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Sylvia's Lovers by Elizabeth Gaskell 3: chapters 30 - 45 (end) (hosted by Claudia)
Did you like Mrs Kinraid? Don't hesitate to comment!We will read Chapter 41 on Thursday 5 June!
The question of whether Kinraid is a cardboard hero or a cat with nine lives is very interesting. As we near the end of the novel I imagine all our main characters will be presented to us. It will be our task to assign them their final position in the novel and in our minds. So here is my take on Charley Kinraid, the Captain.I like his portrayal. I think Gaskell has presented us a person of action from the beginning of the novel. We first see him as a very successful whaler, a person who has the respect of his shipmates, and a man who was ready to defend himself and his fellow mates - to the death if necessary..
He is affable, humourous, and hides little of his personality. He may have an eye for the ladies, but I found his attachment and love for Sylvia to be honest and true. A bit of a flirt, but more a man of his word and bound. His proposal to Sylvia was sincere and the half coin was more than a simple lover’s token. His other half was indeed Sylvia.
He believed that Philip would tell Sylvia of his fate. When he returned to Sylvia he fully intended to marry her. The shock of Sylvia’s marriage to Philip, and the added reality that Sylvia was not only married, but also a mother, severed his attachment and commitment to Sylvia.
Was his subsequent marriage one of haste, or done on ‘the rebound?’ I don’t think it matters. Charley has obviously told his wife of Philip’s heroism, and his wife comes to thank Philip. That Mrs. Kinraid does not know the history of her husband and Sylvia is immaterial.
It is evident that Captain Kinraid and his wife love one another. It is obvious that Charley’is grateful for Philip’s actions. Kinraid has moved on in his life and made the best of it after learning that the person who intended to marry is now married.
Peter wrote: "The question of whether Kinraid is a cardboard hero or a cat with nine lives is very interesting. ..."It is true that we are seeing the main protagonists (the narrative voice said sometimes"actors") of this story in full light. None of them is quite the same after six years of dramatic events. We too may have gradually made up our minds in these 8 weeks or so!
I agree with your opinion on Kinraid, Peter!
I borrowed Sara's cat with nine lives!
It did not surprise me that Kinraid married soon after finding that Sylvia was already married. Sailors only have a short leave in town before they have to go to sea again so they cannot think of a long courtship. Kinraid is an attractive, successful, interesting man who would appeal to the ladies. His wife is pretty, educated, and has some money. Kinraid is moving up in society as well as being an officer in the Royal Navy.
Did anyone else wonder how they met each other? That story would have been interesting. And she brought up the possibility that Philip has changed his name so now there is that to consider. They’d never know what name to look for though. Like Peter, I see Gaskell wrapping up our main characters threads and providing some closure.
I don’t think we should count Philip among the dead just yet.
Lori wrote: "Did anyone else wonder how they met each other? That story would have been interesting. And she brought up the possibility that Philip has changed his name so now there is that to consider. They’..."
Good point Lori! According to Molly, Charley met his wife in or around Plymouth - a military port as well. Perhaps (I suppose) he was invited to dinner by some fellow officer in presence of Miss Jackson.
Yes Connie, it is exactly what I called urgency. When Navy sailors are on furlough, they are likely to be called back anytime, even more so in wartime. There is no time for tergiversations, therefore a young man has to go straight to the point - no wonder Kinraid married so soon. Plus, as Peter said, Kinraid saw Sylvia married and with a child and moved on.
We also noticed that Mrs Kinraid is travelling and visiting Charley's relatives apparently on her own and now coming to Sylvia's to thank Philip on behalf of her husband, but speaking autonomously. Naval officer's and sailors' wives are more autonomous than others, because they have to run their households autonomously and make decisions in absence of their husband.
It was through no fault of Charley that he did not remain with and marry Sylvia. He was true to her during his absence and returned faithfully. I was glad to know he had married someone with grace and goodness besides money and that he seems to have a happy marriage. He deserves this.I do not see him as a cardboard character at all. I have a very clear vision of who he is and he has been consistent throughout the course of the novel. He is adventurous and brave and loyal, and we see those aspects of his character from the beginning when he is injured in defense of his fellow shipmate.
I find his quick marriage understandable. He cannot ever have Sylvia now and he is not the kind to moan or dwell on what he cannot have. He is young and young men need to marry and have children in this society, it is expected and desired. It looks like he made a very suitable choice and he was wise enough to keep his involvement with Sylvia to himself and not burden his wife with it.
I failed completely to mention Phillip. This snippet of information regarding Phillip must begin to work on Sylvia's mind and heart. He has saved a man who was his absolute nemesis, which shows the goodness of his heart, and the fact that he is in danger, fighting abroad, should touch on whatever feelings she has for him. He was good to her in many ways and from this distance, she will see more of his positive qualities than his negative. Meeting the wife will have put Charley out of her thoughts in any romantic way that might have lingered.
Thank you Sara for this concise review of the two "lovers"!
A brief review ahead of the final eventsWhat I particularly like about this novel is how the characters evolve beyond the initial impressions we form of them, and how we too are led to evolve.
The first volume introduces the protagonists in a context and dynamics that changes in the second volume when History immediately affected their lives. Sylvia experienced Darley's death as an impressionable bystander. She then viscerally experiences Charley's mysterious disappearance, in a clandestine way because she has no right to speak out aloud about it since the engagement was a secret.
Now, as the wife of Philip Hepburn, who disappeared without a trace, she was mocked behind her back by a part of public opinion, embodied by Molly, the other part is keeping silent. However, she finds the human and spiritual resources within herself and around herself, helped by the Fosters and the Roses (such as staying on with Hester and Alice in the house behind the shop, learning to read and studying the Bible) to assert herself and widen her perspective beyond her former (sometimes set) ideas.
Thanks to an unexpected visit from Mrs Kinraid who expressed her and her husband's gratefulness, Sylvia is privately rehabilitated as the wife of a hero. Philip, if he reappears, should also be celebrated as someone who exposed himself to danger and saved someone else's life, including by Sylvia and notwithstanding what happened before between them. I think she is gradually evolving in this way.
