A. S. Byatt’s Possession veers away from traditional story telling to give us a story that is not told solely through one point of view, but through several alternating ones. Not only do these points of view alternate between characters, but they also switch between time periods and delivery of said point of view. While the principal story is set in 1980s Britain, we are also given a glimpse of Victorian Britain through the points of view of Christabel LaMotte and Randolph Henry Ash. Byatt intelligently uses Ash and LaMotte’s poetry, letters and journal entries as a narrative voice as well as an inset tale, also mixing together two literary genres into one larger scale one; Maud and Roland’s story, which leads the narrative, is also interspersed with Cropper’s occasional narrative voice. “The cast of characters is almost large enough to make one think of Middlemarch” writes Robert B. Heilman in his article (Heilman, 607), however this is what makes the novel a truly impressive work of art in the first place.
The first, and most central, narrative strategy is the voices of the 1980s. While largely dominated by Roland Michell’s perspective, as introduced in the first chapter, other characters who contribute to the central strategy are Maud Bailey, Mortimer Cropper, and occasionally other academics such as Beatrice Nest and James Blackadder. For the sake of this essay, I shall focus mainly on Roland, Maud and Cropper as primary contributors to the main narration, and how their differences in world views affect the way the story is told through their eyes.
Roland’s world view is very heavily centred around Randolph Henry Ash. While this is expected of an academic whose main concern is to find out as much as possible about said poet, it is also slightly damaging to the narrative, as it is simply all that he seems to think about. Even when speaking about his life with Val, we are reminded about the importance of Ash in his life – “Val had been, Roland was sure, partly responsible for his First. (Along with his mother and Randolph Henry Ash.)” (Byatt, 11). Even when he interacts with Maud, it is very clear that, though he hopes that they might become friends in the beginning, in order to aid their investigations into Ash and LaMotte’s correspondences, he is still only doing it because of his fascination with Ash. Roland’s view of women, as well, is not the healthiest. His relationship with Val is strained, very obviously shown from the beginning of the novel. He is influenced by Fergus’ view of Maud from the beginning (although it might change through the course of the story)…
“‘What is she like? Will she eat me?”
‘She thicks men’s blood with cold.’”
(Byatt, 34)
Cropper’s point of view is highly similar to that of Roland, in that both are incredibly invested in finding out all that they can about Ash – for their own purposes, of course. Cropper, however, is much more exploitative in his approach towards gaining information. As seen in Chapter Six, which is told completely through Cropper’s narrative, he has certain methods of gaining what he wants, mostly from unsuspecting women in possession of documents that he can use. As readers, we are told that his need to document the life of Ash in a biography is not a noble pursuit, and it is no surprise that he is written in a way that makes us dislike him. His obvious exploitation of the woman who lets him sleep in her home in Chapter Six is sure to make any female reading it feel uncomfortable, and shows that, as a character and as a narrator, he is willing to do whatever it takes to get to his goal, even if it means being deceptive to people.
However, one should not demonize Cropper without analyzing that, essentially, Roland starts off the same as him, albeit not as manipulative. The way that the males in the central narrative treat females of their same timeline is worrying – while Roland and Maud eventually form a close relationship that turns into more than just friendship, Roland’s behaviour towards Val is still problematic; Cropper’s behaviour towards anybody in general is also incredibly problematic. The little we know of Beatrice Nest, she was not taken seriously for wanting to engage in investigations regarding Ash and instead given the task of analyzing the journals of his wife (a disappointing thing to do to an academic). The main narrative, therefore, is full of a sort of disengaging of female characters. However, we are then treated to Maud Bailey.
Maud is, as described by Fergus, cold; the colour she is associated with is green, a colour that is commonly tied with envy, but in her case, simply accentuates just how cold she actually is. She is greatly invested in her pursuit of knowledge regarding LaMotte, and comes off as aloof to the male academics she encounters for it. However, while the likes of Cropper and Roland are almost expected to act a certain way as they do their life’s work, Maud is almost criticized for not being more enthusiastic, or for focusing solely on her subject of interest, LaMotte, when really it is what they themselves are doing. Therefore, we can see that in the central narrative based in the 1980s, which is largely dominated by a male voice, women are not portrayed in the best of light, even if one of the main characters herself is a woman of her own agency.
