The Earlswood Confession: Part One

March 14, 2010
Novel / Chapter: Historical Fiction, General
2 comments (1 reviews)

Hello dear readers! This story is the continuation of a fledgling post I made recently to YWS called "Jesse's Wine". Any of you who were interested in that might enjoy reading this story of two parts entitled "The Earlswood Confession". Earlswood was an actual insane asylum of the Victorian era located in Surrey, England. Any comments or suggestions or complaints are very much welcome.

Many thanks!

S.S. Rose

There wasn’t anything now that could take me back to the way things were. That was as lost as the bones of the earth beneath the Flood, broken and washed out to a wasteland before beginning again in the new light of the sun. I waited months to be angry at that water, the heavy press on her lungs and wet fingers digging into her heart.

Only now, after the blood is dried and cooled, does the pain finally come to her, the wicked sting that bites so deep. A heart hardened with scars is no less susceptible to ruin than it was before.

And yet two small hands can no more stop the rushing river than a single cry can end a war. That was my voice, and these are my hands, making something of their uselessness at last.

Seven years ago, she was a young woman fatefully dissimilar from her peers. We were sisters, I the elder and she the wild-hearted younger, tossed ashore from the sea of childhood to the thick unyielding forest of maturity. I could not keep her from losing herself amidst the shadows and thickets of that wood; I can do nothing but tell her story, now that I am fully grown and but a fraction wiser than when I was eighteen. I swear to you, reader, had I been granted but a glimpse of her hidden heart, of the future that lay coiled up and secret in her soul, I would never have exposed her to the world. Its joys and sorrows devastated her, I can see that now. But when we were young, we saw nothing but the small devastations of our own hearts.

From early adolescence, the parents of Ariane Cardea fretted incessantly over their daughter, for she was unlike the other schoolgirls of her age. She was prone to inexplicable and dramatic changes of mood, often resulting in floors strewn with the shards of Mrs. Cardea’s best porcelain tea-ware. She became a veritable force of nature, sweeping though the house raining tears of melancholy rage, grabbing prized objects at random and smashing them against the sage-coloured walls. She frightened her parents even more for the fact that after a period of a quarter of an hour, the spell would cease and she would become at once the calm and collected product of a sensible Victorian upbringing.

Needless to say, Mr. and Mrs. Cardea deemed it best to isolate Ariane from the prying eyes of the outside world. She was educated and raised entirely at home, occasionally allowed to roam the walled-in jungle of the garden, where she built for herself a world from her imagination. Only I, her sister, was permitted to play with her behind the thick stone boundaries of the yard, hidden from the air and noise and adventure of the world and touched only by the wan inquisitive light of the sun.

But as you know, reader, an adolescent’s soul cannot be contained in a single jar. So I snuck her out one day when the sun behind her cloudy veil of indifference kindly hid her eyes from my sin. Ah, how we relished our freedom! I was half-afraid that Ariane would be so shocked by the newness of life beyond our home that she would fall into one of her rages. But she didn’t. For once, my sister and I enjoyed the day as it was meant to be: normal, safe, and happy.

But that excursion held consequences that I could never have foreseen.

“Grina, look at that boy.” she whispered as we strolled through the city market.

“Which one?”

“That one,” she pointed excitedly to a young man with a head of thick black hair and eyes so grey they mightn’t have had any colour at all.

His name was Jesse Foster. Apparently, he had noticed her too. And why not? Her shining, untrimmed chestnut curls and piercing cerulean eyes were irresistible. But he never knew her mind; never knew it until it was much too late to appreciate its beauty.

Ariane and Jesse grew closer since their chance encounter on that stolen sunless day. Secretly, of course, they became lovers. She wore his affection around her neck: he had given her a necklace with a little gold cross set with diamonds. I did not know this, or I would never have allowed her to accept such a token.

