Mrs. Oscar Wilde: A Woman of Some Importance

by anne-clark-amor

Paperback

Published January 1, 1988

Reviews

[Rosie · Rating 2 out of 5]

Hmm. My thoughts on this book aren’t very charitable, unfortunately. The writing style isn’t anything special and at times feels inelegant and clumsy, as if it’s trying too hard to be what it’s not. This was published in 1983, by a woman, so I expected at least the suggestion of a feminist influence, but I found none, besides, of course, a respect for Constance’s strength of character and the reasonableness of her decisions, but these are basic enough considerations to be a matter of course. I found that there were some instances that Amor cited things as facts which I know, from previous reading, have been disproven (such as, on page 180, when she recounts the interaction between Frank Harris and Oscar Wilde where Harris learns Wilde is not innocence of the crimes he has been convicted of, and Harris, though shocked, says that it doesn’t change anything about their friendship—this was fabricated by Harris, according to my previous reading), which makes me wonder whether she should have done a bit more research. Additionally, sometimes she cited as facts things which seemed to me wholly matters of opinion, and when I looked for an endnote indicator, to see whether she had a reference, there were none. Amor was also very uncharitable to Alfred Douglas, to the point of sheer stupidity, as she refused to see him as a complex person rather than as an evil, one-dimensional villain whose entire goal in life was to cause Oscar’s complete ruin. This seemed to me not merely annoying, but also simply bad scholarship. Perhaps it can be explained by the fact that this was how Constance perceived him, so Amor, being so mired in Constance’s perspective from studying her for this book, took on her view of the matter. There almost seemed to be a touch of homophobia in her merciless treatment of Douglas, and the manner in which she championed Oscar’s relationship with Constance.

There were, of course, positives to this book. I found it interesting and it was insightful to see this series of events from the perspective of Constance. I knew nothing about her political activities and efforts for women’s dress reform, which I thought very admirable. I learned more about her character through reading this than I knew before, and now I’m able to dismiss with evidence the rather mean and sexist things that have been said of her by biographers of Oscar. In the end, I did feel that there must have been a certain lack of information on her life, as oftentimes great segments of time are disposed of in a few sentences, and Oscar’s affairs are frequently described in place of hers; though, of course, usually that is necessary to understand what’s going on with her.

Overall, I would recommend this book to any person interested in learning more about Constance Wilde and seeing a different point of view on the family affairs, but I wouldn’t recommend it on the force of it being unbiased, wholly accurate in all respects, or incredibly compelling in writing style.

Quotations:

“Frank Harris’ books contain many statements which are demonstrably untrue, and allowance has to be made for his exaggerated style of reporting conversations. He habitually imputed the worst possible motives to Oscar and the best to himself. It has been proved, moreover, that at the time of the alleged conversation Harris was many miles away.” (62)

“Unfortunately the character that lay behind that perfect exterior was neither frank, innocent nor childlike. In years he was young; in dissipation and experience of the world’s vices, Lord ALfred Douglas was as old as the hills. He was spoilt, selfish, a reckless spendthrift and an idler of the worst kind. Rarely has there been a disposition with so little to commend it and so much to condemn. The best one could say of him is that to a degree his upbringing was to blame.” (109) Here is the first example of what I speak of above; Amor’s exceedingly harsh treatment of Douglas. She allows no recourse to his positive characteristics and seems unwilling to examine what made him act the way he did. Also, what exactly does she mean by “experience of the world’s vices”? Besides being extravagant and gay, I can’t see what she means, in which case this is an example of unconscious homophobia on Amor’s part.

“Ever since his infancy, Bosie had hated his father. Life for him was one long running battle in which he hoped to see his father humiliated. Outwardly he always pretended to be his mother’s champion, but in reality it was on his own account. [I would like some evidence for this, please. But there are no reference markers here whatsoever.] Each saw wrongdoing in the other and claimed justification on those grounds. The fact is that it was a case of two evils [italics mine] in sharp conflict. Bosie, indolent and selfish, spendthrift and amoral, hated his father in a fierce and bitter way. He was incapable of love while hatred remained his strongest passion [italics mine]. Yet the world, recognizing his father for a madman, tended to take the part of the beautiful young man.” (110) Well, then. I suppose Bosie is evil and incapable of love. That really is a cruel thing to say of someone, and baseless. He did love Wilde in his own way.

“In all respects except one Oscar’s was the strong personality and Bosie’s the weak. But Bosie’s apparent weakness was that of the parasite whose strongest instinct is for self-preservation. Oscar, on the other hand, was by nature and upbringing the generous protector of the weak. . . By some unerring instinct Bosie realized that he could triumph over the strong man, and this drew him to Oscar like a magnet.”” (112) If I were Bosie, I would sue Amor for libel. She has even called him a parasite!

