New Woman Archives - Victorian Secrets

New edition of Weeds by Jerome K. Jerome

October 31, 2012 By Catherine Pope

We’re very pleased to announce a new critical edition of Weeds: A Story in Seven Chapters by Jerome K. Jerome.

First published anonymously in 1892, Weeds marked a significant departure from the humour that made Jerome K. Jerome famous. This disturbing story of sexual corruption shows marital fidelity as a perpetual struggle, with Dick Selwyn falling for the attractions of his wife’s young cousin, Jessie. The link between mental and physical corruption is sustained through a central metaphor of a weed-infested garden, which perishes through neglect.

With its radical ending, this story of the dark side of passion casts an important light on late-nineteenth-century sexual politics and gender ideology. Jerome engages with contemporary debates on degeneration and the emergence of the New Woman, offering a powerful evocation of fin-de-siècle society.

This edition, edited by Carolyn W. de la L. Oulton includes an introduction, explanatory footnotes, author biography, and a wealth of contextual material. Available in print and Kindle editions.

Find out more about Weeds: A Story in Seven Chapters by Jerome K. Jerome

Weeds by Jerome K. Jerome

October 31, 2012 By Catherine Pope

Cover of Weeds by Jerome K. Jerome Jerome K. Jerome is famous, of course, for writing one of the funniest books in the English language: Three Men in a Boat. What is less well known is that he desperately tried to reinvent himself as a serious author. Weeds: A Story in Seven Chapters was published anonymously in 1892, Jerome hoping that the novella would be judged on its own merits, rather than compared unfavourably with his comic tales of irascible terriers and tinned pineapple. Unfortunately for him, his publisher Arrowsmith was nervous about the story’s frank portrayal of adultery and it was never made available for general sale during the author’s lifetime.

While the Victorians’ moral squeamishness can be difficult to fathom for the modern reader, it’s not difficult to see why the edition was pulled. This disturbing narrative of sexual corruption shows marital fidelity as a perpetual struggle, with anti-hero Dick Selwyn falling for the attractions of his wife’s nubile young cousin. The link between his mental and physical corruption is sustained through a central metaphor of a weed-infested garden, which perishes through neglect (as predicted by the lugubrious narrator). Although there is the occasional comedic flash, this is a powerful evocation of fin-de-siecle society and its fears of degeneration.

Now, Jerome K. Jerome was no friend of the New Woman, but what really attracted me to Weeds was its radical ending (I shan’t spoil it), which embodies a clear challenge to the prevailing sexual double standard and casts an important light on late-Victorian gender ideology. I discovered when publishing Jerome’s biography that he was a complex and often contradictory man, and this story epitomises it more than any other.

Weeds: A Story in Seven Chapters is available in print and Kindle editions. It includes Mona Caird’s brilliant essay ‘Does Marriage Hinder a Woman’s Self-Development’.

The Beth Book by Sarah Grand

April 6, 2010 By Catherine Pope

Until a few weeks ago, I didn’t have a favourite novel: then I read The Beth Book. First published in 1897, it tells the story of Elizabeth Caldwell, a heroine whose experiences are closely modelled on Grand’s own life. The young Beth is a bright, inquisitive and loving child who is constrained by her difficult upbringing in a remote town on the west coast of Ireland and then in Yorkshire. Her mother has no idea how to deal with an intelligent daughter and desperately tries to instil in her ideas of feminine self-sacrifice. Like many girls of the period, she is denied an education and encouraged to make an advantageous marriage as soon as possible.

Imagining that marriage might afford her at least some freedom, she accepts the proposal of local doctor Daniel Maclure. He too treats her like a child, however, and taunts her with his infidelities. Beth is able to tolerate his many faults until she discovers that he is in charge of a Lock Hospital, an institution in which prostitutes with venereal disease were effectively imprisoned. He convinces her that the local women shun her because of her eccentricities, but it is actually because they believe her to be complicit in her husband’s dubious activities. The discovery that he is also a keen vivisector marks an irrevocable breach. Through establishing a room of her own and developing her literary voice she is able to become an independent woman and achieve happiness. She is aided by a supporting cast from Grand’s two previous novels, including Ideala and Angelica (one half of The Heavenly Twins).

Although polemical in places, Grand mainly criticises masculine “morality” through the ingenuous statements of the young Beth, who innocently questions the behaviour of the men in her life. Sally Mitchell has written that “Beth from 11-14 remains one of the most compelling and convincing descriptions of female adolescence yet created,” and I agree wholeheartedly. I’ve claimed in the past (controversially) that it’s superior to Jane Eyre, and I stand by that statement. It’s a long book (Madame Grand wasn’t known for her brevity), but it should be savoured as a work of true genius. It is clever, funny and moving in equal parts, and I felt bereft after finishing it.

~~Alas, there is no edition currently in print.~~ But now there is! I’ve just published a new edition of The Beth Book, edited by Jenny Bourne Taylor.