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The Well of Loneliness
The story of Stepehen Gordon a lesbian living in early 20th century England. Forced into exile from her home, she moves to Paris where she meets more of her own kind and struggles to validate her difficult existence.
508 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1928
About the author
Radclyffe Hall
77 books379 followersMarguerite Antonia Radclyffe Hall (12 August 1880 – 7 October 1943) was an English poet and author, best known for the novel The Well of Loneliness, a groundbreaking work in lesbian literature. In adulthood, Hall often went by the name John, rather than Marguerite.
In the drawing rooms of Edwardian society, Marguerite made a small name as a poet and librettist. In 1907, she met a middle-aged fashionable singer, Mrs. Mabel Batten, known as 'Ladye", who introduced her to influential people. Batten and Radclyffe Hall entered into a long-term relationship. But before Batten died in 1916, Radclyffe Hall, known in private as 'John', had taken up with the second love of her life, Una, Lady Troubridge, who gave up her own creative aspirations (she was the first English translator of the French novelist Colette) to manage the household which she shared with 'John' for 28 years. With Batten, Radclyffe Hall converted to Catholicism; in the company of Una, she pursued an interest in animals and spiritualism. In later life, Radclyffe Hall chased after a younger woman named Evguenia Souline, a White Russian refugee. She died from cancer of the colon in October 1943.
As Radclyffe Hall (no hyphen; prefixed neither by 'John' nor 'Marguerite'), she published a volume of stories, Miss Ogilvy Finds Herself (1934), which describes how British society utilised 'masculine' women during the First World War and then dropped them afterwards, and a total of seven novels. However, the novel on which Radclyffe Hall's reputation rests primarily is The Well of Loneliness (1928).
The novel was successfully prosecuted for obscenity when if first came out, and remained banned in Britain until 1948. Vilified as 'the bible of lesbianism' by fire-and-brimstone reactionaries. In the seventies, the halcyon days of radical feminism, it was hailed as the first portrayal of a 'butch' woman.
In the drawing rooms of Edwardian society, Marguerite made a small name as a poet and librettist. In 1907, she met a middle-aged fashionable singer, Mrs. Mabel Batten, known as 'Ladye", who introduced her to influential people. Batten and Radclyffe Hall entered into a long-term relationship. But before Batten died in 1916, Radclyffe Hall, known in private as 'John', had taken up with the second love of her life, Una, Lady Troubridge, who gave up her own creative aspirations (she was the first English translator of the French novelist Colette) to manage the household which she shared with 'John' for 28 years. With Batten, Radclyffe Hall converted to Catholicism; in the company of Una, she pursued an interest in animals and spiritualism. In later life, Radclyffe Hall chased after a younger woman named Evguenia Souline, a White Russian refugee. She died from cancer of the colon in October 1943.
As Radclyffe Hall (no hyphen; prefixed neither by 'John' nor 'Marguerite'), she published a volume of stories, Miss Ogilvy Finds Herself (1934), which describes how British society utilised 'masculine' women during the First World War and then dropped them afterwards, and a total of seven novels. However, the novel on which Radclyffe Hall's reputation rests primarily is The Well of Loneliness (1928).
The novel was successfully prosecuted for obscenity when if first came out, and remained banned in Britain until 1948. Vilified as 'the bible of lesbianism' by fire-and-brimstone reactionaries. In the seventies, the halcyon days of radical feminism, it was hailed as the first portrayal of a 'butch' woman.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 2,296 reviews
November 10, 2009
it should be MANDATORY that everyone reads this book. everyone. there isn't anything too astounding about her writing style, and nothing too "deep" about it either. anyone could pick up this book and see clearly everything she's very clearly alluding to, so there isn't much mystery, but instead, a whole lot of straightforward honesty about an aspect of the world most overlook without even realizing.
what broke back mountain failed miserably in doing, ratcliffe did with ease. this isn't some kinky, soft core porn, fantasy, lesbian sex thriller. it isn't a sob story about rights denied gays either.
it's just the tragic story of someone who is. but her state of being, by no fault or choice of her own, disallows her from the honor given to even the most degenerate people of society.
it's just her story-- without bias, without the evil conspiracy of the "homosexual agenda", without hope of guilting the readers into self loathing, or repentance of unfair treatment to diverse populations-- it just is.
i wish my mom could/would read this book. not that she is like the extreme mother in this book- just because it would be a way for her to see aspects of my heart that she would never be able to imagine a way to understand otherwise.
what broke back mountain failed miserably in doing, ratcliffe did with ease. this isn't some kinky, soft core porn, fantasy, lesbian sex thriller. it isn't a sob story about rights denied gays either.
it's just the tragic story of someone who is. but her state of being, by no fault or choice of her own, disallows her from the honor given to even the most degenerate people of society.
it's just her story-- without bias, without the evil conspiracy of the "homosexual agenda", without hope of guilting the readers into self loathing, or repentance of unfair treatment to diverse populations-- it just is.
i wish my mom could/would read this book. not that she is like the extreme mother in this book- just because it would be a way for her to see aspects of my heart that she would never be able to imagine a way to understand otherwise.
February 26, 2025
this book was written to test how much I can handle back to back before I have a complete breakdown
August 4, 2024
I really wanted to like this more than I did.
The Well of Loneliness-- and the legal battles over its publication --increased awareness and acceptance of lesbians in British and American culture. The first few chapters, approximately the first quarter of the book, were interesting. It was an emotive journey being inside Stephen's mind as she is born into a wealthy British family and grows up butch and nonconforming in a time when pretty dresses and nice manners were all that was expected of upper class women.
However, the book quickly grew stale and meandering as we ventured further into Stephen's adult life. It went on and on forever, with multiple tangents here and there, making me wonder if shaving off a couple hundred pages might have been the best decision.
It is also a struggle, as a modern reader, to accept some of the outdated ideology. Radclyffe Hall's understanding of homosexuality is drawn from the work of Karl Heinrich Ulrichs, which makes sense as there were few sources one could turn to in the 1920s. But Ulrichs saw gay men as a "female psyche trapped in a male body" and vice versa for lesbians.
So Stephen is presented as something less than-- or perhaps it is correct to say more than --a "normal" woman. So, rather than being an empowering book about how there's no right way to be a woman, instead Stephen's disdain for the feminine, plus the way she infantilizes her more femme lover, comes across as simply misogynistic and gross.
Adult Stephen reads as a pompous, entitled, racist and misogynistic man. Some modern readers have decided that Stephen and Radclyffe Hall are actually trans men, which may or may not be the case. Impossible to say with the author long dead. But if Stephen is indeed a man, then he's a dick.
The Well of Loneliness-- and the legal battles over its publication --increased awareness and acceptance of lesbians in British and American culture. The first few chapters, approximately the first quarter of the book, were interesting. It was an emotive journey being inside Stephen's mind as she is born into a wealthy British family and grows up butch and nonconforming in a time when pretty dresses and nice manners were all that was expected of upper class women.
However, the book quickly grew stale and meandering as we ventured further into Stephen's adult life. It went on and on forever, with multiple tangents here and there, making me wonder if shaving off a couple hundred pages might have been the best decision.
It is also a struggle, as a modern reader, to accept some of the outdated ideology. Radclyffe Hall's understanding of homosexuality is drawn from the work of Karl Heinrich Ulrichs, which makes sense as there were few sources one could turn to in the 1920s. But Ulrichs saw gay men as a "female psyche trapped in a male body" and vice versa for lesbians.
So Stephen is presented as something less than-- or perhaps it is correct to say more than --a "normal" woman. So, rather than being an empowering book about how there's no right way to be a woman, instead Stephen's disdain for the feminine, plus the way she infantilizes her more femme lover, comes across as simply misogynistic and gross.
Adult Stephen reads as a pompous, entitled, racist and misogynistic man. Some modern readers have decided that Stephen and Radclyffe Hall are actually trans men, which may or may not be the case. Impossible to say with the author long dead. But if Stephen is indeed a man, then he's a dick.
July 25, 2020
If you are looking for cheerful and uplifting, don’t start here: the title gives it away. The main protagonist is Stephen Gordon, named Stephen because her father wanted a boy and stuck with the chosen name when a girl arrived. This is a very English novel:
“Not very far from Upton-on-Severn–between it, in fact, and the Malvern Hills–stands the country seat of the Gordons of Bramberly; well-timbered, well-cottaged, well-fenced and well-watered, having, in this latter respect, a stream that forks in exactly the right position to feed two large lakes in the grounds.”
Stephen is upper class and whatever else she suffers in the novel, she is never poor.
It’s impossible to avoid mentioning the trial for obscenity in 1928. The impetus came from the tabloid press and the obscenity?
"she kissed her full on the lips, as a lover" and "and that night, they were not divided"
It was really about the depiction of a lifestyle, especially the sections set in Paris after the First World War. However battle lines were drawn and writers like Shaw, Eliot, the Woolfs, Forster, Smyth, Jameson and Wells amongst others. Although only a limited number (such as Woolf and Forster were prepared to testify). The outcome was a foregone conclusion and the novel was not published in the UK until 1949, after Hall’s death.
Inevitably there has been a great deal of debate about this book over the years with views and opinions changing and ebbing to and fro. One ongoing discussion is whether Stephen as she is described was transgender. As she says to her mother: "All my life I’ve never felt like a woman, and you know it."
