A Strong Female Sensibility


Clear Horizon by Dorothy Richardson

I’m playing catch-up a little bit with my reviews, as I did a *lot* of reading over the Christmas period, but didn’t get round to writing up my thoughts. However, I was really pleased to get back to reading Richardson after a bit of a break – the holidays were the ideal time to read her, as I had longer uninterrupted chunks with the book! This is the first of three titles left to read before I finish the series, and “Clear Horizon” was first published in 1935.


The book opens with Miriam still at Mrs. Bailey’s, and a new edition to the boarders has arrived in the form of Lionel Cholmley (is he the young man from the end of the previous story? Who knows?) However, he soon disappears from view so whether he will be significant in the future remains to be seen. In fact, “Clear Horizon” is a book where on the surface of it not much happens, but if you read carefully, Miriam goes through some major changes. For a start, there is a possible pregnancy (Hypo commenting that she is “booked for maternity”) and then it transpires that she either is mistaken or loses the baby. Miriam seems to become disillusioned with Hypo and makes a kind of break with him, viewing him more cynically than she has in the past. She introduces Michael Shatov to Amabel, possibly as a kind of match-making process (I can’t help wondering if this is an event that will have future implications?)

As well as drawing back from involvement with Hypo, Miriam begins to distance herself a little from Amabel and regard her more critically. Amabel has thrown herself into the suffragist movement, marching with them and being arrested. Miriam is not prepared to commit to that kind of action, preferring instead to continue her association with the Lycurgans. She visits Amabel in prison, but recognises that the latter is acting and posing all the time; and Miriam is no longer charmed by her behaviour.

Closer to home, Miriam’s sister Sarah is ill; what kind of complaint is never specified but it is a serious one, and Miriam’s old flame Dr. Densley advises an operation which will kill or cure. The family is of course impoverished (lack of money is a recurring theme in the books) but Densley has managed to arrange treatment at a minimal cost. Densley has been one of the constants in Miriam’s life, and she (and we!) get to speculate what her life might have been like had she accepted his proposal.

However, Densley identifies that Miriam is run down (she’s been burning the candle at both ends as usual) and so he recommends a break. Fortunately, she has some money put aside and makes a decisive break, leaving everything behind – job/Hypo/friends – to go off we don’t know where for some kind of rest cure. She refers to this as a nervous breakdown but whether it actually is, like so much in these books, is ambiguous! So the book ends with Miriam on the verge of more changes, as she takes her leave of the dentists’ practice and particularly Mr. Hancock.


I was surprised initially at how positively I responded to “Clear Horizon”, particular as I know some other readers have struggled. As usual, the story is couched in her usual allusive, elusive style and there is some beautiful prose. Her use of language when Miriam is off on her mental flights of fancy is evocative, and it was wonderful seeing Miriam relish more than anything London and her solitude and freedom. These latter are vital to her wellbeing, and there is the sense that whatever sacrifices she’s made, she’s chosen the way of life that’s essential for her.

I actually ended up enjoying this book a lot more than I expected, immersing myself in Miriam’s world and the changes going on in her life. I think after the strictly masculinist outlook of Tolstoy I was in need of a strong female sensibility and Miriam, with her refusal to compromise and her relentless quest for her own space and independence, was a perfect read for me at this time. I feel that I tuned in to what Richardson was trying to do in her writing, and although there are the usual frustrations, nevertheless this was a very positive reading experience and I think I have the impetus now to push on to the two final books before too long!

December ramblings…


I can’t believe we’re coming to the end of 2016, but like many I won’t be sorry to see the back of this year – it’s been a difficult one all-round.


Reading-wise, I am behind (of course!) on the few limited challenges I hoped to take part in. Although I’ve reached the last volume of Dorothy Richardson’s Pilgrimage sequence, I still have a few titles to go. I’ve decided not to beat myself up about it – if I end up finishing it over Christmas, or it stretches into January, that’s fine. Any deadlines I set my reading are ultimately my own and I’m not going to stress about it.

One title I *do* intend to start very soon, however, is this one for the final part of HeavenAli’s wonderful Woolfalong:


I haven’t read “Jacob’s Room” for about 35 years, and my poor old copy is developing crumbly pages – so this lovely new edition, picked up recently in London, will be just the thing.

