Galsworthy’s attack on middle class Victorian morals, marriage law and social convention in

Between the Acts:
Galsworthy’s attack on middle class Victorian morals, marriage law and social convention in
The Man of Property in The Forsyte Saga

In his novel The Man of Property, John Galsworthy’s character the Rev. Scoles, poses the following question. “For what,” he said, “shall it profit a man if he gain his own soul but lose all his property?”ⁱ In these few words it may be surmised that Galsworthy neatly sums up his own ambivalent feelings towards the upper-middle class of Victorian England. Described by Geoffrey Harvey as a ‘fitful satirist (…) of the commercial upper-middle class to which he belonged’,ⁱⁱ Galsworthy with subtle but biting humour and sharp perceptiveness, used his novel as a vehicle not only to criticize Victorian social convention, morals and the laws governing marriage, but also the hypocrisy inherent in these practices. Although ‘an unusually sensitive member of his class’ⁱⁱⁱ according to J.B. Priestly, Galsworthy’s own personal experiences may, to a certain extent, have coloured his view of the society and times he lived in, thus rendering him a less than impartial observer of his own class. This may help to explain his ‘fitful’ satiricalness, for one cannot help but feel Galsworthy’s sympathy as well as censure for his characters, especially in his portrayal of Soames Forstye. Yet, although Galsworthy reserves harsh criticism for the acquisition of wealth in this novel, his criticism of social convention, in particular, is interspersed with a wry humour that makes the convention-bound Forsytes at the same time both sympathetic and exasperating.

