I recently returned to reading Somerset Maugham’s The Painted Veil, which I had started last summer and then put aside (I sometimes hit moments when I’m writing when I just can’t read anything). I was drawn back immediately by the richness of the writing and the sharp emotional details. I was also struck by comparing and contrasting the book with the recent film, which I also liked. The major events are the same, but the emotional arc is quite different (though Kitty Fane does grow and change in both). It’s rather as though someone were to film Secrets of a Lady with the same basic plot but have the story end with Charles and Mel realizing they’d never really known or loved each other but staying together for practicality.
The other the thing The Painted Veil got me to thinking about is one of my favorite literary tropes–marriage in trouble plots. They’ve always fascinated me, long before I started writing about Charles and Mélanie. That’s why, when I cite influences and inspirations for the Charles & Mélanie series, in addition to the more obvious ones like The Scarlet Pimpernel, Scaramouche, Dorothy Dunnett, and Dorothy Sayers, I mention Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Tom Stoppard’s The Real Thing, and Len Deighton’s Bernard Samson books.
Reading The Painted Veil, I was pondering the fascination of this plotline. The intimacy of marriage ups the stakes in the conflict between two people. Percy’s devastation at Marguerite’s seeming lack of trustworthiness is all the great because she has just become his wife. Betrayal, I think, is one of the worst things that can happen to a person. How much worse is it when that betrayal comes from a spouse? Years of living together also gives characters a knowledge of each other that recent lovers wouldn’t have. In The Real Thing, the hero has a wonderful speech about knowing one’s spouse, in a way that goes far beyond carnal. That knowledge can be used for good or will. George and Martha know just how to push each other’s buttons. So, for that matter, do Maggie and Brick.
Particularly in an historical setting, marriage makes it difficult for two people to walk away from each other, no matter how poisoned their relationship has grown. There’s a fascinating tension in two people pretending to be a couple to the outside world, while being estranged when they’re alone. Think of Percy and Marguerite keeping up appearances to the beau monde yet unable to communicate in private, Maggie and Brick maintaining the charade of their marriage (or at least Maggie trying to) in front of his family. Kitty and Walter Fane sharing a bungalow in a cholera-infested town, seen by most as a devoted couple who’ve risked infection so as not to be separated.
Unlike most of the other couples mentioned in this post, Kitty and Walter actually know each other very little (hence much of the tragedy). But even they share a history. With any married couple, there’s a past to explore–how they came to be married and why, what they both expected, how that expectation compares to the current reality. And history is something I love to explore as a writer, whether it’s historical events or the personal history shared by two people.
Do you like marriage in trouble stories? Why or why not? Any favorite examples to suggest? What do you think makes them work?
The Fraser Correspondence takes a new turn this week. To go along with some research I’m doing for a possible project, I’ve gone back to 1814, when Charles and Mel have just arrived at the glittering Congress of Vienna. This week’s letter is from Charles to David.
Tracy Grant - Novelist 
May 25, 2009 at 4:19 am
I think “marriage in trouble” books are much more complex – there are so many secrets, hidden hurts, and long history to unwrap and sort through. I like this kind of work, frequently the characters are a bit older (one can only read about 17 yr old virgins for so long without yearning for a real woman with a real life that has been lived.) And the virgin books are about romance and pretty dresses and parties and oh will he kiss me? and marriage in trouble often has pain, despair, anger, pride, lots of misunderstandings – a rich broth for both writer and reader. That is why I’m begging to read the next book about Charles and Melanie – those two *really* have some baggage!! How do they continue on in the face of despair about what they now know about each other?
One of my favs was Gone with the Wind – talk about bad communication! Scarlett and Rhett were so close to having it all but missed subtle clues and pride got in the way…the rest is history!
May 25, 2009 at 5:25 am
That’s exactly why I want to write more books about Charles and Mel, Taryn. There’s so much for them to sort through (difficult for them, but a lot of fun to write about :-)). In Secrets/Daughter, they really just get as far as making the decision to try (which is a huge way to come, given the revelations of the book and given that it takes place over just a few days). But there are still a lot of issues to sort through, particularly as they come face to face with bits of their past (which they do, literally, in Mask of Night).
