Jacques Saillard: I can fix him
Bunny Manders: I can make him worse

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Jacques Saillard: I can fix him
Bunny Manders: I can make him worse
The ‘New Woman’ rejected: Women in the Raffles stories
Note: Over the course of #rafflesweek, I will post five excerpts from my master’s thesis on E.W. Hornung’s Raffles stories. While each part can be read on its own, I recommend reading them in the order they are posted.
This is Part 4.
(Please see the end for footnotes and works cited.)
Due to the focus on Bunny’s and Raffles’ homosocial relationship, women do not form a significant part of the main narrative. In fact, women are almost completely absent from the Raffles stories (Freeman 2007: 89). Over the course of 27 stories, only five female characters are represented in some kind of depth, and all of them are primarily defined through their relationship with one of the two male protagonists. These women are: Faustina, Amy Werner, Jacques Saillard, Camilla Belsize (all real or purported love interests of Raffles), and Bunny’s fiancée, who remains unnamed. However small the presence of women in the Raffles stories may overall be, the female characters that do appear are distinctly different from each other and serve as fictional representations of the major concepts of femininity that were available to middle-class women in the late-nineteenth century.
Middle-class femininity in the Victorian era
The traditional concept of Victorian middle-class femininity was based on the philosophical concept of the separate spheres (Moran 2006: 35). ‘Natural’ masculine qualities – among them aggression and the ability for rational thought – were perceived to ideally equip men for the public domain; in contrast, women were believed to be physically and intellectually inferior to men and thus more suited to the domestic sphere (Purchase 2006: 73-74). As guardian of the home, a woman could fulfil her ‘natural’ duties of motherhood and domesticity (Powell 1996: 73). This ideal of middle-class femininity was encapsulated in the phrase ‘angel in the house’, which originated from a poem by Coventry Patmore (Moran 2006: 36).
With this confinement to the domestic sphere, women were all but excluded from the public school system (Purchase 2006: 54). Opponents to education reform often claimed that intellectual pursuits would only distract a woman from her duties as wife and mother (Morgan 2007: 38). Nevertheless, educational opportunities for women gradually increased towards the end of the nineteenth century. The Education Act of 1870 ensured that state-funded primary education was available for all British children (Purchase 2006: 6). By 1890, many private schools offered middle-class women the chance “to enjoy an academic education every bit as rigorous as that undertaken by their male contemporaries” (Powell 1996: 73-74). Still, women’s access to the professions was restricted, and they were usually expected to cease working once they became married (Powell 1996: 70-71)1.
In the second half of the nineteenth century, an emerging feminist movement also began to challenge the social and legal limitations women were faced with. The first campaign was aimed against the laws restricting women’s capability of owning property (Poovey 1995: 173). It was proven successful with the passing of the Married Women’s Property Act of 1882, which established women as their own economic agents and thus put an end to the claim a husband had previously had over his wife’s property (Purchase 2006: 6). From the turn of the century onwards, the suffragette movement fought with increasing militancy for women’s right to vote (Brooks 1995: 82). Finally, while the Criminal Law Amendment Act of 1885 did contain a section on “gross indecency” between men, its main purpose was to protect young women from prostitution by raising the age of consent from 13 to 16.
