The Readers Review: Literature from 1714 to 1910 discussion

So we have now reached the last part of the story of the professor.

What happens to William after leaving M. Pelet's school?

How would you describe the relationship between William and Frances before they are married? After they are married?

We encounter Hunsden again. How does he help William? Are you surprised at his actions?

Please feel free to comment on anything that strikes you about this book.

What is your overall impression of The Professor?

I wasn't particularly surprised by Hunsden's help, or by his continuing to take an interest in William. I often find in life that one cranky guy is drawn to another cranky guy. I did give a snort when Hunsden conveniently inherited the family estate, after Bronte's protestations in the introduction that she wasn't going to offer us providential plot twists.

Except for the master-pupil dynamics I rather liked William and Frances's relationship. They developed a real partnership that worked for them.

The ending seemed excessively Edenic, like a pastoral romance of an earlier century. And that too seemed a bit hypocritical, after the way we were supposed to esteem William as a self-made man, struggling his way through the world. Then it's "Oh, no! He's an idle gentleman after all!" the moment he gets the opportunity to abandon striving.

There were also some creaky bits to the plot that could have been much better handled, such as the consequences of rescuing the boy from drowning. It would have felt more organic if the scene had been described when it happened; instead, it wasn't mentioned until Bronte needed to drag it in so William could appeal to the boy's father for help.

Overall, I felt Bronte didn't have a strong grip on what her themes were. Perhaps the autobiographical basis of the story was never fully sublimated into her imagination.

Here's my review: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...

I thought it was very sweet and thoughtful that Hunsden bought William’s mother’s portrait. Then William gets tweaked and hides it away because he can’t stand owing anything to a friend. And we never hear another word about it - no mention of his beloved mother’s likeness hanging over his mantle later in life.

I was very intrigued in the first paragraph of chapter 25 when William finds Frances crying on their wedding morning. She only said, “It was impossible to help it,” and then voluntarily, though hurriedly, putting her hand into mine, accompanied me out of the room, and ran downstairs with a quick, uncertain step, like one who was eager to get some formidable piece of business over.

The use of the word “voluntarily” was interesting to me. Is this just maidenly timidity- we mustn’t feel too eager? Or is more going on inside Frances’ head that we never get to see? She seems happy with her choice later in life but plenty of women had to make difficult marriage decisions at that time. There would be powerful reasons other than love to encourage a young girl without male relatives, relying on her own ability to support herself, and afraid of being an old maid to choose marriage.

I came close to rating this 3 stars. But that final chapter featured everything about William and his narrative which had come to irritate me so I downgraded to 2 stars. Maybe the story would have benefited by being a bit longer so that final chapter didn’t have to encompass ten years. It does fit with the letter format which Charlotte began with but the story may also have benefited greatly from abandoning that format entirely. There are instances where an author would purposely choose to have an irritating narrator- it definitely shows William’s immaturity- but I don’t get the feeling that was Charlotte’s intent. Overall, I think this was published because it was written by the celebrated author of “Jane Eyre,” not on any merit of its own. Some freshman efforts shouldn’t be seen by the public. Clearly Charlotte had greatness inside but it is undeveloped here.

I found it very irritating that Frances continued to call him Master because she wanted to do it. Really? Frances was an independent woman earning a living and she wanted to call him Master.
To me, that doesn't ring true at all.

That's definitely an interesting moment (Frances crying before the wedding), Jenny--thanks for reminding us. It intrigued me too while I was reading but then I just went on with the story and forgot it. (Please forgive me, Frances, for caring so little about your fear and pain!) Did Bronte intend it simply to show her modesty and womanliness, or did it mean that Frances was settling for the only life she could get? Another problem with limiting the book's point of view to William's perceptions.

That is my main isssue with the book as well, Abigail. We only hear William's viewpoint.
It would be interesting to find out what the other characters thought of him.

I'm still deciding whether to give this 2 or 3 stars. Leaning toward 2, though the second half of the book was a bit better than the first. I figured William and Frances would end up having a school (though I was pleasantly surprised that it was her idea and more her school than his).

As soon as Hunsden said the paintings had been sold, I knew he must have them, but I figured it would make its appearance later.

As for Frances crying, it crossed my mind that she might not have been sure of her decision, but I thought the more likely reason was that none of her family was left to be with her on her wedding day. She was probably missing them, especially her mother and maybe her aunt.

