...

There are so many things I could write about…

Fowles', or the narrator's, obvious dislike of the Victorian convention is starting to ware on me. Where an author may easily direct the reader's opinions in one direction coyly and naturally, the dislike I have for the Victorian mindset is becoming increasingly noted as coerced and somewhat contrived. This negative representation is definitely present in the earlier reading assignment, but I feel that its constant flogging is irritating. I think we can naturally understand the insufferable era through the two main characters, without obvious red flags being waved every time we have some character introspection.

Charles and Sarah are set above the common Victorian. Charles, for one, is a man of science, and is what today would be called an agnostic. Charles' nearly exclusive adherence to Darwin's Of Origin of Species allows himself to feel as "one of the exalted superiority," with an "intellectual distance above the rest of [his] fellow creatures. (132)" Though these are Charles' thoughts merely relayed to us by the narrator, I feel it is intended to make us believe that indeed, Charles is way above the ignorant, insipid Victorian. The narrator admits that Charles "himself belonged undoubtedly to the fittest. (134)" The narrator clearly shares the same beliefs as Charles as well, declaring that "Genesis is a great lie;" he reconciles the obtuseness of the Victorians by also noting "it is also a great poem; and a six-thousand-year-old womb is much warmer than one that stretches for two thousand million. (130,131)" Theology is a far more comforting route, and in a way the narrator casually attempts to rationalize this dogma. It is simply easier to believe the way they did. It doesn't, however, wholly excuse the hypocrisy the narrator is so quick and vividly to point out. The narrator also adds to Charles' distinction by describing him from an evolutionary stand-point, though it is a sort of negative characteristic as far as individuality goes. The fact that the idea propose was theorized by Darwin adds even more authoritative weight to it from the author's end. Biologically, Charles is three separate individuals, and this can be described as "cryptic coloration." This "survival by learning to blend with one's surroundings with the unquestioned assumptions of one's age or social class" is what allows Charles to seamlessly converse with Ernestina, Sam, and Sarah, and in the end, maintain a good standing within the insufferable Victorian society (118,119.)" Sarah, too, like Charles, has an intelligence and sincere quality described by the narrator as ahead of her time. However, Sarah's pleading eyes begged for Charles to "come clean. (119.)" Sarah, our oppressed heroine, explains why she chose Charles to impart her secrets to, which as a writing choice, again puts Charles above the average English Joe of the mid 1800s. He is --and note the word Sarah uses here-- educated.

The insightful Sarah explains that she is plagued by the world, for it tells her that the exemplary people in her life are "kind, pious, Christian people. (116)" She frets, however, noting that "they seem crueler than the cruelest heathens, stupider than the stupidest animals. (116)" This is one of the most flagrant attacks on the Victorian era. He endows Sarah with the understanding that life cannot be "without understanding or compassion," which this era seems to be nearly devoid of (116).

Coming from a more scientific perspective, Charles tends to view things more objectively, and by doing so has detached himself from the deities that govern the Victorian era. The God that Mrs. Poultney tries to appease is certainly disagreeable in Fowles point of view. However, Fowles makes it clear that simply removing this hypocritical God factor from the societal rules and conventions will not solve the injustices and inequalities rampant in this era. An otherwise objective situation ("woman with unfortunate past,") can become subjective "by empathy, instantaneously shared rather than observed. (115)" However, Charles handled Sarah more often than not with a respectable, objective distance. In Chapter 17, Charles was overcome by a sense of guilt in his handling his encounter with Sarah. "It was as if he had shown a callous lack of sympathy, when he was sure he had done his best. (103)" I'm sure Mrs. Poultney felt that she too was doing her best in divvying out money to the church and taking in Sarah, but those valiant and forced attempts are worthless. So Sarah seems to be the only character that can naturally feel sympathy and empathy towards her fellow men and women. As Sarah shares her story, Charles replies "I'm not sure that I can condone your feelings. But I understand them perfectly. (139)" Now is this what we would call sympathetic imagination? Whatever the case, this understanding simply cannot do. And Charles notices Sarah's ability to go beyond that superficial understanding—"She made him aware of a deprivation. (107)"

Could that deprivation be a spiritual one? It is no question that Sarah believed in some form of a God. While "Mrs. Poultney believed in a God that had never existed," Sarah "knew a God that did. (51)" However, Sarah was baffled by the sort of God that would chose her, or any other creature, to suffer so greatly. And while this would make some cast off the restraints of theology, it seems Sarah has embraced some form of one. "We make our destinies by our choice of Gods. (123)" And Sarah has indeed embraced a God of her own understanding. Later, "Charles felt in all ways excommunicated," and this allowed him to relate to Sarah even more (192). However, I believe that though their realities converge, the path taken was very different. Charles has arrived in his spot by sheer disbelief and blind abandonment, while Sarah has chosen knowingly to come to her destination. I see that a simple resolution to the situation would be a happy median between the two ideologies of Sarah and Charles. They need to embrace that triumphed "free will," their intelligence, and at the same time holding on to a coveted spirituality.