I, in my foolishness, believed Ariane to be cured from her madness, because she had not lost control of herself in weeks. If she could be cured by anything, I believed it would be by the elixir of love. But I was dreadfully mistaken.

“Ariane, calm down!” he commanded, taking her firmly by the shoulders and staring deep into her anxious eyes. I had left Ariane alone one day beneath and old oak tree that no one ever visited because it was much too far from the village to be worth the trip. She was waiting for Jesse, but he was late. I wanted to purchase a pair of yellow agate earrings from the ladies’ boutique at the edge of town. I would return shortly. But Jesse was late. And Ariane panicked.

“Ariane!” he cried again, but she wouldn’t listen. She wailed and shrieked insanely, tearing leaves from the drooping oak branches and shredding them before throwing them to the ground. “Ariane, I’m sorry. I love you! Please calm down!”

“You liar!” she screeched. “I loved you, but you left me alone! You’ve got another girl somewhere, I know it!”

“No, Ariane, I swear! Please, my father –”

But it was no use. Eventually Ariane’s words no longer made sense, and the secret was out.

“‘Screaming incoherently’, you said?” repeated Doctor Horace Blair, respected physician and psychologist.

“Yes, sir,” affirmed a pale and frightened Jesse. “Flailing her arms and tearing at her hair. It wasn’t…normal.”

“Mmm. Indeed.” said the doctor. “It appears to me that Miss Cardea is not altogether balanced of mind. Are you familiar with the Earlswood Asylum?”

“The madhouse?” Jesse was aghast.

“That is how some would refer to it. I professionally suggest that Miss Cardea be admitted there as soon as possible. She is quite possibly a danger to society.”

Jesse could not speak.

“It is for her own good,” urged Blair. “I myself have made many visits to the institution. It is quite respected in the psychological field. In fact, Earlswood is the most sanitary and modernized asylum in all of England. Besides,” his tone grew quiet and confidential, “I know she would rather be admitted by a friend than by the local authorities.”

“She has no choice, then?”

“She is an imbecile, Mr. Foster, and therefore cannot make a reasonable choice. As I said, she is a danger to society…and to herself.” he added.

Jesse came to me, wrecked and distraught; his colorless eyes little windows of misery. He seemed so young, though he was the same age as myself, and he was so handsome and vulnerable in his sorrow that I took him into my arms. I rocked him back and forth as one might comfort a child, and when he looked up again he kissed me with the lips of a martyr, but the tongue of Judas.

Hi - no reviews at all?

quote:
There wasn’t anything now that could take me back to the way things were.
I'm told an elephant must have stepped on my ear, but here I think "before" would add balance.

quote:
That was as lost as the bones of the earth beneath the Flood,
I'm confused and dislike the metaphor. The biblical flood? Bones of earth?

quote:
I waited months to be angry at that water, the heavy press on her lungs and wet fingers digging into her heart.
First part of sentence - adorable, lovely, I love it. Second part makes no sense. "Her"? Whose?

quote:
does the pain finally come to her, the wicked sting that bites so deep.
Part after comma is a tail that drags and drags in the sand and leaves a trail - and a reader tends to focus on the imprint rather than the sentence itself, and forgets what the sentence is all about.

quote:
That was my voice, and these are my hands, making something of their uselessness at last.
I don't get it - first part, second, OK, third? "making something of tehir uselessness at last" - I don't understand.

quote:
Seven years ago, she was a young woman fatefully dissimilar from her peers.
I like the beginning.

quote:
I could not keep her from losing herself amidst the shadows and thickets of that wood; I can do nothing but tell her story,
"I could" semicolon "I can" - eh.

quote:
now that I am fully grown and but a fraction wiser than when I was eighteen.
Lovely.

quote:
I swear to you, reader, had I been granted but a glimpse of her hidden heart, of the future that lay coiled up and secret in her soul, I would never have exposed her to the world.
Okay, nicely phrased, but - huh? This could mean so many different things. The MC "exposes" her sister somehow - then, now. When? What does "exposure" mean? The telling of her story? But isn't the MC doing that now? So she doesn't know her sister's heart? But wouldn't she be guessing, to tell that story? She lets her out of that garden, whatever? And on and on.

