Is Vita and Virginia good for women's history?
Gemma Arterton has been the main reason I’ve recommended Vita and Virginia since first watching, not just because of the death grip she has had on me since St Trinian’s, but rather because she has the rare quality of being able to depict female queer experiences in a relatable and convincing way. (If you haven’t watched the film, or Summerland, another queer period drama starring Arterton, go and watch them now). It wasn’t until I rewatched the film for the purposes of this article that I noticed just how well Elizabeth Debicki portrays female queerness. In fact, the subtleties of Debicki’s Virginia, as opposed to Arterton’s Vita make for, in my opinion, a more convincing narrative of female queerness.
Vita and Virginia is a film, adapted from a play, which is in turn based on the love letters of authors Vita Sackville-West and Virginia Woolf. You might be wondering, if it’s a historical-fiction film based on a sapphic relationship, surely you’re not asking ‘Is this good for women’s history?’? Well, actually, yes. The narrative doesn’t simply depict that a homoerotic relationship happened between the two women. It also feeds into a narrative that queer, in particular bisexual women are either sexually promiscuous, or mentally unstable. That’s not to say that these women weren’t these things, Vita, as we will explore, was certainly sexually promiscuous, and to say that Virginia wasn’t mentally unstable would be an oversight of a lifetime. My criticism of this depiction isn’t that these women weren’t promiscuous and mentally unwell. However, Vita wasn’t simply a woman who fell in love quickly and dramatically, and Virginia wasn’t just a woman who paced the floor waiting for Vita. To skip ahead, whilst this film is not bad for women’s history, there are ways it could better represent and advocate for both queer women’s history and women’s literary history.
N.b. as well as homoerotic scandal, sexuality, and identity, this article will also reference Woolf’s mental health (who is suspected to have had bipolar disorder). Virginia Woolf died by suicide in 1941, and some aspects of the film are hard to watch. There will be specific trigger warnings prior to discussions of these scenes. Please feel free not to read these parts if you may be affected by them.
Accuracy
Virginia Woolf is an author who needs little introduction. Born to a middle-class family in South Kensington, she married a friend of her brother, Leonard Woolf, to whom she reportedly had no attraction to at the start of their marriage. Despite this, the Woolfs were, as they appear in the film, reliant on each other emotionally and professionally. Together with contemporaries including Nessa and Clive Bell, (Virginia’s sister and brother-in-law) the Woolfs helped form the ‘Bloomsbury Group’ (basically your intellectually elite, sexually liberal, potential revolutionaries) and co-founded The Hogarth Press, an oft struggling publishing house which was, much to Virginia’s chagrin, saved from ruin by Vita’s work. Virginia was of course also the author of works such as Mrs Dalloway, A Room of One’s Own, and Orlando, a semi-biographical novelisation about none other than Vita Sackville-West. Recent work concerning Virginia Woolf often cites her relationship with Vita Sackville-West as the trigger to her most successful literary period. Personally, I think this is hyperbolic. The work written throughout and after the relationship the women shared was exemplary, this much is true. But assigning Virginia's success to Vita's influence would not pass by feminists if Vita were a man, hence her literary talent is not attributed to her husband, despite his influence on the author.
The film spends more time on the typically Sapphic life of Vita Sackville-West. Despite being the only child of the third Baron Sackville and his cousin-wife, Vita was barred from inheriting her father’s estate and title, because, well, she was a girl. This was a point of lifelong contention, and some have (inaccurately) suggested that this contributed to her relationships with women. If there is evidence in Vita’s childhood of her sexual leanings, it is in what she would later describe as being psychologically “divided in two”: one side being feminine, soft, submissive, and attracted to men, the other masculine, hard, aggressive, and attracted to women. Her granddaughter, Juliet, has said that “From the age of 12, Vita was sure she was gay… She would play in a khaki uniform then come in and put on her silks and pearls.” Perhaps we could best describe Vita Sackville-West as suffering with compulsory-heterosexuality?
Both her parents had lovers throughout her childhood, whom Vita was not only aware of, but partially raised by. For example, her fluency in French was largely thanks to the time spent in the Parisian home of Sir John Murray-Scott, her mother’s lover. Whilst her father’s mistress, an opera singer, lived with the family at Knole. Vita seems to have continued this informal familiarity with love and sex as she grew up, embarking on several affairs throughout her teenage years, early adulthood and indeed her marriage. For example, by the time of her formal society debut in 1910, she had a sexual relationship with Rosamund Grosvenor and a perpetually chaotic love affair with Violet Keppel, later Trefusis, the daughter of Alice Keppel, mistress to Edward VII. Vita and Violet met at Helen Wolff’s school for girls with their sexual relationship starting in their teen years and continuing for much of their adult lives.