Apart from that, I’m trying not to plan too much for December’s reading. I have a couple of lovely British Library Crime Classics lined up, plus a wonderful sounding collection of funny ghost stories from Jerome K. Jerome – just right for the cold dark nights! 🙂

The aftermath of Switzerland


Dawn’s Left Hand by Dorothy Richardson

It doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to realise that I have slipped just a little behind with my read of Dorothy Richardson’s “Pilgrimage” sequence of novels. I seem to be struggling to fit in reading at the moment, in the aftermath of the intensity of the 1947 Club; however, the recent excellent BBC4 Virago documentary spurred me on to pick up volume 4 recently and tackle the next book in the sequence – “Dawn’s Left Hand”.


The book picks up pretty much where the previous one had left off, with Miriam travelling home from Oberland. She seems to be finding leaving Switzerland a wrench, and in fact the place and its effects permeate much of the early section of the book. As usual, Miriam finds it hard to relate to fellow travellers en route, but is often too kind to shun them.

Back in her familiar London she takes up her old life, in more ways than one. Early in the book she visits an old acquaintance, Dr. Densley, an old beau who seems to still hanker after Miriam. She’s still working at the dentist practice, and she makes a break with Selina, her co-tenant, to return to her old boarding house. The relationship between the two women, always vaguely defined at best, seems to have completely broken down and given the chance to up sticks Miriam takes it.

Into Miriam’s life comes a new friend in the form of a French woman, Amabel, who develops quite a passion for our heroine. They meet at Miriam’s club and it is clear that she is still mixing with the Lycurgans. However, Miriam is distracted by her affair with Hypo, which appears to come to some kind of fruition, resulting oddly enough in a gulf seeming to develop between her and the Wilsons. The book ends on a strange note, with a meeting on the steps of Mrs. Bailey’s that may or may not be a major one – perhaps the next book will reveal all!

“Dawn’s Left Hand” is another short entry in the Pilgrimage sequence, and I wondered if it was almost too short to stand on its own and that maybe it would have been better attached to “Oberland” (or may “Clear Horizon”, which comes next, but that remains to be seen). Again, so much of the book is Miriam’s emotions and reactions to things, her contemplating the distance between men and women, and her relishing her solitude once more. As usual, Richardson does her trick of dropping huge events (deaths, dramatic adventures of relatives) into the narrative as passing comments, so as to retain the focus on the narrator’s state of mind. We are treated to Miriam dipping into the first person now and then, and the affair with Hypo is so discreetly written that if you didn’t read carefully you might miss it. Miriam in many ways seems torn between Hypo and Amabel, and I presume the latter was based on her friend Veronica.

I wondered a little about the title and when I did some research online, came up with this quote from Omar Khayyam (translated by Edward Fitzgerald):

Dreaming when Dawn’s Left Hand was in the sky
I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry
‘Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup
Before Life’s Liquor in its Cup be dry

It made me think if this was a little reference to Miriam deciding to take life on and embark on the affair with Hypo before she became older and love might pass her by – certainly, as I may have said before, there is the risk with her rigidity that she cuts herself off slightly from human interaction and the sacrifice that entails and it will be intriguing to see where the story goes next.

As always, the descriptions of London were lovely and atmospheric, and I enjoyed much of the time I spent in Miriam’s company. However, I got the feeling this was something of a bridging book, taking Miriam into a new phase of her life with the Hypo affair and the introduction of Amabel. I’ll be interested to see where the story takes me next!

All Virago/All August – Catching up with Dorothy!


Behind her closed door she stood alone.

I have indeed let my reading of Dorothy Richardson’s great series of books, “Pilgrimage”, slip behind a little and I need to catch up with June’s book (“Revolving Lights”), July’s book (“The Trap”) and also that for the current month (“Oberland”). I have finally found the time and space to read them, so I thought I would do a composite type of post, covering them all!

Revolving Lights

revolving lights

“Revolving Lights” opens with a long stream-of-consciousness chapter with Miriam mixing with Mr. Leyton’s female cousins, debating with herself deeply about her relationship with Michael Shatov. She’s acutely conscious of the differences of attitude between men and women, and frustrated by his inability to understand the problems they would face if they married. Despite meeting a Russian couple, the Lintoffs, who have a ‘mixed marriage’, Miriam is still unconvinced and makes the break with Michael – her need to be alone is one of the strongest things in her psyche. There is a weight lifted from her by this break, but she’s exhausted and goes to spend a month with the Wilsons in the country. Here, she mixes with literary types, particularly Edna Prout, and grows closer to Hypo – interestingly enough, she seems to be developing a writing career of sorts, writing reviews. The book ends on a further note of change, with her dentist boss Mr. Hancock going it alone and taking Miriam with him.

