Okay, I'm going to try to put my thoughts into words. This is SO HARD with this book - just the way the characters talk makes that impossibly difficult! Everything is only alluded to, almost never spoken outright. Even the moments of relief that the Governess describes as bringing things into the open feel like they're still obscuring the truth.
Some of this seems to be cultural - for example, the final confrontation suggested to me that part of the reason the Governess never confronted Miles about what he'd done at school was her own weird flightiness and insistence on putting him up on a pedestal. But in addition to that, she (and Mrs. Grose) have an equally strong reluctance to accuse him of anything, because it is Simply Not Done to directly accuse a gentleman of dishonorable conduct. Even suggesting he could be "vulgar" is a profound insult permissible only in the face of incontrovertible proof. And we *still* never actually learn what he said. Of course, James is using these obscuring rules of etiquette in the service of his narrative. But there were many times when I couldn't quite tell where the Governess' unreliability ended and an understandable-to-the-contemporary-reader genteel obfuscation began.
The Governess and Mrs. Grose's reluctance to speak about exactly what it was Quint and Jessel were supposed to have conspired to do to the children is the biggest gap, to me. This is a place where the understanding of class baked into the book is just totally foreign. I felt like there was so much I was intended to understand about Quint and Jessel's relationship, the circumstances of their parting, and their influence on the children that went completely over my head.
Maybe this is completely out of left field, or something I'm getting entirely from my own modern sensibilities - but I wondered early on if there was some implication that Quint and Jessel were, in some way, grooming or abusing the children. Maybe the idea that too much time around a "menial" and his scandalous girlfriend could turn children into evil monsters was totally commonplace at the time this was written -- maybe just hearing that a young upper-class boy hung out with a [gasp] servant-class rake would make people sob and faint with horror, and it's no worse than that. But I found myself looking for proof of my theory - wondering if Miles had done something unspeakable to other children, if the strange, manipulative "corruption" the Governess saw in them was a sign of psychological damage, if her delusion and overprotection was her being so overcome with horror at the idea, she was unable to cope.
These are such interesting thoughts! I love your suggestion that the Governess never confronts Miles directly because it would be somehow dishonorable in their system.
I agree that contemporary American readers really don’t have a sense of the class issues and refinances in the book. In fact I would love to do a whole nother analysis of the book from a social class perspective, because James is definitely giving us enough material, especially with everything Mrs. Grose (a symbolic name!) says about Miles and Quint.
Many readers have assumed that Quint and Miss Jessel sexually abused the children. I don’t think that’s likely, but I do think the children saw more of their affair than would be appropriate and have lost their innocence, and that loss alone would be horrifying to James’s audience I think.
I think your last paragraph there is the much more likely explanation. The Governess really *wants* them to be as angelic and innocent as she thinks of them, and it says something that her biggest moment of horror is when Miles tells her forthrightly that he wants to experience life outside her care. That that is a sign, to her, of moral corruption does not speak well of her.
Something that always fascinates me in books from this era: The selective invisibility of the servants. The Governess will describe a house as “empty” that has six or seven members of the staff in it, because their presence doesn’t count as a human presence. Outside of Mrs. Grose and the twice-mentioned “Luke” the errand man, they exist only in the collective.
Yes! And when the Governess says at the end that no one is in the house except for her and Miles, Miles mentions “the others.” It seems totally obvious to me that he could be referring to the servants, who do live there, but it doesn’t occur to the Governess that he could be referring to anyone other than the ghosts. It’s like the servants aren’t even people to them.
Oh, dang. I didn’t pick up on that double meaning. There are so many places where someone doesn’t *quite* say something but the Governess divines a very precise meaning from it nonetheless.
Miles, if he was really so tight with Quint, might have more reason than most now to see the servants around him as people.
Oh, I was thinking “gross” in the sense of common and base. In college I had a class where we read The American, and the names were all just ridiculously symbolic--Mrs. Bread was the housekeeper, Claire de Cintré (constrained) was the beautiful but cloistered young lady, Christopher Newman was the eponymous American, etc. Our professor told us to always pay attention to character names in James--which is why I find it fascinating that there are so few names in The Turn of the Screw.