There is a particular use of language as well. The use of the term invert stems from the work of Havelock Ellis. It is not, thankfully, a term that has survived.
Hall covers a good deal of ground in the 450 pages and the depiction of the bars and sub-culture of Paris in the 1920s are well drawn. France did not have the laws against homosexuality that some other countries had.
One particular aside, some of the minor characters are very strong. Puddle, one of Stephen’s later governesses, who is clearly lesbian is well portrayed. The animals in particular play an important role and are well written.
Reactions to this novel have been strong in both directions, for many it was the only lesbian novel they had heard of. Mary Renault, who read it in 1938 recalls it as being earnest and humourless. However one Holocaust survivor noted: "Remembering that book, I wanted to live long enough to kiss another woman."
The ebb and flow go on. Hannah Roche has recently reassessed The Well:
“Was Hall cleverly turning to a Victorian mode in order to critique the politics of modernism, challenging the value of aesthetic experiment and obscurity? I argue not only that The Well was stylistically as impressive as the most celebrated of ‘difficult’ 1920s novels, but also that, by boldly appropriating an accepted (and heteronormative) genre, Hall makes a statement about the rightful position of lesbian writing that dares to strike its readers in ways more direct and profound than the audaciously avant-garde.”
For me, I understand its importance and I wasn’t expecting a happy ending (I wasn’t disappointed in that). Puddle’s advice to Stephen is powerful:
“You’re neither unnatural, nor abominable, nor mad; you’re as much a part of what people call nature as anyone else; only you’re unexplained as yet–you’ve not got your niche in creation. But some day that will come, and meanwhile don’t shrink from yourself, but face yourself calmly and bravely. Have courage; do the best you can with your burden. But above all be honourable. Cling to your honour for the sake of those others who share the same burden. For their sakes show the world that people like you and they can be quite as selfless and fine as the rest of mankind. Let your life go to prove this–it would be a really great life-work, Stephen.”
There’s still an element of apologizing for who you are and carrying a burden, but then even today the struggle continues.
Many problems in the novel arise from a lack of communication, but nothing has changed there! You can see the ending coming from a long way off, although the means is not obvious until late in the book. It’s not that well written and doesn’t stand up well to Orlando, which was published in the same year. Another point is that pity is not the best way of trying to get people on your side.
The interesting contrast between Stephen and Valerie Seymour is also illustrative. Seymour hosts a salon and is a pagan, no religion and has no problems with ethical dilemmas as a result of her lesbianism. Stephen holds onto the structures of Catholicism (on and off) and can’t manage to square her sexuality with her faith. Stephen’s relationship with her mother (who rejects her) also runs through the novel.
I can understand the importance of this novel at the time, but that time has gone and it feels more like a historical document, but I am glad I read it. The story is unbearably sad, but you can’t always have happy ever after.
“Not very far from Upton-on-Severn–between it, in fact, and the Malvern Hills–stands the country seat of the Gordons of Bramberly; well-timbered, well-cottaged, well-fenced and well-watered, having, in this latter respect, a stream that forks in exactly the right position to feed two large lakes in the grounds.”
Stephen is upper class and whatever else she suffers in the novel, she is never poor.
It’s impossible to avoid mentioning the trial for obscenity in 1928. The impetus came from the tabloid press and the obscenity?
"she kissed her full on the lips, as a lover" and "and that night, they were not divided"
It was really about the depiction of a lifestyle, especially the sections set in Paris after the First World War. However battle lines were drawn and writers like Shaw, Eliot, the Woolfs, Forster, Smyth, Jameson and Wells amongst others. Although only a limited number (such as Woolf and Forster were prepared to testify). The outcome was a foregone conclusion and the novel was not published in the UK until 1949, after Hall’s death.
Inevitably there has been a great deal of debate about this book over the years with views and opinions changing and ebbing to and fro. One ongoing discussion is whether Stephen as she is described was transgender. As she says to her mother: "All my life I’ve never felt like a woman, and you know it."
There is a particular use of language as well. The use of the term invert stems from the work of Havelock Ellis. It is not, thankfully, a term that has survived.
Hall covers a good deal of ground in the 450 pages and the depiction of the bars and sub-culture of Paris in the 1920s are well drawn. France did not have the laws against homosexuality that some other countries had.
One particular aside, some of the minor characters are very strong. Puddle, one of Stephen’s later governesses, who is clearly lesbian is well portrayed. The animals in particular play an important role and are well written.
Reactions to this novel have been strong in both directions, for many it was the only lesbian novel they had heard of. Mary Renault, who read it in 1938 recalls it as being earnest and humourless. However one Holocaust survivor noted: "Remembering that book, I wanted to live long enough to kiss another woman."
The ebb and flow go on. Hannah Roche has recently reassessed The Well:
“Was Hall cleverly turning to a Victorian mode in order to critique the politics of modernism, challenging the value of aesthetic experiment and obscurity? I argue not only that The Well was stylistically as impressive as the most celebrated of ‘difficult’ 1920s novels, but also that, by boldly appropriating an accepted (and heteronormative) genre, Hall makes a statement about the rightful position of lesbian writing that dares to strike its readers in ways more direct and profound than the audaciously avant-garde.”
For me, I understand its importance and I wasn’t expecting a happy ending (I wasn’t disappointed in that). Puddle’s advice to Stephen is powerful:
“You’re neither unnatural, nor abominable, nor mad; you’re as much a part of what people call nature as anyone else; only you’re unexplained as yet–you’ve not got your niche in creation. But some day that will come, and meanwhile don’t shrink from yourself, but face yourself calmly and bravely. Have courage; do the best you can with your burden. But above all be honourable. Cling to your honour for the sake of those others who share the same burden. For their sakes show the world that people like you and they can be quite as selfless and fine as the rest of mankind. Let your life go to prove this–it would be a really great life-work, Stephen.”
There’s still an element of apologizing for who you are and carrying a burden, but then even today the struggle continues.
Many problems in the novel arise from a lack of communication, but nothing has changed there! You can see the ending coming from a long way off, although the means is not obvious until late in the book. It’s not that well written and doesn’t stand up well to Orlando, which was published in the same year. Another point is that pity is not the best way of trying to get people on your side.
The interesting contrast between Stephen and Valerie Seymour is also illustrative. Seymour hosts a salon and is a pagan, no religion and has no problems with ethical dilemmas as a result of her lesbianism. Stephen holds onto the structures of Catholicism (on and off) and can’t manage to square her sexuality with her faith. Stephen’s relationship with her mother (who rejects her) also runs through the novel.
I can understand the importance of this novel at the time, but that time has gone and it feels more like a historical document, but I am glad I read it. The story is unbearably sad, but you can’t always have happy ever after.
January 18, 2023
I desperately need E.M. Forster to rewrite the ending of this book. I simply will not accept this ending.
This book is incredibly beautiful and I already can’t wait to reread it. Stunning prose and so so many incredible quotes.
The last sentence of the book left me starring into my wall for 10 minutes; 'God,' she gasped, 'we believe; we have told You we believe... We have not denied You; then rise up and defend us. Acknowledge us, O God, before the whole world. Give us also the right to our existence! "
“I can’t mourn her without bringing shame on her name - I can’t go back home now and mourn her. (…) I want them to know how much I loved her. Oh God, oh God! I can’t even mourn her…”
This book is incredibly beautiful and I already can’t wait to reread it. Stunning prose and so so many incredible quotes.
The last sentence of the book left me starring into my wall for 10 minutes; 'God,' she gasped, 'we believe; we have told You we believe... We have not denied You; then rise up and defend us. Acknowledge us, O God, before the whole world. Give us also the right to our existence! "
“I can’t mourn her without bringing shame on her name - I can’t go back home now and mourn her. (…) I want them to know how much I loved her. Oh God, oh God! I can’t even mourn her…”
July 12, 2009
what could have been a fascinating chronicle of a tough butch interloper challenging mainstream society becomes the drippy tale of a woman who just wants to be loved, and the cruel little bitch who leads her on. oh what a deep well! the writing's pretty swell though, that can't be denied. tres elegante. i was reminded of e.m. forster's equally drippy, equally beautiful (but rather more enjoyable) Maurice. plus i actually preferred the wish fulfillment of Maurice, sad to say. guess i'm not such a hardcore queer polemicist after all.
here's an update: got into a great argument over this book. Well of Loneliness' passionate defender insisted that the character of the so-called cruel little bitch needs to be understood in the context of the time period. the CLB had few options others than being, well, a CLB. apparently she was not the villain after all; she was a victim of fate and circumstance, just making do with the options she was given. a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do to make the rent. ain't nuthin' goin' on but the rent.
okay well i suppose that's a pretty good point. but is it enough to posthumously award an extra star to the novel, to even revivify it in my memory? i think not; the Well of Loneliness and its eye-rolling histrionics still feel dead to me.
here's an update: got into a great argument over this book. Well of Loneliness' passionate defender insisted that the character of the so-called cruel little bitch needs to be understood in the context of the time period. the CLB had few options others than being, well, a CLB. apparently she was not the villain after all; she was a victim of fate and circumstance, just making do with the options she was given. a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do to make the rent. ain't nuthin' goin' on but the rent.
okay well i suppose that's a pretty good point. but is it enough to posthumously award an extra star to the novel, to even revivify it in my memory? i think not; the Well of Loneliness and its eye-rolling histrionics still feel dead to me.
