Class Blog

Alice’s real fear

In class we’ve talked a lot about Alice growing and her desire to stay a child. At the beginning of Through the Looking-Glass Alice is talking to her cat about punishment and utters, “suppose each punishment was to be going without a dinner: then, when the miserable day came, I should have to go without fifty dinners at once! Well, I shouldn’t mind that much! I’d far rather go without them than eat them!” (116) One reason this statement is problematic is simply because one needs food in order to live. A second reason that this is an important part is that it makes evident Alice’s hopes to not grow, and perhaps shows her desire to avoid being nourished in a sexual way. Though it is not stated directly that the food eaten for these dinners would be sweet, the idea of fifty dinners is a whole lot of food. Eating that would be like a desperate attempt to satisfy some sort of desire. After experiencing quite unpredictable growth in the first half of the book, it makes sense that Alice is scared to become bigger and maybe even outgrow her home. Shortly after that statement, Alice speaks to the kitten about the weather. She says, “Do you hear the snow against the window-panes, Kitty? How nice and soft it sounds! […] I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, ‘Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.’ And when they wake up in the summer, Kitty, they dress themselves all in green, and dance about — whenever the wind blows — oh, that’s very pretty” (116-17). There are a lot of different things going on in this passage. First, the fact that she likes that the trees wake up in a changed state, as green beings, reveals something that our assumptions about her may have gotten wrong. Perhaps it’s not the actual act of growing up that Alice is afraid of, maybe she is moreso afraid of the rapid speed at which this growing is taking place. The fact that Alice enjoys the uncontrollable weather, the snow, further suggests that she is not afraid of the inevitable change her body is going through. Adding to this argument her enjoyment that arises about the trees sleeping for such a long time, through a whole spring season. This insinuates that it is, in fact, the rate at which she will experience this change that terrifies her.

A second part of this passage that, when examined, reveals Alice’s beliefs is the banal idea of whiteness representing purity. Snow is the white quilt that would hypothetically cover the trees as they sleep and mature into changed beings. As they emerge into the summer season, the snow is gone. This loss of snow could represent a loss of purity. It is as if snow’s kiss is a goodbye to a young Alice; she is undergoing a change that dictates the rest of her life.

Fairies, Freud, and Prostitution: The Body as a Commodity in “Goblin Market” and Supernatural

At first glance, the poem “Goblin Market” by Christina Rossetti and the Supernatural episode S6E9 “Clap Your Hands If You Believe” (hereafter CYHIYB) tell very different stories. “Goblin Market” describes the tale of a woman tempted by goblins to buy their (sexual) fruit, and her sister’s heroic (and virginal) act of resisting the goblins’ advances while obtaining the fruit juice her sister needs to survive. In CYHIYB, brothers Sam and Dean are trying to solve multiple disappearances in a town that are attributed to UFOs, but the boys discover fairies are responsible after Dean is abducted.

Digging deeper, both Laura and Dean are changed by their experiences: Laura “dwindled, as the fair full moon doth turn/To swift decay” (Rossetti, 8) and Dean returns from his abduction able to see fairies while others can’t (see strongly-PG-13-rated scene below):

[youtube_sc url=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vS3mH5d8SNQ”]

Both characters were involved in the selling/trading of bodies. Laura buys fruit for a “clipped…golden lock” (Rossetti, 4) of hair, selling a piece of her body in exchange for the magical fruit, and Dean is taken by the fairies as part of the deal they made with a local shopkeeper, a tithe in exchange for their working for him:

MR. BRENNAN: I asked him just to cure my hands, but he said he would do even better. He would make me more successful than I had ever been. He told me he’d bring a crew of workers, that I could save my business, save my name.
SAM: In exchange for?
BRENNAN: He just wanted a place for them to rest, to take of the fruit and fat of the land. I said yes. I wasn’t thinking.
SAM: And the fruit and the fat was?
BRENNAN: My firstborn. Not just mine. There’s been others. They’re not stopping. They’re not going to stop. (source)

Both stories involve fairies dealing in the trading of bodies, whether seducing the person into willingly participating, like Laura, or unwillingly “taken to service Oberon, the King of the Faery” as Dean is (source). In both cases the trading of bodies is incredibly sexualized – Laura’s very sexual pleasure in eating the fruit (Rosetti, 4) and Dean describing “being pulled to a sort of table,” and Sam interrupts with “Probing table!” This is followed by the already-mentioned theory of Dean being taken to sexually service King Oberon.

