Picnic at Hanging Rock is a fictional book written in the form of a true crime document. For years after its publication, readers sought to uncover any trace of news articles or historical documents about the purportedly real disappearance at Hanging Rock—to no avail. Just as Joan Lindsay created shock, titillation, and rabid interest in her readership, the characters within her novel spread gossip, rumors, and scandal. By creating a book which in itself serves as a metafictional commentary on the toxic environment of sensationalism created therein, Joan Lindsay uses Picnic at Hanging Rock to show how gossip and scandal have the power to influence and impact the lives and fortunes of those within it—from the wealthy and powerful to the obscure and downtrodden.
From the early pages of the novel, Lindsay takes every opportunity to show how the potential for scandal and gossip control the daily lives of her characters. The girls of Appleyard College are perhaps the characters most intimately connected with the theme of gossip and scandal. Even before their fateful journey to Hanging Rock, the teenage boarders find their lives controlled by the potential of their every action to reflect poorly upon their school and to render them social pariahs. As Mrs. Appleyard sends the girls off on their journey to Hanging Rock in a covered drag, she reminds them not to remove their gloves until they’re past Woodend, the nearest town. She also instructs them never to remove their hats no matter how stifling the heat on the journey or at the rock. This simple example shows just how little fuel society would need to turn the girls into objects of gossip and scandal—the girls are told to stay completely covered because failing to do so would mean appearing lewd or improper according to social norms. Mrs. Appleyard, to be fair, is overly obsessed with appearances—but as she bids the girls goodbye, even she knows that the collective future of the school and the individual futures of the girls hinge on how they present themselves to others.
Once news of the disappearances at Hanging Rock breaks, the girls find their lives transformed by the rumor mill in their small, rural township. As Appleyard College becomes the focus of gossip, scandal, and mystery, concerned neighbors, local and city policemen, members of the press, and intrigued townspeople alike knock at the door day and night. The girls’ schedules are disturbed, their learning environment becomes the subject of scrutiny, and their very educations are threatened. As speculation about the nature of the disappearances gets more and more out of hand, concerned parents write to Mrs. Appleyard asking to pull their children from the school. The girls’ own questions about what has happened to their classmates and math teacher begins to drive them all slowly mad—as evidenced by their traumatized collective reaction when Irma comes back to school to visit, gather her things, and say goodbye. The girls’ entire environment has been destabilized by the far-reaching effects of gossip, scandal, speculation, and uncertainty—and all of their lives, forever changed the day of the picnic, are further thrown into tumult by the maelstrom of stories swirling around them.
Joan Lindsay’s clever use of the true crime genre to tell a fictional tale serves as a metafictional commentary on the glitter and allure of scandal, gossip, and drama. From the time of its publication, Lindsay’s novel was marketed as—and believed by many to be—a true crime book. Readers hunted tirelessly for more information about the purportedly truthful disappearances, driven by the unsolvable mystery’s gravity and unknowability. Joan Lindsay herself constructed the very foundation of her novel around human nature’s insatiable need for scandal and gossip, knowing that the same uproar which, in the pages of the novel, spawns countless news articles and endless verbal speculation about the nature of the disappearances would propel her actual novel into the hands (and minds) of curious readers.
By creating a story about the destabilizing effects of gossip and scandal which itself, as a book, has long relied on the human desire for those very things, Joan Lindsay has created a perfect example of how sensationalized media and dramatized rumors can make or break one’s fortune. Just as the Hanging Rock scandal had the potential to bring Appleyard College to its knees, Lindsay created a book which had the potential to shape her life, career, and legacy—and she pulled both plots off with aplomb.
Gossip and Scandal ThemeTracker
Gossip and Scandal Quotes in Picnic at Hanging Rock
Whether the Headmistress of Appleyard College […] had any previous experience in the educational field, was never divulged. It was unnecessary. With her high-piled greying pompadour and ample bosom, as rigidly controlled and disciplined as her private ambitions, the cameo portrait of her late husband flat on her respectable chest, the stately stranger looked precisely what the parents expected of an English Headmistress. And as looking the part is well known to be more than half the battle…
“I have instructed Mademoiselle that as the day is likely to be warm, you may remove your gloves after the drag has passed through Woodend. You will partake of luncheon at the Picnic Grounds near the Rock. Once again let me remind you that the Rock itself is extremely dangerous and you are therefore forbidden to engage in any tomboy foolishness in the matter of exploration, even on the lower slopes. […] I think that is all. Have a pleasant day and try to behave yourselves in a manner to bring credit to the College.”
If Albert was right and they were only schoolgirls about the same age as his sisters in England, how was it they were allowed to set out alone, at the end of a summer afternoon? He reminded himself that he was in Australia now: Australia, where anything might happen. In England everything had been done before: quite often by one’s own ancestors, over and over again. He sat down on a fallen log, heard Albert calling him through the trees, and knew that this was the country where he, Michael Fitzhubert, was going to live.
The Headmistress, after a night passed in staring at the wall of her bedroom interminably whitening to the new day, was on deck at her usual hour with not a hair of the pompadour out of place. Her first concern this morning was to ensure that nothing of yesterday’s happenings should be so much as whispered beyond the College walls.
For three consecutive mornings the Australian public had been devouring, along with its bacon and eggs, the luscious details of the College Mystery as it was now known to the Press. Although no further information had been unearthed and nothing resembling a clue, […] the public must be fed. To this end, some additional spice had been added to Wednesday’s columns’ photographs of the Hon. Michael’s ancestral home, Haddingham Hall […] and of course Irma Leopold’s beauty and reputed millions on coming of age.
Greatly to Mrs. Cutler’s surprise the lamb had been brought in just as she had been lying on the Rock, without a corset. A modest woman, for whom the word corset was never uttered by a lady in the presence of a gent, she had made no comment to the doctor […] Thus the valuable clue of the missing corset was never followed up nor communicated to the police. Nor to the inmates of Appleyard College where Irma Leopold, well known for her fastidious taste […] had been seen by several of her classmates, on the morning of [the picnic] wearing a pair of long, lightly boned, French satin stays.
“If I may say so, now that you are no longer under my care, your teachers were continually complaining to me of your lack of application. Even a girl with your expectations should be able to spell.” The words were hardly out of her mouth before she realized that she had made a strategic blunder. It was above all things necessary not to further antagonize the wealthy Leopolds. Money is power. Money is strength and safety. Even silence has to be paid for.
“You know very well I’m not one for gossip. What is it you want to find out?”
He grinned. “Shrewd little woman, aren’t you? I’ve been wondering if you ever heard any of your lady friends mention Mrs. Appleyard at the College?” In Bumpher’s experience it was amazing how an ordinary housewife seemed to know by instinct things that might take a policeman weeks to find out.
About ten minutes later she was out in the drive waiting for the trap at the front door. She was wearing a long navy blue coat and a brown hat with a feather sticking up that I’ve seen her wearing when she goes to Melbourne. She was carrying a black leather handbag and black gloves because I wondered why a person would think of gloves at such a time.