Seduction and Betrayal by Elizabeth Hardwick
I mentioned in a post earlier this year that I narrowly missed picking up a duplicate copy of Elizabeth Hardwick’s seminal collection of essays when I was in the wonderful Foyles, Charing Cross Road. It’s been re-released in a very pretty Faber edition, but I had a feeling in the back of my head that I might already own it. Turned out that I did, in a lovely old NYRB Classics edition. Spotting in the wild did, however, bring it back onto my radar; and as I’d heard such great things about it, I made a point of picking it up fairly soon after my London trip.
The book was originally published in 1974, and collects together a number of essays from the early 1970s. The subject matter is, in effect, women *in* literature and women *writing* literature; and the book focuses on a number of names we’re probably all familiar with, as well as taking on the knotty subjects of the book’s title in the final piece. Indeed, that title refers as much to the effect of literature on women as the subject matter of some of the essays. Hardwick is an author I’d read before; I have some of her works in lovely green Virago editions, and I reviewed “Sleepless Nights” on the Ramblings way back in 2012. Her writing style is distinctive and very individual, and she brings a rigorous intellect to these essays. I didn’t always necessarily agree with her, but I did find the book very stimulating.
To get to specifics. The book opens with a substantial piece on the Brontes and their work, their lives and their impact. Hardwick goes on to consider the women in the plays of Henrik Ibsen; he certainly was a man who focused strongly on female characters. The next section of the book looks at women Hardwick designates as ‘Victims and Victors’; this contains essays on Zelda Fitzgerald, Sylvia Plath, and Bloomsbury and Virginia Woof. Following this are the ‘Amateurs’, Dorothy Wordsworth and Jane Carlyle. And the book closes with “Seduction and Betrayal”, a very thought-provoking essay which explores seduction in the arts from Don Giovanni to much more modern works.
As you can see, it’s an eclectic mix, combining authors, characters and women who did not consider themselves as writers but whose letters and journals are still read today. And Hardwick is a provocative and insightful commentator. Her take on the Brontes is fascinating, and a counter to the bucolic image which has grown up around them. Hardwick refuses to soften, whitewash or sanitise these women, allowing them their anger and strength. When you look at the circumstances and places from which the women sprang, they are simply extraordinary.
… neighbours and families and gossip, boredom, marriage, money, and work are still what the drama of life is about.
Ibsen is an author with whom I’ve had a limited acquaintance; as far as I can recall, I’ve only read his play “Brand” which doesn’t really feature here, having as it does a strong male central character. However, the discussion of his women, who are often powerful memorable characters dominating his plays, is fascinating and actually made me keen to read more of him. I certainly can’t help but agree with this exchange which Hardwick quotes from one of his works:
In one of the most striking bits of dialogue between husband and wife, Helmner says, “… no man sacrifices his honour, not even for the one he loves.“ “Millions of women have done so,“ Nora replies.
“Victims and Victors” is an interesting grouping of subjects, though I’m not sure I entirely approve of the titling here. To regard any of these women as victims somehow seems to detract from their work and all are significant artists. However, the piece on Zelda Fitzgerald is particularly insightful, highlighting the difference in attitudes towards creative men and women. The kind of behaviour tolerated in men, as creative and artistic, is dismissed as hysterical or mad in women, and it’s time we moved on from that. The essay on Bloomsbury and Woolf perhaps slightly missed the mark for me; the focus is on elements of class and sexuality; bearing in mind the time which has elapsed since the essay was written, and how much our attitudes have changed and our knowledge of Woolf and her compatriots increased, it has perhaps dated less well. However, some of her commentary of Woolf’s writing is spot on and I did enjoy the essay.
The two pieces on the women Hardwick classes as ‘amateurs’ making thought-provoking reading. Both in effect lived in the shadow of ‘great men’ – poet William Wordsworth and author Thomas Carlyle. Much of their efforts went into supporting these ‘geniuses’; and yet they still found time for their own writing, in the form of journals and letters, and these in many ways are more readable and approachable than the men’s writing. Dorothy found fulfilment from her close relationship with her brother, and most likely would never have written works for publication on her own; likewise, Jane Carlyle was a social animal, organising her husband, holding court at their Cheyne Walk house, and writing witty letters in a time when that was the only mode of communication. They left us not only snapshots of life with the great men, but also a record of their own lives which is quite fascinating.
