Mark Bold

Cecil appears late in A Room With A View; we do not meet him in Italy, but at Windy Corner in Part 2 of the book, where Forster is concentrating on the resolution of Lucy’s muddle. The first mention of him, in a letter from Lucy’s mother while she is still in Florence is inauspicious. The news of Cecil is what “interested her least”. And this ambivalence of Lucy’s towards Cecil is continued when he appears in Part 2, and we learn it is his third attempt at proposing marriage.

Because of this late addition to the characters, Forster is explicit in his description of Cecil. But this description is of a Gothic statue, and the impression we gain at this early stage is of an inhuman character. The posture of the statue suggests the superiority and arrogance that Cecil will reveal as the narrative continues. Forster also connects Cecil and Mr Beebe, hinting that both represent the “medieval” that conflicts with the “Renaissance” of Lucy’s development. Mr Beebe’s early judgement of Cecil is that he is “better detached”, and this opinion seems increasingly accurate as we learn more of Cecil’s character.

The first movement of this statue, we are told, is one of irritation, and from the first instance it seems Cecil is not comfortable with the reality of life. One of the most profound flaws in his character is that he is a non-participant. His high intellectual standards prevent him from being involved in the mundane nature of life, so, for instance, he is never seen on the tennis court, and “the neighbourhood is deprived of the romance of me being athletic.” This pretentiousness is used by Forster to humorous effect, enabling the reader to see straight through Cecil’s perceived appearance to the languid reality. His claims to unconventionality and devilish Italianate behaviour are undermined because they do not seem “applicable to a young man who had spent a quiet winter in Rome with his mother.” He reveals his passive indifference to Mr Beebe, giving his lack of profession as an example of his “decadence” and further showing that he has an obsessive self-interest that tends to exclude those around him. His attitude to others is never sincere or pleasant, but as he grows tired of the atmosphere of Windy Corner, it develops into “scarcely veiled insolence” and contempt for the members of Lucy’s family.

“The grip of a certain devil whom the modern world knows as self-consciousness” is what prevents Cecil taking part in life and keeps him confined to the world of intellectualism and irritation. This is perhaps best conveyed in his first attempt at kissing Lucy, which only occurs after his third attempt at proposing marriage. The scene is presented by Forster almost in slow motion, as Cecil has time to intellectualise the event as he approaches Lucy. The kiss itself is awkward; it is a failure. Only in Cecil’s imagination, after the event, can the kiss be achieved in the perfect manner that Cecil hopes for. Here, the contrast between Cecil and George becomes most obvious, and Lucy realises this too, as all that is on her mind is George’s kiss.

Cecil stands opposed to George in the way he is used by Forster as an obstacle to Lucy’s development. Cecil’s first assumption as he enters the household at Windy Corner is that he should dominate and control. He not only has plans for the rooms and furniture, but also Lucy and her development. It is his intention to rescue “his Leonardo from this stupefying twaddle” at Windy Corner and “introduce her into more congenial circles as soon as possible”. This may be partly because of Cecil’s arrogance and assumed superiority over the country community, but also stems from his attitude towards Lucy. Whenever Forster shows us Lucy from Cecil’s point of view, she is never a living person, but a work of art, Leonardesque. Once again this displays Cecil’s misplaced values: the aesthetic and intellectual over interest in real people, especially the woman he is going to marry. It is a trait that George recognises when he tells Lucy, “He is for society and cultivated talk. He should know no one intimately, least of all a woman.” This new light on Cecil’s character is what finally makes Lucy realise the truth about her situation; she is made aware of the difference between Cecil and George and the way her development, which began in Italy, is only hindered by Cecil.

The contrasts between George and Cecil are most explicitly displayed in their different philosophies of life. For George, nothing fits, and he labours under a Note of Interrogation while he tries to find a reason to live. But his attitude is fundamentally positive, because, as he tells Lucy, “I shall want to live.” This is why George is a beneficial influence on Lucy, as opposed to the sneering cynicism of Cecil, who “despised the world as a whole”. Yet Forster uses this very negative attitude to ironically benefit the process of Lucy’s development. Cecil, believing he is in league with the Comic Muse and capable of manipulating people to his own amusement, arranges for George and Lucy to be reunited at Windy Corner. Once again, Forster is explicit about Cecil’s motives for encouraging the Emersons to move to Cissie Villa: “the only relationship which Cecil conceived was feudal: that of protector and protected. He had no glimpse of the comradeship after which the girl’s soul yearned.” This is a direct contrast to the spirit of George, who tells Lucy, “I want you to have your own thoughts, even when I hold you in my arms.” But this emancipation has to be fought for as Cecil’s ideology pervades Windy Corner and inhibits Lucy’s development and the resolution to her “muddle”.

Throughout the novel, it seems that Cecil’s character develops very little, if at all. He could, in fact, be said to be a ‘flat’ character, in that he has little depth or interest and only stands for what Lucy needs to fight against. Forster uses the metaphor of a room and a view to convey the limited nature of Cecil’s character. This takes up the theme that had been introduced when Mr Emerson had said, “I have a view”, yet now Lucy realises that whenever she thinks of Cecil it is in a room “with no view”. Forster also points out the different effects of Italy on both Lucy and Cecil. “Italy had quickened Cecil, not to tolerance, but to irritation.” But Italy, as well as the Emersons, have influenced Lucy, and gradually she becomes aware of the inflexibility of Cecil’s character, and is at last made to realise what marrying him would mean.

The end of the engagement is, however, a rare opportunity for Forster to present the more human aspects of Cecil. He accepts with humility the judgements Lucy makes, which she herself has accepted from George. Here there is a sudden development in Cecil, a moment of self-realisation and truth. Lucy realises that, “By a cruel irony, she was drawing out all that was finest in his disposition.” There is a dignity with which he takes all the criticisms to heart and sees himself with a clarity that matches Lucy’s. This development may even provoke the reader’s attention; it certainly rounds Cecil’s character and makes the memory of him, now that he has left the narrative, less one-sided, even human.

Most of Cecil’s time at Windy Corner, though, is spent as an impediment to Lucy’s development and as a contrast to the qualities of George. He is the embodiment of all that Lucy is fighting against in her muddle, and he is therefore used by Forster to create the tension that accompanies the uncertainty of Lucy’s future.