For Next Week: Jean Rhys' Letters (context for the novel)

NOTE: No need to finish the Mansfield book (unless you want to); I want to slowly move on to our final book. There are a few great stories left, but without being able to talk about them in class, it might seem redundant to read and examine a few more. 

Instead, read these excerpts from Jean Rhys' letters during the writing of her book, Wide Sargasso Sea. They give unusual insight into the composing process for an author who was trying to 're-write,' or re-imagine part of Charlotte Bronte's famous novel, Jane Eyre. In that novel, the main character falls in love with a gentleman who is hiding his wife upstairs in an attic--a "madwoman" from the Caribbean who is trying to kill him. Rhys, from the Caribbean island of Dominica, was drawn to this thinly-sketched woman and wondered who she really was. So she wrote a novel to solve it. The letters below outline her ideas, fears, and doubts about the book. After you read these excerpts, answer the question below as a COMMENT (or e-mail it to me). I'll post the first questions for the book early next week. 

To Peggy Kirkaldy, October 4, 1949

“I know Peggy that you don’t care for Americans but they have one great virtue, they don’t stifle criticism. You can write about the Chain Gang or a canned meat factor or a loony bin and what have you and there’s a chance of an audience. But not here! The English clamp down on unpleasant facts and some of the facts they clamp down on are very unpleasant indeed, believe me.”

To Francis Wyndham, March 29, 1958

“It’s difficult for me to explain an unfinished book, this one particularly, and I hope I won’t be tedious—or disappointing…when I was in London last year it “clicked in my head” that I had material for the story of Mr. Rochester’s first wife. The real story—as it might have been. I don’t know why t his happened. I was thinking of something and had a title for it, hadn’t read “Jane Eyre” for years and nearly forgotten [my novel.] However suddenly I was very excited about “The First Mrs. Rochester” and imagined it could be done quickly….It has no connection with any play film or adaptation of “Jane Eyre” who does not appear at all—once perhaps. Mr. Rochester does, of course, but only as a very young man.

It might be possible to unhitch the whole thing from Charlotte Bronte’s novel, but I don’t want to do that. It is that particular mad Creole I want to write about, not any of the other mad Creoles. There were quite a number of them, it seems, and large dowries did not help them…I have no title yet. “The First Mrs. Rochester” is not right. Nor, of course, is “Creole.” That has a different meaning now. I hope I’ll get one soon, for titles mean a lot to me. Almost half the battle. I thought of “Sargasso Sea” or “Wide Sargasso Sea” but nobody knew what I meant.”

To Selma Vaz Dias, April 9, 1958

“I’ve read and re-read “Jane Eyre” of course, and I am sure that the character must be “built up.” I wrote you about that. The Creole in Charlotte Bronte’s novel is a lay figure—repulsive which does not matter, and not once alive which does. She’s necessary to the plot, but always she shrieks, howls, laughs horribly, attacks all and sundry—off stage. For me (and for you I hope) she must be right on stage. She must be at least plausible with a past, the reason why Mr. Rochester treats her so abominably and feels justified, the reason why he thinks she is mad and why of course she goes mad, even the reason why she tries to set everything on fire, and eventually succeeds. (Personally, I think that one is simple. She is cold—and fire is the only warmth she knows in England).

I do not see how Charlotte Bronte’s madwoman could possibly convey all this. It might be done but it would not be convincing. At least I doubt it. Another “I” must talk, two others perhaps. Then the Creole’s “I”: will come to life. I tried this way and that, even putting her into modern dress. No good. At last I decided on a possible way showing the start and the Creole speaking. Lastly: Her end—I want it in a way triumphant! The Creole is of course the important one, the others explain her. I see it and can do it—as a book. About half is done.

I will not disappoint you. Come with me and you will see. Take a look at Jane Eyre. That unfortunate death of a Creole! I’m fighting mad to write her story. But it’s a good book—and so one must be wary and careful. Sober and plausible.”

To Francis Wyndham, April 27, 1959

“I did not mean to be impertinent about Charlotte Bronte. I admire her greatly. Emily [Bronte] also. And I envy them both more than I can say. Sometimes I have wondered if Miss Bronte does not want her book tampered with! This is the effect of North Cornwall which is rather a dour place. Superstition? But so many things have got in my way. Never mind. It will be done.”

To Francis Wyndham, April 14, 1964

“The Bronte sisters had of course a touch of genius (or much more) especially Emily. So reading “Jane Eyre” one’s swept along regardless. But I, reading it later, and often, was vexed at her portrait of the “paper tiger” lunatic, the all wrong creole scenes, and above all by the real cruelty of Mr. Rochester. After all, he was a very wealthy man and there were many kinder ways of disposing of (or hiding) an unwanted wife—I heard the true story of one—and the man behaved very differently…”

To Diana Athill, [Month?] 1966

“I came to England between sixteen and seventeen, a very impressionable age and Jane Eyre was one of the books I read then. Of course, Charlotte Bronte makes her own world, of course she convinces you, and that makes the poor Creole lunatic all the more dreadful. I remember being quite shocked, and when I re-read it rather annoyed. That’s only one side—the English side sort of thing. (I think too that Charlotte had a “thing” about the West Indes being rather sinister places—because in another of her books, “Villette,” she drowns the hero, Professor Somebody, on the voyage to Guadeloupe, another very alien place—according to her).”

QUESTION FOR RESPONSE: Most authors would be horrified by the idea of improving, revising, or "fixing" a classic novel. What makes Jean Rhys want to undertake such a blasphemous effort? Why does she think the novel deserves a 'prequel'? What might be the danger of adding a story to an already famous story, such as Frankenstein, Wuthering Heights, etc.?