True Blue Women

Since class on Friday, I've been thinking a lot about our continued discussion of women writers. Specifically, we talked about the specifics of Scott's feminist project.  I will list a few of those to recap:

-not equality between men and women, but reforming women's education. In other words, still separate, but better than it has been thus far.

-women's economic prospects (women had almost no agency pre-marriage)

-a role model is necessary

-critique of male shallowness in choosing a wife

-what to do about "fallen" woman w/o support (loss of virtue always stays with a woman)

-problem of marriage alone as source of economic stability and emotional happiness

On the other hand, there was a notable contradiction: Scott's novel plays lip service to marriage yet the novel shows example after example of women choosing not to marry.

This contradiction also goes hand in hand with the novel's support of reliance of female friendship as the alternative to sole reliance on a man for stability and emotional support.

With these points in mind, I was thumbing through the very insightful and interesting book Dr. Hague loaned me over the weekend.  I know its not on our reading list for the semester, but I found it really helped me to understand some of Scott's feminists projects, so I thought I would share it here, as well.

The book is entitled, "The Blue Stocking Circle: Women, Friendship, and the Life of the Mind in 18th Century England,"by Sylvia Harcstark Myers.  We've talked about the blue stockings in class on several different occasions, so I won't go into too much detail, but one thing in particular that Myers said about the group went along with our many discussions about concerns of women writers during this time period: "the efforts of the blue stockings to to gain for themselves and others the 'female right to literature' succeeded at least in creating an image of the educated woman as a respectable member of society" (12).  This seems like such a no brainer--for educated women be recognized as someone worthy of respect, but I hadn't even thought of a feminist project as simple as this before I read it. Yet, its not so simple, either. At least, not during this time. It makes sense to me, then, why Scott's novel doesn't seem concerned with frying "bigger" fish like tackling the problem of equality between men and women, and why, instead, the novel focusses continually on education going hand in hand with morality. The mantra, "educated women are virtuous women" seems to be chanted throughout "Millennium Hall." Being aware that educated women were fighting just to be recognized as respectable members of society during the 18th century (and beyond), helped me to understand the emphasis in Scott's novel on education being closely linked to virtue--because if a woman isn't recognized as virtuous, she can't possibly be looked upon as respectable.

Scott's emphasis on female relationships and marriage were brought to mind while reading Myers, as well: "The prospective blue stockings took their friendships seriously and made them a means of personal  development. As they grew into young women, of course, they also faced the issue of marriage" (85).  Myers also cites an example of the realities of marriage during this time: "Anne Donnellan, herself unmarried, assured Elizabeth Robinson when she was on the verge of marrying, marriage 'is the settlement in the world we should aim at, and the only way we females have of making ourselves of use to Society and raising ourselves in this world...'"(85). Myers explains that this assessment reveals "Donnellan's awareness of the narrow opportunities available to the women she knew. They could make themselves useful by becoming wives and mothers; they could raise themselves by marrying men who who had more money or higher status than they" (85).

Myers' assessment echoes our discussion of Scott's novel concerning the reliance of women upon each other for emotional support. Because the reality, as Donnellan tells her friend, is that marriage is a useful institution in terms of having a decent place in society. In other words, marriage serves a purpose that is void or nearly void of emotional connection. This explains why women in the blue stockings as well as the women in Scott's novel hold their friendships with other women in such high regard. Donnellan's phrase "raising ourselves" seems pervasive throughout Scott's novel as well.

Looking at Utopia in "Millenium Hall"

In trying to decide what to write about this week, I couldn’t help coming back to Minnie’s insightful presentation on Utopian and Dystopian novels on Friday.  I know that everyone is well aware (probably more so than me) of what “utopia” means in relation to literature, but just for my own clarification I looked up a definition of the word.

Utopia: an ideally perfect state; especially in its social and political and moral aspects.

While pondering this definition, I also perused Dr. Hague’s question from Wednesday about Millinium Hall, and landed on number two: “What can you tell about the frontispiece and advertisement about the way that Scott has positioned herself in relation to this novel?” Turning to these in the book, I was reminded of our discussion of women writers and the need to protect one’s reputation during a time when women not only didn’t have the luxury of making strong political statements, but also during a time when a woman’s character—not her ability as a writer—was what (among other things) determined her success or failure as a writer.  I was reminded of this discussion through the words on the advertisement, “The Gentleman who wrote this volume, is of too much consequence to be obstinately contradicted…” Here, not only is the character of the author emphasized as chiefly important, but the author is also a man, pointing toward a kind of authorizing that protects a woman writer, allowing her to distance herself from the opinion within the novel, while appropriating her novel by attributing it to a male writer.  I was reminded of this discussion as well when I looked at these words on the frontispiece: “A Description of Millenium Hall… by a Gentleman on his Travels.” Again, here we see this same kind of authorizing.

