?Written after 1867 (October) when he became editor of St
Paul's
Published 1869 (November), St Paul's
Published in a book 1870 (June), An Editor's Tales, Strahan
To Trollope-l
March 9, 1998
Re: Short Story: "Mary Gresley"
I admit the first time I read this story I didn't like itl. I was not amused by Trollope's depiction how, as a middle-aged man, he felt himself helplessly allured by the overtly sweet stance of a pretty seemingly helpless young girl in desperate need of a contact who will help her break into the literary marketplace.
The tone of the piece still feels cloying. Trollope is aware he could get this reaction and tries to disarm the reader by talking of how Thackeray was wrong to call Sterne "hard names" when Sterne revealed how intensely affectionate he felt towards young women who he found physically appealing when he grew old. Surely he seems to say we ought not to reject what is natural and real in human nature, and he argues that what is wrong in Sterne is his lack of aesthetic ability to put such a feeling across with good taste. The problem with Sterne, says Trollope, is his "expression" is "mawkish" and "too often he misses the pathos for which he strives from a want of appreciation on his own part of that which is really vigorous in language." This is a good criticism of The Sentimental Journey. Further, says Trollope, he never acted on the physical longing and intense affection he felt--to "us" (the editorial we must be allowed--as it has an ironical ring) she "was ever a child."
Rose Trollope was very patient with him if he showed even half of of the "unreasoning sympathy,exacted by feminine attraction" on his aging male heart. It may be true that according to Boswell Johnson was the same to young girls--and this explains some of Johnson's behavior to the young Fanny Burney. But as a woman of 50 who cannot expect to ignite such emotions, until today I a hard time allowing myself to identify.
For reading it tonight I likedit. I have now read a number of commentaries scattered here and there on "Mary Gresley" and it is often signalled out as "very good." Sutherland writes of it that is is "one of the most moving tales Trollope wrote and is a classic anatomization of Platonic middle-aged love." Maybe the reason I liked it this time is I got beyond my jealousy of Mary? and instead found myself identifying with her, admiring her considerable strength--for she's not helpless at all--and at the close sorrowing for her that she destroyed this piece of herself for a dream, for a man who was not worthy of her.
Some of the story recalls Charlotte Bronte, both in her real life and in her tales of long-enduring women. In fact Charlotte Bronte herself is Mary's role model. Mary was not playing a part when she held the editor's hand so very tightly, but it's not the whole of her story anyway. The close is very moving: her destruction of her manuscript, her marriage to a missionary and death in Africa. I was touched by her ability to transcend the silly didactic tales of her day and make them charming by pouring her own wit and irony about herself into them. I was of course indignant at how she obeyed that man and destroyed her book. The key sentence here is our editor's "Such a promise [after having destroyed her novel not to write another] should not have been asked,--or given" (Sutherland, p 114). How terrible she should have destroyed these parts of herself.
The story also contains the burden of Fred Pickering's, to wit, unless you are both a genius and have great good luck, you must not try to make your living through writing great books. There is a long apprentice period, and even then you may fail. It must be admitted, as the editor knows full well, he is not harsh towards Mary in his enunciation of this truth:
"'You hear of the few who are remunerated,' we said; 'but you hear nothing of the thousands that fail.''It is so noble!' she replied.
'But so hopeless.'
'There are those who succeed.'
'Yes, ineed. Even in a lottery one must gain the prize; but they who trsut to lotteries break their hearts'' (p 103).
The most interesting section of the tale is the depiction of how the editor describes Mary's first book, and how he works with her to help her write another. "The Panjandrum" gives us a graphic and persuasive depiction of how Trollope's stories came to him, how he lived with his characters, developed them, and then spun narratives. One can read this one as the story of a teacher or pupil, or the story of how some people put together the outer or barebones of a story. I believe the depiction of the young woman's first story reflects the autobiographical origins of some of Trollope's own--again his autobiography like mine would be different from Mary's, but he started with what he knew and felt passionately about from within the heart of his experience. That is what we see in the start of the story the writer of "The Panjandrum" invents. The values are interesting: her first story is "simple, unaffected, almost painfully unsensational." I believe Trollope often strove for this--as did Jane Austen as she matured. Trollope also values "a grace and delicacy in [the] work which is charming."