The rise of the ‘New Woman’
Concurrent with these campaigns for improved social rights, late-nineteenth century feminists also proclaimed a new ideal of femininity: the New Woman (Moran 2006: 124). Feminists exposed the idea of the Victorian family idyll as a false utopia by openly addressing the double standard inherent in middle-class marriages: “sexual virtue was expected of the wife but not of the husband” (Ledger 2007: 157). These feminists were divided into two groups: one constituted a social purity movement that was fighting against prostitution and decadent male sexuality (Ledger 2007: 153), while the other group regarded the demand for sexual equality as their main concern (Dowling 1979: 438). New Woman writers like Olive Schreiner, Mona Caird and Sarah Grand rejected marriage and maternity as the ‘natural’ route towards fulfillment (Moran 2006: 125). Their frank discussion of women’s sexual desire provoked outrage among conservative reviewers (Miller 1994: 14). In their minds, the demand for female sexual autonomy, coupled with a clear reluctance to enter the patriarchal power structure of the family unit, endangered the stability of traditional Victorian gender roles (Showalter 1991: 38-39). Additionally, the New Woman’s strive for higher education was considered by many men to be a direct threat to society: they feared it would distract women from their domestic duties (Morgan 2007: 38). More significantly, scientists at the time purported that serious study would “‘dissipate [women’s] feminine energies’ […] just as an athletic girl would become ‘spare and thin or overmuscular, but in any case misshapen’” (Horn 1992: 65). Essentially, mental and physical exertion were perceived to render women infertile (Showalter 1991: 40).
In the public perception, the New Woman’s challenges to traditional gender roles tied them to the Decadent movement (Sinfield 1994: 77). The ‘mannish’ New Woman and the effeminate Dandy were perceived as the major driving forces behind the lamented “sexual anarchy” of 1890s England (Showalter 1991: 3). Consequently, the New Woman movement was caught up in the moral panic surrounding Oscar Wilde’s conviction as well. After 1895, the publication of New Woman writings dramatically decreased, to the point where an article in Punch could triumphantly announce “The End of the New Woman” (Ledger 2007: 167). Even though the genre of New Woman fiction had lost its significance by the turn of the century, the figure of the ‘masculine woman’ (Showalter 1991: 174) remained a part of literature in general.
Jacques Saillard
This is exemplified by the depiction of women in the Raffles stories, which has been interpreted as the raising and subsequent exorcism of “the spectre of the New Woman” (Rance 1990: 5). The most obvious representation of a New Woman in the stories is the Spanish artist Jacques Saillard in “An Old Flame”. The story establishes her as a successful painter who lives in a fashionable flat near Piccadilly with her husband. When she is unexpectedly confronted by a burglar2, she doesn’t scream or faint but remains perfectly in control of her emotions: “[…] like marble she stood, or rather like some beautiful pale bronze; for that was her coloring, and she lost none of it that I could see, neither trembled […]. So she stood without flinching before a masked ruffian […].” (Hornung 2013: 189). Once she has recognised Raffles, she doesn’t report him to the police, but simply lets him leave. Back at their flat, Raffles reveals the true nature of his relationship with Jacques Saillard to Bunny:
‘An old flame?’ said I, gently.
‘A married woman,’ he groaned.
‘So I gathered.’
‘But she always was one, Bunny,’ said he, ruefully. ‘That’s the trouble.’ (Hornung 2013: 193)
When Bunny comments that Jacques Saillard seems to be a clever woman, Raffles’ reaction is quite revealing: “I don’t call Jacques Saillard clever outside her art, but neither do I call her a woman at all. She does man’s work over a man’s name, has the will of any ten men I ever knew, and I don’t mind telling you that I fear her more than any person on God’s earth.” (Hornung 2013: 193; emphasis added).
That Raffles’ fear of Jacques Saillard is not unfounded becomes clear soon afterwards when she turns up on his doorstep, having followed him home from her flat. She now starts to actively pursue Raffles, ignoring all sense of propriety: “It was some weeks since the first untimely visitation of Jacques Saillard, but there had been many others at all hours of the day […].” (Hornung 2013: 195; emphasis added). Not only is Raffles clearly uninterested in her advances, her knowledge of his true identity actively endangers his disguise as Mr. Maturin. So, in order to finally get rid of her, Raffles stages his own death: “Jacques Saillard had made his life impossible, and this was the one escape.” (Hornung 2013: 204).
