Oscar Wilde's tomb..Killing the New Woman – Defining “Self” in Wilde’s “The Sphinx Without a Secret ... Wilde's increasing preoccupation with leading a double life.

The tomb of Oscar Wilde is located in Père Lachaise Cemetery, Paris, France. It took nine to ten months to complete by the sculptor Jacob Epstein, with an accompanying plinth by Charles Holden and an inscription carved by Joseph Cribb. In 1908, Oscar Wilde's literary executor Robert Ross chose Jacob Epstein for the commission of the tomb at a cost of two thousand pounds, which had been anonymously donated for this purpose. Later, in a publication of letters between Ada Leverson and Ross in 1930, Letters to the Sphinx, the anonymous donor was revealed to be Helen Carew, with financial assistance from novelist Stephen Hudson (Sydney Schiff). This was only Epstein's second commission, his first being the sculpture for the Holden-designed British Medical Association building in The Strand; these had been severely criticised for being too sexualised for public consumption. However, Epstein retained some noteworthy supporters within the Wilde circle such as William Rothenstein. The choice of Oscar Wilde's monument created controversy. Wilde's supporters would have liked for the monument to derive in some way from Wilde's works, such as "The Young King", by invoking homoerotica with figures of forlorn Greek youths, whereas Wilde's detractors believed he was deserving of no monument at all.[6] One can see the influences of Wilde's works in Epstein's original sketches for the tomb, which feature two young men, heads downcast in an image of grief and sorrow upon an empty stone stele. However, Epstein has said of his sketches of the tomb that he "was dissatisfied and scrapped quite completed work". It has been suggested that the change in design plans are due to Epstein's new focus on Wilde's poem "The Sphinx". However, a number of influences began to play on Epstein around this period, including that of fellow sculptor Eric Gill. The two artists were deeply interested in what they saw as the more primal sexuality of Indian and Egyptian art, as opposed to British art. Pennington refers to this period in Epstein's work as the Sun Temple period and claims that, having been unable to follow this path with some of his works in Britain, Epstein transferred his new passion onto the Wilde tomb. The monument began as a 20-tonne block of Hopton Wood stone in Derbyshire, England, unveiled to the London press in June 1912. Epstein devised a vast winged figure, a messenger swiftly moving with vertical wings, giving the feeling of forward flight; the conception was purely symbolical, the conception of a poet as a messenger, but many people tried to read into it a portrait of Oscar Wilde. In the original sketches, the influences have been linked to the winged Assyrian bulls in the British Museum. The small angel figure behind the ear of the Sphinx may have been a deliberate reference by Epstein to the verse in Wilde's poem The Sphinx: "sing me all your memories". Upon the headdress there are five figures, one with a crucifix, perhaps symbolising the martyrdom of Oscar Wilde; this may be a recurring theme—Epstein may have chosen the Sphinx with a crucified figure upon the headdress in reference to the sensual life choice of Wilde thinly veiled by his Catholicism. In Epstein's original sketchings there is a list of ten sins, however none are recognisable clearly on the final monument apart from the Egyptian-like helmet haircuts on the women. On the finished stone monument the small angel behind the ear has been removed and replaced by an elaborate headdress, the crucified figure and the phallic sphinx have been removed, and in their place is a personification of fame being trumpeted. This may have been Epstein landing on a less sentimental, carved and angular alternative. Whilst transporting the monument to the cemetery in France from his Cheyne Walk studios in London, Epstein ran into trouble with the police—having rejected its status as a work of art, French customs placed a punishing import duty of £120 on the monument for the value of the stone.[15] Once the bill was paid (it has been suggested that Robert Ross had borrowed the funds from Ada Leverson),[16] the monument was covered with tarpaulin due to the Parisian officials' reaction to the monument's nudity. Epstein returned to the cemetery one evening and found that the testicles on the statue had been covered by plaster, as the size of the testicles was considered unusual. The monument was under police surveillance and Epstein found he could only continue his work upon it after bribing a police officer to look away, but the work was sporadic and the tarpaulin was replaced at night. Eventually, as compromise, under Robert Ross' instruction, a bronze plaque similar to the shape of a butterfly was placed upon the testicles of the monument and it was unveiled in early August 1914 by the occultist and poet Aleister Crowley. Epstein was furious that his work had been altered without his consent and refused to attend the unveiling.[18] A few weeks later Aleister Crowley approached Epstein in a café in Paris, and around his neck was a bronze butterfly—he informed Epstein that his work was now on display as he intended. The testicles were removed in an act of vandalism in 1961. It is said that the cemetery manager used them as a paperweight. They are now missing. In 2000, Leon Johnson, a multimedia artist, installed a silver prosthesis to replace them.