What poor Mary lacks is psychological insight and an ability with dialogue. It is a serious flaw in a novel, one none of Trollope's have. But interestingly he thinks she still might make it. And he's right. Many a novelist writes good novels who has not this gift: long ago there was Fielding; today I think ASByatt is not very strong in this regard, and that's why her historical novels and antique fairy tales often read more strongly than her modern stories.
Well I would be very interested to hear what others who are reading along think of this one.
Ellen Moody
From: Oldbuks In reading "Mary Gresley," I noticed a referral to Currer Bell in one of Mary's
early conversations with our narrator. One could see how she came up with the
comparison. Both poor, with scant prospects, overcoming considerable
obstacles to their passion for writing. There was one significant difference,
however. Mary was attractive, and Charlotte was, by her own admission, not.
They both submitted their writing to a higher authority at about the same age:
Mary 18, and Charlotte, 19. Being aware of her lack of physical charms, and
even more reluctant to intrude on the great one's presence, Charlotte sent a
sample of her poetry to Robert Southey, the poet laureate at the time (rather
than showing up at his doorstep). The following is excerpted from his
response, from Elizabeth Gaskell's Life of Charlotte Bronte (which we are
reading on Bronte-L)
' It is not my advice that you have asked as to the direction of your
talents, but my opinion of them, and yet the opinion may be worth little, and
the advice much. You evidently possess, and in no inconsiderable degree, what
Wordsworth calls "the faculty of verse." I am not depreciating it when I say
that in these times it is not rare. Many volumes of poems are now published
every year without attracting public attention, any one of which, if it had
appeared half a century ago, would have obtained a high reputation for its
author. Whoever, therefore, is ambitious of distinction in this way ought to
be prepared for disappointment.
''But it is not with a view to distinction that you should cultivate this
talent, if you consult your own happiness. I, who have made literature my
profession, and devoted my life to it, and have never for a moment repented of
the deliberate choice, think myself, nevertheless, bound in duty to caution
every young man who applies as an aspirant to me for encouragement and advice,
against taking so perilous a course. You will say that a woman has no need of
such a caution; there can be no peril in it for her. In a certain sense this
is true; but there is a danger of which I would, in all kindness and in all
earnestness, warn you. The day dreams in which you habitually indulge are
likely to induce a distempered state of mind; and in proportion as all the
ordinary uses of the world seem to you flat and unprofitable, you will be
unfitted for them without becoming fitted for anything else. Literature
cannot be the business of a woman's life, and it ought not to be. The more
she is engaged in her proper duties, the less leisure will she have for it,
even as an accomplishment and a recreation. To those duties you have not yet
been called, and when you are you will be less eager for celebrity. You will
not seek in imagination for excitement, of which the vicissitudes of this
life, and the anxieties from which you must not hope to be exempted, be your
state be what it may, will bring with them but too much.
''But do not suppose that I disparage the gift which you possess; nor
that I would discourage you from exercising it. I only exhort you so to think
of it, and so to use it, as to render it conducive to your own permanent good.
Write poetry for its own sake; not in a spirit of emulation, and not with a
view to celebrity; the less you aim at that, the more likely you will be to
deserve and finally to obtain it. So written, it is wholesome both for the
heart and soul; it may be made the surest means, next to religion, of
soothing the mind and elevating it. You may embody it in your best thoughts
and your wisest feelings, and in so doing discipline and strengthen them.
''Farewell madam. It is not because I have forgotten that I was once
young myself, that I write to you in this strain; but because I remember it.
You will neither doubt my sincerity nor my good will; and however ill what
has here been said may accord with your present views and temper, the longer
you live the more reasonable it will appear to you. Though I may be but an
ungracious adviser, you will allow me therefore, to subscribe myself, with the
best wishes for your happiness here and hereafter, your true friend,
"Robert Southey' 'Charlotte Bronte, a person of more talent than Mr. Southey (who remembers him
now?), let alone Mary Gresley, did not contemplate playing upon a susceptible
man's sensibilities by " ... looking at [him] with those bright, beseeching
eyes." She continued to write, submitting a novel, The Professor, which was
sent to publisher after publisher, wrapped in a brown paper parcel. "Beside
the address to Messrs. Smith and Co. [the publisher of Jane Eyre), there
were on it those of other publishers to whom the tale had been sent, not
obliterated, but simply scored through, so that Messers. Smith at once
perceived the names of some of the houses in the trade to which the unlucky
parcel had gone, without success." (also from Life of Charlotte Bronte by
EG) Somehow I cannot imagine Mary having the fortitude to brave rejection
after rejection. She saw she had lucked onto a man who would be susceptible
to her charms, and she unhesitatingly used her advantage.