November 9, 2014
‘God,’ she gasped, we believe; we have told You we believe . . . We have not denied You, then rise up and defend us. Acknowledge us, oh God, before the whole world. Give us also the right to our existence!’
First things first, the cover on this edition is absurdly unrepresentative of the book.
Second, I liked the book. I would even recommend the book - it's just that it should come with a few notes:
1. It is endlessly long. And detailed. For no purpose. Whatsoever. If the length of the book was sustained by beautifully formed expressions it might not feel so long but....
2. I should not have read this so soon after reading the works of some master wordsmiths. Halls famous work is not as clunky as and slightly less preachy than The Unlit Lamp but it just isn't one of the books that would have been remembered for its evocative or imaginative writing.
3. The book was written with a purpose - a plea, if you like, that is expressed very openly in the closing chapters. As an example of cultural history or changes in society and attitudes, it is a fantastic read because it contains a lot of information about (and more detailed description of) British upper-middle class society of the early 20th century. So, if you read the book with a purpose of finding out more about these attitudes, this is a great read.
4. The character of Stephen seems to be based - at least to some extent - on Radclyffe Hall herself. As a result, the perspective taken by the main character and the book as a whole is limited to the experience of only one individual - which I guess is the point, but it doesn't make for a complex reading experience. In short, there does not seem to be an attempt to investigate other points of view, or experiment with angles of perception, or layers. There are other characters but few of them are given a real voice.
5. I could not help but smirk at the hint of hypocrisy in the books attempt to strive for acceptance of a minority when at the same time there is underlying attitude of snobbishness and chauvinism towards other minorities.
And yet, for all I criticise, there is an also an honesty to the story and Radclyffe Hall's forthright writing style that impresses me and this is worth the hard work of reading it:
The Well of Loneliness was published at the same time as Woolf's Orlando - touching on similar themes of identity - but where Orlando shrouded the issue in mysticism, Radclyffe Hall dared to write openly about sexual identity.
The book was banned under the Obscene Publications Act of 1857. The ban was not lifted until 1959 when the Act was amended. Originally, the test for obscenity was "whether the tendency of the matter charged as obscenity is to deprave and corrupt those whose minds are open to such immoral influences and into whose hands a publication of this sort may fall". In 1959 the Act was amended to differentiate controversial works of art and literature with social merit.
The Well of Loneliness was not only book with a lesbian theme to be published in Britain in 1928, but it was the only one banned - because of its forthrightness and its explicitness - though hardly what would pass as such in today's terms.
Arguably, it is the book's fate, the notoriety it gained by being banned, that helped The Well of Loneliness to remain in print today.
"You will see unfaithfulness, lies and deceit among those whom the world views with approbation. You will find that many have grown hard of heart, have grown greedy, selfish, cruel and lustful; and then you will turn to me and will say: “You and I are more worthy of respect than these people. Why does the world persecute us, Stephen?” And I shall answer: “Because in this world there is only toleration for the so-called normal.” And when you come to me for protection, I shall say: “I cannot protect you, Mary, the world has deprived me of my right to protect; I am utterly helpless, I can only love you”.’
This review was first posted on BookLikes: http://brokentune.booklikes.com/post/...
First things first, the cover on this edition is absurdly unrepresentative of the book.
Second, I liked the book. I would even recommend the book - it's just that it should come with a few notes:
1. It is endlessly long. And detailed. For no purpose. Whatsoever. If the length of the book was sustained by beautifully formed expressions it might not feel so long but....
2. I should not have read this so soon after reading the works of some master wordsmiths. Halls famous work is not as clunky as and slightly less preachy than The Unlit Lamp but it just isn't one of the books that would have been remembered for its evocative or imaginative writing.
3. The book was written with a purpose - a plea, if you like, that is expressed very openly in the closing chapters. As an example of cultural history or changes in society and attitudes, it is a fantastic read because it contains a lot of information about (and more detailed description of) British upper-middle class society of the early 20th century. So, if you read the book with a purpose of finding out more about these attitudes, this is a great read.
4. The character of Stephen seems to be based - at least to some extent - on Radclyffe Hall herself. As a result, the perspective taken by the main character and the book as a whole is limited to the experience of only one individual - which I guess is the point, but it doesn't make for a complex reading experience. In short, there does not seem to be an attempt to investigate other points of view, or experiment with angles of perception, or layers. There are other characters but few of them are given a real voice.
5. I could not help but smirk at the hint of hypocrisy in the books attempt to strive for acceptance of a minority when at the same time there is underlying attitude of snobbishness and chauvinism towards other minorities.
And yet, for all I criticise, there is an also an honesty to the story and Radclyffe Hall's forthright writing style that impresses me and this is worth the hard work of reading it:
The Well of Loneliness was published at the same time as Woolf's Orlando - touching on similar themes of identity - but where Orlando shrouded the issue in mysticism, Radclyffe Hall dared to write openly about sexual identity.
The book was banned under the Obscene Publications Act of 1857. The ban was not lifted until 1959 when the Act was amended. Originally, the test for obscenity was "whether the tendency of the matter charged as obscenity is to deprave and corrupt those whose minds are open to such immoral influences and into whose hands a publication of this sort may fall". In 1959 the Act was amended to differentiate controversial works of art and literature with social merit.
The Well of Loneliness was not only book with a lesbian theme to be published in Britain in 1928, but it was the only one banned - because of its forthrightness and its explicitness - though hardly what would pass as such in today's terms.
Arguably, it is the book's fate, the notoriety it gained by being banned, that helped The Well of Loneliness to remain in print today.
"You will see unfaithfulness, lies and deceit among those whom the world views with approbation. You will find that many have grown hard of heart, have grown greedy, selfish, cruel and lustful; and then you will turn to me and will say: “You and I are more worthy of respect than these people. Why does the world persecute us, Stephen?” And I shall answer: “Because in this world there is only toleration for the so-called normal.” And when you come to me for protection, I shall say: “I cannot protect you, Mary, the world has deprived me of my right to protect; I am utterly helpless, I can only love you”.’
This review was first posted on BookLikes: http://brokentune.booklikes.com/post/...
March 10, 2025
A beautiful, thought-provoking, frustrating novel. It’s literally called The Well of Loneliness, so it’s not like I expected a happy ending. But still, I didn’t expect it to be quite so horrible.
The novel is a fascinating exploration of its era’s ideas about gender and sexuality, as foundational to the history of trans literature as to lesbian literature. Overwrought and a bit unwieldy, it has yet a grandeur and ambition well suited to the somewhat twisted moral universe it constructs. And if the book is episodic, each of the episodes more than holds its own, painting equally vivid portraits of Stephen’s early childhood in the English countryside, an ambulance corps on the Western Front of World War I, lesbian nightlife in Paris after the war, as it moves, at once headlong and leisurely, through a convulsively changing world.
In my view, early 20th-century conceptions of masculinity are just as important as homosexuality in making sense of the novel. Stephen is not just trying to make sense of life as an “invert,” to use the language of the time and the book—she is also trying to uphold the standards of masculine behavior expected of her class and generation. And in the end, it is the misogyny of the 1920s, more than the homophobia, that undoes Stephen and Mary’s relationship. They are on guard against the world’s scorn for queer people; they’ve armed themselves against it. But the threat posed by the misogynistic masculine ideal that Stephen venerates is something even the author doesn’t really recognize, even as it eats away at all Stephen and Mary—and, I suspect, most modern readers—hold dear.
The novel is a fascinating exploration of its era’s ideas about gender and sexuality, as foundational to the history of trans literature as to lesbian literature. Overwrought and a bit unwieldy, it has yet a grandeur and ambition well suited to the somewhat twisted moral universe it constructs. And if the book is episodic, each of the episodes more than holds its own, painting equally vivid portraits of Stephen’s early childhood in the English countryside, an ambulance corps on the Western Front of World War I, lesbian nightlife in Paris after the war, as it moves, at once headlong and leisurely, through a convulsively changing world.
In my view, early 20th-century conceptions of masculinity are just as important as homosexuality in making sense of the novel. Stephen is not just trying to make sense of life as an “invert,” to use the language of the time and the book—she is also trying to uphold the standards of masculine behavior expected of her class and generation. And in the end, it is the misogyny of the 1920s, more than the homophobia, that undoes Stephen and Mary’s relationship. They are on guard against the world’s scorn for queer people; they’ve armed themselves against it. But the threat posed by the misogynistic masculine ideal that Stephen venerates is something even the author doesn’t really recognize, even as it eats away at all Stephen and Mary—and, I suspect, most modern readers—hold dear.
June 29, 2021
It's incredible to discover that less than a hundred years ago in 1928 James Douglas, the editor of the Sunday Express, wrote an article calling for a ban of “The Well of Loneliness” stating: “In order to prevent the contamination and corruption of English fiction it is the duty of the critic to make it impossible for any other novelist to repeat this outrage.” His campaign successfully led to the book being formally banned in Britain because of its representation of homosexuality as being a natural facet of identity and it wasn't made legally available again in this country until 1949.
