Harriet by Elizabeth Jenkins

I always look forward to the new Persephone books; the glee of opening the pristine dove grey cover to reveal the beautiful endpapers and a story that I know I will find fascinating, entertaining and thought provoking is second to none. These are books written with a solid craftmanship rarely found in the modern novel. Unlike today’s bestsellers, they are not attempts to be controversial, flashy or clever. They are not the product of authors who have been on expensive creative writing courses and write with one eye on a prize depressingly sponsored by a corporate giant who has nothing to do with the world of literature.  They have no agenda; they are purely and simply good stories, written with passion.  I have never been disappointed by one yet.

The latest Persephone is Harriet (1934) by Elizabeth Jenkins, whom many of you will know as the author of the superb The Tortoise and the Hare. It is a fictionalised account of the life of Harriet Staunton, a woman with learning difficulties who died from neglect at the hands of her husband and siblings-in-law in the 1870s.  Harriet, who becomes Harriet Woodhouse in the novel (many people have argued that this is a nod to Harriet Woodhouse in Emma, which I am intrigued by and there is a very good analysis here), was brought up in the comfortable surroundings of wealthy middle class suburbia by a kind and indulgent mother who sought to protect and help her beloved only daughter as much as she possibly could.  Harriet loved luxury; she especially loved fine clothes, fine food and fine surroundings. Her limited intelligence meant that she could be difficult, but by and large she was a sweet and good girl who was totally dependent on her mother into adulthood. In return, her mother was determined to ensure that she lived as fulfilling a life as possible, and never denied her anything that brought her pleasure.

From time to time Harriet’s mother, Mrs Ogilvy, sent Harriet off to various relatives to stay for a short while. Mrs Ogilvy only trusted Harriet with family; she was due to gain a substantial inheritance on the death of her late father’s sister, and Mrs Ogilvy did not want Harriet taken advantage of.  As such, she thought nothing of sending her off to Penge, in South East London, to stay with a cousin for a few weeks when Harriet was in her early 30s. Mrs Hoppner was living in genteel poverty with her beautiful, selfish and sulky teenaged daughter Alice, and the money she received for Harriet’s bed and board came in very handy, especially as she needed some extra cash to help out her older daughter Elizabeth and her husband Patrick, who lived a hand to mouth existence nearby with Patrick’s brother Lewis Oman (Staunton).

Patrick and Lewis were devoted to one another; Patrick especially was in awe of his older brother and would have done anything for him. Both the Hoppner sisters had been captivated by the enigmatic but penniless brothers, who thought the world owed them a favour and despised their poverty. Elizabeth lived for her husband, and thought he could do no wrong; Alice adored Lewis and couldn’t wait for the day when they would marry. The brothers and Alice especially had a desire for fine things and a sense of entitlement that outstripped their meagre backgrounds; Elizabeth resented the fact that Patrick could not have everything he wanted. Poor Harriet unwittingly stumbled into this family group of desperate, selfish individuals, whose love for and dependence upon one another excluded consideration for any other human being. As soon as Lewis found out about Harriet’s money, he hatched a plan to marry her; artfully, he insinuated himself into her affections, lavishing her with attention and praise. Harriet was soon under his spell, and Mrs Ogilvy was powerless to intervene. Within weeks of meeting Lewis, Harriet was his wife.

With Harriet’s money in his pocket, he packed her off to live in the country with Elizabeth and Patrick, setting Alice up in a house nearby. At first Harriet is treated with some decency, but as her mind degenerates from lack of care, and her imperious, demanding and fractious behaviour becomes a real burden, the four conspirators turn on her. She is an inconvenience and has ‘no right’ to what they think she cannot appreciate; her behaviour and inability to communicate properly lead them to believe that she has no feelings and no ability to love as they do. Alice especially resents her beautiful clothes; why should ugly, simple Harriet get to swan around in sumptuous dresses while she is forced to wear rags? Elizabeth initially feels guilty, but seeing Patrick inconvenienced by Harriet ignites her anger, and her desire to make Patrick happy overrides her morals. After a while, it all seems so sensible, so natural, so right, to deprive Harriet…it is never an active decision, but by mutual unspoken agreement, they all abdicate their moral obligations and turn a blind eye to the suffering that is under their noses in order to further their own interests. Consequences are never considered…until it is far too late.