Chapter 41 – The Bedesman of St SepulchrePhilip after a slow recovery is now ordered home to England and repatriated among all the sailors injured in the war and unfit for service. He is very depressed as he is aware that he has no prospect of regaining his wife’s love. He is disfigured and has suffered many injuries. He has been considered an interesting surgical case, and well taken care of, which helped him recover.
When his ship arrives to Portsmouth, many sailors are emotional and happy to meet with their loved ones. Philip sit still and numb and indifferent to the cries of welcome and indifferent to his own fate. The noise of the crowd on the quays and of the ship passengers pierces his ears.
Philip has been on a friendly basis with a comrade from Potterne, a village near the “high stretches of Salisbury Plains”, and who has a wife and a daughter the same age as Bella. Both have walked 60 miles to welcome him now. Jem, as he is called, is very ill from consumption and his days are probably numbered. His wife does not notice the “deadly change” but is overjoyed and covers him with kisses. Philip envies Jem who is surrounded by the love of his wife and daughter, a family so like his own.
He overhears a naval officer and his wife watching the injured and sick soldiers and sailors walking slowly. Philip is absorbed in his thoughts but hears a well-known voice with “Newcastle inflections” and at once identifies Captain Kinraid. The latter forces a “crown piece” into Philip’s hand. “Here, my fine fellow, take this.” Philip tries in vain to give it back to the officer, but Kinraid and his wife are soon lost in the crowd. Finally, he gives the coin to his comrade and his wife, who are full of sincere thanks. Philip thinks himself not worthy of this gratefulness, he just wanted to get rid of the coin that burned his fingers.
In October 1799, Philip is walking northwards. He is generally welcomed warmly and with reverence and respect, as all returned soldiers are considered as heroes, by cottagers and innkeepers. The latter know that his, or any other soldier’s presence, attracts more customers than usual.
Philip makes slow progress. He is weak and longs for rest. He is now near “a stately city”, with “a great old cathedral”. Someone advises him to go to the Hospital of St Sepulchre, an almshouse of old traditions, where the “Wayfarer’s dole” (a piece of bread and a cup of beer) is given liberally to all comers. There he feels that it is a place for him who is weary and burdened, a place of great serenity.
He is welcomed by the warden, who happens to have a son presently serving as an officer in the Marines. Philip was serving him before the explosion on the Theseus, and Lieutenant Pennington, the warden’s son, gave him the long cloak he is wrapped in. The warden invites Philip to his home and to eat a bit of meat. He is nicely welcomed by his wife and daughters who ask him many questions.
They ask him where he is now intended to go, but Philip wonders “in his own mind where he was going”. The warden suggests he could stay here as a bedesman in a now vacant cottage – his former occupant has died – and be lodged and provided for, and attend morning prayers and services. Philip almost apologises for receiving this generous proposition without any enthusiasm. He explains how weary he is, and despaired, as he mentions that he “once had a wife and a child up in the North”. When asked by one of the daughters, Philip’s eyes are “full of dumb woe.”
The theme of return and survivalKinraid was successfully rescued by Philip on the battlefield of Acre in May 1799 and is now standing upright with his wife in a perfect contrast to the returning sailors who are now unfit for service and generally in very bad condition.
Philip is returning, disfigured and infirm, with many other injured and sick sailors to Portsmouth. We are in September 1799.
He leaves Portsmouth in October 1799 and is walking northwards.
Another layer appears here as the palimpsest I mentioned in chapter 38: the theme of Ulysses' return, the Homeric nostos, after a very long voyage and many adventures and pitfalls ( The Odyssey stretches over ten years, but Odysseus/Ulysses was fighting in the Trojan war ten years before).
Kinraid, who happened to be there as Philip disembarks, has obviously not recognised the disfigured soldier, whose face is partly wrapped in bandages, even if the words Philip overheard (same uniform, for his sake), might mean Kinraid and his wife were just thinking of Philip, as the officer spotted Marines in the crowd of returning sick soldiers and sailors.
His faded red coat made his membership in the Marine corps recognisable - particularly when he was but a few inches from Charley. Yet he did not want to come out, to be seen by Kinraid as Philip Hepburn - and perhaps to be thanked for what he did and would do again in the same situation. He even does not want to ever see him again.
Was that humility, or shame for what he first did to Sylvia and Charley?
Ulysses, in The Odyssey, was transformed by goddess Athena into an old beggar and could not be recognised. "She made his blond hair fall, withered his skin, dulled his once beautiful eyes; she gave him a stick and a bag with holes in it. " (Book 13). Thus Ulysses could avenge himself against suitors who courted his wife in his absence and lived off Penelope's food and wine supplies.
But Philip, unlike Ulysses, is irreversibly transformed, now like a living dead, since he was so seriously burnt on the Theseus.
Just as when he suddenly left Sylvia and his baby daughter in Monkshaven more than one year ago, Philip does not know where to go. He is just walking north and is unable to make any real decision.
He leaves everything up to chance and the grace of God.
Philip has gone through Hell and is back among the living but, since he recovered enough to be sent home from the Portsmouth sanitary premises after his voyage, does not want to indulge among people.
Philip, now a poor disfigured beggar - what a hard lesson of humility and fragility - is knocking at the door of the Hospital of St Sepulchre near Winchester [29,6 mi from Portsmouth]. It seems the perfect place for him who is so depressed, a place on the edge of the world where he could find some rest. He is a man without a home, without a stone to rest his head. The place looks "as if care and want, and even sorrows, were locked out and excluded..." It has a feel of eternity beyond the grave. We can see how much the third volume of Sylvia's Lovers has become more spiritually influenced.
The mere fact that Philip was walking feels like the journey of a pilgrim on the path to redemption.
He stopped at an old Hospital and Almshouse and is offered a monk's life: praying, wearing a gown at service. becoming his daily bread/food, being accommodated in a little cottage very much like a Carthusian cell - the Carthusian monks have been established in the French Prealps since 1084 by St. Bruno. Theirs is a small community based on shared solitude and humility. Each one has his own small dwelling and their motto is "Stat Crux, dum volvitur orbis". Philip's monk's life, less severe than a Carthusian life, is still very spiritual and perhaps also an unsaid connection to Monks-Haven?
