Alias Grace part 2 review: ‘I’m angry. I’m so very angry’

More questions arise in the beautiful and harsh second episode of Netflix series, Alias Grace, with this episode focusing on betrayal.

When we last observed Grace Marks on Alias Grace, we gained much insight and few answers. While engaging in a quasi-therapy session with Dr. Simon Jordan, she revealed her difficult childhood and started to describe her life as a maid.

This episode, however, does not open with Grace’s intense, incisive monologue. Instead, we see a dream of Grace. She stands alone and, for Victorian sensibilities, half-naked in her shift. She seemingly appears out of the mist, but then the gallant Dr. Jordan arrives to cover her with his coat. The real-life Jordan then wakes in his own bed.

Grace, who left her first interview with Dr. Jordan comparing herself to a ripe peach “splitting of its own accord,” apparently isn’t the only one with unspoken urges.

That’s nearly all forgotten when Jordan’s landlady brings him breakfast and promptly faints. She admits that her husband has left her and taken all their money. The maid has left as well. That breakfast, by the way, was the only food in the house. She herself hasn’t eaten in nearly three days.

Jordan advances her two months’ rent and shares the food. She’s grateful, but the whole exchange underlines the powerlessness of women in this society. Without a husband — a protector — Jordan’s landlady is mere steps from utter ruin. As this episode will show us, practically any woman is subject to a betrayal that can destroy her. Even the ones who are most aware of the brutality and powerlessness of their situation can succumb to it.

Grace’s dreams and memories

For the second meeting between Jordan and Marks, he asks Grace about her dreams. As in the first episode, she sees violent visions of housekeeper Nancy Montgomery (Anna Paquin), who waves and then falls, bleeding. But, again, Grace eludes study. She says that she must dream, like anyone, but simply doesn’t remember what entered her mind while she slept.

In short order, the pair return to Grace’s first position as a maid in the Parkinson household. She’s almost painfully naive but has the tremendous good luck to befriend Mary Whitney. Where Grace is shy and quiet, Mary is exuberant and talkative. She’s also uncommonly gentle with Grace. When Grace wakes up and screams to find that she’s bleeding, Mary calms her down. It’s only her monthly period. Like an older sister, she lends Grace a red petticoat and the necessary pads.

Mary even quips that, though menses are called “Eve’s curse”, the real curse of Eve is having to deal with men all the time. Modern-day misandrists can at least take heart in this brief joke amidst all the cruelty.

And cruelty does indeed march forward through this episode. If you thought the transgressions of Grace’s father were horrible in the first episode, then you had better gird yourself for the events here.

Jeremiah the peddler

Mary and Grace play a game, wherein they throw an apple peel over the shoulder. The shape of the fallen peel will form the initial of their future husband. Grace gets what appears to be a “J”, causing Mary to tease her and say that Grace will marry Jeremiah the peddler. But Mary cannot peel an apple. She’s left with broken bits of peel three times over before she says that it’s only a game.

Jeremiah the peddler (Zachary Levi) shows up in quick enough order. He’s friendly and charismatic, so much so that he feels as if he’s stepped in from another, happier show. But, like many of the men in this series, he’s got an edge of creepiness. In a quiet moment, he takes hold of Grace’s hand and reads her palm. “There are sharp rocks ahead,” he tells her. “You will have much trouble, but all will be fine in the end. You are one of us.”

But what will cause trouble for Grace? Is it her poverty? Her bad luck at being born a woman? Or perhaps it’s the sons of the family, particularly the dissolute and overly friendly George. Mary warns of him and other men, saying that “Men are liars by nature, Grace”.

Yet, Mary cannot take her own advice. She quickly becomes tired and irritable. Then, the vomiting — and wow, it’s a lot of vomiting — begins. “I saw my mother in this condition very often,” says Grace.

“I thought he wasn’t like other men,” says Mary. He had given her a ring and promised marriage. Though she refuses to say who, exactly, has gotten her pregnant, Mary’s glances at George and unseen moments alone with him make it more than clear.

Mary’s dire situation

It was a dire thing for a young, unprotected and unmarried woman to get pregnant then. As in England and other countries, young Canadian women in Mary’s situation had few good choices. They might go to a workhouse — but then they could easily die in childbirth, knowing that the staff would quietly smother their newborn. She could try and make it on her own, but Mary is terrified of the grinding poverty and illness down that path.

Perhaps, says Grace, Mary could try to push for marriage one more time. Yet, when she approaches the father-to-be, Mary has no luck. He gives her five dollars and says that, if she wants a quick end of things, she might simply drown herself.

Mary — bright, happy, full of life Mary — is ruined by what she thought was love. The only other choice, it seems, is to get an abortion.

Now, 19th century Toronto had no Planned Parenthood. Abortions were a dirty, reviled secret. So, Grace must escort Mary into a less savory part of town. Before they enter the doctor’s office, Mary hands Grace a handwritten note. It’s a will — if Mary dies, all of her belongings will be left to Grace.

You see nothing of poor Mary’s procedure, but you hear her screams and sobs. Grace is able to get her friend home but is forced to leave her alone in bed. Later that night, Mary tells her, “I’m angry. I’m so very angry”. They recount the rebellion of William Lyon Mackenzie as a kind of shared bedtime story, to comfort Mary in her pain.

A deceitful girl

Grace then wakes to find Mary dead, much like she discovered her own mother’s death on the Atlantic passage. She’s bled to death. It’s heart-rending, but perhaps not so shocking given the tone of the episode. Still, Grace is further traumatized by her only friend’s painful end.

The other maids are horrified, as is Mrs. Parkinson. The lady of the house, however, is more concerned about the family’s reputation. “What a deceitful girl,” she says while standing over Mary’s cold and bloody body. She later bribes Grace, promising to give her a raise and a good reference if the young maid does not reveal the identity of the father.

Grace briefly thinks that Mary speaks to her, saying “let me in”. She opens a window but worries that it may still be too late for her friend’s soul to escape.

Soon thereafter, Grace faints and won’t wake. The servants try to rouse her and watch over Grace’s insensate body but to no avail. Still, this is a brief moment of female camaraderie that shows Grace is perhaps not totally alone.

Grace wakes, briefly, but insists that she is Mary Whitney. “Where is Grace?” she demands, becoming nearly frantic before fainting again.

“In your hand, you want to hold my beating female heart”

When she wakes a day later, Grace tells Jordan that “I knew again that I was Grace and Mary was dead”. She doesn’t remember the time “between the two long sleeps” and says that this amnesia disturbs her.

Later, thinking to herself, Grace again resists Jordan’s work. “It is knowledge of me you crave, doctor. Forbidden knowledge.” While she says this, we see a strange shot, where we are floating through the empty Kinnear house, site of the infamous murders. “You want to open up my body and peer inside,” she continues. “In your hand, you want to hold my beating female heart.”

Next: Alias Grace part 1 review: Who is Grace Marks?

The men of Alias Grace want to keep and possess women. Perhaps they want only to use a woman’s body for their own pleasure or to use her as a prop for their latest sensational article. It could be that, for all of their apparent gallantry, they only see women as useful things or interesting, career-making case studies.

But, for all that this society binds women, can they ever truly be owned? The caged Grace Marks may be more complicated and difficult to pin down than she seems.