There are many ways of writing about war. Reading Wilfred Owen, we feel the force of his scepticism about the Great War and all war: his bitterness at the waste of young lives, the horror of trenches and gas attacks, the sickening reality that lies behind the vision of patriotic glory. Contemporary writers have told stories that have taken us into those times in other ways: Pat Barker, in her Regeneration trilogy, has written extensively about shell-shock; Sebastian Faulks, in Birdsong, about the detail of daily life in the trenches.
William– an Englishman offers something else. It is a sympathetic portrait of a young man whose life and ideals are ‘mangled’ by his encounter with the war. But it is not his story alone: we are reminded that ‘there were many parallels to the case and conversion of William Tully’. William, if you were simply to catalogue his qualities, is not all that an appealing a character. ‘Mild-mannered, pale-faced and undersized’, he is of such little consequence that, when he is an insurance clerk in London, a plan amongst his colleagues to get him drunk comes to nothing because no one could quite be bothered to carry it out. Even when the Germans who have captured him are about to pronounce on his fate and he thinks he may be ‘called upon to play the man’, he finds himself confronting not death but his own inconsequence: ‘he had offended the conqueror only by his poor little presence’.
This contrasts poignantly with the moments in the book when William experiences his own life as charged with significance and meaning. In an earlier scene, we see William and his wife-to-be, Griselda, on one golden evening in Battersea Park, glowing and burnished with a sense of their destiny as people who will leave a mark on the world; this is derived from their being part of the ‘self-important world of the agitated and the advanced’, a world into which they subsume themselves with the ‘profound ignorance of the unread and unimaginative’.
So it is a story about ideals and meaning that are ‘uprooted’ and supplanted by others which in their turn fall away, ultimately leaving William with an empty sense of somehow having been duped by he knows not whom. We learn of William’s conversion, under his friend Faraday’s tutelage, from an ‘unobtrusive and diffident’ clerk to a shrill Social Reformer and pacifist. We see him and Griselda, ‘his exact counterpart in petticoats’, their braces and hairpins awry, turfed out of a meeting they disrupt in the name of the suffrage cause. And all the while, they believe that this is what it means to be involved in ‘War’. They believe in causes: ‘the People’ and ‘Woman’, ‘Progress’ and ‘Humanity’, they believe ‘in defiance of the teachings of history, that Democracy is another word for peace and goodwill to all men.’
But, abruptly, their ignorant faith in these ideals starts to feel ‘madly, wildly and ridiculously wrong’. Thus we see William’s abrupt conversion when the horror and brutality of war collide directly with his own life, the flaring up of a vague sort of patriotism within him as he stares at the ‘dingy mud and orange’ wallpaper in the makeshift headquarters of a German officer and sees it ‘transfigured’ by sunlight to ‘shining gold’ in the moments when he thinks he may be about to face the firing squad. We see the development within him of a ‘strenuous, highly-coloured dream’ of soldiering which leads him to join up, fired by a desire for personal vengeance in the wake of Griselda’s death.
Then, finally, we see his collapse into sullen passivity as he finds himself trapped within the numbing pointlessness of his actual war-work, amidst the ‘stilted uselessness’ of the documents he produces. He becomes acutely aware of the contrast between the ‘blank reality’ of it all and the dreams of heroism he once harboured. We see the way in which the war weakens his powers of initiative, we see his weariness and aimlessness disillusionment such that he can give no thought to any future beyond the war itself, and it is left to Edith, his ‘kindly and capable comrade’ to put his feelings into words: ‘It’s difficult to think ahead because of the way in which the war has broken up our lives and plans.’ People have been ‘bent and twisted into things [they] were never meant to be’. And all they can do now is just wait passively ‘to see what happens’.
And what happens is William’s death, amidst the nightmarish images of ‘beastly flesh’ evoked by the ravings of a shell-shocked companion, and a reminder of the fragility of the scuttling ‘beetle-warrior’ human-being in the face of modern scientific warfare. After sustaining injuries, William lies ‘quietly alive’ for a day or two, long enough to formulate the painful questions left hanging in the air at the end of the novel about doing one’s duty and the futility of it all. And then we see his death ‘filed away’, presumably by a member of hospital clerical staff, like the author herself ”for possible inquiries’, of which we can be almost certain there will be none.