Gone with the Wind is a great example to bring up. I hadn’t thought of it as a “marriage in trouble” story, because Scarlett and Rhett aren’t married at the beginning of the book, but of course much of the story is about their marriage. I remember seeing the movie as a child and being so frustrated by their missed clues–which were very much in character for both of them.
May 25, 2009 at 8:38 pm
Well, like all themes, it depends on how well it’s done. I admit, I like marriage in trouble plots more in historical settings. The stakes are higher because divorce was harder or impossible.
(But since I dislike adultery plots, it’s hard to find a good marriage in trouble book at times, since the hero often takes a mistress – while the heroine goes off into the country to raise orphans and puppies, or raises orphaned puppies.)
Then of course, much depends on how the marriage began (love or convenience?) and how the marriage got into trouble in the first place.
OT, I hate Rhett Butler. Every time Scarlett did try to talk to him honestly, he mocked her. “You didn’t really think I meant it when I said I LOVED you, silly girl!”
May 26, 2009 at 12:37 am
JMM, I do think with any kind of plot a lot has to do with the execution (and when a story is done well, I can enjoy plots that aren’t normally favorites). With marriage in trouble plots since there’s so much complexity and history to explore, as Taryn pointed out (even a couple who married for reasons of convenience have some sort of history), I think it tends to be particularly important to explore the issue in depth and have the characters work through their problems enough that the reader can believe in a happy ending, which can be both fun and challenging for the writer. (When I was first working on Daughter/Secrets, I had people tell me that they didn’t think any sort of happy ending was possible based on that premise).
I don’t necessarily dislike adultery plots per say. It’s an uncomfortable subject but uncomfortable subjects can make for good drama. Because, as you say, it’s often the hero who takes a mistress, I tend to prefer it when it’s the heroine who’s been unfaithful. Or when they both have. Which, in the case of a long separation or a marriage of convenience, can be understandable. As you say, the expectations going into the marriage, and whether or not the marriage began as love or convenience affects the level of betrayal.
May 26, 2009 at 3:25 am
I tend to think of “marriage in trouble” plots as falling into two categories:
1) The marriage begins in unpropitious circumstances–a forced alliance, a shotgun wedding–and the couple has to try to make it work.
2) The marriage starts out solid, even loving, and then has to weather a serious crisis.
I’ve liked both kinds of stories, if done well; execution really is everything. I think, with 1) the writer needs to show that the couple can really have something special if they overcome the circumstances that brought them to the altar. And with 2) the writer has to show that, however bad things get, the marriage is worth saving.
One of my favorite examples of the first kind is Red Adam’s Lady, a terrific but out-of-print medieval by Grace Ingram. The hero abducts the heroine during a drunken spree, experiences instant remorse the morning after, and promises to marry her. She’s furious but has no other options so she accepts. For much of the beginning, she’s still angry with him but after the marriage, they begin to find common ground and when he’s betrayed by his enemies, she saves his life and helps him regain his legacy.
Daughter/Secrets is a fine example of the second kind. I think showing how happy Charles and Mel are before the crisis hits gives a good indication of why they’re willing to keep trying, in spite of (and maybe even because of) everything that’s happened and everything they’ve learned about each other. I was also able to root for Ross and Demelza Poldark’s marriage, even after he betrayed her–although I also wanted to string Ross up by his toes and beat him like a carpet, and later in the series, I couldn’t help feeling a twinge of satisfaction when the shoe ended up on the other foot, even though I don’t think two wrongs make a right. And I’m really not a fan of adultery in romances–for some readers, it’s a total deal-breaker–and too often that turns out to be the main issue that divides the couple.
Overall, I think writers who embark on “Marriage in Trouble” plots need to convince readers that the couple in question are better together than apart. If they can do that for me, I’ll follow their story up to the bitter(sweet) end.
Funny you should mention The Painted Veil. I just finished Sherry Thomas’s newest romance, Not Quite a Husband, which she’s said was inspired by the latest film of TPV. I can see the resemblance, though she switches the gender roles. Another Marriage-in-Trouble plot and it’s a good read, though one-half of the couple definitely screws up worse than the other.
