There is a fashion at the moment for "warts and all" biographies. The popular press delights in exposés of formerly much loved "celebrities". The more salacious the detail to be revealed, apparently, the better. And Charles Dickens would certainly fit into this group. Much loved? Certainly! Influential? Another decided Yes! But what of his private life. Does that bear scrutiny? And on that question there perhaps should be a meaningful pause.
Claire Tomalin says,
"The rewriting of history is a central theme in this whole story, since Nelly, too, almost succeeded in her attempt ... the problem arises in people's shifting view of morality: what constitutes innocence or guilt, what makes a man or woman good or bad, who is to blame when someone is shocked or outraged, or exposed."
It has never been a secret that Charles Dickens made his wife Catherine live apart from him, after bearing him 10 children, or that she was allowed no contact with 9 of these children. The general public were aware of this at the time. It is a matter of conjecture whether they idolised him so much that they went along with his fantasies about the justification for such actions, or whether they simply turned a blind eye. Clearly there must be a lot more behind such behaviour by an upstanding author, one with a great social conscience; one who tirelessly campaigned for better conditions for the poor and underprivileged. There must be a reason behind the paradox. Is it our place to investigate it?
Claire Tomalin is one of our finest literary biographers, having won many awards for her earlier works. She has written scholarly biographies of Mary Wollstonecraft, Thomas Hardy, Samuel Pepys and Jane Austen. The Invisible Woman from 1990 attracted my attention, partly because it would have information about my favourite author, Charles Dickens, partly because it was (misleadingly) marketed as a novel, and partly because it was by a writer whose earlier books I have enjoyed, and for whom I have the greatest respect. I wondered what a novel by her would be like. And I was also interested in the woman Nelly Ternan, of whom I, in common with many readers, only knew a few facts.
I knew that Dickens's private letters had been subjected to infra-red photographic analysis in the 1950s. Beneath the crossings-out, references to Ellen Ternan were discovered. Whether or not this might constitute an invasion of privacy, I was not especially worried that Claire Tomalin's book would be inappropriate, a grubby little piece. I knew better. And don't you find that knowing something of an author's life is sometimes enlightening? To know that they were imprisoned for their beliefs, or escaped an oppressive regime, or family? Simply to visit the country, area or even the house they lived in, can sometimes cast a new light on the preoccupations, thrust and whole timbre of their work. This is what I find. So I had great hopes that this book would be both an entertaining or absorbing read, and also may even help a little in understanding the enigma that is Charles Dickens. I am sorry to say, after this long preamble, that it did neither.
The point is surely that the book is misconceived. Claire Tomalin's book The Invisible Woman is a literary biography. But does it really qualify as this? In part it is about Charles Dickens's relationship with a young actress, Nelly Ternan. But is the focus on Dickens or Ternan? Decidedly the latter, in this book. So what is the "hook"? For what can be our reasons for reading about the (probable) mistress of a celebrated author, if they are not prurient, as we have begun to consider. Would we really be interested in Nelly on her own account, had she not been Dickens's mistress? It is extremely doubtful. Her acting career was very brief. In fact it came to an end at the age of 21, as her fortunes rose. By that time she owned a fine four-storey house near Mornington Crescent, very probably bought by Dickens.
So what we are left with is a biography of a Victorian woman, who had a relationship with a famous man, which both they, and others at the time and since, were desperate to conceal. It certainly is an incredible story, with a lifetime's work in the obsessive attention to detail. It is as scholarly as one would expect. Every single railway ticket or mention in a letter is credited in a footnote. If you are an historian, or love reading historical biographies, you may find this fascinating. But for a general reader, this attention the minutiae is simply ... dull, and perhaps doubly so for a Dickens enthusiast. For Dickens, whatever you think of him as a human being, knew how to entertain.
Invariably Dickens imparts his information in a humorous way. His myriad of minor characters pop in and out of his pages as bright stars, enchanting us with their colour and personality. In this biography there are an equal number of minor characters; the people Tomalin credits are equally great in number. Because of the sheer weight of evidence of items bought, homes established, and seemingly endless trips made here and there, the evidence is overwhelming. And we appear to have to read every single shred of it. Only in the final chapter, where Tomalin presents an alternative to what we think we know about Dickens's death, is there no hard evidence, except for circumstantial evidence (such as the exact amount of money in his pocket, differing from his earlier withdrawal at the bank, which implied that he had spent some of it.)