The Trap

pilg 3

“The Trap” heralds more changes, as it opens with Miriam moving to new lodgings, sharing with a Miss Holland. In the same area of London, it appears, the rooms are not particularly inspiring and involve actually sharing a bedroom, with a curtain down the middle – not something I’d expect Miriam to be particularly keen on, as she likes her own space, but she appears cheerful enough about it. It’s not clear straight away why she’s made the move, though a later sentence would suggest for reasons of economy – but then there is always much that isn’t clear with Richardson. So Miriam settles in, attend Lycurgan meetings and dances, socialises with Miss Holland and Dr. Densley (is he a suitor as well as  her doctor?), copes with exhaustion and takes great joy in being a member of a women’s club. Michael Shatov makes fleeting appearances, as does the poet Yeats (who apparently lives just over the road!) and all the while Miriam continues her interior dialogue with herself. Densley is of the opinion that her exhaustion could be cured by marriage and settling down, which Miriam dismisses. However, there is a sense that she’s becoming set in her ways and certainly her outlook is often inflexible. Inevitably, there’s a falling out with Miss Holland and the book ends with the hint that Miriam may be moving on again.



“Oberland” brings a change of scene as it opens with Miriam setting off on for a holiday in Switzerland, a trip that had been mentioned in passing while she was at the Wilsons’ as her ideal visit. And here we see the real strength of Richardson’s writing as she captures brilliantly the feeling of travelling and the effect of the landscape on Miriam as she arrives in Oberland. Switzerland comes vividly arrive and Miriam obvious loves the place; she toboggans and walks in the mountains; makes tentative friends with other residents; and spends quite a lot of time attracting men! In fact, she’s something of a flirt, drawn to a brooding Italian whose views are very much opposite to hers, and also to a young American whose free and easy New World manners are more in touch with her personality. However, it does seem as if she’s toying with them a little, and there are hints of Hypo in back in London “waiting for her decision” – on what we don’t know, but presumably it will be a love affair of some sort.

Short enough to be classed as a novella, “Oberland” was probably the easiest of these three books to read – shorter chapter, shorter paragraphs, less inner musings and more outward looking. We still experience Miriam’s way of thinking and her view of the world, but in a form that’s easier for the reader to assimilate.


So, having read three Pilgrimage novels in quick succession, I’ve had a concentrated dose of Miriam and I have to say that it did cross my mind that she’s a person who seriously overthinks things! Accepting that we all have random thought processes, constantly picking up subtleties around us and analysing motives and the like, Miriam takes this to an extreme degree, so much so that I did wonder how much it was interfering with her life. However, putting this aside, there are great riches to be found in the books.

For a start, some passages are quite beautiful, and in particular Richardson vividly brings alive the summer stay at the Wilsons. The landscape and the garden and the sleeping out on a summer night are wonderfully painted scenes, with Miriam contemplating the large things of life. And as always, Miriam/Richardson celebrates London and the life there in some wonderful sequences – Miriam’s refuge is often the streets of the capital, where she is at home and very much at one with herself. Switzerland too had a strong presence and Miriam always responds to landscape.

Dorothy Richardson in 1932

Dorothy Richardson in 1932

Bizarrely, in places Richardson starts to switch from the third person to the first person, and towards the end of “The Trap” a whole sequence is done in first person – which rather unsettles the reader. Another oddity is her constant way of dropping important bombshells into the narrative as passing comments; I’m thinking of one particular huge life-changing event in “The Trap” which happens so much in metaphorical parenthesis that you might actually miss it… There are also the ongoing frustrations of references to past events we know nothing about – for example, as Liz pointed out, the mention of Miriam having spent time with cousins in Cambridge is the first we hear of it, and this kind of sudden detail can be disconcerting.

