Brontës (148 page)

behaved himself, wisely, soberly, and piously – He has greatly promoted the interest of the National, and Sunday Schools; he is a man of good abilities, and strong constitution – He is very discreet, is under no pecuniary embarrassment, that I am aware of, nor is he, I think, likely to be so, since, in all pecuniary and other matters, as far as I have been able to discover, he is wary, and prudent – In principles, he is sound and orthodox – and would I think, under Providence, make an excellent Missionary.
^102
102

By the time Charlotte returned home from London, the die had been cast. NichoUs had sent off his application form and given the society notice that his ‘present engagement', as curate of Haworth, would be concluded at the end of May.
¹⁰³

Whether she knew of these developments or not, Charlotte obviously dreaded her reception in Haworth and wrote from London asking Ellen Nussey to meet her at Keighley and accompany her on the final stage of her journey home.
¹⁰⁴
No doubt eager enough to learn the state of affairs in Haworth, Ellen agreed to lend the moral support of her presence and came to stay for a fortnight. Together, the two friends awaited the critics' verdict on
Villette
. ‘The book, I think, will not be considered pretentious – nor is it of a character to excite hostility', Charlotte had averred as she completed the manuscript.
¹⁰⁵
This time she was to be proved right.

The reviews were almost unanimously favourable, though they seem to have been infected by the subdued tones of the book. The
Examiner
declared that
Villette
‘amply sustains the fame of the author of
Jane Eyre
and
Shirley'
, while the
Literary Gazette
, praising as ‘infinitely delightful' its ‘charm of freshness', went further:

This book would have made her famous, had she not been so already. It retrieves all the ground she lost in
Shirley
, and it will engage a wider circle of admirers than
Jane Eyre
, for it has all the best qualities of that remarkable book, untarnished, or but slightly so, by its defects.
¹⁰⁶

The criticisms, on the whole, were minor but justified. There were complaints about the transfer of interest from Paulina – a character whom, despite Charlotte's reservations, most critics seemed to think one of the most attractive and successful in the book – to Lucy; and some reviewers were disgruntled by the lack of plot, though even the most hostile admitted the veracity and excellence of her characters.
¹⁰⁷
The largest number of complaints, however, were about the character of Lucy Snowe. In an otherwise entirely favourable review, the critic of the
Spectator
argued that ‘this book, far more than
Jane Eyre
, sounds like a bitter complaint against the destiny of those women whom circumstances reduce to a necessity of working for their living by teaching'.
¹⁰⁸
The
Guardian
complained of the ‘somewhat cynical and bitter spirit' in which ‘Currer Bell' conceived her tales, excusing this on the grounds that ‘It may be the world has dealt hardly with her; it may be that in her writings we gather the honest and truthful impressions of a powerful but ill-used nature; that they are the result of affections thrown back upon themselves, and harshly denied their proper scope and objects.' Though Charlotte would never admit it, this was fair comment. Nevertheless, the reviewer spoilt his case by arguing from it that one should reject an acquaintance with Jane Eyre, Lucy Snowe and the creator of whom they were manifestations. Williams considered this an ‘unmanly insult', but Charlotte was simply contemptuous of the ‘poor Guardian Critic' and his ‘right to lisp his opinion that Currer Bell's female characters do not realize his notion of ladyhood'.
¹⁰⁹

The
Guardians
point that the book was steeped in bitterness was made most tellingly in the review that Charlotte took most to heart. It was not simply that the
Daily News
review made criticisms which hurt her deeply, but the fact that it was written by a woman she had considered to be her friend, Harriet Martineau. Just as G. H. Lewes had once presumed upon
his personal acquaintance with Charlotte in his review of
Shirley
, so Harriet Martineau allowed her intimate knowledge of the author to infuse her critique of
Villette
.

The book is almost intolerably painful … An atmosphere of pain hangs about the whole, forbidding that repose which we hold to be essential to the true presentment of any large portion of life and experience. In this pervading pain, the book reminds us of Balzac, and so it does in the prevalence of one tendency, or one idea, throughout the whole conception and action. All the female characters, in all their thoughts and lives, are full of one thing, or are regarded by the reader in the light of that one thought – love. It begins with the child of six years old, at the opening – a charming picture – and it closes with it at the last page; and, so dominant is this idea – so incessant is the writer's tendency to describe the need of being loved, that the heroine, who tells her own story, leaves the reader at last under the uncomfortable impression of her having either entertained a double love, or allowed one to supersede another without notification of the transition. It is not thus in real life. There are substantial, heartfelt interests for women of all ages, and under ordinary circumstances, quite apart from love:

Miss Martineau also criticized the way Charlotte had gone ‘out of her way to express a passionate hatred of Romanism' which she found a ‘striking peculiarity' in ‘one so large and liberal, so removed from ordinary social prejudices as we have been accustomed to think “Currer Bell'”.
¹¹⁰
She reiterated her disapproval in a personal letter: ‘I do deeply regret the reasons given to suppose your mind full of the subject of one passion – love – I think there is unconscionably too much of it (giving an untrue picture of life) &, speaking with the frankness you desire,
I do not like its kind – I anticipate a renewal of the sort of objection which you mentioned to me as inexplicable to you, the first evening we met; & this time, I think it will not be wholly unfounded
.'
¹¹¹
This brought an angry response from Charlotte: ‘I know what love is as I understand it – & if man or woman sh[oul]d feel ashamed of feeling such love – then is there nothing right, noble, faithful, truthful, unselfish on this earth as I comprehend rectitude, nobleness, fidelity, truth, & disinterestedness.'
¹¹²