The tomb with modern glass barrier
The epitaph is a verse from The Ballad of Reading Gaol:
And alien tears will fill for him
Pity's long-broken urn,
For his mourners will be outcast men,
And outcasts always mourn.

Today, the monument is viewed by thousands of visitors every year. A tradition developed whereby visitors would kiss the tomb after applying lipstick to their mouth, thereby leaving a "print" of their kiss.[21] The stone has also been covered in graffiti, almost exclusively letters of love to the author, but this is not as damaging as the lipstick kisses. Lipstick contains animal fat, which sinks into the stone and causes permanent damage.[25] Cleaning operations to remove the lipstick grease have caused the stone to become more porous. It is therefore even harder to clean in subsequent attempts, necessitating more drastic and surface-damaging procedures.[26] A fine of 9,000 euros was created to deter fans, but as many of them were tourists who could leave before being brought to court this did little to stop the practice.[27] In 2011, the creation of a glass barrier to make the monument 'kiss-proof' was begun.[28][29] They completed the barrier in 2014.[30] However, it only covers the lower half of the tomb. As Ireland's Office of Public Works considers the tomb an Irish monument overseas, it has paid for the cleaning and the barrier.[26]

The act of kissing the tomb has inspired a varied response from Oscar Wilde's supporters. Wilde's grandson Merlin Holland, who is partially responsible for the tomb's upkeep, has said on the subject that "Unthinking vulgar people have defaced the tomb forever." The producer Marc Overton, who views Wilde as a personal hero, has been quoted saying he found the lipstick kisses disgusting. On the other side of this discussion, the architectural historian Lisa Marie has called this an act of devotion and a "fitting monument to a great decadent and aesthete." Two years after the barrier was erected Stephen Fry mentioned the practice of kissing Oscar Wilde's tomb in a speech on Wilde given at the Jaipur Literature Festival; "Here's this man who believed when he died that his name would be toxic for generations to come. For hundreds of years his work wouldn't be read. He would stand for nothing but perversion. Utter disgust of a society that couldn't bear people like him.....His tomb in Père Lachaise Cemetery, in Paris. It had to be restored because the polished stone of its surface had corroded through kissing. Thousand and thousands. .... Wouldn't it be allowed once to just wake him up for five minutes just to tell him that, then he can go back to sleep again?"

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oscar_Wilde%27s_tomb

Killing the New Woman – Defining “Self” in Wilde’s “The Sphinx Without a Secret”
Discussions of Oscar Wilde and the New Woman rightfully focus on his time editing Women’s World. But Wilde’s short story “A Sphinx Without a Secret” is another work ready to be read as a New Woman text.[1] The New Woman, a symbol of the shifting aspirations of late-Victorian women, underwent scrutiny over her desires for life outside of the pre-established roles that nineteenth-century English society set for her. According to Talia Schaffer, “As a mythic icon, the New Woman evokes an extraordinary range of emotional associations, a flood of feelings which can powerfully support whatever goal the [contemporary] writer has channeled it towards” (45). From Ouida to Sarah Grand, the New Woman was both dragged through the metaphorical mud and praised from the rooftops. Late-Victorian English society fought over definitions for the New Woman, perhaps to limit her power to define herself.[2] Oscar Wilde’s short story “A Sphinx Without a Secret” embodies the New Woman’s struggle for independence and self-definition. The narrator calls Lady Alroy a woman with a “mania for mystery . . . imagining she was a herione,” but this is the definition he imposes on her. Lady Alroy is, in fact, using mystery as a means of self-definition. She creates a space where she has the power to define herself, especially important when considering that the Victorian stereotypes of wife and mother cannot apply to the childless and widowed Lady Alroy. Furthermore, Gerald’s distrust of Lady Alroy reveals late-Victorian skepticism toward the burgeoning movement for women’s independence, and by using a framed narrative, the story ultimately alludes to the effects society’s disapprobation will have not just on the movement but on women as a whole: metaphorical death.