On a slightly negative point, I found the constant emphasis on race in the first of these three books a little frustrating. I suppose that nowadays we’re used to people of all races and faiths and creeds marrying without a second thought, but Richardson seems to define, and often condemn, people, particularly ones of Jewish origin, because of that heritage. Granted that it’s a way of life and belief that is alien to her, nevertheless I felt slightly uncomfortable with her categorisations here. And in “Oberland” in particular, her consciousness of class differences comes to the fore. I ended up perceiving a real danger that Miriam’s outlook and character can be too rigid – she obviously is looking for a life companion of some kind, or else why would she spend so much time pursuing the various menfolk, but any relationship has to completely on her terms. There is no room for any kind of compromise in her outlook and that could well have a detrimental effect on her life long-term.

So a fascinating series of three books – and I’m keen to see where Miriam’s journey takes her next, as “The Trap” ended on a note of ambiguity as far as her future sharing digs with Miss Holland is concerned. I’m glad I used All Virago/All August to catch up, and as the final four volumes are really quite short, hopefully I’ll have no problem completing this challenge…

(Liz’s review of “Oberland” is here and you can find the rest of her reviews on her blog too)

Reading “Pilgrimage” : An Update


June is the month when I’ve been supposed to be reading the next book in Dorothy Richardson’s “Pilgrimage” – “Revolving Lights”. However, I confess I’ve got a bit behind and in all honesty I shan’t finish it this month so the review will follow in July.


There are a couple of reasons for the hiccup: firstly, I spent a *looong* time reading a review book “The Glory of the Empire” from NYRB and so got quite behind; and secondly, “Revolving Lights” itself. Having glided through the last Richardson, this one is proving much harder – the opening chapter is an enormous stream of consciousness one, where you have to guess who’s talking about who and what most of the time and it isn’t an easy read. I’m not going to beat myself up and force myself to read it quickly just to meet a deadline – I’ll probably do as others on the Virago group are doing and space it out a bit it a time while reading something else. Much as I admire Richardson’s work, at the end of the day writing a book is about communicating *something* and there are times I wish she’d made things a little easier for the reader….

Men are from Mars…


Deadlock by Dorothy Richardson

My reading of Dorothy Richardson’s “Pilgrimage” series continues with the first book in volume 3, “Deadlock”, and I’ve just managed to squeeze it in before the end of the month! To be honest, I struggled a little with the last book and so I was vaguely apprehensive about picking up this one; however, I found no problems with it and loved it, so it just goes to show that attitude of mind may have something to do with your appreciation of a book!

pilgrimage 3

In “Deadlock”, Miriam is still living in Mrs. Bailey’s lodging house and working at the dentists’ practice, and the book opens with a comet visible over London – maybe Halley’s comet, from 1910? However, the focus in this book will not be on either of the usual aspects of her life (although they’ll feature) but on the coming of a new element into Miriam’s world – that of love. Mrs. Bailey has a new lodger, the Russian Mr. Shatov, and Miriam is introduced to him as being someone who can help him with his English. The two seem to develop an immediate rapport; they’re able to discuss philosophy and novels and the deeper things with no problem, and it may be that because Shatov is not English the two can develop an intellectual relationship in a way Miriam couldn’t with a traditional English man. They visit the British Museum to enrol him; walk, talk and have meals together; and Shatov is jealous when Miriam is embroiled in another lodger’s attempt to prepare a lecture on Spanish Literature. The book is not all about Miriam and Shatov though; she visits her sisters, now living in a seaside town where Eve has struck out on her own and is running a shop; and Harriett and Gerald are running a boarding house. In one brilliant sentence, Miriam reveals that the latter’s marriage has foundered, with the pair staying together for the sake of their child; and Eve’s situation is seen as no better, with Miriam considering her as playing at being independent, rather than really succeeding in this.


Through all, of course, runs Miriam’s great love of London, the backdrop for her life. She visits lectures, walks the streets and revels in her independence. As her friendship with Shatov deepens (and he becomes Michael instead of simply Mr. Shatov) it also becomes more complex; when he declares his love for her and she reciprocates, despite her happiness she perceives problems. Michael Shatov is a Russian Jew, and that in itself is not a problem; what *is* a problem are his attitudes towards women, which despite his respect for her intellect, he can’t help but display. Things are thrown sharply into focus with a discussion as to whether women should be satisfied being wife and mother, which Miriam obviously cannot accept, and the reader is left feeling that the relationship is alas doomed.

