catholics as traitors because the royals were the leaders of England and the leaders of the Church. I could be wrong, because this could have absolutely changed by the late 1800s, sometime during Victoria’s reign.
Either way, you’re absolutely right there is definitely this sense of not fitting an “ideal” of religion and society that permeates the novel. Even from the start, with parts of her life outside of her own control, such as her name, how she was a “surprise” of sorts, and how she takes after her father and has a sometimes jealous mother. Later he skill in hunting and horseback riding continue this pattern and she recognizes that she doesn’t fit certain ideals that are expected of women.
No ruffled feathers here(!) Yes, I agree there was religious turmoil within that era. That’s actually how the Protestant religion came about, “in protest” of Catholicism. If my memory serves, all Christian religions are versions of Catholicism, or more specifically, parts of Catholicism. Baptists from the teachings of John the Baptizer and so on.
Yes, I guess I could have been less specific and said Christianity in general as I was pointing out the Christian “blanket” with which Hall wrapped his story. But you get the general idea that the Christian religion that Stephen so wanted to live by gave her little support with what she was feeling and who she knew she was as a human being.
On a side note, I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall during King Henry VII’s reign. His twisting of position, leadership and religious rhetoric would have been a nice piece of drama to watch play out!
By mentioning âthe seven tenets of the Catholic faithâ, you give us an interesting way to think about Hallâs novel. Not being Catholic, I had to google around to find what those tenets are. (I found this link on the âSeven themes of Catholic Social Teachingâ, http://www.usccb.org/beliefs-and-teachings/what-we-believe/catholic-social-teaching/seven-themes-of-catholic-social-teaching.cfm.) To the ones you point out, I would add two others that figure in the novel. One of these is âthe dignity of workâ. Puddle is key in promoting this value by encouraging Stephenâs vocation as a writer: âYouâve got work to doâcome and do it!â (Hall 205). Another of the tenets is âCare for Godâs Creationâ, which comes into play in the fox hunt scene. Observing a fox in the throes of an agonizing death, Stephen vows there and then to ânever hunt any moreâ (127).
How/why does Radclyffe Hall use religion in the text? âReligionâ yes, but (as others in this discussion have pointed out) specifically Roman Catholicism. Hall herself was a Catholic and there are several ways that she uses her religion in this novel. I would like to suggest two. One is that she borrows from the imagery and dramatis personae of the Christian bible. Anyone who cares to flex their English-Major gene can dwell on this. Morton is the Garden of Eden. But like the other Edens in the novel (Orotava [Hall 305] and the garden at 35 Rue Jacob), Morton is a precarious one. Even its name suggests death (âmortâ is Latin for death). Sir Philip and Lady Anna are its Adam and Eve. Stephen is at various times in the novel aligned with Cain, Job, Christ, and the Christian martyr with whom she shares a name (434). Hall also borrows her religionâs paternalism. Just as God is regarded as the protector of humankind (âHe alone can protectâ, 281) and Sir Philip as the protector of Lady Anna (201), Stephen regards herself as protector of Mary (343). Stephen sees protection as a male function that she is obliged to serve in her relationships first with Angela Crossby (153) and later with Mary. Ultimately Stephenâs belief that she cannot serve that function adequately is one reason she yields to Martin in the âwarâ for Maryâs hand (425). Another way Hall uses her religion is to give legitimacy to âinversionâ. In the world of the novel (and in the world in which the novel was written), contempt for âinvertsâ was based in part on the belief that inversion was “unnatural”. More than one character in the novel uses this word in reference to Stephen (e.g., 72). In response to this belief, Stephen/Hall offer… Read more »
I am glad that you have pointed out an instinct within Hall’s writing that directly pertains to parallels in the Bible: the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve, Cain, and Stephen the martyr. Hall was purposefully creating a dynamic piece that incorporated mirrored images of the Bible and many stories explained throughout Genesis (with the inclusion of Acts through Stephen the martyr). How do you think Stephen in “The Well of Loneliness” is a contemporary “martyr,” much in the same way that Stephen in the book of Acts is a martyr?
In your last paragraph, I think you have brought up a very interesting topic of discussion about “inversion” being a part of creation; and in so, that inversion is good because everything that God created is good. Your argument certainly makes a lot of sense! However, approaching the subject from a different view point, how would you consider this as it relates to the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve, and “The Fall” once sin entered the world (according to the book of Genesis in the Bible)? In other words, what if the world we live in today isn’t the world that God originally created and had intended? We don’t get a picture of “inversion” in the Garden of Eden; could you flesh out your opinions surrounding this a little more? And this could be from personal insight, Biblical stances, or otherwise! Just thought I would get the discussion flowing a little more!