Vita married Harold Nicholson in 1913, after what she described as a “completely chaste” courtship . The pair immediately embarked on an open marriage, with both Vita and Harold enjoying same-sex relationships. Vita had secured herself a double bearded marriage. Each gave the other liberty to pursue the love and freedom they wanted, however, they were also aware of their marital duties as upper-class, and they dutifully had two children, Benedict, born in 1914 and Nigel, in 1917. Vita would also begrudgingly fulfil her duties as a diplomat’s wife when she absolutely needed to.
Now you might be wondering, so, what was Vita? Gay, Bi? Straight up confused? If you Google ‘Was Vita Sackville-West gay?’, you’ll find several articles about the ‘fabulous forgotten history of Vita Sackville West,’ her lesbianism, relationship with Virginia, and her and her husband’s astounding gayness. Not to burst the bubble, but to quote Nick Nelson in Heartstopper. “I’m bisexual, actually.” Both Vita and Harold had relationships with men and women, they both, shockingly, seem to have genuinely loved each other and had sex at least three times (they had a third stillborn son) so if we must label them (something I try not to do) then bisexual definitely appears to be the more fitting terminology here.
It’s worth mentioning here that bisexuality and historical study is a tricky subject, largely because historians don’t seem to be fully aware that attraction to more than one gender is a possibility. There is also a justified reluctance to label historical figures with twenty-first century awareness, but that's a different discussion.
To turn to the drama of Violet Keppel… Vita and Violet had been in a sort of exclusive ‘lesbian’ relationship since their teens, this came to a crashing halt when Violet, depressed and abandoned by Vita since her marriage, agreed to an arranged marriage to Denys Trefusis. Vita, as the irrational woman that she was, made Violet promise to never have sex with her husband during a trip to France in 1918. Violet in turn forced Denys to this sexless marriage as a caveat of her agreement, and in 1919 they married. Shortly afterwards, Vita and Violet ran off to France, but Violet was swiftly retrieved by her husband. In February 1920 when they ran off again, news of the drama reached London almost immediately, in desperation, both husbands followed the couple in a two-seater aeroplane and dragged the women back to England and to their marriages.
Later that year, Harold told Vita that Violet had broken her promise and slept with Denys. Violet attempted to keep her hold on Vita with love letters throughout the year, and in 1921 Vita eloped with her again, being called back by Harold’s threats to break off their marriage (and likely restrict her from her sons). Vita returned to England, and Violet to Italy.
This characteristic Sapphic-drama is the immediate pretext to the opening of the film, in which Vita, freshly returned to England, now wants to focus on her legitimacy as a writer, gain access to the elite ‘Bloomsbury Group’, and is absolutely fascinated by the elusive figure that is Virginia Woolf. The film opens with cut scenes of Harold and Vita giving a radio interview about their successful marriage, Vita’s mother threatening to remove her sons from her custody, Vita herself arriving at a party hosted in Bloomsbury, gazing in awe at Virginia dancing, and then pursuing both Virginia and a place for her own novels within The Hogarth Press.
The film is largely told from Vita’s perspective and is based on the letters exchanged between Vita and Virginia from 1922-1928. Broadly speaking, the screenplay does a fair job of depicting their complex romance, its strengths lying in Arterton’s depiction of Vita as somewhat self-obsessed, whilst simultaneously disparaging of her talents as a writer, especially in comparison to Virginia. As you watch, you find yourself struggling to believe Vita’s genuine feelings. Is she using Virginia for access to the Press? Yet the viewer also understands that Vita’s published works are far more successful than that of Virginia’s, or indeed of The Hogarth Press in its entirety. The publishing of her work would boost the company’s reputation. Virginia and her husband are wary of Vita and her work, its popularity and how she fits into their world.
Debicki, as Virginia, presents as frantic, confused, and socially freer than Vita. She does not share a desire to have wildly popular novels, though there is a recognition that slightly more successful publications would be financially beneficial. She is also conflicted by Vita’s person, does she follow her blindly, or does she stay where she is safe, in her apparently loveless marriage? Throughout the film, Virginia is in a state of queer confusion and obsession, and Vita pursues her with the same rigour and brief infatuation as she did her previous lovers, with little understanding of Virginia’s unstable personality. This is a clear case of obsession and control.
