Part II: How Are Female Gothic Protagonists Portrayed?
This post is the second in a trilogy of articles comparing how authors write male versus female Gothic protagonists. If you missed the first one in which we examined eight popular male protagonists and what they share in common, check it out here. This week we’re going to look at ten female Gothic protagonists from both historical and contemporary literature. This will set the stage for next week’s post in which we’ll look for differences between the two genders in Gothic writing. I’ll give you a hint though: the females surprised me a lot more than the males did!
Note: I’ve organized these by publishing date in order to examine whether some of these portrayals shifted over time and are more similar to others within the same general time period.
Jane Eyre (1847) by Charlotte brontë
The titular character in Jane Eyre is fiercely opposed to injustice, whether it’s her own suffering at the hands of her cousin John, or the treatment of her friend, Helen, at the Lowood school. She’s unwilling to compromise her values, is loyal to her friends and loving family members, has a firm belief in God, and is both strong-willed and outspoken, sometimes to a fault.
The Turn of the Screw (1898) by henry james
The main character, the governess, in The Turn of the Screw, is never given a name. I suspect that James did this in order to pull the readers into the story and see themselves in this role. It certainly fits with the theme. We do see much of her character though. She is very emotionally sensitive, possibly to the point of instability, respectful of others, prone to paranoia but curious enough to push until she ferrets out the truth, and perhaps violent [depending on your reading of the cryptic ending.]
I have a book review of this one and its fascinating theme. You can find it here!
Rebecca (1938) by Daphne duMaurier
Once again, the main character in Rebecca, the second Mrs. de Winter, remains unnamed throughout the novel. The theme of this book revolves around the main character’s preconceived notions of her husband’s first wife. The protagonist is woefully insecure, naïve, immature, and paralyzed by her sense of inferiority in light of the false reality she has created in her mind. And yet she’s also gentle, kind and likeable.
Here’s a book review I did of Rebecca.
The Haunting of Hill House (1959) by shirley jackson
Eleanor Vance sets out to participate in a ghost study of a supposedly haunted house after having cared for her aging mother over the last eleven years. Her sudden emergence into social situations highlights Eleanor’s true state: her immaturity, social awkwardness,and desperate desire to belong; her jealousy and capacity for violence; and her emotional and psychological instability.
We Have Always Lived in the Castle (1962) by shirley jackson
In another of Jackson’s Gothic tales, we see Mary Catherine Blackwood, “Merricat,” who’s pitted against her family (which readers see in retrospect) and against the larger community. Merricat is a much stronger version of Eleanor Vance. She shares some of the immaturity and violent tendencies with her, but is otherwise quite different. Merricat is fiercely territorial and jealous of her relationship with her sister, Constance. She’s clever, witty and unyielding. She could easily be perceived as psychologically unstable, but it’s unlikely that Jackson intended that. Her writing portrays Merricat as justified despite the extent of her actions or what the community might think about them.
For a fascinating look at my favorite Gothic character see the book review I wrote here.
Black Ambrosia (1988) by elizabeth engstrom
Angelina is a vampire…or so she says. And that right there is the point of the book: why does Angelina act the way that she does? What we know is that Angelina is violent. She views herself as a vampire, an angel of death. We might label her simply a serial killer. She’s delusional, promiscuous [though she hates sex], deceitful and powerless to overcome her past or her circumstances.
I wrote a blog post about the psychological underpinnings of this book. It’s fascinating! Find the post here: The Psychology of Black Ambrosia.
The Moth Diaries (2002) by rachel klein
Once again, an author writes of an unnamed protagonist. This time in the context of her stay at boarding school in the wake of her father’s suicide. She is extremely intelligent, suspicious, jealous of her friendship with Lucy, neurotic, depressive and possibly both an unreliable narrator and psychologically unstable [again, depending on how you read the text].
This one is a brilliant study in intertextuality, about which I wrote here. The post also gives a good overview of the book and its protagonist.
The Thirteenth Tale (2006) by diane setterfield
Margaret Lea is a biographer. She’s quiet, intelligent, supportive, thoughtful, and hard-working. But she’s also melancholy and carries with her a secret that colors her view of her own existence and the purpose of her life. She’s brooding and solitary.
[I did not enjoy this book. The protagonist’s suffering felt overblown and contrived (I’m not sure anyone in her situation would actually feel the way she claims to) and the ending of the novel hinges on a plot twist which the author does not adequately foreshadow. There’s one quasi-hint, but it’s so small that no reader could have seen the ending coming even if she managed to see through a sea of red herrings. This felt like a trick to me, one which I did not appreciate.]
Mexican Gothic (2020) by silvia moreno-garcia
Noemí Taboada is independent and strong. She’s courageous, outspoken, smart and witty. At the beginning of the novel, her sense of identity hinges on her her family’s social and economic standing. However, over the course of her battle with the antagonist, she develops a sense of herself as a brave and determined young woman who, though capable, can benefit from the help and abilities of others around her.
In many ways, Noemí acts as an outside savior stepping into a classic Gothic novel, albeit set in Mexico, replete with the traditional helpless female (Noemí’s cousin) and the outrageous villain (her cousin’s new husband).
The House of Whispers (2020) by laura purcell
At the onset, Purcell writes her protagonist, Hester Why, in a particularly unlikable way. She’s an alcoholic on the run from her past, who needs to be needed. So much so that anyone who doesn’t need her should prepare to face the consequences! She’s knowledgeable but selfish, socially competent but deceptive. The fun of Hester is that readers don’t really know where she’ll fall out until the end. If you can bear that, it’s worth a read! It’s also an interesting blend of Fae fantasy and the Gothic, making it particularly unique.
Conclusion
What surprised me most as I surveyed these is the extent to which authors portray females as either unreliable, psychologically unstable, or blatantly mentally ill! And the majority of these are fairly contemporary writers. Don’t take that the wrong way just yet. The genre, with its emphasis on irrational themes, lends itself to that sort of psychological imbalance and exploration. But what’s surprising about it is that it doesn’t seem to be prevalent in any of the male protagonists!
I chalk this up to a modern take on the helpless heroine. Rather than presenting female Gothic protagonists as physically powerless, [relatively] contemporary authors seem to have rebranded her as emotionally powerless.
That’s not to say that these women aren’t intelligent though. They’re just as smart and prone to violence as their male counterparts. But that’s where the similarities end. We’ll look at more of that next week!
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