The fairies are intertwined with selling sexual pleasure and bodies – in other words, fairies are involved in prostitution. As we’ve seen in the “Prostitution” article we read for class, for a sexually repressed society there were a multitude of prostitutes able to make a living, estimates ranging from 20,000-80,000 within the article. Assumed prostitutes were treated to “lewd suggestions” based on appearance, according to the article. So if these prostitutes were so disgusting, yet often managed to make a tidy sum, where does that leave the terrifying, dangerous, seductive fairies? What makes them so much more dangerous than the others involved in the trading and selling of bodies?

Thinking about it from a Freudian perspective, fairies unashamedly take what they want, seduce who they want and suffer no repercussions: they are able to act on these deep, dark desires that Victorians would have but be unable to act upon; the Victorians could displace their dark desires onto these “other” creatures. Thus, the fairies are terrifying, not only for their actions of kidnapping and seducing, but also for what they represent: shamelessly indulging in one’s dark and sexual fantasies.

Works Cited: Rosetti, Christina. Goblin Market and Other Poems. Dover Thrift Editions. New York: Dover Publications, 1994. Print.

The Depiction of Culture in Victorian Art

Salammbo

I was immediately drawn to this image the moment I walked into the trout gallery during out last class. I am interested in the way in which the exotic was portrayed as something dangerous and threatening within this image. The contrasting colors of the pearly whiteness of the woman’s skin being overtaken by the contrasting dark snake is one of the many ways in which shading within this image seems to represent racial sentiments. The fact that the man in the background is watching this happen and blends into the background furthers this feeling of uneasiness and danger that is often associated with “the other” during the Victorian Era. I believe this shading is intentional for the author’s hopes to convey the danger of the exotic and other cultures.

I think it is important to analyze the artist’s choice of using a snake within this image. Snakes have the connotation of being evil, stealth, and sneaky. These connotations go as far back as the bible, whereas the snake tricked Eve into committing sin and giving into temptation. Thus, snakes generally represent deceit and allurement. One thing I didn’t think of upon looking at this image but that was brought up by a peer was the sensuality of  the woman’s face. In the image, the snake seems to be seducing the woman almost, while also constricting her. Perhaps this was meant to induce fear amongst viewers of other cultures being dangerous, exotic, and having the ability to tempt the innocent to sin.

Another aspect of this image I found to be very interesting was Professor Flaherty’s explanation that this picture depicted a sort of mash up of different cultures. The walls, the clothing of the man, the instrument, the materials; all belong to separate cultures. I believe that this indicated the tendency for Victorian peoples to lump ‘exotic’ cultures together into one ‘other.’ This seems to indicate that people of this time do not necessarily care about these cultures and their characteristics and uniqueness, but rather sees them as all the same, exemplifying the very definition of egocentrism.

All in all, this image represents both the fear of Victorians towards the exotic and their lack of education on the subject. This is just a theory, but at a time where travel and communication between people from across the world was very uncommon, the exotic or the ‘others’ likely became something of mystery. Tales of explorers may have reached those who have never left the country, but these tend to be exaggerated and changed through word of mouth. Furthermore, people tend to be afraid of things they don’t understand. Thus, this image represents both the fear of the exotic and the lack of knowledge on other cultures.

Look!  More Victorian Ghosts

Source: But it looks so real! The parallel rise of photography and Spiritualism

In 1862, amateur photographer William H. Mumler of Boston took a self-portrait in his studio, unaware of a ghostly apparition lurking directly behind him. It wasn’t until he viewed the resulting image…

Hablot Knight Browne, The London Stereoscopic Company; The Ghost in the stereoscope; 1856 - 1859. Image and original data provided by Rijksmuseum: https://www.rijksmuseum.nl

Hablot Knight Browne, The London Stereoscopic Company; The Ghost in the stereoscope; 1856 – 1859. Image and original data provided by Rijksmuseum: https://www.rijksmuseum.nl

 

Women and Pets as Domestic Objects

The print “Fannie’s Pets” captured my eye as it appears to be one of the most dynamic prints in the way the subjects appear to be moving, and who doesn’t adore the cute animals? The print features a woman outside, perhaps in a small garden, interacting with many species of birds: parakeets, ducks, a rooster, a peacock, etc. The light shines upon her and the animals so the audience’s attention immediately is drawn to those subjects. Behind the woman, on the left of the print, is a man crouched down in the dark, observing her.

