Anne Lister is celebrated as the first modern lesbian. Women around the world have been tuning into Gentleman Jack, a period drama inspired by her diaries. This is because, more than 200 years after her birth, we still crave meaningful lesbian stories.
And what makes this season of Gentleman Jack so good is that it leans into Anne’s complexity. When lesbian first represented the mainstream, we were either depicted as goodies with no flaws in a bid to challenge homophobic attitudes or villains whose moral corruption was inextricably linked to our sexuality. But Gentleman Jack offers a nuanced portrait of Anne Lister, and is unafraid of showing her bad side.
Sure, Gentleman Jack shows Anne’s good qualities. Anne is an incredibly brave person, wearing masculine clothing and living with her female partner even though she’s mocked for it. She cuts a dashing figure, striding through Halifax in her sweeping black coat like a Sapphic Severus Snape. Plus, Anne is charming – as evidenced by her success with the ladies. She’s charismatic, winning unlikely allies over to her schemes. And she’s incredibly smart, dropping facts and using her education to find all manner of solutions.
But Anne has just as many flaws. She’s manipulative – even her own sister admits it. And, speaking of Marian, Anne treats her appallingly. Anne’s snobbery and selfishness are never clearer than when she threatens to cut Marian off for marrying a man she looks down on. Marian, who defends her against gossip and accepts a lifetime of playing second fiddle to Anne with good grace. Marian, who supports her moving Ann Walker into Shibden Hall no matter how unusual that arrangement is at the time.
Much like lesbian, the term ’emotional affair’ wasn’t in use during Anne’s lifetime. But that’s exactly what she had with Mariana Lawton. As Gentleman Jack shows, the two of them sent countless pages of passionate letters to one another – even after Lister took the sacrament with Ann Walker, and considered herself married. Not to mention the physical affair that follows when Anne visits Mariana alone at Lawton Hall. An affair she denies, even after a suspicious Ann asks why she has been so attentive since returning to Shibden.
Then there’s the fact she pursued Ann Walker for her money. Mariana accuses Anne of going after Ann’s fortune, and her denial is very carefully worded. Anne is very good at side-stepping the truth. She tells Ann “I love you”, but doesn’t say “I’m in love with you.” In her internal monologues she talks about how happy they’ll be together, that Ann suits her. But she never admits that Ann loves her more than she is loved in return.
Anne Lister is even worse with servants. Anne views them more as tools than people. This is never more evident than when she’s confronted with a child, tearful and homesick, and gives the girl a stern lecture about the importance of working hard for her mistress. Anne is high-handed, entitled, and downright cruel.
In recent years Anne has been touted as a gay rights icon. But the rights Anne was most interested in were her own. A landowner and staunch Tory, she was very much invested in social and economic inequality. Anne’s interests aligned first and foremost with the rich – fellow members of the landed gentry. It’s not a coincidence that Anne’s land and how she can maximize profit – regardless of the human cost – play such a central part of season two.
Anne Lister wasn’t just the first modern lesbian. She was an early proponent of Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss. She gaslights Ann about her affair, gatekeeps happiness to control Marian, and girlbosses the working class to maintain her wealth. It’s not pretty. But Gentleman Jack season two is all the stronger for showing her moral complexity. The show would be simplistic – not to mention historically inaccurate – if it only made room for Anne’s better qualities.
