Last friday in class, a thought was brought up that struck me like an arrow - Would you pity Rezia? Lucrezia, the young Italian woman who married Septimus; a foreigner, a lonely wife, a talented hat maker, and an innocent whose life was unfortunately entangled by WWI. We learn that she likes "ices, chocolates, sweet things;" we are told that she's "gay... frivolous, with those little artist's fingers" and "apt to lose things." She was amused by Septimus's silence, enchanted by his seriousness. Overall, she comes off as a young girl unsuited, above all, to marry Septimus.
He becomes engaged with her in a fit of panic. He marries her thoughtlessly, lovelessly, and somewhat pointlessly. She wants children, a gentle, serious, clever "son like Septimus." He withdraws from her, shunning her outpour of eager love and attentions. For her part, she too is incapable of understanding the bleeding chasm war has torn in him. She is incapable of filling that empty hole; she is too young, too inexperienced, too innocent to suit Septimus. Yet there is no doubt that she tries. And watching her efforts fail over and over, his presence descend further and further into madness, and their paths slide farther and farther away from each other is heartbreaking. Was there ever a hope of reconciliation? Or a marriage of minds? If not, then who's to blame? Rezia with her feathery hats or Septimus with his gravity?
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And it certainly isn't Lucrezia's fault that she is "incapable of understanding the bleeding chasm war has torn in him"--as Woolf shows, two doctors, including one of the most celebrated psychiatrists in England at the time, are incapable of understanding (or helping) Septimus. Septimus has lost his connection with the world; Rezia is something of an innocent bystander to this process. She does "try," but what can she do? As we see when we inhabit his perspective, she's barely even *there* in his view, not even quite as "real" to him as Evans stepping from the bushes and walking toward him. (But the moments just before his suicide are illuminating, and heartbreaking, as we see her enjoying him just goofing off, a simple, "innocent" fun. It does give a glimpse of what might have been. In a sense, his madness would be *easier* to deal with for her if there weren't these fleeting glimpses of normality.)
Rezia's situation really tugs at my heart. She pours her heart and soul into her marriage with Septimus, and it is sad that she can't get what she envisioned out of a marriage. She even makes the supreme sacrifice of leaving Italy, her homeland, for England so she can be with Septimus. It was perfect reasonable for Rezia to expect to a normal, happy relationship, along with hoping to someday start a family. It really is too bad... Rezia definitely deserves better, as does Septimus. (But that draws us into painting a complicated and disparaging picture of the handling/downplaying of post-war shell shock and much more)
On another note, I'm not sure very many women would be capable of shaking Septimus from his bouts detachment from reality.
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