Mind the Gaps

Mind the Gaps

One of the overwhelming characteristics of our class discussions over the course of the semester has been the gaps that are apparent in the writings of the James family.  We began with Alice's diary, written over the course of four years; a meticulous reading done by one of my classmates resulted in a thorough chart of the days over the course of those years on which Alice wrote, contrasted sharply with days on which she did not write. The gaps in her diary overwhelm the content, when studied from this angle. The writings of Alice’s brother, Henry, some of whose texts we have just finished reading, are similarly constructed. Nearly every class meeting we had over the course of our days with Henry James was punctuated with comments about the frustrations we were having with his uncanny knack for leaving his characters at the brink of an event or decision and returning to them after the fact. Henry James does not necessarily leave his readers entirely stranded, but he does frequently punctuate his texts with glaring omissions, leaving the reader to puzzle over, and ultimately imagine, the events he has made absent from the text. 

            We have discussed the benefits and downfalls of this habit of James’, remarking on everything from our appreciation for his willingness to allow readers to shape his omitted events as they see fit to our dissatisfaction with being left out of the plot. I have never encountered an author who can make me feel as though I am on the fringe of the text, scrambling for clues to what may have occurred and relying on gossip and reflection from primary characters to piece together the occurrence from which I have been excluded. Often I found myself feeling like a child who was eavesdropping on adult conversations, aggravated when the speakers’ voices dropped to a whisper when the best and most interesting topics arose. 

            When Anne informed the class of Joyce Carol Oates’ “The Accursed Inhabitants of the House of Bly,” I was thrilled that someone had managed to fill some of the gaps left by James in his short story “The Turn of the Screw.” Upon reading Oates’ story, I became interested in researching the specific passages and portions of “Turn of the Screw” that had peaked Oates’ interest. I wanted to see what clues James had given Oates through his text that led her toward the explicit pedophilia, eroticism, and sexuality that pervades her story. I also wanted to hone in on the ways in which Oates had manipulated James’ text to bring her own story to its full realization. By doing a close reading of both stories, I hope to perform a comparative study that will illustrate the ways in which leaving gaps in one’s text can come to extreme ends. For the sake of the page limit and the most interesting material, I have chosen to focus mostly on the characters of Flora and Miles, and how each story addresses them and affects them.

            The primary difference, and the one that provokes all other differences between the stories, is the choice of narrator. James’ story is narrated (in actuality) by a young man named Douglas, but it is a firsthand account of the nameless governess’ personal experience at the House of Bly, therefore rendering her the narrator. This affords the reader a rare reading experience: a multi-layered, complex narration from a single source. Apart from dialogue between herself and the children or Mrs. Grose, the nameless governess has few interactions with others, thus creating the opportunity for an interesting internal monologue. However, as interesting this may be, it also almost completely shrouds the character in mystery. We do not know the governess’ name, for example, and cannot depend on descriptions of her physicality, personality, or experience from other characters, as these depictions do not exist. This creates one of the gaps that Oates chooses to fill with her own narration, through the ghosts of Miss Jessel and Peter Quint. “The Accursed Inhabitants of the House of Bly” is narrated in a much more traditional style. That is, there appears to be a primary narrator, but secondary narrators and the author engage within the story to the extent that the reader is provided with information about the primary character that the character would not necessarily have provided themselves. I truly would not have noticed this or been able to characterize it as a method of narration without the stark contrast of “The Turn of the Screw.” It is in Oates’ story where we see the fullest representation of the similarities between James’ governess and Jessel; both are young, hopeful Christian country girls, charmed by the mysterious uncle of Flora and Miles and the promise of an irresistible salary with somewhat nominal responsibility. It is these very characteristics that Jessel abhors in the replacement governess, convinced that the affections of her charges will transfer to this newcomer, who will ruin them with her Christian virtue. It is in the first creepy paragraphs of Oates’ story that we begin to see the gaps filled.

            Oates takes some liberties with James’ material, including making no mention of Miles’ death and turning Flora’s outbursts after her outing in the boat into hysterics. “The old house rings, down to the very catacombs, with the mad child's howls, her guttural little barks of profanity, obscenity. Mrs. Grose and another woman servant, accompanying Flora on the journey to London, where she will be put under the supervision of a noted child physician, are obliged numerous times to clap their hands over their ears, for shame.”(Oates) The children are the characters upon whom Oates exercises the most liberty, with extremely interesting results. In “The Turn of the Screw,” when asked by the governess in the last chapter why he has been expelled from school, Miles confesses to having “…said things… only [to] a few. Those I liked.”(James) The story never makes explicit what Miles could have said to boys he liked that would have resulted in his expulsion, but the hints toward homosexuality are difficult to overlook. Oates expands these sexual characteristics in Miles within “The Accursed Inhabitants of the House of Bly,” even going so far as to include multiple instances of homoeroticism between Quint and Miles. 

“It was a habit of his to rush at Quint if he had not seen him in a while and seize him around the hips, burrowing his flushed little face into the eider man as a kitten or puppy might, blindly seeking its mother is teats… Quint would caress him, awkwardly, bend over to kiss the top of his head, then push him away, in a nervous reflex. ‘Miles, dear chap, this is really not what we want!’ he laughed. But Miles held tight, laughing too, breathless and defiant, pleading, ‘Oh, but isn't it, Quint?--isn't it?--isn't it?’”(Oates)

There are far fewer instances of homoeroticism or pedophilia that involve Flora. However, Jessel seems as terrified of losing Flora’s affections as she would be if there were some sort of explicit romantic relationship between them. “Miss Jessel and little Flora became inseparable companions… they picnicked on the grassy bank of the pond…Together they walked white-gloved hand in hand to church…Flora's organdy-ruffled little bed was established in a corner of Miss Jessel's room. On bare Presbyterian knees, beside her own bed, in the dark, Miss Jessel fiercely prayed: Dear God, I vow to devote my life to this child!”(Oates) Oates expands upon Jessel and Flora’s relationship similarly to her expansion of Quint and Miles’, but avoids the more explicitly pedophilic imagery in favor of depicting loyalty and desire bordering on the psychotic (illustrated both through Flora’s eventual madness and Jessel’s undeniable insanity).

Oates’ story is one of the more disturbing things I have read. The explicit pedophilia, rampant eroticism, and extremely unsettling images of madness, especially the madness of Jessel, are difficult to look past. However, upon reading closer, I found myself able to focus on portions of James’ text as they guided Oates’ writing. While Oates is an extreme example of shedding light upon the blank places with which James leaves his readers, her story illustrates the relative ease with which readers or authors can fill James’ gaps for themselves.