It was perhaps fortunate that Charlotte did not learn Thackeray's opinion of
Villette
which, while coinciding with Miss Martineau's, at least had the merit of being expressed privately.

it amuses me to read the author's naive confession of being in love with 2 men at the same time; and her readiness to fall in love at any time. The poor little woman of genius! the fiery little eager brave tremulous homely-faced creature! I can read a great deal of her life as I fancy in her book, and see that rather than have fame, rather than any other earthly good or mayhap heavenly one she wants some Tomkins or another to love her and be in love with. But you see she is a little bit of a creature without a penny worth of good looks, thirty years old I should think, buried in the country, and eating up her own heart there, and no Tomkins will come. You girls with pretty faces and red boots (and what not) will get dozens of young fellows fluttering about you – whereas here is one a genius, a noble heart longing to mate itself and destined to wither away into old maidenhood with no chance to fulfil the burning desire.
¹¹³

One wonders what Thackeray would have made of the fact that Charlotte had received four proposals of marriage – though he was certainly right in that these had all been turned down because Charlotte felt no reciprocal passion.

Well might Charlotte cry again, ‘I can be on my guard against my enemies, but God deliver me from my friends!'
¹¹⁴
She had taken such offence at Miss Martineau's comments that there was now an irreparable rift between them. Having shown her friend loyalty when she was under attack for the Atkinson letters, Charlotte now felt doubly betrayed. ‘You express surprise that Miss Martineau should apply to you for news of me', she wrote to George Smith towards the end of March;

The fact is I have never written to her since a letter I received from her about eight weeks ago – just after she had read ‘Villette'. What is more – I do not know when I can bring myself to write again. The differences of feeling between Miss M. and myself are very strong and marked; very wide and irreconcilable … In short she has hurt me a good deal, and at present it appears very plain to me that she and I had better not try to be close friends; my wish indeed is that she should quietly forget me.
¹¹⁵

For a few more weeks Charlotte brooded on the quarrel, then gathered courage to write to Miss Martineau herself to tell her that the gulf between them was so wide and deep as to be unbridgeable.
¹¹⁶
The unlikely alliance between two ‘literary lions' was at an end.

Chapter Twenty-Five

TOMKINS TRIUMPHANT

Villette
had fully justified Charlotte's expectation that it would cause less controversy and be better received than its two predecessors. Writing to Ellen, who had returned to Brookroyd after a brief fortnight at Haworth, Charlotte owned that ‘the import of all the notices is such as to make my heart swell with thankfulness to Him who takes note both of suffering and work and motives – Papa is pleased too'.
¹

Patrick had taken a disproportionate amount of interest and pride in
Villette
as if to compensate for his unbending and vitriolic treatment of Mr Nicholls: perhaps he thought to divert his daughter's thoughts from marriage to her career. Not only had he closely followed the book's critical reception, but he had also intervened to secure a review in the provincial press. He wrote to George Smith requesting that a copy should be sent to the
Leeds Mercury
, which ‘enjoys a wide circulation, and considerable influence in the North of England', and also wrote to its editor, Edward Baines,
stating that ‘Already, several, able, and just reviews, have appeared in the London papers – but from what I know of your critical taste and talents, I have a strong desire to learn your opinion.' The
Leeds Mercury
no longer reviewed books in its columns, but a long and highly appreciative notice of
Villette
did appear in the
Leeds Intelligencer
, which cordially commended the book to the paper's readers.
²

Such was Patrick's pride that he even sent a copy of the single-volume edition of
Jane Eyre
to his brothers and sisters back in Ireland, inscribing it with a justifiably boastful note.

To Mr Hugh Brontë, Ballinasceaugh, near Rathfriland Ireland – This is the first work, published by my Daughter – under the fictitious name of Currer Bell – which is the usual way – at first, by Authors, but her real name, is everywhere known – She sold the copyright of this, and her other two works for fifteen hundred pounds – so that she has to pay for the books she gets, the same as others – Her other two books, are in six volumes, and would cost nearly four pounds – This was formerly in three volumes – In two years hence, when all shall be published in a cheaper form, if all be well, I may send them – You can let my brothers and sisters, read this – P. Brontë, A. B. Incumbent of Haworth near Keighley.

Jany.20th.1853—
³

Though Charlotte may have cringed at her father's actions, she took considerable pleasure in the fact that he was enjoying her success. She was less happy about the assiduity with which some of her so-called friends brought the bad notices to his attention. Mr Grant, for instance, who had been lampooned in
Shirley
and was probably taking a quiet revenge, was the first to bring the
Guardian
review, that ‘choice little morsel for foes'. ‘For my own part I can only record this significant fact', Charlotte told Williams who was responsible for sending her the reviews,

I am indebted to my publishers for all I know of the favourable notices of ‘Villette'. The hostile notices have been the care of my friends. When I revolve this consideration it makes me smile. My friends are very good – very. I thank some of them for the pains they take to enlighten me. My publishers on the other hand are extremely vexatious – they excite a tendency to chiding and expostulation – but to speak truth – I like them no worse for provoking as they are – I feel they mean kindly. But seriously – they must please to remember that
I would far rather receive unpleasant news through their medium than that of any other. The book is in one sense theirs as much as it is mine; and I know they are not glad to hear it cried down.
⁴