This blog explores social attitudes in Jane Austen's time, discusses her novels, reviews forgotten 18th century novels, and throws some occasional shade at the modern academy. The introductory post is here. My "six simple questions for academics" post is here. |
However, the Gothic plot of The Romance of the Forest (abandoned abbey, a chest with a skeleton in it, a bloody dagger, secret passages) bears no resemblance to the prosaic doings of the little village of Highbury. Susan Allen Ford points out that Donwell Abbey, set in the English countryside under a sun bright, without being oppressive, bears no resemblance to a half-ruined abbey in a Gothic novel. The heroine Adeline is a beautiful, virtuous, and accomplished girl who shows more resolution and courage when faced with danger than Harriet did in her encounter with the gypsies.
But I want to discuss a minor character in Radcliffe's novel named Annette... a very minor character...
The Romance is set in 17th-century France, and it opens with a not-at-all-admirable Frenchman, M. La Motte, escaping Paris and his creditors, along with his wife and two “faithful domestics.” Why La Motte’s wife Constance--or his servants Peter and Annette--should be loyal to La Motte is beyond my comprehension because thanks to him, the family is financially ruined and on the run from the law.
Along the way, the La Mottes unintentionally acquire our heroine Adeline under mysterious circumstances, after which they get stranded in the middle of a forest because La Motte insists on proceeding in the dark and they break a carriage wheel on a boulder. They find a large half-ruined deserted abbey. La Motte decides to hide out there indefinitely and use their manservant Peter to bring groceries and supplies from the nearest village. (The villagers fortunately stay away from the abbey because it’s haunted.) So there we are: because of her husband, Madame La Motte gives up the social whirl of Paris to camp out in a haunted abbey--and she still loves him and gets jealous when she mistakenly thinks he and Adeline have something going on the side.
It took me a while to even realize that the La Mottes have more than one servant on hand because while Peter plays an ongoing role in the plot and he has dialogue, the female maidservant, Annette, is only mentioned in passing when a fire is built or a meal appears and usually not even then.
At one point the group takes refuge in a hidden tunnel, because they heard someone enter the grounds of the abbey, calling for Monsieur La Motte. After a prolonged silence, a volunteer is needed to check to see if the coast is clear. “La Motte considered that if he was again seen, he should be effectually betrayed; [while his family] were all unknown to the officers... the person he sent should have courage... and wit enough to conduct it with caution. Peter, perhaps, had the first; but was certainly destitute of the last. Annette had neither.” Ouch.
Adeline, having both courage and wit, goes forth to spare La Motte from the consequences of his actions and discovers that the person halloo-ing around the Abbey is the La Motte’s soldier son, come looking for them.
While the varying hopes, fears, misconceptions and agitations of the main characters are all dwelt upon, we have no idea how Annette feels about leaving Paris and being the dogsbody for an extended glamping expedition with no weekends off. If anybody praises her Poisson avec Champignons Sauvages, we never hear of it; Radcliffe gives no details of the "repasts" which the family eats.
In academe today it has long been popular to examine how Ann Radcliffe subverts the patriarchy in her novels. As Wikipedia says: The Romance of the Forest "is the subject of much critical discussion, particularly in its treatment of femininity." But clearly, Radcliffe conjured Annette into existence for only one reason: without her, Madame La Motte and Adeline would have to do all the cooking, laundry and housework themselves, which would leave Madame less time for worrying about her husband and Adeline less time for lute-strumming, poetry-reciting, and exploring secret passages hidden behind a tapestry. Annette, then, is a sort of human appliance, a drudge who is given no dialogue. The callous way she is treated goes unremarked upon. When the La Mottes give up their bedchamber for some unexpected house guests, Adeline gives up her bedchamber for them, and “remove[d] to an inner chamber, where a small bed, usually occupied by Annette, was placed for her.” No mention of where Annette goes to sleep after being evicted from her bed, after a long day of looking after unexpected additional guests.
The last specific mention of Annette comes in Chapter 14, halfway through the book, after Adeline has escaped an attempted ravishing by a Marquis, seen the man she loves being wounded, arrested and hauled off to prison, and has been returned as a captive to the Abbey. Annette brings her some “refreshments.” Then the servant drops out of the story completely. Does she return to Paris with the family? Does she ever get paid?
Another servant, also named Annette, appears in Radcliffe's The Mysteries of Udolpho and is the subject of some feminist analysis, as in: “Servants and country people, in turn, construct a pedagogy for reading gothic texts that permit heroines to deconstruct metaphors of ghostly haunting embedded in their tales and resist patriarchal hegemony and interpretative authority over gothic texts.” But nobody asks why our Annette doesn't get to construct a pedagogy to resist patriarchal hegemony in The Romance of the Forest. Is this fair?
Seriously, Adeline's lute gets more attention from academics than Annette receives. Recently, a scholar offering a lengthy “close reading” of the novel describes La Motte fleeing Paris with “his wife and the manservant Peter” with no mention of Annette at all!
Someone should explain why Radcliffe sacrifices Annette to the gender and class restrictions of the times, or else explain how she's really subverting the gender and class restrictions of the times while appearing to reify them. Maybe if we explore the margins of the text, or consider the importance of what Radcliffe leaves unsaid, we'll understand that Annette is slapping down those platters of Venison a la Mirepoix with a bit of an attitude.
Finally, I note that Adeline’s love interest is actually a hero who does something heroic and at great cost to himself, as opposed to the kind of hero who does very little outside of believing every slur cast upon the heroine's virtue (Looking at you, Lord Mortimer). The virtuous end happily, the redeemable are redeemed, the irredeemable are dead and who knows what happens to Annette. Cue the happy peasant dance on the shores of a Swiss lake.
In addition to the story, the travelogue descriptions in Gothic novels must have been a diverting entertainment in an age when very few people could afford to travel.
While I usually give a synopsis of the plot in these posts, it’s not necessary in the case of The Romance of the Forest; Wikipedia has a synopsis for those interested. "Lit Crit Liz" also gives an entertaining summary of the plot in this YouTube video, along with a feminist analysis. She does not mention Annette. The reviewer for the Monthly Review praised Anne Radcliffe’s story-telling skills: “The principal personage of the romance, Adeline, is a highly-interesting character, whom the writer conducts through a series of alarming situations, and hair-breadth escapes, in which she has very skillfully contrived to hold the reader’s curiosity continually in suspense, and at the same time to keep his feelings in a state of perpetual agitation. Through the whole of the first two volumes, all is business, hazard, and alarm.” | Although we may laugh at these old Gothic novels, people are still drawn to the melodramatic morality tale, if Internet clickbait is anything to go by. |
Previous post: Harriet Smith's favorite novels, part one Next post: Special guest blog about Emma
In Northanger Abbey, Catherine Morland knew from her reading of gothic novels that "all the dirty work" in the fictional "abbeys and castles... was to be done by two pair of female hands at the utmost." In the 1799 novel Rosella, which is a satire on sentimental and gothic novels, the character Miss Beauclerc asks herself: “how, how in the names of the household gods, can the mysteries of the menage be conducted! Who washes, who dusts, who irons, who cleans, who mends, who cooks?” Much more about Rosella by Mary Charlton in future posts. Barlaskar, Reema. "The ‘Contagion’of ‘Ridiculous Superstition’: Representations of Lower-Class Voices in Ann Radcliffe's Novels." Gothic Studies 20.1-2 (2018): 184-198. Class, Monika, in Handbook of the British Novel in the Long Eighteenth Century, Berndt, Katrin and Johns, Alessa, eds. De Gruyter, 2022 |