However, something else about the frontispiece caught my attention.  While still thinking about the word “utopia,” I read these words:

“A Description of Millenium Hall… Together with the Characters of the Inhabitants, and such Historical Anecdotes and Reflections, as May excite in the Reader proper sentiments of Humanity, and lead the Mind to the Love of Virtue.”

Notice the phrase: “as May excite in the Reader proper sentiments of humanity.”  Although, as we’ve noted in Defoe’s and other’s novels, it was a popular trend to preface a novel by telling the reader how to read a particular work, I couldn’t help but think it ironic that this novel presents an ideal world, in social, political, and moral aspects, yet before the novel even begins, we are charged to read it in such a way that it incites “proper” sentiments of humanity.  Now, granted, the word “proper” could be interpreted in different ways here, but if nothing else, the insertion of “proper” implies that there is also an “improper.” In other words, there is a good way and bad way to read the “sentiments” of the novel. 

In light of our discussion on Friday, I thought that the contrast between the utopian world that the novel appropriates and the restricting guidelines concerning how to read the same novel was worth noting.

Concerning the "Place" of Women...

For today’s blog, I’d like to explore one of the questions from Dr. Hague’s handout wrapping up the end of The Female Quixote.  Here is question 3: “On page 339, Sir Charles considers the possibility that Arabella may need to be committed against her will.  What is it about her that might need containing in such a severe manner? Why is she a threat? Or, to put it another way, if allowing her to return to her country solitude would remove her from the scene where she’s causing such embarrassment and discomfort, why consider the more extreme solution of locking her away?”

To help answer this question, it is necessary to take a look first at Sir Charles’ inward considerations concerning Arabella. After we learn that Sir Charles has resolved within himself that Arabella is “absolutely mad,” he debates within himself, “Whether he ought not to bring a commission of lunacy against her, rather than marry her to his son, whom he was persuaded could never be happy with a wife so unaccountably absurd” (339).  He goes on to mention that, “He expostulated with him on the... ridicule to which she exposed herself wherever she went; appealing to him, whether in a wife he could think those follies supportable, which in a mistress occasion’d him so much confusion” (339). 

After going over and over Sir Charles’ thoughts about Arabella’s madness, trying to come up with an answer, I came to the conclusion that there is no good reason why Arabella should be locked up instead of simply returning to her life of solitude.  I mean, back in the country she wouldn’t be causing any embarrassment to others with the “absurdity of her behavior” to anyone--anymore than she would in a madhouse, and at least back at her home, she would be able to potentially live out her days happy in her illusory reality.  However, after taking a closer look at Sir Charles’ words, I think that a reason can be found for why Sir Charles wishes her to be committed.  After concluding that Arabella wouldn’t be a right fit for his son, being so “unaccountably absurd,” Sir Charles proceeds to talk about types of women. Notice his phrasing: “whether in a wife he could think those follies supportable, which in a mistress occasion’d him so much confusion” [italics mine]. Basically, Sir Charles is saying that Arabella wouldn’t be a good fit for his son because she wouldn’t be properly fulfilling the role that a wife should fulfill.  Put another way, because Sir Charles is convinced that Arabella is mad, he believes that she won’t be capable of being a good wife, which is why he is so persuaded that his son could “never be happy with a wife so unaccountably absurd.” 

Although Sir Charles’ feelings about Arabella certainly explain his aversion to Arabella marrying his son, they don’t quite explain why he would want to have her locked away.  However, an answer came to me while I was reading over Rousseau’s “On Education.” Consider Madame de Wolmar’s words concerning her “role”: “I am a woman and a mother, and I know my proper sphere.  I repeat, the duty with which I am charged is not the education of my sons but to prepare them to be educated” (46). What M. de Wolmar’s words reveal (and how it connects with question 3), is 18th century notions of the roles of women as fixed and non-intrusive upon the roles of men.  Looking at Sir Charles’ feelings about Arabella through this lens, it makes more sense that he would want to have her committed. Arabella is unusually independent for a single woman, and her boldness (like we see in book 6, and throughout) when it comes to speaking her mind to men imposes a threat (in Sir Charles’ eye) upon men, because for a woman to step outside of her role is a threat to a male-dominated society.  Rather than simply send her to the country, then, Sir Charles would much rather send her somewhere where her “madness” (or perhaps, independence) could potentially spread to other women.  Her inability to fit into her proper “sphere” or role is what causes Sir Charles to become so paranoid about her sensibilities, and what prompts him to favor the “out of sight, out of mind” solution to her “madness” over one less extreme.

