6 minute read
Howards End: The Edwardian Lesson on Dialogue
Dorota Osińska
When you open E. M. Forster’s Edwardian novel Howards End, what you immediately notice is a short epigraph ‘...only connect’ which is as relevant today as it was at the beginning of the twentieth century. Simple, straightforward, and suggestive, especially in the modern age of social divisions, political polarities, and constantly growing discrepancies in all aspects of life. What Forster proposes is the vision of human connection that is based on a profound exchange of experiences and mutual acknowledgement of these feelings. However, throughout the novel, he shows that the art of dialogue, though precious and desired, may be difficult to master.
My fascination with Howards End started with the 2017 TV series that was released by BBC One and Starz TV. I thought – the cast is amazing, the storyline seems great, and the novel was adapted by the phenomenal Kenneth Lonergan (he was awarded the Oscar for his subtle and poignant writing style in the heart-wrenching Manchester by the Sea) so I needed to see it. Truly, the series was full of tension, witty dialogues, and exceptionally great acting. Funnily enough, because at that time, I considered myself a serious literature student who should know all the classics (I guess not anymore), I decided it was time for the book.
Admittedly, despite its slow pace, the novel is even better than its TV adaptation. Howards End is Forster’s exploration into the social, economic, and ideological forces that operated in England during the early years of the 20th century. On the surface, the book can be labelled as a ‘Condition of England’ novel and it neatly shows tensions between the old and the new; between the traditional and the unconventional. In Forster’s view, modernity is not only related to rapid economic progress, the expansion of capitalism, and the turmoil in British colonies. For him, the core of the problem lies in the rift between the working and the upper-middle class; it is about estrangement from beauty, art, and one’s own roots.
To investigate these hostilities and divisions, Forster explores the lives of three families: the intellectual, adventurous, idealistic, and art-loving Schlegels; the pragmatic, down-to-earth, new money Wilcoxes; and the impoverished Basts who desperately view literature as salvation from misery and social exclusion. Forster’s attitude towards these families is odd. At first, he contrasts them, compares them, and emphasises the differences in social rank. However, the lives of these families gradually become intertwined and tightly linked to one another in strange and unexpected ways. As the plot develops, Forster connects the fates and struggles of the families in a powerfully evocative way, dismantling the readers’ expectations about the heroes and the villains of the story.
The narrative cleverly represents the repeated attempts to talk, discuss, and come into dialogue. In the early episode of the novel, Forster’s female characters dive deep into the question of women’s emancipation and franchise, showing a deep disjunction among women and how that disjunction is tightly lined by the difference in age. Although the scene could be interpreted as a moment of hostility, both protagonists involved in the discussion cherished these moments of conflict and mutual misunderstanding. Moreover, Forster paints various pictures of marital dialogues and sometimes a complete lack of relations in the marriage. Either there are no disputes between the spouses and that turns out to be a fertile ground for maintaining dark secrets and years of living in a lie; or the conversations between the husband and the wife boil down to the deluge of nagging questions and convoluted answers. Still, there are also moments of profound connection between characters that escape the linguistic forms of a dialogue – the protagonists have a deeper understanding of each other and they communicate without language. It is replaced by furtive glances, gentle touches or surprised stares. Also, the familial dialogue appears strange but compelling to read – the relationship between the father and the son is presented as full of fights but each argument fosters an odd camaraderie between the men; the bond between the Schlegels is marked by mutual trust, humour, innocent teasing, but, more importantly, tough conversations about love, capitalism, art, and future. Despite the permeating roles of forgiveness and sympathy, Howards End primarily notes the complexities of forming sincere bonds with others.
With the dialogue between characters, there is also a thought-provoking commentary on the otherness. Throughout the book, Forster’s characters cross the boundaries of their social standings, preconceptions, and beliefs –Mrs Wilcox (conservative, traditional, and English) befriends Margaret Schlegel (idealistic, progressive, and of German origin), the Schlegel siblings (upper-middle class) get to know Mr Bast (working class), Mr Wilcox (representing British Empire) knows Mrs Bast (probably a person of colour, but that is only subtly implied in the text). Indeed, that recognition of the otherness and the attempts to come into dialogue with it appear to be the most striking part of Howards End as they do not assume that connection equals understanding. At one point in the book, Margaret Schlegel explains her sister the decision to marry one of the characters, noting that ‘[t]here are heaps of things in me that he doesn’t, and shall never, understand.’ In this way, Forster further complicates the intersection between dialogue, understanding, and connection.
Howards End is slow, the plot lacks obvious twists and turns, and there is no apparent resolution. I assume that this piece is not a good advertisement for the book. But if we give it a try, we end up discovering how the issues portrayed in Forster’s novel shed new light on modern problems. We find ourselves in the intricate web of economic systems that create numerous irreversible social tensions, and we try to navigate them as skilfully as we can. Similarly to Forster’s text, contemporary art, poetry, literature, and the concepts of beauty and goodness have to compete with the functionality and optimisation of the systems of modern corporations. Like in Forster’s Edwardian times, nowadays there are still deeply rooted anxieties concerning the questions of forgiveness, nationality, and identity.
I believe that Forster’s novel encourages us to notice that the art of dialogue remains a skill to learn and practise regularly. Ultimately, it is an act. Above all, what Forster continuously suggests in Howards End is that we should try to connect, even though it may bring us a sense of confusion or even disappointment with other people. Yet, that dialogue should be characterised by the willingness to listen and the recognition of the other person’s experience.
