Angel, All Innocence
Angel, All Innocence
These opening lines of the story set a melancholic tone, capturing the deep-rooted sorrow
passed down through generations of women. It reflects a never-ending cycle of feminine
depression born from various forms of patriarchal civilization. Perhaps the patterns of
exploitation have evolved, but the core experience remains unchanged — one of submission,
voicelessness, and the burden of upholding the civil codes of patriarchal tradition.
At the beginning of the story, Angel hears the footsteps of a ghost, creating a gothic
atmosphere. Though this spectral presence is later revealed to be a hallucination, it carries
deep symbolic significance. As the story unfolds, we realize that “it is easier to endure the
nightmare terrors of a ghost at night than the daylong silence of Edward’s anger.” Edward’s
anger is more dreadful than any ghostly apparition.
Angel, a deeply innocent girl, is ill-equipped to navigate the complexities of the world. Like her
mother, Dora, she ends up marrying a shrewd and emotionally distant man, leading to a
traumatic and sorrowful existence. The clock in their home becomes a haunting symbol — time
stands still, just like the stagnation of Angel’s unhappy life.
Edward’s decision to marry Angel is not rooted in love or deep emotional attachment, but in
personal gain. Her father offers them a remote country house, a place where Edward can
quietly pursue his artistic ambitions. Perhaps he was initially drawn to her physical beauty, but
after marriage, his treatment of Angel becomes cruel and degrading — worse than one would
treat an animal .
Edward first saw Angel as an indecisive and ambitionless girl — someone who had drifted
through different roles, working at times as a waitress in Chelsea, sometimes as a barmaid, and
occasionally as an artist’s model. He is the kind of man who never hesitated to undress a girl
like Angel for the sake of creating exhibitionist art. His goal was to attract more attention — and
more buyers — through paintings of naked women.
To Edward, Angel was not a person, but a material object. Something to be displayed, sold, and
given a monetary value. He even told her, “If you’re going to be an exhibitionist, at least don’t be
coy about it.” This statement exposes the cruel irony of society — it forces women to be coy,
and then punishes them for that same coyness. It forces them to undress, literally and
metaphorically, in order to fit into the roles men have defined for them.
Initially, Angel had no intention of revealing herself. But her obsessive love for Edward made her
surrender her body, hoping it would bring her closer to him. In a moment of emotional confusion,
she found some comfort in Edward’s friend, Tom, and ended up sleeping with him. Later, she
deeply regretted that incident.
Edward’s reaction was shockingly cold. He said he didn’t care if she was a whore, but added,
“Can’t you leave my friends alone?” This reflects Edward’s double standards. He objectifies a
woman’s body for his art and expects her not to be coy in front of his friends. Yet, he cannot
tolerate her making her own choices, especially if it involves someone in his circle.
Women, in such a world, are not allowed to choose their own happiness. Whether it is a father,
brother, or husband — a man always dictates her life. Her personal decisions are constantly
judged and demoralized. This reveals the deep-rooted hypocrisy of a society that controls
women for its own convenience, while masking its oppression in the name of morality and
tradition.
When Angel began to realize that her love was coming to an end, Edward manipulated her by
pretending that he still loved her — no matter who or what she was. Caught once again in the
web of blind love, Angel surrendered herself to him. There was no one in her life to guide her, to
help her choose a partner with whom she could build a flourishing marriage.
In another incident, Angel found Edward in a tight embrace with Ray, Tom’s girlfriend. When
she expressed her disappointment, Edward dismissed her reaction, calling her irrational and
hysterical . She had no control over her emotions. He labelled her as emotionally vulnerable.
His words cut deep. He treated Angel not like a partner, but like a doll playing with whom he can
get some devilish pleasure. Symbolically, he tossed her soul aside, reducing her existence to a
source of material or physical pleasure. He called her an exhibitionist, a whore, and a hysteric
— casual misogynistic remarks from a toxic man like Edward.
The term hysteria, historically linked to women, refers to a so-called feminine disorder — an
idea developed by Sigmund Freud. It was believed to stem from repressed desires and sexual
trauma. However, this very notion was created and circulated by male intellectuals, and was
used as a tool to control women's thoughts and behavior. No one speaks of male hysteria,
because men are presumed to have control over their emotions. This belief rooted in deeply
ingrained social bias. Society legitimizes this emotional divide between men and women. When
a man fails or falters, he often blames the woman.