Social convention was the refuge of the family unit, which regardless of its social class, was prey to internal strife caused by conflict among family members as well as seemingly uncontrollable external threats engendered by political, social and economic factors. In short, these dangers, both real and imagined, were ‘kept at bay by observance of accepted rules and conventions where family members play their expected roles.’^iv For Soames Forsyte, the ‘man of property’ in the title of the novel, the accumulation of the various types of property, ranging from houses, paintings to a wife, was just one indication of conformity to social convention which judged a man by the quality and quantity of his possessions. To own property, especially of the residential kind was to give meaning to be social convention of being seen to be a solid and respected member of Victorian society, a bastion against the ‘subversive autonomy of beauty and art.’^v It may be argued that the conception and construction of the house at Robin Hill is a nod to both a principle expounded by Thompson, that the middle-class house ‘encouraged [its] occupants to conform to a stereotype of respectability’^vi and conversely, a challenge to this ingrained respectability, since the architect Bosinney’s innovative design for the house was a challenge to the aforementioned notion. ‘Space, air, light’, he heard Bossiney murmur, ‘you can’t live like a gentleman in one of Littlemaster’s – he builds for manufacturers.’^vii Although initially a shock to both Soames and other members of the Forsyte family, they appeared over time to be seduced by the house’s seductive originality. However, it would be wrong to assume that the beauty of the architecture was solely responsible for a change in Soames – ‘to live here, in sight of all this, to be able to point it out to friends, to talk of it, to possess it (my emphasis).’^viii Ever practical and ever a Forsyte, Soames sees the house as having an important purpose, where ‘its size, appearance, style and location [were] plainly visible as a statement of the owner’s precise place in the social hierarchy.’^ix Let us not forget too, that the house was also built to house Soames’s other valuable possessions – his paintings and …his wife.
The security offered by social convention was also apparent in physical appearances, namely the strict Victorian dress code, which enabled members of the upper middle class to distinguish themselves from the lower class. Bossiney’s rather Bohemian style of dress was a cause for concern among the Forsyte family members. The family had, in fact, a ‘regard for appearance which should ever characterize the great upper middle class.’^x June’s engagement to Bossiney and his introduction to the family circle at old Jolyon Forsyte’s ‘at home’, was the setting for an incident which Galsworthy describes with consummate skill and humour, while at the same time conveying a pertinent message about the importance about outward appearance. Bossiney’s disreputable hat left on a hall chair, was mistaken for a cat by short-sighted Aunt Hester and became the subject of much discussion among the family for ‘those unconscious artists – the Forsytes- had fastened by intuition on this hat; it was their insignificant trifle, the detail in which was embedded the meaning of the whole matter.’^xi In this way, Galsworthy’s tongue-in-cheek observation drew attention to the fact that ‘details of dress, always associated with status [were] increasingly subtle indicators of class rank.’^xii
One social convention that characterized the Victorian period in particular, was the ‘at home’ so beloved of upper-middle class society. These gatherings of family, friends and social acquaintances had far more significance than simply allowing social calls to be paid. They played a vital role in the dissemination of information, the judging of the character of various individuals, discussion of issues affecting family unity and, decisions as to the suitability or otherwise of the inclusion of new members into the family circle. These ‘at homes’ were rituals of a society where etiquette reigned supreme, or as Galsworthy refers to them in the novel ‘an emporium … where family secrets were bartered and family stock priced.’^xiii Indeed, Galsworthy ironically refers to the Forsyte family gatherings as the ‘Forsyte Change’, an exchange where not only was news exchanged, but in a society obsessed with material wealth, financial tips also made it reminiscent of the Stock Exchange.^xiv As Geoffrey Harvey observes, the ‘gatherings at Timothy’s’, which scrutinized lapses such as Soames’ failure to control his wife [acted as] an important agency of internal discipline.’^xv For many older members of the Forsyte family, the gossip generated at the ‘at homes’ enabled them to keep in touch with what was going on inside the family and, in the world at large. Yet, despite poking fun at the Forsyte family gatherings and ‘at homes’, Galsworthy admitted that ‘much kindness lay at the bottom of the gossip’^xvi They were, as Harvey points out, ‘an important strategy for reading the function of the Forsyte family as a barometer of cultural change’.^xvii
As concepts, love and marriage were not necessarily compatible, or even necessary, in the Victorian period. Galsworthy, with ironic wit, observed in the novel ‘that one could reckon on having love like measles, once in due season and getting over it comfortably for all time – in the arms of wedlock.’^xviii For men of the upper-middle class, the choice of spouse was governed by prosaic concerns rather than romantic ones, and furthermore, ‘the middle-class image of marriage was clearly one between social equals.’^xix However, Soames Forsyte in his choice of wife did both conform to and contradict these middle-class norms. Irene, daughter of a professor, was Soames’ equal in class, but her lack of fortune weighed heavily against her suitability as a wife causing Soames to comment “I couldn’t help Irene’s having no money.”^xx Soames, smitten by her physical attributes, was prepared to overlook this flaw, but just as he collected art as an investment, so too was Irene considered in the same light as a work of art; she was an investment and her beauty reflected favourably on Soames’ acquisitive abilities. It was this underlying sense of a husband’s ownership of his wife running through Victorian society that caused Frances Cobbe in 1787 to comment that ‘the notion that a man’s wife is his property is the fatal root of incalculable evil and misery.’^xxi
The implications for women, who were thus deemed the ‘property’ of their husbands’, were many and varied. In Irene’s case, her lack of fortune neither worked for or against her in the eyes of the law. A wife’s property automatically became her husband’s and Galsworthy refers to this state of affairs in his description of Nicholas Forsyte; ‘he himself had married a great deal of money, of which it being then the golden age before the Married Women’s Property Act, he had mercifully been enabled to make a successful use.’^xxii From a personal and practical point of view, Irene’s lack of economic independence made any attempt to free herself from her marriage to Soames impossible. “Let you go”, he [Soames] said; “and what on earth would you do with yourself? You’ve got no money.”^xxiii Yet, the prospect of separation or divorce was anathema to men of Soames’ standing where ‘few things threatened the Victorians and their family ideals more than the prospect of divorce.’^xxiv The idea of becoming the target of ‘unpleasant gossip, sneers and tattle that followed on such separations’, was something that Soames, as an individual and as a member of the Forsyte family, was not prepared to endure either on a personal or professional level.^xxv
