Sideblog for a personal 2024-26 reading project, following novels serialised 1864-66. This blog will NOT be spoiler-free and will not usually use standard tags (I don't want to clog up the main tags).
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Reached chapter 24 of Wives and Daughters, so of course I went to listen to Molly's piano piece:
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[Piece begins at 4:35ish, but it's worth listening to the talk before too!]
[...] show herself to the world as an impartial stepmother. Cynthia had played and sung, and now she must give Molly her turn of exhibition. Cynthia's singing and playing was light and graceful, but anything but correct; but she herself was so charming, that it was only fanatics for music who cared for false chords and omitted notes. Molly, on the contrary, had an excellent ear, if she had ever been well taught; and both from inclination and conscientious perseverance of disposition, she would go over an incorrect passage for twenty times. But she was very shy of playing in company; and when forced to do it, she went through her performance heavily, and hated her handiwork more than any one. "Now, you must play a little, Molly," said Mrs. Gibson; "play us that beautiful piece of Kalkbrenner's, my dear."
Molly looked up at her stepmother with beseeching eyes; but it only brought out another form of request, still more like a command. "Go at once, my dear. You may not play it quite rightly; and I know you are very nervous; but you're quite amongst friends." So there was a disturbance made in the little group at the piano, and Molly sate down to her martyrdom. "Please, go away!" said she to Osborne, who was standing behind her ready to turn over. "I can quite well do it for myself. And oh! if you would but talk!" Osborne remained where he was in spite of her appeal, and gave her what little approval she got; for Mrs. Gibson, exhausted by her previous labour of counting her stitches, fell asleep in her comfortable sofa-corner near the fire; and Roger, who began at first to talk a little in compliance with Molly's request, found his conversation with Cynthia so agreeable, that Molly lost her place several times in trying to catch a sudden glimpse of Cynthia sitting at her work, and Roger by her, intent on catching her low replies to what he was saying. "There, now I've done!" said Molly, standing up quickly as soon as she had finished the eighteen dreary pages; "and I think I will never sit down to play again!"
#she's a talented lady!#even if she did lose her place#this is a really beautiful piece#up until variation 6 when you realise it's charlie had a pigeon 💀#(or once there was a lassy / once there was a lady / molly had a baby / hail to the busdriver / whatever it's called where you're from)#molly gibson#wives and daughters#w&d#molly w&d#april 1865#part 9#w&d part 9#video
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I haven't posted here about my serial reading project for a while, so to round up a few things:
I finished Luttrell of Arran by Charles Lever in Feb. The ending was not as good as I had hoped, but all the same, I enjoyed the book, especially the character of Kitty O'Hara, and would read it again.
Armadale is great so far. I really like both Alan and Ozias as characters, and am really looking forward to seeing where the story goes. Like Mary Elizabeth Braddon, Collins is great at the serial form, and keeping interest in the story from month-to-month.
I'm enjoying re-reading Wives and Daughters too. I haven't posted about it much because I obviously know the story. One thing that did surprise me was how long it took Cynthia to arrive on the page as a character (rather than just being mentioned) - she's introduced in chapter 19, and as it's a 60 chapter novel, that marks just before the 1/3 mark. In terms of the monthly serialised parts, Cynthia's arrival happens midway through Feb 1865, in serial part 7; there were 18 monthly parts in total (including the end), so that actually puts Cynthia's arrival just after the 1/3 mark in terms of the number of months the initial readers were reading the book for, if that makes sense. I suppose the point of not introducing Cynthia sooner is to get the reader familiar with Molly and her world, so that we can better appreciate the changes Cynthia brings to her life.
It's interesting to think of the fact that Armadale and Wives and Daughters were being published in the same magazine (the Cornhill magazine) at the same time.
I have unfortunately fallen behind with rereading Our Mutual Friend. This is of course because I have been trying to do my Queer Reading posts, which can take up a lot of my limited time and energy, so I've fallen about half a year behind. If I don't catch up within a few months, I will probably DNF Our Mutual Friend (since I've read it twice before, including once within the last year) and try to finish off the queer reading at some other point. I'll be reading other Dickens (A Tale of Two Cities) when Dickens Daily restarts soon, so it's not like I'll be without my serial Dickens!
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Finished The Doctor's Wife. Enjoyed it. 🙂
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The thing with Armadale is that so much drama has happened in the first four chapters I wonder what on earth the rest of the book can be about. I feel like I've had the best part of a book's worth of drama lol.
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Really like Alan Armadale as a character ❤️
#also he's got adhd#alan (arma)#hm this may get confusing#arma#december 1864#part 2#arma part 2#reaction
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Also I knew it! (re the Stranger and Izzy's family and Roland) Really glad that paid off! There was a bit a few months ago where I really thought none of that was going to be relevant again lol.
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Noooo 😭
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Queer reading Our Mutual Friend chapter 14
[Just as a heads-up, this may not make a lot of sense if you don't read this in the context of my post about queer reading chapters 12 and 13. I've probably got less to say about this one, but it is integral to the entire queer reading of Our Mutual Friend as a book.]
[Also, just as a heads up, these posts do CONTAIN SPOILERS for the rest of the book, where I think it's too difficult to talk about things without giving spoilers.]
The chapter begins with Rogue Riderhood making a sort of threat towards Lizzie, and a "suddenly fierce" Eugene sort of leaping to her defense. Again, this reminds us right at the beginning of the chapter of Eugene's growing interest in Lizzie and here he displays a sort of protectiveness of her.
Astonished by his friend’s unusual heat, Lightwood stared too [...]