“What was happening now at the house at Babbacombe in her absence went much deeper than any question of mere homosexuality. There was nothing rare or new about the physical relationship that, unbeknown to Constance, had sprung up between her husband and the gilt-haired young lord. Men have been making love to men since time began. The young were recruited to its secret mysteries in the public schools of England. Such a life for grown men who moved in society was a series of calculated gambles, like a game of Monopoly, but with rules that changed from time to time. The man who had established himself in Park Lane or Mayfair might seem unassailable, but a wrong throw of the dice could send a player directly to jail, without even the chance to pick up his cash en route. The player who suddenly finds that he is expected to play by the Queensberry rules is understandably confused.” (120-1) This reads like Amor is trying to cover her bases so not to be accused of homophobia.

“The real danger lay in the fact that Oscar had allowed himself to fall under the dominion of an evil young man who did not release him until he had brought down the house of Wilde [italics mine].” (121) Now this is extremely uncharitable and seems to me an exaggeration and a complete misunderstanding of Douglas, as he did love Wilde. It’s crazy that she’s calling him evil.

“After his visit to Oscar at the Savoy Bosie went to Germany, but before departing for the continent he gave away one of his suits to an unemployed man called Wood. In the pocket of the suit was a bundle of Oscar’s letters to him. Most of them could be regarded as highly incriminating, and it is frankly difficult to imagine that this was an accident. One letter, even two, might conceivably have been the result of carelessness; but a whole set of them can hardly have come into Wood’s possession by mistake. The inference is clear: Lord Alfred Douglas gave them to Wood deliberately, either in one of those moments of malicious rage to which he was subject or, as is more likely, as part of a deliberate plan to extort money from Oscar, with a cut of the proceeds for himself.” (124) This is new information to me. If only there was a source citation. Isn’t that proper procedure for biographies? And I fail to see how the latter is more likely than the former, unless one takes the most uncharitable view of Douglas possible.

“In theory at least, Oscar detested the stormy nature of his relationship with Bosie. In reality, though, it was probably these emotional scenes that kept the relationship alive. It was a part of Oscar’s essential make-up to require new and stimulating experiences, and the continual quarrels and dramatic reunions prevented the friendship [friendship?!] from becoming dull. In Constance’s case her reasonableness was her undoing. An occasional explosive response on her part might well have achieved what tolerance and understanding could not. Bosie by his impossible behaviour had achieved complete ascendancy over Oscar. Constance not only never achieved such ascendancy, but never even sought it. To her, Oscar’s genius explained all.” (146) I think this is accurate.

“Until his dying day, Lord Alfred Douglas blamed Clarke for not calling him into the witness-box. He always maintained that had he been allowed to make the court aware of his father’s callousness to his family, of his insane behaviour which amounted to nothing short of persecution, Oscar would have won the case. He failed to see that all this was totally irrelevant. The point at issue was not whether Queensberry treated his family well or ill, not whether he cared for them or not, but quite simply whether or not he was guilty of libelling Oscar Wilde. Clarke fully realized this, and made the right decision. By maintaining his refusal Clarke effectively robbed Bosie of the one thing he had looked to in all this, the chance to confront the father he hated in open court.” (168) Is that true, though? Whether or not it was the subject of the court case is irrelevant; the fact is, it is information which might have predisposed the jury and judge to be more charitable towards Wilde, which may have affected the outcome. And despite Amor’s acknowledgement that Queensberry was a horrendous man, she seems to be putting a tone of judgement towards the fact that Bosie hated his father. I think he had a perfect right to hate him, if all that is said of him was true!

“It is difficult to say which of the boys suffered worse, Cyril who knew the truth and was permanently saddened by it, or Vyvyan, who was eighteen years old before he learned what had happened to his father. Instead Vyvyan found his secure, happy childhood converted to a strange nightmare in which he was unable to comprehend other people’s attitudes towards himself and his brother.” (172)

“There had been no evidence that Oscar had corrupted anybody. He had been convicted on the unsupported testimony of blackmailers, for ‘crimes’ which ten years ago had been no crime, and which were not regarded by any other European country of the day as criminal. Once the verdict of the jury was made known, the judge allowed all his prejudices to surface, and reacted with a brutality which was perhaps predictable. He had shown the world that he regarded homosexuality as disgusting and obscene and, despite his remarks about Lord Alfred Douglas, must have been well aware of the immunity from prosecution that privilege and influence would buy.” (182)

“Andre Gide once wrote of Lord Alfred Douglas, ‘I was questioning him one day about Wilde’s two sons; he laid great stress on the beauty of Cyril (I think) who was quite young at the time, and then whispered with a self-satisfied smile, “He will be for me.”’ Many of Gide’s tales about Wilde have subsequently been exposed as untrue, and there may or may not be a firm foundation for this story. If it is true, there is no doubt that Oscar, had he been aware of it, would have reacted violently, for he loved Cyril more than any other human being. Nevertheless, the sordid little tale puts into words exactly the kind of fear of his friends which obsessed Constance, and all her protective instincts now came to the fore.” (183) I’m glad to hear that this is likely to be untrue. I didn’t know that many of Gide’s stories about Wilde turned out to be false! I wish Amor told us who disproved them and where. My guess is Sherard?

