Cannibals, Pirates and Slaves – Oh my!

I approached Moll Flanders with a rather regret that we weren’t exploring Defoe’s Robinson Crusoe instead. A story of pirates, cannibals and survival seemed much more interesting to me than a bildungsroman about a woman oppressed within America. However, the social critique taking place in Moll Flanders did give me satisfaction as a student of the world, regardless of my limited entertainment.  

Defoe’s depiction of society is rather bleak and criticized its seemingly misplaced values. This human portrait of a woman is also an excellent sketch of the living conditions and the social stratification in England in the 18th century: “the Age is so wicked and the Sex so Debauch’d”. It shows the immense chasm between a small class of wealthy people and the rest (Swift: a thousand to one). The latter were struggling for sheer survival and praying “Give me not Poverty, lest I steal” … to be hanged: “If I swing by the String, I shall hear the Bell ring, and then there’s an End of poor Jenny.”

Defoe paints the poor’s religion as fatalism. Moll Flanders is all the time reproaching herself her Course of life, “a horrid Complication of Wickedness, Whoredom, Adultery, Incest, Lying, Theft”, but in the face of death at the gallows, “I had now neither Remorse or Repentance … no Thought of Heaven or Hell … I neither had a Heart to ask God’s Mercy.” The bleak outlook on society mirrors Defoe’s criticism of humanities limitations and sin.

I am glad to have read Moll Flanders for its educational promise; however, I would have rather entertained my boyish fantasies through Robinson Crusoe, which I will read -someday- outside my academic pursuits.

Guilty Pleasures

   Evelina, although seeming to take the shape of a soap opera with the many twists and turns of society, differed greatly from other narratives we’ve xplored through its unusually wild circumstances. The young Evelina is thrust into society and into the hands of wolves, mostly because she is so beautiful. Seemed like an episode of the O.C. – just over 200 years earlier. 

   I do confess I used to watch the O.C., and began to have a relative attachment to the characters on the show. Similarly, I did grow an attachment to Evelina, and she did have more of an affect on me than the characters of the other stories we’ve read - I didn’t shake my head at the protagonists naivite or  snicker at a man in tears, but actually felt sympathetic. 

   Evelina was not quite as gripping as the O.C or the hills, but nonetheless it was enjoyable.

*Sniff Sniff*

    I agree with the majority of the posts about The Man of Feeling. I found it quite boring, a couldn’t believe how often Harley cried! I would never cry at many of the things he did  –call me insensitive– and I don’t believe many others in the class would either. I found it hard to believe that it stated in the Monthly Review: “the Reader, who weeps not over some of the scenes it describes, has no sensibility of mind.” WTF? I guess I have no sensibility of mind — shame on me. I guess it was 1771 when this review was written, so maybe these issues would have made me bawl my eyes out at a more relevant time.

    However, Mackenzie was not attempting to show Harley as this cry baby I interpreted. Harley’s sensibilty was intended to be respectable and virtuous. Some have commented on his innocence as naivete, but Gerard Barker reveals that “Harley’s innocence evokes our respect rather than our contempt because we associate it with his idealism and benevolence.” This is something else I believe we interpret differently in the modern day. My perception of Harley as a cry baby influence my notion that he was indeed naive and overly trusting.

   To read the novel with a modern-day attitude will surely cause the reader to assume conclusions that were not intended by Mackenzie. A fact that is the same with many of the narratives we have read previously in the course: if we did not read within their context, they would appear absurd to us as students of the twenty-first century. Thus, once I thought of Harley within the novel’s context it was much more accessible to me. However, I still did not shed a tear.

Anon, The Monthly Review, XLV (1771), 149

Barker, Gerard. Henry Mackenzie. Boston, MA: Twayne Publishers, 38.

Widget

I know this has nothing to do with anything pertinent to the class, but it was a post I received on facebook and I thought it was pretty cool.

fi yuo cna raed tihs, yuo hvae a sgtrane mnid too
Cna yuo raed tihs? Olny 55 plepoe out of 100 can.
i cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno’t mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt! if you can raed tihs forwrad it

Pamela: Revisited

I know, I know… we have all had about enough of Pamela. So I apologize in advance for beating a dead horse, but I could not resist. While researching Shamela, I stumbled upon a very interesting review of an essay about Samuel Richardson from a collection of articles. The review struck me because of its relative familiarity to our course:

To this reviewer, who has often attempted to teach Pamela to undergraduates, one of the most interesting essays in this collection is Florian Stuber’s “Teaching Pamela.” For five years Stuber has been teaching  Pamela in an English composition course in a New York technical college whose students, primarily women with an average age of twenty…. The questions in Stuber’s mind were would these young women find Pamela insupportably prolix; would they be offended by its prurience, hypocrisy, and vulgarity; how would they react to what Ian Watt called its mixture of sermon and striptease. The students kept a journal of their impressions as they read. Both Vols. I and I1 of the novel were read, which meant that the weekly reading and writing assignments were substantial  (Steeves 114). 

The approach journals written by the students are a parallel to the blogs we write. Considering we are a class of mainly females with a similar average age, I decided to explore whether or not our class would have similar reactions and interpretations of Pamela. Unfortunately, the majority of the class did not respond to Pamela, so it is a very miniscule sample. Both Amber and Joscelyn had similar reactions to Pamela: 

I am annoyed because Pamela continually writes that she needs to get out of the house and  away from her terrible master, but she keeps staying there another week, after another week, after another week… Why wont she just leave?!!! (Amber). 