“Deadlock” was absolutely fascinating to read, and I realised even more so with this book how Richardson is choosing to allow us sight of the parts of Miriam’s life she wants us to see. For example, at one point Miriam translates some Russian stories from German to English and shows them to an unnamed *him*, receiving a disparaging comment about the content (though not her translation). It is only clear from the mention in this section of Alma that this must be Hypo Wilson and so obviously Miriam has kept up contact with them – not that we would know this from anywhere else in the story! A lot of what we learn about Miriam’s life almost takes place in parenthesis – for example, when she tells Michael at length about a cycling accident she had. The dentists’ practice features more as an irritant than anything else, almost a dead-end with no prospects of any change, and at one point Miriam is sacked (though I think reinstated!) for expressing displeasure at her employment terms! This is particularly interesting, as the dialogue that follows hints that her employers have seen her as more of a part of their extended family, and the lines have been blurred between employee and friend, which she may have misunderstood. Miriam’s friends Mags and Jan appear in passing, and it seems that normal life for Miriam goes on as usual, with Richardson simply pointing her magnifying glass at the parts of her story concerning Michael Shatov as that is her focus in this book.

london 1910

Much of the book is a dialogue between the opposing viewpoints of Miriam and Shatov, and although she’s maturing she still seems unworldly in many ways; at one point, as Miriam is about to leave for a day with the Brooms, Shatov reveals rather obliquely some hinted-at past indiscretion (presumably previous lovers?) This throws Miriam into a terrible tizz for the day, but from the reader’s point of view it would be unrealistic of her to expect a worldly, well-travelled Russian of that period to have had no liaisons. But their intellectual exchanges are fascinating, and of course I found Shatov’s championing of his Russian authors (‘Tolstoi’ and ‘Turgayneff!’!) irresistible. It seems that the two may have gone as far as an engagement, as Miriam visits a woman who has married someone Jewish to gain insight into the attitudes she might encounter; a visit that is in many ways anticlimactic, though it does serve to reinforce the limitations of Miriam’s mindset.

Richardson really hit a kind of peak with this book, exploring so well, as it does, the differences between men and women and their attitudes. Despite Shatov declaring himself a feminist, at the end of the day he will fall into the expected patterns of his caste and would want Miriam as a wife and mother. Miriam would be unable to accept that traditional role and so although there is a meeting of minds, it is unlikely to enable a lasting union. “Deadlock” is an excellent addition to the Pilgrimage sequence, and I’m actually very keen to hit the next book soon to see how Richardson resolves the relationship between Miriam and Michael.

(For other views, Liz’s review is here.)

Differing Standards


Interim by Dorothy Richardson

Volume 2 of Pilgrimage is made up of two books – the first, longer “The Tunnel”, which I reviewed here, is followed by the shorter “Interim” and finishing this means I’m now halfway through my read of this epic modernist sequence of novels.

pilg 2

“Interim” takes up where the previous story left off – well, sort of. Miriam is still living in her garret but the start of the book finds her spending Christmas with the Broom family. As always, she struggles in situations which require her to deal with people – she’s always so much more comfortable on her own, and at the Brooms’ she find it hard to strike the right note. She’s also very aware of the subtleties of class, wondering why some should serve on others and not knowing quite how to address the maidservant.

Much of Miriam’s life continues in the same vein as “The Tunnel” – she works at the dentists, attends lectures and concerts, visits her friends Mags and Jan, and revels in a new bicycle. But it is the focus here that is different, which reminds the reader again of how we are seeing things filtered through Miriam’s eye. “Interim” is very much about her life in Mrs.Bailey’s lodging house, her interaction with the various lodgers and about how she not only misjudges social situations, but also how she is judged by men because of her behaviour. And despite the fact that sister Eve has left her governess post and moved to London to work in a flower shop, she makes only a fleeting appearance in the book.


Miriam’s accommodation has changed since Mrs. Bailey started providing meals for her boarders, and Miriam is gradually drawn into the more social side of the house (and also the occasional meal, finally stemming her constant hunger!). There are a number of characters living there, mainly men, and Miriam is able to hold her own in discussions. They seem to be mainly Canadian doctors, and one in particular, de Vere, is very taken with Miriam. However, her friendship with Mr. Mendizabal, a Spanish Jew, is misunderstood; the simple act of spending time with him causes the doctors concern, particularly when he boasts about his influence over her. Instead of asking Miriam’s opinion, they jump to stupid conclusions and de Vere draws away from her. Most of the Canadians return to their home country, and it seems that Miriam has lost the chance of finding someone who loves her.