As in the last chapter, the reader's attention is drawn to Mortimer's notice of and reaction to Eugene's out-of-the-ordinary behaviour. This partly emphasises the closeness between them (Mortimer can notice when Eugene acts 'unusually' because he knows his usual behaviour well; whereas the Inspector doesn't) but also, for readers reading the through a queer lens, make us think about how Eugene's interest in Lizzie is going to affect his relationship with Mortimer.
‘Hallo! Steady!’ cried Eugene (he had recovered immediately on embarking), as they bumped heavily against a pile; and then in a lower voice reversed his late apostrophe by remarking (‘I wish the boat of my honourable and gallant friend may be endowed with philanthropy enough not to turn bottom-upward and extinguish us!) Steady, steady! Sit close, Mortimer. Here’s the hail again. See how it flies, like a troop of wild cats, at Mr Riderhood’s eyes!’
I just thought I'd draw attention to this because it's a sweet moment. Eugene's obviously somewhat concerned for his own safety, but also expresses concern for Mortimer. So I think we can see that his growing interest in Lizzie, while it may disrupt the relationship between himself and Mortimer in some ways, does not at all diminish the care he has for him.
Also I suppose you could make a point that Eugene's concern for Mortimer manifests in desiring greater physical closeness between them... but I also suspect this has something to do with the physics of boating... if they're sat on the same bench in a boat, it probably makes sense for them to sit right next to each other in the middle of the bench for centre-of-gravity reasons, rather than at opposite ends of the boat where their weight might be more likely to exacerbate any rocking of the boat? I don't know, I don't know enough about physics or boating to say.
On their way in the boat, Eugene makes a few quiet vaguely-humorous remarks to Mortimer, implying again that they are sat very close together and that they primarily direct their conversation at each other.
They retrieve the body, return to shore, and realise that it's Gaffer. At some point - persumably during the time the Inspector is talking, Eugene disappears.
Mortimer, of course, is the first to notice that Eugene has left.
‘I wish it had not been a part of his singular entertaining combination to give me the slip under these dreary circumstances at this time of the morning,’ said Lightwood. [...]
Remember that, earlier in the night, Eugene had said he would not leave Mortimer. And yet here he has, despite the fact that Mortimer doesn't like it.
I'm skipping a little ahead in the chapter here, but I think by the end of the chapter, the audience guesses what is indeed true: that Eugene has left Mortimer for Lizzie-related reasons (he has gone to break the news to Lizzie, getting a woman friend of hers - Abbey Potterson - to go with him, presumably both for propriety and comfort reasons).
This is important for any queer reading of Our Mutual Friend, I think: the way Eugene-and-Mortimer's relationship interacts with and affects and is affected by Eugene-and-Lizzie's relationship. It is specifically because of his relationship with Mortimer that Eugene ever meets Lizzie (at the beginning of the book) and ever has the opportunity of having his initial spark of interest grow into something bigger (in the events of the night/morning portrayed in chapters 12-14); likewise, Eugene-and-Lizzie's relationship and eventual marriage will change the terms on which the Eugene-and-Mortimer relationship stands, and supersede their domestic partnership (well, possibly... we never do actually learn what Eugene and Lizzie's eventual domestic setup is. Perhaps they go to live with Mortimer, or goes to live with them. I expect I'll speculate on this more when we reach the end of the novel).
Returning to Mortimer: he is drowsy, and has strange dreams (I always thinks Dickens writes sleep and dreams very well). These dreams are an interesting mix and combination of 1) the real (by which I mean real events that have really taken place in Mortimer's recent-ish experience, like lying under a boat, and there being a £5-10 thousand reward from Mr Boffin); 2) things that have not happened and do not seem likely to have but thoughts of which may have been sparked by the events of the night (joining the army and committing a capital offense, which echoes conversation Eugene and Mortimer had had earlier in the night about feeling like they had committed a crime, and jokingly agreeing to commit a crime themselves next time), and 3) prophetic imagery, i.e. things which haven't happened yet, but something like them will happen later on in the book:
Hard work rowing the cab through the City to the Temple, for a cup of from five to ten thousand pounds value, given by Mr Boffin; and hard work holding forth at that immeasurable length to Eugene (when he had been rescued with a rope from the running pavement) for making off in that extraordinary manner! But he offered such ample apologies, and was so very penitent, that when Lightwood got out of the cab, he gave the driver a particular charge to be careful of him. Which the driver (knowing there was no other fare left inside) stared at prodigiously.
So in this dream, Mortimer (in a rowing boat) rescues Eugene from the river, and Eugene is so penitent that Mortimer forgives him for his previous mistreatment of him ('making off in that extraordinary manner' / leaving him that night).
This series of dreams events echoes what will happen later in the book, where Lizzie (in a rowing boat) will rescue Eugene from the river, and Eugene will be so penitent that Lizzie will forgive him for his previous mistreatment of her.
There seems to me to be an equivalence that Dickens is drawing (in my opinion, deliberately) between Eugene's relationship with Lizzie and his relationship with Mortimer, which is perhaps only obvious on a re-read, and only if reading while paying particular attention to both relationships.
Mortimer goes to bed, and when he wakes, he "in some anxiety" sends a message (presumably by his clerk, Blight?) to Eugene's lodgings (reminder: they are not yet living together, but have agreed to live together over at least the coming summer) to enquire after him. I just think this is sweet, and again shows the love and care between these two, regardless of what kind of love it is.
