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Historical novels written by women and with an intended audience of women are an opportunity to examine the relationship between women and power. Of particular interest are novels that use a historical setting with a much stricter set of societal rules and hierarchies than the present, only to set their female protagonists as outside those social structures. This creates a power fantasy for female readers, enabling them to both enjoy the romance and glamour of the historical period whilst enjoying a perspective that is more palatable to a more progressive audience. This essay examines The Grand Sophy by Georgette Heyer and Soulless by Gail Carriger to identify the different ways these power fantasies are created.
The Grand Sophy is a romance novel that was published in 1950 and is set in Regency era England. Soulless is a steampunk fantasy novel set in a version of Victorian England where the supernatural is publicly known and part of society that was published in 2009. While there are nearly 70 years in between the two publications, both novels feature female protagonists with a confidence and attraction to the readers that is more than what woman contemporary of the chosen historical periods in question would be likely to show. It shows in their behaviour, in their clothing and in the way they gain power, sometimes romantically or sexually, and sometimes politically or supernaturally.
Alexia Tarabotti, the heroine of Soulless, knows from the start of the novel that she is an outsider in Victorian society, despite her wealth and the social status of her family – slightly above the status of minor gentry, with her mother’s second husband being a “Right Honorable Squire” (Carriger 24). Her father, her mother’s first husband, was Italian, giving her tanned skin and a prominent nose which sets her outside of the Victorian English notion of beauty. She is also 28 years old and the definition of a spinster. In addition, “Miss Alexia had been born without a soul, which, as any decent vampire of good blooding knew, made her a lady to avoid most assiduously” (Carriger 1). Being a soulless preternatural with the ability to negate the supernatural, yet no creativity, means she does not belong in supernatural society either. Not quite belonging to either human society or supernatural society despite having connections to both eventually gains Alexia political power, however. At the end of the novel she is offered a place on Queen Victoria’s supernatural council. The Queen describes the post of muhjah as “An advisor meant to break the stalemate between the other two[1]” (Carriger 337).
The character being set outside of Victorian society from the start gives Carriger the freedom to criticise elements of the period that her readers might find odd or unrelatable from a twenty first century viewpoint. Alexia’s view of the silliness of her more historically conventional sisters, for example. Described as quite beautiful but no more substantive than that, Alexia quite clearly considers her more intellectual nature as superior and is exasperated by her relations (Carriger 27). The clear intent is that intelligence is valued more by the reader and author than is allowed by the historical period. Alexia, by being intelligent is placed as different, but superior and therefore more likely to use her agency in an independent manner.
It is interesting that Carriger uses both fictional, genre elements and historical elements to set Alexia apart from society. Her Italian heritage and unwed state in her late 20s are as important, if not is more important than her preternatural status when it comes to her interactions with Victorian society. It impacts on her interactions with a much wider group of people, especially as it is a concern for even the supernatural characters that she knows – the werewolf beta Professor Lyall at points out to Lord Maccon that her heritage and age are factors in why she is unwed (Carriger 22). It can be argued that this reliance on youth and a specific style of English beauty connects the novel strongly to the time period in which it is set. A reader in the twenty-first century is likely to have a wider view of beauty and the likelihood of romance occurring at a wide range of ages. By setting it in the Victorian era, Carriger is allowing Alexia’s emergence as a romantic heroine to demonstrate her ability to take power over her own self no matter her circumstances and how society views her.
Another way that Carriger in particular sets Alexia apart from society and gives her agency is by showing the awakening of Alexia’s sexuality as a mature woman, from realising her attraction to the romantic interest to the point where he starts taking control in their encounters. This is juxtaposed against the strict social mores of the historical period, where even if a person was free about sex in private, it was simply not discussed in public. Alexia’s friend Ivy reacts with slightly titillated by scandalised shock to Alexia’s description of an encounter with Lord Maccon (Carriger 118). Alexia’s mother, Mrs Loontwill “did what any well-prepared mother would do upon finding her unmarried daughter in the arms of a gentleman werewolf: she had very decorous, and extremely loud, hysterics” (Carriger 208) and Queen Victoria states outright that she could not consider Alexia for the political role of muhjah until she was engaged to be married and was therefore respectable (Carriger 337-339). Owning her own sexuality is what gains her Lord Maccon in the end, as it appeals to his wilder werewolf sensibilities and sets her apart from the other young women he interacts with. As he tells her family “What would I possibly want with a silly chit just out of the schoolroom?” (Carriger 213).
Regency society was similar to Victorian society over all in terms of a woman owning her sexuality and “it was assumed that ‘decent’ middle-class women were not even troubled by the need for sexual pleasure” (Creeber 566). If the upper class were allowed more freedom, it was only with great discretion. Heyer differs a somewhat from Carriger here and is perhaps more tied to her historical period. She gives her heroine choice and agency in terms of romance and marriage, but sexual pleasure is not a specific part of the story.
Miss Sophia Stanton-Lacy, the eponymous heroine of The Grand Sophy, does not gain the outright political and supernatural power that Alexia gains, but she spends most of the book having a similar amount of agency over her own actions, which for a woman in Regency England, means having both confidence and independence, both forms of power. Much of the power she has comes from either her father or her circumstances and that power and agency is both what sets her apart from the rest of society in the novel and what gives her power over her own life and happiness. She also exercises quite a bit of subtle power over her friends and family, manipulating matters so that those she loves can be happy as well. These types of power are more tightly tied to history than those in Soulless due to a number of factors including Heyer’s dedication to making her setting historically accurate, the lack of fantastical conceits and additions, and, perhaps, the fact that The Grand Sophy was written in a much earlier time period that Soulless.
