Jamaica Inn : A Reflection of Daphne du Maurier’s Cornwall (VI)

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER

A biography

WRITING CORNWALL

a Setting and plot

b Suspense and mystery

c Daphne du Maurier’s rewriting of Cornwall

d Fact versus fancy

DAPHNE DU MAURIER AND GOTHIC IMAGINATION

a Ghosts in Jamaica Inn

b The « uncanny »

c Boundaries of the self

SYMBOLISM AND lMAGERY lN JAMAICA INN

a Animal farm

b Escape

c Treasure island


c Boundaries of the self

ln a letter to Oriel Malet, Daphne du Maurier wrote « How close hunger is to greed, how difficult not to be confused, how close one’s better nature to one’s worst, and finally, how the self must be stripped of everything before it can understand love. But one can’t tell that to the ordinary reader »[[Letters from Menabilly. Portrait of a friendship, Ed. Oriel Malet
London: Orion Books Ltd, 1994 (80).]].

ln fact, Daphne du Maurier’s use of images of mirroring in the novel seems to echo her latter statement. Because of their resemblance to each other and because of the controversial reactions they provoke in Mary, Jem and Joss
Merlyn are at the root of Mary’s confusion, as illustrated in this extract :

« These fingers attracted her ; the others repelled her. She realized for the first time that aversion and attraction ran side by side ; that the boundary-
line was thin between them. »
(126)

Mary’s confusion towards the two brothers is unquestionably
an important element of the novel. This confusion could
possibly result from Mary’s own sense of her identity,
itself confused, because the characters which surround her,
each more revolting than the previous one, force the main
character to adapt her behaviour.

Consequently, this « chameleon-like » behaviour makes the choice between feminity and masculinity almost impossible. It is essential to examine each identity represented in the novel in terms of the danger they imply for Mary, and to analyse the way these identities merge among themselves, before putting foward any hypothesis about Mary’s sense of her own identity.

The striking resemblance between the two brothers is primarily underlined when Mary encounters Jem Merlyn for the first time :

« He had Joss Merlyn’s eyes, without the blood-flecked lines and without the pouches, and he had Joss Merlyn’s mouth, firm though, where the landlord’s was weak […] » (63)

However, in this example, Mary still focuses her attention on the brothers’ differences, and it is only a few pages later that these differences entirely vanish (« [Jem] looked exactly like his brother » (67)), taking Mary’s confusion to its extreme :

« [Joss Merlyn’s] mouth, so like his brother’s, hovered an instant on hers, the illusion was horrible and complete […] » (175)

ln addition, these similarities are not restricted to the brothers’ faces. Their fingers, too, are identical :
Joss Merlyn’ s fingers are « long », « powerful », « hideous in their strength and grace » (59) ; Jem Merlyn’s fingers are « long and slim » with « the same strength, the same grace, as his brother’s » (126). If Mary’s attention is systematically turned to the brothers’ fingers, it is maybe because fingers, unlike other parts of the body, have the power to touch, to immobilize, and to threaten sexually. As Joss Merlyn underlines, the strings of the world can be held between two fingers (25). As a female, Mary is exposed to male brutality, both verbally and physically. This sexual threat is, for instance, implied several times by Joss Merlyn’s behaviour. ln fact, Joss Merlyn plays the role of the pervert, who would have no scruples about taking advantage of his niece’s situation to satisfy his sexual desire. Many examples illustrate this point and Joss Merlyn’s doubtful intentions (which will however remain intentions) are alluded to by himself as well as by his brother. For example, Joss declares : « I could have had you your first week at Jamaica Inn if l’d wanted you. You are a woman after all » (175).

Jem confuses Mary with his brother’s « fancy lady » (65). Then, mentioning Aunt Patience, he also adds : « Do you turn her out on the floor, or do you sleep all three abreast ? » (63).

