The Long Call

The novel’s Devon communities are very much under the sway of various patriarchal systems of control, some of which are immediately visible and some of which remain hidden for much of the narrative. The Barum Brethren are the novel’s first and most prominent example of a patriarchal institution that exerts undue influence over its community. The religious group is run by the abusive and sexist Dennis Salter, and even the word “brethren” is a plural form of “brother,” connoting a community defined by its proximity to masculinity. Salter uses his status in the Brethren to exert control over the Brethren’s members; those who agree with his views are allowed to stay, and those who don’t, like Matthew, are excommunicated. Even institutions that are not as overtly sinister as the Barum Brethren exhibit a “boy’s club” mentality that privileges the viewpoints and desires of men, often at the expense of female members. The police force itself is an example of such an institution, for Joe Oldham’s paternal relationship with Ross allows Ross to access connections within the force that Jen isn’t privy to, and this dynamic creates a distinct social network through which Oldham can directly impact Matthew’s investigation, using his relationship with and power over Ross.

The women who exist within these patriarchal frameworks are acutely aware of the effects these systems have, and some effects are immediately visible. While Jen works the case alongside Ross, she is often asked to stay at the station and take phone calls while Ross saves the more active fieldwork for himself. Jen reflects on the mundane task of manning the phones, saying, “Ross would think that was women’s work, sifting through the corded messages, phoning back the callers. And she would be better at it than him, more patient, more sympathetic” (88). Jen’s observation reflects the sexist double-bind of being a woman who must work within a patriarchal system. Jen has had to build emotional and interpersonal skills that the men in her line of work are not expected to cultivate, and as a result, her willingness to develop these skills relegates her to undesirable tasks in the workplace. Thus, Jen must navigate the sexist demands of patriarchal systems every day.

While Jen’s workplace dynamics are an overt effect, other aspects of negotiating the limitations of a patriarchal society are not as readily visible. For example, Rosa’s plotline demonstrates the violence and abuse that women within this culture must anticipate and cope with. Everyone who knows about Edward’s actions immediately works to cover up his crime and silence anyone who would tell the truth, and when the truth does come to light, Rosa is blamed for her own rape, with Christopher Preece labeling her as “being a little…promiscuous” (329). This reaction to Rosa’s rape highlights the fact that patriarchal systems respond to the harms they create by silencing and obfuscating the truth, for the men who run the Woodyard use every lever of power at their disposal to ensure that Rosa’s story is never told. Christopher’s financial power, Dennis’s religious power, and Colin’s legal power work together to silence the women who might otherwise tell Rosa’s story—Rosa, Janet, and Lucy. By silencing those whose testimony would threaten the existing patriarchal institution, such men maintain their control despite the gross injustices that have occurred. The narrative also implies that men like Christopher and Dennis gain their power from the façade of beneficence and respectability. Jen notes at the end of the narrative that Ross had “been brought up to believe that respectable people could do no wrong” (352). The circumstances surrounding Rosa’s assault and Simon’s murder illustrate the fact that silencing institutional wrongdoing is a means by which powerful people maintain their façade of respectability. In this way, patriarchal systems sustain their power despite the social imbalances they create.