The name chosen by Elizabeth Gaskell for this hospital is very telling and echoes a tomb, perhaps even the Holy Sepulchre of Jerusalem - Jesus' empty tomb, the very Holy Sepulchre Napoleon wanted to take from the Ottomans. This also echoes the poem by Wordsworth "The Salisbury Plains", (1793), hinted at in the context of Jem with "his graveyard cough", and his wife and daughter who walked the way from Poterne, particularly the verse "Have I no house in prospect, but the tomb."
Ironically - if I may say so - Philip is offered to stay at the almshouse of St. Sepulchre in one of the little cottages, recently vacated by a pensioned soldier who died two weeks earlier, which again suggests Philip's proximity to death. He is installed there, "almost in spite of himself" just as he registered in the Marines in spite of himself. Now it clearly hints to his lack of vital energy.
Hospital of St Cross and Almshouse of Noble PovertyBack from London where she had gathered some material for The Specksioneer, Elizabeth Gaskell was sick with bronchitis while staying with a friend in early 1860 in Winchester near the Cathedral. She was very much impressed with the hymns and prayers she was faintly hearing from her sick bed at regular times and while slowly recovering, she enjoyed walking in the serene Cathedral Close - also a source of inspiration for some scenes in A Dark Night's Work (1863) A Dark Night's Work and Other Stories.
Mrs Gaskell visited the Hospital of St Cross, about a mile away from town and was inspired by this very special and unique place, the oldest almshouse of England, and used it as a background for the present chapters.
From the Hospital of St Cross' website, hospitalofstcross.co.uk:
"Legend has it that the Hospital’s foundation originated in a walk that Henry of Blois, a grandson of William the Conqueror, took in the Itchen Meadows. He was supposedly stopped by a young peasant girl who begged Henry to help her people, who were starving because of the civil war. The parallel with the Virgin Mary was not lost on Henry, who was so moved by the girl’s plight that when, a little further along the river, he discovered the ruins of a religious house, he resolved to use the site to establish a new community to help the poor. How much of this is fact is unclear, but we do know that Henry of Blois was young, wealthy and powerful: a monk, knight and politician in one. Appointed Bishop of Winchester in 1129 at the age of 28, he founded the Hospital of St Cross between 1132 and 1136, creating what is said to be England’s oldest charitable institution.
The Hospital was founded to support thirteen poor men, so frail that they were unable to work, and to feed one hundred men at the gates each day. The thirteen men became the Brothers of St Cross. Then, as now, they were not monks. St Cross is not a monastery but a secular foundation. Medieval St Cross was endowed with land, mills and farms, providing food and drink for a large number of people. However the water was unfit for drinking so copious amounts of ale and beer were needed.
In the fifteenth century, Cardinal Beaufort created the Order of Noble Poverty, adding the Almshouse to the existing Hospital buildings and giving St Cross the look that it has today. His image appears on the Beaufort Tower.
The Hospital has places for twenty five Brothers in total, each of whom is allocated his own self-contained flat. The flats date back to the fifteenth century and are all on the ground or first floor. Typically, they comprise a sitting room, bedroom, kitchen, shower or wet-room and separate lavatory. The flats are unfurnished and each Brother usually provides his own furniture. In cases of extreme hardship the Hospital can sometimes help with the provision of some items."
The Wayfarer's Dole...
...still exists. This service is an old religious tradition which states that a small cup of beer and a small slice of bread would be given to anyone who knocked on the door of the Porter’s Lodge and requested the ‘Dole.’
https://ruralhistoria.com/2023/06/15/...
Now we know where is Philip!Chapter 42 coming up on 6 June!
In this chapter we see Philip on his way home, but what awaits him if and when he arrives back home? I certainly agree that there are connections to Homer’s ‘Ulysses’. I’d like to add another suggestion, and that is the Robert Frost poem ‘Death of the Hired Hand’. In this poem there are two lines that reflect on Philip’s situation. The lines are ‘Home is the place where, when you have to go there/They have to take you in’. Philip is on his way home, but what awaits him? Philip is with Jem when he witnesses Jem’s wife and his child lovingly greet him. We are told that Jem has a ‘churchyard cough’ but it matters not to his family. He is home and is loved by his wife and child. Such may not not be the case for Philip.
Philip may well be feted with beer and bread, and he is momentarily ‘reverenced’ by rustic cottagers, but such interactions are fleeting. By the end of the chapter Philip has a been given the opportunity to be a bedesman, but he is still not home. Since Gaskell introduced Jem’s wife and child earlier in this chapter it feels as if the Jem episode is foreshadowing. Philip is not home yet. When he does return home, what will happen? Will he be welcomed, and if so, by who?
Gaskell is leading the reader into a very high stakes ending.
Now I’m wondering if Sylvia and Philip will ever reunite? Was this Gaskell’s plan all along or not? She has, like Peter said, been leading us to an ending that we are probably not expecting. I’m really uncertain what will happen now. I think Sylvia is very close to forgiveness and that Philip is close to redemption for what he did. Oh, my, the suspense!
You asked the right questions, Peter! If Philip returns home, will they take him in? (Thanks for the lines by Robert Frost)Indeed, the Jem episode seems to be foreshadowing...
Lori wrote: "Now I’m wondering if Sylvia and Philip will ever reunite? Was this Gaskell’s plan all along or not? She has, like Peter said, been leading us to an ending that we are probably not expecting. I’m re..."I suppose Elizabeth Gaskell's plan was definitely clear for her. She wrote to her editor George Smith on 23 December 1859 that The Specksioneer was "not far on, but very clear in [her] head, and what I want to write more than anything." Even if she had some more erratic times, no doubt she knew where she was going to plot-wise.
Chapter 42 – A Fable at FaultPhilip has been staying for a few months in the Hospital of St Sepulchre, no longer fit for service. He is modestly but reasonably cared for and provided with board and lodging, invited to attend prayers and religious services and pray for the salvation of the soul of Sir Simon Bray.
He at first appreciates to keep secluded and aloof from strangers, as he is aware of their reactions at his disfigured face, and he gets on well with the other “Brothers”.
Still, he becomes “restless and uneasy” and constantly reviews his own life. He remembers Sylvia’s last “look of contempt and anger” and “almost brought himself (…)to believe that he was indeed the wretch she had considered him to be”. He is now suddenly anxious about her and their child.