Despite her physical and financial freedom, Lady Alroy feels a need to rent a secret parlor and act clandestinely in her movements; this shows she desires a freedom outside of what wealth can provide. Such a desire can be translated into the goals of many late-nineteenth century women. As Alys Pearsall Smith notes in 1894 her essay, “She [the late-Victorian woman] asks simply and only for freedom to make out her own life the highest that can be made, and to develop her own individuality as seems to her the wisest and the best” (qtd. in Ardis 18). Ann Ardis shows how the New Woman laid “claim to the right of self-definition” and developed a “program of self-actualization” (27). Wilde’s New Woman story shows that even financial independence is not sufficient to guarantee “her own individuality.” Lady Alroy has enough income to maintain an affluent life in high society; her title makes her part of the aristocracy; she thus has freedom over the direction her life assumes. Nonetheless, she is not independent of society’s values and judgments.

Is it in order to pursue self-definition that Lady Alroy creates another space—a second life of rented rooms and secret letters—where she can pursue her own individuality. The secret life, though lived alone, precariously empowers Lady Alroy, because it gives her the power to shape the public’s perception and her identity. Lady Alroy’s “mania” is not that of an unstable woman, but of a woman desiring the freedom to shape herself instead of having her self shaped by society. Lady Alroy shrouds herself in mystery, yes, but she creates power, she creates an unknown, unfathomable element about herself that cannot be pigeonholed by Gerald, or other Victorian men who see in every good woman the Angel in the House. This unfathomable element is what unsettles Gerald’s perception of Lady Alroy and leads him to state he never understood women. It also explains what is so limiting about the stereotyped roles women were expected to inhabit: Gerald thinks that understanding one woman is equivalent to understanding all women. Readers must decide for themselves how best to understand women when they are left to answer Gerald’s final question: “I wonder.”

As is clear from Mona Caird’s 1899 essay “Does Marriage Hinder a Woman’s Self-development,” a woman needs time to herself, a space belonging to her alone, and the freedom to pursue her interests, whether they be varied or singular, in order to grow into her best self.[3] Lady Alroy, sans husband, would seem to have already accomplished these aims, these essential needs. Yet after hearing Gerald mention seeing her in Bond Street, Lady Alroy “grew very pale . . . and said, ‘Pray do not talk so loud; you may be overheard’” (Wilde). Because Bond Street, both then and now, is a popular street for high-end shopping, there should be no reason for a sudden start. Lady Alroy’s reaction is a means of testing the power she has in her second life. She is willing to bring in another person to increase the mystery surrounding herself and thus increase her power over others’ perceptions of herself. Bringing Gerald ever so slightly into the mystery means she may extend her definition of self to others, seeing if she can exist as she desires outside of her personal knowledge of this identity. Gerald is later directed to write Lady Alroy at a secret address, further implying she may be willing to let him into a sense of who she is outside of society’s dictates. But when Gerald later discovers Lady Alroy secretly rents a room, he treats Lady Alroy like yet another Victorian stereotype: the fallen woman. Gerald distrusts her morality; his imagination cannot extend beyond what his culture has already dictated. Even though Lady Alroy is honest—she meets no one in her secret rooms, a fact later verified by her landlady—Gerald cannot trust the individual when she does not accord with his pre-conceptions of the group. Even after her landlady confirms Lady Alroy’s story, Gerald persists in his distrust of his would-be fiancée.

