The mystery of Jean Rhys, Aunt Maria, and Diana Wynne Jones

The article about Carole Angier's doubly-depressing biography of the novelist Jean Rhys includes an attempt to answer a big question the book raises: if it has such a bad effect, why read it and why comment on it? 

I said something relevant to this question a long time ago in the first article about Diana Wynne Jones's witch Aunt Maria: I persevere with some infuriating and/or depressing books because there are lessons to be learned and points and connections to be made from them. 

This article attempts to answer a small question that arose recently when I noticed a few similarities between Jean Rhys as described in Carole Angier's biography and the fictional Aunt Maria: could Diana Wynne Jones have been influenced by Jean Rhys: Life and Work when she was writing Black Maria aka Aunt Maria? 

After dealing with some of the more significant topics connected with Jean Rhys, I decided to investigate the possibility that Diana Wynne Jones had read Carole Angier's biography and, consciously or unconsciously, copied a little of the material for her children's book. 

I started by re-reading Black Maria in the light of what I had recently learned about Jean Rhys; some of the common elements I found this time around seemed worth highlighting - and more than just coincidence.

Wheelchairs and walking
Both Jean Rhys and Aunt Maria pretended to be more disabled than they really were. 

The first article about Aunt Maria mentions a scene in which the horrible old witch, who is supposedly can barely walk and spends much of her time in a wheelchair, is quite able to get up and go to the window when she sees something that angers her. 

When I first read this, I was immediately reminded of something I had read many years earlier about Jean Rhys while looking into the Jane Eyre connection: when she became angry with her assistant, she left her wheelchair in a flash to run to the door and lock it. 

Isaac Asimov, public libraries, and National Science Fiction Day

This article for January 2nd is the last in a string of lighter posts for the holiday season. It will soon be time to get back to the depressing biographies and other heavy topics!

January 2nd is the official birthday of the great - if not the greatest - science fiction writer Isaac Asimov, who was featured in an article that marked the 25th anniversary of his death. There is also an article about a never forgiven or forgotten brushing-off experience that he had in common with Noel Streatfeild.

Isaac Asimov and public libraries 
Just like many other writers, Terry Pratchett for example, Isaac Asimov was a great user of public libraries as a boy. He learned far more from library books than he did at school, as did I and many other self-educators.

His autobiography In Memory Yet Green contains some details of his early dealings with public libraries, which he first joined at the age of six. Just as I did, he managed to wangle cards from two different libraries so got twice the normal ration of books; just I did, Asimov was soon able to get access to the adult section.

Isaac Asimov read voraciously to satisfy his craving for knowledge, but he was not indiscriminate. I could have written this myself:

“I wanted excitement and action in my stories rather than introspection, soul-searching, and unpleasant people. So if I did reach for fiction in the library it was likely to be a historical novel by Rafael Sabatini...(Usually, when I discovered one book by a prolific author I found I liked I would methodically go through all the others by him I could find.)“

Isaac Asimov remembers public libraries 
Even though he moved on to academic and other professional libraries and eventually established a reference library of his own at home, Isaac Asimov never forgot the huge debt that he owed to public libraries.

Some more Sagittarian writers of interest

I noticed a while back that a few writers of interest were born at the end of November.  

I found some good connections while I was looking to see what these astrological Sagittarians had in common.

A few more writers whose work I like or at least am familiar with and/or who are of interest for other reasons were born under the sign of Sagittarius – some before the end of November and some in December.

Most of them have been featured or at least mentioned in articles in the past; there may be more to say about a few of them in the future. There may also be some new names to add to the list.

Jane Austen was born on December 16th 1775.
Although her books don't inspire commentary, she has been mentioned on here in a few articles in connection with suspicious deaths. She also appears in articles about tangled webs of connections.

She mentions a witch on one occasion:

“Ah, Mother! How do you do?” said he, giving her a hearty shake of the hand. “Where did you get that quiz of a hat? It makes you look like an old witch...”

From Northanger Abbey

The Reverend Richard Harris Barham was born on December 6th 1788. 
His Ingoldsby Legends, which contain some stories about witches, are praised by Allan Quatermain in Sir Henry Rider Haggard's King Solomon's Mines and its sequel.

Lucy M. Boston was born on December 10th 1892.
She lived to the age of 97. One of her Green Knowe books features the witch Dr. Melanie Powers, who is mentioned in a few places on here, and her autobiography is the subject of an article.

Flying horses, which were mentioned in connection with writers born in late November, appear in The River at Green Knowe.

Frances Hodgson Burnett was born on November 24th 1849.
Her children's classics A Little Princess, The Secret Garden and Little Lord Fauntleroy are her most famous works. They are rather dated but still selling well. She was involved with metaphysical matters; I will investigate this once the people and topics of current interest are finished with.

The doubly-depressing biography of Jean Rhys

The depressing effect that reading some biographies can have on impressionable readers has been mentioned in several articles, in this one about balancing the books for example. 

Too much reading about people whose lives were mostly one long nightmare scenario and who seemed to be under a curse or evil spell can make us feel that we too are trapped in hell with no way out. 

Carole Angier's Jean Rhys: Life and Work is the worst of the depressing biographies that I have read to date.

