Fiction ~ novel
Published March 1913
Approx. 138,000 words
THE CRITICS
Mr Benson has written his latest novel in a serious mood. There is
little of his usual froth and bubble, and no Lady Sunningdales
enliven the pages. Nor does the story possess the vitality and
delightful humanness of The Challoners and some of his
fellows. Eleanor and Harry Whittaker are very interesting to read
about, but the Eleanor of the first few chapters who peruses The
Second Mrs Tanqueray in secret, and rebels against her duty
loving stepmother is much nearer the reader's heart than the Eleanor
who says “I forgive you, Harry dear,” at frequent intervals.
Harry is often in need of forgiveness. When, as tutor in the house
where Eleanor is governess, he wins her love, he possesses good
looks, qualified by a weak mouth, and a gift for play writing.
Unfortunately this gift requires to be stimulated to do its work
well. Half a glass of whisky will enable it to achieve in a couple
of hours, what a whole day's solid work has left undone. “From
habit, just as people will take a little more bread at breakfast
which they do not want, in order to put on it the butter on their
plates, which they do no want either,” he gets into the way of
finishing the glass. As a matter of course the habit grows. Eleanor
discovers it some time after a successful play enabled Harry to marry
her. Then the fight begins ~ Eleanor's love versus the drink which
gives Harry such happy moods of inspiration. The battle is fierce,
for a long time the enemy, reinforced by the actress Maria Anstruther,
is victorious, and it is only a chance street accident that gives
Eleanor the final victory. In The Weaker Vessel the author
displays all his delightful insight into human nature and the little
trivialities of life, and while this quality continues to pervade his
books they will never contain an uninteresting page.
~The Manchester Courier, 07/03/1913
There are many people, we imagine, who will consider Mr E. F.
Benson's latest story, The Weaker Vessel […], the best he
has yet written, and certainly its character-studies very nearly
approach the high-water mark in modern fiction. Eleanor Ramsden,
daughter of a clergyman of peculiarly lovable character, leaves home
owing to a disagreement with her stepmother, and accepts a position
as governess in the family of an acquaintance. In this same family
Harry Whittaker, son of Lord Prinstead, a drunken peer, is acting as
tutor, and in and between his tutorial duties is engaged upon the
writing of a play, the composition of which owes a good deal to
Eleanor's criticism and suggestion. The play is produced, makes a
sensation, and Whittaker and Eleanor are soon afterwards married.
For a time they are blissfully happy, until at last the young wife
discovers that the brilliant passages of her husband's plays ~
written always after she has retired for the night ~ are induced by
alcoholic over-indulgence. She exerts herself to save him, and only
partially succeeds. While under the spell of her wonderfully subtle
influence Whittaker is enabled to ward off the demon but presently
another equally potent and less beneficent influence enters his life
in the person of the leading actress for whom his play has been
written, but whose influence is eventually conquered by the splendid
patience and tactful winsomeness of his wife. The character of
Eleanor Ramsden is indeed a magnificent creation, and one upon which
its creator may well be congratulated. The conception is striking
and is the more convincing on account of its very unconventionality,
and it is no small tribute to Mr Benson's literary skill that even
the wayward Harry Whittaker, with all his faults and with all his
failings, never for one moment exasperates or forfeits the sympathy
of the reader. The book, indeed, is in every sense so far removed
from the commonplace and so brilliantly written throughout that it
must be reckoned certainly amongst the most important novels of the
present publishing season, and is, moreover, probably one of the few
novels of modern production for which the discriminate reader is
likely to find a permanent place in his bookshelf.
~ The Liverpool Echo, 08/03/1913
Mr E. F. Benson has perhaps been more praised and more blamed than
any other living novelist. He has, of course, the defects of his
qualities, and it is impossible for any of us to be always on the
heights. But despite occasional adverse criticism, each of Mr E. F.
Benson's novels is eagerly welcomed, for in certain senses he gives
us what no other writer can do. His latest book, The Weaker
Vessel, is one of his longest novels, and he gives a powerful
picture of the heights of heroism and unselfishness to which a woman
can rise to shield and help her 'Weaker Vessel'. Harry, with his
brilliant brain and wholly unbalanced temperament, would not retain
the tolerance, far less the love, of any ordinary woman, but Mr
Benson's unerring skill makes Eleanor's attitude and
large-heartedness simply the outcome of a natural soul. No one can
describe London life and society with a wittier and happier pen than
Mr Benson, and the creation of Mrs Ramsden along would make the book
a joy. Who does not recognise in her the patient, exasperating,
unselfish, posing martyr who renders life intolerable to those round
her. The Weaker Vessel is distinctly one of Mr E. F. Benson's
typical and excellent novels.
~Aberdeen Daily Journal, 10/03/1913
Mr E. F. Benson has made wonderful strides as an author since he
wrote the story of undergraduate life at Cambridge, Babe B.A.
[sic]. That was bright enough in its way, but it scarcely
foreshadowed the brilliant work which was to follow. To-day Mr
Benson is unquestionably one of our most popular novelists, and a new
work from his pen is eagerly welcomed. It is not difficult to
discover the reason for this popularity. Mr Benson's novels depict
life [as] it really is; his characters are so thoroughly human. His
heroes and heroines are not those perfect beings whom one so
frequently finds in the realms of fiction, but ordinary, everyday
people, with faults and failings like the rest of mankind.