'This is plenty long enough. I will continue in another post.
'Jill Spriggs
To: trollope-l@teleport.com To continue the post I began last night:
I have a problem with the contradictory aspects of Mary's personality. She
was an uncharacteristically strong and determined woman for her time (and,
actually, for ours). She was willing to uproot her home, sending her less
attractive (and assertive) sister off to undisclosed relatives, and taking a
leap in the dark by moving her mother and herself to a strange city, on the
admittedly remote chance of being able to support themselves on her literary
earnings. P. G. Wodehouse did not quit his job as a bank clerk until he was
well established as an author, and we all know that Anthony Trollope spent
many years as an employee of the postal service before he felt comfortable
enough with his earnings to retire. This was the central problem with Fred
Pickering. He should have established himself in a more reliably remunerative
profession before trying to live by his pen. Mary's problem is not unlike
Fred's, with the exception that she had the prospect of marriage for her
future bread and butter. For someone who was supposed to be in love with her
curate, why did she embark on a career of novel writing when she knew full
well how her fiance felt about novels? This to me indicates a rather strong
willed person. Did she feel no compunctions about apparently wasting many
months of our editor's time? Apparently not, and our narrator was too
infatuated to feel resentment for her action. When I commenced the story, I
made a mistaken guess as to the direction it would take. I pictured the
curate as a tyrant, who, when he discovered the forbidden manuscript,
destroyed it. I was all on Mary's side as a feeble female under the thumb of
a despotic male. Instead, she proved to be a quixotic, inexplicable woman who
destroyed the work of over a year in an attempt to atone for defying her loved
one, eventually suffering the fate of St. John Rivers in Jane Eyre. This
makes no sense to me. Of course, humankind is often not sensible. But I feel
the contradictions in Mary are so great as to strain credulity.
Jill Spriggs
hansenb@frb.gov Jill, I enjoyed very much your posts on Mary Gresley's approach to
getting published in contrast to that taken by the Brontes.
Yes, The Professo was rejected by all and the book of Bell poems sold
just a couple of copies, but luckily the Brontes turned out to be
geniuses and shortly thereafter blew the literary world away by
submitting the manuscripts for WH, Tenant, and JE.
The difference
between Mary Gresley and the Brontes was talent. One suspects that
had the Brontes submitted just some scraps of juvenilia instead of
their blockbusters, they would have continued to be rejected. Luckily
for their timid natures, they never did have to go to London to sit in
an editor's office a la Mary Gresley. As you know, what DID
eventually bring them to London was the necessity to clear up the
confusion that arose over just how many Bells there were. That trip
cost them much anxiety.
What I'm trying to say is that a woman does what she has to do. Mary
Gresley had little talent but much courage and so she gathered herself
up and went to London to cast herself on an editor. I cannot answer
the interesting questions you ask in the second post, and I agree
about the contradictions in Mary. In a way, Trollope liked Mary but
didn't know what to do with her. Do you feel that she was punished in
some way by the author's giving her a St. John Rivers fate? I do, a
little.
Bart
Jill answered Bart:
I guess I wanted Mary to show more consistently the fire shown in the early
part of the story, and be a little more like Jane Eyre, resisting the prospect
of being buried alive for her religion in some tropical clime. I like the
early Mary better than the later Mary. I'm afraid a woman with her strength
of purpose was not acceptable for her Victorian society.
Jill Spriggs
Someone whose post I have lost misread Jill's commentary about the
ending of the tale, and Jill replied again:
I do hope that i didn't give the impression in one of my posts that I felt AT
was killing off Mary Gresley. My problem with the story is that it almost
seems to be about two different Marys. Now it occurs to me that I might find
clues to her in my own personality. I tend to have an over active conscience
and worry inordinately about hurting others' feelings. I suspect that Mary
felt guilty about being "selfish", pursuing her own desires instead of
complying with her fiance's wishes. Given the Sunday School type of moral
code so many people live by, she could have felt that God was punishing her by
taking away her love. She spent the rest of her life trying to atone for this
sin, first by burning the offensive manuscript, and then by immolating herself
on a pyre of self sacrifice in a far away land of heathens.
