Evelyn Waugh's "A Handful of Dust" and Ernest Hemingway's "The Sun Also Rises" both feature memorable female characters. Lady Brett Ashley, from "The Sun Also Rises" is a strong, independent woman who refuses to commit to just one man. Brenda Last, from Evelyn Waugh's "A Handful of Dust," is an unhappily married woman who engages in an extramarital affair. These two women have one defining characteristic: infidelity. Although the unfaithful Brenda and the promiscuous Brett are similar in their flaws, they are also very different characters in their motivations, attitudes, and eventual consequences as fallen women. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get the original essay The character of Brenda Last develops slowly. At first, we only hear a few mentions of her when Mrs. Beaver calls her "charming" (Waugh 6), and "people were crazy about her when she was a girl" (7). A little later, Jock refers to Brenda as his “granddaughter” and “devoted wife” (11). Despite these glowing references to Brenda, she is later revealed to be far less than a devoted wife, and certainly not charming towards her husband and son. The first subtle but significant clue that Brenda is not what people imagine is that her room is called Guinevere. Although every room in the house has an Arthurian name, the fact that Brenda's room is named after the queen who ultimately betrays Arthur is no coincidence. And just as Guinevere and Lancelot's relationship is what ultimately brings about the fall of Camelot and the destruction of Arthur himself, Brenda's affair with Beaver will ruin Tony emotionally and financially. Unlike the famous Guinevere however, Brenda's affair with Beaver is not rooted in passion, but boredom and selfishness. “Brenda finds no real satisfaction in being a wife and mother. Bored by her marriage to Tony, who is decent and honorable, but boring, she carries on an affair with John Beaver, a half-man who lives by his telephone on the fringes of the fashionable world” (Nichols 53). Brenda's dissatisfaction with Tony causes her to ignore the ramifications of an extramarital affair and quickly moves to London to be near her lover. Brenda's selfishness is largely due to her immaturity, which is hinted at early in the novel when she admits to her husband, "You're so much more serious than me" (25), and makes no effort to discipline their son. Brenda is the center of her own universe, blending in with others who share similar views. It is notable that Brenda, like Guinevere, is “untouched by her husband’s righteousness” (Auerbach 30) and therefore spends as much time as she can with the women. like her. Brenda and those around her transform life into a kind of art that can only be judged on aesthetic rather than moral grounds (Greenberg 370). Brenda's friends see the death of little John Andrew as a rumor among those around them, and Jenny narcissistically blames herself: "O God... What did I do to deserve it?" (Waugh 157). An article in College English stated that “Brenda and her entourage are heartless” (Nichols 55). Although capable of emotion, they are unnatural in their passive rejection of traditional roles such as faithful wives or loving mothers. Even Brenda's mother seems to be consumed by the triviality. What little we know of Brenda's mother, Lady St. Cloud, is a possible indication of how Brenda acquired such indifference toward awareness of the feelings of others. Lady St. Cloud's personality is reflected in herridiculous letter of condolence: “…I will not come to Hetton for the funeral, but I will think of you and my dear grandson all the time. I will think of you as I saw the three of you together at Christmas. Dear children, at a time like this, only you yourselves can help each other. Love is the only thing that is stronger than heartbreak... (Waugh 170). "Although her mother's absence does not hurt Brenda since she herself is not really affected by her son's death, her mother's clichéd sympathy letter reveals the sheer stupidity of the society in which Brenda mixes and was later raised, Lady St. Cloud told Tony, speaking of Brenda, "Brenda must have felt a little neglected – that's often the case at this stage of marriage. I have known countless cases, and it was naturally flattering for her to find a young man to beg and carry for her. That's all, nothing wrong. And then the terrible shock of little John's accident destabilized her and she no longer knew what she was saying or writing. You will both laugh about this little fight for years to come” (175). The very idea that the couple could ever laugh about such a serious affair is absurd in itself, even if they later reconciled. The death of a son and an affair that threatens to tear a marriage apart are no laughing matter. The essence of Brenda's character is revealed most clearly through her affair with Beaver. After years of marriage to a man more in love with his home than his wife, Brenda seeks fulfillment outside of her marriage. She finds it in the person of John Beaver, a man whose only use is to make up an even number at dinner parties. Brenda is not really attracted to Beaver: he simply arouses her curiosity by being similar but inferior to everyone she has ever known. John Beaver's reputation, even among Brenda's friends, is far from favorable, and he is described as "a dreary young