This is the first time I've read this classic novel. I can only imagine what it would have meant to a gay person early in the 20th century to read it and discover a kinship of feeling – not just for the book's portrayal of female protagonist Stephen Gordon's emotional and sexual closeness to people of the same gender or Stephen's desire to dress in more masculine clothes – but the overwhelming sense it gives of being made to feel different and wrong for your very existence. The first section of the book describes Stephen's coming of age and feeling continuously frustrated “for she did not know the meaning of herself.” Nor does she have language available to describe her difference. Those that seem to understand her queerness (even her own father) refuse to name it so for many years her estrangement and isolation is felt all the more intensely.
Of course, to me and any sensitive or queer person who read it at the time of publication, it's perfectly obvious what Stephen is. Her early passionate crush on a beautiful maid and misguided affair with a married American woman are so touchingly portrayed because they are expressions of longing which can never be fulfilled in a satisfying way – not just because Stephen's feelings can't be equally reciprocated but because there's a fundamental miscommunication of desire. What's wonderful is that over the course of the novel Stephen discovers the words with which to describe herself and this leads to her liberation.
Read my full review of The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall on LonesomeReader
This is the first time I've read this classic novel. I can only imagine what it would have meant to a gay person early in the 20th century to read it and discover a kinship of feeling – not just for the book's portrayal of female protagonist Stephen Gordon's emotional and sexual closeness to people of the same gender or Stephen's desire to dress in more masculine clothes – but the overwhelming sense it gives of being made to feel different and wrong for your very existence. The first section of the book describes Stephen's coming of age and feeling continuously frustrated “for she did not know the meaning of herself.” Nor does she have language available to describe her difference. Those that seem to understand her queerness (even her own father) refuse to name it so for many years her estrangement and isolation is felt all the more intensely.
Of course, to me and any sensitive or queer person who read it at the time of publication, it's perfectly obvious what Stephen is. Her early passionate crush on a beautiful maid and misguided affair with a married American woman are so touchingly portrayed because they are expressions of longing which can never be fulfilled in a satisfying way – not just because Stephen's feelings can't be equally reciprocated but because there's a fundamental miscommunication of desire. What's wonderful is that over the course of the novel Stephen discovers the words with which to describe herself and this leads to her liberation.
Read my full review of The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall on LonesomeReader
January 7, 2026
I am one of those whom God marked on the forehead. Like Cain, I am marked and blemished.
Finally, I got round to reading this and, for me, it's a book which falls into two distinct halves. The first I loved: an intimate bildungsroman of Stephen's coming of age on a landed estate in the Midlands. From the start, she knows herself to be different: she is tall and muscular, broad-shouldered and thin-hipped; she rides astride when she goes hunting and wears men's clothes and can't wait to cut off all her hair. This embodied difference is matched by Stephen's internal feelings of not being like Violet and other girls in her small circle, leading to her agonising about what she is.
The second half follows Stephen beyond England - and here the intimacy and close detail of the first half fell away. We're in Paris, Stephen has become a famous novelist while off-stage, and then WW1 breaks out and she's an ambulance driver at the front before returning to Paris. Swift plot takes over from the slow accumulation of a detailed life and the writing descends into cliché and melodrama ('for now they were in the grip of Creation, of Creation's terrific urge to create; the urge that will sometimes sweep forward blindly alike into fruitful and sterile channels').
Nevertheless, this is rightly categorised as an important document in gender and queer history. Published in 1928, this offers a distinct staging in our understanding of the historical constructions of gendered and sexual identities: there's often a kind of uncomfortable gender essentialism on display here from Stephen's embodied 'difference' to the way she thinks of femininity: ' 'Do you love me?' The woman's eternal question.'
Alongside this categorisation of gendered characteristics, Stephen subscribes unquestioningly to other hierarchies of the period: she reveres her landed aristocracy heritage and home; when the First World War breaks out she feels as so many men did that dulce et decorum est pro patria mori (how sweet and fitting it is to die for one's country) - an axiom that soldier-poets like Wilfred Owen and Siegried Sassoon amongst many others exposed as a bitter lie; she is wealthy and moves primarily in rich social circles (she had contemplated funding and establishing her own ambulance unit at the front) and the whole book is framed through a conventional - and increasingly pressured - Christian framework. Stephen's sexual identity throughout is a burden to her and even her pleas for acceptance are, in the end, a cry to her god, not a defiance or call to activism.
I mean, that's fine, this is not a criticism but an exploration of where this book positions itself historically and ideologically. It's essentially conservative and uses concepts of 'normality' and 'inversion' in standard ways, rather than deconstructing or even interrogating them.
The book contains two love affairs of Stephen's - one detailed in the first half as an example of unrequited love that pulses with yearning and desire; the other in the second half that feels melodramatic in its narrative function - and is filled with an aching sense of isolation and the eponymous loneliness. It's impossible not to feel for Stephen when even in Paris in a queer community, she is essentially alone.
Given the period when this was written and published, there is nothing explicit here other than a few passionate kisses. Strikingly, this often reminded me of Jane Eyre, another strong-willed female character who was socially awkward and excluded for not conforming to ideas of obedient femininity. Jane, too, struggled with social isolation and loneliness though without the cushioning of wealth, status, and a family name. Jane, of course, recuperates herself through marriage in a way that Stephen does not but, oddly, Stephen frequently feels less disruptive, challenging and radical than Jane.
The internalised prejudices that Stephen has, couched in biblical terms as in the quotation at the head of this review, mean she veers between self-loathing and self-assertion. Her final plea to her god to allow her to exist is both heart-rending and yet somehow blind to the very structures that imprison and confine her. It's immensely striking how conservative this book is in its values in comparison to writings by other queer modernists such as Gertrude Stein and Virginia Woolf - the easy sexual and gender interrogation and fluidity of Mrs. Dalloway and, especially, Orlando (published the same year as this book) mark a stark contrast to the far more straitened emotions of Stephen.
For all that, the suffering and anguish that this book communicates on Stephen's part is immense and emboldened, making this far more of a recommendation from me than the rating might indicate. Just be aware that the pacing and length of the book feels off and that, for this reader at least, the first half is far stronger and more emotionally engaging than the second: 3.5 stars.
February 8, 2020
the well of loneliness redeeming points:
1. butch vulnerability and sensibility; she draws stephen as an incredibly compelling character, both powerful and sensitive, defiant and yearning for acceptance. i can appreciate what the novel’s trying to do, and how groundbreaking it was for its time; it’s essentially a plea for acceptance, and i think considering the way you can trace a lot of contemporary gay narratives back to it (“born this way”; “love is love”; etc) it was largely successful, in the long run.
2. very well-rounded characters, actually, no matter how unlikeable you find them. special mention to stephen’s family dynamics and all the paris gays: valérie seymour, power femme, and her circle of “outcasts”; jonathan brockett and all the party gays are incredible characters, despite hall’s painful moral superiority when describing them. (she describes their partying as “the Dance of Death”, lol.)
3. incredible attention to detail that makes the novel a lot more interesting as a historical artefact than as a literary work. the emphasis on clothing and appearance was especially delightful
reasons why the well of loneliness drove me hysterical:
1. appallingly racist
2. somehow manages to be unspeakably cheesy without a single hint of fun
3. every time she humanised an animal (she makes the domestic animals call their owners “gods”) i physically cringed
4. completely fixated on an upper-class entitlement and incomprehension that it has been taken away. has all the signs of hall’s later fascist sympathies, actually: the novel hinges on concepts of birthright, the nation-state, the social order as natural & divinely ordained. a reminder, i guess, of the dangers of privileging wealthy white historical gay figures & their writing, and that gay-tinted fascism has a much longer history than we’d like.
1. butch vulnerability and sensibility; she draws stephen as an incredibly compelling character, both powerful and sensitive, defiant and yearning for acceptance. i can appreciate what the novel’s trying to do, and how groundbreaking it was for its time; it’s essentially a plea for acceptance, and i think considering the way you can trace a lot of contemporary gay narratives back to it (“born this way”; “love is love”; etc) it was largely successful, in the long run.
2. very well-rounded characters, actually, no matter how unlikeable you find them. special mention to stephen’s family dynamics and all the paris gays: valérie seymour, power femme, and her circle of “outcasts”; jonathan brockett and all the party gays are incredible characters, despite hall’s painful moral superiority when describing them. (she describes their partying as “the Dance of Death”, lol.)
3. incredible attention to detail that makes the novel a lot more interesting as a historical artefact than as a literary work. the emphasis on clothing and appearance was especially delightful
reasons why the well of loneliness drove me hysterical:
1. appallingly racist
2. somehow manages to be unspeakably cheesy without a single hint of fun
3. every time she humanised an animal (she makes the domestic animals call their owners “gods”) i physically cringed
4. completely fixated on an upper-class entitlement and incomprehension that it has been taken away. has all the signs of hall’s later fascist sympathies, actually: the novel hinges on concepts of birthright, the nation-state, the social order as natural & divinely ordained. a reminder, i guess, of the dangers of privileging wealthy white historical gay figures & their writing, and that gay-tinted fascism has a much longer history than we’d like.