What do you think?
Jill
To Trollope-L
March 17, 1998
RE: Short Story: "Mary Gresley" Is Still Us
Before we go on to talk of "Josphine de Montmorency,"
otherwise known as Polly Puffle (our next editor's tale), here are
a few more comments about the first story in this
collection of "editor's tales" which centers on a female
writer and some of the obstacles, psychological,
financial, and social which get in her way. Many
of us (including me) have been so strongly struck
by the sexual atmosphere in which the narrator
"bathes" his young-lady author that we have ignored
some of other equally striking and perhaps today
more generally interesting aspects of this tale.
Some of my thoughts come from a conversation Jill
Spriggs and I have had off-list about this story, and
I hope she won't mind if I quote some of what she
said. Actually I am not sure if she put this on the
list or sent it to me privately. In two posts she
commented on Mary:
And a little later:
These are astute comments and bring forward some
of what Trollope wants us to see in Mary. One important
theme which may be found throughout his oeuvre is the
effect of too much rigid or narrow religion upon people's
real fulfillment in this world. For myself I "find clues to [Mary] in my own personality.
I hope this will not embarrass people, but I think Mary's
inability to act on her own, and her need of someone to
reinforce and urge her on to write again is still common
among women. (For all I know it is common among
men, but since I am not a man cannot say.) When I was
young and wrote a couple of short stories, I remember
showing them to my father; one he liked very much and
I sent it into a contest and won 2nd place. The other
he didn't like, and made a disparaging remark, and
I tore it up. I am very aware of how much my husband's
encouragement has meant to me over the years I
have lived with him in Alexandria. Every once in
a while (maybe more often than that) I shall, Shall
I go on, Shall I give this up? And he always says,
Go on, and even sometimes asks to see whatever it is I am
doing and then reads it. I think were he to discourage
me against doing something I would not do it. I know
one reason I don't try a novel is he thinks it's a bad
idea: "Won't sell;" "look at the thousands on slush
piles and remaindered;" "your opinions will not do;"
and so on.
In Mary's eagerness to have our editor work
with her we have a moving depiction of just this need
to have approval as you go along; in her destruction
of her manuscript we have an even sharper depiction
of what can happen if a person whose opinion of
you is very important or respected says the manuscript
is no good.
Mary's immolation of herself is still
with us among women. Most of us are not going on
missionary ventures, but many women will bend
over backwards doing far more for their children,
allowing their children to take over their time and
personalities in ways that are not good for the
child to "compensate" for lost time. They are perhaps
unwilling to discipline a child they have been ignoring
for hours on end. A similar reaction might influence
a wife's attitude towards her husband. She might
be grateful for that which she need not be grateful
for.
Jill also wrote: "I did not feel AT was punishing Mary,
but rather that she was punishing herself. I felt unhappy
because this is not the way a self confident person would act;
maybe Mary wasn't as sure of herself as she let
on."
The ending is not punitive on the
part of Trollope towards Mary: he is showing us how
she has been coerced into destroying an important
part of herself.. I don't think the man who
wrote the story could have written an ending in which he
killed her off to teach us a lesson. As I say what view of
Trollope himself could someone have who drew this
conclusion? It would also be completely out of kilter
with what we know of his life and relationships with
women as women and authors. He is against a woman
selling her pen corruptly, selling words which will
corrupt a reader morally or intellectually. That's
clear from TWWLN and in what we can observe
of his attitude towards writing itself in his own case
and in the case of others he knew. He thinks so
highly of Thackeray because he sees Thackeray
as a brilliantly perceptively moral teacher, partly
because he thinks Thackeray's characters are so
real and we learn from living with them through the
events of a story.
The woman who is not
confident is still with us. The public _persona_
demanded of women today forbids confessions
of feelings of inadequacy, but every once in a while
a well-known female author will write a bit of
the truth. Then she may be partly condemned.
