Class Blog

One significant aspect of Christina Rossetti’s “Goblin Market” that sets it apart from other Victorian poems we have read so far is its portrayal of a functional relationship between two women. “The Blessed Damozel,” “The Lady of Shalott,” “My Last Duchess,” and “In an Artist’s Studio” have all explicitly stated the genders of the two main participants in the action of the poems; invariably, they have featured a man and a woman. In most of these poems, with the possible exception of “In an Artist’s Studio,” the man and woman are involved in a heterosexual romantic relationship. In contrast, “Goblin Market” portrays two sisters living and working together in harmony.

While the relationship between Laura and Lizzie is established as sisterly, there are several instances during the poem in which Rossetti hints at a deeper connection between the two women. For example, early on in the poem, Laura and Lizzie “[crouch] close together… / With clasping arms and cautioning lips / With tingling cheeks and finger tips.” Later, as the sisters fall asleep, the poem describes them as “Cheek to cheek and breast to breast / Locked together in one nest.” This language redefines the relationship between the sisters as something more romantic and intimate.

Perhaps the most convincing indication of the sisters’ relationship as romantic partners is seen in the final stanza of the poem. While the lines “when both were wives / With children of their own” seem to indicate a very traditional ending to the poem in which both women marry into separate families, the conspicuous lack of any mention of their husbands can suggest another conclusion. Instead, it can be interpreted that the women act as wives to each other, forming an unconventional family unit between themselves and their children. This reimagined family, while atypical for the Victorian era, reflects an arguably stronger and more successful romantic relationship than the other poems we have read so far. Instead of the unequal power dynamic seen in “My Last Duchess” and “In an Artist’s Studio,” or the yearned-for but unrealistic relationships of “The Lady of Shalott” and “The Blessed Damozel,” Laura and Lizzie are a functional couple, living and raising children in mutual admiration and respect.

 

During the Victorian Era, women were considered unnecessary. Many women were not valued and thought of in a negative way. This concept is depicted in William Greg’s article “Why are Women Redundant?” At one point he states, “there is an enormous and increasing number of single women in the nation, a number quite disproportionate and quite abnormal” (158) and “[women] who remain unmarried constitute the problem to be solved, the evil and anomaly to be cured” (159). These ideas reflect the overall ideas of Victorian societies. Many believed married women were responsible for domestic duties, and had no real responsibilities other than these. Unmarried women, on the other hand, were viewed as burdens, as people who did nothing other than get in the way and cause harm.

Many of these ideas were portrayed through Victorian art and literature. Eugene Gaujean depicts the notion that certain women can be nuisances in the print “The Two Friends”. In the print there is a cat sitting on a chair next to reading glasses, knitting materials, and a crumpled newspaper. Cats are often considered feminine pets and associated with females, much like the concepts of knitting and reading. These all are reflective of feminine, domestic activities. If the cat represents the common Victorian women at the time, it shows how women were restricted to common household activities, many of which were scoffed at. However, if the cat were to represent unmarried Victorian women, it shows how they were often times in the way of others. The cat is sitting directly in the middle of the chair where typically a woman would be sitting. Not only does the cat replace the woman in this sense, but is also shown prohibiting work from being accomplished. Woman, often times, were considered inconvenient, much like the cat in the print.

Upon viewing Gaujean’s etching, “The Apparition” the Victorian Femme Fatale comes to mind. The sensual depiction of Solome is one that can be paralleled to the Femme Fatale as described by Jan Marsh[1], “She allows that artists gazed, fascinated but repelled, at women of a curious frigidity, cold but sensual, erotic but invulnerable.” Solome’s “cold but sensual” stance and searing gaze at St. John is one that fully embodies the Femme Fatale, as she is depicted standing erect with her hands reaching out to posses St. John. Additionally, Solome is portrayed as “invulnerable” because she holds the most power out of everyone for having just summoned St. John’s head on a platter. However, Solome defies Marsh’s “boiled down” Femme Fatale. Discussed by Marsh, “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.” The depiction and story behind Solome is not one consistent to Marsh’s definition. Solome’s dance that she performs in order to be granted a wish, St. John’s head, not only fulfills the male desire but it also fulfills her own desire. Yes, Solome is sexually objectified as she uses a dance to coax her stepfather, but she does it knowingly so. Her sexual objectification is not used solely to fulfill “male fantasies” but fulfills her own desires as well. Additionally, Solome’s intense gaze at St. John, rather than at the viewers observing the etching, protects her own authority over her own self and body.

The story behind the etching displays a kind of sexual advocacy not seen before. The fact that Solome utilizes societal objectification of her body in her favor is very interesting. I believe that this image could have really inspired Victorian women to cultivate their sexual influence over the patriarchy.

 

 

[1] http://www.victorianweb.org/gender/object.html

Robert Browning’s poem “My Last Duchess” typifies the concept of the femme fatale in several ways. Elizabeth Lee states that the femme fatale in artwork occasioned scopophilia in two ways, of “the artist upon his nude or clothed model” and also of “the viewer upon the art object” (“The Femme Fatale as Object”). In this poem, the last duchess becomes this art object. We see the first instance of scopophilia in the depiction of Frà Pandolf, and the second in the speaker’s continued obsession over the painting.

