Choosing Between Being an Englishwoman and a Sexual Woman

For my post, I would like to think about how Howards End disrupts the idea proper English womanhood, especially as it relates to female sexuality. We have seen many a pure female this semester—Margaret Hale, Esther Lyon,[1] Hetta Carbury—all of whom our Englishmen were happy to marry in the final pages of their respective novels; however, in many ways the less-than-ideal ladies are more interesting to consider. One striking similarity between two of the fallen women from our texts—Mrs. Winifred Hurtle and Helen Schlegel—is their lack of pure Englishness. Paul Montague cannot marry Mrs. Hurtle because of her unwomanly knowledge of the world, history of violence, and sexualized past. And all of these flaws are very much tied up in her American-ness. Likewise, Forster highlights the split between the Schlegel’s English and German heritage, and, after Helen’s relationship with Leonard and resultant pregnancy, she departs for Germany, and eventually makes plans to reside with Margaret and her child in Munich. While Mrs. Hurtle returns to America at the end of The Way We Live Now, Helen remains in England at Howards End. In spite of all efforts on the part of he Wilcox’s (and society at large), Helen was ultimately not stripped of her Englishness just because she lost her virginity.

After learning of his sister-in-law’s false step, Henry Wilcox refuses to have her stay at Howards End, attempting to control the damage and tidy up the mess of an unmarried woman who is with child in the eyes of society. Knowing Henry’s own sexual history, which he does not see as comparable, Margaret points out Henry’s hypocrisy: “You shall see the connection if it kills you, Henry! You have had a mistress—I forgave you. My sister has a lover—you drive her from the house. Do you see the connection? Stupid, hypocritical, cruel—oh, contemptible!” (38.263). Margaret notes the double standard that allows her husband to sew his wild oats, while her sister is supposedly ruined by her sexual encounter. The exact same double standard that Margaret and Helen combat is the understanding that allows Paul Montague to sew his wild oats with Mrs. Hurtle, but not marry her because she is too coarse, instead opting for the proper model of English female virtue, the pure Hetta Carbury.

 

Interestingly, because Helen maintained her innocence prior to her sexual relationship with Leonard (and because of her privileged class positioning), she is largely stripped of blame in causing the event itself (though she is still equally sullied by the results). The narrator notes that “[i]t never occurred to him [Leonard] that Helen was to blame” (41.270) and the guilt over corrupting Helen’s pure womanhood tortures Leonard to his death. However, Helen sees the truth that she was the one who made the decision and guided Leonard: “I tempted him, and I killed him” (44.288). Thus, it is not just Helen who suffers because of the ideal of female chastity, but the man who feels unbearable guilt over ruining that supposed ideal as well. The novel, however, justifies Leonard’s suffering and death as part of a larger struggle, because it allowed for a victory in the war against false ideals: “It was part of the battle against sameness…I can’t have you worrying about Leonard. Don’t drag in the personal when it will not come. Forget him” (44.288). Ultimately, the novel allows for a small place where Helen is neither virgin nor whore, victim or villain, but rather a woman free to make her own choices in life—as we have seen throughout this semester, it is particularly notable that this place of independence was within the bounds of England.

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[1] Esther is an interesting character in relationship to this conversation thanks to her French mother, but she seems to live up to a certain standard of Englishness throughout Felix Holt.