One evening, he reads the Legend of Guy of Warwick who came back home after seven year absence as a begging hermit his wife did not recognise. He finally was reunited with her when he was dying, “his head lying on her bossom”. Philip thinks that he could see Sylvia “himself unknown, unseen” and “gaze upon her and her child” and some day, when he would lie dying, “send for her” and “in soft words of mutual forgiveness breathe his life away in her arms”.
He feels “called” to go to Monkshaven, but catching the reflection of his own face, he laughs “scornfully at the sight.”
The warden of the almshouse is indignant when Philip informs him that he is giving up his bedesmanship, and going “to the people he once knew”.
“Philip turned his back upon St Sepulchre’s with his sore heart partly healed by his four months’ residence there.”
He leaves in February and walks mostly because he “shrank from the first look of every stranger upon his disfigured face.”
Somewhere between York and Monkshaven, he incidentally returns to the country-inn where he had dined and slept when he was recruited. He crossed the moors where he had lost his way. This time he knew where to go. Just as he did that day, he walks to the point of exhaustion.
Arriving to Monkshaven, he “creeps down” the “long, steep lane” from the hill-top to the High Street, “a weary, woeful man”.
A circus is entering Monkshaven and a crowd is gathering, watching a “gold and scarlet chariot”. Philip sees Sylvia with little Bella, “laughing for pleasure”. Philip feels bitter. He feels that “wife and child were doing well without him”.
The sun has set, the night’s chills are deepening Philip’s distress while Sylvia and her daughter go to “a warm hearth”. He has now to look for “some poor cheap lodging” and endure in solitude.
CommentsPhilip’s reflection in the mirror reminds us of the day when he left, after he was so shattered by Kinraid’s visit and Sylvia’s words. He saw himself in the mirror in the shop and compared himself to Kinraid, declared a hero by public opinion. Back then he was deeply ashamed of himself and feared that the whole community would hear about it and point their fingers at him. Now he sees how disfigured he is and how vain it is to imagine that Sylvia would love him. His scorn to himself embodies the scorn of the community, as he supposed everyone despised him..
Philip is now a wanderer, a suffering man who recalls in his own way the suffering servant in the Book of Isaiah (chapter 53), a beaten and martyred man who has no longer a human face. He remains unknown and unseen while he is watching his loved ones from afar, hungrily and desperately. He dares not go and greet them, either out of fear or shame, so disfigured is he that he carries the weight of his guilt.
The theme of return, an everlastingly recurring theme from the beginning of the novel. Sailors returned from the whaling campaign in the opening chapters, the passengers of a smack from London were rescued near Monkshaven, with Kinraid on board, returning to visit and possibly marry Sylvia. Injured and sick sailors and soldiers have just been returned from Middle East to Portsmouth.
Philip goes exactly the same way back he went two years ago. He even stayed in the same inn and crossed the same moors, heard newborn lambs bleating. An irrational terror is taking possession of him. Is Sylvia still alive? "Why he had chosen that path he could not tell - it was as if he were led, and had no free will of his own." There is a supernatural, even spiritual feel about Philip's attitude. It is also noticeable that he left the Hospital of St Sepulchre in February 1800 and arrived at Monkshaven at the beginning of April - which corresponds roughly to the Lent season, forty days before Easter. Easter is the only feast day never mentioned in the novel, while all other significant milestones are: Michaelmas, Martinmas, Christmas...
As often in this novel, he returned in the evening ("yellower gleams, evening shadows").
The red colour: “a gold-and-scarlet chariot drawn by six piebald horses”, Sylvia’s “red lips apart and white teeth”. The scarlet colour enhanced with gold reminds of the many sunsets which were the background of many decisive events in this novel. The golden colour evokes the golden hues of the walls of Jerusalem where Philip was not. In Alice's mind, the earthly Jerusalem is assimilated to the heavenly Jerusalem. The scarlet colour was everywhere, on the battlefield of Acre and even in the faded hues of red jackets of disabled and wounded Marines. It is also the colour of fire, the real fire which destroyed the Mariner's Arms and killed and injured sailors and soldiers on the Theseus, the fire of Philip's obsession, the fire of his mad love that made him keep silent, the burning aching fire of his conscience, now the purifying fire of his acute suffering and redemption.
The circus: arriving in Monkshaven, it has attracted a crowd of onlookers. This crowd contrasts with those previously described: the wailing, shouting crowd in Chapter 3, when returning sailors were kidnapped in front of their loved ones; the crowd of people tricked out of their homes by a false alarm; and the subsequent crowd of rioters in that same Chapter 23. This crowd, however, consists of children and parents who are all enthusiastic about the entertainment.
Philip is returning to the town by and in the same way that he left it, down the lane and the stairs. The arriving circus seems to enhance his own despair and loneliness. He does not pay much attention to the red and golden chariot drawn by six piebald horses, with kings, queens, heroes and heroines all wearing multicoloured costumes, acclaimed but feeling cold, tired "in the heroic pomp of classic clothing". Why is the narrative voice mentioning heroes and heroines feeling cold in their classic clothing, envied by all children who run alongside the chariot and in a noisy cacophony of loud and discordant tunes? This reminded me of the arrival of another heterogeneous file of the sick, wounded and disabled 'unsung heroes' in Portsmouth.
Philip instead sees only Sylvia and Bella, and also William Coulson who do not pay any attention to him, but seem to be captivated by the circus and enjoying themselves. He sees how life has been going on while he was spending those two years in "gloomy sorrows" and "wild scenes".
This is a strong contrast between the “warm hearth” and “the cold dark street”, contrasts between the many colours, full of life and Philip’s blackened face, who stays in the shadows, “unknown and unseen”, just like Ulysses when he is, unrecognised, so near Penelope, or Guy of Warwick, a poor beggar unrecognised by his wife.
The legend of Guy of Warwick, a mise-en-abyme ? Philip’s identification with a medieval knight is made explicit. An earl returning from the Crusades as a begging hermit, to be recognised by his wife only on his deathbed is certainly a mise en abyme (view spoiler)
The legend was not included in The Seven Champions of Wisdom but was very popular as a pamphlet.
