Dear daughter, I confess that I am old;
Age is unnecessary.
These lines from King Lear, written centuries ago, still apply to our society’s attitude towards age. It is viewed as undesirable and terrifying. And it can be, but not for the obvious reasons. Growing old is difficult because others make it so. They make a person feel invisible, unwanted, by locking them away; sometimes they infantilize them, believing they’re no longer adults capable of making their own decisions. At other times, they fire them from their jobs because they think their capabilities have dulled. At the heart of this treatment is the institution of family. A microcosm of society.
Louise Bickford, the protagonist of The Winds of Heaven, is only fifty-seven but wanders without purpose because what she was raised to be -wife and mother- is now fulfilled. She has three daughters: Miriam, Eva, and Anne. Her husband Dudley, who treated her appallingly, complicated her life even in death by leaving her riddled with debt. Louise lost everything, including her home, and now has to be passed over from one daughter to another as if she were a hand grenade. Miriam and her husband Arthur are the worst offenders; rigid and patronizing, they make Louise feel that she’s always in the way. In one of the most painful scenes in the book, Miriam asks Eva in front of everyone -at Louise’s birthday party no less- when she’s going to take Mother with her, all under a mask of politeness.
Her granddaughter Ellen, also an outcast in the family, is the only one who loves her best and treats her with consideration. They can be together without criticisms or expectations. They understand each other. My favourite passages take place when Louise is staying for the winter at the hotel of an old friend:
“Darling Ellen, here I am, and everything is just the same as last year, including Goldie. I like it, except that I wish you were here too,” she wrote, and meant it. She wanted to be with Ellen now more than ever. She wanted to take her away from her invidious position and make up to her with love for the wrong that had been done to her.
(...)
Perhaps, after all, she was silly to worry so much about her family. However much she worried from the other side of the Solent, it would make no difference to them. They would carry on their lives without her, pausing now and then, she hoped, to say, “I wonder how Mother is getting on.” The winter would pass, and perhaps when she went back, everything would be all right.
Not Ellen, though. Ellen would never be all right. I must not die until she’s grown up and married, Louise thought. Whatever happens, I must not die and leave her. She cared for Ellen more than she had ever cared for any of her children, and she knew, guiltily, that Ellen loved her better than her own mother.
Louise also forms an unlikely friendship with Gordon Disher, a bed salesman and, incongruously, writer of pulp fiction. Though for me, their bond paled in comparison with Louise and Ellen’s. Every time Mr. Disher was mentioned, so was his weight. It made me uncomfortable but I let it pass because the book worked well overall.
What didn’t work was Eva’s predictable romance with a married man and the characters of Anne and her husband Frank, which weren’t well-developed. All I can say about Anne is that she’s apathetic and Frank a simple, good-hearted country boy. Their characterizations didn’t ring as true as the others.
I have seen criticisms of Louise’s character, unjustified in my opinion. Louise has been belittled and steamrolled all her life, so it makes sense that she’s timid and insecure. We’re so accustomed to the “strong female character” trope that any other character that doesn’t fit into that mold is condemned as anti-feminist. Louise Bickford is a well-rounded character, not a cliché, and therefore much more interesting. She’s allowed to be human, which should be the goal of feminist literature.
In short, The Winds of Heaven enthralled me. Nothing much happens, but the interactions among the characters were complex and real. More importantly, it highlighted the problem of how we treat others, especially those who are at a disadvantage. Thanks to Persephone Books for rescuing this gem from obscurity.