So this is also a novel which questions the herd-mentality: William is someone who relies on others for direction, even when he thinks he is being self-directing. He is the conformist clerk, his doings determined almost entirely by the will of his employers and his domineering mother. His wishes are ‘indeterminate’ and his ambition ‘non-existent’. He is so used to being directed by others that when he tastes freedom from his narrow life, he falls under the influence of the ‘fiercely earnest’ Faraday whose ideas he embraces so wholeheartedly that they rapidly become his central source of direction and purpose.
Even the violent dislodgement of those ideals as a result of William’s experiences in the Ardennes and his new-found zeal to fight for his country are somehow not self-directed. His experiences drive him to it: ‘Fate, not temperament, willed that he became patriotic.’ Then we see him again ‘having temporarily experienced an illusory sense of seizing control of his own destiny when he joined up’ realising that this was indeed an illusion and feeling somehow duped. His conversation with the itinerant wanderer turned soldier is illuminating in this respect: they share the same sense of the futility of it all. But the conversation introduces to William to a thought that had never occurred to him before: what might it mean to be directed by others rather than by yourself? And he reflects: ‘When you are in crowd you can always make excuses for yourself. Most likely you don’t need to. If you are a fool or a coward you can herd with a lot of other fools and cowards and you all back each other up. So you never come face to face with yourself.’
22 replies on “Persephone Book No.1: William – an Englishman by Cicely Hamilton”
How exciting that the Persephone Forum has started! I’ve been so looking forward to the first discussion. I read William An Englishman several months ago and thoroughly enjoyed it. What a treat to read such an excellent and thought provoking review.
I thought I would give some of my own thoughts in answer to some of the questions provided.
1. I was struck by Hamilton’s choice of title for the novel, as initially William doesn’t seem in the least patriotic and takes no pride in his nationality. I feel that the title “William an Englishman” emphasizes that William is a very ordinary character: he could be any other Englishman. He is neither particularly charming nor brave and has many flaws, and yet he is far from wholly unlikeable, and can be recognised as one of many nondescript characters one might pass in the street.
The outbreak of war forces William to realise the importance of his nationality and a new sense of patriotism enables him to show bravery when confronted by deadly peril. Thus, I feel “William an Englishman” is an entirely appropriate title.
2. I found William and Griselda’s ignorance/oblivion entirely plausible. It was clear that they paid little to no attention to the international politics of the day and unquestioningly believed their socialist journals/papers that scoffed at the idea of war. I found it interesting to contrast the world of pre WW1 with the world of today. Surely in today’s world of an all-pervasive media William and Griselda’s mistake could not be repeated?
3. To me, this novel was predominately on the theme of loss of innocence.
4. At first I found William and Griselda rather unsympathetic characters and, along, I felt, with Hamilton, I laughed at them a little. I felt, however, that they grew to become much more likeable as the novel progressed and did indeed even become heroic as they struggled through terror and great physical and mental pain. William does his best to protect his wife, and she shows a great deal of courage when she is is mortally wounded. I found the ending especially sad as William was denied the typical ‘hero’s’ death of fighting and dying in the battlefield.
7. I did consider Edith to be a rather clumsy plot-device, although her intervention was certainly essential to the rest of the plot. I, however, found her appearance to be the least believable element of the story.
What an excellent overview of the novel and photo of Conway Hall today. Living in Dorset and working full time, I’ve never had the chance to join a Persephone Book Group so I’d like to say how delighted I am that the Persephone Forum has gone online.
I loved this book. Truthfully with the first world war subject matter, it wasn’t perhaps a Persephone I would have chosen to read without a personal recommendation (in fact I got one from Miranda above!), but once I picked it up I couldn’t put it down. The love story between William and Griselda is touching in its very ordinariness and, in the end, their story is so very poignant. Truthfully, I didn’t find William and Griselda just “slightly unsympathetic” at first (I almost disliked the pair), but in a few chapters I was appalled to realise how their innocence and ignorance has placed them in an increasingly vulnerable and dangerous position, and, of course, they both pay far too high a price for their failings. As the novel went on in fact, I judged less and sympathised more. I do think the novel is timely today in that it shows so perfectly how naive and dangerous it is to ignore events that seem ‘oh so distant’ and follow the herd mentality without attempting to make informed decisions.
For me, it didn’t make me wonder how I would have coped in a similar situation (I certainly cannot imagine behaving any more bravely than William or Griselda managed), but it did make me think how fortunate I was not to have been born into that generation.
I found this book extremely powerful, and it is one that has stayed with me since I read it several months ago.
