"Better a fallen rocket than never a burst of light."
~ Tom Stoppard, The Invention of Love

Wednesday, September 18, 2019

Relationship Spotlight: Anne Lister & Ann Walker (Gentleman Jack)


Before I get started, I realize that both the people I’m going to be talking about today are named Ann(e). To reduce the confusion of saying “Anne” and “Ann,” I’ll distinguish them this way: Anne Lister = “Anne,” Ann Walker = “Miss Walker.” I’m also aware that these were real people. However, for this post, I’ll be talking about them strictly within the context of the TV show – I don’t know enough about the real people to make any comments along those lines. Having dispensed with those preliminaries, here we go! (Anne-Miss Walker-related spoilers.)

At first blush, Anne’s decision to seduce Miss Walker feels both cavalier and a little obvious, and on some level, it is. If Anne is a swashbuckling intellectual of a well-traveled woman, leaving scandal and rumors in her wake wherever she goes, Miss Walker is presented as the epitome of Victorian femininity. With her china features, softspoken voice, and gentle demeanor, she fits well into “angel of the house” motifs, a “charming little wife” for anyone. True, she suffers from some sort of nervous complaint, but that can seem like just another way of showing how meek and fragile she is, prone to swooning and the like. And she’s rich to boot? When the two first meet, my brain went, Well, of course Anne is into Miss Walker.

But quickly, things become less straightforward than that. Anne is a player, no doubt, and she helpfully narrates to the camera in early episodes just how she plans to entice the virginal Miss Walker into falling in love with her. However, it’s soon apparent that Miss Walker isn’t just a conquest to Anne, a perfect Victorian prize for her collection. Anne puts the moves on Miss Walker, but Miss Walker captivates Anne without even trying, more than the very independently-minded Anne would probably care to admit. It’s clear in the unstudied way she lights up and, occasionally, starts to babble when she’s around Miss Walker. That’s no play – Anne is smitten.

This is why Anne’s love for Miss Walker puts her at her most vulnerable. Over the course of the season, Anne is increasingly interested in forging as much of a marriage with Miss Walker as she is allowed to have, and Miss Walker’s hesitation absolutely wrecks her. She expresses it in anger more often than grief, but it’s clear in no uncertain terms that Anne views a secure future with Miss Walker as everything she needs, and she can’t bring herself to settle for anything less than that.

In turn, I love how quickly and deeply Miss Walker comes to care about Anne. While other people regard Anne as a curiosity, either to gawk at, puzzle over, or be entertained by, Miss Walker thinks Anne is simply wonderful. She’s utterly taken by Anne’s confident stride and the handsome figure she cuts, defending Anne against anyone who’d titter about her in private. In LGBTQ stories, we so often see masculine gay men and feminine gay women held up as the ideal, and so it delights me to see a Victorian butch like Anne being wholly desired by her gentle feminine lover.

We also see there’s more to Miss Walker than meets the eye. It can’t be denied that she isn’t as eager to throw over societal conventions as Anne; she worries about how things appear, and she agonizes over her immortal soul when a so-called friend casts aspersions on her relationship with Anne. But that doesn’t make Miss Walker weak. She’s survived a great deal before she meets Anne and has been carrying immense burdens entirely alone, and even if Anne perhaps helps her bring it out, the strength that Miss Walker pulls out of herself is there, waiting for her to recognize it. Her choice to be with Anne despite what society tells her is monumental precisely because Miss Walker puts so much stake in it. In choosing love, she realizes how much she’s going against, but she still chooses it anyway.

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