And I agree that many of the plot points were clumsy.

This last section was a letdown. William gets some breaks which he doesn't really deserve. I don't understand about his "hypochondria". He seems to be saying that at his happy time, something bad happened. Was he just ill?

Although Frances is subservient in most ways, she insists on keeping her job, even when they don't need the money. This seems very unusual for the time, and more so for William to agree.

His hypochondria did appear out of the blue.
Maybe he got sick because he has not reason to be angry anymore!

Hehe, Rosemarie, that's fully contrary enough to be true of William, who does love to be contrary! Seriously though, the little hypochondria incident could have been there to make him seem more vulnerable, but it felt to me like a factoid taken from real life that wasn't fully processed into story. A hazard of writing semi-autobiographical novels.

Regarding allowing Frances to work: that is one of the ways in which William and Frances's relationship is egalitarian, despite the whole master-pupil style they adopt--at least by the standards of the day. In our cultural context, it seems ironic that William is allowed to give Frances "permission" to be herself; but I doubt the Victorians would have perceived the irony.

If this were the only book I had read by this author, I would think she wouldn't ever write a really good novel. It sounds like this was published after her success. We see the same thing today, that someone becomes famous and their early work (which may not be very good) gets published.

As I was reading this, I kept comparing it to Villette, which I found completely different. It had some really melodramatic moments as opposed to the lowkey tone of The Professor.

How did you rate Villette, Rosemarie? Would you suggest it? I think you said earlier you weren’t crazy about it. How would you compare it to The Professor vs Jane Eyre?

I read Villette with this group, (the discussion is still open in the Archives) which helped me see a depth I otherwise wouldn't have found by myself. It is a much darker book on the whole.
It was okay, but completely different from Jane Eyre. Of all the Charlotte Bronte books, I prefer Shirley, which is not set in a school or has a governess as the main charactee.

Of the Bronte sisters, I like Anne's works more than any of Charlotte's.

I'm not sure if it's too late to comment on this (or the other book I just commented on) but here are my two bits, for whatever they are worth.

I think this is an underrated book and one I'm so glad was selected for this group read as I would have totally missed it otherwise. It is a flawed book, to be sure, with issues like the magical appearance of hypochondria when it was convenient to the plot or the happy ending (though that's so common in this period, it's hard for me to fault her for it). In many ways, it's a book firmly rooted in the Sentimental Novel tradition with the romance and the happy ending. But it's told from the perspective of a man. And it seems a bit ahead of its time in that its primary theme is about interpersonal power dynamics. I'm not particularly well read in the 19th-century (I've read some but there's a lot in that century), but I can't think of another author who's writing about that topic at that time. William reminds me a bit of the Underground Man in Dostoevsky's Notes from the Underground but --lol-- a little bit more pleasant, believe it or not.

But what was really striking about this book to me was the relationship that develops between William and Frances. A couple of people have commented about how Frances continues to call him "maitre" or teacher/master and that she likes being corrected by him. Now I could think of two reason for this:

1) Bronte wants to soften to blow of making Frances an independent, professional woman after marriage. For British readers (and American), this would have been remarkable if not shocking. In the US during the 19th-century, it was common practice for a female teacher's contract to be terminated upon marriage. I've heard that as late as 1970, a woman could be legally fired in Ireland simply for getting married (or, at least, laws to that effect were still on the books as late as 1970). I was so surprised that William and the school Frances worked for would allow that, I had to look it up to see if that was a thing. What little bit of research I managed suggests that yes, it was, but doesn't appear too common (and, obviously, Charlotte Bronte taught in Brussels so I'm assuming she based this on someone she knew?). And perhaps she was softening the blow for herself as her belief in the independence of women may have conflicted with her own religious beliefs.

2.) Except there's chapter 25 and William's description of their married life.

I then came home, for my home was my heaven; ever at that hour, as I entered our private sitting-room, the lady-directress vanished from before my eyes, and Frances Henri, my own little lace-mender, was magically restored to my arms; much disappointed she would have been if her master had not been as constant to the tryst as herself, and if his truthfull kiss had not been prompt to answer her soft, “Bon soir, monsieur.”