[1] In a way, it could just as well have been called ‘William – A European’; in the build-up to both wars, I think there was a denial on the parts of ordinary people from all the countries of Europe. I can see how William and Griselda could be considered terribly English, in a tea-and-crumpet way, but I think that misses the point a little. Or perhaps I’m seeing it in too modern a light – perhaps a hundred years ago, there was no such thing as a European…
[2] In all honesty, I found their innocence of the growing situation somewhat implausible, but then again, I think I read books like this in terms of an education – that this is what a certain type of person was like, and that though it may be hard to believe now, even the politicised classes of the 1910s didn’t understand the signficance and repercussions of their everyday politics. In this respect, I trust Hamilton to be teaching me, maybe warning me, and perhaps I need to listen rather than judge.
[3] For me, it’s a war novel. It sits with ”The Naked and the Dead’ rather than with ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’.
[4] There is no ironic reading of suffering. It could even be argued that William’s pain is all the greater for his absurdity. Although Griselda’s suffering was one of the most distressing I have read – her rape, and the lack of her own and William’s inability to address it, or even understand it, is utterly devastating – there is a sense that she is relieved of suffering by her death. William must live with this knowledge – one which he will never speak of (how many personal horrors of THAT war were never spoken of?) for the rest of his days. He is never heroic. But he is always real, always human.
[5] For me, it doesn’t matter that characters in a novel are unsympathetic. I found the same with ‘Little Boy Lost’. I found it with Henry James’ ‘Portrait of a Lady’. In life, people are often unsympathetic – it doesn’t dull our own ability to empathise.
[8] I think this is still an incredibly valid and relevant book. It is essentially about an educated couple who are so caught up in the smaller picture that they fail to see the bigger one of which they make up a tiny part. I see this all around me even now. As a War Novel, I find it’s simplicity, and the main characters’ naivety, both unique and affecting.
For me, this is a companion piece to A S Byatt’s ‘The Children’s Book’ as much as it is to the poems of Wilfred Owen and Siegfried Sassoon. It is about the way WWI touched ORDINARY people rather than those in the trenches. This was a war that was so far beyond contemporary human understanding that I have yet to read any piece of the era that doesn’r reduce me to tears. And this is no exception. It is an extraordinary book, even now.
I too found this a tremendously powerful novel, and one which made a lasting impression – it must be a few years now since I read it but it has remained very vivid in my mind. One reason it struck such a chord is that I could relate it to my own family history, and this is relevant to the discussion of how plausible is the couple’s innocence and ignorance as the ghastly events unfold. My great-grandfather, a carpet manufacturer, insisted on leaving on a business trip to Hamburg on the eve of the war, despite his wife’s protestation that war was about to break out. Interestingly, it seems that she had a sharper political sense (or read the newspapers more carefully) than he did! Like William and Griselda, he found himself overtaken by events. Helped by his business associates in Hamburg, he made an epic journey by horse and cart … to Belgium, by which time the German army had arrived. It took him about 6 weeks to get home, by which time my great-grandmother had given him up for dead. As probably fairly typical members of the manufacturing class, they were not a particularly idealistic, radically-minded couple but because of this episode, William and Griselda’s ignorance and simplicity, and total incredulity at the events unfolding around them seems to me entirely convincing.
The blinkered outlook can also be linked to the widespread conviction amongst many people in the period leading up to the war that it simply would not happen, because of the Kaiser’s close family ties with the English monarchy, and that the Edwardian bubble would not burst.
There are undoubtedly modern parallels, such as the refusal of members of the Communist Party in Britain to accept reports of atrocities in the Soviet Union.
First, extremely pleased that the Forum has begun, having bought all the books practically since the beginning but now, with the freedom of retirement, I can actually go through the lot – I’m in it for the long haul . . . .
I think the title refers to a colonialist belief in English unassailability, witness William’s and Griselda’s attempts to speak loud and slow to the farmer’s family in a language that they cannot understand and are therefore totally unprepared for what happens to them – and their indignation at the way they’re treated by the German soldiers – it is indignation at first, not fear.
I was left stunned after reading it. Such was the mastery of Hamilton’s slow build-up that I experienced Willieam’s & Griselda’s bewilderment at the same time as waatching them from a distance as they were unsympathetic characters.
I, too, was stunned after finishing William–an Englishman. It’s been some years since I read it, but reading the Forum notes here, I’m prompted to re-read it. As Marjorie mentions, Wiliam’s and Griselda’s bewilderment at the way things work out is fascinating and horrifying to witness.
I am delighted to see this Forum up and running!
