Philippa

[from The Evening Express, Sat Nov 28, 1896]

Mrs. Molesworth's style is always sincere and satisfactory, and this time she tells us a very fetching tale of Philippa Raynsworth, who, however, for such a good and sensible girl, did a very extraordinary thing.

Philippa's pretty young sister Mrs. Headfoot, the wife of an officer in the Indian service, is invited to visit her husband's relatives, to whose estates he is the prospective heir. Marmaduke Headfoot writes his wife that she must take wither her a maid, but money being rather scarce with both Headfoots and Raynsworths, Philippa concocts the daring scheme of going to Wyverston as her sister's servant. It is done without the knowledge and consent of her family. And the reader will see at once that a story with such a plot must be full of all sorts of accidents and incidents which result in many trials and tribulations and unexpected situations, although all comes right in the end.

I first heard about Philippa -- and her author -- like so many others, from Melody's Redeeming Qualities. Melody is a careful, sensitive reader and a wonderful writer and I can't recommend her blog enough. For anyone wanting an introduction to vintage books in the public domain there's literally no better place to start. She doesn't seem to have posted recently, but the archives are rich and deep.

I'm trying to think what I can possibly add to her excellent review. Philippa really does feel, as she says, like a "very kind and human instruction [manual]." I love the close, warm family relationships Molesworth models and the emphasis on seeing the things that are important in a person rather than focusing on their surface: the two male characters most positively portrayed are "ugly" (Michael) and insignificant (Charley) but both have a depth of character -- smart, unselfish, with a "genius of perseverance and steady application" and a "power of sympathy" -- that makes them loved and respected. This as opposed to the handsomer, richer man, who is too egotistical, too conventional, too fastidious in terms of externalities rather than essentials, to be at all admirable. In a sense, Philippa puts an interesting twist to the Pride & Prejudice plot -- and I think this may be intentional as Molesworth references P&P directly (316): what if you thought you had met your Darcy and he turns out instead to be a Mr. Collins? It's thought-provoking fun.

There are a lot of lessons for living in Philippa, but, as Melody rightly notes, they're imparted with a light hand. One contemporary reviewer's take: "The moral of 'consult your parents before acting' is not...made so obtrusive as to offend the independent young women of the day, who object to ethical exhortations in their storybooks" (The Saint Paul Globe Sun Nov 15 1896) Some of Moleworth's lessons relate to navigating the realities of a world laden with gender-based double standards (278); others are just good life advice:

• be forthright -- "A great many things in this often crooked life of ours might be put straight if people were less timorous of speaking out" (279)
• admit your short-comings -- "self-blame disarms any kindly judge" (197)
• don't waste time in regret -- "'If we had but known,' 'if I had any idea of this happening,' 'ifs' without end, and better disregarded." (203)

Like other Victorian writers (see Rosa Nouchette Carey, for instance), a theme Molesworth returns to over and over again in Philippa is how to conduct yourself with grace in the face of life's inevitable sorrows and loss. One of the key side characters, Philippa's cousin, Maida Lermont, "barely thirty" is an invalid who, Molesworth makes it clear, has endured, and still faces, great suffering, but she does so with acceptance, patience, and humor -- she has been made older and frailer by the experience of illness and, at the same time, kept young and vital "by its intensification of her power of sympathy". (9) Like Carey, Molesworth sees trouble and suffering -- "the discipline of sorrow" (350) as a kind of crucible for young people -- women and men -- where their characters are tested, and, ideally, "elevated" (87), and matured. Victorians are looked at, quite rightly, as being a bit morbid, but there is something comforting in this side of their ethos of grief -- something, I think, we can learn from.

Special note: Solomon, the dachshund, is a delightful character. Truly, we don't deserve dogs.

Flag: India, where her sister had lived, is portrayed as being very undesirable.