The Librarything Virago group’s ‘reading the 1940s’ event allows those of us taking part, to read widely, taking in many different parts of the world. Martha Gellhorn’s devastating 1944 novel Liana takes us to a fictional French Caribbean island in 1940 – a world away from the European war, and yet not entirely unaffected by it.
Martha Gellhorn was an American journalist, novelist and travel writer, often described as one of the great war correspondents of the twentieth century. Today there is a journalism prize named after her. In Liana she clearly had something to say about the relationships between men and women – and particularly between whites and blacks. There is a huge power imbalance between a wealthy white man and a poor, young mixed-race woman at this time, and Gellhorn explores this imbalance to perfection. My first time reading Martha Gellhorn, it won’t be my last.
“Liana’s table manners were certainly better than Marc’s, as she was graceful and full of care and he was neither. She had learned this finicking voice to go with the cautious tidy French she now spoke. She wore her elegance like varnish all over her. The servants did not smile when she gave them orders. They did not even smile with their eyes. Liana was haughty out of fear, but after months of use her haughtiness looked genuine.”
1940, France has fallen to the Germans but all that seems a long way from the tiny island of St Boniface where no news seems to interest the inhabitants more than the marriage of wealthy Marc Royer. Having met Liana; a young woman of mixed heritage -he takes her into his home as his mistress. Nobody bats an eyelid – this kind of behaviour is perfectly acceptable, even expected of wealthy white men. Marc has an odd, almost obsessional relationship with another woman, Marie – who once married his brother – but is now a widow. Marie entertains Marc at her home; La Paradis, a couple of evening a week – yet keeps him at arm’s length. To spite Marie, Marc marries Liana – an event which sends shock waves through the island and gives the gossips something to talk about for months. No white man, has ever married a black woman before, and no one can quite believe what Marc has done.
This marriage appears to be completely life-changing for Liana – Marc is wealthy – he has a fine, gracious house with servants, indoor plumbing – better than that a beautiful, warm tiled bathroom. Marc wants Liana to look like the white wives, and orders lots of beautiful clothes for her to wear, encourages her to put up her hair, he decides to call her Julie. For a little while Liana believes she can be like the white wives, her mother assures Liana that Marc can’t possibly despise her if he marries her, that the wife sits at the head of the table it’s the reason she marries Marc.
“Liana looked at the iron cook pot on the smoke-blackened hearth. She was thinking: dances and card parties and all the lights burning in the house at night. Picnics, she thought, and birthday presents and going to church on Sunday wearing fine clothes and a hat and gloves.”
Liana’s mother Lucie and Liana’s younger half siblings still live up the mountain, in a small shack. This is the life Liana escapes from when she agrees to marry Marc, she doesn’t love him, she knows he doesn’t love her. He desires her, he enjoys owning her, Liana can respond to Marc sexually, but she has no real affection for him. She has no better experience to compare her relationship to – but she clearly doesn’t expect fairy tales. When Liana returns to her mother’s house on a visit, she is repulsed by the life she has left behind her, the stench of the latrine, sleeping nestled up against the bodies of her siblings in the room where the cooking smells still hang in the air – and where the heat rises throughout the night. She knows she can’t return to this life.
Liana soon starts to see her marriage for the prison that it is. It doesn’t matter what clothes Liana wears, or how she wears her hair – Liana will never be accepted by either community – she doesn’t belong anywhere on the island where society runs very much along colour lines.
“‘Julie’ he said to his wife in an easy voice, not a voice for quarrel. ‘as you have nothing to do, I find it absurd that you do not arrange better meals. You get plenty of money for housekeeping.’
Her name was not Julie; Julie was the name he chose for her. She despised it knowing that he wanted a wife who would fit that name, neat faced with a small pink mouth and a terrible tiredness in her and around her.”
Marc takes her out for rides in the car, but he never takes her to pay visits, no one ever comes to the house. Marc is out and about doing business, still spending several evenings a week with Marie – while Liana stays in the house – with nothing to do, and no one to talk to.