All of this might seem a little prosaic were it not for Richardson’s extraordinary ability to capture Miriam’s thoughts and emotions; in fact, the whole human condition as we stumble through life attempting to relate to, and understand, each other and very often failing miserably. Richardson’s prose does bring the complexities of life into sharp focus, but it creates complexities of its own; and there are sections of stream-of-consciousness here where it is very hard to know quite what is happening and who is thinking/saying what. The book ends with the somewhat odd re-appearance of Miss Dear, who seems to stay for a short while with Miriam, causes disruption in the Bailey house, and then leaves. The whole thing feels a little abrupt and rushed, and bearing in mind the shortness of the book I did wish that if Richardson was going to introduce this element, she’d done more with it.

Occasional confusion is an occupational hazard of reading Richardson, and I can understand that it makes her a writer not for all. Woolf, for example, seems more structured and her presentation of the randomness of thought processes is still comprehensible. Despite that, I’m still enjoying my reading of Richardson very much and I’ve learned to let the parts that don’t make total sense slide past me, because the majority of this wonderful work is quite spellbinding – and I’m looking forward to the next volume!

(Jane at Beyond Eden Rock, who’s responsible for motivating this read, has done an excellent review of the book here and Liz has a review here)

Light at the end?


The Tunnel by Dorothy Richardson

Starting the second volume of Dorothy Richardson’s classic modernist work Pilgrimage was a little daunting, as this particular book only contains two titles – “The Tunnel”, the longest in the sequence so far, and “Interim”, a much shorted work. I was slightly apprehensive about how I would deal with the longer one, but pushed on nevertheless.

pilg 2

“The Tunnel” finds Miriam Henderson in a new phase of her life; having taken a room in London in the Euston area, she’s found employment in a dental practice in Wimpole Street. We later find out that this was obtained through a family connection, and indeed the practice is more like a little family. There are Mr. and Mrs. Orly; their son Mr. Leyton; and Mr. Hancock, for whom Miriam seems to do most of her work. All three dentists have very different styles of working, and Miriam has to undertake a bewildering array of duties: book-keeping, handwritten correspondence, preparing materials for the surgery, cleaning and sterilising instruments – I’m not sure she’d be allowed to do all that in a modern surgery! But despite the nagging feelings of inadequacy and of always being behind with her work, she enjoys the place. In particular, she holds Mr. Hancock in high regard, lauding his dental skills.

Outside of work, her great joy is in being in London and being free. She visits friends Mags and Jan; eats a meagre meal at an ABC cafe (money is always a problem); visits Harriett, now expecting her first child; and the world opens up to her a bit more as Mr. Hancock takes her to some free lectures, expanding her mind and her thoughts even more. All this we see, of course, through Miriam’s mind, with all its randomness, stream of consciousness and digressions, and this can sometimes be a little hard to follow. Nevertheless, what builds up is a rich, nuanced image of a life being lived; striking out on her own, Miriam still experiences highs and lows, but as long as she has her little room and London, she seems to cope.

Things are not always as straightforward as she would like, however. Despite her wish to be a modern, independent woman, she is still judged by others; and there is a fascinating sequence revealing the fact that her visiting lectures with Mr. Hancock unchaperoned is considered shocking by his visiting relatives. And she still experiences social difficulties and finds herself sucked into uncomfortable situations because of a kind heart. As the story progresses, Miriam’s sister Eve suffers some kind of nervous breakdown, and while convalescing she comes across Miss Dear, a nurse, and Miriam is draw into the latter’s circle. Miss Dear is a quietly demanding person; initially seeming vulnerable and in need of help, Miriam finds herself visiting regularly, reading to her while she’s ill and raging inwardly at the invasion of her private space and time. Yet Miss Dear is revealed as a complex and quite manipulative person, misleading and making use of others. However, Richardson is never really judgemental, recognising the difficult position women often found themselves in, either having to look for a man to be a ‘protector’ in real and financial terms, or trying to make a living in a man’s world. Miriam herself earns little and seems to be permanently hungry, a theme reiterated through the book.