Worst of all, these allusions frequently turn out to be direct humiliations, as Mary is compared to « a woman of the streets » (145), or to « nothing but a common slut » (155). The sexual threat is also carried by the smugglers for whom « the presence of a woman [brings] a vicious tang to their enjoyment » (158). The most striking example of the men’s abject attitude towards Mary is illustrated by the following scene, in which Mary only just escapes being raped. ln this extract, physical power, specifically that of the pedlar’s hands, becomes a reality :

 » […] but this time he grabbed at her and lurched sideways upon her, all pretence of gentle persuasion gone, his strength horrible, his face drained of all colour. He was fighting now for possession, and she knew it, and, aware that his strength was greater than hers and must prevail in the end, she lay limp suddenly, to deceive him, giving him the advantage for the moment. » (162)

Jem Merlyn, although less abject than the rest of the company, and perceived as belonging to another race, (he is for example differentiated from the other men by the expression « half-bred gypsy » (109)) also represents the danger of masculinity. He could easily be described as the typical byronic hero, both glamourous and dangerous, involved in mysterious crimes. His activity as a horse thief, his way of life, his « rough brutality of manner » (64) and his possible involvment in his brother’s trade are enough to dishearten Mary. Her disgust towards the attitude of men consequently finds expression in her excessive reaction towards Jem (which can be interpreted as an act of self preservation), when she first encounters him :

« The sight of him looking her up and down and drinking his ale at the same time irritated her beyond measure. […] His manner infuriated Mary, and she leant foward and pulled the pipe out of his hand, throwing it behind her on the floor, where it smashed at once. » (61-62)

Then, even if we learn that Mary knows she « could love him » (122), the reader is soon warned that Mary and Jem are « companions without the strain of being man and woman » (129), and that the emotional bond which exists between them is more representative of « a boyish familiarity » (129), than of the beginnings of a love affair. As implied by the expression « boyish familiarity », Mary’s attitude is often that of a man, and her behaviour differs and adapts
according to the individuals she confronts. For example, she
behaves like a man with Joss Melyn, both to defend her aunt
and to win the struggle against her uncle : « There’s a
certain grim satisfaction in this struggle with my uncle
that emboldens me at times »
(147). Mary constantly has in
mind qualities such as bravery and strength of character and
she also overtly declares :  »l’m strong, I can do the job of
a man »
(9). Later she wonders « why [are] women such fools, so
short sighted and unwise »
(64). ln fact, in the squalid
atmosphere of Jamaica Inn, feminity is far from being an
asset, and Mary accordingly refuses everything which reminds
her of her feminity. Jem Merlyn’s attempt to flatter Mary’s
feminity with « a new handkerchief » (124) is futile, for Mary
coldly replies : « l’ m afraid you’ve wasted your money » (124) .
Jem Merlyn’s dream to be accompanied by « a pretty girl » in
the streets of Launceston is hopeless. Rather, Jem finally
accepts Mary’s wish to have been born a boy : « If you must
be a boy, l can’t stop you »
(195). On the other hand, Mary’s
attitude is completely reversed when she is confronted by
her aunt. Rather than behaving like a man, she seems to play
the role of a mother. She treats Aunt Patience as if she
were « a child on her hands » (72). Indeed, Aunt Patience’s
behaviour is that of a child and the vocabulary used to
depict her is the same used to describe the behaviour of a
frightened little girl : she « blabber[s] incoherently » (73),
she keeps « working her mouth nervously » (76) or « twists her
hands in her dress »
(74). This childlike attitude reveals a character who lives in complete submission to her husband.