‘Such a night?’ repeated Mortimer. ‘What became of you in the morning?’ ‘My dear fellow,’ said Eugene, sitting on his bed, ‘I felt that we had bored one another so long, that an unbroken continuance of those relations must inevitably terminate in our flying to opposite points of the earth. I also felt that I had committed every crime in the Newgate Calendar. So, for mingled considerations of friendship and felony, I took a walk.’
This is an interesting exchange. Later in the novel, we will find out that Eugene was not, in fact, taking a walk. As mentioned above, he took Abbey Potterson to go and break the news to Lizzie of her father's death, and given that he does not appear to have been home since, he has spent quite a long time there. This is really the turning point in Eugene and Lizzie's relationship, in my opinion, even though it's 'off-screen'; before, he had a slight interest in her, presumably based primarily on her looks and only his own assumptions and thoughts about her; but after this, he has spent some actual time with her and is actually beginning to build some sort of relationship with her - and presumably he is beginning to realise (perhaps subconciously) that there's something not-quite-right about his (an upper-middle-class gentleman's) interest in a lower-class young woman...
Before he went to spend these few hours with Lizzie, he seemed willing to talk about his feelings about Lizzie (such as they were - primarily concern and some protectiveness) with Mortimer; but afterwards, he is not.
Something has changes in the relationship between Eugene and Lizzie, and this directly affects how Eugen conducts his relationship with Mortimer. Interesting.
Also interesting: Eugene seems very comfortable, doesn't he, sitting on Mortimer's bed (with Mortimer possibly still in it? Why is this conversation happening in Mortimer's bedroom rather than his sitting room?)? Is this something they do often?
Anyway, that's where the Lizzie-and-Eugene-and-Mortimer storyline concludes for Book One of the story, and that's all I've got to say on the queer-reading front about the September 1864 chapters of Our Mutual Friend.
I'm unsure if I'll have anything to say about the October chapters as I haven't (re)read them yet - I wanted to catch up with making these queer reading posts first.
#september 1864#omf#omf part 5#part 5#eugene omf#mortimer omf#lizzie omf#abbey omf#queer reading omf#queer reading
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Queer reading chapters 12 and 13 of Our Mutual Friend.
Before beginning, a few points:
We're really beginning to get to the meat of thing with regard to Eugene and Mortimer;
I think it's pretty much impossible (at least in this format) to discuss Eugene and Mortimer's relationship without discussing Eugene and Lizzie's relationship; this post (and subsequent posts, probably) therefore spends a lot of time focusing on a relationship between a man and a woman, which some people may not necessarily think of as 'queer' in itself; but 1) queer people are still queer when in relationships with 'the opposite sex', 2) E&M's and E&L's stories are pretty intertwined and I don't think it's helpful or fair to try to artificially separate them, 3) I feel like Eugene's sexuality is a major part of his role and development throughout the book and so it would be weird to do a queer reading and not address the more obvious expression of that (the E&L relationship)
I entertain a range of queer possibilities as far as Eugene and Mortimer and their relationship go. Homosocial, homosexual and homoromantic bonds and identities are all possible, as are bi- identities, and I also thinks there's a really compelling case to be made for asexuality spectrum and aromantic spectrum possibilities (especially for Eugene; again, Eugene's sexuality is integral to his character development). I'll probably develop some of these ideas further in later months, but for now I just wanted to make it clear that I'm not limiting my view of their identities and relationship to strictly 'homo-' types of queer.
Chapter 12:
There are two major parts to this chapter: 1) a conversation between Eugene and Mortimer, and 2) the conversation with Rogue Riderhood. I'll analyse the conversation between Eugene and Mortimer deeply because I feel it is very important as far as a queer reading goes. I'll then discuss relevant bits of the conversation with Rogue Riderhood.
1) The Conversation between Eugene and Mortimer:
Again, these two characters are seen by the reader together. We have not yet see Eugene without Mortimer (but it's coming.)
They are both in Mortimer's office in Temple having a meal and a drink together. They are in his office here (which the reader has seen before), not in the rooms he lives in, but I think it's worth noting that this is still potentially a very domestic scene. They have fire, dinner, wine. The Temple was an area of London where a lot of lawyers lived and worked. Buildings would generally include both office space and living space within the same building. So there's very much a mixing of work and domesticity... but also it's worth noting that despite the domesticity it's very much a masculine space. Since only men could be lawyers, generally only men were living there, so it's a very homosocial domesticity.
The first sentence of the chapter sets the scene. The rest of the first paragraph goes like this:
They had newly agreed to set up a joint establishment together. They had taken a bachelor cottage near Hampton, on the brink of the Thames, with a lawn, and a boat-house; and all things fitting, and were to float with the stream through the summer and the Long Vacation.
'Establishment' in this context means household; so essentially the chapter begins by saying that they have decided to join together to make one household and live together in 'a bachelor cottage' - admittedly, at the moment this seems to be a temporary arrangement only: for "the summer and the Long Vacation". But still: they're setting up a joint establishment together.
[It's not really relevant to a queer reading, but in relation to Eugene's (and, indeed, Mortimer's) relationship with Lizzie, and the theme of class, I think it's worth noting that they're going on a boating holiday. It's implied later in the book that 'row[ing] together' is part of Eugene and Mortimer's past together; it is also, of course, important to their relationship with Lizzie. They can all row, but the level of skill and driver of their reasons for rowing is different. For Lizzie, it is work, and not work she appears to enjoy; but Eugene and Mortimer row for pleasure.]