While there are indeed ambiguities and mysteries to ponder, one point seemed immediately clear, the ghosts are real. I felt a sense of it in the setup, with the household characters hiding something, and the uncle claiming so strongly not to bother him with anything, as though he knew there would be supernatural trouble. But then the governess describes the ghost she's seen for the 2nd time to the housekeeper, who clearly recognizes the man as the deceased valet. (I would later find that exact argument used to counter the original proposal to the "insane governess" theory, proposed for the first time 40 years after the publication of the story.) Assuming the housekeeper is at that point not just making it up, for some reason giving the governess's oddly specific description of her ghost a foot in reality, we can only conclude she saw a real face.
The remainder of the story has the children and the housekeeper in denial of seeing the ghosts for themselves, which I can see how might imply the question of their existence. But they all dost protest too much. Not one of them acts like any rational person would in "not seeing" a ghost as declared by the protagonist. They don't question, or look around, or say "really, are you sure?" in any attempt to see what would certainly be a unique experience! Instead, they look away, shield their eyes, and declare with no hesitation there are most certainly no ghosts to be seen. The housekeeper at one point at the lake does seem on the verge of admitting to the ghost, but retreats in fear of contradicting the strong denial of the little girl. Again, her protest seemed exaggerated to me. (But what do I know about Gothic novels?) I think that they all know the ghosts are there, and for whatever reason intend to keep their secrets.
Perhaps another "alternative narrative" that the author might have had in mind: that for some unknown reason the uncle, the staff and the children are all in on some conspiracy to drive the governess mad. It might be a parlor game they like to play, having dispatched of the valet and previous governess with similar accusations. The ghosts are in fact actors playing the part, with full knowlege of the rest of the household. It could be like John Fowles "The Magus" where some poor sap is driven crazy by and island full of people lying to him about all kinds of conflicting stories.
I admit that as much as I enjoyed reading the novel itself (as well as "Daisy Miller" included in my book) I was annoyed by my subsequent research, reading the literary criticism about the book, especially the seemingly pointless debate about whether the ghosts are simply imagined. Although I did learn new things like "structuralism" and "new criticism" etc. which is always fun!
I talk a bit about the critical response at the end of next week’s essay. I agree that it is revealing that most critics miss the fact that the ghosts have to be real.
Not yet, but I recently watched The Innocents (with Deborah Kerr) and thought it was very interesting. I started The Haunting at Bly House--an updated version on Netflix--today, but I’m kind of meh on it and will probably stop. Maybe I should watch The Others instead.
By the way, this book reminded me in some ways of my favorite horror movie, J.A. Bayona's "The Orphanage/El Orfanato." (Content warning: it's not just creepy but REALLY SAD.) It also twists and turns around the question of whether the ghosts the female caretaker and the children in her care can see are real, what their intentions are re: the children, and whether she can save her children from their "corruption" before it's too late. There's a similar feeling of having to recalibrate your understanding of what's going on multiple times before the ending. It's just such a good formula!
I enjoyed your take and the questions you asked. What interested me most was how well James keeps tension expanding throughout the book. It is indeed a psychological thriller. Looking forward to the next installment - and too seeing you soon!
A comment on the cartoon. Yes! My COVID reading was Russian novels and though I'd read them long ago I was lost in the names. This time I sorted it out and have made my way through quite a few. But the key was sorting those names.
Henry James is on my list and I am hoping this book discussion will give me a kick start.
Okay, I'm going to try to put my thoughts into words. This is SO HARD with this book - just the way the characters talk makes that impossibly difficult! Everything is only alluded to, almost never spoken outright. Even the moments of relief that the Governess describes as bringing things into the open feel like they're still obscuring the truth.
