The ultimate dower house issue: The Spoils of Poynton

 

The Spoils of Poynton by Henry James

published 1896/7

 

Fleda Vetch. How would you picture this character?

In a Patricia Wentworth book she would be one of those minxy girls with dark hair, flashing eyes, bright red nails and a talent for stealing other girls’ boyfriends.

In an Angela Brazil school story she would be the Sneak of the Fourth Form.

In Henry James she is a splendid heroine. Where DID he get that name from? I once wrote a whole article for the Guardian about what I considered to be poor name choices for fictional characters,

Guardian Books Blog: Complaints about Characters' Names

and I am sorry I did not include her. (Even Veda Fletch would be better)

Wherever it cam from: in The Spoils of Poynton she is a great friend of the much older Mrs Gereth, who is recently widowed and has to give up her home to her son.

We looked at Dower Houses recently,

Do you even know what a Dower House is?

and I mentioned this book, which contains an archetypal version. I reported then that Mrs Gereth's son says this about  her new home:

It wasn’t a place like Poynton — what dower-house ever was? — but it was an awfully jolly little place.

Yeah, right, trouble coming.

Mrs G and her husband spent their married lives collecting wonderful works of art from all over Europe, and placing them perfectly in their beautiful house. Everything there is the best of its kind, and arranged  in the correct places.

Now she has to leave, and she wants to take the goodies with her: partly because her son Owen is going to marry a young woman called Mona. Mrs G thinks Mona is awful, coarse, vulgar, has no taste, will have no appreciation of the beauty of Poynton, and so does not deserve to live there.

[very slight spoilers to follow, about the progress of the plot, though no final outcomes]

There is no element of compromise in all this. Mrs G does not want to just choose a few things: she wants everything (the comparative sizes of the two houses are hard to imagine – how would they fit?). Mona shows appreciation of nothing but monetary value, and tells her fiancé that he must stand firm and let nothing leave the house.

Fleda is used as a go-between in these entrenched positions, with the highly predictable extra possibility that maybe she will fall in love with Owen and he with her.

Mrs G would be delighted if Owen married Fleda, and would be happy for the good things,The Spoils, to stay under Fleda’s guardianship.

Well! This is quite the setup, and I was riveted. I read the book many years ago (and btw you will see it referred to as a novella, but it is not, it is a full-scale  book, on the short side but still a novel: modern versions run to 166 pp, whereas my old edition had more than 300pp). I had a vague memory of how it would go, but not enough to spoiler it, and I was breathless with interest and excitement as the events unfolded. I was reading it at the same time as a classic Golden Age murder story, and Poynton was far more compelling and unputdownable. I cared much less who did the murder than who was going to get the artworks.

Incidentally Mrs Gereth has a first name, Adela, but that is revealed early in the book and never used again by anyone. (Same name as a Dower House widow in a Charlotte M Yonge book, see earlier post)

The Spoils of Poynton was very thought-provoking: Mrs Gereth is wholly unreasonable in one way, and there is some idea that the house is a family property, everything must stay together. But, she chose the items, did the research, went collecting with her husband, does she really have no  moral or legal right to anything?

And what about the characters of the other players? Owen, dismissed by his mother as stupid, is far from that. Mona is something of a blank. Fleda you feel shouldn’t have been quite so Henry James-ian, she would have got on better. It’s a book that for sure stays in the mind and gives you to think.

And as ever, James can surprise you by being funny. When Mrs G has taken precipitate and illicit action, there is a visitor, who turns out to be her son to her surprise:

“I expected on the whole a solicitor’s clerk.”

 Fleda didn’t mention that she  herself had expected on the whole a pair of constables.

And bizarre descriptions of falling in love, in this case what in a lesser author would be seen as very mixed metaphors indeed:

With the click of a spring, he saw. He had cleared the high wall at a bound; they were together without a veil. She had not a shred of a secret left; it was as if a whirlwind had come and gone, laying low the  great false front that she had built up stone by  stone.

*** see also below

Edith Wharton (a great friend of Henry James) said in her memoir A Backward Glance that she had once, at dinner, met an interesting man who had turned out to be Harry Cust, a well-known man of letters and man about town of the day. They had a discussion about:

the most famous kisses in literature, and [I produced] as my crowning effect, and to my neighbour’s great admiration, the kiss on the stairs in "The Spoils of Poynton” (which I have always thought one of the most moving love-scenes in fiction)…

 

There are claims that Wharton got it wrong, because it isn’t a kiss in the usual sense of the word. But please read this:

“You mustn't break faith. Anything is better than that. You must at any rate be utterly sure. She must love you — how can she help it ? I wouldn’t give you up ! ” said Fleda. She spoke in broken bits, panting out her words.  “The great thing is to keep faith. Where is a man if he doesn’t? If he doesn’t he may be so cruel. So cruel, so cruel, so cruel!” Fleda repeated. “I couldn’t have a hand in that, you know : that’s my position— that’s mine. You offered her marriage: it’s a tremendous thing for her.” Then looking at him another moment, “I wouldn’t give you up!” she said again. He still had hold of her arm; she took in his blank alarm.

With a quick dip of her face she reached his hand with her lips, pressing them to the back of it with a force that doubled the force of her words. ‘Never,  never, never!” she cried; and before he could  succeed in seizing her she had turned and, scrambling up the stairs, got away from him…

Can anyone say that that is not the most wonderful romantic scene, with its own style of kiss?

A truly enjoyable book, on many levels.

Fashions from the 1890s: they truly looked like James women: you can assign them to Fleda, Mrs Gereth, Mona and her mother, as you choose… Though I am clear which one I think is Mona.

American fashion plates - NYPL Digital Collections

 

****  I noticed this (strange descriptions of emotional moments) about the author years ago - in a very early post on The Wings of The Dove by Henry James 

Pearls and Lace and Doves - "I see myself"

I said this:

here is a description of the first meeting of Kate Croy and Merton Densher:

She had observed a ladder against a garden-wall and had trusted herself so to climb it as to be able to see over into the probable garden on the other side. On reaching the top she had found herself face to face with a gentleman engaged in a like calculation at the same moment, and the two enquirers had remained confronted on their ladders.

The couple have already been shown to be meeting in gardens all the time, so this reader, at least, had to go over this several times to check it was actually symbolic (and an arresting image all the same).