Victorians! discussion

Links to “The Story of Salome:”

Project Gutenberg: (see Table of Contents) https://gutenberg.net.au/ebooks06/060...

Internet Archive: Monsieur Maurice V2: https://archive.org/details/monsieurm...
Scroll to page 222 of the scan.

YouTube: https://youtu.be/u2_ASE0muJk?si=1pbCj...

**Be aware that this story is laced with some of the antisemitism of the time.**

Summary of “The Story of Salome:”

The Story of Salome
The narrator recounts the tale of Salome, the beloved of his romantic friend, Coventry Turnour. Salome is the beautiful, stately, Jewess who runs her father’s jewelry shop in Venice. The mercurial Turnour swears to convert and marry the object of his affection, but, before long, has fallen out of love again and the fellows continue on their travels.

Later, fickle Turnour becomes finally gets engaged and Blunt makes his way to Venice for another glimpse of the fair Salome. However, the jewelry shop and its owners can no longer be found. Yet, our narrator hints that he will see the beauty once again in the future.

A year passes and the narrator retreats to Venice for a period of restful sketching. As he and his gondolier explore the canals, they travel as far as the Lido where they find a Jewish cemetery, separate from the Christian cemeteries of the city. As he wanders among the graves, Blunt becomes aware of a woman sitting quietly beside a grave. He recognizes her as Salome, looking pale and worn, yet (somehow?!) more beautiful than he remembered.

His curiosity leads him to make a rubbing of the gravestone, which he intends to have translated. While awaiting the translation, the (clearly obsessed) narrator travels back to the cemetery and again sees the beautiful Salome at the gravesite. Again, they do not speak, and again, he loses sight of her in the darkness.

On his third trip to the cemetery, Salome speaks to him. She asks him to perform an act of piety, saying a Christian prayer over the grave of a Christian soul who has been buried there. Although Blunt finds this a strange request and still does not know the name of the deceased, he feels compelled to do as he has been tasked, traveling back into Venice to secure a clergyman and a stonemason’s tools. (Due to the changing position of the Venetian Jews, the stonemasons refused to perform the sacrilege of cutting a cross into the gravestone.)

After the rites are completed, the narrator returns to his rooms and finds that the translation of the headstone has been completed. The grave is not that of Issac da Costa, but of Salome da Costa, his daughter. Stunned, the narrator seeks out the chief rabbi of the district, who confirms the identity of the deceased. In answer to his questions, the rabbi admits that although Salome did not profess a change of religion, he has heard that she may have had doubts. The narrator has no doubts that he has met with the ghost of the woman with whom he has become obsessed. He returns to Venice again and again in hopes of meeting her once more.

One thought above all struck me with this one - people can act such fools. On the account of Turnour, for his ardent & wanton pedestaling and projecting onto his next object of desire, and for the narrator - Blunt - to posit that a woman of such a tight knit community would have no one in a crisis so that he should enter her life to be of aid. Bizarre, and perhaps a cultural blind spot that was purposeful as a plot device. The names of each character are so oddly comical I almost think Edwards was indeed making a bit of a wry jest. (Or maybe I just overthink everything.)

This hit a strange note only because I think I dislike the characters as I haven't in the other stories. I am, however, intrigued by the idea that Turnour, his character being the flighty cad, did succeed in gaining her favor, and she went so far as to convert, but he then abandoned her. Perhaps she died months later of a broken heart. The narrator did specifically mention he was ignorant the details of the affair involving the two, the lingering question in context being, why did she secretly convert? This is an obvious conclusion? Or am I again overthinking.

What I personally enjoyed most were the remembrances this one brought back for me. I spent some time living in Veneto, just outside Venice, and got lost in those winding streets and 'canaletti' more than a few times, late at night, too. It was bittersweet to revisit.

I wondered about the names as well. They were often a device employed by Victorian writers. Both Dickens and Trollope employed this tact freely and with memorable results.

This is another of AE’s stories that reminds me of Poe, with its haunting beauty unreachable beyond the pale of death.

On the subject of religion, I think the implication is that her Christian suitor was working towards converting her so they could marry. And that she had converted in her heart, if not formally. I completely agree that she may have died primarily from a broken heart. After all, she had invested her heart and soul, whilst he was off again in pursuit of fresh adventure and romance.

I also think it’s interesting that the narrator, Blunt, is the one who became the devoted one. I’m not sure that AE had a message in mind, but certainly Blunt and Salome were irreparably affected, while Turnour flitted on.

They definitely were more caricatured than other names she used which is why it got me thinking about the piece as a whole.

Definitely, with the Poe, the sorrow & wistfulness was dissolved throughout.

I did like that turn of things as it gave a little bit of a haunted-ness to his life. What was it that compelled him on? Can her spirit have bewitched him, the effects growing stronger as she drew him near again and again until he did what she desired from beyond? Interesting dimension there.

Im intrigued by that perspective. Nice.

I'm glad that Blunt had the persistance to carry out her wishes. Poor girl!

With Turnour, I immediately thought of Bertie Wooster’s love sick friends from the Drones club who were always falling in love with waitresses, shop girls, actresses etc, usually one per week.
Here is an example……

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbsJo...

….and the TV adaptation with Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry…..

https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x89...

Blunt was more like Dr. Watson from Sherlock Holmes, with his dogged earnestness and sincerity.

The personalities of the characters did carry more depth in this story as did the overall atmosphere of Venice, which I have visited once, including a trip out into the lagoon.

The tragic Salome might have died of a broken heart with Turnour being possibly prevented from contacting her by her family. At first I thought she may have been killed to prevent her marrying a Christian but her actions and words when confronting Blunt did not convey that.

This story had an languid yet ominous quality, like the lapping waters of Venice’s canals. Before the final revelation of the tombstone’s meaning, the text edged more and more towards conveying the fact that Salome was a ghost wandering about the graveyard.

Trev wrote: "This story had an languid yet ominous quality, like the lapping waters of Venice’s canals. Before the final revelation of the tombstone’s meaning, the text edged more and more towards conveying the fact that Salome was in a ghost wandering about the graveyard. "

“Languid, yet ominous” perfectly describes the tone of this one.

I love the analogy of the lovesick drone!

Trev, I had the exact same thought about Turnour and Bertie Wooster’s friends. I liked the story, as I have liked the others we’ve read, but until I read everyone’s comments it didn’t occur to me that Salome converted to Christianity because of Turnour. The sequence of events at the beginning of the story was too unclear for me to realize that there had been enough time for a romance and a religious conversion, especially with Salome’s dignified and cool character. Also, the impulsive Turnour seemed an unlikely match for her, especially since her father seemed to guard her zealously. These are minor complaints in a story that was still a good read.