man" (66). Brenda's playful nature allows her to enjoy games of trying to discover whether Beaver actually has any depth of character. Brenda says of her lover: “He is second-rate and snobbish and, I think, as cold as a fish…” (66). Later in the novel, Marjorie asks Tony not to divorce Brenda at least until she has found someone more reasonable than Beaver (174). Brenda's sin, then, seems not to be that she was unfaithful to her husband, but that she was unfaithful to John Beaver. Brenda's affair with Beaver is perhaps the most revealing aspect of her character, but Brenda's most shocking characteristic is revealed when she receives the news of her son's death. When she learns that her son has been killed, she initially believes Jock is talking about Beaver. When Brenda realizes that it was her son and not her lover who was the victim of the tragic accident, her response is “Oh, thank God” (162). Jonathan Greenberg's article “Was Anyone Hurt?” states: “The fact that Brenda feels relieved and thanks God that her son died in place of her odious lover clearly reveals her depravity. His reaction to the news—unlike his reaction to the story of the strangled girl—is so shocking that any laughter it might provoke is overwhelmed by the revulsion a reader probably feels” (360). Brenda's reaction confirms Ms. Rattery's previous comment. to Tony that the news of the death might not upset Brenda as much as he fears: "You can never tell what will hurt people" (149). Brenda's relief upon hearing the news of her son's death is by far the most memorable part of Brenda's character which establishes her abnormal nature. Brenda has no remorse about cheating on her husband, and does not do so during "A Handful of Dust". repentof his ways. James Nichols notes that Brenda is well aware of Beaver's uselessness, but to support her lover, she insists on a divorce and a large settlement (54). Brenda's demands ensure that Tony will lose his house to meet her demands, but she is completely unsympathetic to his plight. Quite the contrary, Brenda writes to Tony about her desire to divorce as if it were only a slight inconvenience, asking him not to worry too much about it and hoping that they will be great friends (172). Brenda's request isn't just juvenile; It is completely illogical to think that after unrepentantly cheating on her husband and forcing him to sell his house in exchange for her divorce, they will ever be able to meet again.Jake Barnes is the protagonist of The Sun Also Rises, Brett Ashley serves center and objective of the novel because Brett is what all men have in common. She is “the embodiment of the modern woman” (Elliott 77). His presence determines the action of the story, as well as the actions of the male character throughout the story. Brett is a modern, strong and independent woman, “quasi-alcoholic and almost nymphomaniac” (Rovit 156). She exercises great power over the men around her, as her beauty and charisma seem to charm everyone she meets. Additionally, she refuses to commit to just one man, preferring ultimate independence. Unlike Brenda, whose character develops a little more slowly, Brett's striking personality emerges immediately. She is described by Jake Barnes, the narrator, as "damn beautiful". She wore a jersey sweater and a tweed skirt, and her hair was brushed like a boy's. She's the one who started all this. She was built with curves like the hull of a racing yacht, and you didn’t miss any of that with that wool jersey” (Hemingway 30). Her entry into the story is with a group of young homosexual men, thus establishing her character as a man's woman. Is she one of the boys, as evidenced by her interactions with men, such as when she enters the Café? Select and greet all chaps (36). She is accepted as one of the men, but that doesn't stop the men around her from falling in love with her. Where Brenda Last is in the company of women who are her mirror images, Brett has no friends. Brett even says of herself, “I don’t have a friend in the world.” Except Jake here” (65). What would be the equivalent of Brenda's circle of gossipy women is Brett's group of young gay men. “Homosexuals like to play sports with the “fallen” woman or tease her. His own “corrupted” sexuality provides them with a non-threatening toy” (Elliott 81). Brett seems comfortable around gay people, because unlike other men in the story, they probably won't fall in love with her. Brett may be defined by her sexual freedom, but her independence doesn't make her happy. She frequently complains to Jake about her unhappiness; “Oh darling, I have been so unhappy” (32), she says. Her wandering from relationship to relationship parallels that of Jake and his friends from bar to bar, and although she is independent of any person, she is dependent on always being in a relationship with someone at all times. As Jake points out, “She can’t go anywhere alone” (107). Although "Brett is broke and relies on men to support her hedonistic lifestyle" (Onderdonk n.pag.), it is not the fear of financial ruin that compels her to act, as shown by her refusal to the count's offer of ten thousand dollars to accompany him to Biarritz (Sprague 260). Brett carries herself confidently but inside is a broken and insecure woman, scared to death of being alone. What is most remarkable about Brett is his total