George Gissing's greatest genius seems to lie in making something ordinary, mundane or even sordid a source of wonder and admiration. So in ‘The Unclassed’ we are thrown into two worlds and made to examine if in reality, they are not the same, and unclassifiable.
In today's world, it might seem incredible that a child is denied the right to an education because of her mother's profession, but so it was for Ida Starr, one of the three women in the book. Despite that, and the hard life she thereafter leads, she is drawn as a courageous, independent, and the strongest of the book’s characters; Gissing (and Ida Starr) make it clear, however, that it is her own disinclination for hard work and not lack of opportunity that draws her into prostitution.
Two other women offer a counterpoise to her: one is the unforgiving Harriet Casti, whose morbid jealousy and resentment prompt her to lay false charges against Ida for theft, as a result of which Ida is convicted, just as she is attempting to lead an “honest” life. The other is the saintly, perfect, almost inhuman Maud Enderby. All three women are interwoven in the lives of three men, Julian Casti, Harriet’s husband, Osmond Waymark the hero, and his employer, the tenement landlord, Mr Woodstock, for whom he collects the rents from people whose poverty and squalor can not even be imagined, much less described.
An advertisement has drawn Casti and Waymark together, for a kind of intellectual companionship, since both men have literary hopes and aspirations. Yet it is an unsatisfactory relationship, because it is so unequal. Waymark is a radical in his views, almost an atheist in religious beliefs, an aesthete, a cynic, a freethinker in emotional relationships and altogether too much of an iconoclast in comparison with the gentle, idealistic and rather innocent Casti. Still, it is Casti who honours a commitment made in boyhood and marries the unloveable Harriet.
(It is not quite clear why a man like Waymark should put in an advertisement for intellectual companionship, given his education, his job as a teacher, and his open, friendly nature and easy-going ways. Such an advertisement would likely repel rather than attract the kind of friendship Waymark was after, especially in an era when old school and college ties were the basis of friendships, and formal introductions were regarded as important, including by letter. In the event, he and Casti form a lasting bond, so all is well.)
Despite having the stronger personality, Waymark is curiously indecisive in respect of Maud Enderby and Ida Starr. Maud he admires so much that he finally proposes to her and is accepted. With Ida Starr, in whose company he feels entirely free from his philosophical thoughts and cynicism, he has a very comfortable friendship and is completely at ease. Only dramatic circumstances force Waymark into acknowledging the nature of his true feelings for Ida, but by then it is too late. He too faces the prospect of a life lived without joy, without passion, without love, like his friend Casti. And, it may be added, like Gissing himself in later life.
The novel explores the idea of sin and respectability in some detail, and it is no surprise to see that all the so-called respectable persons in the novel are as base as Ida is held to be. Woodstock turns out to be Ida’s grandfather, who threw her mother out on the streets. As a slum landlord, he cares little for the health and safety of his tenants. And yet, as the richest man of all, he commands respect from not just his tenants, but his business colleagues. Harriet Casti's middle class respectability is a veneer for the low life she leads, and while Maud is virtuous and pious, her mother is not. Maud's father is, in addition, an embezzler. Maud herself is obsessed with an almost Catholic notion of sin and sacrifice, amounting to a species of religious mania.
So, wonders an ailing Waymark as the book draws to a close, why do all these people – and himself – fail to accept Ida’s innate purity of heart and soul?
While not altogether representative of Gissing's great works, ‘The Unclassed' is a good introduction to Gissing's strengths in character and style. Gissing's plots are generally well structured and natural, but here it is uncharacteristic. For such a grounded realist as Gissing, the ending is drastic, unconvincing and weak. The whole novel paints the picture of a grim and bleak poverty-stricken life from which there is no real escape from degradation, even with the occasional powerful patron in the background. But Gissing gives Ida and Waymark (and the tenants of the slums which are now Ida’s property, she and her grandfather having reconciled shortly before his death) a very happy future. Perhaps the ending is not quite so happy for the Castis, or Maud, or Mr Woodstock. But this is not quite the Gissing of realism: something of the romantic still lingers here, and happy endings have their charm.