Boy meets girl; boy falls in love with girl; boy falls in love with another girl. Essentially, this is the outline of The French Lieutenant’s Woman by John Fowles, except add the Victorian setting, frequent diversions into psychology, and the poetic writing.
The novel removes us from the twenty first century and deftly dropping us in the Victorian era. Intrigue jumps out at us from the very first chapter where, Fowles flaunts his contrarian nature as he refuses to provide any context, including the names of the characters we will grow to know so well.
The wind moved them, but the figure stood motionless, staring, staring out to sea, more like a living memorial to the drowned, a figure from myth, than any proper fragment of the petty provincial day.
It is the late nineteenth century and soon-to-be-married Ernestina Freeman and Charles Smithson have embarked on a stroll along the shore of the English seaside town of Lyme Regis. There they come across the embodiment of scandal: a woman named Sarah, known for aiding a French Lieutenant following a shipwreck with whom she strikes up a romantic relationship, only to be abandoned just before marriage. Allure and mystery surround Sarah as our first image of her is one of an abandoned lover, standing at the bay, staring out to sea, awaiting the return of her lover.
Introduced to Fowles’ psychological experimentation, we are made subject to associationism, a popular theory in Victorian psychology. Upon learning of Sarah’s backstory, our brains are rewired to hold her synonymous with trouble.
Carrying the burden of a reputation as tumultuous as the sea by which she stands, Sarah becomes central to the novel. Following their initial and brief encounter at the beach, John Fowles, the master puppeteer, pulls the strings to ensure that circumstance draws Sarah and Charles together: Mrs Poulteney, Sarah’s employee happens to be a friend of Ernista’s aunt, who brings her niece and Charles to Mrs Poulteney’s home. Intrigued by Sarah, Charles accelerates beyond the line of formality, devoting himself to the petulant woman.
Always wanting what one cannot have runs like a red thread through his novel. John Fowles has burdened Charles with a ceaselessly boring personality, and, with constant emphasis on his sincere interest in fossils, the readers are shocked to experience a shift in Charles’ behaviour, towards the impulsive end of the spectrum. Thus, the readers are invited to question Charles’ interest in Sarah: is it sincere, or a rebellious outlet - is he intoxicated by the concept of freedom? Subservient motivations string this novel together.
We see a parallel between the author and his characters. We are presented with an imminent question surrounding Fowles’ motivations: Is he driven by his love of literature or, rather, his fervent interest in psychology and science?
As the characters refute social construct, the author, too, hurtles past the expectations of literature, placing it in the realm of science. Darwinism is referred to persistently. The theory of evolution is even presented within the characters. Obedient, frail and passive, Ernista Freeman seems to be emblematic of the Victorian woman. By contrast, Sarah is the embodiment of progression and character development. I will leave it up to you to predict who persists in the novel. However, John Fowles, sly as ever, puts us to the test of evolution. As the novel comes to a close, he provides us with three hypothetical endings, testing his readers to see how well we adapt to capricious circumstances.
John Fowles holds a certain confidence in his writing that I have never seen before. The linguistic fervour of his language opens our minds to the scientific propaganda behind it. This is the power of beautiful writing: your message sees no bounds.