May 26, 2009 at 3:48 am
That’s a great distinction between the “forced alliance” and the “stable relationship weathering a crisis,” Stephanie. Ross and Demelza’s relationship sort of begins as the first and then morphs into the second (I love Poldark, both the books and the television adaptation). I was furious with Ross’s betrayal, which I experienced first in the tv series. I was watching with my parents, and I remember my dad commenting on what an idiot Ross was :-). But like you, I went on rooting for them as a couple afterwards.
The Painted Veil is in a sense the first type of book you describe–the marriage definitely begins in less than propitious circumstances, though Walter is in love with Kitty. In the recent film they battle through to a meaningful relationship, however briefly it lasts. In the book, not so much (but then the arc of the book is more Kitty’s growth and self-discovery; the stories are quite different, as I said in my post, despite having many of the same scenes, and even the same dialogue; the differences are quite fascinating).
I actually just read Not Quite a Husband too and very much enjoyed it (I definitely believed Bryony and Leo had something worth salvaging). I’d also read her comments about TPV and I could see the resemblance (to the film), though I’m not sure I would have without reading the comments.
I think you’re so right that whatever the circumstances of the marriage, it’s important to show the value of the what the couple share (or could share). That’s why I knew I needed that opening scene between Charles & Mel in Daughter/Secrets to set up what their marriage is like before any of the revelations. It’s one of the hardest (and most rewritten) scenes I’ve ever written. Partly because I was just getting to know them both myself as I wrote it, partly because the story hasn’t really taken off at that point so there’s no tension/conflict. Or what there is is so under the surface it’s hard to see until later revelations :-).
May 26, 2009 at 4:02 am
Melanie’s conflict had to be there as she was the one who married knowing she was going to spy on her husband. Naughty, naughty! I’ve actually had trouble forgiving her for it, especially since most of the books around this time feature the English side of things and rarely do we get a sympathetic view of the French or other countries involved in the conflict. I was actually kind of shocked that Charles was willing to get past it – I mean the woman was working against his country – treason – he was doing his job! After a while I came to admire Charles for being willing to think about forgiveness but that is why I’m hungry for more of their story – because they are so in love, if only they could forget their politics and past behavior, and oh yeah (who was sleeping with someone else??) Yikes they will definitely need a series to get through all the thorny issues that will surface. And Tracy will have her hands full trying to redeem Melanie for us as well as for Charles! However, they are both so deliciously textured, I have hope that they will work it out…
PS Rhett loved Scarlett – she was just terrible at communication (too much pride!). It wasn’t all his fault!
May 26, 2009 at 5:18 am
Oh, Mel’s conflict is definitely there in that early scene–that’s why I had to write the scene from Charles’s pov. But on the surface it has to *look* like a happy couple who are very much in love (both of which are true, though Mel’s happiness is tempered by the secrets she’s been living with their whole married life).
I’m always fascinated by how different readers react differently to Charles and Mel. Some, like you, find it hard to imagine Charles being able to think about forgiving her, as you say. On the other hand, one of my friends read the book and said “why is he being so stubborn, she was just doing her job?” :-). I tend to see the story from both their viewpoints. But I do agree, they have enough issues to work through the fill numerous books. There’s also the fact that now their divided loyalties are in the open, they’re going to have to see if they can work together knowing they won’t always agree on what’s the desired outcome.
I’m inclined to think both Rhett and Scarlett loved each other, they just both had some really difficult communication issues :-).
May 26, 2009 at 2:14 pm
Well, strictly speaking, Melanie wasn’t committing treason. She was being loyal to her cause. She did lie to Charles, but she was doing HER job.
I think one reason Charles could get past it is because he never really believed in his cause the way Mel believed in hers. He was doing what was expected of him as a British gentleman.
As for Rat Butler… I’ll hold my tongue.
May 26, 2009 at 2:46 pm
Not sure about the legalities of treason by a French (I think?) woman married to a British man, but she married him because she could get secrets from him to win the fight that *he* was trying to win. Sneaky! Cause for conflict in a marriage? – yes definitely, and certainly original! Throw in uncertain parentage of their child, and well, Mel does seem to have a lot to answer for. But why I love these two is that Mel does what she has to do for desperate reasons and she’s deceitful for a higher cause (although it comes back to bite her!) and I think Charles can/will get past it, not because he didn’t believe in the cause as much as she does, but that he loves her and their life together. Maybe I need to go back and re-read!!