The second layer of narration in the novel is based around the journal entries and letters of correspondence of the characters in Victorian England. We are treated, mainly, to LaMotte and Ash’s correspondence that reveals their love affair, but also to journal entries from Blanche Glover (LaMotte’s living companion), Ellen Ash’s journal, and Sabine de Kercoz’s journal. Since the novel is mostly concerned with the act of compiling evidence for biography or academia, then the letters and journal entries are of singular importance to us. For the purpose of this essay, I shall be focusing mainly on LaMotte, Ash, and Glover as part of the secondary narration.
Blanche Glover’s narrations are seen as not very useful in the beginning of the story, undermining their importance in the grand scheme of things. Her writing about a ‘Prowler’ is dismissed as her being paranoid and not actually having anything to do with Ash. As a character, Glover is an outside perspective on the affair that LaMotte and Ash had, although she may not reveal enough of the nitty-gritty details. It is interesting to note the slight hints of Sapphic attraction that Glover may have for LaMotte, which might be one of the reasons why she signs off a letter as “Blance Glover, a spinster” at a point in the novel.
Ash, as a correspondence, writes as one would expect a man of a certain reputability in Victorian England to write. He is respectful, often using bombastic language (which could be his way of asserting his craft) and going off on tangents during his letters (we see, from our first glimpse of his letters, that he does ramble and tend to cross out his sentences and try again). His correspondence with LaMotte, more importantly, is almost like that of a love-sick school boy. Though he expresses an interest in her that is, at first, that of a poet who wishes to engage with a like-minded individual, we can still see the implications of his attraction to her in his words. He is also, however, slightly patronizing to her in his letters, almost as if he feels he is owed a response.
“‘I do not know whether to be more encouraged or cast down by your letter. The essential point in it is ‘if you care to write again’, for by that permission you encourage me more than by your wish not to be seen – which I must respect – you cast me down.’”
(Byatt, 157)
LaMotte, on the other hand, is a ‘no nonsense’ kind of woman, very much like Maud, who mirrors her in the 1980s timeline. LaMotte is interested in poetry, and praises Ash for his work as a poet, as she admits that it is of reputable work, but she is also very invested in her work, and is also seemingly offended when Ash suggests that she is not familiar with certain literary works (“I was quite shocked that you might suppose I did not know the Poem on Mesmer” (Byatt, 159)). LaMotte is, as a side-narrator, very clear in her intentions and direct with her point. Ash, on the other hand, seems to be working on a hidden agenda, which might be the start of the affair that they eventually find themselves in.
A small, final layer of narration is the inlay of poems and short stories throughout the text. The fact that Byatt took the time to write up numerous fictional works for these characters, in their distinct styles that she created for them, is a feat all to itself. The fact that they were included into the novel, one (sometimes more) for each chapter, makes the work feel much more authentic, and can also give us more of an understanding of the story as a whole. Interestingly enough, Ash and LaMotte both write in ways that is expected of poets of their gender in their time; Ash writes as the Second Wave Romantics did, while LaMotte writes very much like Emily Dickinson.
In conclusion, the three layers of narration in the novel contribute to how the overall female characters are viewed. In the first narration, female characters are either ridiculed for wanting to pursue their interests, or viewed as cold for actually actively doing their work and acting in a ‘masculine’ fashion. In the second layer of narration, women with their own agency are still not expected to be on the level of men in their same social circle, or else pushed aside for the lack of knowledge that they may provide. In the final layer, albeit a small one, we see how our knowledge now of poets that came from around this era effect our way of looking at how the fictional poets write in a way that is expected of them from us. Really and truly, because of the way that the novel is presented – with an emphasis on this academic world that is normally male dominated – this portrayal is largely true and echoes real life quite well, it seems.
Bibliography
Byatt, A. S. Possession. London: Vintage, 1991. i
Heilman, Robert B. “A. S. Byatt’s ‘Possession’ Observed”. The Sewanee Review 103.4 (1995), p. 605-612.
Of Scripted Shadows and Painted Words 