modernity. Brett is not old-fashioned at all. If shebecame real and somehow transported to today's Parisian, London or New York high society, she would fit in perfectly. Brett is celebrating. She is decidedly sexual and aggressively promiscuous. She even wears her hair cut short, like a man. She's one of the boys, whether it's the group of gay men or Jake, Cohn, Mike, Romero, and the Count, all of whom she's attempted relationships with. And yet, everyone who meets her finds her attractive and feminine. As a result, almost every man in the book falls in love with her. This does not mean that Brett is selfish or narcissistic. She's just realistic about the power she has over men and accepts it. Brett's "unenviable time with her former husband" (Rovit 156) "made Brett the freewheeling equal of any man" (Baker 83), incapable of long-term action. commitment, and is therefore always involved with a man. Despite her reputation, men fall on her everywhere she goes, and Brett makes her choice. In "The Sun Also Rises", it is clear that Brett has had relationships with several male characters, leaving them hurt or heartbroken in some way. The most obvious example is Robert Cohn, whose obsession with Brett leads him to act violently towards his friends. Brett sexually rejects Cohn after a brief tryst in San Sebastian, and for the next few weeks Cohn denies the loss of the relationship (Onderdonk n.pag.). Cohn “idolizes Brett, and his “frank and simple” nature cannot believe, given their affair, that his love is not reciprocated” (Scott 311). Brett isn't like any other woman any man has ever met, which is part of her mysterious attraction. Yet this same factor is the most confusing aspect of his personality: Cohn doesn't understand that Brett drifts in business the way men drift in bars. It doesn't mean anything to her. The effect his behavior has on Cohn is disastrous. Arthur Scott says in defense of Cohn's reaction: "Only Brett has the power to ruin him. He idolized her, was her lover, endured gross insults for her, and now he fights for her. Her ultimate reward is that she calls him a “red donkey,” refuses his outstretched hand, and throws herself lovingly on the other man” (313). Brett, who has all the graces of the aristocracy and is so full of class that she needs no title (see the Count's comment on page 64), is not a fancy queen. The discovery of this truth is what pushes Cohn over the edge; “His glorious romantic illusion was finally irreparably shattered. His queen turned out to be an imposture, an imposture, a social contraption” (313). When Brenda's illusion of Tony Last is shattered, her personal shock is silent and submissive. When the emotional blow finally pushes him over the edge, he flees to South America rather than lash out at those around him. Brett's decision not to pursue a relationship with young Romero for fear of ruining him follows this violent episode with Cohn, who had been ruined by once being Brett's lover. If Jake could have had sex with Brett, he's sure they would. I had such a relationship at one point, but Jake is “a sexual cripple, incapable of ever escaping loneliness and consummate love” (White 45). Part of the novel's plot involves wondering whether Brett and Jake could have made each other happy if he had been able to satisfy her sexual needs, or whether the stability of their relationship relies on the fact that it cannot be consummated. Jake muses that “she thinks she's in love with him because he's something she can't have. It's certainly true that her love grows after Jake's crippling injury."(Rovit 156). It's possible that she's attracted to Jake in part because he's a direct contrast to her in being asexual. Brett's unhappiness is rooted in three things. First, like Jake, Mike and the Count, she is a veteran. Second, there is no place in his society for a woman like Brett. Although Brett is a strong woman highly desired by men, her type is not socially acceptable at this time among other women. Finally, Brett is almost as tormented by their unrequited love as Jake. In fact, her serial adventures can be seen as attempts to fill the void created within her by Jake's unavailability. Note that immediately after Jake tells Brett that he loves her, she says that she is in love with Romero, as if to bury her powerful, mutual feelings for Jake. This scene is not the first time that Jake has confessed his love for Brett, but it seems to become more and more painful for Brett as the novel progresses. Unlike Jake, who is in the same position at the end of the book as on the first page, Brett has changed somewhat by the end of The Sun Also Rises. First, she's become truly capable of loving someone other than Jake - an important step if she wants to live a life that's less than completely miserable. But what's even more striking is that even though she loves Pedro Romero, she loves him madly, in fact, she ends their relationship because she knows that continuing it would harm Romero's career. Brett demonstrated a capacity for generosity that was not apparent at the beginning of the novel. Although she leaves Romero, whom she seemed to truly love, she still torments Jake by continuing to return to him, despite the fact that they will never be more than what they are at the end of the book; friends. The only hope for Brett is that she can