Author: cierraossege

The Power of the (Private) Police

In his introduction to The Novel and the Police, Miller describes how “police” refers not just to the government institutions of law enforcement, but also surveillance and discipline more generally. He describes, “To label all this ‘the police’ thus anticipates moving the question of policing out of the streets, as it were, into the closet—I mean, into the private and domestic sphere on which the very identity of the liberal subject depends” (viii-ix). What is established, then, are two separate spheres of policing, the pubic, as is demonstrated by organized police forces and similar institutions, and the private, which is made up of a more social kind of surveillance and discipline. The Moonstone demonstrates how these two spheres of policing can come to be at odds with each other through Sergeant Cuff’s interactions with the Verinder household.

Sergeant Cuff, although being specifically hired to sort out the matter of the Moonstone, is very much distrusted by various members of the household. Both Betteredge and Lady Verinder try very hard to refuse to believe Cuff could possibly be correct in his conclusion the diamond has been stolen from someone inside the house, or as it is later revealed that that Miss Rachel has possibly stolen her own diamond. Ff diamond had been stolen by an outside force, like the three Indians, who also have being radicalized others against them, perhaps Cuff would have been able to easily act as a public police force. But when he attempts to enter private household system that is already carefully policed and surveilled, and act as a police force, then he is rejected.

Cuff, however, seems to be aware of his position as an outsider and the lack of authority he maintains over this system of the home. In fact, he has worked on several occasions with externally policing “family scandals,” and knows how to negotiate within the family. He states, “I had a family scandal to deal with, which it was my business to keep within family limits. The less noise made, and the fewer strangers employed to help me, the better…I trouble [Lady Verinder] with these particulars to show you that I have kept the family secret within the family circle. I am the only outsider who knows it—and my professional existence depends on holding my tongue” (175). In order to be able to police, Cuff must relinquish his public power, and acknowledge that he is not interested in externally policing, but rather wants to act as a mediator in the pursuit of truth. There is no mentions of Rachel possibly being punished formally for her crime if she were to admit to it. Her punishment rather would likely rather be the possibility of her private crime becoming public, and the fallout of her social standing that would ensue. The private forms of policing have too much influence here, and in fact are able to potentially overcome the law.

Jane Eyre, Feminism, and Postcolonialism: It’s Probably More Complicated than That

Spivak’s argument rises out of a specific period of feminism that has certain concerns about the goals of feminism as a singular movement and its lack of inclusivity. Spivak, along with many feminist who identified with non-Western countries, began to feel that the idea of sisterhood among women, an idea that was prominent during the second wave, did not acknowledge the experiences of many non-Western women. Spivak’s argument that feminism and post-colonialism cannot exist together, then, stems from a very specific definition of feminism, that does not completely match feminism as it is understood today. The Transnational and then Third World feminist movements sought to account for this gap in the needs and experiences of the generally middle class, western, white women who dominated the feminist movement during the second wave and different needs and experiences of women of the global south. The popular feminism of today still struggles with issues of inclusivity, with the needs of non-white and non-western women often not being adequately or fairly represented. However, the problems that Spivak is acknowledging is one that is actively being tackled within feminism.

What does this mean, then, for Jane Eyre? I’m not entirely sure. Victorian women, in a way, were an origin point for the shoving aside the needs of non-white and non-western women for their own gain. During the period of British imperialism, particularly the colonization of India, Victorian women used the poor conditions and treatment of Indian women to advance their own conditions and treatment. If the uncivilized Indian women are subject to any variety of subjugating conditions, the argument went, civilized and sophisticated English women should clearly be above such savage treatment. Is this in a way what is going on in Jane Eyre? Is Jane’s feminist-ness being advanced in comparison to the savage-ness of Bertha? In a way, I guess so. But also, I feel like it’s still more complicated than that. But I think at its heart that is what Spivak was calling for. Post-colonialism and feminism are both incredibly complex areas of study that involve considering many different perspectives, while not valuing one perspective over another. Does Jane Eyre encourage us to value Jane’s perspective over Bertha’s? Perhaps. But, can we, in 2017, read Jane Eyre in a way that values Jane and Bertha’s perspectives equally? I think so. In fact, I think we are already trying to.

Plain Jane. Sane Jane. Never-Ever Vain Jane. How is She Constrained Jane?

