Women and independence

During the two long lockdowns that were imposed in the UK during the Covid-19 pandemic, I – like many others in the population – took to going for long walks most days. Limited to the routes I could take, to alleviate the boredom I started listening to podcasts, one of which – Backlisted – became a favourite.

Backlisted (backlisted.fm), the strapline of which is ‘Giving new life to old books’, is the work of two avid readers, John Mitchinson and Andy Miller. John and Andy’s engaging and interesting discussions of their chosen books with special guests provided a welcome soundscape to many of my walks. Whilst some of the books they discuss are ones that I have read and know well (Emile Zola’s Therese Raquin and Edith Nesbit’s The Railway Children are two such examples), others were unknown to me and whetted my reading appetite.

One novel that I was inspired to read by Backlisted was George Gissing’s The Odd Women. Published in 1893, Gissing’s novel explores the situation of the unmarried woman in late Victorian England. Early in the novel one of the characters, Rhoda Nunn, points out how the demographics of England put women at a significant disadvantage where marriage is concerned: ‘there are half a million more women than men in this happy country of ours…So many odd women – no making a pair with them’.

What these ‘odd women’ should do with their lives – and how they might manage to live independently – is Gissing’s subject. The story revolves around the six Madden sisters who, at the end of the opening chapter, are left orphaned and impoverished following the unexpected death of their doctor father. The narrative then leaps forward sixteen years: three of the sisters have now died (variously from illness, accident and suicide) and the other three (the two eldest and the youngest) are in a state of poverty and distress. Chapter 2 opens with the second sister, Virginia, arriving to take up cheap lodgings in South West London having lost her employment as a lady’s companion following the same lady’s death. Shortly afterwards she is joined by her elder sister, Alice, recently unemployed after working for a number of years as a nursery governess as her charges have all gone off to school. Both sisters have come to London to be near their youngest sister, Monica, who is working in a draper’s in South East London.

Alice and Virginia are both in their mid-30s. By Victorian standards they are past their prime and have had to abandon any hopes of marriage. As the narrator notes: ‘Alice, if she had ever dreamt of marriage, must by now have resigned herself to spinsterhood. Virginia could scarce hope that her faded prettiness… would attract any man in search of a wife.’ Monica, however, being only 20 and ‘a pretty, cheerful, engaging girl’ is, her sisters are confident, ‘sure to marry’.

And marriage appeals to Monica. She does not enjoy her job, and knows men find her attractive, although she is concerned about her chances of finding ‘a man whom she could respect – not to say love’ But shortly after this reflection Monica does meet one – Edmund Widdowson, a man significantly older than her, but ‘whose social standing she could respect’, her respect for him being bolstered by his comparative wealth of ‘six hundred a year. ’ However, whilst Widdowson ‘rescues’ her from her current existence, she replaces the captivity of employment for the captivity of marriage to an obsessively jealous and controlling man.

Presented in contrast to the Madden sisters’ restricted life choices are two independent women of a similar age to them: Rhoda Nunn, mentioned above, who met the sisters just before their father’s death, and who contacts them when she discovers they are living in London; and her friend Mary Barfoot. Mary and Rhoda have set up an establishment to train young women in office work (typing, shorthand accounts) so that they are able to lead an independent existence. With their attention solely on middle-class women like themselves, Rhoda and Mary believe women should not marry simply to be supported. Instead, they should support themselves through education and work. Mary believes that ‘whatever man could do, woman could do equally well’, and as well as training women for the world of business ‘with help from her purse, two girls were preparing themselves to be pharmaceutical chemists; two others had been aided …. to open a bookseller’s shop’. Rhoda believes that in addition women should be educated in ‘self-respect and self-restraint’, that the idea of falling in love is a delusion and that, if women marry, it should be later in life when it can be ‘an alliance of intellects – not a means of support, or something more ignoble still’.

However, Gissing makes it clear that Mary and Rhoda have a distinct advantage over the Madden sisters – and many other women – because their comparative wealth enables this independence. From the deaths of a number of close relatives Mary has ‘come into possession of a modest fortune’ whilst Rhoda was left a ‘little sum of money’ by her mother which enabled her to leave the teaching job she despised and learn ‘Shorthand, book-keeping, commercial correspondence’. It is also implied that economic independence has helped Rhoda maintain her looks – whilst only slightly younger than Virginia, she ‘was yet far from presenting any sorrowful image of a person on the way to old-maidenhood’.

Alice and Virginia are presented as desiring to move independently; when they arrive in London they do a calculation of their remaining finances. Alice thinks that if they restrict themselves to spending no more than fourpence a day then, ‘strictly speaking, we are independent for another six months’. That word gave Virginia an obvious thrill. Independent! Oh, Alice, what a blessed thing is independence!’

But Gissing makes clear that any independence which is not grounded in financial stability is a delusion. The sisters’ decision to follow a vegetarian diet – a radical choice for the time – is little more than a cover for poverty: as the narrator writes, Alice and Virginia ‘tried to delude themselves; professing that no diet could be better for their particular needs than this which poverty imposed’. On one day their midday meal – ‘the substantial repast of the day’ – is simply ‘rice… made savoury with a little butter, pepper, and salt’ and another time the rice is exchanged for ‘mashed potatoes and milk’. When Virginia goes to visit Rhoda, she is invited to dine with her and, whilst she initially refuses meat, ‘alleging her vegetarianism’, it doesn’t take Rhoda long to persuade her to eat ‘[a] slice of good beef’ which has a most welcome effect on her – ‘She brightened wonderfully’.

The reference to the rice dish that Alice and Virginia eat brought to mind that Italian classic ‘Risotto alla Milanese’, a simple but luxurious rice dish which contains saffron and – traditionally – bone marrow. I drew on Delia Smith’s recipe but stuck to my vegetarian guns – having given up meat for Lent – and made it with vegetable stock (instead of the chicken stock she uses), but I did cheat by using parmesan (which isn’t vegetarian – you could substitute it with a vegetarian cheddar instead if you’re being strict). I like to think this is the meal the Madden sisters would have eaten had they had the finances for their desired independent existence.

RISOTTO ALLA MILANESE FOR AN INDEPENDENT LIFE

INGREDIENTS (serves 4):
320g arborio rice
100g butter
1 teaspoon saffron stamens
1 medium onion, chopped finely
100ml dry white wine
1.2 litres vegetable stock
4 heaped tablespoons grated Parmesan (or vegetarian Cheddar)
Salt and pepper

Method:
Begin by crushing the saffron to a powder in a pestle and mortar.

Melt 60g of the butter in a heavy-based saucepan over a medium heat and then add the saffron and cook gently for 1 minute. Now add the onion, lower the heat slightly, and cook for about 10 minutes until softened but not brown. Whilst the onion is cooking pour the wine into the mortar so it can soak up any saffron powder left in there.

When the onion is softened, add the rice and stir so that the grains are covered in the buttery sauce. Then add the wine and 1 teaspoon of salt. Increase the heat slightly and bring the mixture up to a gentle simmer until the liquid is absorbed.

Add a ladleful of stock to the mixture and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the stock is absorbed. Then add another ladleful.  And so on, stirring frequently, until the stock is used up.  This should take 20-25 minutes.

When the rice is cooked, remove from the heat and add the remaining butter and Parmesan. Cover the saucepan with a teatowel and leave for 5 minutes – don’t neglect this step as it allows the flavours to absorb and mingle.  Season to taste and serve with more grated Parmesan.