Jean Rhys: feeling different and not belonging

Carole Angier's biography of the novelist Jean Rhys contains some very insightful remarks about her and her life. Some of these remarks are very similar to what I would have come up with myself if I had looked at the same source material. 

The miraculous deliverances and spiralling down elements of Jean Rhys's life have been introduced. This article covers some more key features: she felt different from most people and she felt that she didn't belong anywhere. 

Feeling different 

There is nothing unusual about Jean Rhys's feeling of being fundamentally different from the people around her; after reading biographies of other writers, I would think it very unusual if she didn't feel like that! It's what they all say; it goes with the territory. 

What does seem strange to me is how various people of interest quite independently describe their feelings and experiences in much the same words. 

Something that Carole Angier says about Jean Rhys could equally apply to many others, including Stella Benson and Antonia White:

“One of the strongest feelings Jean had always...was that she didn't fit in the world, that life was a game she had never learned how to play...She did not understand the rules.”

This is exactly how some people feel: everyone knows the rules of the game but them; everyone else knows how to behave, what to say, where to go and what to do, but they are baffled and clueless.

Such people may see the world as a club to which they will never belong no matter how much they want to and how hard they try. The article about Jean Rhys and Antonia White contains uncannily similar quotations about how something always goes wrong when they try to be like other people.

Jean Rhys: miraculous deliverances and spiralling down

As mentioned in the previous article about the novelist Jean Rhys, Carole Angier's biography is very comprehensive indeed. She has done huge amounts of research; she describes Jean Rhys's personality, life and works in great detail and provides much background information. She makes good points and provides neat summaries; she has many insights that seem spot on. So what more can there be to say about Jean Rhys, this woman who seems to have been by far her own worst enemy? 

Some of Carole Angier's material that is particularly interesting and relevant is worth highlighting and expanding on, as are some more connections and elements that are familiar from books by or about other writers. 

This article introduces a recurring element in Jean Rhys's life that I think is very significant indeed: whenever she was in deep trouble, something or someone would come to her rescue. Money, somewhere to stay and support and assistance would appear as if by magic and save the day. 

I suspect that there was more to this than just chance, benevolent, compassionate people – and victims and enablers - and sometimes unashamed begging and emotional blackmail on Jean Rhys's part: I think that unseen influences were involved. There are other elements and incidents in Jean Rhys's life that support this idea.

Jean Rhys and the miraculous deliverances

Carole Angier says that whenever Jean Rhys was in dire straits and at the end of her resources, something or someone would always turn up and bail her out:

“Whenever she was at rock bottom, someone would always help.”

“...Jean's life was full of benefactors – her unusual need drew unusual help, as though by magic.”

“Again the last-minute rescue, the magical, fateful possibility of change!”

This is independent confirmation of a phenomenon that I have mentioned in several other articles, Some of these deliverances do indeed seem almost miraculous; perhaps something metaphysical really was at work in these unexpected strokes of Providence. 

While I believe that some people do have the ability to manifest things that they need, there are good – and safe – ways and bad – and dangerous - ways of doing this. I have mentioned various aspects of this elsewhere. 

Some writers with Celtic connections

The starting point for this article was a line in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s novella The Parasite, which has been the subject of many articles.

Austin Gilroy thinks that the witch Helen Penclosa got her hooks deep into him because of his Celtic origin and that his colleague Charles Sadler got off lightly because of his phlegmatic Saxon temperament.

This made me wonder if people of Celtic origin really are more open to unseen influences than those of other ancestries. I have Irish connections on one side and Scottish on the other, so this topic is of great interest to me.

I remembered that some of the writers featured or mentioned in this blog had Cornish, Irish, Scottish or Welsh connections; I decided to do a quick investigation and list any more people on here who are known or appear to be of Celtic descent on one or both sides.

People of interest with Celtic connections
Conan Doyle may have been born in Edinburgh, but he had Irish Catholic parents.

Joan Aiken’s Canadian-born mother was a MacDonald, which suggests Scottish ancestors.

J. M. Barrie was a Scotsman.

Enid Blyton had an Irish grandmother on her father’s side.

Angela Brazil had a Scottish grandfather on her mother’s side.

The Brontës had an Irish father and a Cornish mother.

John Buchan was a Scotsman.