Jane and Mr. Rochester’s relationship disintegrates at the end of book two. However, thinking back to before Rochester’s secret was exposed, I’d like to consider what his and Jane’s attraction and relationship truly built on, particularly in consideration of the gender expectations that are demonstrated in Mary Poovey’s Uneven Developments. Jane and Rochester are often said to be equals at several points throughout the book, but by looking at the way that Jane does and does not comply with gender roles, bigger questions about the power dynamics between Jane and Rochester are exposed.

As a child, Jane was stubborn and outspoken. As an adult, shit is still at time these things, or at least is told she is these things. Rochester often makes note of her unusual behavior, at one point admonishing her when she complains about the ideas of a man for his wife expressed in a song, stating “any other woman would have been melted into marrow at hearing such stanzas crooned in her praise” (Brontë, 270). However, in many instances, while she is headstrong, she is often headstrong with a determination to comply to her gendered and classed roles as a governess.

Poovey describes how women in the 19th century begin to be constructed as having a sort of ultimate maternal lover, which in scientific understandings is attributed to their reproductive nature. She describes how during the 19th century, the understanding of women’s roles is shifted from being sexual to needing to comply to a “domestic ideal” (10). Although she describes how the existence of governesses and other unmarried women complicates the roles of women in the domestic sphere. While governesses mother without being mothers, their unbridled sexuality poses a threat.

Jane, however, in many ways, despite the limbo role in which she exists as a governess is very adamant about sticking within the gendered role that a governess has. She acts as a mother to Adele, who adores her in return. For example, Jane insists upon Adele coming into town with her and Rochester, despite Rochester forbidding it. In a moment where gender roles and the power dynamics associated with them seem to be strongly in play, Jane describes, “I half lost the sense of power over him. I was about mechanically to obey him” (Brontë, 263). This demonstrates a moment in which Jane wants to defy her master, and seems to be refusing to adhere to gender roles. But, instead of doing anything to use her wit and intelligence to defy Rochester, she gets Rochester to give in by becoming pale and otherwise looking upset.

This example demonstrates the complex relationships of gender roles to power that exist in Jane Eyre. Jane later goes further to insist even after becoming engaged to maintain her position as governess. Although she is in many ways dismantling some of the ideology of gender at the time, particularly in considerations of the odd class positioning that governesses exist in, she also very strictly wants to adhere to roles of gender relating to maternity. And while she has power over Rochester because of her wit, she also has power over Rochester because of her need for protection and overall demure-ness. And still, even these observations seem to be a little reductive of all the variables of Jane’s and Rochester’s identities with consideration of the time period. But, still, that would still only further demonstrate the complexity of the construction of gender in Jane Eyre.

Defending Daisy Miller

In the fourth chapter of Henry James Daisy Miller, the narrator states, “[Winterbourne] felt very sorry for her—not because he believed that she had completely lost her head, but because it was painful to hear so much that was pretty and undefended and natural assigned to a vulgar place among the categories of disorder” (54). The keywords I want to focus on here are “pretty,” “undefended,” and “natural.” To really unpack the meaning of these words though, I would first like to make two considerations: one of perceptions of Daisy Miller in relation to gender and history, and the other of another a specific scene in which Daisy’s prettiness and rebelliousness is responded to.

While reading Daisy Miller, I instinctually want to defend Daisy against accusations of her having “lost her head” or any other accusation of there being something fundamentally wrong with her mentally. She does show signs of narcissism and can be manipulative, but from my standpoint as a feminist in the 21st century, I would like for the most part to consider Daisy as something more along the lines of a liberated woman. Of course, women’s liberation, in more formal movements, would not come for nearly another hundred years’ after the novel was published, and the first wave of feminism was only just starting to really blossom at the time. Any hey, in the 19th century, wanting to deviate from societal norms was generally enough for a person to be diagnosed with a mental illness or otherwise shunned or invalidated. Putting aside histories of feminism and mental illness, I bring this up because I want to make clear that I do not believe that Daisy is supposed to be a liberated character, nor that her lack of concern for societal norms is supposed to be read as a thing that other women should be striving to achieve. No matter how much my contemporary lens is willing to forgive Daisy Miller, she would not have been perceived in the time period the way I perceive her now.