September 3, 2013
If one thinks of "The Well of Loneliness" as having been written by a homophobic, sexist straight man then it begins to make sense. The central character (and stand-in for author Radclyffe Hall) is not a self-loathing lesbian at all, he's a transgendered man, and he's not exactly gay-friendly. The identification of Jonathan Brockett as gay by describing his hands as being “as white and soft as a woman’s,” for example, emphasizes Stephen’s conflicted feelings about his own sexuality and the feminine sex, as well as his blossoming sense of gender dysphoria, as he feels “a queer little sense of outrage.” If one regards Stephen as a woman it seems completely illogical for Stephen's hands are not, after all “white and soft.” Rather, Stephen is full of the sense of smug entitlement that goes along with being an upper class gentleman, and so while this "Well" is certainly fascinating as historical trans-fiction, the reader is likely to find himself/herself in the end feeling as though he/she has spent way too much time with an insufferable prick, and wondering why.
December 16, 2010
Recently in these parts I declared that this novel was so dull that today it is essentially unreadable, and that its lasting importance has everything to do with history and not a thing to do with art. And I still generally stand behind these sentiments.
BUT.
I read it. And I kind of enjoyed it, at least in parts. I had based the above judgements on reading the first 60 pages or so (in retrospect the weakest section of the entire novel) and upon my decision to incorporate it in a paper on the queer writing of Djuna Barnes and Charles Henri Ford, I felt it was my duty to give it a fair assessment. As expected, it was about twice as long as necessary, and there are whole chapters that serve no purpose than to reinforce the inherent moral virtue of the main character Stephen Gordon, a British writer with an aristocratic background clearly modeled on Hall's own life. Hall's prose has its own unique sense of lyricism, but it's about as delicate as a bulldozer, which also accurately describes Hall's approach to the self-proclaimed purpose of the novel: to justify the existence of "the congenital invert." This means that we get a number of polemical proclamations that are as jarring narratively as they often are in regards to content: "with the terrible bonds of her true nature, she could bind Mary fast, and the pain would be sweetness, so that the girl would cry out for that sweetness, hugging her chains always closer to her. The world would condemn but they would rejoice; glorious outcasts, unashamed, triumphant!”
Oy.
As usual, Virginia Woolf gives a crystalline, beautifully backhanded summation that expresses the situation better than I possibly could: "the dullness of the book is such that any indecency may lurk there—one simply can't keep one's eyes on the page."
And yet, and yet… I can't help but find some merit in it as well, and even feel something for it almost bordering on affection. This novel has undoubtedly meant a good deal to countless gay people since its first publication in 1928 (that quickly turned into a notorious, frenzied censorship trial a la Oscar Wilde), and there are moments, quite a few moments even, that are genuinely moving in their characterizations of the plight non-heterosexuals experience within a often hostile society, and the internal turmoil this inevitably creates. And if it's not exactly art, there is something to be said in Hall's defense that she made the conscious decision to boldly render, if sometimes inelegantly, "the love that dare not speak its name" in no uncertain terms. And while I might (vastly) prefer the labyrinthine, high modernist obfuscations of Barnes, Ford, Stein and other contemporaneous queer writers, with The Well of Loneliness Hall established a place amongst this illustrious group that is in its own way unique, and ultimately well deserved.
BUT.
I read it. And I kind of enjoyed it, at least in parts. I had based the above judgements on reading the first 60 pages or so (in retrospect the weakest section of the entire novel) and upon my decision to incorporate it in a paper on the queer writing of Djuna Barnes and Charles Henri Ford, I felt it was my duty to give it a fair assessment. As expected, it was about twice as long as necessary, and there are whole chapters that serve no purpose than to reinforce the inherent moral virtue of the main character Stephen Gordon, a British writer with an aristocratic background clearly modeled on Hall's own life. Hall's prose has its own unique sense of lyricism, but it's about as delicate as a bulldozer, which also accurately describes Hall's approach to the self-proclaimed purpose of the novel: to justify the existence of "the congenital invert." This means that we get a number of polemical proclamations that are as jarring narratively as they often are in regards to content: "with the terrible bonds of her true nature, she could bind Mary fast, and the pain would be sweetness, so that the girl would cry out for that sweetness, hugging her chains always closer to her. The world would condemn but they would rejoice; glorious outcasts, unashamed, triumphant!”
Oy.
As usual, Virginia Woolf gives a crystalline, beautifully backhanded summation that expresses the situation better than I possibly could: "the dullness of the book is such that any indecency may lurk there—one simply can't keep one's eyes on the page."
And yet, and yet… I can't help but find some merit in it as well, and even feel something for it almost bordering on affection. This novel has undoubtedly meant a good deal to countless gay people since its first publication in 1928 (that quickly turned into a notorious, frenzied censorship trial a la Oscar Wilde), and there are moments, quite a few moments even, that are genuinely moving in their characterizations of the plight non-heterosexuals experience within a often hostile society, and the internal turmoil this inevitably creates. And if it's not exactly art, there is something to be said in Hall's defense that she made the conscious decision to boldly render, if sometimes inelegantly, "the love that dare not speak its name" in no uncertain terms. And while I might (vastly) prefer the labyrinthine, high modernist obfuscations of Barnes, Ford, Stein and other contemporaneous queer writers, with The Well of Loneliness Hall established a place amongst this illustrious group that is in its own way unique, and ultimately well deserved.
April 19, 2008
I read The Well of Loneliness because of was very interested in reading novels on homosexuality. I needed something to relate to. The book centers around a girl whose father desperately wanted a boy and so named her Stephen. Throughout her childhood Stephen is shown as a girl unlike others. The way she carries herself, the way she acts and the fantasies she has about seeing herself as "Nelson", stress the fact Stephen sexuality is in question. As she grow, Stephen begins to find love in women and eventually settles down with one in particular. Until the dreadful ending.
I found the book up until the end to be very interesting and pleasant. However, throughout the novel one could not help feeling a sense of self-hatred in Stephen, as well as some other characters. Most of the time they would not even give themselves a name, could not see themselves as whole and thought mostly that outward achievements such as great writing that would make them famous, would make up for the fact that they were homosexuals.
This book to me seems like a cautionary tale to gay women in society. The morals that Ms.Radclyffe presents is that heterosexual couples are more acceptable and comfortable then a homosexual couple and that a heterosexual relationship is one that can truly provide the safety and dignity in this world. It's a shame Radclyffe wrote such beliefs.
I found the book up until the end to be very interesting and pleasant. However, throughout the novel one could not help feeling a sense of self-hatred in Stephen, as well as some other characters. Most of the time they would not even give themselves a name, could not see themselves as whole and thought mostly that outward achievements such as great writing that would make them famous, would make up for the fact that they were homosexuals.
This book to me seems like a cautionary tale to gay women in society. The morals that Ms.Radclyffe presents is that heterosexual couples are more acceptable and comfortable then a homosexual couple and that a heterosexual relationship is one that can truly provide the safety and dignity in this world. It's a shame Radclyffe wrote such beliefs.
April 24, 2014
this book was banned in England on publication in 1928, which of course made it a huge bestseller. and as it was published in France and the USA, it was easy to obtain copies.
and, of course, it is so tame by today's standards. the most explicit line in the book is "she kissed her full on the lips, like a lover". but the powers that be in England judged anything even hinting at lesbianism to be immoral.
in any event, it is a very fine novel, on it's own merits, and I really enjoyed it. the author uses the word queer extremely often, every few pages it seems, but not in the context of referring to the lesbians in the book, so I was wondering if that led to the word's current usage of referring to gays and lesbians?
throughout the book, the author is obviously trying to get across the point that lesbians should be treated the same as anybody else, which of course they should be. but the main character, Stephen (who is a female, despite the name) is portrayed as being very lonely and unhappy for most of the book, and the ending kind of makes you wonder whether the author thinks it's better not to be a lesbian.
anyway, it's an excellent book, which was republished by Virago in 1982 and has been reprinted almost every year since, so it is obviously finding new readers even now.
highly recommended!
and, of course, it is so tame by today's standards. the most explicit line in the book is "she kissed her full on the lips, like a lover". but the powers that be in England judged anything even hinting at lesbianism to be immoral.
in any event, it is a very fine novel, on it's own merits, and I really enjoyed it. the author uses the word queer extremely often, every few pages it seems, but not in the context of referring to the lesbians in the book, so I was wondering if that led to the word's current usage of referring to gays and lesbians?
throughout the book, the author is obviously trying to get across the point that lesbians should be treated the same as anybody else, which of course they should be. but the main character, Stephen (who is a female, despite the name) is portrayed as being very lonely and unhappy for most of the book, and the ending kind of makes you wonder whether the author thinks it's better not to be a lesbian.
anyway, it's an excellent book, which was republished by Virago in 1982 and has been reprinted almost every year since, so it is obviously finding new readers even now.
highly recommended!
September 25, 2021
lesbian (literary) history makes my heart soooo full; absolutely insane that this novel and its history isn‘t more widely known/taught and i would‘ve never heard of it if i hadn’t been specifically looking for it
„if our love is a sin, then heaven must be full of such tender and selfless sinning as ours“
„you‘re neither unnatural, nor abominable, nor mad; you're as much a part of what people call nature as anyone else; only you're unexplained as yet — you've not got your niche in creation. (…) for their sakes show the world that people like you and they can be quite as selfless and fine as the rest of mankind. let your life go to prove this — it would be a really great life-work, stephen.“
„if our love is a sin, then heaven must be full of such tender and selfless sinning as ours“
„you‘re neither unnatural, nor abominable, nor mad; you're as much a part of what people call nature as anyone else; only you're unexplained as yet — you've not got your niche in creation. (…) for their sakes show the world that people like you and they can be quite as selfless and fine as the rest of mankind. let your life go to prove this — it would be a really great life-work, stephen.“
Read
January 9, 2021very relieved to have finished this now.