I read this book some years ago, at first slightly slowly as I found it difficult to engage with the principal characters (You’re going to Belgium for your honeymoon? For goodnness’ sake!) So I was almost as shocked by what happened to them both as they were and therefore fascinated by the twist the author had pulled off. It was very interesting to read a war novel which was not about the trenches – well not directly – and therefore offered a glimpse of what the war was like for the many who were not in the front line.
I found myself wondering what would have happened to William if he had survived and could not imagine which was tragic – and arrogant on my part. And it brought home very forcibly to me why those who endured this terrible time were determined it should not be repeated – with such terrible consequences for the next generation.
I very much enjoyed reading others’ comments and was particularly interested in Ceridwen’s account of her Great Grndfather’s journey demonstrating that William and Griselda’s trip was not so extraordinary, reminding us that the course of history is only obvious when you look back not when you are living through it.
I am a bit of an imposter since I have not read the novel, just the review. But the review makes me want to read the novel whose central character is ‘Mild-mannered, pale-faced and undersized’, and, as the reviewer puts it ‘of such little consequence that, when he is an insurance clerk in London, a plan amongst his colleagues to get him drunk comes to nothing because no one could quite be bothered to carry it out.’ How poignant.
I am also interested in the suggestion that we could NOT be judgemental when reading novels (when we are reading them for their own sake rather than, say, for grammar tips). I think we inevitably need to keep passing provisional judgments on the characters as we read on.
Greetings from Montréal.
I too would echo my pleasure that this forum is up and running.
It is some time since I read the book but regarding the “plausibility” of the characters’ ignorance, I’ve just watched on DVD the BBC production of Vera Brittain’s autobiography “Testament of Youth” in which she makes some comment along the lines of surely what is happening in the Balkans will not affect us – I’ve not got access to my copy of her book but assuming this is accurate then I think it was sadly a very common view – and the wonderful piece of family history above bears this out. Even today it’s not impossible on a holiday overseas to become completely detached from the news and a mere 25 years ago I can recall meeting someone from the UK who had “missed” the Falklands War whilst on an extended journey to Asia.
I found the book almost unbearably poignant and very much wanted William to survive. Maybe like many others he would have drawn on his experiences to personal and public effect.
This book was bought for me by a friend when I spotted the Persephone stand at a Country Living Fair in Islington, so it was the first Persephone I had seen and the first I read.
An odd little tale I thought, and like others I had little sympathy with the two characters, except for the fact that as they were on honeymoon, they would have been oblivious wherever they were. It was such an odd and “oldfashioned” novel (in the best sense), that I have gone on to read many more, and quite often give Persephone books as gifts.
So nice to have a forum by the way.
The outbreak of war in the background of the honeymoon was a startling contrast to the simplicity of their relationship, and their understandable lack of grasp of the size and force of the colossal events emerging around them is wonderfully told. The tragedy of Griselda’s experience is so poignant in the setting of those sexually inhibited times. I thought this element of the story was excellent. Great stuff.
I am so excited for this forum! I love reading other reader’s views and opinions on these wonderful books!
I loved this book. I was initially shocked at the naivity of William and Griselda during wartime. This was such a good book that portrayed raw human emotion and gave the reader a glimpse of how horrible war is. I think the book ending was kind of sad. William ended up doing the job he started his life out with which seems very mundane and boring. His death was considered a civilian death and not a soldier’s death.
1) I tend to agree with what Nicola Beauman wrote in the preface: “he is an ordinary, unposturing Englishman, no different from the others.”
2) It seems plausible that Griselda and William are so ignorant of politics. William’s Mother raised him to be “painstaking and obedient” and he did not know how to live otherwise. It sounds like he grew up in an environment that did not encourage him to take interest and evaluate the world around him. When his Mother dies, he meets Faraday whom he attaches himself too and becomes faithful and obedient to Faraday and his cause. When Griselda and William heard the news of Fran Ferdinand they were unable to comprehend what that action would mean to the world.
3) Loss of innocence
4) I think that Cicely is simpathetic to her hero and heroine. She portrays them as naive at first but they have very real emotions and real responses to the horrible things they experienced.
5) I think Lulu summed this up nicely when she stated, “In life, people are often unsympathetic – it doesn’t dull our own ability to empathise.”
6) What this novel tells me about women of this time is that they were trying to break the mold. Suffregettes were trying very hard to get equal rights for women. It does not appear that Griselda is just waiting to get married, but that it was almost a chance meeting between her and William. It seemed to be a perfect match considering her and William were so much alike.
7) Edith’s appearance does not seem to be odd. Since the beginning of the book William had to be dependant on someone, first his Mother, than Faraday and Griselda. Edith is the next person he is dependant upon. She seemed important in the plot as someone who could guide him as to what to do next, especially since he was in shock.