Is there also a parallel between Stephen and Eve? After all, both are banished from the garden (Morton in one case, Eden in the other) for having âsinnedâ. Eveâs sin was disobeying God by eating from the Tree of Knowledge. What was Stephenâs âsinâ? Here, there is a curious tie-in with Jagose, who makes the distinction between acts and identity. Religious proscriptions against homosexuality are based on the same distinction. That is, a religiously minded person, especially a conservative one, might say Stephenâs sin was not being an invert or having “inverted” impulses, but acting on those impulses.
As others have noted, the ways in which Hall takes up religion in this novel serve to demonstrate historically the tensions between Christianity (and religion in a general sense) and homosexuality, as well as the troubles with reconciling the two. I will attempt to respond to Tiffanyâs question more thematically since that aspect resonated with me the most. Stephenâs identification with and resistance to Jesus embodies the inner struggle not only to secure faith in a divine being but also coming to terms with âbeingâ a way in isolation. Even from Stephenâs early affection for Collins, we see her (Stephenâs) miserable hunger, that âcraving for religion,â manifest in a sense of closeted isolation and exile. She wants so badly to bear the pain of Collinâs maligned knee, to take up her burden, and through prayer, she comes to empathize with Christâs martyrdom. In a sense, Jesus becomes both her confidant and her alter-ego.
Stephen takes ownership of that suffering willingly, hers as well as Collinâs, which I think shows how deeply her religious discourse informs the way she makes sense of her own identity: she rails again Jesus for being stubborn and greedy with his pain, yet she feels He should understand her; they are both, after all, misunderstood outcasts who are pushed to the periphery for their difference to other ânormalâ people. I believe Hall, from my scant knowledge of her background, uses this device to great effect because it illustrates, too, how oneâs struggle with being homosexual collides with a struggle to have faith in oneâs self, to not just find comfort in a greater power but to locate that source of empowerment within in even the bleakest of places, like Morton represents for Stephen.
I think you make some good points here, especially when we recognize that St. Stephen in the Christian tradition was the first martyr for Christ, or is remembered as such …
The religious aspect that stood out to me the most in the piece was how young Stephen wanted to be like Jesus for Collins: how she wished she could take on Collinsâs pain to heal her. First, I would like to say that this is a comically melodramatic idea, but nonetheless, it stuck with me as I went on.
Never in my life have I been so religious as young Stephen, and I was born and raised southern Baptist. I choose, often, to try and identify an author within their work, and in seeing Stephen so religious, I also see Hall much the same. I donât know if I would go so far as to analyze what the religious aspects of this book âmeanâ more than just to say: it is a reflection of who Stephen and Hall are. To both character and author, religion seems deeply and intrinsically important, and they cannot help but see the world through a religious lens.
I will save the fuller story for next weekâs discussion of Maurice, as I feel it will be more relevant there. But even though I was not so religious as Stephen, I was quite religious as a child. I saw the world through that lens. And the bookâs faults aside, it is accurate in its inclusion of this struggle: between personal religion and a sexuality that does not align with that religion.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts surrounding the religious paradigm highlighted throughout “The Well of Loneliness” and how it applies to the lives of the character and author. How did you find your Southern Baptist upbringing played into Hall’s writing and the elements of religion dissected in “The Well of Loneliness”? In the final “About the Author” section, it is written, “The Well of Loneliness is a thinly disguised story of her own life.” However, I think the readers get an adequate picture of this relation throughout the novel due to such a descriptive character as Stephen; so much so, that when I read this “About the Author” section, it was no surprise to discover this story aligns slightly with Hall’s life. And the religious realm mentioned throughout the text certainly seems to be an area of discussion when it meets and intersects with the struggle of homosexuality.
As you have mentioned, I feel that these same parallel’s are mentioned in “Maurice” as well! I am playing the role of discussion leader again next week, but having had this excellent discussion surrounding religion already, I have redirected my questions for “Maurice” to focus on other areas worth investigating!
I really look forward to seeing what your questions are for Maurice! And if no one talks about religion, then I’ll post about it in the catch-all.
As for how my upbringing aligned with The Well of Loneliness, it didn’t really. It was interesting comparing my own struggles with hers, but as I’ll discuss next week, my struggles more closely aligned with Clive’s in Maurice. Instead of fitting myself into a religious frame, I had more of a collision — religion and sexuality in something of a battle to the death. Hmm. I like that. I’ll use that in my post next week, too.