They've met for a purpose: to talk about something. But they don't immediately get to that. Instead they talk about Lighthouses:
‘The wind sounds up here,’ quoth Eugene, stirring the fire, ‘as if we were keeping a lighthouse. I wish we were.’ ‘Don’t you think it would bore us?’ Lightwood asked. ‘Not more than any other place. [...]’ [...] ‘[...] It would be exciting to look out for wrecks.’ ‘But otherwise,’ suggested Lightwood, ‘there might be a degree of sameness in the life.’ ‘I have thought of that also,’ said Eugene, as if he really had been considering the subject in its various bearings with an eye to the business; ‘but it would be a defined and limited monotony. It would not extend beyond two people. Now, it’s a question with me, Mortimer, whether a monotony defined with that precision and limited to that extent, might not be more endurable than the unlimited monotony of one’s fellow-creatures.’ As Lightwood laughed and passed the wine, he remarked, ‘We shall have an opportunity, in our boating summer, of trying the question.’ ‘An imperfect one,’ Eugene acquiesced, with a sigh, ‘but so we shall. I hope we may not prove too much for one another.’
When I first read this, on my first read of Our Mutual Friend, I thought that whatever was going on between Eugene and Mortimer, Mortimer didn't seem as committed to it as Eugene. It seemed that Eugene was trying to express a wish for the two of them to spend time alone to together, and that Mortimer was implying that he would be bored. However, with information gathered later in the chapter about Eugene's tendency to boredom, and with the context of Mortimer's relationship towards Eugene in the rest of the book (his acceptance of pretty much everything Eugene does, the way copies Eugene's behaviours), Mortimer's comments about 'boredom' and 'sameness' take on a different perspective: it's not so much an 'I'll get bored', as a 'I think you'll get bored; and that's ok if so'.
However, Eugene's comment that "a monotony defined with that precision and limited to that extent [two people, Eugene and Mortimer], might [...] be more endurable" than spending time with other people seems to be an attempt at reassuring Mortimer that while it may very well be boring/monotonous to spend a lot of time alone together, he thinks he will find it more pleasant than other types of boredom with other people. He's still not sure, but Mortimer seems willing to take it as it comes, of "trying to question" of spending extended time alone together in their Bachelor cottage. He's following Eugene's lead, with regard to their relationship.
Then Mortimer brings the conversation around to what they have met to talk about: Eugene's father.
Eugene reveals that his father has "found [...] a wife" for him [for Eugene]. Mortimer seems to take this quite calmly, asking if she has money. This might seem to refute a queer reading; however, this was the Victorian era, and a lot of men did marry women - whether they were attracted to them or not - including for money reasons. It is likely that Mortimer has thought about the possibility of Eugene getting married before (and possibly of himself getting married also), so it doesn't necessarily need to come as a great shock, even if they are in some sort of relationship (romantic, sexual, queer-platonic, platonic, etc).
‘[...] M. R. F. [My Respected Father] pre-arranged for myself that I was to be the barrister I am (with the slight addition of an enormous practice, which has not accrued), and also the married man I am not.’ ‘The first you have often told me.’ ‘The first I have often told you. Considering myself sufficiently incongruous on my legal eminence, I have until now suppressed my domestic destiny. You know M. R. F., but not as well as I do. [...]’
A few points about this quote:
Whatever Mortimer may have entertained in his own mind about Eugene's potential marriage, they do not appear to have previously spoken about the possibility together (Eugene told him 'often' about MRF prearranging his career, but not his marriage).
Eugene talks about having "suppressed his domestic destiny". This sounds almost deliberate, like he was trying to avoid the 'pre-arranged' outcome of marriage to a woman for as long as possible. If so, this not only potentially supports our queer reading of Eugene, but adds an interesting perspective to his lack of success in his career: how much of it is really to do with laziness, and how much of it is trying to avoid heteronormativity / amatonormativity and carve out a life for himself under his own rules?
This is a little thing but: Mortimer knows Eugene's father. Even if their bond is entirely platonic, I think it's nice that they're the kind of friends who know each other's families. A little later on in the book, there is an implication that Eugene knows Mortimer's family too.
Then Eugene goes off topic for a bit, talking about his father, and Mortimer draws him back to the topic by saying:
‘Touching the lady, Eugene.’ ‘There M. R. F. ceases to be amusing, because my intentions are opposed to touching the lady.’
Hello? Like I sometimes wonder if I'm reading too much into small things when I do these queer readings but like. If the purpose of the sentence was just to draw Eugene back to the point, Dickens could have made Mortimer use any number of other phrases: "On the subject of the lady, Eugene", "Regarding the lady, Eugene", "You were talking of the lady, Eugene", "And the lady, Eugene?", etc, etc. He literally did not have to say "touching the lady".
But of course it is a great set up if Dickens wants Eugene to go on and say, "my intentions are opposed to touching the lady."
So anyway. Eugene's intentions are opposed to touching the lady.
The use of the word 'touching' seems to bring an element of sexuality (or lack of it, perhaps) to a conversation that was previously about marriage more generally. Whether it's 'touching' Eugene is opposed to, or specifically touching women, or specifically touching a women at this time is unclear... but regardless of whether our reading of this turn of phrase is 'he's asexual and doesn't like touching / sex', or 'he's gay and doesn't like touching / sex with women', or 'he's straight but doesn't want to get married and therefore have married touching / sex', or 'he's straight but doesn't want to get married and therefore have married touching / sex at the moment', I think the fact remains that this is Eugene being explicitly opposed to the norms expected of him with regard to sex and marriage.