But if Daisy’s liberated character is clearly not supposed to be read as a positive thing considering historical contexts, then why is Winterbourne so enamored with and forgiving of her? For a brief moment I hoped, rather naively, that perhaps James was simply ahead of his time and that he wrote Daisy Miller to advance sophisticated portrayals of women that position them outside of conventional roles. Daisy is after all a representation of a certain kind of woman that existed historical that can be contextualized and understood today within larger histories of gender construction. But when looking at the context of some of the interactions between Daisy and Winterbourne, almost all of which include an observation of her beauty, I discovered the less feminist reason for Winterbourne’s fixation on Daisy Miller.

In chapter three when Winterbourne meets Giovanelli for the first time, Giovanelli makes a comment on Daisy’s character and Daisy immediately chastises him. She claims, “I have never allowed a gentleman to dictate to me, or to interfere with anything I do” (40). Whether or not this statement is true is a debate for another time. What I want to examine is the way that Daisy is described when she makes this statement and its content in conjunction with Winterbourne’s response. Before she makes this statement, Daisy is described as having “eyes that were prettier than ever” (40). Winterbourne then responds, “I think that you have made a mistake. You should sometimes listen to a gentleman—the right one” (40). The implication of the combination of Daisy’s prettiness, her defiant statement, and Winterbourne’s immediate correction demonstrates that Winterbourne is willing to excuse, even appreciate, Daisy’s deviations from the societal norms because of her beauty. More importantly, however, he, in his position as a real gentleman of proper society, would is capable of reforming, or in a way saving, her, if only she would listen.

Returning to those three words mentioned earlier, “pretty,” “undefended,” and “natural,” it is now possible to understand these words more deeply. Daisy’s prettiness is one of her most notable qualities, and her beauty is what draws Winterbourne to her. However, she also presents a wildness, one that is “natural” for a woman who has not been taught and sheltered properly (by a proper gentleman) to present. She has also not been properly defended, i.e. she does not have someone of proper society like Winterbourne to vouch for her in appropriate ways. A relationship between Daisy and Winterbourne would in a way, then, save Daisy. But if she were to accept such a thing, would she really be Daisy Miller anymore?

Madame Defarge and the Flies: Knitting it Together

In the chapter “Still Knitting,” the image of flies occurs for the second time. Just in case you had forgotten this, though, Dickens reminds the reader, “Curious to consider how heartless flies are!– Perhaps they thought as much at the Court that summer day” (173). The summer day Dickens is referring to occurred in Chapter 3 of the second book, “A Disappointment,” in which there were blue-flies present during Charles Darnay’s trial for treason. The people watching the trial are compared to the flies, who are “carnivorous” (75). The flies, then, reflect how the people have become eager for the blood of others to be spilled.

As Madame Defarge sits knitting in the wine shop, a hoard of flies nearby one by one fall into some wine and die. This reoccurrence of the flies in a way characterizes them to a similar end, as they are definitively once again being compared to people. This time, however, we are in France instead of England. The lesson however is roughly the same. The flies this time are characterized as a bit more blasé, but still they are curious observers, in pursuit of wine but ignorant to the destruction that wine is bringing to the other flies as they fall into it. Dickens writes, “Their decease made no impression on the other flies out promenading, who looked at them in the coolest manner (as if they themselves were elephants, or something far removed)” (173). The flies’ previous symbolism, in combination with the symbolism that wine has also previously carried in “The Wine Shop,” makes it clear that this passage is blatantly foreshadowing the futures of the people of France, who currently applaud the executions of others, but will one day face the same fate.

Besides the message inscribed symbolically within the text, this passage finds success in the language it uses to paint the scene, and also peeks curiosity with the inclusion of Madame Defarge tied into it. The passage includes lots of language that expresses ambivalence or indifference, as was described previously. The flies are “heedless” and have “the coolest manner” (173). Madame Defarge however, as she watches over the flies, has a “pre-occupied air” (172). While the passage very clearly foreshadows that anyone who thinks themselves above the death they welcome upon others risks facing their own demise, this warning is not at first applied to any of the novels characters specifically. However, although Dickens offers plenty of symbolism that reflects people’s behavior in Revolution, by looking at the positioning of these moments, it is possible to discern more plot based characterization of the implications of these moments. Madame Defarge is herself, with her air of ambivalence, positioned at the top of the paragraph that contains a description of flies, that clearly symbolize people, who in their ambivalence, are doomed to die. It seems only fair then, to wonder if it is not just people in general whose ambivalence towards the fates of others will be their destruction, but if this lesson applies to Madame Defarge specifically.