This print brings to mind the role of Count Fosco in The Woman in White and his interaction with women and animals. The woman in the print seems to be interacting with the animals very naturally, while Count Fosco’s interactions with his pets are very strategic due to his training of them. He gives his pets treats when they perform to his satisfaction. He goes as far to call his birds his “children” (270). Count Fosco also gives his wife treats as she gives him his cigarettes which seems to parallel his treatment of his pets. He does not seem to have much of a sense of humanity or intimacy, instead his wife and his pets are objects of enjoyment and entertainment who are rewarded for how they serve him.

“Fannie’s Pets” creates a discourse with The Woman in White that shows the roles of women and domesticated animals to be more similar than different under the observation and manipulation of a Victorian Man. From the male view (assuming the audience takes on the viewership of a man or uses the man in the work itself), the main subject of the print is a woman and her pets and their values are both in their inherent beauty and entertainment-value. When the image is read through the lens created by The Woman in White, the woman and her pets are just objects to be manipulated and observed for enjoyment. There is further symbolism in the image of the birds flying and grabbing the garments of the woman, and while it might be a playful action, it seems to also represent freedom. Birds have the ability to fly away and the woman does not. Yet, this brings light to the captivating qualities that Count Fosco has over women and his manipulative nature towards his pets and women which really leave no opportunity for freedom.

You Don’t Own Me – Ownership and the Female Body

In Christina Rossetti’s poem, In an Artist’s Studio, we are guided around the studio of a painter who has depicted the same model as different characters. She becomes the queen, the virgin in a green dress, a saint, and an angel, but remains nameless throughout. The problem here is not just that the nameless girl remains nameless, but also that her body is used and objectified by this artist. She is no longer a person, but an aesthetic subject that is to be manipulated into a trope. Like Jen Marsh is quoted in Lee’s article “The Femme Fatale as Object”:

women are rendered decorative, depersonalized; they become passive figures rather than characters in a story or drama… women are reduced to an aesthetic arrangement of sexual parts, for male fantasies. (Marsh, The Pre-Raphaelite Sisterhood)

Sure, the model is lovely, but that’s all she is. She is a passive figure to be manipulated in the way the artist wishes she could be. The depersonalization of women figures into tropes is too common, and in terms of Victorian literature, it is inherently connected to sexuality. The well-known trope of the Femme Fatale is played out in another poem: My Last Duchess.

In Browning’s My Last Duchess, the Duke is narrating a story about his last Duchess, who is depicted in a painting that he keeps behind a curtain. In the Duke’s eyes, she fulfills the trope of Femme Fatale because she finds pleasure in being looked upon and speaking with men other than him. He sees that she smiles at everyone, and does not value him over everyone else. The Fatale part comes into play when he seemingly murders her to keep her from smiling at everyone, and now keeps her behind the curtain. In this instance, her sexuality is totally under the control of the Duke for the rest of eternity: only he can look upon the “spot of joy” on her cheeks.

Like Marsh and Lee assert in the essay, the Duchess is literally reduced to aesthetic parts – the painting to look upon and then move on from to other paintings. She no longer has agency – she is trapped in a painting, posed beautifully forever. The Femme Fatale is fascinating only because of what she used to be, the amalgam of fear over “female malevolence” and therefore, a control over her own sexuality. Now, as an object, she can be controlled and fascinate her onlookers on command.

Victorian Prostitutes: Alone and Palely Loitering

Katheryn Hughes claims that during the Victorian Era, “A young girl was not expected to focus too obviously on finding a husband. Being ‘forward’ in the company of men suggested a worrying sexual appetite. Women were assumed to desire marriage because it allowed them to become mothers rather than to pursue sexual or emotional satisfaction (Hughes, Gender Roles in the 19th Century).” However, the societal standard of sexual purity and a lack of carnal desires did not exist for men during the 19th century. In fact, many men would pay for a prostitute’s services because they [these men] were eager to bed and not looking to wed. Yet, even married men would stray from their wives in search of sensual satisfaction from their standard village entrepreneur (prostitutes are really strategic opportunists if you think about it.) With the boom of this business, came the clap… and other sexually transmitted diseases that forced the Victorians to think about intercourse as a danger rather than a harmless recreational activity.