‘Do you know her?’ ‘Not in the least.’ ‘Hadn’t you better see her?’ ‘My dear Mortimer, you have studied my character. Could I possibly go down there, labelled “ELIGIBLE. ON VIEW,” and meet the lady, similarly labelled? Anything to carry out M. R. F.‘s arrangements, I am sure, with the greatest pleasure—except matrimony. Could I possibly support it? I, so soon bored, so constantly, so fatally?’ ‘But you are not a consistent fellow, Eugene.’ ‘In susceptibility to boredom,’ returned that worthy, ‘I assure you I am the most consistent of mankind.’
A few things here:
Again, Mortimer doesn't seem upset about the idea of Eugene marrying, and seems more open to the idea than Eugene. He suggests that Eugene should go and meet the woman in question, presumably to make an informed decision. I assume for gay or asexual men of the period who did marry women, while romance and sexual attraction may not have been factors in choosing a wife, I'm sure it must have been important to them to find a wife who was otherwise a good fit, as there were other factors (such as wealth, class, personality, principles, etc) which went into choosing a suitable marriage partner.
Eugene mentions that Mortimer has "studied my character". The things which Mortimer knows about Eugene are not framed as things which were picked up casually through proximity, but rather as a matter of study; something which seems more deliberate and requiring more effort. Whether or not Eugene has 'studied' Mortimer's character in return is not mentioned, here or elsewhere.
Eugene positions his boredom as the reason he cannot "possibly go down there, labelled "ELIGIBLE. ON VIEW," and meet the lady, similarly labelled". I have no doubt that this is a big part of the reason, and I do think Eugene's boredom and general apathy is an incredibly important part of his story.
But the question of this post is: is there another reason? Is it just worry that he would get bored of a wife that makes matrimony the only thing he won't do to please his father? Or is there a queer reason also?
‘Why, it was but now that you were dwelling in the advantages of a monotony of two.’ ‘In a lighthouse. Do me the justice to remember the condition. In a lighthouse.’
Of course, if there is a queer reason for Eugene not wanting to marry a woman, Dickens can't just have Eugene come out and say something like 'I don't want to marry a woman because I prefer men because I'm gay' or 'I don't want to marry a woman because I don't feel sexual/romantic attraction and want to prioritise platonic bonds in my life because I'm asexual/aromantic' or anything like that.
What Dickens can do is recall the earlier part of the conversation where Eugene expressed that he would probably be happier (or at least, less bored) alone in a lighthouse with Mortimer than with all the rest of the world. Here, the scenario and its conditions are recalled, and Eugene implies that the scenario and conditions would also be a preferable 'monotony of two' than being married to a woman.
[Before I move on: I love the phrase a 'monotony of two' for Eugen and Mortimer. I feel like it's probably a frontrunner for their old-school phrasal ship name lol].
Mortimer laughed again, and Eugene, having laughed too for the first time, as if he found himself on reflection rather entertaining, relapsed into his usual gloom, and drowsily said, as he enjoyed his cigar, ‘No, there is no help for it; one of the prophetic deliveries of M. R. F. must for ever remain unfulfilled. With every disposition to oblige him, he must submit to a failure.’
So this part of the scene concludes with them laughing together and Eugene firmly saying that he does not intend to marry.
So to summarise the main points of part 1 of this scene, the conversation between Eugene and Mortimer:
Eugene is determined not to marry;
In this, he defies social convention, and also the explicit desires of his father;
He tells Mortimer his determination, and they have explicitly got together that evening with that purpose (it should be noted though: it very much is just Eugene tell Mortimer things he's already decided, it's not really a two-sided discussion);
He does want to spend time alone with Mortimer;
They have arranged a boating vocation to do just that, and will be living together temporarily;
Mortimer seems to very much enjoy Eugene's company (he laughs more than Eugene) and to be very interested in him ('studies' his character) but doesn't push for anything specific from him (perhaps because of his knowledge of Eugene's boredom?); he seems happy to follow Eugene's lead in their relationship;
In short, I think this part of the scene shows them at a point where they are sort of committing to their relationship, whatever that relationship is (a sexual relationship? a romantic relationship? a queer-platonic relationship? a platonic relationship?).
Essentially, this interaction sort of reinforces the idea of these two characters as a duo in the reader's mind. I just think it's really interesting that Dickens put this interaction right before what happens next...
2) The Conversation with Rogue Riderhood:
When Eugene notices Rogue Riderhood has entered the room, Mortimer seems to react with somewhat uncharacteristic irritability. Of course, this may very well just be because he came in without knocking, but he seems a little short even after a reasonable explanation is given (that the door was open; presumably left open by either the coffee-house waiter or Blight when they left). If there was an undercurrent of something queer beneath the words of the conversation between him and Eugene in the first part of the scene, that would perhaps further justify why he seems so unsettled.
I won't go into too much detail about the first part of this exchange; basically, Mortimer leads the conversation with Rogue Riderhood, and Eugene assists with one or two comments to assist Mortimer or back him up.
Deferring to the man’s sense of the binding powers of pen and ink and paper, Lightwood nodded acceptance of Eugene’s nodded proposal to take those spells in hand. Eugene, bringing them to the table, sat down as clerk or notary.
This small wordless exchange is very nice, I think - it shows how well they know each other.
Also, even though Eugene is lazy and resentful or work, he offers to do it for Mortimer, which is nice.
Mortimer begins asking Riderhood questions, but then Eugene takes over questioning for a bit with a slightly accusatory air, presumably suspecting Riderhood.