From our Warwickshire.org: "Told and re-told, more myth than history, it contains a wealth of different motifs: the mythic monsters of English folklore: the questing adventure, the dreams and miraculous discoveries, the battles and single combat of chivalric romance and the exile and return narrative, the long separation, the disguise and discovery, common to so many myths and stories including The Odyssey."
https://www.ourwarwickshire.org.uk/co...
We will read chapter 43 on Sunday 8 June, so that there is plenty of time to comment!
Unless your heart is made of steel, you will find it difficult not to feel pity for Phillip and the scourging and punishment he has taken for his sin. His journey seems a Biblical style pilgrimage for redemption. He has arrived at home, but is he worthy to take up his life again? He obviously feels he is not. And, as so often I have found in this novel, there is the outward visage that deceives the onlooker--he sees Sylvia as happy and having forgotten, but she is far from that. Her heart is sore and her truly happy moments are few and probably all associated with the innocent presence of her child.The time as a bedesman has given him a time to reflect and gain a kind of peace that makes him strong enough to move forward. It doesn't sound like much, but it is a true benefaction and he was fortunate to have had it offered as it was. Many needed this kind of help, and the beds were few and coveted. (I enjoyed learning a great deal about this system in The Warden by Anthony Trollope).
The symbolism and accumulating themes in this story are profound and so well-constructed. As you have mentioned, Claudia, I can feel this taking on a very spiritual leaning. Your reference to Isaiah is perfect.
Sara wrote: "Unless your heart is made of steel, you will find it difficult not to feel pity for Phillip and the scourging and punishment he has taken for his sin. His journey seems a Biblical style pilgrimage ..."Yes, I felt an immense pity for Philip even on my third reading!
Great point on "the outward visage that deceives the onlooker", Sara! The kings and queens, heroes and heroines on the chariot, disguised and pompous, envied by the children, are, in reality, shivering and tired. This is an illustration of deceptive impressions recurring in this novel.
I read about The Warden in the context of the Hospital of the Holy Cross and would like to read it!
I've been out of town for a week, without internet connection. I jut read through all the posts and am truly taken with everyone's thoughts and impressions.I'm happy to say that I've kept up with the reading schedule.
These last few chapters have made me see Philip in another light. He, too, was young and perhaps without the wisdom to have seen the harm he did to the lives of others with his withholding of the truth. He's now had more life experiences (of the worst & hardest sort).
I love the discussion of Philip being redeemed. He's certainly remorseful and broken.
He's a man who made a mistake and it seems to have ruined his life in everything important.
As for the legend he read, I do hope that his future isn't the same. I'm not sure what I want for either him or Sylvia at this point in the story, but I do hope that they can each find their happiness and live complete lives.
Chapter 43 – The UnknownKester was visiting Sylvia a few days before Philip arrived at Monkshaven.
He was her earliest friend and visited regularly even if he refrained from seeing her more often to avoid bothering her and the household.
Kester had brought toffees for Bella and was dressed in his Sunday bests. He has much deference for Sylvia and observes that little Bella is very much like her, but she has her father’s eyes.
This is a touchy topic – but Sylvia tells Kester that Kinraid has married, that Mrs Kinraid visited and wanted to thank Philip for having saved her husband’s life at Acre. Kester is surprised as he rather thought Philip might have been aggressive against Charley Kinraid. Now Sylvia defends her husband “he had a deal of good in him”.
Upon Kester’s asking about Philip’s whereabouts, Sylvia reveals that she has never heard of him since he left, nor was he anywhere to find when the captain asked. At long last, Sylvia has assumed that Philip was dead and his spirit came to rescue Kinraid “for trying to undo the wrongs they have done” while alive.
“He were a kind, good man”, says Sylvia, inspite of Kester’s opposite opinion, according which Philip (indeniably) spoilt her life. Kester admits that Philip spoilt his own life too after he left. Sylvia wishes she “had just a few kind words with him”.
Meanwhile, little Bella has eaten all her toffees, while Sylvia tells Kester that Jeremiah too spoils the little girl and takes her on walks to his home for lunch.
Kester has also come to inform Sylvia that he is headed to the Cheviots for fetching sheep home for a farmer. He is afraid that he might be absent for over two months, and is worried about his widow sister in a context of announced famine. Kester has left her some money but she will want to take a lodger to make it do, and the good man suggests that Sylvia might keep an eye on his sister.
Two weeks later, Sylvia goes to widow Dobson before fetching Bella at Jeremiah’s. Kester’s sister, who has a great deference for Sylvia, informs her that she has a lodger. Most probably a tramp, or a collier who was injured in the mines, as he has a burnt and blackened face with scars. He paid her in advance. Mrs Dobson had prepared some frugal meal of porridge for herself but shared it with him. Her lodger, who alluded to himself as a sinner, was extremely touched and grateful and since then, they got on well with each other. Still, he never said who he is nor where he came from.
Since a few days, he has been staying much in his room, sighing and sometimes moaning. Sylvia hears this through the thin wall, and is moved. Nevertheless, she advises Kester’s sister to be prudent and “send him off as soon as he is a bit rested”. Widow Dobson “cannot find in [her] heart to turn him out till he wants to go himself”.
"Into the sunshine went Sylvia. In the cold shadow the miserable tramp lay sighing. She did not know that she had been so near to him towards whom her heart was softening, day by day.
Widow DobsonShe is a very humble person. She has a lot of respect and consideration for everyone, including Sylvia and Kester, whom she calls Christopher. She could not possibly imagine casting out her lodger who is alone and tired. She is not especially worried about her lodger being a danger for her.
She gives what little she has to help the unknown 'miserable tramp'. She reminds me of the widow in the Gospel who gave all she had. [Parable of the Widow's Mite, presented in two of the Synoptic Gospels (Mark 12:41–44 and Luke 21:1–4), when Jesus is teaching in the Temple in Jerusalem.]
Mrs Dobson does not ask any question to Philip. When he calls himself a sinner, Mrs Dobson thinks that it is not for her to judge.
She seems to be the first person who is genuinely showing compassion and even a kind of affection for Philip, excepted the warden and the fellow brothers in the Hospital of St Sepulchre. However, Mrs Dobson's compassion is more heartfelt.