Some of this seems to be cultural - for example, the final confrontation suggested to me that part of the reason the Governess never confronted Miles about what he'd done at school was her own weird flightiness and insistence on putting him up on a pedestal. But in addition to that, she (and Mrs. Grose) have an equally strong reluctance to accuse him of anything, because it is Simply Not Done to directly accuse a gentleman of dishonorable conduct. Even suggesting he could be "vulgar" is a profound insult permissible only in the face of incontrovertible proof. And we *still* never actually learn what he said. Of course, James is using these obscuring rules of etiquette in the service of his narrative. But there were many times when I couldn't quite tell where the Governess' unreliability ended and an understandable-to-the-contemporary-reader genteel obfuscation began.
The Governess and Mrs. Grose's reluctance to speak about exactly what it was Quint and Jessel were supposed to have conspired to do to the children is the biggest gap, to me. This is a place where the understanding of class baked into the book is just totally foreign. I felt like there was so much I was intended to understand about Quint and Jessel's relationship, the circumstances of their parting, and their influence on the children that went completely over my head.
Maybe this is completely out of left field, or something I'm getting entirely from my own modern sensibilities - but I wondered early on if there was some implication that Quint and Jessel were, in some way, grooming or abusing the children. Maybe the idea that too much time around a "menial" and his scandalous girlfriend could turn children into evil monsters was totally commonplace at the time this was written -- maybe just hearing that a young upper-class boy hung out with a [gasp] servant-class rake would make people sob and faint with horror, and it's no worse than that. But I found myself looking for proof of my theory - wondering if Miles had done something unspeakable to other children, if the strange, manipulative "corruption" the Governess saw in them was a sign of psychological damage, if her delusion and overprotection was her being so overcome with horror at the idea, she was unable to cope.
These are such interesting thoughts! I love your suggestion that the Governess never confronts Miles directly because it would be somehow dishonorable in their system.
I agree that contemporary American readers really don’t have a sense of the class issues and refinances in the book. In fact I would love to do a whole nother analysis of the book from a social class perspective, because James is definitely giving us enough material, especially with everything Mrs. Grose (a symbolic name!) says about Miles and Quint.
Many readers have assumed that Quint and Miss Jessel sexually abused the children. I don’t think that’s likely, but I do think the children saw more of their affair than would be appropriate and have lost their innocence, and that loss alone would be horrifying to James’s audience I think.
I think your last paragraph there is the much more likely explanation. The Governess really *wants* them to be as angelic and innocent as she thinks of them, and it says something that her biggest moment of horror is when Miles tells her forthrightly that he wants to experience life outside her care. That that is a sign, to her, of moral corruption does not speak well of her.
Something that always fascinates me in books from this era: The selective invisibility of the servants. The Governess will describe a house as “empty” that has six or seven members of the staff in it, because their presence doesn’t count as a human presence. Outside of Mrs. Grose and the twice-mentioned “Luke” the errand man, they exist only in the collective.
Yes! And when the Governess says at the end that no one is in the house except for her and Miles, Miles mentions “the others.” It seems totally obvious to me that he could be referring to the servants, who do live there, but it doesn’t occur to the Governess that he could be referring to anyone other than the ghosts. It’s like the servants aren’t even people to them.
Oh, dang. I didn’t pick up on that double meaning. There are so many places where someone doesn’t *quite* say something but the Governess divines a very precise meaning from it nonetheless.
Miles, if he was really so tight with Quint, might have more reason than most now to see the servants around him as people.
I forgot to ask earlier - what is the symbolism of Mrs. Grose’s name?
Oh, I was thinking “gross” in the sense of common and base. In college I had a class where we read The American, and the names were all just ridiculously symbolic--Mrs. Bread was the housekeeper, Claire de Cintré (constrained) was the beautiful but cloistered young lady, Christopher Newman was the eponymous American, etc. Our professor told us to always pay attention to character names in James--which is why I find it fascinating that there are so few names in The Turn of the Screw.