Vita eventually loses interest, and stops replying to Virginia’s letters, demonstrating her lack of understanding of the complexities of Virginia’s mental health. This is furthered by the scene which sees Vita bring another woman to Nessa’s art show. Virginia spirals, and the audience can understand her staring into the choppy water as a foreshadowing of her eventual suicide in the River Ouse. The obsessive writing of Orlando in the following scenes depicts both a manic episode of Virginia’s bipolar, and Vita’s malignant narcissism; as Virginia produces a novel based on the split lives, loves, masculinity and femininity of Vita Sackville-West, who then returns to Virginia, flattered by the attention. This appears to be a fairly accurate depiction of the development of their relationship in 1927-1928.
It’s worth mentioning that much of the film is fictionalised and although based on letters and other primary sources, there is only so far a dramatisation can go in terms of accuracy. However, there are several moments which are interspersed throughout the film which assist the story's legitimacy. These include on Vita’s side: references to Violet and Vita’s elopements, Vita and Harold’s open marriage and her reluctance to partake in her duties as a diplomat’s wife, mention of their Garden Design at Sissinghurst, and Vita’s mother’s threats to remove the children from her custody due to Vita’s promiscuity. On Virginia’s side of events, notable accuracy comes in the form of the co-dependence of her marriage, the informality of the ‘Bloomsbury Group’, in particular their views on sexuality, medical advice which actually made her symptoms worse, and the literary creativity that Vita inspired in her.
Sensitivity (TW: mention of sexual assault, s*lf-h*rm, and s*icide)
It feels more fitting to discuss the intricacies of their sexual relationship and Virginia’s mental health through a critical lens aiming at sensitivity rather than accuracy. Virginia Woolf’s sexual encounters were not as free and positively queer as Vita Sackville-West’s. In childhood, Virginia had been molested by her older half-brother Gerald Duckworth at six years-old. Virginia’s biographers believe that it was these experiences which led to her life-long fear of sexual relationships and masculinity, the abuse by her half-brother(s) and potentially also by her cousin is described by Virginia as being a consistent feature of her childhood, and has been discussed by Hermione Lee and Lyndall Gordon as fundamental to her character. These experiences would have undeniably had an impact on Virginia’s already precarious mental health, and can be used to understand her codependency and obsession both with her husband and Vita. The scenes depicting the Sapphic couple’s sexual relationship suggest that this was the first time Virginia enjoyed sex. Considering her writing of her relationship with Leonard this may be a slight exaggeration, however, there is a sense that with Vita, Virginia found fulfilment in her sexuality that had been hitherto repressed. Even if dramatised for the purposes of the film.
The film faces the common difficulty of how to depict Virginia’s health without buying into the narrative of the hysterical woman. Historians and psychologists have suggested that Virginia had bipolar disorder, characterised by periods of intense depression and elevated moods, sometimes known as mania. During these periods of mania the individual will rarely sleep and often have increased anxiety, sometimes hallucinations, all of which are portrayed in the film. Several scenes allude to Virginia’s eventual suicide and this is particularly notable when Virginia is briefly suspected to have gone into the water after her sister’s art opening. This small but meaningful moment directly depicts Virginia’s inability to understand her own emotions (the viewer can understand her heartbreak over Vita more clearly than herself). This is followed by the writing process of Orlando, which arguably poses as a manifestation of Virginia’s mania concerning Vita, subsequently encouraged by Vita’s typified narcissism. Orlando is a love letter, featuring Vita as an English Noble named Orlando spanning multiple centuries and genders. Relationships such as that with Violet Keppel and Virginia are both featured throughout the narrative and the title character is an enigma to the very end. The novel is a complex biography of a complex individual, it continues to divide opinion of if you are meant to like Orlando or not, and thus, of Virginia’s true feelings towards her. Perhaps the best adjective would be obsession.
On some levels, the pair seem to have shared a good understanding of the other, but their relationship feels unequal. Virginia’s love for Vita appears genuine, if obsessive. Vita’s love, on the other hand, is self-concerned, regarding the improvement of her own writing, engagement with the literary community she craves and, in some ways, about the power she could hold over her lovers. So, is this a fair representation? Of the women individually, it does feel fair, and in Virginia’s case in particular, sensitive; you can’t help but be struck by the constant expression of confusion, mild panic and anxiety that Debicki has. Arterton’s Vita is harsher, and less sympathetic. As a couple they aren’t greatly convincing, there is perhaps too much attention paid to their respective marriages, to feel as if they could have really had the impact on each other’s lives and literary careers that they did.