Gerald’s skepticism of Lady Alroy’s honesty and motives shows the patriarchal fear of losing power. Gerald has encountered a woman who does not fit within his comprehension of womanhood, a woman who has taken the power wealth gives her to create a second life independent of anyone’s dictates. She has created a space where his definitions of womanhood are not reflected. While he might believe that his incomprehension of women began with Lady Alroy—his “belle inconnue[4],” his “Giocanda in sables” (Wilde)—the story suggests that all women are a mystery to him. She is not a woman who fits the mold of the “frail, delicate, ethereal” women whom a Victorian man might expect to wed (Gibbs)—but the ordinariness of the “secret life” Lady Alroy leads suggests that every woman escapes the understanding of Victorian men. Because no woman will perfectly fit the social ideal, every woman will “mysteriously” act in ways contrary to it. Significantly, the entire story is introduced by his statement to the frame narrator that he might never marry because he “does not understand women well enough” (Wilde); to him, one woman equates to all women.

The seriousness of this misapplication of a single standard to all women is apparent in Gerald’s behavior when he refuses her claim to truth: he became “mad, frantic; . . . [and] said terrible things to her” (Wilde). She now receives the full judgment of Gerald’s patriarchal perspective and feels force of his biting scorn. Lady Alroy has been a problem for him to solve, and when the solution does not meet his expectations, he allows his fear of inferiority to result in verbal abuse of Lady Alroy. She was not a neat package for him to master, as one masters a crossword puzzle. While he initially believes his love came “in spite of the mystery,” he grudgingly admits that his feelings were aroused because of it: “I fell madly in love, and I was excited by the mystery that seemed to surround her” (Wilde). This playing out of the angel-whore dichotomy is compounded by the double-bind that the New Woman finds herself in: her “newness” makes her attractive, but this is the very quality that will cause the traditional man to fear and reject her. When he cannot overpower the riddle of Lady Alroy’s harmless second life, he rejects her. Her “beauty molded out of many mysteries” attract him, but because he does not have social stereotypes on which to base his judgments, he cannot decide if these mysteries are “for good or evil” (Wilde). Wilde shows a society curious and tempted to see women in varying roles, but ultimately distrustful of women’s desires. In New Women, New Novels, Ann Ardis notes how traditional Victorian men viewed the New Woman’s desire for freedom as a threat to their current standing of society, as a reborn Eve waiting to bring about a second fall of man. The New Woman threatens the social order – she desires a place in the workforce, she desires a higher level of education, and she seeks a means of providing for herself without the aid of a husband or father or wealthy brother. While Lady Alroy never seeks any such thing, her simple desire for a private space of self-definition—a need Caird defines for the New Woman—appears just as threatening.

Gerald’s paranoia provides insight into the ideas of sexual promiscuity that became attached to the New Woman; it became a rationale for denying women new freedoms in their personal lives, marriages, and the workforce.[5] Ann Ardis states, “The moral agency of a Victorian ‘lady’ is predicated upon the denial of her sexual appetite,” because the cultural imperative to imagine her as Eve makes her desires, sexual or otherwise, means destroying the Victorian home and the downfall of men and mankind (14). So, when a Victorian woman desires her own space, her motives are scrutinized. The mere desire for a room of her own means that Lady Alroy is somehow sexually tainted. If a man cannot understand the ways in which even a woman’s relatively free existence is constrained by social censure, he cannot see what she could need with a separate, small, and secret space outside of her own home.

Gerald’s reaction even suggests the New Woman, because of her desires, is a fallen woman. Note, while Gerald makes it clear he wishes to marry Lady Alroy, he never asks for her hand in marriage. Instead, he uses his desire to marry her as leverage for knowing how Lady Alroy spends her private time. He wants and needs to know all about her, but when he begins to know, he cannot trust this new version of Lady Alroy, precisely because she is formed outside of society’s eyes. He states his right to question her comes from “‘The right of a man who loves you . . . I came here to ask you to be my wife’” (Wilde). The Victorian moral system tells Gerald that he has the right to know Lady Alroy’s secrets—but they also “require” him to reject her when her secret desires cannot be made to fit with his preconceived notions of what a woman ought to desire. For a woman to desire a break from her position of moral guidepost, would be to lose “both gender and class status” (Ardis 26), and Gerald, as representative of Victorian patriarchal ideals, captures this sentiment with his treatment of Lady Alroy.