Gloria Steinem wrote a book about herself
which told truths about how she depended on
men, lent on them, made someone's view of her
her view, and told how of how her beauty was
important to her. For the book the reviewers
(mostly women) damned her with faint praise.
Finally to pick up the other "aspect" of the story,
the editor's sexual attraction to Mary, and her
use of this (however unconscious or conscious),
this too is still with us. Women are still selling
what they can.
Ellen Moody
From: Oldbuks Dearest Ellen;
That was in part why I sent the post clarifying what I had said about the
ending, that I did not feel AT was punishing Mary, but rather that she was
punishing herself. I felt unhappy because this is not the way a self
confident person would act; maybe Mary wasn't as sure of herself as she let
on.
Love, There were some questions about the "editorial" we and a joke about Mary's dimples (in
Trollope a sexual woman usually has dimples), to which I responded:
This to Bart and others who are reading these stories:
When I read "An Editor's Tales" with my students, a number
of them also had trouble with the editorial "we." I couldn't
understand why. All he means is himself as representative
of his periodical. Literally he refers to him ("I, " and
"me); he uses the "we" as a kind of joke or irony in the
manner a king uses "we." It never refers to anyone
else literally but him. Not to his wife, not to anyone.
It is a kind of mild self-mockery or deprecation of his
power as "editor."
Sutherland uses the word "Platonic" partly in the manner
of Renaissance or 17th century poetry: it means erotically
drawn to the lady but not actually consummated, so its
connotations are actually sexual, but there is a semi-
ironic undertone of sexual arousal. It is drawn from
so-called "neo"-platonic discourses like that of
Bembo and other Italians of the period and enters
English through the poetry of the Cavaliers. Thus
our editor's love is Platonic because he does not
have sex with the lady, but it is also nonetheless
highly erotic in feel or tone.
I did notice Mary's dimples.
Ellen
To Trollope-l: I include below the following thread on the first person narrator which
I have also placed with "The
Turkish Bath"
March 9, 1998
Re: Short Stories: "The Turkish Bath" and "Mary Gresley"
I too liked both stories very much, and agree that if we are
to take the depiction of Trollope as editor as anything like
the truth, he was very kind. Trollope said that these
stories were rooted and sometimes closely mirrored
real experiences he had. Of "The Turkish Bath" he
wrote in An Autobiography that it was based on
an actual experience of his--with the "embellishment
of the Turkish Bath:" "an ingenious gentleman
got into a conversation with me, I not knowing that
he knew me to be an editor, and pressed his
little article on my notice." Of "Mary Gresley" he said that
when he was editor of St Paul's: "I was appealed
to by the dearest of little women whom here I have
called Mary Gresley."
There is, however, one qualification of the above beyond
the embellishments to the stories, which embellishments
are very important--like Mr Molloy's Irishness and
madness or Mrs Molloy's strength; or the violation
of the young girl's right to an imagination by the
religious narrowmindedness and downright stupidity
of a male curate-fiance. Sutherland says the insiration
for the sequence was also one of Thackeray's
finest "Roundabout Essays," "Thorns in the Cushion" in
which Thackeray presents himself as the long-suffering
editor whose "heart-aches" to the point that he is continually
helping and visiting his would-be authors. I have not read
this one, but I will have a look later this week because I
own it somewhere or other. Sutherland says Trollope's
aim was to "further investigate the power, pains, and pathos
of being an editor," with this difference: Trollope adds
"comedy and intermittent editorial rage." We don't
see any of this in the above two.
We can't tell how well any of the stories did individually
because they were published in a volume called An
Editor's Tales. If the pride and detail with which Trollope
discusses the volume is any index, I would say the
volume sold well. Each of the stories is identified with
a "remembrance of some fact." He identifies--and
Sutherland agrees--"The Spotted Dog" as the best
story he ever wrote. Sutherland says the volume
as a whole is "a high plateau in Trollope's career
as a short story writer:" what comes across most
strongly in almost all of them... is Trollope's good heart."
I would add to this a thorough knowledge of the
peculiar workings of people's imagination, their
longings to use it, the realities of the literary
marketplace, and of course his usual psychological
astuteness.