One example of the power Sophia holds that sets her apart from the Regency society that she moves in is financial. The morning after her arrival, Sophia shocks her aunt by requesting the location of her father’s bank so that she can take charge of her own finances (Heyer 60). When asked whether she has her own account, Sophia respond “No, alas! It is such a bore! However, we settled it that I should draw upon Sir Horace’s funds for my needs” (Heyer 60). Her aunt’s response that she has never entered her own husbands bank indicates that upper women having any control over their finances at all was quite unusual. An unmarried woman in Regency England would not have money (Regis 127). Yet it is not unfettered financial power because it is not Sophia’s own money, but her father’s. This is perhaps reflective of the book’s publication in 1950. Women were beginning to work and earn their own money more and more, but society was still at the beginning of the transition to opportunities for financial independence for women. Therefore, Sophia has more financial power than is historically accurate for the Regency, but the novel is still closely tied to two historical periods where women did not have full financial control.
The Grand Sophy focuses on the intricacies of power relationships between individuals. Heyer is concerned with people and the way they interact with each other. People can “acquire, maintain, negotiate, or lose mental and physical over each other” (Levecq 533). A good example is Heyer’s hero, Mr Rivenhall. Fairly early in the novel it is established that he has far more financial power over his family than might be expected given his father is still alive, which makes for a slightly irregular power dynamic. However, as the novel progresses, Sophia’s actions and behaviour completely unsettles him, causing frustration and eventually the dissolution of his engagement and his becoming a romantic interest for Sophia. This happens slowly throughout the novel – demonstrated in both his own introspection and in the changeability of his behaviour towards others, particular in his conversations with Miss Wraxton. Sophia’s power is one of influencing other’s behaviour by making them react to her own behaviour. She behaves slightly outside of the regency norm and therefore uses shock and surprise manipulate the people around her into the decisions she wants them to make.
Both authors use small, detailed, very female oriented techniques to show the agency and power their protagonists. One of these is the use of fashion. By describing gowns and accessories in detail and comparing them to what other characters wear, Heyer and Carriger both set characters apart from the norm and show their ability to make independent choices. Aleksandra Tryniecka has explored the idea of fashion as a cultural sign in neo-Victorian fiction, using the use of fashion in the characterisation of Alexia in particular. She argues that “clothes can serve women” (Tryniecka 713) and that in Alexia’s case fashion is used as a weapon. Both in a practical sense – the book series that starts with Soulless is named The Parasol Protectorate because Alexia uses her parasol as a physical weapon from the first chapter – and in a subtler feminine sense, with Alexia dressing in particular ways for occasions where she wants to make a specific impression. Tryniecka describes one dinner party where Alexia dresses to attract Lord Maccon, but her sartorial choices are also important when she visits the local vampire queen in a politely hostile encounter. She worries that her self-described “best green and grey check visiting dress” (Carriger 82) might be too simple before trying to boost her confidence by telling herself “A plain tan spinster like her could never compete with such grandeur; best take advantage of what assets she did have” (Carriger 83-84). Alexia’s clothes are an expression of her femininity, a boost to her social confidence and a practical consideration, both supporting the characterisation and allowing Alexia to have agency and control over her interactions with others and her own safety.
Fashion is also one of the easiest and most recognisable signifiers both authors use to connect the story and characters with the historical periods they have chosen to use. Even in 1950, Jane Austen movie adaptations were in existence, meaning the Regency silhouette was recognisable, and corset s and bustles are easily recognisable as Victorian for twenty first century audiences. It establishes those upper-class periods which have become popular and romanticised in fiction. During Sophia’s first appearance in the book, her aunt is shocked at how grown up she is and identifies that by referring to her “most dashing hat” and a “pelisse was buttoned up to her throat, a very long sable stole was slipping from her shoulders, and she carried an enormous sable muff” (Heyer 37). The pelisse in particularly makes it very identifiable as a Regency setting. By describing her clothing as ‘dashing’, Heyer is setting her slightly apart from the society that she is entering. The connotations of the word indicate that Sophia is a little more sophisticated and outrageous that society usually sees and sets her up as someone who may do surprising things. There is power in the way she presents herself, as it upsets people’s expectations.
In the end, upsetting expectations might be the key element of the relationship between women, history, and power in romantic fiction. Alexia and Sophia both occupy a space outside historical societal expectations and by occupying that space they have power over themselves, power over the people around them and the power to connect with twenty-first century readers.
Works Cited
Carriger, Gail. Soulless. Orbit Books, 2009.
Creeber, Glen. “Romance Re-Scripted: Lost in Austen’s comparative historical analysis of pst-feminist culture.” Feminist Media Studies, vol. 15, no. 4, 2015, pp. 562-575.
Heyer, Georgette. The Grand Sophy. Sourcebooks Inc, 2018. Originally published in 1950.
Levecq, Christine. “Power and Repetition: Philosophies of (Literary) History in Octavia E. Butler’s ‘Kindred’.” Contemporary Literature, vol. 41, no. 3, 2000, pp. 525-553.
Regis, Pamela. A Natural History of the Romance Novel. University of Pennsylvania Press, 2007.
Tryniecka, Aleksandra. “Fashion as a cultural sign of change – a study of Wilkie Collins’ The Woman in White and Gail Carriger’s Soulless and Changeless.” International Journal of Arts & Sciences, vol. 6, no. 2, 2013, pp. 709-714.
[1] The other two being the potentate (vampire advisor) and dewan (werewolf advisor), two species which traditionally do not get along in Carriger’s worldbuilding.
