Rethinking the Modern “Literary Man”
In discussing George Gissing’s New Grub Street, scholars have primarily used the male characters’ authorship to analyze the publishing industry’s market culture in late-Victorian England. After the Industrial Revolution, manufacturing and marketing significantly influenced the literary market, making it far more professional and competitive. Such a socio-economic change led to more quasi-professional writers who prioritized economic gain over aesthetic values. Stephen E. Severn proposes that to become a quasi-professional “literary man” in this context, a person must meet “the requirement of qualification,” “have an institutionalized identity,” and possess “a sense of separation from other social groups” (169). Nevertheless, as Margaret Diane Stetz suggests, “such claims of universality based solely on male experience must be greeted with a measure of skepticism” (25). Since male authors are more prevalent in this market, Severn’s male-dominant criteria primarily focus on external aspects of writing, emphasizing writers’ connections and recognition by others and by literary institutions. But this framework ignores the act of writing itself. Several male authors in the novel, although defined as “literary men” under Severn’s framework, struggle to write in the first place. This indicates that to understand the literary world in late-Victorian England comprehensively, readers must also pay attention to its internal aspect—the act of writing itself.
 

My paper examines the involvement of women, particularly Marian Yule and Dora
Milvain, in writing and the literary world. Compared to male authors, female authors appear much less frequently in New Grub Street. However, female characters do write in the novel, suggesting that their writing is more internal than that of the “modern literary man,” who cares about qualifications and institutions. Marian Yule receives professional training in literature and rhetoric and thus produces excellent scholarly writings. Yet, the modern literary man, Jasper, defines her as a literary “girl” rather than “woman” because of her detachment from marriage and domesticity. Marian even dehumanizes herself into a literary machine through her consistently repetitive, passive, and involuntary writing. In contrast, Dora lacks the extensive scholarly training that Marian does, and she starts writing passively under Jasper’s persuasion. Yet, Dora’s writing gradually becomes increasingly active and voluntary, shown by her continuation of writing after getting married to Mr. Whelpdale. She further proposes a new writing principle: fostering self-worth and avoiding hurting others. The juxtaposition of Marian and Dora suggests that to be a “modern literary woman,” a female author must first become a full woman, within normative social structures, while also cultivating agency in her writing. Therefore, unlike the external criteria of being a modern literary man, the “modern literary woman” in late-Victorian England emerges through a combination of normative femininity and active, self-directed writing grounded in personal agency and ethical awareness.

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Marian Yule: From the Professional Writer to the Literary Machine / Girl
Within the male-dominated framework, Marian stands out as the most qualified modern literary figure among the female authors. She not only fulfills all three of Severn’s criteria for being a literary (wo)man but also associates with “modernity” as Jasper defines it. However, she never qualifies as a “modern literary woman”—either to herself or to other “literary men” according to Severn’s definition, such as Jasper Milvain—because her writing is fundamentally involuntary and passive. To Marian, her repetitive, involuntary writing that lacks originality diminishes her to a literary “machine.” To Jasper, her professionalism in the literary market and her absence from domestic life label her as a permanent literary “girl,” rather than a “woman.” This suggests that to become a “modern literary woman,” a female author’s marriage and active, voluntary writing weigh more than her professionalism in the literary market.
 

According to Severn’s three criteria of being a literary (wo)man, Marian is the most
qualified literary subject among the female authors. Receiving extensive training in scholarly research from both her father, Alfred Yule, and her English education, she produces numerous high-quality academic works. Such a literary background and skills make her fulfill Severn’s first criterion, “requirement of qualification” (Severn 169). Severn also suggests that “the literary world emerges as an embodied presence in New Grub Street through the Reading Room of the British Museum” (170). Within this standard, Marian has access to the British Museum’s Reading Room, which requires a recommendation letter for entry, implying her membership in a prominent literary institution. She also has contact with literary editors in the market, as shown by her hesitation to sign the contract to publish her works, further suggesting that she is recognized by publishing institutions and fulfilling Severn’s second criterion by “hav[ing]” an institutionalized identity (Severn 169). Moreover, “Marian’s superiority in native power, in delicacy of feeling, in the results of education, could never be lost sight of” (Gissing 125). Gissing’s word choice, “superiority,” initially refers to “a higher rank, quality, or importance,” implying that Marian has greater skills in reading, writing, and speaking (“superior,” def. 2). Her question— “Why doesn’t mother speak as properly as we do?”—suggests she sees herself as separate from non-literary characters like her mother, Mrs. Alfred Yule (Gissing 132). Unlike Mrs. Alfred Yule, who speaks with “the accent of the London poor,” Marian has a decent background in literature and rhetoric, and therefore speaks and writes properly (Gissing 125). This distinguishes her from [non-literary] social groups, fulfilling Severn’s final criterion.
 