"Appearances had to be kept up",
could be a mantra for the entire book. The first part is from a sociological and historical point of view. It describes Nelly's antecedents in great detail, both their lives and their difficulties. Her grandmother, mother, father and sisters were all all very hard-working professional actors, serious about their careers, very badly paid and never considered respectable. The father disappears from the story quite soon, a victim of the Victorian catch-all for men, the so-called "General Paralysis of the Insane" or syphilis, affecting the brain, leading to him being committed to the Bethnal Green Insane Asylum, with his family not only having to paying the expenses, but also cover up the "dreadful and humiliating" fact.
Often actresses were mistaken for, or grouped with, prostitutes, because the theatre itself was disreputable. Tomalin describes the acting world, how difficult and hand-to-mouth an actor's life was, and how fundamentally it was looked down on by Victorian society. No respectable person would be involved with actors and actresses. Yet the alternative for females having to make their own way in society was either to marry money, or,
"the near-slavery of becoming a servant, seamstress or milliner."
Tomalin scrupulously describes the hypocrisy in society; how the values expressed were never a match for what was actually happening. She also makes it clear that an actress such as Ellen Terry was very much the exception, in making her name great, and almost achieving what everyone craved at that time - what was considered to be both critical and crucial - respectability.
By the end of this section, maybe a quarter through, Nelly is three years old. It was perhaps necessary to expound on the earlier history, the ideas and facts about society, so that we should not judge the "main characters", Charles Dickens and Nelly Ternan, too harshly in the light of subsequent events. For Nelly's life, and that of her immediate family is carefully chronicled from then on, despite the fact that Nelly did not actually met Charles Dickens until 1857 when she was 18.
At the time, Nelly and her family were performing in Dickens and Wilkie Collins's production of "The Frozen Deep", (which has since been all but forgotten). Charles Dickens, we know,
"grew up in poverty and with little education, loved the theatre passionately and cherished its reliance on imagination and spontaneity, allied to discipline and self-reliance."
He would thus greatly admire a family such as the Ternans. Yet Dickens was now 45, already the most celebrated writer in England, so the fact that he showed interest in the young actress must have seemed ... intriguing, providential, surprising ... who knows? Dickens was quite the dandy,
"he had rather more of the Regency buck in him and less of the Victorian paterfamilias than is usually believed."
What is clear is that Dickens's solicitous attention was flattering enough to Nelly to result in a secret love affair, one which lasted thirteen years, a time during which Dickens destroyed his marriage, cruelly rejected his wife, "brutally and publicly" as Tomalin says, and covered his tracks at every point he possibly could. He attempted to erase all trace of Nelly Ternan from the public record. And he very nearly managed to do so.
One diary, for 1867, escaped being destroyed, as it was in a stolen suitcase in America. It resurfaced in 1943. Nelly appears frequently in it, although she is never more than a letter "N". The diary reveals that at this time, Dickens was spending about a third of his free time with Nelly, and often lying to everyone else about his movements. Also his bank account shows regular payments to someone called "Miss Thomas". Some of his friends were in the know, despite Dickens's best efforts. William Thackeray heard the rumours of a possible liaison with his sister-in-law, but protested to his mother,
"No such thing - it's with an actress ... It's a fatal story for our trade."
In the famous train crash of 1865, at Staplehurst in Kent, Dickens heroically saved the lives of several passengers. Yet it was nearly his undoing, since Nelly and her mother had been accompanying him. Dickens tried to conceal their identity, but in trying to recover Nelly's jewellery he inevitably let slip some details.
Of course there are other instances too. The task of covering up for so many years must have been well nigh impossible. Some people did not burn the letters as Dickens had begged them to. Although he had various pseudonyms, such as "Tringham", even across the English Channel in France, Dickens's face was well known, and people remembered it. And there was a limit to how often he could protest that he was in one place, whilst dashing to another. The pace at which he lived his life seems frenetic, even without taking account of the sheer amount of time he must have spent on setting up all the various subterfuges Tomalin details. And this central part is what has been described as a,
"thrilling literary detective story and a deeply compassionate work".
The facts possibly merit this description. The writing does not. It is tedious. Claire Tomalin herself has said,
"Biographers search for traces, for evidence of activity, for signs of movement, for letters, for diaries, for photographs."