Nicely phrased, but so problematic.

quote:
Its joys and sorrows devastated her, I can see that now. But when we were young, we saw nothing but the small devastations of our own hearts.
Repetition. If deliberate, consider substitutions - does nothing for emphasis or whatever.

quote:
She became a veritable force
Would become, love last sentence.

quote:
objects at random
Modern ring to "random"

quote:
sensible Victorian upbringing.
I don't think they called themselves Victorians then in terms of people leaving in that time. If writing a story set in teh Middle Ages in first person from taht time, you wouldn't say: medieval upbringing.

quote:
only by the wan inquisitive light of the sun.
Oh chose one.

quote:
I, in my foolishness, believed
Eh rephrase. I comma short interference comma - eek.

quote:
but he was late. I wanted to purchase a pair of yellow agate earrings from the ladies’ boutique at the edge of town. I would return shortly. But Jesse was late. And Ariane panicked.
Detatched short sentences which would maybe work in Ariane's POV, but not from sane Gris's.

quote:
nd to herself.” he added.
Dialogue punctuation. Google this, or look it up in YWS - somewhere aorund there's an article which explains all.

quote:
up again he kissed me with the lips of a martyr, but the tongue of Judas.
no comma, very nice ending.

Alright, so this piece has a philosophical intro of sorts, very well. As a painting it works more than fine (words are fantastic crayons here). Terribly different and detatched from the rest of the narrative, to me it seemed - empty, apart from the first line, maybe. That proper first paragraph - I have mixed feelings about it as well. It's as if you wanted to jam so much info into it, than in consequence everything turned meaningless - the exposure sentence I didn't understand at all.

But I like how the names are not given away at first opportunity and hwo the reader learns gradually of what is happening and that what's filling the first paragraphs isn't a description of weather.

That pacing was at first fine, wonderful, lovely, fantastic and I loved it. And so I was a bit dissapointed at the excursion scene, when at once the reader was transported to the crux of it all, that boy and teh fatal consequences.

quote:
For once, my sister and I enjoyed the day as it was meant to be: normal, safe, and happy.
This is so general! It tells me nothing!

I'd be so happy to actually see that day, Ariane's wondering wandering, her sister showing her the outside world. I'd like to see the MC's giddiness at doing this (I know she calls it: "sin", but at the time of it happening, didn't she have the very best intentions?). So. Show us Victorian England and show us how a girl who had never been outside her house sees it, mixing it up with the narrative of one who does. Explore! Don't rush it!

quote:
and old oak tree that no one ever visited because it was much too far from the village to be worth the trip.
This, apart from a mentioned market, is the only detail I was able to find about their house and surroundings. In this particular sentence, the information seems terribly forced, as if taken by force after an unhappy realization that some details would have to be given.

The market - don't state that it's there, show us this market, and so on, so on. Don't just stick to the essentials. And Jesse - we're focused on his eyes, fine, but blah, wouldn't Ariane be at least a trifle scared at seeing ne wpeople, so many new people (market, right?). We're told she doesn't go into a rage. Fine, fine, keep it that way, but if you don't modify this, expand, explain, the reader leaved with a bitter taste on her tongue, feeling that the writer chose the easy way out.

The wonder of Pride and Prejudice (yeah yeah different times, I know) is that Austen doesn't focus on period details and that the story can be translated, sort of, into modern times. But this is not the path you began to take, with that twisting intro and mention of Victorians, and the author's note. Focus on the period, do.

So perhaps add, I don't know, clothes to eyes. And remember, Victorian period - and the sister so blatantly states that they became lovers? So sos os so so rushed.

quote:
She wore his affection around her neck: he had given her a necklace with a little gold cross set with diamonds. I did not know this,
Better in terms of the above, but still not enough.