That the artist gains some pleasure from painting the speaker’s late wife is evidenced by the speaker’s imagined exchange between the painter and his subject: “‘Paint / ‘Must never hope to reproduce the faint / ‘Half-flush that dies along her throat:’ such stuff / Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough / For calling up that spot of joy” (17-21). Lee observes that the depiction of female subjects as the femme fatale “not only objectified the woman, but also dismembered her body and her identity” (“Femme Fatale”). The femme fatale thus becomes formulaic, reduced to her womanly characteristics. This is perhaps most obviously demonstrated by Rossetti in “In An Artist’s Studio,” where the subject is recreated over and over again in paintings that all hold the same meaning. However, in “My Last Duchess” we also get a similar sense that this woman is one in a progression of many. The title itself, “My Last Duchess” perhaps suggests that the woman depicted in the painting was not the first to have married the speaker and met this fate, but perhaps just the “last” one to have done so. Furthermore, the speaker tells his companion that the Count’s “fair daughter’s self, as I avowed / At starting, is my object” (52-53). The proximity of this line to “Notice Neptune…thought a rarity” shows that the speaker is a collector of the beautiful, and that the “last duchess” depicted in the painting is just one of a collection of “rarities” (54-55).

Lee also asserts that the femme fatale held “a certain amount of power over the viewer, who is enthralled with fascination” (“Femme Fatale”). In the poem, though we suspect that the speaker exaggerates  much about the woman’s behavior, it is suggested that she was admired by many and was generous with her affections. The speaker tells us she thanked other men “as if she ranked / My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name / With anybody’s gift” (32-34). This “fascination” that many seemed to have with her further solidifies the woman’s position as femme fatale, and we can see the effect of the female gaze.

Thus, if we apply Lee’s thoughts on the femme fatale to Browning’s poem, we can see that the “last duchess” has many of the features of a femme fatale, and her preservation in artwork and the pleasure that others take from viewing her demonstrates the scopophilia that Lee defines. Lastly, we see that because the speaker retains this painting of the duchess, his “attempts to conquer” the femme fatale have failed (“Femme Fatale”).

The woman depicted in The Apparation by Gustave Moreau seems to be a femme fatale. The painting’s focus on the woman, her exotic outfit and her bare skin creates an erotic impression, and the murder of John the Baptist suggests that her sexuality is what makes her dangerous. The depictions of the woman’s sexuality also reminds me of the woman in The Lady of Shalott by Alfred Tennyson, and how she was punished by death for acting upon her sexual feelings. Therefore, the women in The Apparation and The Lady of Shalott are depicted as dangerous because of their sexuality, which suggests that the 19^th century attitudes towards women’s sexuality were that it should be suppressed, and the ideal woman was pious and a virgin.

As the woman is in the foreground in The Apparation, the observer’s focus is drawn to her. The woman’s body seems to be “put together:” She has a long, bare leg, an upper body which accentuates her breasts, and a long, sensuous neck. The portrayal of the woman therefore reminds me of “the male gaze,” as sensual parts of her body are put in focus. However, as the jewelry that drapes her body suggests that she has monetary value, her sexuality has associations to a prostitute. In the background, a man sits on a throne, which could be her father. Since he is in the background and depicted as passive, and the woman appears to not have a husband, the patriarchy seems to be defied. Therefore, the painting suggests that sexually active women are a threat to the patriarchy. Furthermore, since it seems that the woman ordered the murder of John the Baptist, sexually active women were also a threat to religion – or more specifically Christianity – and shows the ideal of pious women, who are virgins until marriage. The walls of the room have ornamental decorations, and the clothing of the people in the room give me associations to East-Asian countries. Therefore, the painting seems to stereotype women of the East, and suggests that they, and their active sexuality, are a danger to the West, Christianity and patriarchy.

The femme fatale in The Apparition reminds me of the woman in The Lady of Shalott. Though she is not depicted exactly the same way as the woman in the painting, the poem shows the same ideal that women should suppress their sexuality: “A curse is on her if she stay / To look down to Camelot” (135). As Camelot is where men are, the “curse” suggests that she cannot act upon her sexual feelings. However, as she did look and died as a result from it, she was punished for longing for a man, which shows the ideal that women should “wait” while men “seek.” Therefore, while the woman in the painting is a femme fatale and dangerous because she is sexual, the woman in the poem was “turning into” a femme fatale by acting on her sexuality, and was punished for it by death.

Christina Rossetti seems to imply in her poem In the Artist’s Studio, that women are portrayed in art they are no longer themselves but a projection of the male fantasy that surrounds her. Her accusation of art as a means to deprive women of their individuality will be examined here through the portrayal first of Laura from the Women in White, as described through Walter’s painting.