Entertainment
Like all historical-fiction, the point is to be entertaining before it is to be accurate. Which is why I hasten to add that although based on their letters, this film is not entirely accurate to the women it characterises and it can only speculate the gaps in the evidence. Regarding entertainment, the film is generally an enjoyable one. It is occasionally slow, and unless you know about Virginia’s experiences and Vita’s relationships, several of the references might go over your head. If you do understand these, however, they add to the entertainment brilliantly. Overall, Vita and Virginia is a film which aims to depict an adulterous Sapphic relationship without being vulgar. For all the words to describe this film, vulgarity is not one of them. Vita and Virginia manages to make a scandalous series of events natural and enjoyable to watch.
A stand out feature must be the wardrobe and set design. In particular, Vita’s silhouettes often depict the duality of how she considered her identity; split between the masculine, represented in clean tailored cuts intended to make Arterton appear taller than she is and dominant, and the feminine, shown in accessories, and glamourous make-up. She directly contrasts with the simpler femininity of the other women throughout the film, who wear more delicate, draped fabrics. Virginia’s wardrobe articulates her mental state and her lower social class. The fabrics for her outfits are noticeably lesser quality and the silhouettes are designed to be dishevelled. Often, her hair and makeup are used to present her worsening depression with great effect. Vita and Virginia are presented as flawed women and despite both being pretty unlikeable, they are easy to care for.
Feminism
The question of feminism when discussing Vita Sackville-West and Virginia Woolf is an interesting one. Each are distinctly unique women, both shaped by their sex, identity, and experiences with men. Vita’s story, her sexual liberty, bearded relationship, and success in her professional and personal life is perhaps easier to depict as feminist in modern work. Her internal struggle regarding her sex and her inheritance as well as her determination to maintain her liberty and gain respect among her peers is admirable and relatable. Where she struggles against a recognisable patriarchal background, she gains sympathy and understanding. The modern audience enjoys a strong, independent woman. Virginia’s more tragic story, largely shaped by men, has often been subject to a feminist lens in an attempt to reclaim her story to fit modern definitions of gender, equality and sexuality. This film doesn’t really follow this pattern, and it is easy to forget that the Virginia on our screen was the wild, anarchical writer. It is Virginia’s, not Vita’s work which remains at the forefront of feminist literature. Vita and Virginia presents a narrative that Vita breathed life into Virginia throughout the narrative of this film, and that without her, Virginia would have struggled to be. Virginia’s writing is in danger of being pushed aside in this story, except of course for the work she produced about Vita. But, Virginia’s life was not about Vita, and the suggestion that it was, damages her impact on literary and feminist history.
Is Vita and Virginia good for women’s history? Probably. Films like this one bring these individuals into the attention of audiences in an age when we can openly discuss the impact they had on each other as de facto muses, especially with the acknowledgement that Orlando is a love letter. But, as with any version of history, this shouldn’t be the only version of them. Both women were more than the people they loved, and I for one want to see Vita’s relationship with Violet explored on screen, and Virginia’s mental health, its causes and its repercussions shown in more depth.
Further Reading:
Vita and Virginia, dir. Chanya Button, (Bohemia Media, 2018), https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/video/detail/amzn1.dv.gti.3d8d1e48-e1bc-45d3-a4d2-aa2e34689b90?autoplay=0&ref_=atv_cf_strg_wb
Beresford, George Charles, 'Woolf, (Adeline), Virginia', Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, (2004), < https://www.oxforddnb.com/display/10.1093/ref:odnb/9780198614128.001.0001/odnb-9780198614128-e-1003284?rskey=pH0ozi&result=2>
Gordon, Lyndall, Virginia Woolf: A Writer's Life, (Oxford University Press, 1984)
Hochstrasser, T. J. , 'West, Victoria Mary [Vita] Sackville-', Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, (2004/2017), < https://doi.org/10.1093/ref:odnb/35903>
Lee, Hermione, Virginia Woolf, (Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group, 1999)
Woolf, Virginia, Orlando, (London, The Hogarth Press, 1928)
Sackville-West, Vita, Woolf, Virginia, The Letters of Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf, (London: Virago Press, 1992)
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