Thus, Jacques Saillard is established as a threatening “spectre of the New Woman” (Rance 1990: 5). Her profession as a painter allows her a certain amount of financial independence3. Raffles’ admission that he was engaged in an affair with her while she was already married reveals that Jacques Saillard ignores the social norm of a woman having to remain celibate outside the confines of marriage (Showalter 1991: 38)4. Finally, her aggressive pursuit of Raffles shows a blatant disregard for the social conventions of the time: a woman visiting a man’s rooms alone was considered to be engaging in lewd conduct (Morrissey 2014: <http://www.rafflesredux.com/an-old-flame/>). Her open transgression of gender boundaries – exemplified by her adoption of a man’s name (“Jacques”) – threatens Raffles’ own sense of masculinity, which is made clear by his comment, “I fear her more than any person on God’s earth” (Hornung 2013: 193).
The fact that Jacques Saillard is a foreigner is also quite significant. Especially in the first two volumes of the Raffles stories, the New Woman is represented as a ‘foreign’ element endangering the masculinity of the English middle-class man (Rance 1990: 8).
Amy Werner
While Jacques Saillard’s story is featured in The Black Mask, The Amateur Cracksman also contains an example of the ‘foreign’ New Woman. In “The Gift of the Emperor”, the reader is introduced to Amy Werner, an adventurous young woman who has finished her secondary education at a German school and is now on her way back home to Australia alone (Hornung 2013: 101). Amy Werner is doubly foreign: her Australian nationality leads Bunny to disparagingly refer to her as a “Colonial minx” (Hornung 2013: 103), and her German surname and upbringing identify her as distinctly non-English (Rance 1990: 5). Her readiness to openly flirt with two men – Raffles and Captain von Heumann – at the same time reveals her to be a romantically and sexually forthright woman. This frank display of desire again ties the New Woman to the concept of foreignness: non-Europeans were considered to lack the sexual self-control that was hailed as a truly ‘British’ virtue by imperial theorists at the time (Marcus 2012: 425).
Having established the ‘New Woman’ as a foreign danger to an English gentleman’s masculinity, the story then exorcises this spectre through the application of violence. At the end of the story, Raffles and Bunny have been uncovered and are about to be marched off the ship by the police when Raffles asks for a few minutes alone with Amy Werner to say goodbye to her. As Bunny and the inspectors watch, they become witness to one of Raffles’ more violent (certainly his most unchivalrous) acts: “Suddenly – an instant – and the thing was done – a thing I have never known whether to admire or to detest. He caught [Amy Werner] – he kissed her before us all – then flung her from him so that she almost fell.” (Hornung 2013: 113; emphasis added). This physical rejection of the feminine is then immediately followed by a reassertion of the character’s masculinity (Rance 1990: 8). Among the confusion caused by Raffles’ actions, he manages to flee the ship by leaping overboard: “[…] I saw his hands shoot up and his head bob down, and his lithe, spare body cut the sunset as cleanly and precisely as though he had plunged at his leisure from a diver’s board!” (Hornung 2013: 113; emphasis added). Raffles’ elegant dive into the Mediterranean sea serves both to reestablish his masculinity and to reject the threat of foreignness: his “lithe, spare body” reveals his athleticism and thus, as physical strength was considered a key element of gentlemanly masculinity, encapsulates his ‘true’ Englishness (Godfrey 2011: 33).
Faustina
While stories like “An Old Flame” and “The Gift of the Emperor” can be read as outright rejections of the New Woman ideal, “The Fate of Faustina” represents an attempt to claim the superiority of more ‘traditional’ forms of femininity (Rance 1990: 8-9). Following his discovery and subsequent escape in “The Gift of the Emperor”, Raffles spends two years in Italy, where he works as a “tame sailorman and emergency bottle-washer” on a beautiful small island (Hornung 2013: 144). During his time there, he falls in love with a young peasant woman named Faustina. Relating the events to Bunny years later, Raffles evokes the biblical concept of paradise when describing their romance: “[…] it was the oldest story in literature – Eden plus Eve. The place had been a heaven on earth before, but now it was heaven itself.” (Hornung 2013: 147). According to Raffles, Faustina was the only woman he ever seriously considered marrying: “I tell you that she was the one being who ever entirely satisfied my sense of beauty; and I honestly believe I could have chucked the world and been true to Faustina for that alone.” (Hornung 2013: 146). The focus on her physical attractiveness reveals Raffles’ traditional views on women: far from admiring her character or her intellect, Raffles instead merely loves Faustina for her beauty5.
