Five Most Unforgettable Heroines...err...Female Characters In Literature

I must begin by confessing two things: 

1. In researching this topic, I found my own library to be in horrific lack of books containing strong, heroic women. A lot of the books I read are written by men and tend to focus on the struggles and accomplishments of...well, men. And then there were a few obvious names that came to mind, but I simply do not and cannot call them heroines. Perhaps I missed the point of Anna Karenina altogether, but I found the supporting characters to be MUCH more interesting and to show a great deal more depth, strength, and beauty than Anna herself. I know, I know...harpoon me later for that one. 
2. I am using the word “Heroines” loosely here. In some cases, very loosely. In fact, “loose” might be a good word for one of them in particular. Which is why I changed the name of the post from merely “Unforgettable Heroines” to “Female Characters”.

My list is below, in no particular order.

1. Elizabeth Bennet, Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen:

Too obvious? Are you sick of hearing women exalt this woman? I almost am. ALMOST. What saves me from being nauseated is the fact that she is truly incredible, exemplifying strength, courage, depth, intellect, wisdom, and a good heart. So maybe this list is in some kind of order after all, because she tops the charts. She actually remains unforgettable because of...(brace yourself) her goodness. Incredible, I know.

2.  Lucy Snowe, Villette, Charlotte Bronte:

This one is a little less obvious. She is unforgettable perhaps more for the intimate way in which her story is narrated. I mean, I may not have been her biggest fan to begin with, but by the end I just felt like I knew her so WELL. Lucy Snowe is like family, and though we tend to disagree about a lot and she is sometimes annoying, sometimes exasperating, I do truly love her. I love her for our disagreements and our occasional moments of complete accord. I love her for enveloping me in her world, where we sit on the ledge of her window in the old French boarding house while a storm rages on around us: 

“One night a thunderstorm broke; a sort of hurricane shook us in our beds: the Catholics rose in panic and prayed to their saints. As for me, the tempest took hold of me with tyranny: I was roughly roused and obliged to live. I got up and dressed myself, creeping outside the casement close by my bed, sat on its ledge, with my feet on the roof of a lower adjoining building. It was wet, it was wild, it was pitch-dark. Within the dormitory they gathered round the light-lamp in consternation, praying loud. I could not go in: too resistless was the delight of staying with the wild hour, black and full of thunder, pealing out such an ode as language never delivered to man- too terribly glorious, the spectacle of clouds, split and pierced by white and blinding bolts.”  Vol I, The casket, pg 99.

3.  Mrs. de Winter, Rebecca, Daphne du Maurier

Again, this one is less obvious than the magnanimous E. Bennet. But there is something here. In spite of her meekness, fearfulness, and oftentimes utter lack of moxie, the curiously unnamed character (who became Mrs. de Winter) is hard to forget. For one thing, she does change. She gathers strength in the end when it is most necessary. Her character truly develops from a young, naive girl to that of a strong wife, determined to do what it takes to save her husband and her marriage. She gets flack for putting up with the man and his moods for so long, but I’m not ashamed to celebrate a woman who shows the strength of perseverance in her marriage. And then there is the incredibly haunting way she tells her story. The very poetic haunted-ness of this woman makes an impression. In the end, I think I love her for her weaknesses as much as her strengths.

4.  Natasha Rostov, War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy

Seeing as this is my favorite book of all time, and I share the first name with the heroine, you really should have seen this one coming. However, other than that, she may not be an obvious choice. I absolutely cringed and wanted to weep while reading about the enormous mistakes she made in her life. The naivety of it all! The humiliation! And yet, as with anyone who makes mistakes and truly shows repentance for them later, she won me over for her remorse, her sorrow, her grief and sobriety, which led to her maturing and developing as a character. And her affection for two of my favorite male characters in literature- Andrey Bolkonsky and Pierre Bezhukov... This definitely earns her some recognition in my opinion! 

5.  Sophie Macdonald, The Razor's Edge, W. Somerset Maugham

Okay, bear with me. What makes Sophie unforgettable? She is hardly a heroine, but rather a victim. She is a figure of tragedy, sorrow, and irony. 

“I suppose it was the end of the world for her when her husband and her baby were killed. I suppose she didn't care what became of her and flung herself into the horrible degradation of drink and promiscuous copulation to get even with life that had treated her so cruelly. She'd lived in heaven and when she lost it she couldn't put up with the common earth of common men, but in despair plunged headlong into hell. I can imagine that if she couldn't drink the nectar of the gods any more she thought she might as well drink bathroom gin.'

That's the sort of thing you say in novels. It's nonsense and you know it's nonsense. Sophie wallows in the gutter because she likes it. Other women have lost their husbands and children. It wasn't that that made her evil. Evil doesn't spring from good. The evil was there always. When that motor accident broke her defences it set her free to be herself. Don't waste your pity on her, she's now what at heart she always was.” 

― W. Somerset Maugham, The Razor's Edge 

When I read the monologue above, my blood kind of boils. What kind of evil possesses one human to rationalize themselves out of feeling empathy and tenderness toward someone who has suffered such great personal loss? 

The images left with me from reading of Sophie’s eventual and tragic death by the sea are jarring and moving to say the least. But I think there is something within me that needs to cultivate empathy for Sophie Macdonald. And perhaps this is why, ever since having finished this novel, I have caught glimpses of Sophie in my reflection again and again. She’s in there, somewhere. And maybe I need to remember that I, too, am the most pitiable of all women- the most degraded, weak, and humiliated, in the sense that I have every capability of becoming so. 

The darkness of men’s (think: humans) hearts is a primary theme in my novel, Wolves and Men. The wolf- that is, the deep, dark lurking of evil is always in there somewhere, and we need to be aware of it. We need to remember that only Jesus can save us from ourselves. We are not humane on our own, and who knows what this world be (but absolute and literal Hell) apart from the constantly working Holy Spirit, restraining the darkness, and indeed restraining even the Sophie Macdonald, or (perhaps worse) the woman who mocks her sorrow, in our selves. 

P.S. Don't you love that Maugham book cover? It was one of the books I brought up with my book cover designer at our meeting a couple weeks back. I highly recommend that specific edition (Vintage) for adding to your classics library. Admittedly, it wasn't my favorite book, but it certainly left its mark, and the paperback is superb quality, with a matte finish that accurately translates the textured look of the painting. 

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Who are your top five favorite/most unforgettable heroines/female characters? 

How did you feel upon reading any of the above books?

What are your favorite book covers?