Pointed Roofs

4.5 stars rounded up<br />My first dilemma is how to review this. Richardson’s classic has 13 novels. I have the four volume virago edition. Richardson did call the novels chapters. It seems to be a choice between reviewing the whole lot as one novel, reviewing each of the virago volumes or reviewing each novel separately. I have gone for the latter option mainly because it gives me a chance to meander a little and go off on tangents, which I am prone to do. <br />Dorothy Richardson is not as well-known as she should be, even reading the first of this series has shown me that. Pointed Roofs was written in the same year that Proust published Swann’s Way and just before Joyce published Dubliners. That is pertinent because the work of the three has been increasingly compared. One of the reviewers of Pointed Roofs used the term “stream of consciousness”; it was coined to describe Richardson’s work, although it appears that she preferred the term “interior monologue”.<br />The protagonist for all 13 novels is Miriam Henderson; the novels starting in March 1893 and continuing to late 1912. This first one covers a mere 4 months in 1893. Miriam is moving to Germany to take up a position as an English teacher in a small German girl’s school. Interestingly this was partly written and published during the First World War, which may have been the reason for the lack of attention, because it is certainly not anti-German. <br />I think my first thoughts about the book focussed on the overall title. Why pilgrimage? We are familiar with the idea of pilgrimage as a spiritually significant journey to a place a special significance. This is the journey of a life, not a religious pilgrimage, so I suspect it may be all about the journey; time will tell. It is interesting to compare with Joyce and Proust. Proust is looking back over a life and looking at the passage of time. Joyce’s Ulysses, set in one day mirrors the Odyssey. There is a sense of journey in Pointed Roofs as Miriam at 17 fresh from school leaves her home and country at a time when more conventional possibilities would have been available. <br />Even though this is the beginning of a journey, there is also a strong sense of the end of something as well. Richardson perfectly captures something that I recognise from when I first left home. Miriam is thinking about how life will continue without her when she has gone; <br />“That summer, which still seemed near to her, was going to fade and desert her, leaving nothing behind. Tomorrow it would belong to a world which would go on without her, taking no heed. There would still be blissful days. But she would not be in them. There would be no more silent sunny mornings with all the day ahead and nothing to do and no end anywhere to anything; no more sitting at the open window in the dining room, reading.”<br />I remember that feeling that nothing would ever be the same again for me as I prepared to go to university; Richardson captures the feeling very well.<br />This is not an all action novel, it is about everyday life and interrelationships. Miriam is not a particularly sociable protagonist, but she is a sharp observer of those around her and the subtleties of human feelings and jealousies. <br />Although Richardson is not as well-known as she should be, there is a whole industry around her and a journal devoted to studying her. There is no doubt that Richardson was breaking new ground in trying outline and construct a female consciousness. A good start to what, I think, will be a fascinating series of novels. <br />I am also reading The Waves at the moment and it will make an interesting comparison.