However, the bucolic idyll envisioned by Raffles for Faustina and himself is soon disrupted. When her fiancé, having learned about Faustina’s affair with Raffles, kills her, Raffles in turn shoots Faustina’s murderer and ends up nearly killing the owner of the vineyard, Count Corbucci, who is an eminent member of the Camorra (Rowland 1999: 124). The destruction of Raffles’ version of paradise is answered by him with the enactment of biblical vengeance: “I had taken blood for blood […].” (Hornung 2013: 153).
Ultimately, “The Fate of Faustina” establishes that the ideal of the ‘natural’ moral virtue and submissiveness of women was not only challenged by the middle-class concept of the New Woman, but by a general shift in female identity that pervaded all classes (Powell 1996: 96-97). The portrayal of the working-class Faustina as sweet and innocent is soon revealed to be unfounded. Her willingness to enter into a relationship with Raffles even though she is engaged to another man reveals her to be just as sexually transgressive as Jacques Saillard. Faustina also exhibits an enthusiasm towards violence: “[…] I taught her how to use [a revolver] in the cave down there by the sea, shooting at candles stuck upon the rock. […] So now Faustina was armed with munitions of self-defence, and I knew enough of her character to entertain no doubt as to their spirited use upon occasion.” (Hornung 2013: 149; emphasis added)6. Even though her beauty is praised by Raffles as surpassing that of all the women in London7, her unwomanly interest in guns and her adulterous behaviour ultimately disqualify Faustina as an example of traditional femininity.
Bunny’s fiancée
The three stories discussed so far have approached the New Woman ideal as a direct threat to masculinity and tried to exorcise it by connecting it to foreignness and/or violence. Contrary to this outright rejection of new concepts of femininity that is present in both The Amateur Cracksman and The Black Mask, the two later volumes of Raffles stories paint a more complex picture of femininity at the turn of the century. A Thief in the Night introduces Bunny’s fiancée to the reader, while Mr. Justice Raffles marks the first (and last) appearance of Camilla Belsize, who is arguably the most affirmative representation of New Woman ideals in the Raffles stories.
Bunny’s fiancée first appears in “Out of Paradise”. The reason why she remains unnamed is given by Bunny at the beginning of this story: “The affair was not only too intimately mine […]. One other was involved in it, one dearer to me than Raffles himself, one whose name shall not even now be sullied by association with ours.” (Hornung 2013: 234)8. The story establishes that, even before Raffles manipulated Bunny into burgling his fiancée’s home, their engagement was already laden with problems. Bunny’s fiancée is an orphan with no inherited fortune, which makes her financially dependent on her uncle, Hector Carruthers (Hornung 2013: 235). As Bunny also has no regular income at his disposal – apart from what little he earns as a journalist and writer9 – they are both dependent on Mr. Carruthers to facilitate their marriage by providing his niece with a significant enough dowry (Morrissey 2014: <http://www.rafflesredux.com/out-of-paradise/>). However, Mr. Carruthers strongly disapproves of Bunny, which is why he restricts his access to his niece and refuses to give his consent to their engagement (Hornung 2013: 234). When Bunny’s fiancée catches him in the act of burgling her uncle’s house, their engagement receives its final blow. Her first reaction on recognising Bunny as the burglar is to faint (Hornung 2013: 242). Soon afterwards, however, she helps Bunny escape safely from her house (Hornung 2013: 243) and subsequently conceals his criminal identity from both her family and the police (Hornung 2013: 246).