8) To me, this book has a greater validity about the subject than a modern day book. I got that feeling after reading the forward and understood that Cicely wrote this book while bombs where going off around her; while she was living in a tent in the middle of the War. I am sure that alot of the feelings and emotions that Griselda and William experience once they realize the horrible situation they are in the middle of, are feelings that Cicely might have experienced herself at one point. Cicely described very vividly the sounds of the bombs and airplanes in the end.
I can believe in Cecily Hamilton`s picture of the life some people lived in London before the First World War. There may not have been many stalwart manly heroes about either, I doubt that good nutrition could be paid for. And Belgium for the honeymoon may not be incongruous – probably cheap fares, something different and `abroad `. For me `William – an Englishman `was convincing social history as much as a `war book `, and altogether unique.
I’ve so enjoyed reading all the comments – what an interesting discussion! I was fascinated by Ceridwen’s account of her great-grandfather’s experience. It shows that William and Griselda’s naivety would be very plausible. I also agree with Donna that the novel shows how dangerous an unquestioning ‘herd’ mentality can be, and that however ridiculous William and Griselda appear at first, they provide a valuable lesson against a blinkered outlook.
I’m Eva. I am moderating and writing the Forum (and I am indeed a librarian’s daughter!). I want to thank you all for the contributions to the discussion so far – wonderful that the book has so many threads that give pause for thought.
I think the title indicates that William is intended to represent something. What he represents is ‘ordinary’ Englishness. And I like ordinariness! After all, most people are ‘ordinary’ people. And we often see so little of ‘ordinariness’ in the way things are written about: news reports about our own country – and other countries – tell us about the newsworthy, the extra-ordinary. But most people live amidst the ordinary and the book is a reminder of how very valid it is to write about it.
When I read that Cicely Hamilton had written the novel whilst actually engaged in war work (see the Persephone Authors page on this Forum for information about her life) it made it all the more poignant for me. Re-reading the final pages of the book, I could imagine her having encountered many ‘Williams’, caught up in similarly anonymous and futile suffering. Cicely’s own somewhat ambivalent involvement in the suffrage cause is also fascinating. Given the way Griselda and her shrill contemporaries (in their intentionally lady-like attire) are dealt with in the book, one might think that Cicely had little sympathy for the feminist causes of her time. But she was in fact actively involved the suffrage movement, whilst also maintaining her own views about how far enfranchisement would really go in changing women’s lives. And so its a good book to start with from that point of view, given that many of the other Perspehone books give us so much insight into the change and also continuity in the way women have lived their lives in the last century or so.
I was interested in the comments about sympathising with and judging the characters and how we read their suffering. I find the tone of the novel interesting: I think Cicely adopts a tone of gentle mockery and yet also conveys real empathy for the predicament of her characters and that this influences the way the reader judges the characters. I think we do of course judge as we read. But, in doing so, we come to reflect on the fact that we judge through contemporary eyes and also to consider how we might have judged differently had we been contemporaries of Cicely’s characters.
Do keep adding to the discussion. All your musings, long or short, are very welcome. And I’d also very much encourage people to post links to other resources or images that relate to what is recounted in the book. Here’s a link to a Tate magazine article about the art work of Paul Nash, including an image he produced during WWI called “We are making a new world”. Paul Nash’s work was recently exhibited at the Dulwich Picture Gallery and some of his pieces are in the Imperial War Museum’s collection.
I’m delighted to have stumbled across this beautifully written forum.
I have never read one of your books, but this review has motivated me to start!
Thanks for the highly stimulating discussion: keep up the good work!
I forgot to say that I welcomed Ceridwen’s input on her Grandfather’s story. Such actual detail really does give credence to an author’s work.
Am loving ‘Mariana’ and can’t wait for 1st July!
Thanks for linking to me in the opening discussion – I did wonder where all those readers had come from. I’d agree that the narrative’s sympathy for the characters limits an ironic reading of their story, however much William and Griselda are mocked in the opening chapters. In her own literary context, Cicely Hamilton is also being rather subversive in taking a naive, suggestible insurance clerk as her protagonist and making of him a hero. H G Wells’s clerk-heros may come out on top, but they are always ridiculous, and we know what happens to the unfortunate Leonard Bast in Howards End.
My own reading of the title is that it summarises William’s transition from internationalist to patriot, and links him to all the other Englishmen who were fired by patriotism in the Great War and similarly disillusioned.
