Women and Femininity Quotes - The Portrait of a Lady | The Portrait of a Lady -Summary, Themes & Characters - Novels PDF Download

"The ladies will save us," said the old man; "that is the best of them will – for I make a difference between them. Make up to a good one and marry her, and your life will become much more interesting." (1.11)

Mr. Touchett puts a lot of stock in the ability of women to improve society – at least, the so-called "good" ones.

Lord Warburton was left standing with Ralph Touchett, to whom in a moment he said: "you wished a while ago to see my idea of an interesting woman. There it is!" (2.20)

Isabel’s originality and fascinating qualities are instantly appreciated by all three men; there’s something about her that really catches the eye.

"You apparently have a great passion for knowledge," her cousin returned.

"I think I have; most girls are horridly ignorant."

"You strike me as different from most girls." (5.16)

Ralph and Isabel both seem to acknowledge the fact that Isabel is a superior creature, and is head and shoulders above most other girls.

She was intelligent and generous; it was a fine free nature; but what was she going to do with herself? This question was irregular, for with most women one had no occasion to ask it. Most women did with themselves nothing at all; they waited, in attitudes more or less gracefully passive, for a man to come that way and furnish them with a destiny. Isabel's originality was that she gave one an impression of having intentions of her own. "Whenever she executes them," said Ralph, "may I be there to see!" (7.6)

This view of women in general is rather dismal; Ralph assumes that most of them aren’t as interesting or intelligent as Isabel, and that they simply wait for men to come along and structure their lives. Isabel, however, is a kind of advanced-model woman, who doesn’t need this external assistance.

"Shall I love her or shall I hate her?" Ralph asked while they moved along the platform. 

"Whichever you do will matter very little to her," said Isabel. "She doesn't care a straw what men think of her." (10.2)

Huh – the idea of a woman that doesn’t care about male opinions is something of a novelty and a challenge, since even Isabel cares what men think about her.

"A woman perhaps can get on; a woman, it seems to me, has no natural place anywhere; wherever she finds herself she has to remain on the surface and, more or less, to crawl. You protest, my dear? you're horrified? you declare you'll never crawl? It's very true that I don't see you crawling; you stand more upright than a good many poor creatures. Very good; on the whole, I don't think you'll crawl." (19.12)

Madame Merle takes quite a cynical view of woman’s role in the world, but admits that Isabel, unlike her sisters, is unlikely to give in to the belittling demands of the world. OK, we get it, we get it – Isabel is superior to all the other women out there.

"I'm glad they've taught you to obey," said Madame Merle. "That's what good little girls should do." 

"Oh yes, I obey very well," cried Pansy with soft eagerness, almost with boastfulness, as if she had been speaking of her piano-playing. And then she gave a faint, just audible sigh. (22.27)

Pansy’s obedience is something she’s proud of – but, at the same time, she’s not entirely happy about it.

Isabel had never seen a little person of this pattern; American girls were very different – different too were the maidens of England. Pansy was so formed and finished for her tiny place in the world, and yet in imagination, as one could see, so innocent and infantine. She sat on the sofa by Isabel; she wore a small grenadine mantle and a pair of the useful gloves that Madame Merle had given her – little grey gloves with a single button. She was like a sheet of blank paper – the ideal jeune fille [young girl] of foreign fiction. Isabel hoped that so fair and smooth a page would be covered with an edifying text. (26.7)

Pansy is, as her name implies, a carefully cultivated, tender little flower. She doesn’t seem to come from any real place in the world, and Isabel can only think of her as a character in a French novel. There’s something otherworldly about her.

It struck her second visitor that Miss Archer had, in operatic conditions, a radiance, even a slight exaltation; as she was, however, at all times a keenly-glancing, quickly-moving, completely animated young woman, he may have been mistaken on this point. Her talk with him moreover pointed to presence of mind; it expressed a kindness so ingenious and deliberate as to indicate that she was in undisturbed possession of her faculties. Poor Lord Warburton had moments of bewilderment. She had discouraged him, formally, as much as a woman could; what business had she then with such arts and such felicities, above all with such tones of reparation--preparation? Her voice had tricks of sweetness, but why play them on him? (28.3)

Unfortunate Lord Warburton. The poor guy is still head-over-heels in love with Isabel, and seeing her charming feminine wiles just confuses him. She can’t control how appealing she is; she’s just trying to be nice, but he thinks that she might be playing tricks on him.

"One’s daughter should be fresh and fair; she should be innocent and gentle. With the manners of the present time she is liable to become so dusty and crumpled. Pansy’s a little dusty, a little dishevelled; she has knocked about too much." (50.17)

Osmond sees Pansy as an object – a precious one, for sure, but an object nonetheless, which is how he sees all women. He wishes to preserve her in an ideal stage of purity and suspended reality, which, in the long run, is impossible.

"Papa wished me to think a little – and I've thought a great deal." 

"What have you thought?" 

"Well, that I must never displease papa." 

"You knew that before." 

"Yes; but I know it better. I'll do anything – I'll do anything," said Pansy. Then, as she heard her own words, a deep, pure blush came into her face. Isabel read the meaning of it; she saw the poor girl had been vanquished. (52.17)

Pansy’s thoughts, desires, and individual identity have all been overcome by the force of her father’s personality and his demands. She has become a pitiable caricature of the obedient woman.