Taking a Closer Look at Book VI

While trying to decide what to blog about this week, I found myself drawn to Book VI of "The Female Quixote." I found our discussions in class on Friday (spurred by Dr. Hague’s questions) particularly interesting. I think we’d all agree that there’s never enough time in class to give each question the attention they deserve, so in lieu of a longer class I'd like to explore one of Dr. Hague’s questions a bit more. 

The third question on the handout from Friday asks: “What do you think of Henry Fielding’s assessment of Lennox’s novel?” In case you don’t have your handout in front of you, his assessment is as follows: 

 

[“it is indeed a Work of true Humour, and cannot fail of giving a rational, as well as very pleasing, Amusement to a sensible reader, who will at once be instructed and very highly diverted... tho’ the Humour of Romance, which is principally ridiculed in this work, be not at present greatly in fashion in this Kingdom, out Author hath taken such care throughout her Work, to expose all those vices and follies in her Sex which are chiefly predominant in our Days, that it will afford very useful Lessons to all those young Ladies who will peruse it with proper Attention."] 

By Fielding's account then, Lennox's novel is both entertaining and instructive.  Rather than leaving the assessment at that, however, Fielding claims that the novel works principally to ridicule romance, and that Lennox has taken great care to expose all the "vices and follies in her sex."  Fielding finishes his assessment by praising the novel as a useful sort of bible that will serve as a guide for young women, provided they read it the "right" way--taking to heart its moral "Lessons," rather than reading it simply for pleasure or diversion.

I wouldn't entirely disagree with Fielding's claim that Lennox's novel is at once entertaining and instructive.  However, the type of instruction that Fielding assigns to the novel is problematic.  His claim that Lennox has "taken such care throughout her Work, to expose all those vices and follies in her Sex," is an unvalidated one.  In fact, when held against Book VI, this claim doesn't hold water.

Book VI is nearly entirely made up of a false history that Sir George gives of himself.  He tells this "history" in a very romantic style, in the hopes of winning Arabella. Despite his efforts to sway Arabella by relating his acts of chivalry and love to her, his plan doesn't go the way he hopes (The heading for Book VI, chapter X foreshadows this outcome: "Wherein Sir George concludes his History; which produces an unexpected Effect").  The unexpected effect is that, rather than win Arabella's affection through his incorporation of the romantic notions that govern Arabella's every move into his own "history," she is turned off by what she views as a serious character flaw in Sir George: inconsistency.  

Consider Arabella's words: "Had you imitated the illustrious Heroes of Antiquity, as well as in the Constancy of their affections, as, it must be confessed, you have done in their admirable valour; you would now be either sighing in your Cave for the Loss of the generous Sydimiris, or wandering through the World in Search of the beautiful Philonice"(251).  In other words, Arabella is claiming that, had Sir George imitated the great romantic heroes in their constancy of affections as much as he had imitated their valour, he would still be either grieving the loss of Sydimiris, or still searching for Philonice.  Because of Sir George's "shameful inconsistency" (according to Arabella), his plan to win Arabella over backfires--not only turning Arabella off, but also pushing her farther into her romantic world.  Arabella claims that, had Sir George modelled his behaviour after the "Heroes of Antiquity," persevering in his affection, rather than letting such inconsistency rule over him, he would "arrive at their Glory and Happiness, that is the reputation of being perfectly constant" (251).  In other words, if Sir George had been constant in his affections like the heroes Arabella listed, he would have gained their happiness, as well.  

Now let's return to Fielding's claim, that Lennox has taken great care to expose all the "vices and follies in her sex." It is true that most of the novel revolves around Arabella's skewed view of reality because of her strict adherence to romantic ideals.  However, Arabella's adherence to a romantic code does not serve to expose the follies of women.  Rather, I would argue conversely, that Arabella's stubborn adherence to Romance as a model for behaviour--especially in Book VI--exposes the follies of men who exploit women in order to take advantage of them.  Rather than exposing the vices and follies of women, Lennox is pointing out (among other things) the limitations of female power in a society where a woman's fate is largely decided by men. 