Correspondingly, the female body was mystifying to artists and poets most likely because it was uncommon for a woman to present herself in an overtly suggestive manner. Fascinatingly enough, the19th century definition of “prostitute” did not only describe women who sold their bodies, but it was also used to label “women who were living with men outside of marriage, women who had illegitimate children, or women who had relations with men solely for pleasurable purposes and not for monetary gain (Flanders, Prostitution).” Nevertheless, women were often mistaken for prostitutes (corporeal entrepreneurs) because men would misinterpret social cues. Remarkably, a man wrote to the Times magazine in 1862 to complain that his daughters were being hassled by “lewd scoundrels” in the streets; In the same way that the 21st century handles jeering and cat-calling, the man’s concerned comment was met with a series of men who suggested that perhaps “the girls’ dress or behavior had encouraged the men (Flanders, Prostitution).”

Similarly, La Belle Dame sans Merci by John Keats discusses a knight-at-arms who is “alone” and “palely loitering.” The knight says that the “harvest’s done” and that the “sedge has withered from the lake” which both sound like euphemisms for dwindling sexual prowess as a result of infertility represented by the barren harvest and an inability to ejaculate which is represented by withering sedge near an uninspiring lake. Furthermore, the knight meets a woman with wild eyes and long hair who makes a “sweet moan” when he places a garland on her head as he continues to “set her on [his] pacing steed.” However, once the sexual encounter between the knight and the beautiful lady finishes, the knight realizes that he has been deserted on a cold hill side where he can see other “pale kings and princess [who are] death-pale.” Keats details the “starved lips” of the other men and ends with a discussion about the sedge that has withered from the lake, which is most likely the result of a sexually transmitted disease. Yet, it is unclear whether the last four lines of the poem suggest that the woman is left, like a prostitute, “Alone and palely loitering, Though the sedge is withered from the lake, and no birds sing.”

Indeed, all of the men fall victim to their own desires and they pay for services that could endanger their health. This poem seems like a didactic tale that warns the public about prostitutes or other sexually liberated women. Yet, I wonder whether the Victorian men are afraid of female sexuality or if they are actually afraid of their own lack of self-control? It’s probably the former.

Expectation and What We’ve Come to Expect

Illman Brothers. "Expectation." Trout Gallery, http://www.troutgallery.org/
Illman Brothers. “Expectation.” Trout Gallery, http://www.troutgallery.org/

In the Illman Brothers’ “Expectation,” the female subject’s clothing loses shape the further away from her face you go, making it clear that her visage is the main focus of the work. Looking expectant is hard to visualize, in my opinion. It’s a trait you see in domesticated pets or in children who are waiting for gifts or fun outings. Maybe the woman is waiting patiently for the artist illustrating her to be finished more than anything else. Though, it’s not hard to deduce that Victorian women lead less active lifestyles than their male counterparts, especially those belonging to a higher class. The background appears almost amorphous; I interpret a sun surrounding the top of her head, either sky or clouds going down to her shoulders, a muted horizon to the right of her, and reflecting water. She must be waiting for her significant other to return from somewhere, as she has her hands (or at least her left hand) placed over her chest.

At the Trout Gallery, we briefly discussed the intricate ornamentation framing the portrait. The ovular shape of the frame suggests a mirror, highlighting the motif of the “woman as object” aesthetic that male artists go gaga for. And this one in particular is a sensual plaything, a fantasy. Grapes and cherubs (or whatever those angel babies are called) holding what looks like martini glasses only enhance the mood. I am of course reminded of Walter falling in love with Laura while making her his muse in the beginning of The Woman in White, as well as a more fragile Laura hoping for him to return from his errands when she loses her memory. The image also reminds me of a couple of lines from Christina Rossetti’s “In an Artist’s Studio”: “We found her hidden just behind those screens, / That mirror gave back all her loveliness” (3-4). The man who gazes at this etching is meant to siphon that loveliness (longing, yet perfectly poised) to feed his desire, to spurn him on.

Delicate, Fair and Naive–but Beautiful?

Two points about the connections between the picture above, Feeding the Motherless, by the Illman Brothers, and The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins.

One, her face. Not that she isn’t beautiful–although it would be truthful to note that her face is not crafted to the perfect subtle beauties in some of the other prints. Her eyes have a little strangeness to them in the way they droop, and her lips lack the perfect delicate fullness of, perhaps, the one in Expectation.

Yet from her neck down, there is little, if at all, one could point out to be at fault. The somewhat simple dress (of all colors, white) traces the graceful shape made by her figure, and the fabric of her dress makes slight creases about her arms. And even more so, her hands are crafted to perfection. The one holding the spoon has the most elegant curves, the fingers bending tenderly, and the other holds the nest at a becoming angle. Both are softly shaded.