Eugene leaned back in his chair, and smoked with his eyes negligently turned on the informer, and his pen ready to reduce him to more writing. Lightwood also smoked, with his eyes negligently turned on the informer.
This is one of several references throughout the book of Mortimer taking his manner from Eugene.
[...] ‘I give information that the man that done the Harmon Murder is Gaffer Hexam, [...]’ The two friends glanced at one another with more serious faces than they had shown yet.
At this point in the discussion with Riderhood, they are still on the same page, still acting more or less in tandem. They are both concerned about an accusation of murder because it is an accusation of murder.
However, sometime after Riderhood makes a mention of Lizzie ("ask his [Gaffer's] daughter!"), we get this:
Mortimer glanced at Eugene, but Eugene sat glowering at his paper, and would give him no responsive glance.
Riderhood brings up Lizzie, and afterwards there isn't quite the same unity between Mortimer and Eugene. Mortimer is still acting as before; Eugene is not.
‘But he hadn’t,’ said Eugene, drawing a lady’s head upon his writing-paper, and touching it at intervals, ‘the opportunity then of earning so much money, you see.’ [...] ‘Hear!’ from Eugene as he touched his drawing.
The head Eugene is drawing here is presumably Lizzie's. I think the wording Dickens uses here is very interesting: he uses 'lady' despite the fact that Lizzie probably doesn't technically count as a lady (there's a class element to the connotation of 'lady', which there isn't to 'woman', though respect and erring on the side of caution doesn't mean that a working woman couldn't ever be called a 'lady'), and the word 'touching' is used. Where have we heard 'lady' and 'touching' used in close proximity recently? "[...] my intentions are opposed to touching the lady." And yet, here he is, touching a lady (or a representation of one). This echo of the earlier wording is very important, I think, for anyone who wants to present a queer reading of Eugene which positions him as someone on the asexuality-spectrum experiencing sexual attraction for the first time, or as someone who has previously identified as only being sexually interested in men experiencing sexual attraction to a woman for the first time.
They talk with Riderhood a bit more, then Mortimer 'leans over' Eugene and they have a whispered exchange about the likelihood of Riderhood's accusation being true. Then:
"[...] I should like to ask him one thing.’ [...] ‘You mentioned (twice, I think) a daughter of this Hexam’s,’ said Eugene, aloud. ‘You don’t mean to imply that she had any guilty knowledge of the crime?’ [...] ‘No, I don’t.’ [...] ‘I must see this out, Mortimer,’ whispered Eugene, rising. [...]
Eugene specifically takes the opportunity to ask about Lizzie, presumably to get an idea of how this accusation might affect her. He has paid attention to how many times she has been mentioned. And he feels he "must see this out", presumably because of his strange interest in Lizzie.
On the walk to the police station, and on their way to the Six Jolly Fellowship Porters Mortimer and Eugene converse in their usual way and seem to be on the same page again.
Chapter 13:
Near the beginning of the chapter, Eugene and Mortimer are humorously leaning into their lime-trade personas, but that does not stop Eugene from expressing concern for Lizzie, and asking questions to establish her home situation and that if her father is arrested she will be left alone. (I should say: I think this is coming from a place of concern and human pity on Eugene's part; I'm just aware that this way I phrased that sentence I may have made it seem like I thought Eugene would be interested in her being left alone for sinister reasons - I don't think that's the case.)
‘This is becoming grim, Mortimer,’ said Eugene, in a low voice. ‘I don’t like this.’ ‘Nor I’ said Lightwood. ‘Shall we go?’ ‘Being here, let us stay. You ought to see it out, and I won’t leave you. Besides, that lonely girl with the dark hair runs in my head. It was little more than a glimpse we had of her that last time, and yet I almost see her waiting by the fire to-night. Do you feel like a dark combination of traitor and pickpocket when you think of that girl?’ ‘Rather,’ returned Lightwood. ‘Do you?’ ‘Very much so.’
This short exchange tells us a few things: 1) Eugene has noted the physicality of Lizzie - her dark hair - and her image (as we saw last chapter with the drawing) runs in his head; 2) they both feel bad about the effect of what they're involved in will have on Lizzie, but it clearly much more intense in Eugene; 3) Mortimer continues to follow Eugene's lead, both verbally and in the fact that he seems willing to leave a situation he 'ought' to stay in because Eugen has expressed discomfort with it; 4) Eugene says he "won't leave" Mortimer - this is phrased like an expression of loyalty of Mortimer... but pay attention to how far he carries this through and what causes him to leave.
Eugene goes with the Inspector to observe the place of concealment but also takes the opportunity to look in the window at Lizzie. Again, I'm willing to give Eugene the benefit of the doubt here and say that this is primarily coming from a place of concern and human decency - if a bit intensified beyond normal bounds by a growing interest in Lizzie - rather than being anything creepy.
When he gets back, he tells Mortimer where he has been and what he has seen - at this point of the book, at least, he doesn't feel that his interest in Lizzie is anything he needs to conceal from Mortimer.
They both continue to suffer uneasy consciences about what they are involved in, but they retain their ability to joke together and set off to rejoin the Inspector and Rogue Riderhood.
It passed into Mortimer Lightwood’s mind that a change of some sort, best expressed perhaps as an intensification of all that was wildest and most negligent and reckless in his friend, had come upon him in the last half-hour or so. Thoroughly used to him as he was, he found something new and strained in him that was for the moment perplexing. This passed into his mind, and passed out again; but he remembered it afterwards.