This is an incredibly disturbing and gripping tale of how selfishness and prejudice can overpower reason and morality and turn perfectly ordinary people into monsters. Jenkins does not blame and she does not vilify; she presents an impressively even-handed picture of the minds of people who have thoughts and reactions that really do seem quite reasonable under the circumstances. It is frightening to read because there are glimmers of things we all think underneath the surface of the Omans’ reasoning; we are all very good at turning a blind eye to the distasteful, after all. We avert our eyes when asked for money by the homeless, we turn over the television when the images of starving children get too distressing; we don’t want to have such unpleasantness encroach on our nice, safe little lives. We don’t actively plan to be cruel; we just choose to look away. Just as everyone does in Harriet.

So, was it murder? Well, I can’t answer that, and neither does Jenkins. Instead, in her sympathetic and fair portrayal of both Harriet’s difficult nature and the grinding poverty and possessive love of the Omans, she leaves us with the highly unsettling impression that perhaps we wouldn’t have behaved all that differently. Despite the subject matter, this really is unputdownable, and incredibly thought provoking. It’s become one of my absolute favourite Persephones. You can read the afterword here, in The Observer. If I haven’t convinced you, that will!



  1. heavenali says:

    : ) You have convinced me – oh I do love Persephone!

    1. bookssnob says:

      Glad to hear it! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Persephone can do no wrong! 🙂

  2. janey77 says:

    OMG that is awful story! Sounds like a good book but not for me! Would upset me way too much. How can people be so cruel?!!

    1. bookssnob says:

      It is…but sadly we do these things to each other all the time! I wouldn’t let the subject matter put you off too much….it’s a fascinating and brilliantly written book and so gripping…you can forget it’s a true story if it helps because it would be a shame for you not to read such a fantastic novel!

  3. I just got the new Persephone catalog in the mail, but haven’t had a chance to look through it yet. I’ll definitely be adding this to my To Read list. It sounds fascinating, and that’s very high praise to call it a favorite among all the great Persephone books!

    1. bookssnob says:

      Enjoy looking through the catalogue – I remember getting my first one and sitting there for about an hour in an agony of indecision – which to choose when they all sounded so marvellous!

      Please do get around to Harriet as soon as you can – it’s so brilliant. I couldn’t bear to put it down and the characters still haunt me – marvellous stuff!

  4. Lucy says:

    I think it’s the most disturbing thing ever when ordinary, average people go down a slippery slope and gradually end up doing despicable things…especially when it’s a kind of group mentality. Shivers! I don’t think I could handle reading this one, but I can see how it would be really compelling and, of course, thought provoking. Eek!

    1. bookssnob says:

      Yes it is, and I think it’s fascinating to read this because Jenkins makes it seem so entirely reasonable and even justifiable…it’s a wonderful novel. You should give it a go!

  5. Col says:

    Reading blogs like yours and others is definitely filling in gaps in my “book” education – I’d never heard of Persephone books till I read this (I feel slightly shameful admitting that!) but this one sounds like quite a story – so without reading The Observer I’m convinced!

    1. bookssnob says:

      I am so pleased to have introduced you to Persephone Books, Col! They are the best literary discovery I have ever made – hop on over to the website and order yourself three to get started and I can promise you’ll never look back!

  6. Darlene says:

    I am so ticked that I didn’t know Jenkins lived across the road from Keats’ house! I walked right in front of it last September and had no idea, oh well, there will always be a next time. TBD seems to have a long lag time on Persephone titles so it will be a few months before this arrives at my house but it definitely sounds worth the wait, Rachel. If it has become one of your absolute favourite Persephone titles then I’m even more excited about reading it! And I know what you mean about turning a blind eye. Last week we came upon a group of people watching a little dog run around a neighbourhood while dodging cars. They didn’t want the dog hurt but nobody would do anything so I put on my Wonder Woman breastplate and sprang into action! I caught the dog, we brought her home and to make a long story short, reunited her with an anxious teenager left alone at home with an open gate. Too bad poor Harriet didn’t have such a happy ending.