<b>"'It will make me simply ill--I could never describe to you,' said Miriam, with her face aglow, 'what it is to me to hear some silly man drone away with an undistributed middle term.'"</b><br /><br />Dorothy Richardson was a modernist. Virginia Woolf was a modernist. Therefore Virginia Woolf was Dorothy Richardson. This would be plain before everyone's eyes, but not everyone has the same eyes.<br /><br /><i>"They had dreadful eyes--eyes like the eyes of hostesses..."</i><br /><br />By using those eyes to absorb this text you will gain access to forgotten areas of your past, such as when you had to leave the warmth and familiarity of your home to take a job overseas as a governness at a girls' school. On the eve of your departure, your sadness suffused every sense with a delicate attunement to everything around you, especially your sister's tears.<br /><br />It's time for a makeover, Miriam Henderson.<br /><br /><i>"They performed an uproarious toilet."</i><br /><br />So begins a long sojourn of self-discovery, self-creation, and a multi-volume literary selfie.<br /><br />Literally hundreds of billions of books have been written about protagonists who are special, who are aware they are not like everyone else, whose disdain for false notions and fake people forms an idiosyncratic worldview. The writer of such a book then has a mighty task: to convince you, the reader, that you are also such a person and that is why you identify with the protagonist. The writer must also shield from your mind the idea that, statistically, you likely are not actually this special, that the book has crowds of readers who feel the same empathetic identification you do, perhaps even with better reason. While the feeling each of us cherishes regarding our individual uniqueness is easy enough to access for a competent writer, it's a harder trick to create a character who boasts the oxymoron of being <i>equally unique</i> without alienating all the other readers but you, or alienating you while engaging others. And there's such a fine line between engaging and <i>ingratiating</i>, isn't there?<br /><br />So it seems to me that the writer of this sort of protagonist is better off neglecting attractive <i>particulars</i> of character and betting on the power of a <i>true</i> portrait. I don't mean <i>true</i> in the sense of factual; I mean an immersion of the character in a completeness of experience, a consistent relationship with the day-to-day of the sensual, the psychological, and the social. This book sacrifices many of the conventions we expect of novels toward this end.<br /><br />So what happens? Given the set-up, there is a handful of plots to anticipate: Miriam goes off to teach at a foreign school where secrets are held and there is something sinister to discover; Miriam leaves home for a strange land where she is seduced and abandoned and she must struggle to avoid ruin; she arrives in a new place to meet a handsome but unavailable man and they must overcome obstacles to fulfill their romance (there may even be an alternate man who is unappealing but more "correct" for reasons like class, nationality, family wishes, etc.).<br /><br />Spoiler: none of these things happen. Not a spoiler: really, these things usually do not happen. Spoiler: the ideology of modernism is actually sometimes realism, despite what <b>Wikipedia</b> says:<br /><br /><i>"Modernism explicitly rejected the ideology of realism."</i><br /><br />I believe one should always go with a <b>James Joyce</b> quote over Wikipedia:<br /><br /><i>"One great part of every human existence is passed in a state which cannot be rendered sensible by the use of wideawake language, cutanddry grammar and goahead prose."</i><br /><br />It seems to me that this is not a rejection of realism but a more ambitious version of it, going for portrayal of that "great part of every human existence" which has been unrealistically excluded from supposed realistic novels.<br /><br />So rather than unrealistically hinging on a mysterious secret, a pitiable downfall, or a forbidden romance, this novel's realistic crux is the simple <i>smile</i>.<br /><br />Miriam does not smile enough.<br /><br /><i>"They would be so affable at first. She had been through it a million times—all her life—all eternity. They would smile those hateful women's smiles—smirks—self-satisfied smiles as if everybody were agreed about everything. She loathed women. They always smiled."</i><br /><br />Ok, so it's not <i>just</i> smiles, but what they signal for Miriam about shallowness of personality and social niceties.<br /><br /><i>"Then as she watched their faces as they sang she felt that she knew all these women, the way, with little personal differences, they would talk, the way they would smile and take things for granted."</i><br /><br />And it isn't just about social superficialities, but larger things (oh, and men, too):<br /><br /><i>"those men's sermons were worse than women's smiles... just as insincere at any rate... and you could get away from the smiles, make it plain you did not agree and that things were not simple and settled... but you could not stop a sermon. It was so unfair."</i><br /><br />As she adjusts to life at this new school, Miram is torn between the human desire for belonging, fitting in, and her disdain for superficial unserious people. She resents the pressure to become one or at least act like one. To be <i>ingratiating</i> and <i>pleasant</i> is distinctly unpleasant for Miriam. From clothing (lots of clothing details) to daily habits to accents to (especially) attitude, Miriam is constantly reminded of her difference, so while the book delivers a comprehensive fullness of day-to-day detail, it is by way of this that we inhabit Miriam's mind in her every reaction. But this does lead her to ponder whether her unusual quality is due to her upbringing, her schooling, or something deeper, more essential:<br /><br /><i>"If she had been brought up differently, it could not, she felt sure, have made her very different—for long—nor taught her to be affable—to smile that smile she hated so."</i><br /><br />So it seems: it's just her.<br /><br />And, quite realistically, being immersed in our own self-perception allows in only a few trickles of clues as to how others perceive us. Miriam is slow to gauge these and--when it becomes important--is left underequipped at apprehending how she is seen.<br /><br /><input type="checkbox" class="spoiler__control" aria-label="The following text has been marked spoiler. Toggle checkbox to reveal or hide." onchange="this.labels[0].setAttribute('aria-hidden', !this.checked);" id="c9bbe5f2-66b3-49f9-8042-ca74c2aa7532" /><label aria-hidden="true" class="spoiler" for="c9bbe5f2-66b3-49f9-8042-ca74c2aa7532"><br />It turns out she's something of a sour-puss. The schoolmarm superior whom Miriam's always thought of as cold, strict, and dour chides Miriam about her demeanor:<br /><br /><i>"To truly fulfil the most serious role of the teacher you must enter into the personality of each pupil and must sympathise with the struggles of each one upon the path on which our feet are set. Efforts to good kindliness and thought for others must be encouraged. The teacher shall be sunshine, human sunshine, encouraging all effort and all lovely things in the personality of the pupil."</i><br /><br /></label><br /><br />It's a sensitively and subtley written novel that can make such an exchange a spoiler, a surprise that is dishearteningly confirmed later: <br /><br /><i>"Presently Fraulein laid her gloved hand on Miriam's gloved one. "You and I have, I think, much in common."</i><br /><br />Believe it or not, this shocks, and it does so more <i>realistically</i> than any adventure, morality tale, or romance, no matter how transparently rendered.<br /><br />Now whether or not this is as <i>fun</i> depends upon your tastes. I enjoyed it quite a bit, but I would not want all books to be like this.

