Monday, December 4, 2017

Mr. Beebe and Contemporary Attitudes Towards Singles

Mr. Beebe belongs to the novel A Room with a View by E.M. Forster. Mr. Beebe of the novel is not exactly the same character as Mr. Beebe of the movie.

Mr. Beebe of the movie is played with sweet wryness by Simon Callow. He is a counterpoint to Mr. Eager, the other clergyman in Rome, and to the supposedly prudish Charlotte. His role is mostly commentary and humor.

In the book, however, Mr. Beebe plays a slightly more complex role, indicating Forster's understanding of human nature. Initially, Mr. Beebe seems to be on Lucy's side. He defends the Emersons' desire to give up their room to Lucy and Charlotte. And he approves of Lucy's piano playing, stating, "If Miss Honeychurch ever takes to live as she plays, it will be very exciting both for us and for her." 

There is nothing especially sinister in his statement except it evokes the slight unease which arises when one person attempts to pigeonhole or quantify another person.

In the movie, Mr. Beebe's statement is made objectively, even kindly; it is also somewhat prescient. In the book, it has an underlying meaning, which Forster expands on later. Mr. Beebe is surprisingly non-supportive of Lucy's engagements, especially her last (which leads to a happy marriage).

Basically, Mr. Beebe thinks Lucy should transcend her ordinary destiny as a woman who marries and has children. He doesn't think, "Hey, she should become a nun!" (He's an Anglican.) And he is not personally invested in what happens to Lucy. Fundamentally, however, he is not too different from Jane Eyre's St. John Rivers, who thinks that Jane Eyre's future entails becoming a missionary under the aegis of a stern husband, i.e. him.

That is, Mr. Beebe has mapped out a role for Lucy, and he is irritated when she fails to live up to it.

Forster's insight is that he recognizes that this assignment of roles goes beyond marriage. It is customary for us members of the twentieth and twentieth-first centuries to see the past solely in such terms: "Oh, yes, back then, everybody expected young women to get married and have kids! Oh, the chauvinism!"

And yes, there was a great deal of chauvinism embedded in these expectations. But the extension and expectation of roles touched on those who did not marry as well as those who did. It extended--as Forster well knew--to singles, who were expected to develop certain characteristics, be grateful in certain ways, and adopt certain relationships with others.


The expectations have changed somewhat but they still exist today. Truthfully, everyone has to contend with roles, from mothers to doctors to politicians to department stores clerks. Single women specifically have to deal with roles that are entirely dated (singles--not merely unmarried people but people who live alone--are growing in numbers).

Expectations for single women remain consistently negative. (Male singles have a separate set of expectations; I don't doubt the the role of single male carries with it its own negative stereotypes; even the role of "bonhomous, high-living bachelor" can be tiresome and difficult-to-live-up-to. The male, however, can always fall back on stoicism as an acceptable alternative.)

That is, single women are expected to be depressed, bitter, angst-filled, finger-pointing, self-blaming, and desperate. If a single woman doesn't act depressed, bitter, angst-filled, finger-pointing, or self-blaming, she must be selfish, self-centered, picky, and cold.

Those who search for these characteristics in single women have a role for themselves in mind: She whines and complains, and then I tell her to forget about guys and live her life! 

A laudable goal.
What happens when the single woman already lives her own life?

Believe it or not, the reaction to a single woman who doesn't fulfill her role of "ohmygosh, I hate myself for being single" is often . . . anger: How dare she not be unhappy about not being married?! How dare she not beat herself up more? How dare she not be running around like a madwoman, desperately clinging to any man?! I was going to TELL her not to do those things, and she went and stopped doing it anyway. How dare she?!

Forster is the only English writer who wholly understands this (okay, maybe Jane Austen as well): that people can be as upset when someone refuses to fulfill a negative role as when that person refuses to fulfill as a positive one.