While “Out of Paradise” had established Bunny’s fiancée as a dependent woman who was not allowed to make major decisions without consulting her uncle, “The Last Word” shows that this has changed. Set nine years after “Out of Paradise”, the story is unique in that it mainly consists of a letter written to Bunny by his former fiancée (Hornung 2013: 362-366). This makes her the only woman in the Raffles stories who is allowed to directly speak to the reader with her own voice. Her letter reveals that she has since inherited a considerable amount of money from her aunt, Lady Melrose10, which has enabled her to move into a small flat of her own: “[…] I am living my own life now in the one way after my own heart.” (Hornung 2013: 365). Her financial independence also means the end of her uncle’s legal guardianship over her; free now to make her own decisions, she intends to follow in Bunny’s footsteps by becoming a writer (Hornung 2013: 365).
Contrary to Amy Werner and Jacques Saillard, Bunny’s fiancée overall adheres to the social conventions of her time. Instead of defying her uncle and marrying Bunny without his consent, she submits herself to his will. However, as she is still unmarried nine years after the events of “Out of Paradise”, it is not unreasonable to assume that she resisted her uncle’s attempts to find a more suitable husband for her. “The Last Word” portrays her as a young unmarried woman who is eager to participate in the public domain through her writing (be it journalism or fiction) (Hornung 2013: 365). With this, she becomes representative of the many unmarried middle-class women who entered the professions around the turn of the century (Powell 1996: 70). While Bunny’s fiancée is thus not a representation of the New Woman per se, she does embody the gradual opening of the public domain towards women at the turn of the century.
Camilla Belsize
Finally, Mr. Justice Raffles (1909) features the most rounded and the most sympathetic realisation of a New Woman character in the Raffles stories. Miss Camilla Belsize is introduced to the reader as the fiancée of Teddy Garland, an amateur cricketer who is friends with Raffles. She is also the daughter of the impoverished Lady Laura Belsize, which places her in the social context of the genteelly poor (Purchase 2006: 23)11. Despite her limited financial means, Camilla Belsize is invariably well-dressed. Bunny admires her distinguished taste when he first meets her: “She was simply but exquisitely dressed, with unostentatious touches of Cambridge blue and a picture hat that really was a picture.” (Hornung 2013: 404). More significantly, the novel establishes her as a highly intelligent woman. Early on, Bunny comments on her unusual perceptiveness: “But I was to discover that Camilla Belsize was never easily deceived […].” (Hornung 2013: 406). In fact, Camilla is one of only a few people in the Raffles stories who manage to see through Raffles’ disguises: “He didn’t know I recognised him; he was disguised – absolutely! […] But he couldn’t disguise himself from me […].” (Hornung 2013: 499). At the same time, Camilla is revealed to be quite audacious. During her first conversation with Bunny, Camilla admits to smoking cigarettes in public (Hornung 2013: 407) – a habit that was closely associated with New Women at the time (Ledger 2007: 155). Even more daringly, Camilla repeatedly follows Raffles and Bunny by steering a canoe along the river in the middle of the night. She reveals this to Bunny in a later conversation:
‘I told you I sometimes did weird things that astonished the natives of these suburban shores. Well, last night, if it wasn’t early this morning, I made my weirdest effort yet. I have a canoe, you know; just now I almost live in it. Last night I went out unbeknownst after midnight, partly to reassure myself, partly – […] You know what I’m going to say?’
Of course I knew, but I dragged it from her none the less. […] She had seen us – searched for us – each time. (Hornung 2013: 500)
Camilla reveals here that she is aware of the potentially shocking nature of her nocturnal ventures. At the same time, her ability to steer a boat by herself hints towards her athletic disposition and towards a possible previous training at a women’s college12.