And yet a story within the storySylvia's third hand tale of how Philip rescued Kinraid is interesting. She tells it with her own words and adding her own feelings. Sylvia is more and more convinced that Philip has died somewhere and that his spirit is roaming on earth and trying to redeem the wrong he did to her and Charley. This enhances some supernatural aspects of this part of the novel, but also shows how Sylvia would like so much to say a few kind words to her husband.
I am happy that you kept posted and enjoyed the discussion, Petra! Thanks all for your comments!We are in the thick of the story for yet two more chapters!
Reading Chapter 44 on Monday 9 June!
Peter wrote: "Was his subsequent marriage one of haste, or done on ‘the rebound?’ I don’t think it matters. Charley has obviously told his wife of Philip’s heroism, and his wife comes to thank Philip. That Mrs. Kinraid does not know the history of her husband and Sylvia is immaterial.It is evident that Captain Kinraid and his wife love one another."
Claudia wrote: "Mrs Gaskell does not offer us a precise description of Mrs Kinraid’s features. She is shown as “a pretty, joyous, prosperous little bird of a woman""
Getting a scene with the new Mrs. Kinraid lets us see what might have become of Sylvia, doesn't it? Philip was wrong: Charley is not unfaithful or a sailor with a girl in every port. Look how happy and proud and in love his wife is. Could have been Sylvia, if Philip hadn't made her the victim of his idolatrous desires--and now look at her instead. If Philip were a real person I might have to feel for him, but since this is fiction I feel at liberty just to want him to die and get out of Sylvia's way. Call me Team Heart of Steel. :)
Again, what we know of Charley Kinraid comes from report rather than from first-hand observation. We hear of him leaving once he realizes that Sylvia is married with Philip's child. He marries soon after that, but we must infer his motives or the reasons for the timing of his marriage. His rescue by Philip is brought to us second-hand through his wife, and though she now refers to him as "the captain" it is not clear whether this reflects her pride in her husband or his pride in himself. Although he has married "above himself," we cannot know his true motives for the marriage (wealth, position, love?).Most of us seem to trust and excuse Charley Kinraid, but Gaskell makes it possible to suspect and blame him as well.
Other characters, also, must make assumptions based on partial information. Hester sees Philip as sacrificing and Sylvia as unfeeling. Philip assumes that Sylvia is happier without him. Sylvia sees Charley Kinraid (and vice versa) as fickle and inconstant.
Julie wrote: "Call me Team Heart of Steel. :)"lol. Julie, I tend to see Phillip more as a human being who has made a grave mistake and suffered terribly for it. I think it is very hard for human beings to put aside their own wants and desires and do what is best for someone else. He plied himself with justifications, but he knew what he had done was wrong, and he never had a moment of true happiness with Sylvia for that reason. We are compelled to forgive others, as we have been forgiven; and in the shape Phillip is in, he desperately needs to feel he can atone for his sin and be forgiven by Sylvia. I do not excuse what he has done, but I think withholding forgiveness would be wrong as well. It also seems to me that Sylvia recognizes the need to unburden her own soul. The past is lost to her, the future is all that is possible, and Phillip has loved her, in many ways too much. I hope they get the opportunity to set this right.
Erich C wrote: "Again, what we know of Charley Kinraid comes from report rather than from first-hand observation.."This is true and I don't know if we'll ever get a clear picture of Charley's motivations, thoughts, feelings at this point in the story.
However, he's a man who feels gratitude and thankfulness, as we saw when he pressed the coin into Philip's hand because of the uniform he was wearing. Charley gave a coin in remembrance of the Marine who saved him (not realizing he gave the coin to that very man). I think this shows that he has real feelings that are good and honest.
Sara wrote: "I do not excuse what he has done, but I think withholding forgiveness would be wrong as well. ..."I agree. It's difficult to forgive someone who's greatly wronged you. Yet Sylvia is growing and expanding her understanding through the reading of the scriptures, her pain & maturity and a new outlook on life because of Bella. This has shown her that good people sometimes make bad mistakes for (what is to them) good reasons.
There is room for forgiveness in a situation where the wrongdoer meant well and is full of remorse. It's difficult, but I think Sylvia is moving in that direction.
I'm really curious to know when or if she & Philip will come face to face and how such a meeting would unfold.
I'm finding myself starting to think that these two could make a good marriage with their new understanding, if they came to a place of forgiveness and acceptance. .......I'm not sure I want to think this, though. LOL.
Erich C wrote: "Again, what we know of Charley Kinraid comes from report rather than from first-hand observation. We hear of him leaving once he realizes that Sylvia is married with Philip's child. He marries soon..."Indeed most of what we know of Charley comes from hearsay.
Interestingly, the story of his rescue by Philip is brought to us three times: "live" in chapter 38, during the Siege of Acre, by the narrative voice but, for the second time in the novel from his perspective. We read a few lines from his perspective in chapter 18 just after he was kidnapped by the recruiting agents.
Then we read the story of his rescue by Philip when Mrs Kinraid told it to Sylvia second hand, with a notion of pride (his or her pride, does it really matter?), in chapter 40.
Now, chapter 43, the same story is told by Sylvia to Kester, third hand, with amazement, but she is also almost certain that it was not Philip but his spirit. A supernatural feeling is added here, corroborating the aide de camp's story in chapter 38 when Kinraid was lying on his berth and asked them to get hold of Philip.
Sara and Petra, thanks for your further thoughts on forgiveness and the possibility for a future for Philip and Sylvia. I do agree that Sylvia's self-understanding as someone who takes a position and sticks to it no matter what shows immaturity and is something she needs to grow out of. And yes, that could mean forgiveness. I think the sticking point for me is whether forgiving Philip ought to mean living as his wife. And as Petra says, I'm not sure I want to think this--or maybe I'm sure I don't!I also don't think she owes him for his love for her, largely because I've never been persuaded he truly loved her. He's never appreciated her for who she is.
I could go so far as to wish they would both learn enough to be friends, though. They are after all parents together, and there's no taking that back.