February 16, 2023
4.5 stars
The Well of Loneliness is a touching exploration of gender identity, sexuality, and family relations. I'm beyond impressed by Radclyffe Hall's writing prowess and shocked that this classic is not a part of more curriculums.
The Well of Loneliness is a touching exploration of gender identity, sexuality, and family relations. I'm beyond impressed by Radclyffe Hall's writing prowess and shocked that this classic is not a part of more curriculums.
February 9, 2023
This was the first openly lesbian novel to be ever published in the world (England 1928), and I was gonna give it 4 stars bcs it was a little bit slow, but MY GOD. WHAT AN ENDING!! (That’s a Maurice by E. M. Forster reference, someone pls get it). It wasn’t happy, I’m literally so mad rn, but it also has a little hope in it?? The whole book treated homosexuality like something normal (Like, of course it is, I am, but this is from the 1920s, yk) and it was SO BEAUTIFUL WRITTEN. This was too much of a masterpiece, tbh. I can’t gather my thoughts rn, but I’ll write a review soon.
For now, some songs I associate to this:
The Man - Taylor Swift
I Know Places - Taylor Swift
coney island - Taylor Swift
Outlaws - Green Day
Ordinary World - Green Day
Born To Die - Lana Del Rey
State of Grace - Taylor Swift
We could be the same - maNga
peace - Taylor Swift
exile - Taylor Swift
For now, some songs I associate to this:
The Man - Taylor Swift
I Know Places - Taylor Swift
coney island - Taylor Swift
Outlaws - Green Day
Ordinary World - Green Day
Born To Die - Lana Del Rey
State of Grace - Taylor Swift
We could be the same - maNga
peace - Taylor Swift
exile - Taylor Swift
February 1, 2024
A landmark work this may be, literary fiction it certainly is not. I’m also doubtful about its being representative of the lesbian experience in general. This was an absolute grind to read. I would have quickly abandoned it had my reading buddy not urged me on. The novel has not aged well. The prose is generally poor. Religion is heavily present; angst and melodrama even more so. The central character is intolerably self-absorbed. I did not buy the protagonist’s late-Victorian landed-class parents’ naming her “Stephen” simply because they’d been so set on having a son. That no one would find this at all odd was even harder to credit. I agree with Jeanette Winterson on this one: it reads like a misery memoir. I got through it, but only just . . .
I am still recovering.
I am still recovering.
September 9, 2020
I read this book as a teenager and was so riveted by the story I still have my copy, yellowed pages and all.
Reading ‘The Well of Loneliness’ gave me an insight into something that people, in those days (1950’s) spoke of only in horrified whispers. It spoke of people who were misunderstood and denigrated because of how they felt, which seemed wrong to me even at an early age.
I re-read it a couple years ago and got the very same feeling as I did the very first time. I would never call this book depressing, but I would call it sad. To me, it is a sad love story.
I believe it is as topical today as it was when it was written. It is a poignant beautifully written story of Stephen Gordon’s struggle for a self image that was honest and true.
I absolutely LOVE this book!
Reading ‘The Well of Loneliness’ gave me an insight into something that people, in those days (1950’s) spoke of only in horrified whispers. It spoke of people who were misunderstood and denigrated because of how they felt, which seemed wrong to me even at an early age.
I re-read it a couple years ago and got the very same feeling as I did the very first time. I would never call this book depressing, but I would call it sad. To me, it is a sad love story.
I believe it is as topical today as it was when it was written. It is a poignant beautifully written story of Stephen Gordon’s struggle for a self image that was honest and true.
I absolutely LOVE this book!
July 10, 2025
Absolutely worthy of its place in the Pantheon. Beautifully, carefully and deliberately done, with the courage to have the only honest ending possible (for that well was so deep and so dark back then). Not perfect of course, but nothing is, and (again, obviously) not in line with current sensibilities in certain ways (changes which this book helped make), but that is all to be expected. It treads a fine line between being enough of a page-turner to make sure as many as possible hear its message, and being subtle, complex and well written. Wonderful.
January 4, 2019
James Douglas, editor of the Sunday Express, wrote, " Am well aware that sexual inversion and perversion are horrors which exist among us today. They flaunt themselves in public places … I would rather give a healthy boy or a healthy girl a phial of prussic acid than this novel."
‘’If our love is a sin then heaven must be full of such tender and selfless sinning as ours’’
‘’-Why does the world persecute us?
-Because in this world there is only toleration for the so-called normal.’’
This is a 3.8 for me. i mean it was kinda boring at the start and it could have been a bit shorter. Also I’m not really into romance. I’ve read like what? 3 books? Okay probably more. i don't fucking care. It has to be really good for me to get invested. Yes we are gonna pretend like the two books of Nicholas Sparks *almost typed Cage* were masterpieces (Lucky One, Last Song). For a weird reason i really like them…. Why am I talking about this? Classics are just a hit or miss with me… ugh that reminds me, I need to finish Anna Karenina. It’s too long.
Anyways, the reason I bought this is that I read it’s the lesbian bible, a must have and when it came out it got banned for obscenity so I was like ‘bitch yeesss’. If it wasn’t for that I wouldn’t have picked it up. I’m glad I did.
They said merry Christmas many times. See i read a xmas book during the holidays. My holiday spirit is truly amazing. Btw I read it in four days. One of them was on December 26 and somehow ended up reading the Christmas part.
What the fuck is this review.
‘’If our love is a sin then heaven must be full of such tender and selfless sinning as ours’’
‘’-Why does the world persecute us?
-Because in this world there is only toleration for the so-called normal.’’
This is a 3.8 for me. i mean it was kinda boring at the start and it could have been a bit shorter. Also I’m not really into romance. I’ve read like what? 3 books? Okay probably more. i don't fucking care. It has to be really good for me to get invested. Yes we are gonna pretend like the two books of Nicholas Sparks *almost typed Cage* were masterpieces (Lucky One, Last Song). For a weird reason i really like them…. Why am I talking about this? Classics are just a hit or miss with me… ugh that reminds me, I need to finish Anna Karenina. It’s too long.
Anyways, the reason I bought this is that I read it’s the lesbian bible, a must have and when it came out it got banned for obscenity so I was like ‘bitch yeesss’. If it wasn’t for that I wouldn’t have picked it up. I’m glad I did.
They said merry Christmas many times. See i read a xmas book during the holidays. My holiday spirit is truly amazing. Btw I read it in four days. One of them was on December 26 and somehow ended up reading the Christmas part.
July 31, 2009
This is possibly the most beautiful book I have ever read. The prose is simply exquisite. Hall proves that imagery does not have to be tedious and overwraught. I felt a hundred times while reading this novel that I had never heard such a sentiment expressed so perfectly. In fact, sometimes the prose was so beautiful that the context almost faded away entirely, and I was simply left with a breath-taking sentence, paragraph or more...
Sadly, this book is still relevant 90 years after it was penned. I thought I would burst when Stephen rehearsed the speech she planned to give Mary about what would happen if they became lovers. So little has changed since then.
Though I was warned that the ending was disastrous, I have to disagree entirely. The book is a tragedy, but not one that is contrived or forced. There is no oracle, no announcement that our lovers are star-crossed, just a very sad reality of the time and an inevitable conlcusion. I think that Stephen's sacrifice is greater than any most of us selfish mortals could make. She felt she must save Mary, that her salvation would come too late to preserve her, and so she did the only thing she felt she could... she let Mary go.
This book is both exquisitely written and extremely relevant. It should be required reading in high schools and colleges. Everyone should experience the life and writings of Hall.
Sadly, this book is still relevant 90 years after it was penned. I thought I would burst when Stephen rehearsed the speech she planned to give Mary about what would happen if they became lovers. So little has changed since then.
Though I was warned that the ending was disastrous, I have to disagree entirely. The book is a tragedy, but not one that is contrived or forced. There is no oracle, no announcement that our lovers are star-crossed, just a very sad reality of the time and an inevitable conlcusion. I think that Stephen's sacrifice is greater than any most of us selfish mortals could make. She felt she must save Mary, that her salvation would come too late to preserve her, and so she did the only thing she felt she could... she let Mary go.
This book is both exquisitely written and extremely relevant. It should be required reading in high schools and colleges. Everyone should experience the life and writings of Hall.
March 24, 2018
Alternative title- The deep, deep, pitiful well of loneliness.
I mean, I knew this would be sad, but I hoped it wouldn't be quite as despairing. I suppose the clue was in the name and the fact this is early 20th century lesbian fiction, which we all know didn't end well. After all, we can't be encouraging the ladies.
Aside from the sexuality, this reminds me why the 1920s are my favourite period in literature. There's something so evocative about the time and although the writing style, of course, differs between authors, they all have a certain quality to their work that mesmerises me.
This was a fascinating story, dealing with the life of Stephen from when she's a young girl, through to her teenage years when she makes fateful friendships and love affairs. Onto her adult life where she lives on her own terms. It captures the period of English country houses, Lords that go shooting and Ladies that lunch. We also have a great big generous slice of Parisian culture and the trauma of WW1. There's so much packed in, yet it's a slow sensual read. Not in a sexy or explicit style, but in the mood of the time and the tone of how the story unfolds. It's about the joy and pain of being 'other', at a time when this was not allowed. It's wonderful and heartbreaking all at once.