And it is this very submission which deeply revolts Mary and
feeds her struggle against men. However, the reader is
surprised to note that, once she is at Jem Merlyn’s place on
the moors, she imitates her aunt’s behaviour. Interestingly,
at Jem’s side the rebellious girl abandons her principles
and momentarily transforms her attitude into that of a
submissive and possible wife. She lays the table and cooks
Jem’s supper in response to what is almost an order : « I
always say there’s two things women ought to do by instinct,
and cooking’s one of them. […] You’ve come in good time to
cook my dinner »
(102-103). The reader is taken aback to
witness what resembles one of Aunt Patience’s ordinary
domestic scenes and discussions, through Mary’s actions
« Take your hands away. The plate’s hot » (103). Mary’s female
instinct is therefore underlying, and obviously reappears in
this scene. It is maybe no accident that a few words later
the reader also witnesses Mary’s confusion towards her own
identity, strikingly depicted as Mary sees her distorted
reflection in the mirror. Indeed, the woman reflected in
« the tell-tale mirror » (120) seems to be nothing other than
the very shadow of Aunt Patience :


« For the first time in her life she saw a
resemblance between herself and Aunt Patience. They
had the same pucker of the forehead, and the same
mouth. If she pursed up her lips and worked them,
biting the edges, it might be Aunt Patience who stood there, with the lank brown hair framing her face. »
(120)

Mary’s image, horribly transformed into Aunt Patience’s
reflection, represents a threat to her happiness. To some
extent this scene may be intended to prevent Mary from
becoming this woman, who is a caricature of female
submission. As we have seen, all the identities which
encircle Mary have managed to destabilize and confuse her as
well as increase her vulnerability. Furthermore,
her
vulnerability is also emphasized by the massive walls of
Jamaica Inn which « def[y] man and storm » (29) and which
always remind her she is made prisoner… in a prison of the
self. Indeed, it is Mary’s identity, more than her physical
body, which seems definitely imprisoned. Thus, as suggested
by Eugénia C. Delamotte, « confronted with a prison wall, a
locked door, a black veil, a mask, the edge of a precipice, the self runs up again and again against its mortality »
[[Eugénia C. Delamotte, Perils of the Night. A Feminist study of Nineteenth Century Gothic. 1990. Oxford University Press (119).]].
Consequently, if we borrow Delamotte’s words, Mary seems « imprisoned in the self, in the limitations of mortality »[[Ibid, p 123.]].
She is in fact torn between a masculinity she cannot come to
terms with, and a femininity she completely refutes. So the
vicar, who doesn’t belong to the world which sickens her,
who embodies neither masculinity, nor submissive femininity,
could represent the ideal way out. Yet this way out is only
valid thanks to the
symbolic violation
of physical boundaries, that is to say the windows and barred rooms of
Jamaica Inn.

As in Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights, no physical boundary
remains intact, no barred room remains locked. The desire to
transgress is overwhelming. A few examples of Mary’s desire
for transgression will suffice to illustrate the previous
idea.
The reader is made aware that Mary is stuck inside
Jamaica Inn like a fish in a fish tank, « the broad sturdy
house acting as a screen »
(73), there is « no road of
escape »
(55). However, it doesn’t take long for Mary to
realize that these barriers are not impassable. Indeed, Mr
Bassat’s action of unlocking the barred room symbolically
initiates Mary’ s desire to transgress barriers (she witnesses the scene « with some excitement » (77)). Then, the first striking example of Mary’s refusal to be subjected to physical boundaries is represented through her escape from
the coach, before the wrecking scene. She is determined to break this physical boundary at all costs, and the wounds caused by her action seem to be less important than the satisfaction obtained by this transgression :

« The door was locked, as she knew, but with straining and wringgling she might yet attempt to squeeze her body through the narrow frame. The
endeavour was worth the risk. »
(160)

This destruction of physical boundaries also occurs when Jem
Merlyn « smashe[s] the pane of a glass with his fist » (193),
in order to rejoin Mary, locked in her bedroom. Another crucial element of the text lies in the novel’s ambivalence about the heroine’s reaction to the law.