Bunny and Raffles both express their admiration for Camilla Belsize, albeit in different ways. While Bunny openly admits that he became her “admirer on the spot” when she smiled at him during their first conversation (Hornung 2013: 403), Raffles’ demonstration of his respect for her is much more convoluted. Raffles spends the majority of the novel battling Dan Levy, a Jewish moneylender that both Teddy Garland and his father are in considerable debt to (Hornung 2013: 415-416). In the end, Raffles’ scheme proves successful and Teddy’s and his father’s debts are fully dispensed with. The penultimate chapter of the novel reveals Raffles’ true motivation for helping Teddy. In a conversation with Bunny, Raffles expresses his doubts that Teddy’s marriage with Camilla will be a happy one. When Bunny asks why, Raffles answers that he thinks Teddy to be beneath her: “[Gambling and running up debts] was all right in a pal of ours, Bunny, but all wrong in the man who dreamt of marrying Camilla Belsize.” (Hornung 2013: 507).
Far from denouncing Camilla’s audacity and intelligence, the novel hails her as a supreme representative of her sex. This is exemplified in Bunny’s remark to Raffles: “She was the only woman I ever met […] who was your mate at heart – in pluck – in temperament!” (Hornung 2013: 507). And yet, even Camilla Belsize isn’t allowed to freely pursue her romantic and sexual desires. The novel clearly establishes that both Camilla and Raffles are attracted to each other (Hornung 2013: 507), yet Camilla Belsize still ends up marrying Teddy Garland, who has been established as being morally inferior to her. In the last chapter, which is set ten years after the main narrative, Camilla does not appear at all, and when Bunny and Teddy refer to her, it is only in the form of “Mrs. Garland” (Hornung 2013: 516). Thus, the novel ultimately upholds the patriarchal ideal of society that New Women tried to work against: by marrying Teddy Garland, Camilla’s identity as a free-spirited young woman has been subsumed by that of a domestic wife, and she is no longer a person of her own.
Footnotes:
1This was obviously not true for working-class women, who were often required to supplement their husband’s wage with one of their own (Poovey 1995: 124-125).
2At this point in the story, Jacques Saillard doesn’t know yet that it is Raffles who has broken into her home.
3Saillard’s artistic success is illustrated by Raffles’ evaluation of her room: “See the festive picture over the sideboard? Looks to me like a Jacques Saillard. But that silver-table would be good enough for me.” (Hornung 2013: 189). What Raffles implies here is that her paintings are valuable enough to fetch a good price on the black market.
4The fact that Bunny doesn’t comment on Raffles’ adulterous behaviour also reveals the double standard inherent in the Victorian perception of sexual virtue (Ledger 2007: 157).
5Raffles’ claim that perfect beauty would be the only thing that could possibly induce him to marry someone is yet another example of his “streak of aestheticism” (Hornung 2013: 6).
6The story reveals its racist undertones here, as Faustina’s readiness to practice shooting is explained by Raffles with her “racial tolerance for cold steel” (Hornung 2013: 247).
7“It was the most exquisite face I ever saw or shall see in this life. […] I tell you, Bunny, London would go mad about a girl like that.” (Hornung 2013: 146).
8The omission of his fiancée’s name is another example of Bunny’s narrative control.
9Shortly after Bunny and Raffles have become partners in crime, Bunny picks up journalism as a cover profession (Hornung 2013: 96).
10This is the very same Lady Melrose whose necklace Raffles steals in “Gentlemen and Players” (Hornung 2013: 365).
11Bunny’s description of the Belsizes’ home in chapter 17 reveals their financial straits: “The wooden gate had not swung home behind me before I was at the top of a somewhat dirty flight of steps, contemplating blistered paint and ground glass fit for a bathroom window, and listening to the last reverberations of an obsolete type of bell.” (Hornung 2013: 496; emphasis added).
12This women’s college would probably have been at Cambridge, as those were among the first colleges that introduced rowing as part of their curriculum (Holt 1992: 121).
Works cited:
Brooks, David. The Age of Upheaval: Edwardian Politics, 1899-1914. New Frontiers in History. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1995.