Beyond meeting Severn’s criteria for becoming a literary (wo)man, Marian enters this
male-dominated literary market as a female. Her professionalism as a writer aligns with Jasper’s definition of modernity and thus qualifies her as a modern literary female author. From Jasper’s perspective, a character is regarded as modern primarily due to their entry into the professional market in the first place. The New Grub Street “is supplied with telegraphic communication” and fulfills “men of business,” indicating that the literary world of late-Victorian England shifted into a competitive, trading market (Gissing 63). To become a “modern” literary man, or “the literary man of 1882,” a male writer no longer needs to produce literary works with high aesthetic values like Homer and Shakespeare but becomes a “skillful tradesman” who “thinks first and foremost of the [literary] markets” (Gissing 62). Similarly, to become a modern literary woman/girl in this context, a female author must first enter the literary market. Penny Boumelha suggests that in fin-de-siecle, “professionalisation comes [with] a certain status of self-worth often new to women” (166). She associates the notion of “professionalization” with the word “new” from women’s perspectives, suggesting that women’s transition from domesticity to professionalism in the literary industry becomes a new trend, representing the so-called “modernity” of female authors. When Jasper persuades Dora and Maud to write a children’s book, he introduces Marian as “a good example of the modern literary girl.” Defining Marian as “modern,” Jasper describes her as “a pale-faced girl whom [he knows] by sight at the British Museum” and “dweller in the valley of the shadow of books” (Gissing 63). Jasper associates Marian twice with the literary world: by connecting his impression of Marian to her involvement in the Reading Room, he implies that Marian’s identity is closely linked to literary institutions; by equating her with “the dweller in the valley of…books,” he suggests that Marian’s identity is tied to the act of reading and writing itself. Together, these two depictions suggest Marian is not just a reader and author—more precisely, a freelance writer—but a professional writer recognized by literary
institutions. Such a notion of professionality—the entrance of literary institutions—becomes a defining characteristic of what Jasper calls modernity.
 

However, Marian never fully qualifies as a modern literary woman, neither in her own
perspective, nor in the eyes of the “literary men.” Although she meets both Severn’s criteria of a literary (wo)man and Jasper’s definition of modernity, her writing itself remains fundamentally passive and involuntary. Not to mention, Marian devalues herself, calling herself a literary machine. While studying in the Reading Room, a scholarly institution that marks her identity as a professional writer, she feels herself “not a woman, but a mere machine for reading and writing” (Gissing 142). This is because she writes involuntarily at the beginning. She is not interested in her work at all, but instead is “forced by her father to research and to compose the bulk of his essays on literary subjects” (Stetz 27). For instance, at the beginning of the novel, “her task at present [is] to collect materials for a paper on ‘French Authoresses of the Seventeenth Century,’ the kind of thing which her father supplied on stipulated terms for anonymous publication” (Gissing 120). The word “task” refers to “a usually assigned piece,” “something hard or unpleasant that has to be done,” and “duty [or] function” (“task” def. 1). This particular word choice indicates that Marian views her scholarly research as not just an involuntary “task” but also as an unpleasant duty. The attributive clause, “which her father supplied on stipulated terms,” with the subject “her father,” also indicates that this project follows the will of Alfred rather than Marian’s, thereby implying her passivity. More seriously, Marian sees herself as “a slave” who is “treated unjustly” when Alfred asks her to finish copying ‘English Prose in the Nineteenth Century’ (Gissing 200). The use of a serious word like “slave” further shows that Marian lacks autonomy in her writing and only does what Alfred demands.