learn to control her promiscuous behavior and settle down with a man, maybe even Jake if she could accept the fact that their relationship would never be sexual. The only hint that Brett may be redeeming himself is his decision to leave Romero. Compared to Brenda Last, Brett plays an interesting role as a fallen woman. She fits the role more completely due to her numerous affairs and furthermore carries the persona of a fallen woman in her appearance and behavior. She smokes and drinks heavily and socializes strictly with men, most of whom are former lovers. Yet, despite her many sexual escapades, she recognizes that she has a problem. Brenda, on the other hand, never admits to doing anything wrong and fully justifies her affair with Beaver, acting as if her affair was the most natural thing in the world, except that it inconveniences her husband. Both women have affairs with younger men. Brenda misses the symmetry of her marriage to Tony and engages in an affair with Beaver out of boredom. Beaver is neither well respected nor well liked in Brenda's circle, so her choice of him as a lover is obviously not motivated by deep feelings. Brenda never expresses an apology for her affair with Beaver. Brett, on the other hand, is fully aware of her problem, but engages in multiple affairs because she cannot control herself. These actions led to Brett being labeled by critics as a "compulsive bitch" (51) and "self-destructive" (qtd. in Wagner-Martin 51). Most of the men she's with are at some point an object of fantasy to her, but they don't maintain her interest for very long. Brett's problem is rooted in deep emotional pain that she exacerbates through sex, just as men deal with their problems through alcohol. In Brett's case, rather than reject Romero as a normal lover, she leaves him because sherealizes the potential damage it could cause. do to him. Following the violent episode with Cohn, Brett decides that she cannot risk hurting Romero, whom she truly loves, the same way Cohn was hurt. She realizes that it would be “bad for him” (Hemingway 247). She refuses to be “one of those bitches who ruin children” (247), and to do so, admits to Jake that “it feels good to decide not to be a bitch” (249). In Brenda and Beaver's relationship, things don't last long after Brenda divorces Tony. Due to their mutual lack of depth, it is unlikely that Brenda's relationship hurt Beaver, but she never considers this possibility; for Brenda, having an affair is up to her. Both Brett and Brenda are well-liked in their respective circles. Brett socializes with men, many of whom become lovers, but she is the favorite of the locals wherever she goes and slips into high society wherever she travels, with relative ease. Cohn describes her as “remarkably attractive,” while appearing “absolutely fine and straight” (Hemingway 46). Brenda is also mentioned favorably. John Beaver's mother and Jock Grant-Menzies compliment her before she enters the novel. Although Brenda and Brett are in very different circles, they are both popular in their own worlds. Coming back to the fact that Brett is a modern woman, this is one point on which Brett and Brenda differ greatly. Brett is a modern woman in the sense that she manages to make it as a hard drinker and party girl, but she remains attractive and distinctly feminine. She is openly promiscuous and is defined by her independence and her ability to control the men around her. Brenda, on the other hand, still seems a little old-fashioned compared to Brett. Brenda is the stereotypical English housewife who takes trips to London and mixes with upper-class women. Although Brenda has no remorse over her decision to cheat on Tony, she is not known for being an unfaithful wife; that's why she keeps her affair discreet. Brenda is very much a woman, while Brett, while feminine, has distinct qualities that are undeniably masculine. Brett wears short hair and men's hats while ordering drinks deemed inappropriate for women. Brenda, although unfaithful, still fulfills her role as a wife and mother, and as a socially gracious and well-educated lady. Traditionally, fallen women meet a tragic end which serves as a moral for the reader. This is not the case for Brett Ashley or Brenda Last. While Victorian literature “ordains that a woman's fall ends in death” (Auerbach 30), the shift from Victorian to modern literature marks a shift in conventions. Brenda's relationship with Beaver does not last long after her divorce, but she marries Jock Grant-Menzies as soon as Tony is declared dead. Brett's ending is more ambiguous when she leaves Romero and decides to continue her engagement to Mike, even though the hope of a successful marriage is extremely low. As we know little about Jock Grant-Menzies, it is impossible to say whether his marriage to Brenda will last or not. It's possible that if Jock could be a little more attentive to his wife's emotions and opinions rather than just giving her money to do what she wants, there would be a slight possibility that Jock and Brenda would have a happy marriage. Fallen women have become some of the most fascinating and famous characters in literature. Tess of the D'Urbervilles, The French Lieutenant's Wife, The Sound and the Fury, 1984, and countless other novels have featured women of all kinds and from all walks of life., 1969.