I’m not sure we can make this jump to Hall and her own sense of religion, but it seems to me that Hall certainly USES religion in the novel as a trope of some sort. With Stephen (again, I’m thinking here of St. Stephen from Catholic tradition, who was the first to be martyred for the cause of Christ), Hall borrows from Judeo-Christian theologies of martyrdom and suffering. Hall’s Stephen will be our prototypical invert, a martyr for same-sex love and for a new generation of misunderstood inverts. For those who feel oppressed by society around them, I suppose martyrdom makes sense. I guess I’ve seen so many young characters like Stephen in books, those who try to make sense of the world around them through adult lenses, that I don’t think of it as quite as melodramatic as you do, but I guess that’s one of the struggles: how do you write the first “lesbian” novel? Okay, there were other attempts … how do you write the first sympathetic lesbian novel? There wouldn’t really be a model out there of the genre … I suppose Hall does fall back on some gothic tropes, as well … hmm .. I’ll have to think about that more.
Religion is an area of debate among many âinvertsâ in this novel. Valerie, for instance, is a self-professed pagan and does not quite understand the lure of religion. I think separating the idea of religion (the actual gathering at church and the precepts dictated by man) and spirituality may be a better way of evaluating this issue.
Normality is lauded by the church communityâinverts are not celebrated or accepted by the religious community. However, the faith of characters, such as Stephen, place in God is part of the effort to seek recognition in the world. God created all, so, therefore, God created inverts. Inverts, then, must be part of nature and are naturalârather, it is manâs religious law that is unnatural. By the end of the novel, Stephen pleads directly to God, saying, ââŠwe believe ⊠We have not denied You; then rise up and defend us. âŠGive us the right to our existence!â (Hall 399). Through divine intervention, Stephen seeks societal acceptance so that she will not have to give up Mary. While this aim is self-serving (she does not want to have to give up her love), she also does it for the other inverts. Unfortunately ( as we can see throughout history), societal change takes time, and does not operate on an individualâs clock.
Hall, Radclyffe. The Well of Loneliness. Wordsworth Classics, 2014.
Victoria,
I think you have brought up an element to Hall’s writing that has yet to be dissected: Valerie and her personal point of view(s) as it pertains to religion. Would you say that Valerie has taken a look at her friends around her – their lives, their romances, their decisions – and reached the conclusion that religion shouldn’t play a significant role in all of that? Do you think it is her own personal thoughts (unrelated to her friends’ lives) that make her draw these conclusions? Are we able to see a difference between culture that drives such conclusions as we investigate the dichotomized views of France and England?
Tiffany,
Iâm so glad you asked these question. In Chapter fifty of the novel Hall describes inverts, âcraving for religionâ. She goes on to say that the craving of religion âsurely was one of their biggest problems. They believed, and believing they craved a blessing on what to some of them seemed very sacred—a faithful and deeply devoted unionâ. This part of the novel I am sure I understand and I am able to make a pretty in-depth assumption. Hall informs the reader that homosexuals seek religion in hopes of acceptance. They crave the same union as man and woman and they believe the only way to be blessed with that is through religion and faith.
However, there was a part on religion that confused my and made me contradict everything I thought Iâd figured out. I was reading at a good pace and then I came across the part where Hall describes âthe Invertâ and her connection to religion. Hall writes, âIt was quite true that inverts were often religious, but churchgoing in them was a form of weakness; they must be a religion unto themselves if they felt that they really needed religionâ(255). I was really confused by what Hall was implying. Was she trying to imply that church going and religion was a waste of time for homosexuals? Or the âform of weaknessâ⊠they only went in order to admit their way of life was wrong?
Hi Tiffany! Thank you for your response on this topic that I felt was consistently highlighted throughout Hall’s book. I appreciate your connection from religion and faith to the need for acceptance. It is interesting that this concept of relational acceptance is born from marriage – a marriage (at this earlier day and age) presented in the church and before God. I think we get an adequate picture of this desire for acceptance when we read of Jean and Adele’s wedding: “Jean and Adele were made one flesh in the eyes of their church, in the eyes of their God, and as one might confront the world without flinching” (Hall 393). Your points aforementioned are certainly supported in the text when Stephen draws a link between acceptance and religion. I think this aspect of acceptance can also be seen through Stephen’s exile from Morton. “Morton, that was surely Stephen’s real home, and in that real home there was no place for Mary” (Hall 336). If Stephen’s relationship is not recognized at her home before her earthly “parent/authority” how can it be accepted before her heavenly “parent/authority”? It becomes evident to the readers that Stephen really struggles with this item of acceptance throughout the novel; and that is absolutely seen as the topic of religion is dissected in Hall’s novel. As for your second point – I think you pose an excellent question. What exactly is Stephen (or Hall) getting at by implying that churchgoing was only a form of weakness for a homosexual? I hesitate to speculate, but I wonder if this is Stephen’s way of standing against the religious views toward homosexuality. If maybe she is saying “if homosexuals cannot stand against religious teachings that directly oppose our nature, than how can we expect anyone else to?” -that instead… Read more »
Hi Tiffany! I like what youâre getting at with the second point. I think we can agree that a vast majority believe that religion and homosexuality are incompatible, but I wonder to what degree this idea relies on a particular notion of identity. After all, being a Christian, for example, is not so dissimilar from being a homosexual, as they are both representative terms that one uses to describe some dimension of oneâs self: values, behaviors, etc. Iâm not sure if one cancels out or replaces the other, but I do think that the idea of homosexuality as a âreligion or faith of its ownâ is an interesting thought; it does carry its own belief systems, but those are very personal and can be defined differently: what it means to be homosexual for one person may vary greatly from the next, and the same applies to what it means to be a Christian. Just some thoughts!