Important events take place in the tunnel, not least the meeting between Miriam and Hypo Wilson (a portrait of H.G. Wells), when Miriam visits them Wilsons in the country. Hypo has married an old school friend of Miriam’s (although friend seems perhaps a slightly strong word here, as the relationship doesn’t appear to be particularly close); and through this connection Miriam is drawn into a world of writers and books, expanding her horizons even more. No doubt the Wilsons will recur in later books!

Rational dress

And of course there are bicycles! The liberating effect of cycling for women really can’t be underestimated. At the time, women were burdened with heavy clothing, dependent on walking or buses or trains to get anywhere, and when the craze for cycling took off it had a knock-on effect. The Rational Dress Movement, which had general links to other emancipation elements, opposed the ridiculous kind of clothing worn at the time, and encouraged the wearing of a kind of baggy trousers which would be more suitable for a cycle. Certainly, Miriam and her friends are known to sneak out in their knickerbockers for exhilarating cycling jaunts, and at one point in the book Miriam makes a long journey on two wheels to Marlborough!

The book ends with changes coming at Miriam’s lodgings. Mrs. Bailey, the landlady, is going to turn it into a boarding house rather than rented rooms (I’m not quite sure of the distinction here!) but Miriam is welcome to stay. Miss Dear has plans for the future which have been deviously made, and the future is still ambiguous for Miriam. I can’t wait to see where she goes next!

Despite the occasional opacity of the narrative, once I got going with “The Tunnel” I found it hard to put down. I remembered Miriam’s work in the dental practice and the bike riding from my first read, and Richardson’s prose creates such wonderfully vivid images – a few lines about Mr. Leyton, for example, conjures him up brilliantly!

The clattering of boots on the stone stairs was followed by the rattling of the loose door knob and the splitting open of the door. Mr. Leyton shot into the room, searching the party with a swift glance and taking his place in the circle in a state of headlong silent volubility. By the way he attacked his lunch it was clear he had a patient waiting or imminent.

Once again, Richardson succeeds in bringing to life how it was to be a woman in the early party of the 20th century; the obstacles and the difficulties; the joy of new discoveries; and the strength it took to forge an independent path. Roll on the next book! 🙂


(As an aside, I should note that I was rather ironically suffering with an abscess and root canal treatment while I was reading “The Tunnel” – and I *so* appreciate the advances in modern dentistry…..!)

Life at the edge of things


Backwater by Dorothy Richardson

And so I reach book two of Richardson’s wonderful”Pilgrimage” series, and I was even keener to read this after enjoying Louisa Treger’s excellent book “The Lodger” earlier this month.

pilgrimage 1

“Backwater” picks up Miriam’s story after her return from Germany. Against an increasingly dysfunctional family background, Miriam takes employment as a teacher at a North London school run by the Misses Perne, presumably the backwater of the title. It’s a milieu in which she feels less than comfortable, constantly comparing the ‘hardness’ of the people in that area with those from her part of the city; and indeed the book has chapters of contrast, with Miriam some of time being at the school teaching, and at other times with her family during holidays.

Change is coming to the Henderson family: sister Eve is a live-in governess; Harriett is engaged to be married; quiet Sarah is still living at home. We see the girls against the backdrop of a dance they hold, where despite Miriam’s intentions to spend the night dancing with Ted (who seems to be her current beau), she instead spends much of the evening in the company of his visiting friend Max.

Back at the school, Miriam is struggling to deal with the divide between the two kinds of life, feeling a kind of alienation as she loses touch with her family during the teaching months. She is aware of the scraping, grinding poverty in the world, as people struggle to work and keep body and soul together, and this exists in both halves of her life. Literature becomes a crutch, and a way of escape, with her discovery of a lending library and the books of Ouida being particularly pivotal.

Ouida, Ouida, she would muse with the book in her hand. I want bad things – strong bad things… It doesn’t matter, Italy, the sky, bright hot landscapes, things happening. I don’t care what people think or say. I am older than anyone here in this house. I am myself.

As the book progresses, the girls have a last holiday together in Brighton, where Miriam meets another man who is interested in her, Mr. Parrow; and there is a sense that things are ending, as their mother has had an operation and their old house is having to be sold.


We learn, almost in passing, of the fate of Max. It becomes clear that Miriam will not be able to stand teaching at the Pernes’ for very long, as the stifling atmosphere and the religious convictions of the ladies are too much in conflict with her own intransigent nature. The book ends with Miriam preparing to take another decisive step as her family fragments.