Edward has the power to shatter Angel’s soul. His treatment of her is disturbingly casual, as
though her emotions and sacrifices mean nothing. Angel, who has never truly been loved in her
life, is now almost designed to be loved by Edward. She sacrifices all her personal choices, all
her freedom, just to be worthy of his affection which was never real.
“Edward’s love made flowers bloom, made the house rich and warm, made water taste like
wine.”
Angel’s entire world revolved around her husband. Her devotion to him was so complete that
nothing external seemed to affect her anymore. Once again, the ghost appears — described as
a “small,” “desperate,” “busy woman,” “back from the grave.” Symbolically, this ghost may
represent the spirit of her mother, or perhaps it is Angel’s own soul haunting her — a soul that is
emotionally and mentally dead.
Angel was pregnant, yet she never spoke to Edward about it. He had expressed that he didn’t
want children, though Angel never fully understood the reason behind it. The narrative moves
back and forth between past and present, evolving as memories and realities blend. Angel
begins to reflect on her mother, Dora.
Here, a parallel emerges between Angel and her mother, and between Edward and Angel’s
father, Tarry. Tarry manipulated Dora in a similar manner — professing his love to her while
also admitting he was often attracted to other women he met at parties, literary events, and
social gatherings. These women were, in his eyes, more interesting than an ageing shoe shop
assistant like Dora.
Dora’s unwavering devotion to her husband led to the erosion of her self-worth. Eventually, she
died by suicide, taking an overdose of sleeping pills.
Fay Weldon explores the inner psyche of her characters much like Virginia Woolf’s tunneling
technique. Rather than remaining on the surface, Weldon delves into the unseen layers of
human consciousness. The narrative tunnels through Angel’s memories, fears, regrets, and
experiences, revealing the emotional and psychological depth beneath her seemingly passive
life.
The ghost in the story plays a powerful symbolic role. At the beginning, it appears as a figure of
fear, but later it becomes an agent of transformation for Angel. For the first time, Angel dares to
wake Edward and declares her pregnancy to him. The ghost, along with the doctor, her dead
mother, and her unborn child, collectively guide her toward self-realization.
During a conversation with the doctor, he shares the story of a woman whose husband spends
his days at the pub and returns home to beat her. In response, Angel asks, “What if the woman
is financially independent?” The doctor then reminds her of the article she once published in a
Sunday supplement. She begins to weep and says, “No one will notice. It’s tucked away at the
bottom.” This line reveals her deep sense of invisibility and despair — all of which stem from her
relationship with Edward, who has drained her of her potential and agency.
Edward never truly loved her; he stayed only because she was the daughter of a wealthy crime
thriller writer. Torn between agony and a desire for self-sufficiency, Angel contemplates suicide.
Edward, pretending to care, tries to get physically close to her. But Angel finally realizes, “It is
not me he loves, but my baby he hates.”
For the first time, she resists. She firmly says, “Not like that,” pulls away, and boldly declares, “I
am sorry, but I am pregnant.” When Edward prepares to leave her, she quietly says, “I am
frightened.” But this time, she is not truly afraid. Once again, she hears the “tap tap tap” — the
footsteps of the ghost. Unlike before, the ghost now symbolizes her liberation. It helps her free
herself from the label of hysteria that Edward had used to control and dismiss her.
The story ends with Angel choosing to leave — taking her love, her unborn child, and her
reclaimed identity to a safer, freer place.
Towards the end of the story, Angel undergoes a powerful transformation — from innocence to
experience. She is someone who once loved her mother above all else, and now she prepares
to love her own child with that same depth — more than she ever loved her husband.
Ultimately, the story is about love — but it raises a crucial question: Which kind of love is truly
worthy in this complex human world? The answer depends on one’s choices.
Edward’s love is toxic — rooted in desire rather than genuine emotion. He constantly objectifies
Angel’s body and denies her any real value as a person. In contrast, Angel’s love is authentic. It
is selfless, emotional, and deeply human.
She rescues herself — not alone, but with the silent support of her mother’s memory, her
unborn child, the ghost in the attic, and the doctor who helps her recognize her worth. By the
end, Angel is no longer just an innocent girl. She becomes a woman with knowledge, strength,
and agency — someone who has discovered the true meaning of life and learned to value
herself.