Taylor Caldwell was of Scottish origin on both sides. She was descended from the MacGregor clan on her mother’s side.

James Cameron has remote Scottish connections.

Andrew Carnegie, whose public libraries have inspired many writers, was a Scotsman.

The family of Lewis Carroll (Charles Lutwidge Dodgson) had some Irish connections.

Eoin Colfer is Irish.

Marie Corelli’s real father was almost certainly the Scottish poet Charles Mackay.

Jean Rhys and Antonia White: some similarities

I have been working my way through Carole Angier’s definitive and very detailed biography of the writer Jean Rhys. 

Jean Rhys: Life and Work is over 700 pages long; it includes a literary study of her novels and short stories. I suppose that people who want information about Jean Rhys  and her life will find this book a goldmine and people who like her writings will enjoy reading it, but I found it very depressing.

Jean Rhys got a brief mention in one of the articles about Diana Wynne Jones’s Aunt Maria; the time has now come to say something more about her. Anyone who wants very detailed information about her life and works is best off reading the biography; here I just want to highlight a few elements of particular interest, especially ones that she has in common with other featured writers. 

I found some very familiar features in Carole Angier’s biography; I had already encountered much similar material while investigating other writers. Jean Rhys is in many ways a classic, text-book case. Although she has features in common with several other writers, in my opinion it is Antonia White whom Jean Rhys on the whole most resembles. 

Some of the similarities
Both Jean Rhys and Antonia White were very interested in expensive clothes and beauty treatments - to the detriment of their finances! 

They both spent some time at convent schools.

They both attended the Academy of Dramatic Art in London’s Gower Street and later went on the stage in minor roles for a short time. It was not very successful; they found the touring tiring and the life disillusioning. Acting was a false start for both of them.

They were both self-obsessed. They could never bear to be alone. Both made screaming scenes. Both suffered from poor impulse control. Both led tortured lives. 

Balancing the books: a problem and a solution

I started an article about Terry Pratchett’s witch Tiffany Aching by saying what a great relief it was for me to turn to his books after reading a lot of depressing biographical material.

This introduced one of the problems that reading certain books can cause together with a good solution.

While other articles cover the sometimes devastating effects of putting ideas and experiences into the context of other people’s lives and looking at the total picture, this one is about being badly affected emotionally or even psychically rather than mentally. 

Reading about the lives of writers such as August Strindberg, Stella Benson, Mary Webb, Ouida, Jean Rhys and Antonia White, who have all been featured or at least mentioned on here, can have a very bad effect on impressionable people.

Some people are very good at getting inside books, sharing the writers’ viewpoints and living the lives and stories.  This can be a two-edged sword: when reading certain books, such people are in danger of getting sucked in, overwhelmed, trapped and poisoned by psychic contagion.

Some of the harmful effects come from picking up the writers’ inner states from the material: general negativity and feelings of misery, agony, abandonment, depression, desolation, disconnection, doom and despair can be infectious. 

Counterweights and antidotes
By far the best solution is to read very different books, ones that have on the whole a very positive effect. They can be inspiring, educational and informational or just entertaining. 

Children’s and young adults’ books are often ideal; old friends, comfort reading and new books by a favourite author are all good too.  

Diana Wynne Jones’s witch Aunt Maria: part I

Aunt Maria appears in Diana Wynne Jones’s Black Maria aka Aunt Maria. She operates and does a lot of damage on more than one level: she is both a dreadful, detestable, manipulative old woman and an evil witch. 

Aunt Maria gets under my skin in a way that none of the other witches I have discussed so far does. I can read about her turning people into animals without any problems, but I can hardly bear to read the descriptions of her ‘this world’ behaviour towards the family that she asks to come and stay with her: it comes too close to home; it triggers very painful memories and feelings. 

Her intrusive behaviour over the phone in the first few pages of the book is more than enough to make me want to stop reading, but I persevere because there are lessons to be learned and points and connections to be made.

Aunt Maria’s personality and behaviour
Aunt Maria is hateful; she is insufferable; she is intrusive, annoying, selfish, demanding and controlling. She is a complete expert at using suggestion, disapproval, martyrdom, disappointment, guilt trips, intimidation, emotional blackmail and mind control to manipulate people into doing what she wants. She is cruel and unscrupulous. She is a tyrant in disguise: she subtly forces everyone to dance to her tune.