Still a woman of no importance?

I've finally finished reading Matthew Sturgis' Oscar: A Biography - no mean feat for someone who 'doesn't do' long books, fiction or otherwise (always excepting Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, which I've read three times). It's actually a very readable biography, with lots of fascinating detail and delicious anecdotes, meticulously researched and very balanced in its assessment of Oscar's personality. As with Aubrey Beardsley: A Biography, I feel that Sturgis has really managed to get under the skin of his subject and present him as a living, breathing human being; due recognition is given to his great qualities (kindheartedness, generosity, intelligence and openness) and also to his flaws (vanity, self-aggrandisement, hedonism and addictive tendencies). Unlike many other biographers, Sturgis doesn't skip over Oscar's early life and the influence of Irish culture and Irish politics instilled into him by his ardent, poetic mother 'Speranza' (aka Lady Jane Wilde); nor does it seek to condense his two long years in prison and three subsequent years of exile on the Continent into an epilogue following the climax of his well-known trial and conviction for (homo)sexual offences.

BUT – and it's a big but – I can't forgive him for his treatment (or rather lack of treatment) of Oscar's long-suffering wife, Constance. While friends and lovers (most notably, of course Bosie Douglas) are fleshed out and presented to us with all their fads and foibles, achievements and shortcomings, Constance simply – isn't there. I mean, she IS there of course, you can't write a biography of Oscar without even mentioning his wife and children, but there's so little said about her as a person in her own right that she comes across as a one-dimensional, devoted- but-dim domestic appendage to her glamorous, complex husband.

I know from my research for The Coward Does it with a Kiss that Constance was an intelligent, articulate, independently minded woman who combined motherhood with political activity, journalism, writing, spiritual exploration and a passion for women's rights. She was a member of the Women's Liberal Federation and often spoke at conferences; she was on the Women's Committee of the International Arbitration and Peace Association; she was an active supporter of Lady Margaret Sandhurst's campaign to become the first female County Councillor; she wrote articles on 'Rational Dress' for The Woman's World under her husband's editorship and for the Rational Dress Society's 'Gazette', of which she herself was editor; and she wrote several charming children's stories for publication in anthologies, as well as re-working traditional folk tales for her book There was once. Grandma's stories: Little Red Riding Hood, Puss in Boots, Cinderella, The three bears, Children in the wood – published, tellingly, under the name 'Mrs Oscar Wilde'.

But Sturgis passes over these achievements with barely a mention except to patronise. For example, stating that Oscar returned from his honeymoon determined "to set an example of the pervading influence of Art on Matrimony" he adds that “Constance was prepared to enter into this vision, certainly if it meant wearing nice frocks.” WEARING NICE FROCKS? It doesn't get much more belittling than that! All of Constance's tireless campaigning for comfortable and practical clothing that would enable women to go about their daily lives unhampered by whalebone corsets, bustles, trailing petticoats and multiple layers of skirt dismissed as a desire to 'wear nice frocks'!

With long weeks and months spent in sole charge of her household and children while Oscar was off living the high life with Bosie, Constance had to be tough. When Sturgis reports that she "left Worthing on 12th September to prepare the boys for school", he seems completely unaware that she was doing something unusual in taking upon herself the task traditionally the preserve of a father. She not only chose and inspected, but also accompanied her sons Cyril and Vyvyan to their respective boarding schools with their father not even there to give them a hug goodbye. Her sole management of their education was remarked upon at the time – but Sturgis doesn't appear to give it a second thought.

When it comes to the question of her husband's sexuality, Sturgis is too ready to believe Otho Lloyd Holland's insistence that his sister had been “entirely ignorant about Oscar's homosexual relations”. Despite admitting that “there are possible hints of anxiety on the subject” he concludes that “such doubts as she had do not seem to have resolved themselves into any real acknowledgement of the situation.” And yet Franny Moyle, in her biography Constance: The Tragic and Scandalous Life of Mrs. Oscar Wilde, quotes several instances from Constance's letters to her friend and mentor Lady Mount-Temple where she mentions the subject, admittedly in guarded language: “When I see you I will tell you, but it is too 'intime' to write ... it is best to know the truth ... I must pray for my boys, and when they are older, teach them to pray and struggle.” “Oscar is back in town, but not with me ... all my old misery over again, and another fiasco”. “I am unhappy because Oscar is not at all well, and had to fly off to yesterday morning to Calais to meet a friend there” - (an odd thing to do, surely if 'not at all well' referred to a physical illness? Constance repeatedly uses this euphemism in reference to her husband's homosexuality).

I'm also disturbed by the fact that Sturgis makes little mention of Constance and Oscar's two sons, Cyril and Vyvyan. In his epilogue he completely passes over their respective fates - the former killed during WWI, the latter surviving to write a first-hand account of his life as the Son of Oscar Wilde. With the exception of one brief footnote, he also completely ignores the existence of Vyvyan's son Merlin Holland, who is still living and is a noted biographer of his grandfather. Is there some sort of rift going on between Sturgis and Wilde's descendants? Of course the subject of the biography is Oscar himself, not his family, but even so, these omissions seem to me to be quite glaring.

Well having got my rant over, I must admit that Sturgis' book is still a fascinating read – give Oscar: A Biography a go yourselves, and see what you think!