This can be skilfully woven into a riveting biography, and indeed Tomalin has additionally written an acclaimed biography of Charles Dickens himself. But The Invisible Woman just seems to be a catalogue of events, without much life, which the reader slogs through - whilst perhaps becoming increasingly uneasy. It is only by remote chance that any incriminating letters survive at all. We know that Dickens's son Henry, and Ellen Ternan's son Geoffrey Robinson, both destroyed all the letters they could. Dickens himself burned any personal letters that he could find, and also destroyed his diaries at the end of every year. Since everyone involved, including all Dickens's biographers (roughly one every decade since his death) went to such great pains to conceal these facts, since his family, his descendants and his friends sometimes went through great personal difficulties to enable this, since we can gain nothing of substance by "knowing the truth" at this stage, what really is the point?
During her life, there are strong indications that Nelly bore Dickens a male child, but that it died. As Tomalin says,
"There is too much soft evidence to be brushed aside entirely."
Dickens the celebrity went from strength to strength. He developed public readings of his works, which became enormously important to him. The couple eloped to Boulogne, although Dickens travelled between all his homes incessantly. He also wrote two of his greatest novels during these years, "Great Expectations" and "Our Mutual Friend". He sent proofs of these to Nelly, and seems to have discussed his work with her. Yet after her busy active life as an actress, her fight for independence and respectability, she now remained hidden in France for several years, presumably now twiddling her fingers and bored out of her mind with loneliness. Dickens never acknowledged her as his companion in public. Indeed, Tomalin says,
"He was so successful in imposing his version of what happened on the world that when, sixty years after his death, it was first publicly stated that he had kept a mistress and that she had been an actress, the British public was deeply upset and outraged."
After Dickens's death in 1870, ironically, Nelly seems to develop into a new person. The final part of the book describes her life after Dickens's death. In 1876, she became, "Mrs George Wharton Robinson", having married a younger admirer, a schoolmaster. Unfortunately he turned out to be a rather dull, unambitious, disorganised person. Their fortunes went from bad to worse, but she did subsequently have two children from the marriage. None of her family knew of her close relationship with Dickens and she managed to fraudulently place her age at between 10 and 12 years younger than her actual age until after her death. This is a significant period as it almost exactly mirrors the length of time which her relationship with Dickens lasted.
Sadly her son did discover the truth - when he was older, and when his mother was dead. Not surprisingly he did not find the lies easy to accept, and just became another casualty in this sorry saga. Nelly died in 1914, her son taking her to be buried with her husband, the gravestone naming "Ellen Wharton Robinson", rather than her birth name, "Ellen Lawless Ternan". Even this inscription has become almost obliterated over time. As Claire Tomalin says,
"From Dickens, Nelly learned how to deceive. Just as he had tricked the world by using false names and installing her as "Mrs Tringham" in the houses he shared with her, so after his death she used the simple trick of taking 10 years off her age to protect herself from questions. She reinvented herself."
A sad story. A story with many casualties, not least Dickens himself, who not only worked himself to an early death, but also died trying to keep too many balls in the air. He said,
"I am here, there, everywhere, nowhere."
John Sutherland, the great Dickens scholar, has said,
"Everyone who knew the full story of Dickens and Ternan took their knowledge, or almost all of it, to the grave. What we can gather about the relationship falls into three categories: incontrovertible facts, controversial facts, and hypotheses drawn from the facts."
This book is admittedly probably the most well-balanced of the theorists, with virtually none of Sutherland's "hypotheses" until the very end part mentioned before, about the circumstances of Dickens's death. Tomalin added this after the book's first publication, when yet more evidence was forthcoming.
It has been said that this biography provides,
"a compelling portrait of the great Victorian novelist himself."
I personally disagree. He was a man of his time, an individual trapped within his culture and time, as we all are. We may not like what we read, for at the root of it all, this is more a story about the hypocrisy in the Victorian Age. Perhaps you want to know the story, to become immersed in the colour and personalities of the tale, but are not an historian. Perhaps you do not have an obsessive need to dot every "i" and cross every "t". Well then, on this rare occasion, I would suggest you watch the film instead. This is a faultlessly detailed chronicle, yet I am finding it difficult to rate, for the reasons I have stated. I have settled on my "default" of 3*.
"his adult life was lived out during a period of acute hypocrisy in these matters. The domestic virtues were loudly proclaimed, public displays of bad behaviour - such as royal princes consorting with actresses - were no longer tolerated, and while prostitution of every kind flourished, discretion, or hypocrisy was required from all but the lowest social class. Dickens's response to this hypocrisy was never simple."
For all its attention to detail, this book still raises more questions than it answers. As early as 1939, George Bernard Shaw had his suspicions, wryly saying,
"The facts of the case may be in bad taste. Facts often are."
Poor Nelly, she was not to know that fashions in sin change as much as other fashions.