Maria Graham: A Literary Biography
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Maria Graham: A Literary Biography By Regina Akel

Chapter 1:  The Early Years
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my poor dear mother appeared, drenched equally with rain and with sea water. In spite of the storm she had not been able to resist the desire of seeing me, her eldest child, once more before she parted with me for an indefinite time. It was long, long before I could in any degree forget her last sobs and kisses as she took leave of me, and we were many miles on the London Road before I had cried myself to sleep upon my father’s knee. (11)

Although Maria Graham herself does not say it, the text suggests that she never saw her mother again. Rosamund Brunel Gotch indicates that the mother died soon after this moving parting scene (16), which becomes intensified by the strength of the feelings displayed, by the force of the storm, and by the depiction of Maria’s childish self as unaware of the reality of her situation. Children losing their mother was a common occurrence in the nineteenth century, in real life as well as in fiction,2 at a time when so many women died in childbirth. The relation of this part of Maria Graham’s life is not exceptional; what is worth noticing is the manner in which the story is told, with the use of the storm as a metaphor for feelings in turmoil, the vivid description of the parting between mother and child, and the situation of the narrator as only partially aware and of the reader as omniscient in this case.3 It is the reader, therefore, who has to complete the narrative from the information the protagonist inadvertently provides.

Before she is taken to school, Maria goes to London to visit relatives. There she finds herself at a disadvantage, both physically and morally, next to her cousin Mary who is good, beautiful, and elegant:

Her education had been very early begun, her acquirements were beyond her years, but her understanding surpassed even those. I write from a deep recollection of almost every look and word of my cousin Mary. Though she was so much superior to me in everything, her sweetness, her gentleness, her generous appreciation of everything good about others was such that, rough and ignorant as I was, I never felt abashed or uncomfortable with her. She was six months older than me, but she lived to be only sixteen. (19)