Odd Women

George Gissing

Description

One of the acknowledged masterpieces of Victorian-era literary realism, George Gissing's novel The Odd Women portrays the plight of unmarried women in nineteenth-century England, probing the question of the financial and psychological well-being of those who were not able to find suitable matches. Recognized by critics as an early feminist text, this novel is a must-read for fans of historical -- and socially significant -- fiction.

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 octobre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781775419259
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE ODD WOMEN
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GEORGE GISSING
 
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The Odd Women First published in 1893 ISBN 978-1-775419-25-9 © 2010 The Floating Press
While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike.
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Contents
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Chapter I - The Fold and the Shepherd Chapter II - Adrift Chapter III - An Independent Woman Chapter IV - Monica's Majority Chapter V - The Casual Acquaintance Chapter VI - A Camp of the Reserve Chapter VII - A Social Advance Chapter VIII - Cousin Everard Chapter IX - The Simple Faith Chapter X - First Principles Chapter XI - At Nature's Bidding Chapter XII - Weddings Chapter XIII - Discord of Leaders Chapter XIV - Motives Meeting Chapter XV - The Joys of Home Chapter XVI - Health from the Sea Chapter XVII - The Triumph Chapter XVIII - A Reinforcement Chapter XIX - The Clank of the Chains Chapter XX - The First Lie Chapter XXI - Towards the Decisive Chapter XXII - Honour in Difficulties Chapter XXIII - In Ambush Chapter XXIV - Tracked Chapter XXV - The Fate of the Ideal Chapter XXVI - The Unideal Tested Chapter XXVII - The Reascent Chapter XXVIII - The Burden of Futile Souls Chapter XXIX - Confession and Counsel Chapter XXX - Retreat with Honour Chapter XXXI - A New Beginning
Chapter I - The Fold and the Shepherd
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'So to-morrow, Alice,' said Dr. Madden, as he walked with his eldestdaughter on the coast-downs by Clevedon, 'I shall take steps forinsuring my life for a thousand pounds.'
It was the outcome of a long and intimate conversation. Alice Madden,aged nineteen, a plain, shy, gentle-mannered girl, short of stature,and in movement something less than graceful, wore a pleased look asshe glanced at her father's face and then turned her eyes across theblue channel to the Welsh hills. She was flattered by the confidencereposed in her, for Dr. Madden, reticent by nature, had never beenknown to speak in the domestic circle about his pecuniary affairs. Heseemed to be the kind of man who would inspire his children withaffection: grave but benign, amiably diffident, with a hint of lurkingmirthfulness about his eyes and lips. And to-day he was in the best ofhumours; professional prospects, as he had just explained to Alice,were more encouraging than hitherto; for twenty years he had practisedmedicine at Clevedon, but with such trifling emolument that the needsof his large family left him scarce a margin over expenditure; now, atthe age of forty-nine—it was 1872—he looked forward with a largerhope. Might he not reasonably count on ten or fifteen more years ofactivity? Clevedon was growing in repute as a seaside resort; newhouses were rising; assuredly his practice would continue to extend.
'I don't think girls ought to be troubled about this kind of thing,' headded apologetically. 'Let men grapple with the world; for, as the oldhymn says, "'tis their nature to." I should grieve indeed if I thoughtmy girls would ever have to distress themselves about money matters.But I find I have got into the habit, Alice, of talking to you verymuch as I should talk with your dear mother if she were with us.'
Mrs. Madden, having given birth to six daughters, had fulfilled herfunction in this wonderful world; for two years she had been resting inthe old churchyard that looks upon the Severn sea. Father and daughtersighed as they recalled her memory. A sweet, calm, unpretending woman;admirable in the domesticities; in speech and thought distinguished bya native refinement, which in the most fastidious eyes would haveestablished her claim to the title of lady. She had known but littlerepose, and secret anxieties told upon her countenance long before thefinal collapse of health.
'And yet,' pursued the doctor—doctor only by courtesy—when he hadstooped to pluck and examine a flower, 'I made a point of neverdiscussing these matters with her. As no doubt you guess, life has beenrather an uphill journey with us. But the home must be guarded againstsordid cares to the last possible moment; nothing upsets me more thanthe sight of those poor homes where wife and children are obliged totalk from morning to night of how the sorry earnings shall be laid out.No, no; women, old or young, should never have to think about money.
The magnificent summer sunshine, and the western breeze that tasted ofocean, heightened his natural cheeriness. Dr. Madden fell into afamiliar strain of prescience.
