Miss Marjoribanks, by Mrs Oliphant (1865-66)

 

Margaret Oliphant: a photograph from 1860 (public domain

My first impression was how accomplished a writer Mrs Oliphant is. Highly complex sentences, very precisely described scenes; but further reading suggests there might not be much behind the artful syntax.

What people will say about the book today is that it is by a woman writer and features a largely female cast. Lucilla has the ability to twist all the males she meets around her little finger; she is certainly the most dominant character. At the same time, you could reduce the plot to one sentence: which man will Lucilla choose to marry? After all her efforts to become the centre of the social universe of the small town of Carlingford, it appears she will dutifully take her place as a second-rank citizen. There are vague references to good work that she will do after her wedding, but it is acknowledged that the married state is the only truly desirable outcome.

The lack of characterisation for the two main male characters is astonishing. We know nothing about Mr Cavendish or Mr Arbuthnot, the two prospective suitors, nor of Tom, her cousin. Very strangely, he is dismissed at the start of the book as hopelessly uncoordinated and incompetent, yet at the end he is, remarkably, the most suitable choice of husband – an immense about-turn that is never satisfactorily explained.

One of the major characters is an archdeacon, but his speech and manner suggest anything but a clerical background. Perhaps he is an imposter – he does not appear to wear a dog collar, but a shirt and tie. When confronted for details of his dealings with Mrs Mortimer, he shows anything but Christian charity. Yet a few pages later, he is dutifully lined up to marry her. As for Mr Cavendish, it is never quite clear what the nature of his “crime” was.

When I read the word “pre-Raphaelite”, I was impressed, but it would appear that Oliphant uses the word to mean any painter. There is similarly loose language with the terms “Broad Church” and “Low Church”. It’s clear they are used to distinguish social levels, which is fine, but the term Broad Church is used very frequently, without, I think, always being clear about what is implied.

Oliphant drags out the plot – many pages go by without any precision about what actually happened in the past. At the same time, some events happen so fast they are difficult to believe. The book is organised in two parts, separated by some ten years. The first (Iarger) part comprises Lucilla establishing her reputation, which seems to take place within a couple of years, making her no older than 19. During that time, she has been able to set up a school for the poor, with a school mistress, and a well-established garden, as well as being the major society hostess of the town.

There is a lot of repetition, not simply like Dickens as a kind of leitmotiv, but repeating details of story and attitude. It wouldn’t be difficult to cut 50+ pages and make the novel more powerful.

There is some resemblance to E F Benson: small town society and its controversies, determinedly removed from politics and current affairs, and of little interest to anyone outside the town. Unlike Benson, Oliphant has less humour, so the going it slow, at times, but the rise and rise of Lucilla, the doctor’s daughter, as she creates her salon, is enjoyable to follow.

Keeping out of politics by saying “he is the right man for Carlingford” makes it easier for the writer but convenient for the novelist – no need to take sides. If you believe Mrs Oliphant, the choice of MP was made without reference to any party politics.

 All in all, an interesting a readable novel, but not much of an assessment of the society around her, and a woeful plot.