Great thoughts, Brandon! I really like the way you have delved into the arena of identity as it pertains to homosexuality and/or Christianity. I think it is sufficient to say that those identities, amongst others, are certainly a part of how we would describe ourselves to others – and as you point out, this can be to varying degrees from one person to the next. Fleshing out the identity of an individual is an essential key to, I believe, the success of “finding one’s self” – what identities do we cling to, what identities do we shy from, and how does one identity, such as homosexuality, create such extreme opposition in response? Would Stephen consider herself a homosexual at the core of her identity? How does this differ from the examples that Jagose provides in “Queer Theory” when she shares an interviewee’s rejection of a gay identity (page 7 & 8)? When we consider the span of this particular spectrum, do you believe that there is a similar span mirrored in or with Christianity?
Tiffany,
I really like the questions youâve posed to us. I believe that there is a similar span to Christianity as the one mentioned in Jagoseâs Queer Theory. I think there are those who do not abide by the church, but still regard themselves as spiritual. A person may still pray, or put their trust in a higher being without going to church. This spectrum seems to work in a sense that one can believe in god without being Christian, just as one can still have sex with someone and reject homosexuality. The characteristics that describe Christianity are not mutually exclusive to being a Christian, just as the characteristics of homosexuality are not exclusive to being gay.
Very well-put, Emily! Thanks for sharing your insightful response here! I believe you are absolutely correct in comparing the two spans and allowing Christianity it’s own spectrum – much like the “Homosexuality” spectrum! I am interested in hearing other people’s thoughts surrounding this comparison…
Tiffany-
That quote really stuck out to me, as well. I think the “weakness” might parallel the “weakness” Puddle saw in Stephen. In Puddle’s eyes, Stephen was a strong woman, yet her constant worry and constant connectedness to the emotions of the people around her made her weak. Puddle yearned for Stephen to cease worrying about the thoughts and feelings of the people around her who disapproved of her and to live for herself. In the same vein, I think Hall was presenting the invert as someone who yearned to be accepted by the church, even though the church shunned him/her. The churchgoing, then, was a weakness, a cry for approval and acceptance from an institution (and the people within it) that he or she would never receive. That’s why that need would only be fulfilled by the fellow invert and why they must be “a religion unto themselves.”
Jen,
Great points dissected here! To delve deeper into Stephen and Puddle’s relationship – how do you think Puddle was a help in times of weakness? Was Puddle relying on Stephen to be stronger than Puddle was in her youth, (given her past and her own struggles)? Did you get the feeling that Puddle wanted much more for Stephen in this life than what Puddle received?
Great questions, Tiffany. I think Puddle was key in giving Stephen a figure other than her father (and the only female figure, really) to serve as a source of love, support, and guidance. Puddle often tried to help Stephen recognize the need for her to glean strength from herself instead of the people around her. However, Puddle could have been an even stronger support had she ever had the courage to explicitly “come out” to Stephen. I think if Stephen would have realized that Puddle, too, had gone through many of the same struggles, she could have faced the world around her with more confidence and less fear. It makes me think of today’s “It Gets Better” campaign: LGBT adults letting kids know that they understand the struggle, have struggled that struggle, and that it gets better. If I had been exposed to that as a kid, I can’t even begin to think about how different my childhood may have been. Same concept for Stephen. So, while Puddle was a great source of support and love for Stephen, I found myself wishing she would have been more.
Jen,
When you mention that you wish Puddle had been open about her personal struggles in life in the hope that it would help Stephen truly understand the potential for her future, it makes me wonder if this divulged secret would in fact help. I think you are correct in saying that today (in our culture’s current shift that supports LGBT), sharing is absolutely helpful for many youth trying to make sense of their sexual identity. However, given Puddle’s life – her accomplishments, her lack of (mentioned) romantic relationship(s), her legacy – do you think Puddle’s complete openness about her own struggles would have helped Stephen? It seemed like Puddle was lonely herself, and I wonder if she didn’t share everything because she didn’t want Stephen to think that her future would be as bleak as Puddle’s. I almost think that Puddle’s divulged secret would have been harmful to Stephen as Stephen looked to Puddle’s life as an accurate picture of how Stephen herself would end up. In this sense, I feel like Jamie and Barbara were a better example to incorporate than Puddle…simply because they had each other, whereas Puddle had no one.