Indeed, if she is first shocked by the smugglers’ trade because it infringes the law, she soon tempers her judgement. She first considers that « [s]muggling [is] dangerous ; it [is] fraught with dishonesty ; it [is] forbidden strictly by the law » (48) ; but then she wonders if it is « evil », adding later that « [s]he would have shrugged her shoulders to smuggling alone » (58). The law here
represents a moral boundary to defy, and Mary does so
through her companionship with Jem Merlyn. For example, in
Launceston, even though she doesn’t take an active part in
the illegal sale of the stolen pony, she becomes his
accomplice, and to a certain extent breaks the law with him, for she doesn’t impede the deal. On the contrary, this tricky situation creates a sense of excitation, mostly conveyed by the two friends’ laughter (136). At the end of
the novel, Mary disregards the meaning of the law when she
doesn’t hesitate to grab hold of a pistol, and the reader,
knowing the character’s determination, seems to be expected
to think she would use it if necessary :

« Then she levelled her pistol, her finger upon the
trigger, and looked round the corner of the stone
wall to the yard. »
(214)

Thus, this series of examples tends to clarify our
understanding of the message given to the reader, and
implied through the gothic writing style. Indeed, Jamaica
Inn
deals with the self in terms of gender, and reveals the crucial lack of identity of a woman under patriarchal influence. This patriarchal
influence points out the female’s weakness, and consequently, the female rebels both against her social status as the weaker and worthless sex,
and against the conventions established by the ruling
gender. This rebellion is metaphorically expressed through
the heroine’s impulse to get across the barriers, through
her desire of transgression. ln the light of what has been
noted, it can be assumed that Jamaica Inn rewrites sorne of
the Brontës’ themes, expressed in the same way in terms of
mirroring images, physical boundaries, and concern with the
uncanny. Marxist criticism has considered the theme of
submission as being central to Jane Eyre, Feminists have
underlined the treatment of women in society, also implied in the novel[[Sayer, Karen. Jane Eyre. (York Notes Advanced) London: Librairies du Liban publishers, 1988 (73).]]. Wuthering Heights has been interpreted by Feminists in terms of « the strategies and opportunities that
are open to women in the novel »
; gender criticism has
stressed « the ambivalent representations of gender in
Wuthering Heights »
[[Jones, Claire. Wuthering Heights. (York Notes Advanced) London: Librairies du Liban publishers, 1988 (74).]].
Finally, the connections between Jamaica Inn and Wuthering Heights have been pointed out by Avril Horner and Sue Zlosnik’s research : « Alison Light has recognized [Jamaica Inn’s] debt to Wuthering Heights »[[Horner, Avril and Zlosnik, Sue. Daphne du Maurier. Writing. Identity and the Gothic Imagination. ST. Martin’s Press, INC, 1998 (71).]].

Indeed, Jamaica Inn, if not overtly devoted to the writing of women’s social reality in general, seems to provide enough material to read Daphne du Maurier’s subtext in connection with the writer’s fractured sense of her self,
a self which struggles to find its place in society. On this
point, an extract of Eugénia C. Delamotte’s argumentation
could help to justify our reasoning :

« Gothic romance by women represents the hidden,
unspeakable reality of women’s lives
not just their lives in the private inner world of the
psyche, but also their social and economic lives in
a real world of patriarchal institutions. The
oneiric settings of Gothic romance are superficially
removed from that world in space and often in time,
but they nonetheless represent it symbolically. The
oneiric world, set apart from diurnal reality, is
that reality not simply in the sense that it expresses the heroine’s psychological state but also in that it represents her social situation, with its
dominant power relations stripped of their civilized disguise. The conflicts and terrors that reign in that world reveal her place in society, her relationships, her special vulnerability »
[[Eugénia C. Delamotte, Perils of the Night. A Feminist study of Nineteenth Century Gothic. 1990. Oxford University Press ( 165).]].

A perceptive reader may then recognize the hidden message
conveyed by the writer’s gothic imagination. It is perhaps
this very gothic imagination which contributed to Daphne du
Maurier’s self-evolution. And it is precisely on the symbolic level mentioned by Delamotte, that our argumentation will take on its full significance.

Copyright : Ombeline Belkadi (odalavie@wanadoo.fr).

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