A Daughter's Secret

On July 31, 1897, the Illustrated Police News published the second chapter of what appears to be a serialized novel entitled A Daughter’s Secret. The chapter opens with a first-person narrator describing the beautiful and mysterious Clarice Linden, a young, hardworking attendant whose otherwise pleasant nature is characterized by “some great abiding sorrow.” The narrator, later identified as Mrs. Thorne, recounts an evening during which Clarice had been tasked with reading her the morning paper; but before Clarice begins, she sees something therein that causes her to become “pale and motionless as one dead.” Mrs. Thorne implores Clarice to tell her what is the matter, but all she can say is, “Oh, horror, horror!” and subsequently asks to be pardoned for the night. Mrs. Thorne searches the paper but can’t find any clues as to why Clarice reacted the way she did, and when she goes to check on Clarice, she finds her lying undressed on her bed, her face “swollen with weeping and wet with tears.” The chapter ends with the revelation that the event has sent Clarice into a “quiet, hopeless, uncomplaining despair.”

Interestingly, as I began reading the chapter, I automatically assumed that the narrator was male. The language with which the narrator addresses Clarice is very domineering: phrases such as, “When she was what I called on duty--that is, attending to me,” and, “It was strange that one so young and so well qualified to adorn society should shun it as she did,” and, “‘Do not wade through [the paper], my dear,’ I said; ‘select what you think will amuse me.’” The fact that I mistook the narrator for a man, as well as the shock and perhaps even amusement upon noticing my mistake, has made me acutely aware of the subconscious existence of preconceived notions regarding gender dynamics. Moreover, the narrator constantly speaks of her love of Clarice using language that seems particularly romantic: she says, “I had become as much attached to my companion as though I had known her all my life,” and that she “could only pity and love her the more” for her sadness and vulnerability. The language, which is so often affectionate and passionate (if domineering), clearly seems to suggest that the narrator regards Clarice as a love interest of some sort.

The peculiarity of the narration raises questions about the author of A Daughter’s Secret (I did a quick search and couldn’t find any information about the work). Who is the author? Is the author male or female? In what ways might the seeming condescension of the narrator reflect the worldview of the author? How does the narration affect the representation of poor Clarice? Given only this chapter, it is reasonable to assume that Clarice’s story is the focus of the narrative; why might the author believe that her story is important? I found myself desperately wanting to know the reasons for her pain, which is rendered so artfully and vividly by the author that the reader cannot help but pity her. In a way, she reminds me of Tess from Tess of the D’Urbervilles in that she, like Tess, is a young girl whose working-class status forces her to bear her sorrow with utmost resilience. It is known, of course, that Thomas Hardy is the author of Tess, and with this information we can consider the implications of his role as narrator of Tess’s story; for similar purposes, I would like to know who is telling Clarice’s story.