As a side note, I do think that if Puddle was able to communicate her own struggles with Stephen, it would help Stephen work through her emotions in a manner that allowed her to realize that she wasn’t so abnormal, marked (like Cain), and/or a disgrace to society (especially from a religious standpoint). What do you (and others) make of Puddle’s silence while considering all these paradigms?
Great points, Tiffany. I think you’re probably right re: whether or not Puddle’s coming out would truly help Stephen. Puddle lived in a loneliness and with unrealized potential that might have discouraged Stephen. I do, think, however, that Stephen knowing she wasn’t alone in her feelings (especially as a child) might have been beneficial.
Tiffany, During the end of the Victorian era, the vast majority of the population, particularly the upper echelon, was Episcopalian, an off shoot of Catholicism. Within the Catholic faith there are the seven tenets of the Catholic faith, or the seven things any good Catholic should strive for. Of those, there are nuances throughout the book that elude to Stephen’s struggle to still remain, if not Catholic, at least by definition, “good”. The first tenet of respecting the human person was seen through several instances but I will mention Stephen’s wishing for Collins to be well by she herself taking on Collins’ injury. To my recollection Stephen is never seen disparaging anyone outright but seems only to be in conflict with her inner self and the image of what is expected of her through her familial religion. Another tenet of the Catholic faith is to promote the family. Before the age of IVF, surrogates and publicly accepted adoption, it was expected that well bred women have babies. The opening of the story makes it pretty clear that Sir Philip and Lady Anna Gordon were blissfully happy, and within that Utopia was the expectation that children would come. Their heartache and struggle to conceive highlights what was expected of them and that their Utopian balance depended on offspring. There was no logical way Stephen would be conceiving children and that in itself creates another inner conflict that as a woman, Stephen had to come to terms with. One other tenet I will touch on is the goal of working for the common good. Clearly, Stephen had somewhat of a self preserving side as she shunned Martin’s advances but strives to still do good for others as she sacrifices her own relationship with Mary for Mary’s benefit. In the final lines of… Read more »
Stephanie,
You certainly bring about some interesting focuses surrounding Stephen’s life as it pertains to the religious faith of the Catholic/Episcopalian believers from the early-mid 1900’s in England. Having lived in England myself, I see where those overlaps in society still exist today – the need to respect others, the respect for family, and the need to do good within a community. I think we would say that these faith related elements exist in America as well, although to varying degrees as culture and customs differ.
I really like how you have delved into the area of Christianity and how acceptance of “an invert” in the church doesn’t seem to coincide with the tendency of Christ followers. I think you are correct in connecting the acts of Christians/the church toward homosexuality with Hall’s need to make a statement in the final lines of the book. This statement stems from Stephen’s struggle with acceptance – Hall writes, “‘Stephen, Stephen, speak with your God and ask Him why He has left us forsaken!'” (436). It becomes evident rather early in the book, and all throughout, that an invert seems to be “forsaken” in the eyes of society and in the eyes of God.
Given the last statement of the book, what do you feel is the purpose of Stephen’s verbalized struggle with believing as it is revealed throughout the novel? She talks plenty with Martin about her unbelief, yet she claims at the end that she does believe, and that she has not denied God. What do you think were Hall’s intentions of having Stephen struggle with believing in God/having a faith/following religion throughout the novel?
I think the struggle for Stephen is wanting to believe in God’s teachings as they are and wondering why God would make someone like her. There is a conflict with what the church has taught her and with who she is as a person. She is fundamentally different from what she has been taught she should spiritually be.
There is no chapter of the Bible for her to go to reconcile her feelings/attraction to women as they manifest organically. As a matter of fact, her church forbids the actual physical action, but says nothing about how and why she is made to feel the way she does about women.
The Catholic faith has very distinct examples of how someone is to live their life. There is a saint named for almost every action/inaction/feeling or lack there of. In Stephen’s case, her faltering faith can be helped by her study of St. Thomas. Hall illustrates another version of the “everyman” or “every woman” through the very common struggle with belief. Even the most modern saint (I think she has been canonized), Mother Theresa admitted doubt.
But there is no example of a saint struggling with the very real human emotion of homosexuality. I am not saying homosexuality is wrong or something that needs to be fixed. I am saying that within Stephen’s faith, she has no where to turn for guidance with what she feels and who she is. Why wouldn’t someone struggle believing in a faith that claims and demands love for all but denies her very existence?