Pierre Vauclain arrives on St Boniface – traumatised by the occupation of his country. He takes up the position of school teacher. The school only operates in the morning, and so Marc, sensing a man in need of more money, and finally recognising that his young wife has nothing to do – employs him to teach Liana in the afternoons.
Liana finds happiness and freedom in the company of Pierre – reading and discussing literature, swimming and having picnics by the sea. The inevitable happens – and Liana knows finally what it is to love someone. However, Pierre is a man, a white man, and he knows just where his allegiances lie.
There is an inevitability to Liana’s story, Gellhorn’s novel about oppression and inhumanity is still as powerful today as it was in 1944.
heavenali 
A great review of what sounds like an excellent book. I simply wasn’t aware that Gellhorn had written fiction during her career. I guess I’d always associated her with journalism and travel writing rather than novels…fascinating stuff, Ali.
Yes she is clearly well known for her travel and journalistic writings but she wrote novels and short stories too. I want to read more by her now.
Very interesting to read this. I read Gellhorn’s Travels with Myself and Another recently in which she writes about her ‘holidays’ in difficult places much of which is taken up with her travels in Africa. It can make uncomfortable reading at times in terms of her apparently quite racist opinions but she clearly wasn’t that at all. It’s a case of reading a book of a particular moment with twentieth-first century sensibilities.
Tbh it was hard to gauge what her own attitudes were, of course there is language we don’t use now in the book but nothing like as bad as I have seen used quite casually in fiction of that era. She clearly has sympathy with Liana’s position, but she also presents her as having no options. Was that always the case? Also she presents the lifestyle of Liana’s family as wholly negative, I did worry that this negativity (little sign of any affection even within the family) came directly from her. I couldn’t be sure.
There was a condescending tone that I found difficult. I know what you mean about language and I’m wary of falling into the trap of judging that by today’s standards. I’m sure you must have learnt to deal with that in your own reading. I’m always shocked by the anti-Semitism in British novels, particularly post-war.
Yes, exactly we can’t judge it quite as we would today. She had a lot to say regarding men and their easy taking up and throwing up women like Liana. Regarding the language I think in this book it was more a case of different terminology than casual racisim however she may still have had a slightly superior attitude.
How did I not know she had written fiction? She was such an influential figure in journalism and if this novel is only half as good as her reportage then it would be excellent
Yes, I believe she wrote several novels and collections of stories. I thought this was excellent in many ways, and gave me alot to think about.
Lovely post Ali – I’ve read one of her fictions and also some non fiction and I think she’s such a marvellous writer so I’m glad I have this one too. Her books are not always easy – her honesty can be painful at times – but ishe is an essential writer.
She is certainly honest, I was a little worried that it was her own attitudes that gave the character of Liana so few options in the novel. She clearly had sympathy for her, and something to say about the white men who could suit themselves. She gave me lots to think about.
Beautiful review, and I thank you. As you know, Gellhorn was married to Ernest Hemingway; I wonder how much of him is in the character of Marc? 😉 Also, there is a wonderful collection of Gellhorn’s letters edited by Caroline Moorhead that I read last year. You might wish to read it as well, as it provides insights into her fascinating character. She was quite a determined fireball indeed!
Thanks again,
Karen
Yes, well I couldn’t help but wonder that throughout the novel, I ‘m sure there was an element of Hemingway in Marv, the book came out a year before that marriage ended.
This sounds so readable but also so devastating, as you say in your introduction. I think I’ve got some of her travel writing buried somewhere but none of her fiction – I’ll have to give Gellhorn a try.
I’m sure I would be interested in her travel writing too. There seems to be lots to explore.
I love that this novel kept you up late reading. It doesn’t necessarily sound riveting on the cover description, so that’s a fantastic surprise.
You’re right, I probably wasn’t that attracted by the synopsis as I had had this tbr for a few years. I found it very readable and I just wanted to find out what happened to her.