So...a quick comment based on skimming the lackluster reviews for this on GR. Most people seem to have problems with what is described as "lack of plot" or "nothing happening" or that the narrative is "disjointed". To critique the work thus is to completely misunderstand it and the intent of its author. <br /><br />If we demand that our writers do violence to the disjointed nature of experience by forcing it into a "plot" we will deprive ourselves of a great deal. DR has attempted to record the consciousness and the experiences of a young woman, not write a soap opera. By doing so she gives us a much more interesting window on the reality of our Being. <br /><br />Personally this reader found the whole thing sped along at a lovely pace and was fascinated to spend time in the mind that had its brief, youthful existence over a hundred years ago. <br /><br />And, finally, my god there are some wonderful sentences in this...she really can write very beautifully indeed. <br /><br />On to Blackwater for me...<br /><br />For those of you interested - I have set up a group for DR here on GR which is slowing growing as a location to store resources about her - feel free to join if you are interested: <a target="_blank" rel="noopener nofollow" href="https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/153801-dorothy-richardson">https://www.goodreads.com/group/show/...</a>

I was aware of Dorothy Richardson for a long, long time without ever reading her work.<br /><br />When I was very young and Virago Modern Classics were very new, I remember seeing ‘Pilgrimage’, her thirteen novel series, collected in four thick volumes that had covers that were similar but not quite the same. They looked like important works; the kind of books that I ought to read one day but maybe not quite yet.<br /><br />Years later, I looked at those four big books again and I learned how very significant Dorothy Richardson had been. That she published the first complete work of stream-of-consciousness fiction, and from that first novel a whole series of autobiographical novels grew, speaking profoundly of the female experience.<br /><br />It was May Sinclair, who had experimented with writing in a similar form, who described Dorothy Richardson’s style as ‘stream-of-consciousness’, and while I can’t say that it’s wrong I have to believe that there are better words.<br /><br />To me the word ‘stream’ suggests a rush; and this isn’t a rush, it’s a life being lived. What Dorothy Richardson did in this book is place her readers in her principal character’s position, conveying exactly what she perceived and exactly what she felt. No more and no less<br /><br />Virginia Woolf, who published her own first novel in the same year as Dorothy Richardson, explained that much more elegantly, praising Richardson for inventing “the psychological sentence of the feminine gender ….. is used to describe a woman’s mind ….”<br /><br />I collected the four Virago volumes, and the first volume of Pilgrimage was sitting on my bedside table a year or two ago, when I went to hear Louisa Treger speak about Dorothy Richardson and about ‘The Lodger’, her first novel, inspired by the author’s life and writing. She spoke with such erudition and such love that I was inspired. And she reminded me that Dorothy Richardson wrote thirteen novels, not four volumes, and that I could – and maybe should -read them one novel at a time.<br /><br />A single novel felt so much more approachable that a think omnibus edition; and now that I have read that first novel I have to say that I do hope that some day Pilgrimage will be published as it was written, in thirteen small volumes. Because, though I thought it would be difficult, it wasn’t; it was fascinating to be drawn in, to identify completely, with one woman.<br /><br /><i>“Miriam left the gaslit hall and went slowly upstairs. The March twilight lay upon the landings, but the staircase was almost dark. The top landing was quite dark and silent. There was no one about. It would be quiet in her room. She could sit by the fire and be quiet and think things over until Eve and Harriett came back with the parcels. She would have time to think about the journey and decide what she was going to say to the Fraulein.<br /><br />Her new Saratoga trunk stood solid and gleaming in the firelight. To-morrow it would be taken away and she would be gone. The room would be altogether Harriett’s. It would never have its old look again. She evaded the thought and moved clumsily to the nearest window. The outline of the round bed and the shapes of the may-trees on either side of the bend of the drive were just visible. There was no escape for her thoughts in this direction. The sense of all she was leaving stirred uncontrollably as she stood looking down into the well-known garden.”</i><br /><br />‘Pointed Roofs’, the first of these thirteen novels, opens as Miriam Henderson is leaving home for the first time. She is sensitive to the fact that she is the first to leave, that home life will carry on without her, but she knows that it is time for her to take her first steps out into the world. Because her family’s finances are strained – her mother is in poor health and her father’s business is struggling – she has accepted a job as an English teacher in Fräulein Pfaff’s finishing school in Hanover for German and English girls.<br /><br />Because she has barely finished her own education, Miriam is concerned about how she will be able to teach, and how she will cope with the questions her students may ask. She finds though that she barely has to teach at all; she is simply expected to read and converse English with the German pupils, and accompanying them on outings and errands. That seems simple, but of course settling into a first job and learning to live with others is never straightforward. There is much in Miriam’s experiences that will strike a chord with anyone who has done those things. Her relief is tempered with disappointment, because she appreciate the very good education that she had received.<br /><br />Miriam steps out into the world at a time when it was changing rapidly. Fräulein Pfaff, and many of her staff, have traditional views, and see decorum and the making of a good marriage as all important. Her students are a little more modern in their outlook, a little freer in their behaviour, but they still see marriage and motherhood as their future roles. Miriam is a little different. She is uncomfortable in their world; her interests and concerns are quite different from theirs, and so she frequently misunderstands who it going on and fails to pick up on many things that are unsaid; she does know that she is looking for something more from life.<br /><br />The narrative style highlights all of this. It’s a little like the third person, but it isn’t quite that because it is composed entirely of Miriam’s perceptions. The prose moves quite naturally between her perceptions, her thoughts and her emotions. Her observations are clear and precise, but her thoughts are often more complex, and ellipsis are used to very good effect as she moves between different trains of thought and works through ideas and emotions. There are times when she finds resolutions, but there are also times when she can’t – or maybe won’t.<br /><br />The story is a little episodic. There is time spent in the classroom, a musical evening, writing letters home on a Saturday, trips out, the school hair-wash, an unexpected chance to play the piano, a trip to the country, a thunderstorm in the night. That well works well with the prose style; each episode feels like a point in a life that might be remembered.<br /><br />Because I only had Miriam’s perceptions to guide me it sometimes took time to understand what was happening, who all of the characters were, and there were some things that I never come to understand as well as I might have with a more traditional narrative. But coming to understand Miriam – a complex, sensitive, intelligent young woman, just a little ahead of her time – and sharing her world and her life was completely captivating.<br /><br />I thought reading might be difficult but it wasn’t; and the prose was so lovely and so right that I feel clumsy as I try to write about it.<br /><br />I was tempted to pick up the next book straight away, to find out where life takes her and how it changes her, but I resisted. I wanted to read ‘Pointed Roofs’ in its centenary year and I did, and now I want to read a book a month this year, to move steadily through Miriam’s life and to appreciate everything that her life and times have to offer.<br />

