I just love a drawing room play, and W. Somerset Maugham’s The Constant Wife offers all of the froth, ambiguity and sly humour that you would expect.
The story is relatively simple – Constance Middleton’s friends are aware that her husband, John, is having an affair with her best friend, Marie-Louise. The friends are busting to tell Constance but despite their broad hints, she is seemingly oblivious. Seemingly… actually, Constance has her own approach to extra-marital activity, and as John talks himself into a corner, it seems Constance is not quite in the precarious position her friends thought.
“Oh, my dear, you mustn’t be offended just because I’ve taken away from you the satisfaction of thinking that you have been deceiving me all these months.”
The play was written in 1926, and I can only imagine that some of the themes challenged social norms, particularly around women working and financial independence. But the real joy in this play is the initial presentation of the understanding that in the case of infidelity, women must ‘turn a blind eye’ because ‘men can’t control themselves’. This understanding is promptly turned on its head – Constance looks after all aspects of her life very well and gets everything that she wants, while maintaining the facade of being a ‘constant’ wife.
“They’re like little boys, men. Sometimes of course they’re rather naughty and you have to pretend to be angry with them. They attach so much importance to such entirely unimportant things that it’s really touching. And they’re so helpless. Have you never nursed a man when he’s ill? It wrings your heart. It’s just like a dog or a horse. They haven’t got the sense to come in out of the rain, poor darlings. They have all the charming qualities that accompany general incompetence. They’re sweet and good and silly, and tiresome and selfish. You can’t help liking them, they’re so ingenuous, and so simple. They have no complexity or finesse. I think they’re sweet, but it’s absurd to take them seriously.”
The main question we ask about the books we read for Literary Wives is: What does this book say about wives or about the experience of being a wife?
The literary wives question often leads to an examination of power and unsurprisingly, that power is rarely in favour of the wife. The Constant Wife examines power through the lens of fidelity (or in this case, infidelity) and it is Constance, with her insight and wiles, that comes out as the one in control (I’m even reluctant to use the word ‘wiles’ – it implies female cunning in a negative way). The story challenges gender double-standards, particularly in terms of what women were told was expected of them versus what they were told was expected of their husbands. But as Constance outwits John (and he doesn’t realise), I might have whooped 😀 I would love to see this play performed.
See Rebecca’s, Kay’s, Naomi’s and Becky’s reviews, too. And if you want to join in, our next book (September) is Novel about My Wife by Emily Perkins.
4/5
There is only one freedom that is really important and that is economic freedom. Well, I have it! And upon my soul, it is the most enjoyable sensation I can remember since I ate my first strawberry ice!
I can imagine there would be a lot of hissing going on at certain lines if the play were performed today!
I would also love to see this performed. The sad thing is, I’m sure those double-standards still exist, even if they aren’t as socially acceptable as they were then. It would be interesting to see what a modern version of the play might look like.
Because of when it was written, I was actually surprised by Constance’s plan – I loved it!
I love this idea – I think played now I’m not sure how it would land but a modern day version of it is an interesting idea.
This sounds great! I don’t know this play at all, I’m definitely going to read it and look out for a performance.
This is my first literary wives book club experience and so I am quite taken by your reflection that the question often leads to an examination of power. I’m going to have to sit with that. In this plays case, I think that Constance does turn the dynamic on its head and take control of their relationship in a way that likely quite progressive for the time. That’s how the social justice path often unfolds – incrementally, bit by bit, attitude by attitude, generation by generation. With of course some major leaps along the way. It was satisfying seeing Constance claim her own life’s path in a way, but at the same time as someone reading it now I still couldn’t help but see the borders that still framed her new found independence.
I have enjoyed following Literary Wives over a long period and generally use Naomi’s pieces to reflect on my own experience(s) of marriage. But I’m not sure I can say anything in this case that would not be too close to the bone. It was a good choice though.
You’ve encapsulated the plot and themes so much better than in my ramblings 🙂 I imagine audiences at the time wouldn’t have welcomed Constance as a feminist heroine in quite the way we do.