But as far as troubled marriages, these two definitely will need some counseling! 🙂
May 26, 2009 at 3:40 pm
Definitely sneaky, definitely deceitful, Taryn, but as JMM says Mel wasn’t betraying her country. Which doesn’t mean she couldn’t have been arrested for treason if she’d been caught after she married Charles and became a British citizen.
I think for Charles part of it is that she believed in her cause more than he did in his and even more than that the fundamentally their ideals are very similar (their tactics differ though, which is going to continue to be an issue for them). Part of it is that he loves her and their life together. And part of it is that he’s been a spy himself and he recognizes that she was “doing her job.”
None of which makes it easy :-).
May 26, 2009 at 4:10 pm
Not easy but extremely compelling!
And hey, I guess being married to someone who understands your work could be an advantage, especially when you stay out too late! 😉
May 26, 2009 at 4:19 pm
I hope so! (re: the compelling).
As to being married to someone who understand one’s work–quite :-). Not to mention knowing not to ask inconvenient questions.
May 28, 2009 at 3:14 am
Hi Tracy,
We met briefly at the Dorothy Dunnett Edinburgh Convention in 2000, but I haven’t posted here before.
I’ve found this discussion really interesting. Another variation on the theme is Pam Rosenthal’s ‘The Slightest Provocation’, where they married young, there was bad behaviour on both sides, and a long separation, but with maturity they realise that what draws them together is more important than past mistakes.
As for the difficulties of being in a relationship with a spy, Sebastian St Cyr & Kat Boleyn in CS Harris’ series are an interesting example, though they also have other issues keeping them apart (Note: I haven’t read book 4 yet).
May 28, 2009 at 3:31 am
Hi Lesley! Thanks so much for posting! It was great to meet you in Edinburgh in 2000. The Dunnett convention was so much fun!
I love “The Slightest Provacation.” You’re right, the marriage that starts out happy (or at least with the two people in love), then runs into trouble leading to a separation, is a third category from the two Stephanie defined. Sherry Thomas’s “Not Quite a Husband” would fit in this category (though the problems started before the actual marriage) as would Mary Jo Putney’s “Silk and Secrets” (of which there’s an interesting discussion on AAR right now: http://aarboards.com/viewtopic.php?t=5272). One of the things I love in “The Slightest Provocation” is the way the flashbacks are interwoven, so the reader learns about Kit and Mary’s marriage as they reflect back on it.
Sebastian and Kat are definitely a great example of the complications for spies in a relationship (btw, did you know C.S. Harris/Candice Proctor is also a Dunnett reader?).
June 1, 2009 at 12:19 am
I see I’m chiming in with the chorus about The Slightest Provocation. What I love about TSP is exactly what you mentioned–the way Kit and Mary know how to push each other’s buttons. Combined with the flashbacks, Rosenthal convinces me the button-pushing is a sign of intimacy and of something worth salvaging, not a sign of toxicity.
June 1, 2009 at 6:09 am
Great point, RfP. You’re right, the button pushing in TSP is a sign of intimacy and something worth salvaging. In an odd way, I think it also is in “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?.” Perhaps because one has to know a person very well indeed to know exactly what remarks/actions will wound/anger them. And if two people know each other well enough to hurt each other, they may also know each other enough to bring each other comfort and understanding.
June 2, 2009 at 1:31 pm
That’s interesting. I remember very clearly my first encounter with Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, because the button-pushing kept me on the edge of my seat. It’s an edgy sort of intimacy, equal parts pain and understanding. I feel the same ways about parts of The Taming of the Shrew, with extra uncertainty because Katherina and Petruchio have just met. Were they both just expert button-pushers, or did they instantly connect with each other?
June 2, 2009 at 4:55 pm
I first saw “Virginia Woolf” as a teenager and it totally fascinated me. “Edgy intimacy” is a great way to describe it. Great comparison to “Taming of the Shrew.” I think both Kate and Petruchio are used to sizing people up and then pushing their buttons to get what they want, and being of similar temperament, they can both play each other brilliantly from that first scene.
October 19, 2014 at 11:44 pm
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Marriage in Trouble Plots | Tracy Grant – Novelist