…flirtation, surrender, pregnancy, misery. This is the plot of existence.
As for the final (title) essay, it’s a tricky one. It does indeed deal with seduction and betrayal in literature; and of course the ultimate end stage of seduction is rape, which exists as a topic and a plot device in a worrying number of early works of art. It’s actually a bit shocking to consider how many novels, operas and the like rely on whether a woman will put out as the main thrust (ahem) of their plot. Hardwick is of the opinion that in the modern world, this kind of plot has probably had its day; certainly, the consequence of enjoying sex, in the form of unwanted pregnancy, doesn’t always have the destructive effect on a woman’s life that it used to – well, at least in some cultures. However, women are still judged on their sexuality so I’m not entirely convinced everything has changed.
I’ve left what for me is the highlight of the collection until the end of my post. I confess I was probably most excited about reading the Plath essay, and it didn’t disappoint. Hardwick digs deep into Plath’s art, identifying the anger in the poet’s work and investigating the roots of this. She refuses to paint Plath as a martyr, linking her with other strong female poets of the 20th century like Bishop, Moore and Sexton; and I found the piece very moving. Hardwick astutely links Woolf and Plath; but I think she perhaps underplays the focus of the latter’s famous poem “Daddy” in considering it mainly relation to the poet’s father and ignoring the reading of it as also being in relation to her husband. Nevertheless, Hardwick’s discussion of the portrayal of death in Plath’s verse was particularly pithy; her highlighting of the relationship in “The Ball Jar” between the Rosenberg’s execution by electric chair and Plath’s own ECT was chilling; and the essay really made me want to re-engage with Plath’s poetry.In the end, what is overwhelming, new, original, in Sylvia Plath is the burning singularity of temperament, the exigent spirit clothed but not calmed by the purest understanding of the English poetic tradition.
So overall this was a really engrossing and, yes, seductive collection of of essays exploring the intersection of women’s art and their behaviour, the forces that impelled them to create, the cultural influences restricting them and the great achievements they made. Certainly, all of these women who were creators have left a lasting legacy; all of the women who were characters have entered into the canon; and the book is proof, if it were needed, that women are just as capable of creating great art as men are, particularly when the domestic side of life can be got out of their way. I’m glad a random sighting of this book prompted me to search out my copy of “Seduction and Betrayal” as it was a wonderful read; and I think I may have to bump my other unread Hardwicks a bit further up the TBR! D
(Hey! The second title of the month which qualifies as a non-fiction work for the challenge!)
Nov 18, 2019 @ 07:15:33
This is a book I’ve looked at a few times in bookshops (Foyles included) without ever managing to make it to the till. As such, I’m grateful for your thorough commentary on its contents. It’s interesting that your found the essays very stimulating, even if you didn’t always agree with Hardwick’s stance on these topics. That’s a sign of a good essayist, I suspect…
Nov 18, 2019 @ 11:37:49
Yes, it was seeing it when we were in Foyles that bumped it up to the top of my mental list! It’s an excellent book – I don’t mind not always agreeing with an author, as long as the essay is stimulating. And you’re right – she is a really good essayist!
Nov 18, 2019 @ 08:21:34
A wonderful review! I read this last month but somehow did not get around to writing about it.
Like you, for me the piece on Sylvia Plath was the highlight of the collection, while the essay on Woolf didn’t really stand out.
Overall though I loved Hardwick’s writing and her ability to make every essay interesting,
I found that NYRB Classics had released a collection of her essays, so I know I will eventually buy it at some point 🙂
Nov 18, 2019 @ 11:36:53
Thank you! Yes, the piece on Plath was definitely the most powerful (but then Plath is one of my all-time favourites…) As for the Woolf one, I think it definitely has aged less well. We’ve learned so much about the whole Bloomsbury milieu since the essay was written, for one thing. And I wonder if there’s an American-English cultural divide? Nevertheless, she does indeed make her essays interesting even if the subject is one you know little about (Ibsen!) I suspect that rather chunky NYRB collection may have to head my way too!
Nov 19, 2019 @ 11:51:33
Completely agree on the Ibsen. I hadn’t read any of his plays and the only one I had heard about was A Doll’s House. And yet, I found each of those three pieces quite fascinating!
Nov 19, 2019 @ 13:45:14
They were. Just shows her strength as an essayist that she was able to convey so much, even to someone who didn’t know the plays.