Marian’s passive writing in the professional literary industry prevents her
from creating original works, causing her to dehumanize herself into a literary machine. The most frequent work Marian does in the Reading Room is to “copy” what Alfred demands. “She exhaust[s] herself in the manufacture of printed stuff with no one even pretend[ing] to be more than a commodity for the day’s market” (Gissing 143). “In a publishing world newly stocked with inexpensive paper,” the invention of printing machines and international trade has reduced the costs of paper and printing time, thereby generating a mass production culture where everyone treats writing as a commodity (Menke 69). While immersing “in the manufacture of printed stuff” in the Reading Room, Marian “sees a cycle of endless remanufacture” (Menke 75). Marian equates her copying task with the manufacturing printing process, characterized by repetition, endlessness, and worthlessness. She follows the same routine every day, copying and
printing what Alfred asks her to do in the same space, emphasizing the repetitive, endless nature of her task. Moreover, Marian considers originality as the core of writing. She thought that “[Alfred] had abandoned all thought of original production, and only wrote about writing” (Gissing 143). This suggests that, for Marian, writing means creating a new idea and story. Yet, her scholarly writing is neither voluntary nor innovative, but instead a passive, repetitive, and meaningless work guided by her father’s will. Such a kind of reading and writing restrains Marian from becoming a modern literary person, according to her own standards. Marian’s failure further suggests that Severn’s male-centered criteria, which emphasize professionalism, fail to guarantee that a female author will become a modern literary person.
 

Besides crafting original thoughts voluntarily, to fully become a modern literary
“woman,” a female writer must also meet the social expectations of womanhood, which is
characterized by marriage and domestic responsibilities. Although Jasper rewards Marian’s
intellectual and professional abilities, he defines her as a permanent modern literary “girl” rather than a “woman.” When Jasper and Amy get married at the end of the novel, Jasper compares the womanhood of Amy and Marian as follows: “My dearest, you are a perfect woman, and poor Marian was only a clever school-girl…I never could help imagining that she has ink-stains on her fingers” (Gissing 493-494). Amy’s lack of involvement in the professional literary market, paired with her focus on domestic responsibilities like getting married, taking care of children, and “support [of] her husband’s professional literary ambitions,” makes her a model of the “perfect woman” in late-Victorian England (Knox 102). When Edith Carter proposes that “[Amy] could write books as clever as [her] husband’s, Amy responds, “I have no intention of trying” (Gissing 168), believing that writing is a man’s job. In contrast, Marian never enters the domestic life, instead putting all her efforts into her professional literary work, which “deprives [s] her of her womanhood, as defined in terms of marriage and fertility, and arrested her in a kind of sickly adolescence” (Knox 102). While she has engaged with Jasper, she never gets married; even in her own house, “her mother has readied a meal, encourages her to rest, and has no domestic chores to lay upon her” (Stetz 29). Jasper’s word— “ink-stains on her fingers”—further suggests the dual nature of Marian’s identity: on the one hand, “ink-stains” directly reflect her professional role as a writer; on the other hand, the word “stains” suggests dirt, implying that Marian’s identity fails to meet the social expectations of women. This makes her, compared to the “perfect woman,” Amy, Marian remains a modern literary “school-girl.” In other words, Marian’s detachment from marriage and domestic responsibilities prevents her from becoming a full woman, and thereby by no chance becoming a “modern literary woman.”
 

Marian’s failure to become a modern literary woman, who is instead a literary
machine in her standard and a modern literary girl in Jasper’s definition, urges us to reconsider Severn’s male-centered criteria of literary (wo)man. While Marian meets all three criteria of Severn’s that emphasize the external aspect of writing and professionalism in the literary market, she fails to truly become a modern literary woman because of both her involuntary, passive writings that lack originality and her detachment from marriage and domestic responsibilities. This further suggests that if a female writer in late-Victorian England aims to become a modern literary woman, she must prioritize both her active, voluntary, and original writing and her responsibilities as a wife over entering the male-dominated literary industry professionally.

