Miss Marjoribanks – Margaret Oliphant

This was a curious Book and definitely one of two halves. Published in 1866 but serialised by Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine from February 1865, my edition helpfully had the break points for each instalment and I read each in one sitting to get a sense of how the original reader may have experienced what is Oliphant’s fifth of six stories set in the fictional town of Carlingford.

The eponymous heroine, Lucilla Marjoribanks, is the literary progenitor of E F Benson’s delicious Lucia and Sinclair Lewis’ Carol Kennicott, a busy-body who ties to organise the Social life of her town to her own whims. It can be read, and probably is these days, as a proto-feminist tract, because this is all that a smart and talented woman can do in a patriarchal society.

But in the first two volumes of the book Oliphant is very much an ironic observer and sets her heroine up for ridicule. Although the third-party narrator of the tale is ostensibly narrating Lucilla’s history from the age of fifteen, when she is sent away to school, only returning three or so years later to make the sole object of her existence for the next ten years to make her dear papa’s life as comfortable as possible, whether he wants it or not, Oliphant’s tone is such that we are directed not to take her projects seriously and to view as the epitome of self-importance.

Lucilla’s principal mission is to transform her father’s Thursday night dinners into soirees to which the better sorts are invited for improving conversation and the opportunity to admire her distinctive voice. We are invited to laugh at the trivial feuds and misunderstandings which inevitably ensue and mock Lucilla’ small-minded provincialism which she believes to be the manifestation of the latest social theories. She has no sense of self-doubt or even an iota of sensitivity for the feelings of others.

Oliphant has created here one of the great comic characters of English Victorian literature. Her manipulation of Barbara Lake, her rival for the affections of Cavendish, the presumed MP-to-be for Carlingford, is skilfully played out but a considerable spanner is thrown into the works when an Archdeacon turns up, causing Cavendish to disappear post-haste. It is clear he has a shady background and much of the second volume is concerned with Lucilla’s attempts to, firstly, find out Cavendish’s secret, then to thwart Barbara’s romantic intentions and, finally, to resolve the situation in a way that would not bring opprobrium to her social gatherings.

There is, however, a very distinctive change of tone in the third volume. We return to Lucilla some years afterwards, her self-imposed ten years of looking after papa’s best interests have elapsed. We have a clever, talented woman with oodles of time on her hands. She can’t take a job that might be an outlet for her talents and organisational abilities, she doesn’t have a vote and cannot engage overtly in political activities. The feminist agenda moves from the background to the forefront.

But this does not stop the redoubtable Lucilla. She throws her energies behind Ashburton who has declared his intention to run for the now vacant position of member of parliament, not least to spike Cavendish’s ambitions. Her behind the scenes manoeuvring of the political sentiments of the menfolk who can vote bears fruit and inspires Ashburton to try and win her favours. The book ends with a surprising twist but you conclude that her chosen husband is one she can dominate and allow her to use her talents to organise the folk of Marchbank.

Oliphant was a prolific author who has fallen into neglect for too long. If you like Trollope, gentle humour, social insight and although it is a bit too wordy, then you should like this book.

Give it a try.