Nov 18, 2019 @ 08:32:27
An excellent review and sound fascinating to read; nice to have something to argue with sometimes, too!
Nov 18, 2019 @ 11:33:07
Thanks Liz! It is a good book, and I enjoyed flexing my intellectual muscles a little and thinking that I didn’t always agree! :DD
Nov 18, 2019 @ 08:57:25
What a great review and what a great collection! This is I must find soon!
Nov 18, 2019 @ 11:32:33
Thanks! It’s definitely worth reading – some of her insights are very profound.
Nov 18, 2019 @ 09:27:42
EW’s approach sounds interesting but I’m sure you’re justified in taking issue with some aspects of it.
Nov 18, 2019 @ 11:32:08
She really does shed some interesting light on the women and characters she covers, and much is profound. However, our perspectives on some of her subjects have inevitably changed, particularly with the additional knowledge we have about them. Always an interested read, though! 😀
Nov 18, 2019 @ 13:36:19
Oh yes, this is a masterpiece of literary criticism, philosophy, from a feminist outlook. I don’t think your criticisms have real purchase as what at heart you are objecting to is the lack of optimism, the upbeat point of view insisted on by publishers to the point that we cannot see anguished truths. Sleepless Nights is a companion piece.
Nov 18, 2019 @ 13:51:03
It is indeed a great work of criticism. However, I’m a little confused as to your comment on lack of optimism; I can’t see that I implied that anywhere. My main criticism was of her essay on Woolf which I felt missed the mark, but the rest of the book was very effective.
Nov 18, 2019 @ 16:58:03
A brilliant sounding collection of essays. I have been attracted by this collection having also read Sleepless Nights and her novel The Ghostly Lover, but I think perhaps these essays might be repeated in another much larger volume of Hardwick essays that I have. I am very attracted by the Brontes essay that does sound excellent. So lovely to have pieces about so many women writers collected together, but I suppose it’s inevitable that some like the Woolf essay could have dated a little.
Nov 18, 2019 @ 18:57:12
It really is a good collection. I guess you have the chunky NYRB collected essays, and it may be that these appear in that. They’re most definitely worth reading – the Brontes piece is very strong, and as you say lovely to have the women all collected together. The Woolf piece just didn’t agree with my view of her – but then I guess all of these things are subjective!
Nov 18, 2019 @ 19:04:20
Yes, it is the big NYRB collection that I have. The trouble with big collections is I leave them unread for ages.
Nov 18, 2019 @ 19:06:53
LOL! I’m the same – also with big collected volumes of poetry! ;D
Nov 18, 2019 @ 17:26:21
This sounds really interesting. I’ve only read Sleepless Nights by Hardwick but I’d like to read more. I suppose it’s inevitable that these date but it sounds like there’s still plenty of food for thought here.
Nov 18, 2019 @ 18:55:42
She’s a most interesting author – I’d only read Sleepless Nights too, but I have others of hers on the TBR and I’m keen to get to them. Inevitably, critical views will change over the decades, but much of what she says is pithy criticism, and it was really only her take on Woolf which diverged from my views. Definitely worth reading!
Nov 18, 2019 @ 19:57:06
Great review, Karen! I have this book somewhere on my shelves, and now you made me want to pick it up! I am particularly curious about the essays on the Brontes and on Jane Carlyle… I’ve only read Hardwick’s fiction (Sleepless Nights and The Ghostly Lover). Thank you for bringing this essay collection back to my attention 🙂
Nov 18, 2019 @ 20:06:18
Thank you Juliana! It *is* a really great collection, and I highly recommend it. The Brontes essay is excellent, as is the Carlyle one – I find Jane fascinating and have put the Persephone book about her on my wishlist.
Nov 19, 2019 @ 03:48:48
Have you read ‘Sleepless Nights’ by Elizabeth Hardwick? It is a wonderful novel.
However I did not care very much for ‘The Bell Jar’ and have not found a Plath poem that I really like.
Nov 19, 2019 @ 10:13:58
I have – I reviewed it here https://kaggsysbookishramblings.wordpress.com/2012/11/02/virago-volumes-sleepless-nights-by-elizabeth-hardwick/ – and I do agree it’s great. As for Plath, she’s one of my all-time favourites – her books would be coming to that desert island with me! 😀
Feb 02, 2020 @ 15:54:56