Sir George's false history serves to perpetuate Arabella's condition by reaffirming her false reality.  However (though hyperbolic and ridiculous), Arabella's false reality actually allows her some agency in the novel.  Even though this romantic model for behaviour wouldn't likely afford the same kind of independence for a woman in real life during Lennox's time as it did for Arabella,  the novel does seem to be making the claim (in some small way at least), that for a woman to have complete agency requires a complete change in ideals. 

Contradictions in Addison’s "No. 10"

The last week or so, we’ve been exploring periodical literature from the 18th century.  One particular entry from Joseph Addison’s and Sir Richard Steele’s The Spectator, caught my attention.  While reading “No. 10” (written by Addison), I was reminded of a previous discussion concerning Defoe’s Moll Flanders.  Specifically, that writers before and after  Defoe’s time--as well as Defoe himself--were very concerned with prescribing how people should read their works (as we see in the preface of Moll Flanders). The belief was that there is, in fact, a right and wrong way of reading.  What caught my attention about Addison’s “No. 10,” is Addison’s concern--not with how people should read (though this preoccupation is certainly present) so much as who should be reading his work.

Consider these lines: “I shall be ambitious to have it said of me, that I have brought Philosophy out of Closets and Libraries, Schools and Colleges, to dwell in Clubs and Assemblies, at Tea-tables, and in Coffee-houses.” Here, it appears Addison is declaring that he wishes to take philosophy, a concept that is the privilege of scholars, or a select few, and take it out of confinement and bring it to the masses.  However, to dwell in clubs, at tea-tables, and coffee-houses is still the privilege of a select group of people.  I’m not trying to suggest that Addison’s aim purposely excludes lower class people, but there’s still a feeling that philosophy, though brought into these places, still remains a privilege that excludes the lower class, however genuine Addison’s aim toward inclusion.

Addison lays out specific instructions for reading his works in the domestic sphere as well:

“I would therefore in a very particular Manner recommend these my Speculations to all well-regulated Families, that set apart an Hour in every Morning for Tea and Bread and Butter; and would earnestly advise them for their Good to order this Paper to be punctually served up, and to be looked upon as a Part of the Tea Equipage.”  Notice Addison’s wording here: well-regulated families. Maybe I’m reading too much into this, but well-regulated seems to be associated with families of propriety, as opposed to families that do not regularly take part in the “tea equipage.” The word equipage has both functional and ornamental implications, as well.  In some way, Addison seems to suggest here that his articles should be read or “served up” with as much ritual as the taking of tea, so that the purpose for reading is not purely for instruction, but for habit, or appearances, as well. 

The most direct audience that Addison addresses should read his writing is women: “But there are none to whom this Paper will be more useful than to the female World.”  Addison goes on to say, “I have often thought there has not been sufficient Pains taken in finding out proper Employments and Diversions for the Fair ones. Their Amusements seem contrived for them rather as they are Women, than as they are reasonable Creatures; and are more adapted to the Sex, than to the Species.”  What I like about these lines is that Addison seems genuinely sympathetic toward women.  He recognizes that not enough has been done to find employment for women, pointing out that society tends to judge them as women, rather than human beings.  It is this false classification that has driven women toward, as Addison later points out, the “toilet” and “adjusting of their hair,” as the principal employment of their lives.”  

Even though it is problematic for a man to claim that he has the authority to instruct women, Addison points out that women are unjustly trapped into roles that limit their potential, and that is to his credit.

Affectation Becomes Her...

I want to take a closer look at these lines from Canto 4 of Pope’s Rape of the Lock:

There Affectation, with a sickly mien,
Shows in her cheeks the roses of eighteen,
Practis’d to lisp, and hang the head aside,
Faints into airs and languishes with pride,
On the rich quilt sinks with becoming woe,
Wrapt in a gown, for sickness, and for show,
The fair-ones feel such maladies as these,
When each new night-dress gives a new disease.

For the last week, these lines have captivated me more than any others from this poem.  Take a look at the first line. The word “affectation” means a deliberate pretense or exaggerated display, while the word “mien” means dignified manner or conduct. Pushing off of this, my re-wording of this line is something like, “There, exaggerated display, with a sickly dignified conduct.”  Though pretense and display are seen over and over in Pope’s poem, this is the most powerful example of “show” from all of the Cantos (in my opinion), because Belinda is not merely described as exhibiting these qualities.  Rather, she is show, and her name is “Affectation.” Through her ritual of grief, she has become the embodiment of her name. She is no longer Belinda, but Affectation, anthropomorphized.  