It is very much worth it to read what Trollope had
to say about this volume in his Autobiography
and what Sutherland says in his introduction
to The Later Short Stories.
Ellen Moody
From a posting by Heidi Hope Johnson on my comments
on the use of the first-person narrator in Trollope's Editor's Tales:
Especially in the story's early portions, I thought this was precisely the
way use of the editorial "we" was functioning for the narrator: it is a
way for him to maintain some dignity through a sort of linguistic garb to
make up for his lack of physical garb. Here, and also throughout the
story, this struggle between the man's thoughts and reactions, and the way
they are only imperfectly submerged in the "we," is not only fascinating
to chart but comedic. I am curious, though, about the "I" that surfaces
once (I think it's only once) in the story: page 78 of the OUP edition,
end of the story's 6th paragraph. Any ideas about why this deviation or
slip? I haven't yet read any of the others from An Editor's Tales--does
this appear anywhere else?
To Trollope-l
March 11, 1998
Re: Short Story: "The Turkish Bath" and "Mary Gresley"
Heidi Hope Johnson mentions the sudden "drop" from
the editiorial "we" into "I" in "The Turkish Bath" (Sutherland
p 78). I suppose it's a slip in the sense that if we
could ask Trollope, "What happened?" he might look
and say "oops!" But the immediate context for the
slip is revealing: Mr Molloy has just spoken in such
a way as to put on "a splendid face" with just that
touch of self-irony and accent that makes our narrator
tell us he began to suspect he was talking to an Irishman,
and for two phrases he then expresses his personal
delight in the idea: "I thought that I detected just a hint of an
Irish accent in his tone; but if so the dear brogue
of his country, which is always delightful to me..."
Not only two "I's" but a "me." I put the change down to
this: the "we" is used to indicate Trollope's position
as "powerful editor," with of course considerable
self-deprecation." But in this sentence his attraction
to the man, and his feelings about the Irish have nothing to do with
his being an editor. They are the result of a personal
experience of his, an experience in "private" life,
in his capacity as Man Who Went to Live in
Ireland (as postal surveyor). So he drops the
"we." Trollope does not want that slightly "twee"
(for that's what it is) kind of irony here. He need
no longer half-laughs at his pretensions as he
writes about experiences which are the result of this
highly limited power of his.
It's not irrelevant to interject here
that Thackeray uses this editorial "we" in "Thorns in
a Cushion" and other places in Roundabout Papers
when referring to himself as the editor. When
Thackeray talks about himself in his private
capacity, as a man having feelings or thoughts
or experiences outside his apparently "powerful" position
as editor, he too will drop the "we."
Ellen Moody
Date: Tue, 10 Mar 1998
To: trollope-l@teleport.com
Subject: Short Stories: "Mary Gresley"
" ' ... it is in truth not an easy task to answer it [Charlotte's
letter], nor a pleasant one to cast a damp over the high spirits and the
generous desires of youth ... What you are I can only infer from your letter,
which appears to be written in sincerity, though, I may suspect that you have
used a fictitious signature. Be that as it may, the letter and the verses
bear the same stamp, and I can well understand the state of mind they
indicate.
Subject: Short Stories: "Mary Gresley" (Continued)
Date: Wed, 11 Mar 1998
Subject: Short Story: Mary Gresley & the Bells
To: trollope-l@teleport.com
"I guess I wanted Mary to show more consistently the
fire shown in the early part of the story, and be a little
more like Jane Eyre, resisting the prospect
of being buried alive for her religion in some tropical clime.
I like the early Mary better than the later Mary. I'm afraid
a woman with her strength of purpose was not acceptable
for her Victorian society."
"My problem with the story is that it almost seems to be about
two different Marys. Now it occurs to me that I might find
clues to her in my own personality. I tend to have an over active
conscience and worry inordinately about hurting others' feelings.
I suspect that Mary felt guilty about being "selfish", pursuing
her own desires instead of complying with her fiance's wishes.
Given the Sunday School type of moral code so many people
live by, she could have felt that God was punishing her by
taking away her love. She spent the rest of her life trying to
atone for this sin, first by burning the offensive manuscript,
and then by immolating herself on a pyre of self sacrifice in a
far away land of heathens."
Date: Thu, 12 Mar 1998
Subject: Misunderstandings
Jill
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