Please comment as you feel inclined on the following. This picks up and expands upon Chris’s earlier comments, and I realise it may be controversial!
Tolkien and Gaudy Night by Dorothy L. Sayers
In keeping with our current theme of looking at books that relate to Tolkien in various ways, I chose to investigate why Tolkien expressed such a profound dislike of Sayers’s Gaudy Night while approving of her earlier Peter Wimsey books (Letter 71). The conclusion I came to is that his reaction has nothing to do with the story as a crime novel, but a good deal to do with its setting and its reflection of social and academic change, although this was not the context in which he expressed his objections. So I will deal with the possible objections relating to academia first before looking at the context in which Tolkien expressed his dislike.
Initially, it is worth noting that Peter Wimsey plays a very small role in most of Gaudy Night, which is devoted to the character Harriet Vane. This means that Wimsey’s PTSD (‘shell shock’ in the context of the books), is entirely absent, so there is no shared frame of reference of the kind found in the wholly Wimsey novels, and beginning with its revelation in Whose Body. In fact, Gaudy Night is focussed on female characters, with men playing minor, or supporting roles.
This is definitely NOT to suggest that Tolkien had a misogynistic objection to this focus. The story is set in Oxford, at a fictional all-female college of the kind that had recently been accepted as part of the University. Much of the early part of the story describes the structure and practice of this college, its struggles against the patriarchal nature of the established male colleges and university institutions, and it builds up a picture of determined women providing education for young female students wanting to develop their minds.
It is unlikely that Tolkien was put off by the concept of educated intelligent women. The academic society of which he was a founder member, known as The Cave, promoted the reform of the English School and its curriculum and numbered women among its members, including Dorothy Whitelock the Anglo-Saxonist (Scull and Hammond, Companion and Guide: Chronology, p. 211). Besides his own family, he had also long been close enough to the scholar Elizabeth Wright to write to her of his own difficulties in 1922 and to help her when her husband died in 1944. (Ian will know more about this). Tolkien’s objection, if he had one to this aspect of Gaudy Night, may well have been that it misrepresented the support given by younger male academics to the development of the all-female colleges, and to female education generally.
The novel is, however, particularly strident in places about the struggles of a college for women to be accredited and to flourish. The ‘women’s place is in the home’ attitude is reviewed several times and contrasts with the tensions, academic and personal, of the inhabitants of the fictional college where the usual institutional structure is maintained. This means that the menial and domestic tasks are carried on there by female ‘scouts’ – maids – in other words. This creates a sharp distinction between female academics and students, and their female domestic servants, but housemaids were still employed in many houses, the Tolkien’s had at least one to help out. Nevertheless, this division of labour is the root of the attacks that begin during ‘Gaudy Night’, the college celebration.
The thesis behind the story is that in a specific instance, female education produces conditions in which an educated man’s career has been wrecked, causing his suicide and leaving his less educated wife to take a job as one of the ‘scouts’. Her diatribe at the end of the story is reminiscent in length (though not language) of Molly Bloom’s soliloquy at the end of Ulysses, but the scout’s soliloquy is a political statement on the evils of educating women thereby putting men out of work and undermining their self-worth. Her view is that women should be satisfied to look after their husbands and rear their children. It has nothing to do with equality.
It would be easy to read this as uncomfortably provocative for Tolkien whose own wife was talented and intelligent, but undertook the domestic role while he sloped off to the pub and dinners in college. If this aspect piqued his conscience it may have been because marriage and children inevitably at that time closed off other opportunities for women. Or he may have been Victorian and Catholic enough to accept that ‘inequality’ was part of the Divine Plan to be piously accepted while Sayers was being blasphemously subversive by aligning poverty, loss, and violent revenge with changes in the educational circumstances of women.
So far, this is my perception of possible contexts within the book and the society of the time. The contexts in Tolkien’s letter are, to me, more difficult to grasp. The letter is to Christopher in 1944 and the reference to Gaudy Night begins with Tolkien’s hope that his son will get leave in South Africa ‘Away from the lesser servants of Mordor’. He goes on to allow that ‘in real life they are on both sides’. His next comment opens up the understanding that there is no simple division of good and bad in the real world. He goes on:
‘it does make some difference who your captains are and whether they are orc-like per se! And what it is all about (or ought to be). It is even in this world possible to be (more or less) in the wrong or in the right. I could not stand Gaudy Night.’
If Tolkien was not a poet, with poetic sensibilities to language, the embedded rhyme here – right/Night – would probably go unnoticed, but inadvertent though it may have been consciously, his objection flows from, and is linked all the more closely by that rhyme, to his moral perception of right and wrong. Even in the real world of pragmatic compromise and corruption, the individual can still choose which ‘side’ to be on, but it seems that Tolkien perceives Gaudy Night to blur the lines or disregard the options for moral choice. Maybe this is simply because Harriet Vane had been living in sin before the crisis that brought her to Wimsey’s attention, and their eventual marriage subverted any sense of Wimsey being on the side of the angels. However, Tolkien’s condemnation of ‘The honeymoon one … I was sick’ suggests a deeply psychological reaction when it is expressed in these physical terms. Is it going too far to see in this a reflection of his aversion to CS Lewis’s friendship with Charles Williams, and his sense of loss when CSL got married?