The only thing that bothered me in the book, was that Pamela was so desperate to be released from her master, and returned to her parents.  Her master did eventually give her the option to leave, and half way through the drive home she decides that she wants to return to him and be his wife!!!!!  The only thing I could think was what an idiot she was, why would you want to return to someone who has treated you horribly and who has attempted numerous time to steal your virtue (Joscelyn). 

These reactions do not coincide with those offered by the students from Stuber’s class: 

These young readers did not find the “Virtue Rewarded” theme vulgar. Vol. II seemed to them even better than Vol. I. Some suspected a sham marriage, and wondered at the risks Pamela took in returning to Mr. B. “I have to agree with her on her uneasiness, but I would go back too. How can anyone keep from going to someone they love when she hears he’s sick and needs her?”… The students’ pleasure in reading Vol. II seemed to derive from the fact that it was about someone they had come to care for. For them, Vol. II proved that Virtue is Rewarded, and they definitely thought it should be (Steeves 115). 

Despite these contrasting reactions, there is a shared relationship between Pamela and the reader evident in the responses. This intimacy is further emphasized by other entries that personally address Pamela: 

The intimacy and immediacy of the epistolary form led some students to address Pamela directly. “Pamela, you immature brat, get the hell out of that house or you are just asking for trouble.” “When they talked by the pond, she should have suckered him into marrying her” (Steeves 114). 

My dear sweet “Pamela,” I feel compelled to write to you, as you have been my bedtime, albeit somewhat tedious, companion for the past two weeks now, since I have subjugated myself to your letters and journal…  (Helena) 

Despite having different reactions to Pamela’s story, this emphasizes that relationships were developed between readers and Pamela. This intimacy is further emphasized by the emotions Pamela stirred within Amber and Joscelyn –for whom it “annoyed” and “bothered”. Thus, it seems that whether or not the reader feels either compassion or contempt, Pamela engages the readers in a personal relationship.    

Steeves, Edna L. Rev. of Samuel Richardson by Margaret Anne Doody. Modern Language Studies, Vol. 20, No. 3. (summer, 1990): 113-116

The Cinderella Story

   A few days after finishing Pamela I was babysitting my neice and watching Cinderella when I realized how the two stories are alarmingly similar. No, Prince Charming does not seem as ravenous and aggressive as Mr. B; however, the ideology is implicitly alligned. Prince Charming uses his social stature and political power to foster his desires: he employs the kingdom to find the woman of his lustful thirst. Likewise, Mr. B is in a position as a member of higher society that he is justified in achieving his goal through any means.

   Prince Charming and Mr. B both objectify women and their pursuits are oriented through the body. Mr. B is attacking Pamela’s virtue through his physical attacks upon her body. Prince Charming is not quite as devious as Mr. B, but he is trying to force women to fit perfectly into his image of what a woman should be; he is trying to force someone to fit into his glass slipper.

   Despite the fact that Cinderella is a fairy tale and disney movie, it offers a more dismal and perverted vision of female ambition than Pamela. The females throughout the story have no self, but are trying to achieve an identity that can only be defined through the masculine: the dreams of most women and girls is to marry Prince Charming and be HIS Queen. In fact, the only women who seems to transcend society is the fairy godmother: a character that could never exist and is only there to help Cinderella be found by the Prince. Cinderella is not a self made woman, but a man made woman -evidently, there is no escape from the social constraints.

   Pamela offers a similar rags to riches social transcendance that ultimately fails. Pamela initially upholds her virtues against the onlsaught of Mr. B and social hierarchy, but later fails by accepting his proposal. Mr. B maintains the hierarchy and still gives her orders as if she were his servant despite being “in love”: he explains to Pamela what he expects and requires of a wife in a business-like manner.

   Cinderella and Pamela enforce the old stereotypes of both the masculine and feminine spheres. It is just lucky that the implicit ideology of Cinderella is more subtle than Pamela’s provocation or I am sure I would have had a lot of explaing to do to my neice.

What is a child?

      A discussion was triggered in class by a few blogs that emphasized the bizarre concept of sharing the Newgate stories with their children: today it would be ill conceived by many to do such a thing. The thought of children being an innocent being that we must nurture and protect is a relatively recent phenomenon, and the present notion of “childhood” has not always existed.
     The perception of a child as an innocent creature that is molded by our care and influence did not come into existence until the 20th century. Previously, children were seen as bodies of sin. The Victorians viewed children as crude, sinful, sexual and hungry beings simply acting out of primal instinct; therefore, they were not as shielded and protected as children are today.
     The notion of childhood was almost nonexistent in the middle ages. They were born into the world with the similar burden of sin that echoed into the Victorian age, but they were basically thought of as little people or young adults. The infant mortality rate was phenomenal, and these children were no stranger to corporal punishment. They would work from a very young age: often within the home helping the mother until they were old enough to engage in factory or labour work.

   If children were not even thought of as children, but simply little people, then it is no wonder families of the middle ages would share the Newgate experiences with the whole family. The children were not innocent, vulnerable vessels of possibility and potential that needed shielding, but were sinful little people that were exposed to every aspect of life.