In The Weaker Vessel, his latest novel, Mr Benson is at his
best. The character who furnishes the title is Harry Whittaker, an
amiable but weak young man, who when we first make his acquaintance
is acting as a private tutor, but soon afterwards blossoms forth into
a successful playwright. There is, however, one great drawback. He
finds he can only do good work under the stimulus of alcohol. “He
had no craving for alcohol in itself, he merely employed it as a
means towards an intellectual end, to give him the sparkle and
freedom of brain that were necessary to the creation of incisive
dramatic writing.” Time and again he resolves to do without it,
and to use no spur except that of his own desire, but in the end it
proves too strong for him.
Acting as governess in the same house as Whittaker is Eleanor
Ramsden, a high-spirited girl, with whom he finds he has many traits
and tastes in common. While his ambition is to write a play that
shall be accepted by a great actor-manager, she is tremendously keen
on becoming an actress, and has already given proof of her talent.
Their marriage follows the production of Harry's first play, and for
a time there seems nothing to mar their happiness, but it is when her
husband is at work on his second play that Eleanor discovers his
weakness. To his wife he explains the position:
“There's nothing to be said of the habit I have got into. But
the matter is that I can't write unless I've been drinking. Drink ~
I don't mean getting drunk ~ sets something loose in my brain, that
which we used to call the elf or the Uncontrollable. And when it's
loose ~ very often just one whisky and soda lets its loose ~ I get so
keen about my work that I just must keep it loose. And that means
drinking more. So it goes on, I drinking instinctively and working,
utterly happy because I know I am doing good work, and that the best
part of my brain is active. You remember my reading you The
Dilemma in the schoolroom at the Wilkins? And how you put
your finger on certain bits of slack stuff? All that, just that, and
nothing else, was written without ~ without help. All that you
thought was good was written with help. In consequence, I did no
good work. Of course, it was a rotten plan to trifle with such
methods at all, but it was so easy to persuade myself that I would
just finish this act, or just finish this play, and that then I would
give it up.”
This is what Harry is always saying: “I will give it up when I have
done this,” but he has not the strength of will to leave it alone
for long. Through it all, however, Eleanor is his good angel. He
repeatedly falls away, but she never turns from him, even when faced
with a worse trial in the form of a dangerous intimacy between her
husband and a leading actress for whom he was been writing a play.
She is ever striving to lift him up to higher things, and in the end
she has her reward.
The Weaker Vessel, while
quite unlike the customary stage novel, gives one an interesting
glimpse of the work involved in the writing and production of a play,
and reveals something of the terrible nervousness experienced both by
dramatist and actor on a first night.
~The Cambridge Independent
Press, 14/03/1913
There is a world of irony in the title Mr E. F. Benson has chosen for
his latest novel. Eleanor [Ramsden] marries a man who has made a
brilliant success of his first play, and is proud of her husband and
his work. The awakening comes when she learns that the cannot write
save under the stimulus supplied by intoxicants. He is, indeed, the
weaker vessel, but her large-hearted love prevents the catastrophe
that seems inevitable. Worse is to come, but still she sacrifices
herself for the sake of the man she loves. Mr Benson has given us a
masterly analysis of temperament and character. He probes the full
depths and measures the heights of human nature, and in both he is
equally successful.
~The Courier [Dundee], 20/03/1913
This
is a contrast in its quietness to the liveliness of the book which
first attracted attention to Mr. Benson as a novelist. Dodo
had more sparkle, but The Weaker Vessel
has far more fidelity to life. It is a serious and truthful study of
social conditions and of individual temperament. Particularly exact
in its realism is the character of the self-sufficient and
narrow-minded rector's wife who makes miserable the life
of her cheerful, ambitious, and gifted stepdaughter. Equally good in
its depiction is the character of the man the girl marries—a genius
as a writer of plays only when he is under the inspiration of
alcohol, and therefore inevitably a weak though lovable character,
whose life trends naturally downward. While his power weakens, his
wife's strengthens; and she becomes a fine embodiment of honor and
faithfulness.
~The Outlook
(US), 05/04/1913
In Mr. Benson's new novel he draws five admirably contrasted
principal characters. The father of Eleanor, the heroine, Mr.
Ramsden, a wise and benevolent country clergyman, has that knowledge
of the world which comes from the Church not having been his first
profession. In striking contrast to him is his well-intentioned wife,
who succeeds in being the most disagreeable person who has appeared
in fiction for a long time past. The other three characters are the
gentleman who enacts the name part of the piece (the novel is so
concerned with theatrical matters that it is impossible to help
slipping into theatrical language); Eleanor, his wife, who, besides
being by far the better man of the two, is a heaven-born genius on
the boards; and the Circe of the book, who leads Harry Whitaker
astray. She, however, is a far more conventional figure. Harry
himself is a striking study, and Mr. Benson almost persuades his
readers that his hero was right in yielding to the temptation of
giving way to drink when it enabled him to write such admirable
dramas. Eleanor Whitaker is herself a well-drawn and credible figure,
though the reader would like to hear the opinion of a professional
actor-manager on the possibility of her taking the town by storm on
the stage without ever having learned the rudiments of her art. The
book cannot be called epoch-making, but it is pleasant reading,
though the unfortunate Harry is obliged to be half-paralysed before
his moral character can be rescued.