It really is a must read.
I mean, I knew this would be sad, but I hoped it wouldn't be quite as despairing. I suppose the clue was in the name and the fact this is early 20th century lesbian fiction, which we all know didn't end well. After all, we can't be encouraging the ladies.
Aside from the sexuality, this reminds me why the 1920s are my favourite period in literature. There's something so evocative about the time and although the writing style, of course, differs between authors, they all have a certain quality to their work that mesmerises me.
This was a fascinating story, dealing with the life of Stephen from when she's a young girl, through to her teenage years when she makes fateful friendships and love affairs. Onto her adult life where she lives on her own terms. It captures the period of English country houses, Lords that go shooting and Ladies that lunch. We also have a great big generous slice of Parisian culture and the trauma of WW1. There's so much packed in, yet it's a slow sensual read. Not in a sexy or explicit style, but in the mood of the time and the tone of how the story unfolds. It's about the joy and pain of being 'other', at a time when this was not allowed. It's wonderful and heartbreaking all at once.
It really is a must read.
May 3, 2024
Loneliness – loss – disappointment – shame – self-hatred – sadness – pain – despair – hopelessness …
It’s quite difficult for me to understand why the ultraconservatives and right-wing people were foaming at the mouth after this famous classic had come out in 1928. After all, the main character is at odds with her fate as an “invert” from the very start and suffers so much over the course of the story (and it’s a long story!) that I’m not able to see the undesirable influence on young people here, that is, the “tempting” queer representation in this book.
When I read this novel, which appears to be intensely personal and autobiographical, the protagonist’s suffering often became almost unbearable to me. It was just painful to witness her deeply distressing experiences as a social outcast and her desperate attempts to find love and lead a happy life.
From a present-day perspective, it’s not clear whether Stephen, the central character, is a lesbian or a trans man. It’s a bit strange to see that in this book, being a lesbian is lumped together with being transgender and with looking androgynous/masculine as a biological woman – and especially the author’s indications that Stephen’s characteristics might be (or are?) a consequence of the fact that her parents always wanted to have a son instead of a daughter. But then the story is almost a hundred years old, and therefore at least a bit outdated. Fortunately …
Anyway, this book is a bitter denunciation of intolerance and inhumanity in society at Radclyffe Hall’s time, although it expresses hope for a better future. That makes it an interesting contemporary document as well as a well written, albeit deeply disturbing novel.
It’s quite difficult for me to understand why the ultraconservatives and right-wing people were foaming at the mouth after this famous classic had come out in 1928. After all, the main character is at odds with her fate as an “invert” from the very start and suffers so much over the course of the story (and it’s a long story!) that I’m not able to see the undesirable influence on young people here, that is, the “tempting” queer representation in this book.
When I read this novel, which appears to be intensely personal and autobiographical, the protagonist’s suffering often became almost unbearable to me. It was just painful to witness her deeply distressing experiences as a social outcast and her desperate attempts to find love and lead a happy life.
From a present-day perspective, it’s not clear whether Stephen, the central character, is a lesbian or a trans man. It’s a bit strange to see that in this book, being a lesbian is lumped together with being transgender and with looking androgynous/masculine as a biological woman – and especially the author’s indications that Stephen’s characteristics might be (or are?) a consequence of the fact that her parents always wanted to have a son instead of a daughter. But then the story is almost a hundred years old, and therefore at least a bit outdated. Fortunately …
Anyway, this book is a bitter denunciation of intolerance and inhumanity in society at Radclyffe Hall’s time, although it expresses hope for a better future. That makes it an interesting contemporary document as well as a well written, albeit deeply disturbing novel.
June 17, 2022
This novel is not without its faults - it is too long, over-written and heavy-handed in places. That said, it is an incredible depiction of what life can be like for those who follow their instincts and are told they sin (thanks Pet Shop Boys). And it was obviously immensely more difficult to do that a hundred years ago. The book really does have some truly tender and heartbreaking moments throughout.
It is interesting that Whitehall was outraged by the book’s publication in 1928 calling it a “perverted” novel. Others, including Rudyard Kipling, considered it little more than pornography and supported its ban which lasted until 1968. Perhaps the book’s controversial history adds to its appeal today rather than solely the quality of the writing and the story itself. I still feel that it has some poignant comments to make about difference and acceptance today.
I enjoyed reading this dense, weighty novel, however Hall’s earlier work, The Unlit Lamp, captivated me more.
It is interesting that Whitehall was outraged by the book’s publication in 1928 calling it a “perverted” novel. Others, including Rudyard Kipling, considered it little more than pornography and supported its ban which lasted until 1968. Perhaps the book’s controversial history adds to its appeal today rather than solely the quality of the writing and the story itself. I still feel that it has some poignant comments to make about difference and acceptance today.
I enjoyed reading this dense, weighty novel, however Hall’s earlier work, The Unlit Lamp, captivated me more.
July 7, 2016
This book moves slowly and thoughtfully through many shades of tragedy. There's a sort of integrity to it. Not all readers will appreciate the Christian symbolism and theology but I did- the constant please for meaning and acceptance by a sort of outcast. A few times I sort of experienced Stephen as unrelatable because of how ridiculously wealthy she was, but then there were people like Jamie and Barbara to add counterpoint to it, there was just enough shown of the servants to undo the idea that Stephen's class were the important people.
The tragedy was many layered in that Stephen's ill-fated attempts to find a place and meaning in the world crossed over with many other dissatisfied grey figures such as Puddle. Love in the book is rich and not always sexual, but sexuality is important both for identity and as an experience of love and being.
As a 2016 lesbian I find the concept of "inversion" inadequate to understand who/what we are, but I can see that in terms of society's negative and silencing attitudes to the sexually different, this was a way of trying to make sense of it. What is portrayed well in the novel is the way personal worthiness or unworthiness is not the point, it is society that excludes people from full participation. The book is quite judgemental on decadent lifestyles, but shows them as a product, not a cause of the casting out of lgbt folk. There are also the contradictions that are present in most types of prejudice (for example someone can be valued in war-time and then resume their lower status after the war).
I actually wanted to yell at Anna. I was so angry with her and her stupidity. In the time of the book, I suppose her attitude made more sense but she caused pain to herself as well as others. Ditto some other characters. I didn;t always like the way the gender binary was portrayed in the book (especially "women" as weak and helpless) but I could enjoy the small gaps in the text where it verged on questioning or undermining its own authority in these things.
I am nowhere near as strong-minded and courageous let alone as fit and physically strong as Stephen but I related to her and her emotional pain and needs as I relate to few literary characters. For a book so slow-paced and relatively long it held me in its thrall uncommonly well and charmed both joy and tears from me (especially ultimately tears). It seemed a true account of the humanity of lgbt people and a more deep and complex illustration of the idea that "love is love".
The tragedy was many layered in that Stephen's ill-fated attempts to find a place and meaning in the world crossed over with many other dissatisfied grey figures such as Puddle. Love in the book is rich and not always sexual, but sexuality is important both for identity and as an experience of love and being.
As a 2016 lesbian I find the concept of "inversion" inadequate to understand who/what we are, but I can see that in terms of society's negative and silencing attitudes to the sexually different, this was a way of trying to make sense of it. What is portrayed well in the novel is the way personal worthiness or unworthiness is not the point, it is society that excludes people from full participation. The book is quite judgemental on decadent lifestyles, but shows them as a product, not a cause of the casting out of lgbt folk. There are also the contradictions that are present in most types of prejudice (for example someone can be valued in war-time and then resume their lower status after the war).
I actually wanted to yell at Anna. I was so angry with her and her stupidity. In the time of the book, I suppose her attitude made more sense but she caused pain to herself as well as others. Ditto some other characters. I didn;t always like the way the gender binary was portrayed in the book (especially "women" as weak and helpless) but I could enjoy the small gaps in the text where it verged on questioning or undermining its own authority in these things.
I am nowhere near as strong-minded and courageous let alone as fit and physically strong as Stephen but I related to her and her emotional pain and needs as I relate to few literary characters. For a book so slow-paced and relatively long it held me in its thrall uncommonly well and charmed both joy and tears from me (especially ultimately tears). It seemed a true account of the humanity of lgbt people and a more deep and complex illustration of the idea that "love is love".
July 31, 2017
For those who haven't read this book, I'll give a short introduction. The Well of Loneliness is a 1928 novel centred around Stephen, an "invert" born to wealthy, aristocratic parents. The book focuses on her gender and sexuality struggles as she falls in love with various women across her life. It was written to make the general public aware of female homosexuality, in attempt to come into acceptance.
As a preface, I want to acknowledge the immense significance this book has had on the way female homosexuality is viewed in society. Hall essentially invented the stereotypical lesbian figure we recognise today, with masculine clothes and pastimes along with short, cropped hair; this was also the first ever (widely recognised) novel to plainly state a love between two women. Woolf's Orlando came out the same year, also tackling Sapphic themes, yet relied upon allusion and metaphor to describe homosexuality.
Now I've tackled that, I want to say one thing: this book is a bit shit.