Stephanie, Thank you for this response – I believe you really are jumping into the issue of homosexuality as it is juxtaposed against religious teachings. I myself have a problem with how the church responds to homosexuality, and how they use the Bible to justify their unkind actions toward a group of people that, I believe,God loves…just as he loves any other human being. As far as the Bible teaches, homosexuality is a sin – just like lying, cheating, anger (in some context – or maybe when our actions reflect anger and it causes us to hurt someone), and so on. When sin entered the world, the Bible shows a distinct shift in human nature because of sin…take Cain and Abel for instance. Many people are naturally jealous, struggle with sexual impurity (in all senses), are struck with rage on a consistent basis, and so forth. However, I believe that the issue of homosexuality is more of an issue with culture – or the fact that if someone is choosing to live this lifestyle, it isn’t hidden as well as jealousy or hatred can be hidden. So, from a Biblical stance, homosexuality is a sin just like every thing else, but from a cultural perspective, jealousy, hatred, lying, or cheating is much more culturally acceptable than homosexual behavior. I guess what I am trying to say is that if a jealous person is accepted in the church, and a liar is accepted in the church…how come a homosexual can’t be accepted in the church? I thought a church was for sinners to begin with – I mean, I don’t know one human being that is without sin. And as far as I’m concerned, God doesn’t weigh sins, so if this is how the Church thinks – then all people should… Read more »
Hey Stephanie,
Just a quick comment from me, not to ruffle any feathers, though!
I was under the impression that for the majority of the 1800s and also earlier, England was mostly Protestant and seriously hated the Catholics. I thought this was part of the problem of the Irish Famine of that era. The upper classes of England and Ireland who were Protestant and didn’t suffer during famine years hated the Irish poor and blamed them for many problems of England and Ireland. Later Americans did the same when the Irish poor tried to immigrate to survive. They were hated partly because they were Catholic and partly because Protestantism believed in something called Divine Providence that saw pauperism as punishment from God). I thought that’s why Sir Thomas More (wrote Utopia and King Henry VIII didn’t get along as far back as the 1400s-1500s. Catholics wanted the Pope in power, so the monarchy saw Catholics as traitors because the royals were the leaders of England and the leaders of the Church. I could be wrong, because this could have absolutely changed by the late 1800s, sometime during Victoria’s reign.
Some info about Divine Providence and the elite of that time- https://kenanfellows.org/kfp-cp-sites/cp01/cp01/sites/kfp-cp-sites.localhost.com.cp01/files/LP3_BBC%20Irish%20Famine%20Article%20for%20Lab.pdf
Either way, you’re absolutely right there is definitely this sense of not fitting an “ideal” of religion and society that permeates the novel. Even from the start, with parts of her life outside of her own control, such as her name, how she was a “surprise” of sorts, and how she takes after her father and has a sometimes jealous mother. Later he skill in hunting and horseback riding continue this pattern and she recognizes that she doesn’t fit certain ideals that are expected of women.
Kelsey,
No ruffled feathers here(!) Yes, I agree there was religious turmoil within that era. That’s actually how the Protestant religion came about, “in protest” of Catholicism. If my memory serves, all Christian religions are versions of Catholicism, or more specifically, parts of Catholicism. Baptists from the teachings of John the Baptizer and so on.
Yes, I guess I could have been less specific and said Christianity in general as I was pointing out the Christian “blanket” with which Hall wrapped his story. But you get the general idea that the Christian religion that Stephen so wanted to live by gave her little support with what she was feeling and who she knew she was as a human being.
On a side note, I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall during King Henry VII’s reign. His twisting of position, leadership and religious rhetoric would have been a nice piece of drama to watch play out!
Hi Stephanie,
By mentioning âthe seven tenets of the Catholic faithâ, you give us an interesting way to think about Hallâs novel. Not being Catholic, I had to google around to find what those tenets are. (I found this link on the âSeven themes of Catholic Social Teachingâ, http://www.usccb.org/beliefs-and-teachings/what-we-believe/catholic-social-teaching/seven-themes-of-catholic-social-teaching.cfm.) To the ones you point out, I would add two others that figure in the novel. One of these is âthe dignity of workâ. Puddle is key in promoting this value by encouraging Stephenâs vocation as a writer: âYouâve got work to doâcome and do it!â (Hall 205). Another of the tenets is âCare for Godâs Creationâ, which comes into play in the fox hunt scene. Observing a fox in the throes of an agonizing death, Stephen vows there and then to ânever hunt any moreâ (127).
Stephen,
Yes, I think you are right and thanks for adding a link. I had made a note to do just that but posted my comment before I realized I had not added it.