    1. bookssnob says:

      I didn’t know that either Darlene! Is there a blue plaque? I’ll have to go and have a look. Oh Darlene, such a shame it takes so long for you to be able to get hold of the new Persephones. I know you’ll love Harriet.

      Look at you, superwoman! It does disturb me how many people see unusual or upsetting things and just walk on by – ‘not my business’ – I saw a dog trapped in its lead outside Tescos the other day and no one was stopping to help him – he wasn’t exactly an Alsatian with huge teeth! I waded in to untangle him – it took two seconds. The poor thing could have been there for hours otherwise!!

      1. Darlene says:

        I don’t know if there is a plaque on Jenkins’ house, Rachel. If you look on Amazon though there is a house pictured on the front of her memoir The View from Downshire Hill (which no doubt you will stumble across in the bargain basement one day!), it’s probably the one. I also read somewhere that the house was pinkish in colour but that may have changed. Keep your eyes peeled the next time you’re in Hampstead!

      2. bookssnob says:

        Right, I am off to investigate, Darlene! 🙂

  7. You have, once again, intrigued me with your review, Rachel. The people we neglect are our greatest shame, aren’t they?

    1. bookssnob says:

      I’m glad to hear it Penny! Indeed they are – how a society treats the vulnerable is a sign of its true value in my mind!

  8. Daniel says:

    Gorgeous review, per usual! The Persephone books I own are such prized possessions of mine, and this one will most likely be my next!

    1. bookssnob says:

      Thanks Daniel!! Glad to hear Harriet’s next on your list – you’ll love it!

  9. What a brilliant review. I keep meaning to pop by Persephone and pick up the latest books – you’ve certainly spurned me on to get Harriet asap!

    1. bookssnob says:

      Thanks Miranda! You should definitely pick up Harriet – it’s absolutely unputdownable! And the shop looks lovely at the moment as well!

  10. Your first paragraph describes exactly the kind of books I am wanting in my life right now so there are more Persephones on the agenda for me, I think. The story of Harriet sounds horrible, but one that I would like to read, nevertheless.

    1. bookssnob says:

      Glad to hear it Anbolyn! You should definitely order a nice stack for the summer! 🙂 Yes – it’s not a pleasant story, but it’s certainly a brilliant read and one that shouldn’t be missed!

  11. Nicola says:

    I think I’m going to have to treat myself. I’m a fan of Jenkins. (Love what you said about expensive writing courses and corporate prizes!!)

    By the way, the Marilynne Robinson should reach you soon!

    1. bookssnob says:

      Good, Nicola! And thank you – I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels that way!

      Thank you so much – it’s already here and I’m so looking forward to reading it – I really appreciate you sending it to me! 🙂

  12. Deb says:

    Sorry to be so late with this comment–we must blame jury duty (I did my civic duty and served on a jury last week; did not find much time to check my favorite blogs, but now I’m back in the real world). Anyway, I see another faint Austen connection here and that is in the way Harriett’s husband and in-laws gradually come to justify their appalling treatment of Harriett. It reminds me (in a far crueller way of course) of the way the elder Dashwood brother and his wife gradually come to rationalize their dismal treatment of and withholding of funds to his step-mother and half-sisters in SENSE AND SENSIBILITY.

    1. bookssnob says:

      Good for you, Deb – hope the jury duty wasn’t too onerous!

      That is such an interesting parallel and one I hadn’t thought of! You are so right! Jenkins was something of an Austen scholar so I have no doubt that she was influenced by some of Austen’s characters and themes. The selfishness and blindness of many of the characters in Harriet definitely has a lot of resemblances to characters throughout Austen’s work. Mrs Hoppner was rather like Mrs Bennett, now I come to think of it…

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