This paragraph is a great way of getting the audience to take particular note of how Eugene is behaving and how it's unusual even for him, by framing it through the lens of someone who knows him very well and knows how he normally behaves. I also think - for people who are reading it through a queer lens - it sets us up to consider how this interest of Eugene's in Lizzie will affect not only the two of them, but also Mortimer.
Eugene continues to display a particular interest in Lizzie - in his concern to "not make a show of her" and in his resentment and discomfort at the false construction put by the Inspector on her looking for her father.
The chapter ends with Riderhood going off to look for Gaffer and returning to say he's found Gaffer's boat and that Gaffer is "in luck again", meaning he has found a corpse, and the month's installment ends. [August's installment. Yes, I'm posting this in October. I fell behind in my posts 😅]
So essentially, to sum up chapter 12 and 13:
The beginning of chapter 12 seems to see a climax of everything we've seen from Eugene and Mortimer so far: we have seen them together as a duo; chapter 12 sees the end result of all this togetherness, them having "agreed to set up a joint establishment", forming a partnership and agreement to live together (at least temporarily), and simultaneously with this partnership between them, we see Eugene's explicitly reject his father's (and society's) amatonormative, heteronormative expectations of marriage to a woman, and make this rejection clear to Mortimer.
However, Rogue Riderhood enters with his accusation of murder, and we see that Eugene and Mortimer are no longer quite on the same page, and that the reason for that is Eugene's interest in Lizzie, a woman. Our attention is drawn to the fact that Mortimer doesn't really recognise that this is what is happening now, he will "remember it afterwards" and presumably understand the implications.
#august 1864#omf#omf part 4#part 4#eugene omf#mortimer omf#lizzie omf#queer reading omf#queer reading
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That feeling you get when you’ve read the book mentioned in the book you’re reading
#me reading#the doctor's wife#sometimes i haven't read them though#there's a lot of books mentioned#tdw
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Aaaahhhh! Yet another cliffhanger at the end of the installment of The Doctor's Wife... Braddon knew what she was doing to to get people buying that magazine monthly!
#and it's the victober group read so people are going to know how it ends and i have to wait til december! 😭#(bewailing as if this isn't exactly what I wanted when I decided to read sensation novels serially lol)#tdw#tdw part 10#part 10#october 1864
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Queer reading Chapter 11 of Our Mutual Friend:
The characters we're focusing on here are Mrs Sophronia Lammle and Miss Georgiana Podsnap. I have to admit I don't have a particularly queer reading of these two - I personally find a platonic reading of this relationship is more compelling, at least when thinking about Mrs Lammle and her development - but I've seen posts by at least one other person who appeared to read this relationship as queer, and since there is definitely textual support for such a reading, I thought I ought to cover it.
One things to note going in is that the Lammles are, essentially, scammers, and that Mrs Lammle's initial interest in Georgiana is insincere. It's predatory behaviour, regardless of whether or not either of them is queer, but I suppose in Mrs Lammle's defense: 1) she probably wouldn't have entered on this scheme without pressure from her abusive husband, and 2) she does not remain insincere, her interest in Georgiana does become genuine. Anyway, onwards to the actual queer reading:
Mrs Lammle refers to Miss Podsnap's "youth and attractions" and said she "sat over yonder looking at you" so she seems to express an attraction to her.
The conversation takes a turn towards the somewhat unconventional - first by Mrs Lammle's "insinuating tone" while talking about... just normal stuff, and then when Miss Podsnap implies she would probably get more enjoyment out of life if she were lower class; this is not in itself necessarily queer, but their ability to discuss this with each other so soon after having met potentially hints at unconventionality in other things and that there might be a sort of hidden layer below surface-level appearances;
In general, Miss Podsnap seems very uncomfortable in the conventional, constrained life she is expected to live;
As an extension of that, she hates the men she has to dance with (though we'll find out in a later chapter that she can sometimes have an interest in some men).
They quickly become on first-name terms and Mrs Lammle begins to refer to Miss Podsnap as "my love" and "dearest".
But if Mr Lammle were prone to be jealous of his dear Sophronia’s friendships, he would be jealous of her feeling towards Miss Podsnap. [...] [...] ‘For never have I known Sophronia (who is not apt to take sudden likings) so attracted and so captivated as she is [...]'
This 'jealousy' is insincere on Mr Lammle's part, but it's meant to imply to Georgiana that she manages to 'attract and captivate' Mrs Lammle similar to / in such a way that is a threat to Mr Lammle.
Georgiana, bless her heart, falls for their scam, and is eager to see Mrs Lammle again.
#georgiana omf#sophronia omf#alfred omf#omf#omf part 4#august 1864#yes i am very behind in making these posts 😅#queer reading omf#queer reading
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Good monthly installment of Luttrell of Arran too!
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‼️⁉️‼️
Just reached the end of chapter 29 of The Doctor's Wife
And because I'm reading it following the initial serial publication I have to wait AN ENTIRE MONTH until I can read the next chapter 😩😩😩
#why have i done this to myself#😩#i think it's her father?#and i think george may be really ill 😭#september 1864#tdw#tdw part 9#part 9#the doctor's wife
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Queer reading chapters 8 and 10 of our Mutual Friend:
Chapter 8:
I think this is the first time we see Mortimer Lightwood without the presence of Eugene Wrayburn, in his professional legal meeting with Mr Boffin.