 

Dora Milvain: From the Passive Writer to the Modern Literary Woman
Unlike Marian, Dora Milvain gradually becomes a “modern literary woman” by transforming writing from a passive activity into an act of agency and ethical self-definition. At the start of her writing journey, Dora fails to fulfill Severn’s criteria of becoming a literary (wo)man because of her lack of scholarly training and professionalism. She does not even fit Marian’s definition of a modern literary woman, who crafts original thoughts voluntarily and actively. After all, she begins to write by Jasper’s persuasion instead of her own. However, she continues writing The English Girl after engaging in and marrying Whelpdale, suggesting that her writing gradually becomes more active and voluntary. Such self-directed writing makes her a modern literary woman, based on the lesson that Marian’s failure teaches us. Beyond that, Dora proposes an innovative writing philosophy: writing for self-satisfaction rather than harming others. Her success sets a new standard for the modern literary woman as a female author who both meets normative femininity and crafts active, voluntary, and original writings, with self-satisfaction and without harming others.
 

Dora initially fails to qualify as a literary subject because her writing lacks both institutional grounding and personal agency. She does not meet Severn’s criteria of being a literary (wo)man because she lacks formal scholarly education, access to the British Museum, or a separate identity from other characters. Her writing begins passively and lacks originality, under the guidance of “[her] brother into writing historical texts for children and the other” (Stetz 27). When Jasper persuades Dora and Maud to write, he says, “Why don’t you girls write something? I’m convinced you could make money if you tried” (Gissing 60). While Jasper’s decision to ask his sisters to write is both economically motivated and because he “can’t manage stories,” Dora begins to consider writing something after Jasper’s persuasion. This suggests that Dora’s motivation for writing is, similar to Marian’s, fundamentally passive. Dora’s inability to meet either Severn’s or Marian’s criteria of a modern literary subject further indicates that she lacks professionalism, an active voice, and originality in her writing initially.
 

However, Dora’s writing philosophy provides a new definition of modern literary
(wo)man—the act of writing should be self-worth and harmless to others. When Jasper and Maud discuss the economic and literary value of Jasper’s work in reviewing papers for magazines, Dora defines Jasper’s response—“pretty much what I thought”—as “the purpose [of his work]” and adds, “it does no any harm” (Gissing 207-208). Dora’s responses suggest her definition of the value of reading and writing. She equates Jasper’s self-satisfaction with the purpose of his work, without the external forces Jasper considers necessary, from economic interests to reputation. This standard suggests that, for Dora, the feeling of self-worth serves as the primary value of engaging with literary works. Moreover, in responding “it does no any harm,” Dora suggests that the second fundamental of reading and writing is to avoid harming other people. Dora’s writing philosophy is based on her life philosophy of not hurting other people. She claims to be dissatisfied with Jasper and Amy’s marriage because “[Amy] killed her husband…by her base conduct. She is a cold, cruel, unprincipled creature” (Gissing 491). Dora’s hatred of Amy stems from Amy’s indirect murder of Reardon, since her greedy economic demands negatively influence Reardon’s mental health and ability to write. What is unbearable to Dora is Amy’s negative impact on Reardon, instead of her demanding nature. Unlike Jasper, who sees Amy as a perfect woman, Dora describes Amy as a “cold, cruel, unprincipled creature,” meaning that Dora views Amy merely as a living subject rather than a full human or woman. This is because Amy’s “cold[ness], cruel[ity], [and] unprincipled[ness]” hurt other people. To Dora, reading and writing, as an act of living, should follow the same principle of not bringing harm to other people. In this sense, to become a modern literary subject according to Dora’s definition, a writer needs to be both satisfied with their work and not bring harm to others.
 