Laura is described first through the lens of Walter’s watercolor of her. He asks readers to “Think of her, as you thought of the first women who quickened the pulse within you that the rest of her sex could not stir.” (Collins 52). This description is the most potent in demonstrating the uniformity of women through the eyes of male art. Laura is not her own person but rather a conglomeration of all the aspects of a woman that bring out “sensations” in men. He describes Laura as “matchless, music[al], and airy” even going so far as to say, “Take her as the visionary nursling of your own fancy; and she will grow upon you…as the living woman who dwells in mine.” (Collins 52). Christina Rossetti would likely roll her eyes to this romanticization of a woman to the point of potentially falsifying her appearance and almost certainly falsifying who she is as a person.

Walter’s initial portrayal of Laura becomes problematic as the story continues. As Laura becomes more ill “with sorrow dim” rather than shining “hope… bright[ly].” (Rossetti 12-13). Walter’s love for her seems to become less certain for her. There seems to be a shift in his unyielding romantic language surrounding Laura at the beginning to an almost piteous treatment of her towards the end of the novel. This shift almost seems to imply that Walter would rather be in love with his own painting of Laura than Laura herself, the thing which Christina Rossetti seems to be critiquing. Christina Rossetti, though critical, does not seem to imply a consequence to standardizing female figures in paintings. Could we, as readers, use the outcome of Laura’s changed relationship with Walter and Walter’s altered perspective of Laura as examples of consequences?   

In Christina Rossetti’s Goblin Market, sisters Lizzie and Laura have two very different experiences with the “goblin men” selling fruit. These goblins are described in very animalistic terms, often having tails, fur or claws. They are dark, and don’t walk, but tramp or scurry. In most ways they are different from the two sisters. However, the relationship the goblins have with each other is oddly similar to the relationship of the sisters. On page 474, the goblins are described separately “One had a cat’s face/ One whisked a tail/ One tramped at a rat’s pace/ One crawled like a snail” etc. However, when the goblins act they do so “all together” (474). This contrast of multiplicity and oneness is repeated with the recurrence of the phrase they [action] all together. Laura and Lizzie, while they often behave very differently, are described as together or somehow linked. When they sleep they are “Like two blossoms on one stem/ Like two flakes of new fall’n snow/ Like two wands of ivory”(478). While I don’t think the relationship the goblins have is comparable to the relationship of Lizzie and Laura, I think it’s interesting how the relationships that people or beings have with each other is used to define the individual. Because of their larger identity goblin or girl, their more individual identities- Laura, Lizzie, snail, cat- are erased. In the last stanza of the poem most of the, for lack of a better word, characters are identified by their larger identity: “fruit-merchant men”, and “wives” or “sister,” except for Laura (488). Is she identified because she has become the new Jeanie—the warning to stay within your prescribed roles? But what if instead Laura has her identity because she ate the goblins’ fruit? Is there something about her journey ‘through’ the fruit and back to life that allows her to claim herself?

The etching of the cat sitting in Eugene Gaujean’s The Two Friends instantly reminded me of Count Fosco’s manipulative and feminine characteristics. The cat is usually associated with femininity, nimbleness, and prowess, and the Count exhibits these traits throughout The Woman in White. For instance, Marian first describes the Count, “fat as he is, and old as he is, his movements are astonishingly light and easy. He is as noiseless in a room as any of us women, and more than that, with all his look of unmistakable power, he is as nervously sensitive as the weakest of us” (Collins 219). Marian’s description of the Count in this passage is quite feminine and feline-like. He moves with silent grace, as a cat does before it attacks its prey, and Marian compares this noiselessness to that of a woman. Although the cat in the etching is small, it upholds a massive presence that mirrors the presence of the Count, whom is fat, but tranquil in nature. Additionally, he encompasses “nervous sensitivity,” which is a phrase usually attributed to women. This sensitivity is another attribute cats express to their owner for affection, and more so to receive food. The Count uses his charisma and sensitivity extensively to manipulate others to give him what he wants.

Another aspect about the cat that resembles the Count’s essence is the way it resides in the portrait. The cat appears to be relaxing and at ease, but its eyes are squinting as though it is keeping watch on the room and the bird, like Count Fosco does in the library with Marian and Laura. This manipulative behavior is exemplified when Marian notes, peering through the library door as she’s leaving to deliver her letters to Fanny, that “[Count Fosco] must have specifically invited [the housekeeper] to see [the canaries]- for she would never have thought of going into the library of her own accord. The man’s slightest actions had a purpose of some kind at the bottom of every one of them. What could be his purpose here?” (308). Marian’s observation makes two inquiries which link Count Fosco to the cat. First, he is permitting the housekeeper’s presence in the library, just like the cat is allowing the bird to perch on the same chair. The cat, like Count Fosco, could snap at any moment and kill the bird. Secondly, Marian questions the Count’s motive, which by this point in the novel the reader expects to be malicious.  However, the Count conceals his motives with endearment, and faces each complication in his plan by landing gracefully on his feet like a cat.

 

(I want to mention and stress that I absolutely LOVE cats and do not believe that they are inherently evil. I just thought the stereotype made a strong correlation to Count Fosco. They do have a sneaky way about them, but I do believe they are wonderful pets.) And now… KITTY PICTURES WITH BIRDIES!! =]