“Oscar’s friends were further subdivided. One camp was occupied almost exclusively by Bosie, how quickly re-emerged in his true colours after a brief period of mourning his champion’s defeat at the hands of the father he hated. [Yes, yes, we get it; he hated his dad. Now, can you please shut up about it?] Soon he lost even Oscar’s sympathy; his letters swiftly ceased altogether and he began pawning Oscar’s gifts and selling news stories about their friendship to the papers. Oscar had to ask his friend Robert Sherard to prevent Bosie from publishing his letters to him from prison in the Mercure de France. He saw that Bosie was now wearing their friendship like a flower in his buttonhole, and he resented it bitterly.” (183-4)

(Now, I’m pretty sure this is a gross misrepresentation. According to Bernard Shaw & Alfred Douglas: A Correspondence, Bosie was carrying on a campaign of letters in support of Wilde and homosexuality; “In August Douglas was still deep in his writing campaign, working on an article requested by the Mercure de France, an eloquent and poetic argument in support of Wilde. It included three beautiful but compromising letters from Wilde, one written the night before the final session of the libel trial, one while Wilde was on bail between the second and third trials, and one written while Taylor was being tried. Robert Sherard, who lived in Paris, a devoted friend of Wilde though not a member of the coterie, cautioned Douglas—without success—against using the letters. Shortly after this, Sherard visited Wilde in prison and, during their twenty minutes together, told Wilde of Douglas’s proposed article. Wilde was horrified to hear that Douglas intended to publish his intimate letters and begged Sherard to stop him. When Sherard returned to Paris he was able to persuade the Mercure de France to omit the letters, but Douglas refused to publish the article without them. Thus it was never published, though typescripts survive.” (xix) So, you see, he wasn’t “selling news stories about their friendship to the papers”, in a selfish and fiscally motivated way, but was trying to defend Wilde using the beautiful letters Wilde wrote to him. Amor always imputes the worst possible interpretations to Douglas’ conduct.)

“Bosie claimed that a letter from Constance to Oscar finished all chance of reconciliation and killed all that remained of his love for her. He also placed the entire blame for Oscar’s reconciliation with him in Naples on her shoulders, for he claimed that if she had not written that fatal letter to Socar he would never have gone to Naples. [That may be so.] He saw Constance’s actions as a profound disservice to himself, for he felt that his relationship with Oscar not only stood between him and his father’s allowance, but also damaged him in the eyes of society. [Well, it’s true.] No wonder Constance referred to this unfortunate specimen [italics mine] in terms of loathing and anger.” (219) Jesus Christ, Amor really fucking hates Douglas. Her use of “no wonder” tells us that she also feels loathing and anger towards him—which is no shock, considering the way she has spoken of him throughout this book.

“He ended with uncertainties about his future life, and hoping that he might be allowed to stay on at his school. He added that he had a guardian who was nice although he scarcely knew him. His touching concern for his brother showed a far greater maturity than Cyril’s, though he was the younger of the two.” (225) I don’t see how it shows a “far greater maturity” than Cyril’s. This just seems to me kind of brown-nosey of Amor. It’s mature, sure, but it’s rather weird for her to impute based off of a single letter where Vyvyan expresses worry about his brother that he’s far maturer than him. Odd. Does she have something against Cyril or something?

“Between them Robbie and Reggie Turner nursed Oscar. Robbie, not realizing the full seriousness of the situation, left Paris on business and had to be sent for. It was he who summoned a priest and arranged for him to be received into the Roman Catholic Church. Oscar was by now scarcely conscious, so that it is doubtful whether he really understood what was going on; but he had long wished to take this step, and it is beyond all doubt that this is what in his heart he really wished.” (228) Now, that is not true; Robbie or Reggie asked him to make certain gestures if he agreed to this, and he did so, so they didn’t just call for a priest without his consent. How does Amor not know this?! I’m not even a Wildean scholar, and yet, from just a couple of weeks of reading up on him, I am aware of this.

“Robbie had sent [Bosie] Oscar’s letter, De Profundis, which he had written while in Reading Gaol, and Bosie had been so angry at its contents that he destroyed it. Fortunately Robbie had sent him only a typescript.” (229) Amor provides no source whatsoever for this supposed fact, and I really would like to know where it comes from, as, as far as I know, Bosie claimed, until the very end of his life, that he never received the letter. I think this is Amor’s own assumption or inference, lacking in evidence and based on her own uncharitable interpretation of Douglas’ character.

“Of course she would have avoided the pain if she could; yet not at the cost of her great and enduring love. Her proper role in life was simply to be Mrs Oscar Wilde.” (229) See, this is one of the moments in this book that most displays its total (and surprising) lack of a feminist influence. The phrasing of that last sentence is very strange and rather discomforting. “Her proper role in life”? I don’t know about that. It was her role, she was mostly happy with it during the golden years, and things went downhill for her as soon as she could no longer be it, but I don’t know about calling it her “proper role”. Especially with that “Mrs Oscar Wilde” that subsumes the woman’s identity beneath her husband’s.