How/why does Radclyffe Hall use religion in the text? âReligionâ yes, but (as others in this discussion have pointed out) specifically Roman Catholicism. Hall herself was a Catholic and there are several ways that she uses her religion in this novel. I would like to suggest two. One is that she borrows from the imagery and dramatis personae of the Christian bible. Anyone who cares to flex their English-Major gene can dwell on this. Morton is the Garden of Eden. But like the other Edens in the novel (Orotava [Hall 305] and the garden at 35 Rue Jacob), Morton is a precarious one. Even its name suggests death (âmortâ is Latin for death). Sir Philip and Lady Anna are its Adam and Eve. Stephen is at various times in the novel aligned with Cain, Job, Christ, and the Christian martyr with whom she shares a name (434). Hall also borrows her religionâs paternalism. Just as God is regarded as the protector of humankind (âHe alone can protectâ, 281) and Sir Philip as the protector of Lady Anna (201), Stephen regards herself as protector of Mary (343). Stephen sees protection as a male function that she is obliged to serve in her relationships first with Angela Crossby (153) and later with Mary. Ultimately Stephenâs belief that she cannot serve that function adequately is one reason she yields to Martin in the âwarâ for Maryâs hand (425). Another way Hall uses her religion is to give legitimacy to âinversionâ. In the world of the novel (and in the world in which the novel was written), contempt for âinvertsâ was based in part on the belief that inversion was “unnatural”. More than one character in the novel uses this word in reference to Stephen (e.g., 72). In response to this belief, Stephen/Hall offer… Read more »
Stephen,
I am glad that you have pointed out an instinct within Hall’s writing that directly pertains to parallels in the Bible: the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve, Cain, and Stephen the martyr. Hall was purposefully creating a dynamic piece that incorporated mirrored images of the Bible and many stories explained throughout Genesis (with the inclusion of Acts through Stephen the martyr). How do you think Stephen in “The Well of Loneliness” is a contemporary “martyr,” much in the same way that Stephen in the book of Acts is a martyr?
In your last paragraph, I think you have brought up a very interesting topic of discussion about “inversion” being a part of creation; and in so, that inversion is good because everything that God created is good. Your argument certainly makes a lot of sense! However, approaching the subject from a different view point, how would you consider this as it relates to the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve, and “The Fall” once sin entered the world (according to the book of Genesis in the Bible)? In other words, what if the world we live in today isn’t the world that God originally created and had intended? We don’t get a picture of “inversion” in the Garden of Eden; could you flesh out your opinions surrounding this a little more? And this could be from personal insight, Biblical stances, or otherwise! Just thought I would get the discussion flowing a little more!
Hi Tiffany,
It sounds like your underlying question is: What parallels can be drawn between the characters in the novel and figures from the Christian bible? For example, between Stephen and the Christian saint of the same name. Both are martyrs in the sense that they are prepared to make a sacrifice. Stephen is prepared to sacrifice her own happiness for Maryâs by letting her go live happily ever after with Martin Hallam. At least, I think this is what ValĂ©rie Seymour has in mind when she calls Stephen a martyr (Hall 434).
Is there also a parallel between Stephen and Eve? After all, both are banished from the garden (Morton in one case, Eden in the other) for having âsinnedâ. Eveâs sin was disobeying God by eating from the Tree of Knowledge. What was Stephenâs âsinâ? Here, there is a curious tie-in with Jagose, who makes the distinction between acts and identity. Religious proscriptions against homosexuality are based on the same distinction. That is, a religiously minded person, especially a conservative one, might say Stephenâs sin was not being an invert or having “inverted” impulses, but acting on those impulses.
As others have noted, the ways in which Hall takes up religion in this novel serve to demonstrate historically the tensions between Christianity (and religion in a general sense) and homosexuality, as well as the troubles with reconciling the two. I will attempt to respond to Tiffanyâs question more thematically since that aspect resonated with me the most. Stephenâs identification with and resistance to Jesus embodies the inner struggle not only to secure faith in a divine being but also coming to terms with âbeingâ a way in isolation. Even from Stephenâs early affection for Collins, we see her (Stephenâs) miserable hunger, that âcraving for religion,â manifest in a sense of closeted isolation and exile. She wants so badly to bear the pain of Collinâs maligned knee, to take up her burden, and through prayer, she comes to empathize with Christâs martyrdom. In a sense, Jesus becomes both her confidant and her alter-ego.
Stephen takes ownership of that suffering willingly, hers as well as Collinâs, which I think shows how deeply her religious discourse informs the way she makes sense of her own identity: she rails again Jesus for being stubborn and greedy with his pain, yet she feels He should understand her; they are both, after all, misunderstood outcasts who are pushed to the periphery for their difference to other ânormalâ people. I believe Hall, from my scant knowledge of her background, uses this device to great effect because it illustrates, too, how oneâs struggle with being homosexual collides with a struggle to have faith in oneâs self, to not just find comfort in a greater power but to locate that source of empowerment within in even the bleakest of places, like Morton represents for Stephen.
I think you make some good points here, especially when we recognize that St. Stephen in the Christian tradition was the first martyr for Christ, or is remembered as such …
The religious aspect that stood out to me the most in the piece was how young Stephen wanted to be like Jesus for Collins: how she wished she could take on Collinsâs pain to heal her. First, I would like to say that this is a comically melodramatic idea, but nonetheless, it stuck with me as I went on.