Gaskell continues to keep her readers on edge. We are now at the stage as we near the end of the novel of wondering, hoping, fearing and projecting how she will end the novel. Will we agree with her decisions? What will they be? I’ll let that go for our final discussion.One style feature I am really enjoying is how effectively she has organized her plot. We still can’t be sure where she will go. I greatly enjoy how Gaskell has woven into each of her characters both a set of fallibilities and overreaching inevitabilities. Her characters are human, they are people like us. We have watched her characters minds, beliefs,and aspirations shift, alter and even change as the book has evolved. For example, Sylvia, on speaking of Philip comments that ‘let alone that one thing … he was a kind, good man …’ As this chapter ends, Gaskell’s places Philip and Sylvia within hearing distance. The moans we as readers hear are from Philip, but also come from the deeper well of Sylvia’s heart and, I would, argue, from the minds of the readers as well.
Peter wrote: "Gaskell continues to keep her readers on edge. We are now at the stage as we near the end of the novel of wondering, hoping, fearing and projecting how she will end the novel. Will we agree with he..."Yes Peter, we are still on edge! I agree with you that the characters are human and, just like the rest of us, not really perfect. Elizabeth Gaskell's in-depth analysis of them, her observation of human nature are, with a formidable plot, some of the ingredients for a captivating and compelling novel!
Thanks Julie, Sara and Petra for your contributions on the huge theme of forgiveness which has been running throughout most of the novel!Indeed Erich, Elizabeth Gaskell makes it possible for us to excuse or blame Kinraid, and also to consider Philip, and perhaps even Sylvia from different perspectives. No key character here is cut in a single cloth. Even a coin has two faces.
I am one who wishes to see Sylvia and Philip reunite and work out a way forward in their marriage. I have also throughout the read, not thought of Philip so harshly. When they married, I really wanted Sylvia to snap out of it and quit pining for Charley because it wasn’t her place now that she was married. She and Philip can and are in the midst of figuring out their feelings and beliefs about the past and the future. Forgiveness is definitely at the heart of their future - for them to have a future it will be necessary. Sylvia has already moved on from Charley now. She won’t even call him by his name. She remarks that Philip really was a good man. I do believe this is true and that all of the things he did I the past are forgivable. When you think about what controls a person’s actions- according to scripture one of two things- either the flesh or the Spirit. Philip’s past decisions have been under the control of his flesh - it wants what it wants and he did what he did with no thought of consequences. Had he considered his actions under influence of the Spirit, it would have turned out differently. Even Sylvia behaved under the influence of her flesh - not wanting to learn to read, wanting the red cloak, desiring Charley even after her marriage and birth of her child. I just find this is a different t way to look at the entire scenario between Sylvia and her “lovers”. I hope what I said made sense.
Lori wrote: "I am one who wishes to see Sylvia and Philip reunite and work out a way forward in their marriage. I have also throughout the read, not thought of Philip so harshly. When they married, I really wan..."Yes Lori what you said made sense!
I can't believe we have only two chapters till the end. Gaskell has kept up the suspense but has not left much room for whatever resolution she chooses. I see two possibles and can only hope that she may even surprise me with something I haven't considered. I did not respond when the new Mrs. Kinraid appeared but I think it is important to consider whether Sylvia recognized the differences between herself and Mrs.Kinraid. I believe it was hinted at in previous posts. Kinraid has obviously jumped class and in comparing the two women Sylvia comes out much the less especially if one considerers the role of a Captain's wife.
As we read the last two chapters there are so many questions to consider but the one I'll ask us to think about is--Has Gaskell overdone Philip's crime and punishment? When I look at Philip, his punishment at present ranks up there with some pretty nasty villains, Milton's Satan, and the Bible's Cain or The Wandering Jew.
Sam wrote: "I can't believe we have only two chapters till the end. Gaskell has kept up the suspense but has not left much room for whatever resolution she chooses. I see two possibles and can only hope that s..."Yes Sam! We mentioned that Kinraid had jumped class in chapter 40.
I mentioned Cain when we read about Sylvia's visit
to Jeremiah Foster in chapter 34 who referred to Philip as Cain: "And the end of it has been that he is driven forth like Cain."
Chapter 44 – First WordsThere was a memorable famine in the spring of 1800, because of the war, the corn-laws and a poor harvest in autumn 1799.
Philip has recovered but become very hungry, and cannot afford much food with his pension of 6 d (d for denarius, sixpence in the old money) a day. He walks for hours around his former house, and feels disadvantaged because of his appearance and accordingly, he does not dare to “assert his right” to go home.
He stands not far from it and watches “the summer’s eve fading into night”, the closing of the shop, the exit of the good, comfortable William Coulson now going home to his wife. Then Philip goes to the shady side of the streets, crosses the bridge, looking on the “quiet rippling stream” and back to poor widow Dobson, hungry, to his room where he recalls the lessons he gave Sylvia in the warm and bright kitchen at Haytersbank, “and the dead were alive; and Charley Kinraid the specksioneer had never come to trouble the hopeful, gentle peace.”
Sylvia calls regularly upon the poor widow and gladly gives her some money. She fears that the “tramp” is preying upon Kester’s sister. Mrs Dobson shares her frugal meals with her lodger, who she does not want to send off, it would be sending him to his death.
One evening, Sylvia walks back from Jeremiah’s with little Bella. She recognizes Mrs Dobson’s lodger “creeping along”, often stopping to rest. Her fear that he could rob her purse gives “place to pity”. She tells Bella to go a few steps ahead and give him a cake where she has slipped a half-crown into it. “Poor man, eat this. Bella not hungry”. “These were the first words he had ever heard his child utter”. Philip tries to hide “his disfigured face by looking over the parapet of the bridge down upon the stream running away towards the ocean, into which his hot tears slowly fell, unheeded by the weeper.”
Bella is extremely impressed by this and reenacts the scene at home, with Hester round watch for the cake. She unwillingly breaks the watch, which Hester then takes to Mr Darley to repair. While waiting for Mr Darley’s diagnosis, Hester spots another watch, which she identifies as Philip’s watch, bearing ZH initials for Zachary Hepburn. She knows with certainty that Philip would never have parted with this “relic of his dead father”. She asks Mr Darley to enquire about the man who brought this watch, as she thinks and hopes that Philip could be around. Mr Darley also mentions that the owner of the watch, which he put for sale, asked him to make a hole in a silver coin, a half-crown. He supposes that the man wanted ready money for food.