~The Spectator,
26/04/1913
In
this novel there are two weaker vessels, namely, the father and the
husband of the heroine; and for some time we were unable to make up
our minds which weaker vessel was intended to give the title
to the book. If this were a play, the leading female part would not
be that or the heroine, but that of her step-mother—the very
virtuous, correct, and managing clergyman's wife. A clever actress
might make a great deal of the character. Whether the story would
make a play we are not so sure. The vicar's wife gave much of her
goods to feed the poor; and she once cheerfully gave her body—at
least, her hands—to be burned, by putting out the flames in the
clothes of a little boy, who had set himself on fire at a Christmas
tree. "The child was not hurt at all, so prompt was her aid ;
but he was hurt afterwards when Mrs. Ramsden repeated the occurrence
to his mother, adding that she had repeatedly warned the children not
to touch the candles. But in no reasonable mind could there be any
doubt as to the overwhelming weight that duty occupied in the
spiritual economy of Mrs. Ramsden. She put out the small male infant,
with risk to herself, as cheerfully and as ungrudgingly as she
repeated his misconduct afterwards to his mother." This is the
key to her actions and sayings, whenever she comes on the stage; and
they usually "bring down the house." As to the lengthy
descriptions of the married hero's gradual falling in love with an
objectionable actress, and his equally gradual taking to drinking, we
found them dull, although cleverly described. By the way, the hero's
wife was also an actress, and a very fine one. After seeing her
perform, in her greatest character, Mrs. Ramsden said: "The
audience were very much pleased, but to me she did not seem to be
acting at all. She spoke and did things as she might have in the
vicarage at home." And when told that this was the highest
tribute she could give her, Mrs. Ramsden replied: "You mean that
Harry wrote the part for her, so that there was no acting to be done.
I am sure that was very clever of him." The woman is really
splendid all through.
~The
Tablet, 14/06/1913
E. F.
Benson, who customarily avoids problems, presents in The
Weaker Vessel an extraordinarily
strong and searching study of the man who yields to the devil and the
flesh. Whoever desires, without personal experiment, familiarity with
the mechanism of surrendering to temptation, cannot do better than to
consider the ways of the hero.
~The Atlantic Monthly
[US],
11/1913
The Weaker Vessel (1913)
contains two women characters who are essentially Bensonian: they may
be copied from life, but they do not live. One is the daughter of a
viscount and the wife of a country clergyman, and she has all the
aggressive qualities that one expects of such women. She lives in an
atmosphere of Sunday schools and choir practices, and she is
convinced of her absolute righteousness. She exhibits a monumental
lack of humour, and her bright, hard verbosity has a stunning effect
both on the reader and on Eleanor, her step-daughter. Eleanor is the
heroine who, rebelling against her narrow life in the parsonage,
marries Harry Whittaker, an alcoholic playwright who has leapt to
fame with his first play. Without any training or experience of life
Eleanor becomes a famous actress, portraying subtle and varied parts
with consummate triumph, taking London by storm. Also among the
characters is Marian Anstruther, the stage siren, who wears
rose-madder cloaks, and Louis Grey, a high-minded actor-manager who
is in love with Eleanor, but at a respectful distance. Not only is
Eleanor a great actress, she is wise, large-hearted and loving, and
when she discovers her husband's shameful secret she sets out to save
him; and she does not desert him even when the siren influences him
to descend even further into the depths of degradation.
Harry injures his spine in a motor accident and will never be able to
walk again, and Eleanor gives praise to God for delivering him into
her hands ~ no more naughtiness for Harry, and no more rivals for her.
Marian disappears into outer darkness, though not before Eleanor
forgives her for being Harry's mistress. The book ends with a hint
of spring in the air after a bitter winter. Harry is about to start
another play and Eleanor to resume her acting.
~Geoffrey Palmer and Noel Lloyd in
E. F. Benson As He Was,
1988
Typical of the notices [E. F. Benson
was getting in the pre-war years] are those which greeted The
Weaker Vessel (1913), whose
characters include an alcoholic playwright, a temperamental actress,
and the stock clergyman's wife stuffed with nauseating piety. The
Gentlewoman wrote, “They are
essentially Bensonian creations. They might quite possibly be
copied from life, but they do not live.” The reviewer went on to
lament Fred's 'surface polish, the Benson Brilliantine', because it
obscured the talent beneath. New Age,
having depicted Fred as 'a servile scribbler', wondered whether he
was not, in fact, a satirist in disguise, which was true though not
generally acknowledged. Similarly, the Western Gazette
remarked that “Mr Benson attacks no problem, but merely paints
portraits remorselessly; but the problem nevertheless peeps through
between the lines.”
~Brian Masters in The Life
of E. F. Benson, 1991