It would be wrong, however, to believe that the concept of a wife as ‘property’ was simply concerned with material factors such as wealth and houses. A woman’s body upon marriage was no longer her own, a view sanctioned by the teachings of the Church and validated by the law, a fact of which Soames was fully aware. ‘She [Irene] had no business to make him feel like that – a wife and a husband being one person.’^xxvi Irene’s refusal to do her wifely ‘duty’ and deny Soames his conjugal rights culminated in Irene’s rape by her husband and her subsequent decision to abandon him for Bosinney. Legally, although not morally, Irene had no case against Soames for this act of violence for ‘in theory a married woman’s body belonged to her husband and he could enforce his right to her domestic and sexual services by a writ of habeas corpus.’^xxvii For Soames, ‘her conduct was immoral, inexcusable, worthy of any punishment within his power.’^xxviii Galsworthy was careful not to let the hypocrisy of the situation go unnoticed in the novel, and his allusion to the rape scene is expressed with masterly understatement – ‘the morning after a certain night on which Soames at last asserted his rights and acted like a man…’^xxix Yet, one cannot help but feel a certain sympathy with Soames despite the seriousness of his action, and it is Galsworthy’s skill in allowing us a glimpse of this intensely private man, that enables the reader to feel, if not sympathy, then at least an element of understanding as to what drove him to commit this act of rape. It is to Galsworthy’s credit that while attacking the immorality of the position of women in marriage in Victorian society, he is also able to present both sides of a complex situation. This may be due in part to what D. B. Pallette describes as Galsworthy’s own ‘experience of frustrated passion of sharing his loved one with the husband who legally possessed her.’^xxx To what extent this may be true or not, it does not alter the fact that Galsworthy was master of using the ‘contrary rhetoric of sympathy and irony’ in his work.^xxxi
Galsworthy’s critique of the commercial aspect of marriage, the inferior position of married women and the injustice of the divorce laws towards women, was all part of his attack on the hypocrisy of Victorian morality in general. The very foundations of British society appeared to be under threat from the double standards operating in Victorian society whereby sexual intrigues, prostitution and pornography were rife. For the champions of upper-middle class and middle class respectability, ‘social tone, status and morality, as well as property values’, were being undermined.^xxxii However, even within the Forsyte family, the outward appearance of respectability disguised moral transgressions. Old Jolyon’s son, Young Jolyon, who had eloped with his daughter’s governess and who lived in sin with her until the death of his wife, had shown a blatant disregard for the tenets Galsworthy refers to in the novel as ‘do not offend the susceptibilities of society, do not offend the susceptibilities of the Church.’^xxxiii Although for the sake of propriety and the eyes of society Old Jolyon severed relations with his son, he was, nevertheless, unable to erase his love for him. Old Jolyon pondered the seeming contradiction; ‘his son, ought under the circumstances, to have gone to the dogs; that law was laid down in all the novels, sermons and plays he had ever heard and witnessed.’^xxxiv Despite Young Jolyon’s actions contravening the rules of respectable society and morality, Old Jolyon had no time or patience for the hypocrisy of a society that valued outward appearances more than genuine values. One might imagine Galsworthy expressing his own sentiments in the form of Old Jolyon’s outburst – ‘society, forsooth, the chattering hags and jackanapes – had set themselves up to pass judgement on his own flesh and blood.’^xxxv
Fidelity in marriage, as seen in the case of Young Jolyon, was another false ideal exposed in Galsworthy’s novel. When Holy wedlock became holy deadlock, as long as discretion was observed, husband and wife invariably went their separate ways.’^xxxvi In reality, such scandals were the life blood of the gossip that circulated at family and social gatherings, where judgements were passed and reputations, predominantly female ones, it must be said, were tarnished. Euphemia Forsyte, on sighting Irene meeting Bossiney, was of the impression that women like Irene who possessed ‘such figures, were she knew, by intuition rather than experience, rarely connected with virtue.’^xxxvii The older Forsytes’ belief that ‘nothing could surely come of it, for neither of them had any money. At the most a flirtation, ending as all such attachments should, at the proper time’ proved to be wrong and only Bossiney’s death ended the attachment in a ‘timely’ fashion. As for Soames Forsyte, ‘since she [Irene] had locked her doors, she had no further claim as a wife and he would console himself with other women.’^xxxviii Any moral transgressions, therefore, were laid firmly at the door of the female. The perceived breakdown of moral standards was considered a threat to the institution of marriage and Galsworthy clarifies this further when he states, ‘the sanctity of the marriage tie is dependent on the sanctity of the family, and the sanctity of the family is dependent on the sanctity of property’, thus bringing his critique of Victorian society full circle.’^xxxix
As a life-long campaigner against social inequalities, Galsworthy had the rare ability to be able to stand back from the society he was born and raised in and cast a critical eye over aspects that others of his generation either failed to see or chose to ignore. In his creation The Man of Property, the first book of The Forsyte Saga, this late nineteenth century/early twentieth century example of the Roman-Fleuve or Saga novel, Galsworthy created a social critique of upper-middle class families of his time. His satirical observations were, nonetheless, tempered by other more generous qualities; sympathy for the faults of his characters, tolerance of their foibles and, an understanding of their fears of an uncertain future that seemed so far removed from the stability and the security that a generations of older Forsyte family memebers had grown up in. Although it may be likely that the character of Irene Forsyte was based on his wife Ada, it is to Galsworthy’s credit that he does not present her as a paragon of virtue, nor does he allow personal experience to influence his authorial voice since Galsworthy’s natural sympathy towards Irene is tempered by his own understanding that, whether right or wrong, social conventions could not be flouted with impunity. One can also not help but admire Galsworthy’s portrayal of the indomitable spirit exhibited by the older members of the Forsyte family, and we should be wary of falling into the trap of criticizing them for their perceived hypocrisy since, whether we like it or not, so many of the tarits that Galsworthy draws our attention to, are still prevalent in today’s society. Saga novels are still in existence today, and their natural heirs, soap operas, still exert a fascination, involving us as they do in family affairs, sexual intrigues and fears about the breakdown of the society we live in. Just as Galsworthy did in The Man of Property, they offer a critique of our contemporary society, addressing those perennial issues of social conventions and morals, marriage and divorce and remind us that no generation can afford to be complacent or smug about its own behavior on such matters.