Hester leaves fearing that Philip might be “starving, as too many were, for insufficiency of means to buy the high-priced food". She thinks of “the succulent, comfortable meals which Sylvia provided” to their household, “at the head of which Philip ought to have been, but his place knew him not.”
Hester is still haunted by Sylvia’s words one fateful evening “I can niver forgive him the wrong he did to me”. Hester wonders if she could bring Sylvia and Philip together again. She seeks refuge in Scriptures. “With God all things are possible” is the verse which comforts her most.
But the closing words added by the narrator are particularly ominous: “There is a peacemaker whose name is Death”.
FamineAccording to historical sources, there was no famine in Yorkshire in 1800. However, our experience teaches us that, in an era of primarily local commerce, some communities were likely to be affected by poor harvests due to adverse weather conditions or crop parasites.
We know, however, that Elizabeth Gaskell, her husband and her daughters were actively helping in Manchester during the Cotton Famine, which had severe consequences for the textile industry. Many families were starving and falling ill due to insufficient food. We catch a glimpse of this in Mary Barton which described an later period (the 1840ies). Mrs Gaskell was undoubtedly deeply affected by the difficulty of finding solutions for every family, and there was often no satisfactory remedy for the situations she encountered.
Guy of Warwick or Odysseus?Unlike Ulysses, he has not been helped by Athena, who transformed the hero's appearance now back to Ithaca to enable him to avenge the excesses of the 108 suitors in his palace during his absence. Philip's disfigurement is no Athena's trick. It is not provisory but permanent, as is his weakness and extreme fatigue, now worsened by want of food. Unlike Ulysses he has no intention of vengeance. Will he survive?
Philip has been seen twice in this chapter, unknown and barely noticed. He walks in the shadows and goes out at dusk. He feeds himself on his proximity with Sylvia and Bella, hearing them through the thin wall when Sylvia visits Kester's sister in her modest cottage, or watching them from a distance at dusk, watching his family's happiness in their/his home, sweet home.
Once again, Philip is pictured alone, out in the shadows and in the night - one more evening scene - when others are together in the light.
Sylvia saw him and Bella his daughter gave him a cake with a coin in it. He has just sold his last family relic, a watch bearing his father's initials. Hester's attentive eye to everything Philip has spotted the watch in the shop and found out that "a man" asked the watch repairer to make a hole in the silver coin. The same coin was given by Sylvia and handed out by Bella who spoke to him with all the innocence and kindness of a little child. He wants to keep the coin and cherish it as a precious relic.
There are many sad details in this chapter: a father's tears on a bridge over troubled water, Hester's desperate wish to ascertain Philip's presence and reconcile the two spouses, closing lines with a terrible foreboding.
Philip seems to embody the medieval Legend of Guy of Warwick: he is very near his wife and daughter but is unrecognised by them.
We will read Chapter 45 on Tuesday 10 June!
Sam wrote: "Has Gaskell overdone Philip's crime and punishment?"As we've already noticed, the tone and character of the volumes has changed over the course of the novel. Gaskell has abandoned realism for melodrama/spiritual allegory, which to me is not for the best.
Philip's enlistment (and new name) are a symbolic suicide. What is his motivation for saving Kinraid? Is it a distasteful duty, repayment of a debt, a sacrifice for Sylvia?
If Philip has regrets, are they the right ones? Besides ruining Sylvia's future with the LIE, he has not respected her as an individual and as a woman. Does he recognize that he has not truly loved her but has expected her to conform to his ideal? Does he understand that his "love" has been an impulse to power and control?
Gaskell has not allowed us to be privy to Philip's thoughts, so his motivations are not entirely clear. We know that he wanted Sylvia to love him, that he feared his secret would be revealed, that he abandoned his home as some sort of atonement for his lie. However, we don't see that he truly regrets what he has done; he comforts (justifies) himself with the idea that Kinraid would not have been a good husband for Sylvia, that his lie was a merciful white lie after all. He doesn't seem to realize that he has profoundly changed the lives of two people. Whether Sylvia would have been happy or unhappy with Kinraid, Philip did not have the right to do what he did.
So Sam, my answer is Gaskell's "punishment" isn't a real consequence of his sins as much as it is a melodramatic manipulation to make Philip into a sympathetic hero. He selflessly saves his nemesis and is wounded, and then he is a victim of an explosion on the ship. It doesn't mean that he has atoned for his actions.
Dickensians!
Books mentioned in this topic
Gli innamorati di Sylvia (other topics)Los amores de Sylvia (other topics)
Les Amoureux de Sylvia (other topics)
Waiting for Godot (other topics)
En attendant Godot (other topics)
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Authors mentioned in this topic
Samuel Beckett (other topics)Victor Hugo (other topics)
Charles Dickens (other topics)
Anthony Trollope (other topics)
Thomas Hardy (other topics)
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I noticed, and many of you also did, the recurrence of the red colour from the beginning of the novel. We remember Sylvia’s red cloak, her red lips, and have seen that Philip was recruited in the corps of British Royal Marines, who wear a red jacket. Purple, crimson, red hues were omnipresent in chapter 38 in the description of the seascape, the flowers and then the battlefield at St Jean d’Acre, and, ultimately, the fiery furnace on board the Theseus where Philip was burnt.
We read that “Sylvia drew Bella out of sight behind some great bales of red flannel” when Mrs Kinraid turned up into the shop. Is not the red flannel reminding us of the war, of Philip’s red jacket and of Philip’s ordeal of which only we, the readers, know?
Here are very interesting and useful explanations on British Royal Marines during the Napoleonic Wars, with illustrations. The author, John Danielski, writes:
"The Royal Marines were the unsung British heroes of the Napoleonic Wars. They played distinguished roles in many engagements both at sea and on land; their motto of per mare, per terram reflects this. Yet all too often, their gallant conduct is merely alluded to rather than discussed in detail by both naval historians and maritime novelists."
https://militaryhistorynow.com/2016/1...
Is Philip Hepburn an unsung hero?