This reminded me, in fact, of the female characters of The Woman in White. Marian is described to have a very becoming figure, then an ugly face, for one. (With a mustache, hence my pseudonym) Laura Fairlie, more interestingly, is described more on the basis of her body than her face also. It is her bosom and her ribbons that brush against Walter Harwright and make his heart beat, not, for example, her full lips or her wide, sparkling eyes. It makes me wonder, then, if Laura was actually the perfect beauty at all. Perhaps in the standards of the time, she was so well adorned by her figure, her white dress, her passive loving nature and her status as an heiress that she didn’t need those pearly teeth and long eyelashes at all. The only person described to be handsome regarding the face was actually Count Fosco–the increasingly feminine male villain with beautiful eyes.

The second thing I noticed about the picture was still about the face. I don’t take any problem with the distance it has from the “classic beauty,” at all. But something about her expression is still troubling. The woman in the picture doesn’t actually seem to be looking at the baby birds. Her gaze lies somewhere between then and us, the viewer. What is she looking at? We don’t get to find out, but only that she isn’t really concentrating on the task. Is she “feeding the motherless” because she wants to? Despite being engaged in what must surely be a very maternal, loving action, her expression yields no tenderness, no affection or pity at all. This is, to say the least, troubling. What’s going on in her mind…?

I wonder if this is, in a way, also a connection to Laura Fairlie. We never get to find out her thoughts, and never get to hear her voice. Although we didn’t get many hints on whether she was actually not what the people around her thought her to be, it is true that the narrators (especially Walter Hartwright) may have consciously and unconsciously manipulated the story to reflect their own perceptions.

I also wonder if Laura cared about animals all that much. Count Fosco (again) was the one who was good with animals, and Marian was the person who took care of Mrs. Catherick’s wounded dog until its death. Laura Fairlie too had a dog, which strangely disappeared after her marriage and she didn’t seem to look for it… The image of the tender-hearted naive beauty who sings with her birds, then, may not be Laura Fairlie either.

 

Illman Brothers. “Feeding the Motherless.” Trout Gallery, 
http://www.troutgallery.org/

Count Fosco and The Prostitute

When initially looking at the chaos and crude happenings in the engraving titled “Mixing A Recipe for Corns”, I could not help but think of the main character in the image as a strange reflection of our dear Count Fosco in The Woman in White. Just as Count Fosco keeps a constant flurry of animals around him at all times, the woman in the engraving is surrounded by an uncomfortable number of little animals or animal references (such as peacock feathers). There even appears to be a cockatoo in the image, just as Count Fosco had a cockatoo, “a most vicious and treacherous bird towards towards every one else” (219). In the photo the wild animals add to the sense of frenzy and lack of control this woman has in her declining youth, whereas in The Woman in White, Count Fosco’s animals serve to show his desire for control, which highlights how a multitude of animals could be seen in contrasting lights based on the gender of who is controlling them.

I also noticed a similarity to Count Fosco in the subject of the engraving. The declining prostitute, who is wildly stirring a cauldron with one hand, is a bit gender ambiguous. I, at first, mistook the subject for a man, as the hair is tied away and the facial features err on the more manly side. Count Fosco also seems to have more feminine traits at times, such as his elaborate clothing and how he moves about a room, “he is as noiseless in a room as any of us woman” (219). In regards to the engraving, the prostitute is also the most colorful, and the viewer’s eyes are drawn to her and her activities instantly. This hearkens to the characters in the story, even Marian, who are inevitably drawn to this figure of Count Fosco. We discussed in the Trout Gallery that the prostitute seems almost witch-like, with her cauldron on the fire and bottles of potions thrown on the table and around her feet. This relates to Count Fosco’s obsession with alternative medicine, and all the references we have to his likeness for poison. Thus like the woman in the etching, it’s easy to picture Count Fosco deviously mixing a concoction of flowers and herbs to use against the other characters in the book.

Why did I spend so long pointing out the strange similarities between the prostitute in “Mixing A Recipe for Corns” and Count Fosco’s character in The Woman in White? I find it interesting that while these two people have many similar qualities, habits, and affinities, one is a withering prostitute who will spend her life teaching other women to learn how to degrade themselves to men and the other is a formidable man who has an immense amount of authority and respect. This just seems to highlight the influence of gender within the time period, and how males can flourish while holding the same characteristics of females, or in this case, a frumpy, old prostitute.

 

Cruikshank, George. Mixing a Recipe for Corns. 1835. Trout Gallery, Carisle. http://collections.troutgallery.org/Obj22845?sid=59379&x=621534. Web. 11 Oct 2016.