However, by the end of the sequence (this chapter is essentially three sequences: 1. Mr Boffin & Blight, 2. Mr Boffin & Mortimer Lightwood, 3. Mr Boffin & John Rokesmith) Eugene makes an appearance. Since he appears in the doorway of Mortimer's office, I think it can be reasonably assumed that Eugene was coming to see Mortimer. It's not stated why Eugene is there. Had he and Mortimer perhaps arranged to have lunch together? Who knows - the point is, this early on in the book, we pretty much always see Eugene and Mortimer together. They are sometimes talked of apart, but when we, the audience, 'see' them in a scene, they're together for at least some of that scene.
Chapter 10:
Mortimer Lightwood, hilariously, takes the role of Mr Lammle's best man "though he doesn’t see what he has to do with it" because he doesn't really know him. Again, Mortimer is talked of without Eugene being mentioned, but whenever Mortimer is actually present within chapter 10, Eugene is mentioned soon afterwards.
Again, Dickens is drawing a connection between these two men and getting us to associate them with each other.
However, it's not really Eugene and Mortimer I thinks are particularly queer in this chapter, but Mr Twemlow:
And after that, the bridesmaids begin to come by rail-road from various parts of the country, and to come like adorable recruits enlisted by a sergeant not present; for, on arriving at the Veneering depot, they are in a barrack of strangers. So, Twemlow goes home [...] and is distinctly aware of a dint in his heart, made by the most adorable of the adorable bridesmaids. For, the poor little harmless gentleman once had his fancy, like the rest of us, and she didn’t answer (as she often does not), and he thinks the adorable bridesmaid is like the fancy as she was then (which she is not at all), [...]. Brooding over the fire, with his dried little head in his dried little hands, and his dried little elbows on his dried little knees, Twemlow is melancholy. ‘No Adorable to bear me company here!’ thinks he. ‘No Adorable at the club! A waste, a waste, a waste, my Twemlow!’ And so drops asleep, and has galvanic starts all over him.
HELLO?
'No adorable [at home]; no adorable at the club'?!?
When I first read Our Mutual Friend a couple of years ago, I stopped the audiobook at this point and just sat there like, 'surely this cannot be a canon bisexual character in 1864?' But in the couple of years since then I have neither seen nor thought of a sufficiently compelling alternative explanation.
Here's the thing: from what I can tell, women were not allowed to join clubs during the 1860s. Later in the century, ladies would be able to join certain clubs, and a little in advance of that they might be allowed into men's clubs on special visitors days. But during the 1860s neither of those things could happen. The members of clubs were all men. Even the customer-facing staff (such as waiters) would be men. The only women who would be allowed in the building at all would be servants in non-customer facing roles (so you wouldn't even get a barmaid, as you would at a pub). Men from out of town who stayed in the bedrooms set aside for that purpose might see women tending their fires and doing other menial tasks, but the likelihood that Mr Twemlow (who lives in London) would even see a woman at his club is slim, and that he would be able to see her often enough to be able to develop any kind of 'companionship' with her at the club, much slimmer. And if he did, it would be a lower-class woman, not someone of his own class.
(And if what Twemlow was lamenting here was the lack of companionship from a lower-class woman, I really think Dickens would make more use of that, considering the class themes in the novel as a whole, considering one of the novel's main love stories, and considering Twemlow's role in the final chapter)
Clubs were very homosocial spaces, and homosocial bonds were forged there.
It really does seem to me Mr Twemlow is lamenting his lack of having any man at the club he shares a particular homosocial bond with, and who would keep him company there. He laments this equally with lamenting that there is nobody at his home to keep him company (as a wife might), and in the context of thinking about a woman he almost married, implying that the hypothetical 'adorable at the club' would be the equivalent of a hypothetical wife.
(This idea is given strength, I think, by the final chapter and who he is paired with in that chapter)
This really does seem about as close to canon bisexuality as you can get in a mainstream British novel in the 1860s.
(And in terms of how Dickens 'got away with' including this, my assumption is that people who would not be willing to entertain the idea that an 'adorable [man] at the club' could be an equal companion to a man as a woman at home could be, would basically think something along the lines of 'haha silly Twemlow, how could there be an adorable at the club')
Not really related to queer reading, but: I think it's interesting that Twemlow thinks his lack of companionship is "A waste, a waste, a waste," considering the other types of waste, and the reuse of waste, that this book explores.
[EDITED TO ADD: if anyone comes upon this in future and does have an alternative explanation for "adorable at the club", or any other information about women in clubs, or anything either supporting or denying my ideas here, please please do let me know.]
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End of July's part of The Doctor's Wife. Don't have much to say other than 😩😩😩😩😩😩
#cannot believe i have to wait until next month to read on#why have i done this to myself#isabel tdw#😩#roland tdw#gilbert tdw#😭#tdw#july 1864#tdw part 7#part 7
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He goes, in a condescending amateurish way, into the City, attends meetings of Directors, and has to do with traffic in Shares. As is well known to the wise in their generation, traffic in Shares is the one thing to have to do with in this world. Have no antecedents, no established character, no cultivation, no ideas, no manners; have Shares. Have Shares enough to be on Boards of Direction in capital letters, oscillate on mysterious business between London and Paris, and be great. Where does he come from? Shares. Where is he going to? Shares. What are his tastes? Shares. Has he any principles? Shares. What squeezes him into Parliament? Shares. Perhaps he never of himself achieved success in anything, never originated anything, never produced anything? Sufficient answer to all; Shares. O mighty Shares! To set those blaring images so high, and to cause us smaller vermin, as under the influence of henbane or opium, to cry out, night and day, ‘Relieve us of our money, scatter it for us, buy us and sell us, ruin us, only we beseech ye take rank among the powers of the earth, and fatten on us’!
- Chapter 10, Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens
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