Rushed is also the part when the MC takes off her pink sunglasses - rather, both the Grina and Ariane. The MC because she calmly flows with the tide, with this shocking love (they become lovers? really? in Victorian England? ah ah and social ladder, where are they both at? this would be nice to know, alongside the color of Jesse's eyes). Anyhow, the sister, brought up in such a period would have so modern thoughts abotu liasons so as to be fine with them being lovers? We only ever get to know that Gris wouldn't have let Ariane take the necklace for him.

And Jesse. Again, we know so little about him apart from those eyes. Pardon, pardon, I scrolled up and remembered about the hair. Does he know he's "courting" (Victorian England...) a girl whose most probably queer in the attic? Who is he? Beggar? Baronet's son? Wants Ariane only because she is pretty? Or does he love her truly (fine, it might appear that he does)?

But these questions I would like to see answers to before that dialogue that comes much to fast - or suggested answers in Gris's narrative, and like I'll repeat prolly somewhere down, I'd like to see their love growwww.

So he goes later to the doctor. Huh. Because she was jelous? Would he automatically consult a doctor (and wsn''t their love a well-guarded secret?). WOuldn't he run to Gris before he ran to the doctor? I didn't see Ariane doing anything a normal girl wouldn't do if she suspected her boyfriend was cheating on her. Really. Dignity can bury itself a hole. (oh oh I was wondering at first, how Gris gets the exact dialogue - mention that Jesse tells her?). Fine fine he mentions (and this is him, if I were Gris I'd just say he was lying) ripping hair from her head. But if he didn't know she ws mad, wouldn't he just think it was a very very profound case of jelousy?

So yeah, I found that dialogue with the doctor a tad bit unrealistic. WOuldn't the parents be doing that? Woudln't Ariane's father be her legal guardian? I mean, what could Jesse do if the father didn't want Ariane in an asylum (and he's been keeping her locked up in the hosue for a reason, not the asylum). So it's the father's decision to make. And somewhere between the father's emphasis father's conversation with the doctor, Mr. Cardea would have had Jesse on the carpet before his desk. No? Hell hath no fury like the father of a seduced girl. And this is Victorian Engalnd! SO even if he didn't care at all about Ariane, he'd do something!!

Unless Jesse wants to lock her up? Or ruin her reputation, whatever, since he technically can't do that. Eeek he kisses Gris? Nice chapter ending. If onlu it were, like, chapter 4.

Also, excursions - where are Ariane's and Grid's parents is what I ask you. They'd (excursions) have to be repeated, for Ariane and Jesse to meet and I'm not entirely sure that secret outings would have been so easy to organize - or wouldn't they? Here to we lack detail (this goes to first oine, too).

Ariane - how does Ariane (and how old is she? thickets of adulthood is very vague - old enough to be his lover. I don't know and it's frustrating me!) feel about Jesse? Yea yeah she's jelous about him in the end in the end in the end. But during? How does her feeling gorw? I mean, she's a girl who has been shut up in her house and garden for her whole life, yes? This leaves so much toom to just explore.

I'd also like elaboration on "the secret was out". Right then, at that point, she's in an empty clearing, so there's a chance that no one hears her. So she comes home in a rage, a panic? Screams it out? What's the reaction of her parents? How Gris get to know this? This is a bare skeleton. It's like you wrote it down to later expand (and to not forget you want to have this in the story), and then forgot to come back and elaborate.

Rush rush rush. Rush is the main problem that I had with this wonderful under any other aspect piece - the idea is fantastic, really. If only the execution took (a lot) more time!

Anyhow. Lovely story, expand expand expand.

Terrific,
Esme

Young Writers Society

The Earlswood Confession: Part One

Comments

Sponsors

About / Info

Forums & RPG

Literary

Resources