Something that the novelist Rebecca West said about Jean Rhys's autobiographical book After Leaving Mr Mackenzie (1931) also applies to Jean Rhys's other books and to Carole Angier's biography - not to mention many other biographies and fictional works mentioned on here:

“It is doubtful if one ought to open this volume unless one is happily married, immensely rich, and in robust health; for if one is not entirely free from misery when one opens the book one will be at the suicide point long before one closes it.” 

This is exactly what I am talking about. Some books have an effect similar to that of the Dementors in Harry Potter! 

In addition to being overwhelmed by a general miasma of misery, readers may find some of the material acutely distressing: the details of the suffering that Jean Rhys's actions and lack of coping ability caused to others are very painful to read. The death from pneumonia of the tiny baby she put near a balcony door in the heart of winter, her physical violence against her husbands and the neglect of her dying third husband, who went unwashed and unfed, are some of the worst examples.

An important point here is that it may be even worse for readers for whom some of it comes very close to home. 

Cults and the cutting of personal connections: Part III

The previous article gives examples of members of cult-like organisations who were ordered to cut their personal connections so that they could dedicate themselves to the cause. There is another angle to broken relationships between members and non-members: sometimes it is the non-members who cut the ties. They may feel that enough is enough when it comes to being treated badly; they may do it to protect themselves. 

From another old post of mine:

“There is another side to this. It could be that it is the family and friends who do the avoiding – or dropping. They may come to hate the pressure to accept the ideology, the recruitment attempts, the lectures and the preaching; they may get tired of being pestered for money while at the same time being told how inferior they are. There may be nothing in in for them.”

They may also not appreciate being frequently stood up or let down by unreliable people: cult members are not their own bosses and are often given errands or sent away somewhere with little notice. 

Someone who has been involved with a cult member may come to understand that they have been cheated, lied to and made a fool of: misrepresentation is common cult practice.

They may feel resentful when they realise that they have been exploited and angry when they discover that they have been tricked and used. For example, they may have been invited somewhere under false pretences just to get the numbers up and make it look as though there are many supporters. 

The cult members know very well that people wouldn't go if they knew the true purpose of and ulterior motive behind an invitation, so they bait the hook with something attractive.

I remember an occasion when people were lured to a venue by the prospect of hearing good music; they got political speeches instead! Some of them got up and walked out in disgust.  

Just as some members decide to leave a cult after a last straw moment, some people decide to stop seeing their member friends after experiencing the final straw. 

Cults and the cutting of personal connections: Part II

The previous article described in general terms the cutting of personal connections by cult members. 

This specific example, which speaks for itself, comes from an ex-member of a religious cult:

“When my sister got married I was not allowed to go to the wedding. My biological family did not matter anymore; it was all merged into a greater unity. Secretly I thought it was terrible not to be able to attend the wedding. I found out later that my sister had also been deeply wounded by my absence.

It was even worse when my grandmother died. On her deathbed, she had specially asked for me. But Lella, who was  to bring me there, delayed everything so long that, when we eventually reached the hospital, my grandmother had already passed away. Other family members had been there on time—only I was too late. I felt an intense anger and pain inside. But I immediately knew to put a smile on my face, because my feelings did not matter. I knew that, didn’t I?”

https://web.archive.org/web/20200618084714/https://www.icsahome.com/articles/i-really-believed-that-this-way-of-living-was-right-goudsmit-it-2-3

'Lella' obviously delayed everything deliberately. Subtle sabotage and undermining are common practices in cults.

I said this on the old forum:

“It is a very sad subject. The members who cut connections with their families might have a terrible awakening one day when they realise how much suffering they have caused and that it was all for nothing.”

I might add that it is just as excruciatingly painful when they realise how much of the suffering that they have endured was all for nothing.

Beverley Nichols and an ungrateful Conan Doyle

I came across some unexpected material while looking for information about the novelist Beverley Nichols, who is of interest here mainly because of his children's books: I found some connections to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle that are worth highlighting. 

While Conan Doyle's best-known fictional character is a private detective, he also created a witch; conversely, while the witch Miss Smith is one of Beverley Nichols's best-known  characters, he also created a private detective: this was Horatio Green, who appears in five crime novels.

As previously mentioned, Beverley Nichols wrote a book to support the official British position on India; Conan Doyle too produced propaganda materials for the government - this was during the First World War.

Both Nichols and Conan Doyle were contributors to The Strand Magazine; incidentally, Winston Churchill, who was friends with these men and admired their writing, wrote several articles for this magazine.

Beverley Nichols hated his father, who like Conan Doyle's father was an alcoholic; Conan Doyle is said to have come to hate his 'son', Sherlock Holmes.

The mystery of the biography
Another minor mystery in Beverley Nichols's life involves a completely false rumour that he was writing a biography of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle! 

From his 1948 letter to someone who offered to help him with the book:

“Dear Dr. Ernest,  Thank you so much for your kind offer of assistance. I do appreciate it as such, but I have to confess that this is the first I have heard about my forthcoming biography on Conan Doyle! The subject would certainly prove to be an interesting one, but he cannot imagine how the idea originated. 'It is all most mysterious.' “

Perhaps some people learned that Nichols had written an article about Conan Doyle in the past, and Chinese whispers turned this into writing a whole book about him in the present.