There was an interesting piece in the Independent on Sunday’s The New Review this weekend.
In the Arts & Books section, Joy Lo Dico had written an article about a new collection of “Love Letters Of Great Women”, edited by Ursula Doyle, and published by Macmillan.
The publication of this collection was the opportunity for Lo Dico to write about women’s billet-doux, mentioning such examples as Anne Boleyn, writing a letter prior to Henry VIII deciding to chop her head off.
Now, we have no problem with the article, per se. It’s the illustrations for the feature that interested us.
Here’s the contemporary portrait of Anne Boleyn, as commonly used to illustrate articles about her.
But here’s who the Sindy describes as “Anne Boleyn”.
Notice a difference? The contemporary portrait has been eschewed, in favour of a 19th century, romanticised, prettified version of what Boleyn may have – but probably didn’t – looked like.
Presumably, this version fit the romantic and more domestic story it illustrated better than the powerful, hands-on-hips Tudor original.
The arts have had a tendency to prettify famous women in history. Apparently, we can’t deal with plain heroines. It’s ironic that Charlotte Bronte created in Jane Eyre an unconventional looking, plain, woman as her heroine, when she has been subject to prettification herself.
Even while she was alive, London society couldn’t deal with the fact that a famous female novelist, seen as romantic for her isolation in a moorside vicarage and her corset-bursting tales, could actually be a four foot something, cripplingly short-sighted, plain Yorkshirewoman.
George Richmond painted a somewhat romantic portrait of Charlotte in her lifetime, that now adorns many books by and about her.
This was itself seen, by some, as too plain; a further, even more airbrushed, version of Richmond’s portrait was required to match people’s perceptions of what a romantic novelist should look like.
So when a photograph of Bronte – taken around the time of her marriage in the 1850s – surfaced over 100 years after Bronte’s death, you can imagine the shock.
No, actually, you can’t. It looks like an ordinary Victorian woman, doesn’t it? But that was the problem – the 20th century readers didn’t want their romantic heroine to look like an ordinary married woman in her 30s anymore than the Victorians did. There were headlines about her frumpishness, with fans denouncing the photo as a fake – they couldn’t deal with their idol not looking like a romantic ideal.
And this attitude seems to be prevalent even today, in a national newspaper, by the sub, or the picture researcher, or whoever.
Anne Boleyn can’t be a proud, haughty, strong woman. She has to be depicted in her Victorian chasteness, all downcast eyes and sad mouth. That fits the “domestic bliss” image being promoted in this feature.
But just like the girly interpretations of Charlotte Bronte’s image, it’s fake, and does the women in question no favours.