'There will come a day, Alice, when neither man nor woman is troubledwith such sordid care. Not yet awhile; no, no; but the day will come.Human beings are not destined to struggle for ever like beasts of prey.Give them time; let civilization grow. You know what our poet says:"There the common sense of most shall hold a fretful realm in awe—"'
He quoted the couplet with a subdued fervour which characterized theman and explained his worldly lot. Elkanah Madden should never haveentered the medical profession; mere humanitarianism had prompted thechoice in his dreamy youth; he became an empiric, nothing more. 'Ourpoet,' said the doctor; Clevedon was chiefly interesting to him for itsliterary associations. Tennyson he worshipped; he never passedColeridge's cottage without bowing in spirit. From the contact ofcoarse actualities his nature shrank.
When he and Alice returned from their walk it was the hour of familytea. A guest was present this afternoon; the eight persons who sat downto table were as many as the little parlour could comfortably contain.Of the sisters, next in age to Alice came Virginia, a pretty butdelicate girl of seventeen. Gertrude, Martha, and Isabel, ranging fromfourteen to ten, had no physical charm but that of youthfulness; Isabelsurpassed her eldest sister in downright plainness of feature. Theyoungest, Monica, was a bonny little maiden only just five years old,dark and bright-eyed.
The parents had omitted no care in shepherding their fold. Partly athome, and partly in local schools, the young ladies had receivedinstruction suitable to their breeding, and the elder ones weredisposed to better this education by private study. The atmosphere ofthe house was intellectual; books, especially the poets, lay in everyroom. But it never occurred to Dr. Madden that his daughters would dowell to study with a professional object. In hours of melancholy he hadof course dreaded the risks of life, and resolved, always withpostponement, to make some practical provision for his family; ineducating them as well as circumstances allowed, he conceived that hewas doing the next best thing to saving money, for, if a fatalitybefell, teaching would always be their resource. The thought, however,of his girls having to work for money was so utterly repulsive to himthat he could never seriously dwell upon it. A vague piety supportedhis courage. Providence would not deal harshly with him and his dearones. He enjoyed excellent health; his practice decidedly improved. Theone duty clearly before him was to set an example of righteous life,and to develop the girls' minds—in every proper direction. For, as totraining them for any path save those trodden by English ladies of thefamiliar type, he could not have dreamt of any such thing. Dr. Madden'shopes for the race were inseparable from a maintenance of morals andconventions such as the average man assumes in his estimate of women.
The guest at table was a young girl named Rhoda Nunn. Tall, thin,eager-looking, but with promise of bodily vigour, she was singled at aglance as no member of the Madden family. Her immaturity (but fifteen,she looked two years older) appeared in nervous restlessness, and inher manner of speaking, childish at times in the hustling ofinconsequent thoughts, yet striving to imitate the talk of her seniors.She had a good head, in both senses of the phrase; might or might notdevelop a certain beauty, but would assuredly put forth the fruits ofintellect. Her mother, an invalid, was spending the summer months atClevedon, with Dr. Madden for medical adviser, and in this way the girlbecame friendly with the Madden household. Its younger members shetreated rather condescendingly; childish things she had long ago putaway, and her sole pleasure was in intellectual talk. With a franknesspeculiar to her, indicative of pride, Miss Nunn let it be known thatshe would have to earn her living, probably as a school teacher; studyfor examinations occupied most of her day, and her hours of leisurewere frequently spent either at the Maddens or with a family namedSmithson—people, these latter, for whom she had a profound andsomewhat mysterious admiration. Mr. Smithson, a widower with aconsumptive daughter, was a harsh-featured, rough-voiced man of aboutfive-and-thirty, secretly much disliked by Dr. Madden because of hisaggressive radicalism; if women's observation could be trusted, RhodaNunn had simply fallen in love with him, had made him, perhapsunconsciously, the object of her earliest passion. Alice and Virginiacommented on the fact in their private colloquy with a shamefacedamusement; they feared that it spoke ill for the young lady's breeding.None the less they thought Rhoda a remarkable person, and listened toher utterances respectfully.
'And what is your latest paradox, Miss Nunn?' inquired the doctor, withgrave facetiousness, when he had looked round the young faces at hisboard.
'Really, I forget, doctor. Oh, but I wanted to ask you, Do you thinkwomen ought to sit in Parliament?'
'Why, no,' was the response, as if after due consideration. 'If theyare there at all they ought to stand.'
'Oh, I can't get you to talk seriou