Never in my life have I been so religious as young Stephen, and I was born and raised southern Baptist. I choose, often, to try and identify an author within their work, and in seeing Stephen so religious, I also see Hall much the same. I donât know if I would go so far as to analyze what the religious aspects of this book âmeanâ more than just to say: it is a reflection of who Stephen and Hall are. To both character and author, religion seems deeply and intrinsically important, and they cannot help but see the world through a religious lens.
I will save the fuller story for next weekâs discussion of Maurice, as I feel it will be more relevant there. But even though I was not so religious as Stephen, I was quite religious as a child. I saw the world through that lens. And the bookâs faults aside, it is accurate in its inclusion of this struggle: between personal religion and a sexuality that does not align with that religion.
Jayde,
Thank you for sharing your thoughts surrounding the religious paradigm highlighted throughout “The Well of Loneliness” and how it applies to the lives of the character and author. How did you find your Southern Baptist upbringing played into Hall’s writing and the elements of religion dissected in “The Well of Loneliness”? In the final “About the Author” section, it is written, “The Well of Loneliness is a thinly disguised story of her own life.” However, I think the readers get an adequate picture of this relation throughout the novel due to such a descriptive character as Stephen; so much so, that when I read this “About the Author” section, it was no surprise to discover this story aligns slightly with Hall’s life. And the religious realm mentioned throughout the text certainly seems to be an area of discussion when it meets and intersects with the struggle of homosexuality.
As you have mentioned, I feel that these same parallel’s are mentioned in “Maurice” as well! I am playing the role of discussion leader again next week, but having had this excellent discussion surrounding religion already, I have redirected my questions for “Maurice” to focus on other areas worth investigating!
I really look forward to seeing what your questions are for Maurice! And if no one talks about religion, then I’ll post about it in the catch-all.
As for how my upbringing aligned with The Well of Loneliness, it didn’t really. It was interesting comparing my own struggles with hers, but as I’ll discuss next week, my struggles more closely aligned with Clive’s in Maurice. Instead of fitting myself into a religious frame, I had more of a collision — religion and sexuality in something of a battle to the death. Hmm. I like that. I’ll use that in my post next week, too.
I’m not sure we can make this jump to Hall and her own sense of religion, but it seems to me that Hall certainly USES religion in the novel as a trope of some sort. With Stephen (again, I’m thinking here of St. Stephen from Catholic tradition, who was the first to be martyred for the cause of Christ), Hall borrows from Judeo-Christian theologies of martyrdom and suffering. Hall’s Stephen will be our prototypical invert, a martyr for same-sex love and for a new generation of misunderstood inverts. For those who feel oppressed by society around them, I suppose martyrdom makes sense. I guess I’ve seen so many young characters like Stephen in books, those who try to make sense of the world around them through adult lenses, that I don’t think of it as quite as melodramatic as you do, but I guess that’s one of the struggles: how do you write the first “lesbian” novel? Okay, there were other attempts … how do you write the first sympathetic lesbian novel? There wouldn’t really be a model out there of the genre … I suppose Hall does fall back on some gothic tropes, as well … hmm .. I’ll have to think about that more.
Religion is an area of debate among many âinvertsâ in this novel. Valerie, for instance, is a self-professed pagan and does not quite understand the lure of religion. I think separating the idea of religion (the actual gathering at church and the precepts dictated by man) and spirituality may be a better way of evaluating this issue.
Normality is lauded by the church communityâinverts are not celebrated or accepted by the religious community. However, the faith of characters, such as Stephen, place in God is part of the effort to seek recognition in the world. God created all, so, therefore, God created inverts. Inverts, then, must be part of nature and are naturalârather, it is manâs religious law that is unnatural. By the end of the novel, Stephen pleads directly to God, saying, ââŠwe believe ⊠We have not denied You; then rise up and defend us. âŠGive us the right to our existence!â (Hall 399). Through divine intervention, Stephen seeks societal acceptance so that she will not have to give up Mary. While this aim is self-serving (she does not want to have to give up her love), she also does it for the other inverts. Unfortunately ( as we can see throughout history), societal change takes time, and does not operate on an individualâs clock.
Hall, Radclyffe. The Well of Loneliness. Wordsworth Classics, 2014.
Victoria,
I think you have brought up an element to Hall’s writing that has yet to be dissected: Valerie and her personal point of view(s) as it pertains to religion. Would you say that Valerie has taken a look at her friends around her – their lives, their romances, their decisions – and reached the conclusion that religion shouldn’t play a significant role in all of that? Do you think it is her own personal thoughts (unrelated to her friends’ lives) that make her draw these conclusions? Are we able to see a difference between culture that drives such conclusions as we investigate the dichotomized views of France and England?