Once again, the events of the book are filtered through Miriam’s perceptions, and the reader comes to realise quite what a sheltered life she’s led; which may, in fact, account for her difficulties in relating to people. Watching her having new experiences and revelations – such as smoking her first cigarette and reading her first newspaper – are fascinating; in particular the latter, when she comes to understand how women are discouraged from reading papers and kept from a wider knowledge of how the world works.

It’s also interesting to note how Miriam has no real self-awareness, no understanding of how she appears to others or affects them – a trait that was evident in the first book. She epitomises the human condition of trying to relate to other and failing, often not picking up the signals from others accurately and not realising how her behaviour will appear.

A lovely picture apparently of DR I found online but with absolutely no information about it!

A lovely picture apparently of DR I found online but with absolutely no information about it!

As in “Pointed Roofs”, Dorothy Richardson’s writing is quite wonderful. The stream-of-consciousness technique takes you right inside Miriam’s head and gives a remarkable immediacy to the narrative. Reading this, you experience the events, thoughts and emotions alongside Miriam in a way that wouldn’t be possible with a straightforward third-person omniscient narrator (or even, indeed, with a ‘normal’ first person narrative). Emotions, images and sensations are filtered through her consciousness so that in many ways you become Miriam and share her life. A wonderful achievement, and I can’t wait for volume 3!

Re-reading Dorothy Richardson – some thoughts…


2015 seems to have been very much the year of novelist Dorothy Richardson. Author of the pioneering sequence of novels known as “Pilgrimage, and an often unacknowledged early instigator of the stream of consciousness technique, Richardson has long been beloved of readers of modernist feminist literature and lauded amongst those circles. These year has seen her finally getting her due for the innovatory techniques and general genius of her writing, culminating in a high-profile novel of her life, “The Lodger” by Louisa Treger.


Dorothy Richardson by Man Ray

So when the lovely Jane at Beyond Eden rock mentioned on the LibraryThing Virago group that she planned to read the sequence, one a month over the next 13 months, and that anyone was free to join in what was a relaxed and low-key readalong., I jumped at the chance

It’s a long, long time since I read the whole sequence – I still have my lovely Virago set from the 1980s – but Richardson has been coming back onto my radar for a while. In fact, Middle Child’s dissertation a few years ago featured comparisons of Richardson and Woolf, and at the time I bought her a complete set of the Virago volumes (which I hope she’ll hold onto, as they’re hard to find now and very lovely).

Richardson was a fascinating woman; born in 1873, her early years were characterised by a close family life somewhat blighted because of her father’s financial problems. She worked as a Governess and teacher, initially in Germany, but later had to give this up to look after her mother. The latter suffered from severe depression and eventually committed suicide. Richardson later worked for a dental surgery, and then began to associate with other writers including Wells and the Bloomsbury group. Fascinatingly, she had a brief affair with Wells, which was followed by a miscarriage, and Richardson never appears to have had children. Her writing career took off in the 1900s and “Pointed Roofs” was published in 1915. In 1917 she married the artist Alan Odle, a somewhat unusual figure who was 15 years her junior and they lived in London and Cornwall for most of the rest of their lives. Odle died in 1948 and Richardson in 1957.

Dorothy Richardson and Alan Odle

Dorothy Richardson and Alan Odle

You might be forgiven for thinking, from all the hoo ha online, that nobody had even thought about Dorothy Richardson during the previous few decade, but that’s far from true. Virago’s sterling work in reissuing the series shouldn’t go unnoticed, particularly as they collected together the final volumes in the sequence for the first time, and the books were one of their flagship publications in the early years of VMCs. However, there were people striving for recognition of her work before that – for example, I recently tracked down a 1973 book “Dorothy Richardson: The Genius They Forgot” by John D. Rosenberg, and a quick look at her Wikipedia entry reveals numerous critical studies.

So although Dorothy Richardson might seem to be an author who’s ripe for rediscovery, some of us have been aware of her for a long time! I’m particularly keen to read “The Lodger” and author Louisa Treger has been kind enough to provide a beautiful review copy. So there’s never been a better time to re-read Dorothy Richardson, and if she’s new to you do join in – the “Pilgrimage” books are a wonderful experience which will stay with you!

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