I enjoyed it, but I wasn’t blown away. I recognize her trailblazing use of stream of consciousness, but there wasn’t enough there there for me. Richardson is quite adept at portraying the gyrating opinions in a state of consternation, or even contemplation, but in retrospect I’m not totally at ease with her approach to switching back and forth between stream of consciousness and straight narration. Keeping in mind that Miriam is just 17 or 18 years old here, and Richardson is experimenting with a new way of writing, I will probably persevere for at least one more volume to see where she goes.

This first volume from Richardson's 13-volume 'Pilgrimage' introduces us to Miriam. Told mostly through Miriam's inner monologue and subjective observations, we follow her transition from daughter in England to governess at a girl's school in Germany. Self-conscious and unsure, Miriam's emotions ebb and flow from moment to moment, at times in the present, others spent briefly in the past, we "know" her only as well as she tries to know herself. An interesting expedition into the thoughts and feelings of a young woman beginning her adult life.

A snow day gifted the time to complete this, reading steadily in my bright, quiet family room, or saal, as Richardson had me imagining it.

Alas, it didn't take long for me to feel underwhelmed.  Wikipedia also states that Richardson (1873-1957), is also considered an important feminist writer, because of the way her work assumes the validity and importance of female experiences as a subject for literature.  I try not to be disloyal to the Sisterhood but while I agree that any experiences can be a subject for literature, they must be rendered sufficiently interesting to maintain the attention of the reader.  I could not muster the slightest interest in Miriam Henderson and the petty dramas of the German boarding-school where she becomes a governess.<br /><br />Yes, I was bored by Pointed Roofs.<br /><br />To read the rest of my review please visit <a target="_blank" rel="noopener nofollow" href="https://anzlitlovers.com/2022/01/26/pointed-roofs-pilgrimage-1-by-dorothy-richardson/">https://anzlitlovers.com/2022/01/26/p...</a>

According to J. D. BERESFORD, I have read “Pointed Roofs” three times.<br /><br />This is my second time and I really liked it.<br /><br />Free download available at <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/3019" rel="nofollow noopener">Project Gutenberg</a>.<br /><br />This is the first book of a series of 13 books. To be followed.

Should be 'rooves'.