Bibliography
Primary Text
Galsworthy, John. The Man of Property in The Forsyte Saga (Poole: New Orchard Editions Ltd., 1986).
Secondary Texts
Harvey, Geoffrey. Reading The Forsyte Saga, The Yearbook of English Studies, Vol. 26 (1996), pp.127-134.
Langland, Elizabeth. ‘Nobody’s Angels: Domestic Ideology and Middle-Class Women in the Victorian Novel’, in PLMA, 107:2 (March 1992), pp. 290-304.
Pallette, D. B. ‘Young Galsworthy: The Forging of a Satirist’, Modern Philology, 56:3 (February 1959), pp.178-186.
Perkin, Joan. Victorian Women (London: John Murray Publishers Ltd.,1993).
Priestly, J. B. ‘Modern English Novelists: John Galsworthy.’ The English Journal, 14:5 (May 1925), pp. 347-355.
Purchase, Sean. Key Concepts in Victorian Literature (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006).
Thompson, F.M.L. The Rise of Respectable Society: A Social History of Victorian Britain 1830-1900 (London: Fontana Press, 1988).

i^ John Galsworthy, The Man of Property (Poole: New Orchard Editions Ltd., 1986), p.43. Hereafter cited as Galsworthy.

ii^ G. Harvey, Reading the Forsyte Saga’, The Yearbook of English Studies, Vol. 26, ‘Strategies of Reading: Dickens and After, Special Number (1996), pp. 127-134, p. 127.

iii^ J.B. Priestly, ‘Modern English Novelists: John Galsworthy’, The English Journal, 14:5 (May, 1925), pp. 347-355, p.348.

iv^ F.M.L. Thompson, The Rise of Respectable Society: A Social History of Victorian Britain 1830-1900 (London: Fontana Press, 1988), p.89.

v^ Harvey, op .cit., p.128.

vi^ Thompson, op. cit., p.76.

vii^ Galsworthy, p.90.

viii^ Ibid. p.57.

ix^ Thompson, op. cit., p.152.

x^ Galsworthy, op. cit., p.8.

xi^ Ibid. p.6.

xii^ E. Langland, ‘Nobody’s Angels: Domestic Ideology and Middle-Class Women in the Victorian Novel’, PLMA, 107:2 (March 1992), pp.290-304,p.293.

xiii^ Galsworthy, op. cit., p.46.

xiv^ Ibid. p.128.

xv^ Harvey, op. cit., p.132.

xvi^ Galsworthy, op. cit., p.128.

xvii^ Harvey, op. cit., p.131.

xviii^ Galsworthy, op. cit., p.130.

xix^ Thompson, op. cit., p.99.

xx^ Galsworthy, op. cit., p.10.

xxi^ Joan Perkin, Victorian Women (London: John Murray Publishers, 1993), p.113.

xxii^ Galsworthy, op. cit., p.19.

xxiii^ Ibid. p.202.

xxiv^ Sean Purchase, Key Concepts in Victorian Literature (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006), p.65.

xxv^ Galsworthy, op. cit., p.199.

xxvi^ Ibid. p.62.

xxvii^ Perkin, op. cit. p.118.

xxviii^ Galsworthy, op. cit. p.224.

xxix^ Ibid. p.258.

xxx^ D.B. Pallette, ‘Young Galsworthy: The Forging of a Satirist’, Modern Philology, 56:3, (Feb., 1959), pp.178-186, p.178.

xxxi^ Harvey, op. cit., p.128.

xxxii^ Thompson, op .cit., p.175.

xxxiii^ Galsworthy, op. cit., p.199.

xxxiv^ Ibid. p.30.

xxxv^ Ibid. p.81.

xxxvi^ Perkins, op. cit., p.113.

xxxvii^ Galsworthy, op. cit., p.139.

xxxviii^ Ibid. p.224.

xxxix^ Ibid. p.199.