While there are indeed ambiguities and mysteries to ponder, one point seemed immediately clear, the ghosts are real. I felt a sense of it in the setup, with the household characters hiding something, and the uncle claiming so strongly not to bother him with anything, as though he knew there would be supernatural trouble. But then the governess describes the ghost she's seen for the 2nd time to the housekeeper, who clearly recognizes the man as the deceased valet. (I would later find that exact argument used to counter the original proposal to the "insane governess" theory, proposed for the first time 40 years after the publication of the story.) Assuming the housekeeper is at that point not just making it up, for some reason giving the governess's oddly specific description of her ghost a foot in reality, we can only conclude she saw a real face.
The remainder of the story has the children and the housekeeper in denial of seeing the ghosts for themselves, which I can see how might imply the question of their existence. But they all dost protest too much. Not one of them acts like any rational person would in "not seeing" a ghost as declared by the protagonist. They don't question, or look around, or say "really, are you sure?" in any attempt to see what would certainly be a unique experience! Instead, they look away, shield their eyes, and declare with no hesitation there are most certainly no ghosts to be seen. The housekeeper at one point at the lake does seem on the verge of admitting to the ghost, but retreats in fear of contradicting the strong denial of the little girl. Again, her protest seemed exaggerated to me. (But what do I know about Gothic novels?) I think that they all know the ghosts are there, and for whatever reason intend to keep their secrets.
Perhaps another "alternative narrative" that the author might have had in mind: that for some unknown reason the uncle, the staff and the children are all in on some conspiracy to drive the governess mad. It might be a parlor game they like to play, having dispatched of the valet and previous governess with similar accusations. The ghosts are in fact actors playing the part, with full knowlege of the rest of the household. It could be like John Fowles "The Magus" where some poor sap is driven crazy by and island full of people lying to him about all kinds of conflicting stories.
I admit that as much as I enjoyed reading the novel itself (as well as "Daisy Miller" included in my book) I was annoyed by my subsequent research, reading the literary criticism about the book, especially the seemingly pointless debate about whether the ghosts are simply imagined. Although I did learn new things like "structuralism" and "new criticism" etc. which is always fun!
I talk a bit about the critical response at the end of next week’s essay. I agree that it is revealing that most critics miss the fact that the ghosts have to be real.
I think this is such a fascinating take on the story and would love to see a film or theatrical version of it!
Have you seen The Others???
Not yet, but I recently watched The Innocents (with Deborah Kerr) and thought it was very interesting. I started The Haunting at Bly House--an updated version on Netflix--today, but I’m kind of meh on it and will probably stop. Maybe I should watch The Others instead.
I think Mrs. Grose authentically can’t see them, but Flora and Miles definitely can.
Wait till next week! I agree that the Governess’s precise description of Quint is proof that the ghosts have to be real.
I love the meme! Even though I haven't read any Russian lit, I can tell it's accurate.
It is! Every character has at least three names, plus there are always about 100 characters. Very confusing!
By the way, this book reminded me in some ways of my favorite horror movie, J.A. Bayona's "The Orphanage/El Orfanato." (Content warning: it's not just creepy but REALLY SAD.) It also twists and turns around the question of whether the ghosts the female caretaker and the children in her care can see are real, what their intentions are re: the children, and whether she can save her children from their "corruption" before it's too late. There's a similar feeling of having to recalibrate your understanding of what's going on multiple times before the ending. It's just such a good formula!
Thanks for the recommendation! I think I am going to have to put together a list of book and movie adaptions--for all of us!
I enjoyed your take and the questions you asked. What interested me most was how well James keeps tension expanding throughout the book. It is indeed a psychological thriller. Looking forward to the next installment - and too seeing you soon!
Me too!
A comment on the cartoon. Yes! My COVID reading was Russian novels and though I'd read them long ago I was lost in the names. This time I sorted it out and have made my way through quite a few. But the key was sorting those names.
Henry James is on my list and I am hoping this book discussion will give me a kick start.
I always have to make myself a chart--otherwise I get totally confused.
I hope you will enjoy The Turn of the Screw in spite of all the spoilers!