The frame narrative, however, allows Wilde to cast doubt on Gerald’s point of view. Within the framed narrative, Gerald—and not Lady Alroy—tells the story, which shows the dominant ideology of late-Victorian society. The voice of the New Woman had to struggle against the dominant patriarchal ideals.[6] Lady Alroy hardly speaks, and the scanty dialogue provided, coupled with no provision of her inner thoughts, registers the way that Gerald is unable to “hear” Lady Alroy’s self-definition; and Gerald is a mirror of his larger culture, for whom the New Woman remains an alluring but ultimately dangerous mystery. This narrative choice reveals Wilde’s clear understanding that women’s voices did not receive equal representation in his culture. The frame narrator is not much better than Gerald, who believes he does not know Lady Alroy and cannot know women, because the frame narrator easily dismisses Lady Alroy as merely a “woman with a mania for mystery . . . imagining she was a heroine” (Wilde). This label trivializes her motives, labeling them as either childish or unreasonable. But the ease and confidence with which he dismisses her shows another patriarchal view: women are like as children. Wilde’s story shows how even generous-minded stereotypes fail and demonstrates the true limitations of placing specific groups of people into neatly defined boxes. But the frame narrative opens up a space where Lady Alroy’s self-definition might find expression. Gerald’s final words are “I wonder” (Wilde) and these words invite the reader to evaluate the words of the two men in light of what they know of Lady Alroy and come to alternate conclusions about Lady Alroy’s and the New Woman’s character.

Ultimately, Lady Alroy’s death is the metaphorical death of the New Woman caused by a society interpreting her desires as immoral. While Lady Alroy’s death appears to be from natural causes (the official word is that she “died in five days of congestion of the lungs”), her death can be seen as the natural outcome of her rejection by Gerald. But she did not die of a broker heart; she died as a result of realizing, on evidence of Gerald’s treatment, that she cannot be accepted by society is she tries to dictate her own life. When Lady Alroy lose her sense of agency, she loses her life. Her death does not imply a weakness in the New Woman movement. Her death does not imply the New Woman is the “frail and ethereal” woman of the gothic romance novel (Gibbs). No, Lady Alroy’s death becomes the result of crushing her independence, of treated her as an outcast. Her inability to live under those circumstances is the metaphorical death of her New Woman desires.

The initial narrator chalks Lady Alroy’s actions up to “mania.” But the reader cannot help thinking maniac in the story is Gerald. His paranoia about Lady Alroy destroys his own desires for marriage to a woman he claims to “ha[ve] loved . . . so madly” (Wilde). When the frame narrator first spies Gerald, he is “anxious and puzzled, and seemed to be in doubt about something” (Wilde). So perhaps the final conclusion to be drawn about “The Sphinx Without a Secret” is that distrusting the New Woman will only weaken the foundation of society. If Gerald is the voice of the patriarchy, it is of a weakened patriarchy—one that has harmed itself through debilitating distrust. Gerald is not weakened by Lady Alroy’s secret life; he is weakened by distrusting her. He is weakened by her loss. He is weakened by obsessively trying to define her, when she was already attempting to reveal her definition. Thus, society will be weakened by not allowing the New Woman to thrive. In the twentieth century, nations needed to call on their women to perform “men’s work” during the two World Wars. Women worked in armament factories, as mechanics, and in all of the occupations men vacated to fight on the front lines. Wilde’s short story can be looked at as prophetic, a message to the nations to affirm the ways that women can live outside of the normalized spaces that societies make for them, to celebrate rather than demonize the New Woman’s broader horizens.

- Calabria Turner

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Taken on: August 19, 2023

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