Dowling, Linda. “The Decadent and the New Woman in the 1890s.” Nineteenth- Century Fiction, 33.4 (1979): 434-453.
Freeman, Nick. “Double Lives, Terrible Pleasures: Oscar Wilde and Crime Fiction in the Fin de Siècle.” Formal Investigations: Aesthetic Style in Late-Victorian and Edwardian Detective Fiction. Ed. Paul Fox and Koray Melikoğlu. Studies in English Literature 4. Stuttgart: ibidem, 2007. 71-96.
Godfrey, Emelyne. Masculinity, Crime and Self-Defence in Victorian Literature. Crime Files. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011.
Holt, Richard. Sport and the British: A Modern History. 1989. Oxford: Clarendon, 1992.
Horn, Pamela. High Society: The English Social Élite, 1880-1914. Stroud: Sutton, 1992.
Hornung, E.W. A.J. Raffles – The Gentleman Thief Series: The Amateur Cracksman; The Black Mask; A Thief in the Night; Mr. Justice Raffles. Leipzig: Amazon Distribution GmbH, 2013.
Ledger, Sally. “The New Woman and feminist fictions.” The Cambridge Companion to the Fin de Siècle. Ed. Gail Marshall. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007. 153-168.
Marcus, Sharon. “Sexuality.” The Cambridge History of Victorian Literature. Ed. Kate Flint. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012. 422-443.
Miller, Jane Eldridge. Rebel Women: Feminism, Modernism and the Edwardian Novel. London: Virago Press, 1994.
Moran, Maureen. Victorian Literature and Culture. Introductions to British Literature and Culture. London: Continuum, 2006.
Morgan, Simon. A Victorian Woman’s Place: Public Culture in the Nineteenth Century. International Library of Historical Studies 40. London: Tauris Academic Studies, 2007.
Morrissey, Genevieve L., and Sarah Morrissey. Raffles Redux. 2014. 16 January 2016. <http://www.rafflesredux.com/>.
Poovey, Mary. Making a Social Body: British Cultural Formation, 1830-1864. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1995.
Powell, David. The Edwardian Crisis: Britain 1901-1914. British History in Perspective. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 1996.
Purchase, Sean. Key Concepts in Victorian Literature. Palgrave Key Concepts. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006.
Rance, Nick. “The Immorally Rich and the Richly Immoral: Raffles and the Plutocracy.” Twentieth-Century Suspense: The Thriller Comes of Age. Ed. Clive Bloom. Insights. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 1990. 1-21.
Rowland, Peter. Raffles and His Creator: The Life and Works of E.W. Hornung. London: Nekta, 1999.
Showalter, Elaine. Sexual Anarchy: Gender and Culture at the Fin de Siècle. London: Bloomsbury Publishing, 1991.
Sinfield, Alan. The Wilde Century: Effeminacy, Oscar Wilde and the Queer Moment. London: Cassell, 1994.
I have a vague feeling Jacques Saillard could as well be written based on George Sand, I can't be sure.
I swear when I revisited An Old Flame, I can be sure Jacques Salliard is definitely a fictional version of George Sand.
Keep in mind of what George Sand did:
She may or may not be NB, because before she submitted her first novels she was wearing dresses, she wears men clothes just to get her works published - although when she went famous everyone knows who she was - even if those so called respectful judged that.
So you know Jacques Saillard might as well dress in men suits dated Raffles.
Perhaps not the greatest female characters from Raffles books but the mere resemblance compared to George Sand from Jacques Saillard simply fascinated me. (although I must protest towards Raffles Redux note bc her relationship with Chopin in later years was rather non-physical, and she already divorced her husband many years ago - for which was in every way unconventional for her time. Only man she abandoned for another man was Alfred de Musset, not Chopin. But the notion that Saillard wants to “nurse” Raffles back to life just screams “George Sand” to me as well)






