This section of the novel certainly caused a variety of
emotions to arise from within me.
Initially I began Chapter 15 with the urge to sink into the sympathetic
imagination and become one in the book.
I soon found, however, that I was clearly not capable of such a
feat. The Victorian era defined roles of
women and men in such a “backward” way that with the turn of every page I
wanted to yelp out in anger. For
instance, in Chapter 18, “A woman did not contradict a man’s opinion when he
was being serious unless it were in carefully measured
terms.” This perspective brought up
feelings I did not know I even possessed.
Yes, I am certainly a feminist, but not in an overbearing sense, and I
did not imagine myself to feel as passionately about the subjects that this
book brought up. The reference in
Chapter 16 to the great Madame Bovary,
a book I sincerely loved even though it angered me, helped remind myself that
literature can affect you in negative ways but still have an immense impact on
strengthening your views.
As Brian and I discussed at our “tea party,” the
Victorian era was – weird. The roles
that men and women played in society were the central topic of our late night
discussion. From our conversation I
deduced the following question – was this era, and perspective, filled with
necessary evils? Were these roles set
for a reason? Or did we make them play
such a function in society?
As I read further into this selection, I realized that
Sarah was much more content than initially meets the eye. Although the doctor felt, “It was as if the
woman had become addicted to melancholia as one becomes addicted to opium,” she
saw herself with “a freedom they cannot understand.” (Chapter 19, 20) Charles, almost surprisingly, is the one to
question just about every aspect of his and her life. She added uncertainty,
and ambiguity to his static world -- “His future had always seemed to him of
vast potential; and now suddenly it was a fixed voyage to a known place.”
(Chapter 17) He appears to not
understand this, but almost embrace it.
Charles mixed feelings and abundance of apathy lead him to attempt to
use his own sympathetic imagination to see her perspective. She shuts him out however, when stating, “you are not a woman,” and therefore he cannot
understand. Sarah contains a mysterious
bit of self confidence, and when presented with a situation Charles does not
understand she simply responds, “Where are your pretensions now, those eyes and
gently curving lips seemed to say; where is your birth, your science, your
etiquette, your social order?” (ch21)
The Doctor plays a role on the opposite end of the
spectrum, signifying both science and reasoning. The pure nature of the discussion he and
Charles have in chapter 27 is given away with the description Fowles gives us at the beginning, “He sat before him across
the fire; then with a small smile and a look at Charles over his glasses, he
laid his hand, as if swearing on a Bible, on The Origin of Species.” (ch
27) The
“Man, man, are
we not both believers in science? Do we
not both hold that truth is the one great principle?...Know
thyself, Smithson, know thyself!” (ch27)
Charles is still questioning which is what keeps me reading this
book. Where is he going? What will he decide? Does he know anything? Or nothing? My sympathetic imagination may not be
working, but my imagination certainly is.