Whereas I will say the general writing and structure of the book improves as it progresses, it still is very stilted and awkward. Hall's writing lacks any sort of vivid description or complex imagery; in this circumstance this could be argued as a positive as it would avoid the queerness only be "implied", but this is nulled as Stephen doesn't ever, inwardly or externally, claim her sexuality through words. Moreover, for a book aiming to make the public aware of female homosexuality, there is a void of any sex, only the line "and that night, they were not divided".
More significantly, despite struggling with gender and her place as a woman in society, Hall still endorses typical marital and gender roles within the book. Stephen, as the "male" figure, wins the bread and sets the rules of the house, "I won't have it". Mary, as the "female" figure, runs the household and, as a woman, is not able to be satisfied with their love alone - she obviously also must have children.
This dissatisfaction within all the queer relationships was carried throughout the novel. Through this and Stephen's overt self-hatred, Hall depicted the lesbian experience as a largely negative one, confirmed by the miserable endings to each relationship. As a closeted lesbian in a Catholic household, Stephen's plea for acceptance at the end is very striking - she wants to be accepted by both God and society. However, at the end I was still confused - was Stephen's ending miserable because society couldn't accept her, or because gay female relationships are always doomed to fail? As a book trying to promote the healthiness of homosexual relationships, I feel there should be no ambiguity.
I don't really want to analyse and label Hall or Stephen too much, but it does have to be said that Hall strongly believed in the sexology theory of "inverts", one of the first theories and labels of homosexuality. An invert, the theory stated, was a man born in a woman's body (or vice versa) and so was only attracted to the same sex as a tangent of that. In this sense, Hall was more likely our now definition of transgender, which greatly impacted the tone of the book, as a lot of her self-hatred stemmed from awkwardness about her body and (arguably) penis-envy of the boys around her.
I also don't really want to go into Radclyffe Hall's other political views in detail here here, as they were questionable at best (think anti-Semitic fascist), but Stephen's disregard and mocking of other minorities was painfully ironic and it's unfortunate that this woman and book is the one to have such a cultural impact. ("Evolving races"…. Yikes).
Even LGBT figures at the time even disagreed with its portrayal of the lesbian experience, claiming that not every woman-loving-woman experience was miserable, and criticised Hall for showing a very limited depiction of a lesbian couple. However, overall, this book is a good insight into the non-Freudian psychology around homosexuality, or "inverts", that was developing at the time, as well as general views regarding queerness. Hall should also be celebrated for her use of war imagery connect the plight of this minority to the general audience, all who had suffered only a short time before, and for creating the basis for all female gay literature for years to come, even if the literary quality of this book can be put into question.
As a preface, I want to acknowledge the immense significance this book has had on the way female homosexuality is viewed in society. Hall essentially invented the stereotypical lesbian figure we recognise today, with masculine clothes and pastimes along with short, cropped hair; this was also the first ever (widely recognised) novel to plainly state a love between two women. Woolf's Orlando came out the same year, also tackling Sapphic themes, yet relied upon allusion and metaphor to describe homosexuality.
Now I've tackled that, I want to say one thing: this book is a bit shit.
Whereas I will say the general writing and structure of the book improves as it progresses, it still is very stilted and awkward. Hall's writing lacks any sort of vivid description or complex imagery; in this circumstance this could be argued as a positive as it would avoid the queerness only be "implied", but this is nulled as Stephen doesn't ever, inwardly or externally, claim her sexuality through words. Moreover, for a book aiming to make the public aware of female homosexuality, there is a void of any sex, only the line "and that night, they were not divided".
More significantly, despite struggling with gender and her place as a woman in society, Hall still endorses typical marital and gender roles within the book. Stephen, as the "male" figure, wins the bread and sets the rules of the house, "I won't have it". Mary, as the "female" figure, runs the household and, as a woman, is not able to be satisfied with their love alone - she obviously also must have children.
This dissatisfaction within all the queer relationships was carried throughout the novel. Through this and Stephen's overt self-hatred, Hall depicted the lesbian experience as a largely negative one, confirmed by the miserable endings to each relationship. As a closeted lesbian in a Catholic household, Stephen's plea for acceptance at the end is very striking - she wants to be accepted by both God and society. However, at the end I was still confused - was Stephen's ending miserable because society couldn't accept her, or because gay female relationships are always doomed to fail? As a book trying to promote the healthiness of homosexual relationships, I feel there should be no ambiguity.
I don't really want to analyse and label Hall or Stephen too much, but it does have to be said that Hall strongly believed in the sexology theory of "inverts", one of the first theories and labels of homosexuality. An invert, the theory stated, was a man born in a woman's body (or vice versa) and so was only attracted to the same sex as a tangent of that. In this sense, Hall was more likely our now definition of transgender, which greatly impacted the tone of the book, as a lot of her self-hatred stemmed from awkwardness about her body and (arguably) penis-envy of the boys around her.
I also don't really want to go into Radclyffe Hall's other political views in detail here here, as they were questionable at best (think anti-Semitic fascist), but Stephen's disregard and mocking of other minorities was painfully ironic and it's unfortunate that this woman and book is the one to have such a cultural impact. ("Evolving races"…. Yikes).
Even LGBT figures at the time even disagreed with its portrayal of the lesbian experience, claiming that not every woman-loving-woman experience was miserable, and criticised Hall for showing a very limited depiction of a lesbian couple. However, overall, this book is a good insight into the non-Freudian psychology around homosexuality, or "inverts", that was developing at the time, as well as general views regarding queerness. Hall should also be celebrated for her use of war imagery connect the plight of this minority to the general audience, all who had suffered only a short time before, and for creating the basis for all female gay literature for years to come, even if the literary quality of this book can be put into question.
March 4, 2021
Hours later I wondered if some of my review was too abstract, and so I try again :)
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4.5 stars, 5 stars for well over half the novel, and 4 for the rest. This review is for the unabridged audiobook https://play.google.com/store/audiobo...
Stephen Gordon is born in a body that restricts her to the person she yearns to be and the life she wants to live. The novel refers to Stephen as an invert, a term I had to google, as my best guess would have been transgender, which is a fairly recent concept and not around when this novel was published in 1928.
From the start, there is a sense of tragedy, maybe I got this more from the audiobook’s narrator, Laura Kirman, than the text itself. Listening to it, from the go I had the sense that something awful was about to happen to eventually realise this is the tone for the entire book. So, for over half of it, I was completely caught up in the suspense, first I was wondering how would Stephen work out why she felt so different. Her father, Sir Phillip had guessed, and so had her second home tutor, Puddle, whilst young Stephen continues and yet aware there’s something different about her in how the town responds to her and treats her.
Throughout, the tragic is counterbalanced with how beautifully and well observed this tale is told, it’s a vast narrative that also touches on the themes of hope and belief; wanting to be accepted by society and god; motherhood and the bond she feels with her child; loyalty and friendship; the awfulness of World War I; and the right to love, protect what you love and be loved.
This was published in the same year as Orlando in 1928, but it would face censorship and not be reinstated for another two decades, if I was to guess I think it’s because Stephen Gordon so blatantly rejects the sexual identity she is born with. A quick Google search tells me this novel has not been censored since, this is a good thing because through Stephen Gordon, Radclyffe Hall broadly shows how prejudice is created between the complex dynamics of identity, language and the status quo. In how this story unfolds I too could see the plight that was set before Stephen Gordon, ahead of her lay a long and difficult road in wanting to be true to herself. This is tough as others are trying to whittle her down to conform to their ways but not seeing the courage it takes to resist. So, to the end I was hooked wondering if Stephen Gordon would be requested the one small thing she asks for, to simply be accepted as she is.
========
4.5 stars, 5 stars for well over half the novel, and 4 for the rest. This review is for the unabridged audiobook https://play.google.com/store/audiobo...
Stephen Gordon is born in a body that restricts her to the person she yearns to be and the life she wants to live. The novel refers to Stephen as an invert, a term I had to google, as my best guess would have been transgender, which is a fairly recent concept and not around when this novel was published in 1928.
From the start, there is a sense of tragedy, maybe I got this more from the audiobook’s narrator, Laura Kirman, than the text itself. Listening to it, from the go I had the sense that something awful was about to happen to eventually realise this is the tone for the entire book. So, for over half of it, I was completely caught up in the suspense, first I was wondering how would Stephen work out why she felt so different. Her father, Sir Phillip had guessed, and so had her second home tutor, Puddle, whilst young Stephen continues and yet aware there’s something different about her in how the town responds to her and treats her.
Throughout, the tragic is counterbalanced with how beautifully and well observed this tale is told, it’s a vast narrative that also touches on the themes of hope and belief; wanting to be accepted by society and god; motherhood and the bond she feels with her child; loyalty and friendship; the awfulness of World War I; and the right to love, protect what you love and be loved.
This was published in the same year as Orlando in 1928, but it would face censorship and not be reinstated for another two decades, if I was to guess I think it’s because Stephen Gordon so blatantly rejects the sexual identity she is born with. A quick Google search tells me this novel has not been censored since, this is a good thing because through Stephen Gordon, Radclyffe Hall broadly shows how prejudice is created between the complex dynamics of identity, language and the status quo. In how this story unfolds I too could see the plight that was set before Stephen Gordon, ahead of her lay a long and difficult road in wanting to be true to herself. This is tough as others are trying to whittle her down to conform to their ways but not seeing the courage it takes to resist. So, to the end I was hooked wondering if Stephen Gordon would be requested the one small thing she asks for, to simply be accepted as she is.
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