As her name purports, and her “sickly” dignified conduct conveys, she is well-acquainted with with the ritual of grief.  We see the manifestations of this as she practices the movements and motions of grief, hanging her head, fainting, and languishing. Notice that she sinks with “becoming woe.” This is such an interesting word choice here, because though “becoming” in this instance could mean increasing/swelling woe, or woe that keeps getting worse, it could also mean suiting, or enhancing the appearance of, so that the woe suits Belinda, or enhances her appearance as “Affectation.” Notice that she “wrapts” herself in a gown (not unlike her “becoming woe” that she wears) for “sickness and for show.” She is going through the rituals of grief simply for the sake of the ritual itself.  In other words, all this showiness works toward no other avail than to create her “sickly mien,” or dignified conduct. 

At first glance, it may seem that through her ritualistic behavior Belinda is merely resigned to living up to her new name.  However, that her “practis’d” actions only serve themselves, and therefore do not serve Belinda, we can conclude that her actions are not entirely of her own volition. Consider the last two lines of the above selection: “The fair-ones feel such maladies as these, when each new night-dress gives a new disease.” With each new night-dress put on by the fair-ones, a new “disease” will present itself, which will bring upon a malady, or desperate condition. Notice there isn’t an “if” in these lines, but only “when,” suggesting an inescapable fate. The fair-ones will inevitably fall. This is why the grief ritual is rehearsed over and over by Belinda.  She is one of the “fair-ones,” and she cannot escape her need for grief. She knows she will fall, like all fair-ones do. 

That Belinda goes through the motions of grief not for healing but for show reveals that she has resigned to defeat, and has become numb to the cause of it, so that woe is not something she feels, but merely adorns.

"I'll Trade You My Umbrella For A Whig:" Taking a Closer Look at Swift's "Shower"

The satiric pieces we’ve been reading the last few weeks have proved a little more challenging for me than I expected them to be. However, our continued discussion about Swift (and other satirists), as well as Dr. Hague’s explications have definitely helped me to read the satiric pieces with a little more clarity. Although I'm fairly competent at spotting satire, or even the type of satire, it's not always easy for me to understand what exactly is the object of the satire, but in light of our recent discussions, I would like to use Swift’s “Description of a City Shower” to explore the “what” that Swift is satirizing. 

Swift spends much of the first half of the poem describing a rain-storm. Yet, the way in which the rain is described is unexpected. Consider the following lines: “A sable cloud... that swilled more liquor than it could contain, / And, like a drunkard, gives it up again.”  Far from cleansing, the rain here is equated with vomit. Swift goes on to describe the rain as water being flung from a dirty mop, as it mixes with dust that the wind picks up: “Twas doubtful which was rain and which was dust.” This is not the cleansing sort of image that we might expect from a “city shower,” However, this dirty shower has as unusual (and ironic) effect. As the flood comes down, “threatening with deluge this devoted town,” the narrator claims that people from various walks of life, “commence acquaintance underneath a shed.”  To get out of the filthy rain, “Triumphant Tories and desponding Whigs / Forget their feuds, and join to save their wigs.” Swift’s choice of words here give us a clue to the object of satire in the poem. The Tories and the Whigs took opposing stances on the type of governing each group believed was best (the Tories supported a stronger monarchy, while the Whigs supported the Parliament over the monarchy). 

On the one hand, that these two opposing groups have abandoned their “feuds” long enough to share shelter from the rain, reveals that this filthy rain has caused the parties to (temporarily) abandon their “labels,” so that, for the duration of the shower, they aren’t Tories or Whigs, but just men with a common need.  On the other hand, that the only thing both parties are concerned about is the condition of their wigs, shows that they are not coming together for a reason that really matters. In other words, they’ve thoroughly missed the point, even after seeking shelter together. Their only point of unification is that they are very concerned with their personal appearances, not with the damage or leftover filth/stinch that will result from the “sweepings from butchers' stalls... drowned puppies... dead cats.” They may as well have been standing under their own umbrellas, because nothing has really changed. There is still filth all around them, and they're merely concerned with their wigs.

To get to the point of Swift’s object, I’d like to share a few lines from the letter Swift wrote to Pope (Thank you, Dr. Hague, for providing this):  “I have ever hated all nations, professions, and communities, and all my love is toward individuals... I heartily love John, Peter, Thomas, and so forth... but principally I hate and detest that animal called man.” Knowing how much Swift detested institutions/groups of people sheds some light on this poem. That Swift directly refers to groups (Tories and Whigs) and not to individuals shows that he is clearly putting the professions of “man” in the satirical spotlight and believes such groups will not result in bringing about a “cleansing” change to individuals.