I’ve really enjoyed the introduction and the accompanying questions for William here, as well as the Authors page: all added to my reading experience of the novel, as did the many thoughtful comments here.
In asking myself whether I found the book to be a predominantly a war novel or one considering the loss of innocence, my instinctive response was the latter and then, upon consideration, I thought that it really could not be one without the other. William and Griselda’s loss of innocence was directly connected to their wartime experiences.
When I thought about it some more, I realized that I’m just not accustomed to thinking of myself as someone who reads “war” novels, not used to the idea of my appreciating wartime fiction. And yet I have read more of it this year than many years, and more of Persephone’s wartime nonfiction as well, so your discussion has helped me recognize a shift in my own reading habits.
(I, too, am looking forward to the discussion about Monica Dickens’ novel next month: I read a lot of her books as a teen and am looking forward to this one.)
I, too, thought of Leonard Bast . . . .
What a great book! I’ve been engrossed by it and thoroughly enjoyed having to think about the questions posed by the forum.
1) William is described as “a negligible quantityâ€, “unobtrusive and diffidentâ€, “nervous little nincompoop†and “meekest of meek little clerksâ€. These words do not conjure up the image of a typical Englishman to me so I was puzzled by the story’s title. However, I felt Edith typifies an Englishwoman as she is a capable, no-nonsense sort of person. Then half way through the book, when William thinks he may be looking at sunshine for the last time, after witnessing executions and thinking he may be next, “…for the first time in many years he thought of himself as a national, a man of English voice.†That was the point when I understood the story’s title.
2) I found it completely plausible that William and Griselda could be oblivious to the threat of war, vaguely aware of some event involving an Archduke but a long way away and of no relevance to the ‘The People’ and ‘Woman’. They requested that no paper or letter should be forwarded to them during their month-long honeymoon and were unable to understand the native language. We are told that “Griselda and William had a friendly feeling for Germany and the German people….†and “… you seldom hate a man with whom you have not acquaintance†so they had no inkling that they should be concerned. Today we know that brutal acts of terrorism can happen in our city at any time and we can hear or see the latest worldwide news whenever we chose.
3) The novel to me is one on the theme of loss of innocence, of loss of faith, of fear and seeking revenge.
4) Cicely Hamilton is scathing of William and Griselda and we are encouraged to find them absurd and shallow, to smirk at them as we read. Their fates, however, lead me to find them heroic. Griselda, in the space of just three days, is traumatised by watching an execution, by rape and then by a slow death in strange and unfamiliar circumstances. William seeks revenge yet ends up trapped, yet again, as a clerk.
5) William and Griselda (or rather for me William) are unappealing. I felt judgmental of their characters but not enough to abandon them and their story. I read the novel twice. On the first reading I wasn’t too bothered about the characters but didn’t actually dislike them. On my second reading I felt quite differently about Griselda in particular. I realised more vividly what a short time William and Griselda had together and felt quite sick knowing what was going to happen to Griselda. If a story is well told the appeal of the characters is not so important.
6) The novel doesn’t tell us much about women’s lives at that time. I don’t see Griselda as just waiting to get married. Fighting the suffragette cause would not seem the ideal arena for looking for a husband. William proposes in April and it seems it is he who presses for a quick marriage, in July, since money is not a problem for either of them. On a bench in Battersea Park each pledges to carry on with their causes once married with children. The pledge of obedience was removed for their wedding vows which seems very enlightened for their time. Griselda comes across as sincere with genuine ideals but there is so little description of her background or life before William that it is difficult to come to much conclusion.
7) Edith’s presence does seem odd but how else would William ever get back to England! He would have withered and died without her.
8) Rather than wondering how I would have coped, I’m more perplexed that the German soldiers could be so brutal so quickly. The war when William and Griselda stumbled upon it was only days old. Astonishing that man can behave so callously and how quickly man will follow a cause when threatened. I don’t see this book as more or less valid than a modern one. It stands alone. It is a great story, tightly written and fascinating that it was written by a woman, one who was experiencing the war herself and writing and publishing at the time, not with hindsight.
I’m really looking forward to next month’s discussion of Marianna.
Happy that thoughts on the book are still coming in and that they suggest many different interpretations: different views on the title, the characters, the main themes, the plausibility of the situation.
Here’s a link which reveals another side of Cicely Hamilton’s writing – a pamphlet she produced for the suffragist cause:
http://www.wcml.org.uk/contents/object-of-the-month/suffragette-pamphlet-by-cicely-hamilton/