As mentioned, Marian never becomes a fully developed woman because her literary
professionalism keeps her a forever schoolgirl, and her “emotional dissociation from the texts that she reads and writes about” reduces her to a literary machine (Knox 95). However, Dora’s experience of writing The English Girl fosters not just her engagement with the literary world—self-satisfactory and never harming others—but also her womanhood. When engaging with Whelpdale, Dora is aware that “it’s [her] story in The English Girl that inclines [him] to think of [her] a goody-goody sort of young woman” (Gissing 445). Dora’s own association of her writing of The English Girl with Whelpdale’s perception of her being a “goody-goody sort of young woman” suggests her satisfaction with her intellectual ability in crafting the story. Instead of harming people, her intellectual writing further attracts Whelpdale romantically. Each aspect indicates that Dora fulfills her own definition of a literary person. Whelpdale considers Dora’s writing as “the best thing of the kind that ever came under [his] notice” and predicts her to be “the new writer for modern English girls” (Gissing 446). Although Whelpdale’s praise of Dora may stem from his attraction to her and his desire to marry her, he offers a new lens on womanliness for female writers, which differs from the stereotypical social expectation for women to stick to domestic responsibilities. Whelpdale explicitly associates Dora’s intellectual ability in writing stories with her target audience, “the most important part of the population—the educated and refined young people who are just passing from girlhood to womanhood” (Gissing 446). This suggests that writing and womanhood can coexist, and a female writer can be considered a fully developed woman by writing for female audiences.
 

Furthermore, Dora’s marriage to Whelpdale later does not affect her writing, suggesting that her writing gradually becomes voluntary. The juxtaposition between Marian and Amy—Marian’s professionalism restrains her from becoming a full woman, yet Amy’s status as a perfect woman restrains her from entering the professional literary market—appears to suggest that marriage and writing are mutually exclusive to female characters. However, after Dora gets married to Whelpdale, “she ha[s] no thought of entirely abandoning literature, and ha[s] in hand at present a very pretty tale which would probably appear in The English Girl” (Gissing 489). Dora continues writing The English Girl after getting married and becoming involved in domestic life, the defining characteristics of a perfect woman in late-Victorian England. Her decision and action of continuity indicate that her writing becomes her own ambition increasingly, even though it was initially involuntary and passive. That means, in addition to fulfilling her own definition of a modern literary person, she further qualifies as a modern literary woman who gets married yet continues writing voluntarily.
 

Unlike Marian, Dora lacks professional training and recognition from literary institutions,
which prevents her from becoming a literary (wo)man according to Severn’s criteria. However, in contrast to Marian’s passive and involuntary writing on scholarly works that lack originality, Dora continues writing The English Girl after marrying Whelpdale. Her continued writing suggests that she is becoming more actively engaged and original, without detaching herself from the normative femininity that emphasizes marriage and domestic responsibilities. Her principle of writing further provides an additional lens on the notion of the modern literary woman—writing for self-esteem and to avoid harming others. In this sense, Dora’s relative success in becoming a modern literary woman provides a holistic, female-centered definition of “modern literary woman” that emphasizes the act of writing itself more than Severn’s criteria: while fulfilling normative femininity, a female writer should not only engage in active, voluntary, and original writing but also write for self-esteem without harming others.

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On Becoming “Modern Literary Woman” in New Grub Street
Through comparing and contrasting Marian Yule and Dora Milvain’s relative failure and
success in becoming “modern literary women,” I propose a new, female-centered notion of the “modern literary woman” in New Grub Street. While Marian meets all Severn’s criteria of the literary (wo)man, she never qualifies as a modern literary (wo)man because of her lack of normative womanhood and engagement in active, voluntary, and original writing. In contrast, although Dora lacks professionalism and recognition in the literary world, she continues to write voluntarily after getting married and proposes her own writing principles. The contrast between Marian and Dora suggests three criteria for becoming a “modern literary woman”: fulfillment of womanhood, defined by female characters’ engagement with marriage and domestic responsibilities; engagement in active, voluntary, and original writing; and writing for self-esteem and to avoid harm to others. This framework exposes the limits of Severn’s model, which privileges external, institutional validation while neglecting the internal dynamics of authorship. This redefinition not only reshapes the category of the “modern literary woman,” but also invites a reconsideration of the “modern literary man” in a more comprehensive way: do male writers also need to consider their act of writing as a criterion of becoming a modern literary man? Do they also need to meet the social expectation of masculinity, which emphasizes earning economic interests and provides a safeguard for their family? Should they also consider writing to improve self-esteem and avoid harming other people? Future research could apply my notion of the “modern literary woman” to examine the distinct difficulties faced by male and female authors in late-Victorian England and ultimately create a more comprehensive framework of gender and authorship in New Grub Street.