Talk French to me she would, and many a punishment she has had for her wilfulness. I fear the choice of chastisement must have been injudicious, for instead of correcting the fault, it seemed to encourage its renewal...

I hope I'm not being too risque here but this reads like the most stereotypical sort of description of a contemporary power exchange/domestic discipline/BDSM relationship. There are hundreds (if not thousands) of blogs, many written by professional women with advanced degrees, describing a relationship in which publicly they are just that but privately they are submissive to their partners (male or female). Of course, today women have the luxury to play with power with their partners because they are no longer literally the property of their husbands. But while legally Frances would be the property of her husband, her husband essentially gives her the freedom necessary so that she can play with power with him. And play she does. A paragraph or two later, William describes her as a sprite and imp who enjoys sparring with him. And when William introduces Frances to Hundsen, it's to show he has found a partner who is equal to him in sparring, in playing with power.

The problem for someone like Charlotte Bronte is that she would have had no Google to explain what would be inexplicably contradictory feelings of longing to be independent but having fantasies of submission (or even understanding them in terms of sexuality). Yet The Professor feels as much a romance about the sort of ideal relationship she wanted as it is a story about William learning to interact with interpersonal power relationships.

Of course, as many have stated, we never get to hear Frances's POV so we have no idea if she was enjoying the correction as much as William implies. But the fact that he describes her as practically the one in control of how these moments take place (she always cuts him off at 9pm precisely) suggests she may have as much agency here as he does--maybe more as she seems a far more ambitious person than he.

I found this so intriguing I actually found myself dipping into the academic literature/databases for the first time in years as I wanted to see if anyone has published on this. Alas, I've just not had the time to do enough of a search but in the half hour I did spend, I couldn't find anything. But it's not like I really got a good look.

At any rate, maybe this is way too long and I should have made it a blog post? Yet this book was really striking to me in a number of ways. I promise I won't write a tome about books in the future!

Cindy, thank you for your thoughtful and insightful comments.
Your comments are not too long and raise valid points about the book as a whole.

I have read four books by Charlotte Bronte and prefer this to Villette, which has a female protagonist.
Even though William is not the most spritely character, marriage certainly improves him.

Yes, Cindy, thank you for sharing. Your clear explanation of your views has given me a more nuanced understanding of some aspects of Frances’ character that were troubling to me.
As much as William enjoys being the master, he does seem to respect and love Frances and doesn’t push his mastership too far. And often women could be adept at manipulating a relationship while appearing to be yielding. So I can see your point. It’s so foreign to me to think of a woman enjoying that submission game but as you said - it’s still happening today.

That makes sense, Cindy. I guess that's why they're a good match. William likes to dominate (or at least appear that he is doing so most of the time), and Frances likes these dynamics. I guess he wouldn't have married a woman who wasn't willing to go along with it (Mlle. Reuter - was that her name? - would have eaten him for breakfast if he'd tried, and I doubt she would have accepted him if she had been available and he had proposed, whatever William's illusions of her "suddenly wanting him"). Since we don't get into Frances's head, I'm not sure whether she would have liked a less domineering man or not.

Thanks for your insights, Jenny. I do think that while William definitely likes to be the dominant one, Frances is willing (or smart enough) to support this preference. By supporting it, I think it allows for William to give her a type of freedom and some power for herself, but only because he feels secure in his position.

Where it falls apart for me a little is that William, outside of his relationship with Frances, is continually judging and has little grace or patience for others if they don't behave in a way that is close to perfect in his eyes. That he can suddenly alter his behaviour for Frances is not particularly consistent.

However I can appreciate the book as a stepping stone to writing something that is truly a classic, like Jane Eyre. I do wonder what Charlotte would have thought if she knew the book was going to be published. Would she have agreed to it or would she have seen its shortcomings and feel that publishing it would have been a step backward (or a few steps backward)? Sadly we'll never know.

Cindy wrote: "I'm not sure if it's too late to comment on this (or the other book I just commented on) but here are my two bits, for whatever they are worth.

I think this is an underrated book and one I'm so g..."

Cindy, your comments were not too late or too long. They were excellent, and you're right, someone could write a critical essay on the topic you brought up and Charlotte Bronte's mixed feelings.

Anyone can comment on an old thread if they have just read the book or thought of something to say. For those of us who are regulars, we will see that there is a new comment and can respond.