heart_in_the_margins: (Beaton Reader)
(I'd like to begin with the complaint that it is weirdly easier for me to focus on writing things when I'm not writing in Word? This may be a problem. This is in fact not my first post-Word option; Scrivener is; but as I sketched out what I wanted to accomplish, page-by-page, in the ten pages of paper I have to write tomorrow and Saturday, I realized that there are exactly three pages whose content remains somewhat mysterious to me, and those are the pages discussing Mary Astell, and Scrivener wasn't helping me figure them out. So here I am.)

Mary Astell's A Serious Proposal to the Ladies is actually the text that got me started thinking about this paper. I found it a fascinating read -- about halfway through my notes, somewhere, there is the scrawled phrase "heavenly feminist university scheme!" probably surrounded with hearts or something, because basically Astell's proposal is that women should come together into a communal retreat that would do everything from providing a space for religious devotion to educating women in useful knowledge to supporting real friendship instead of backbiting and gossip to (ultimately) preventing rich single women from being sexually assaulted by men with designs on their fortunes.

Custom, Fashion, and the World

For Astell, though, the worldly reasons for this retreat have less to do directly with the potential of sexual assault and more to do with the ways in which the world of society trains women up from a young age to possess unbalanced perceptions of their physical vs. spiritual beauty and worth. Simply put, she's convinced that "custom" has both created and indulged women's fascination with fashion and beauty while encouraging them to neglect their educations. She introduces the argument of her pamphlet by stating, “This is a Matter infinitely more worthy your Debates, than what Colours are most agreeable, or what’s the Dress becomes you best. Your Glass will not do you half so much service as a serious reflection on your own Minds” (140). Astell slowly works in this sentence to restore seriousness of thought to words like "Debates" and "reflection" which have been debased by a slavish adherence to custom. This attempt to take the terms of fashion and of petty female conversation and elevate them or swap them out for those terms that Astell wants women to emphasize reoccurs throughout the pamphlet -- at one point, she laments that women are so quick to follow French fashions, when what they should really find fashionable and worthy of imitation is an education in French philosophy [cite]!
“Thus Ignorance and a narrow Education lay the Foundation of Vice, and Imitation and Custom rear it up. Custom, that merciless torrent that carries all before it, and which indeed can be stem’d by none but such as have a great deal of Prudence and a rooted Vertue” (147)

“ ‘Tis Custom therefore, that Tyrant Custom, which is the grand motive to all those irrational choices which we daily see made in the World, so very contrary to our present interest and pleasure, as well as to our Future. We think it an unpardonable mistake not to do as our neighbours do, and part with our Peace and Pleasure as well as our Innocence and Vertue, merely in complyance with an unreasonable Fashion” (147)
“Therefore, one great end of this Institution shall be, to expel that cloud of Ignorance which Custom has involv’d us in, to furnish our minds with a stock of solid and useful Knowledge, that the Souls of Women may no longer be the only unadorn’d and neglected things.” (152)
A Happier Eden: Undoing the First Fall, Creating Female Friendship and Conversation

While Astell doesn't precisely gender "custom," I do think that there is a sense that her use of "custom" and my use of "patriarchy." Early on, she writes,
“Let us learn to pride ourselves in something more excellent than the invention of a Fashion; And not entertain such a degrading thought of our own worth, as to imagine that our Souls were given us only for the service of our Bodies, and that the best improvement we can make of these, is to attract the Eyes of Men. We value them too much, and our selves too little, if we place any part of our desert in their Opinion; and don’t think our selves capable of Nobler Things than the pitiful Conquest of some worthless heart.” (141)
Rejecting the male gaze as the impetus for female "improvement" [a charged word in the context of pastoral at this point!] opens up a space in which women can encourage and help improve each other -- a space of female friendship that the pressures of the outside world seem to render impossible. When Astell describes her proposed retirement as a “Happy Retreat! which will be the introducing you into such a Paradise as your Mother Eve forfeited” and where “there are no Serpents to deceive you,” the invocation of women's lineage from Eve serves both as a reminder of the biblical justification for some of women's weaknesses and as a promise that that perceived weakness is just another form of "custom" that rears its serpent head and prevents women from achieving their fullest potential as rational creatures (151).

And it is as rational creatures, not just spiritual or emotional ones, that the women of Astell's proposal are called to form a community. Writing against the imagined complaints of men who would reject her proposal as hurtful, Astell counters, “I cannot imagine wherein the hurt lies, if instead of doing mischief to one another, by an uncharitable and vain Conversation, Women be enabled to inform and instruct those of their own Sex at least” (155). Wouldn't it be nice, Astell says, if “In stead of that Froth and Impertinence, that Censure and Pragmaticalness, with which Feminine Conversations so much abound. we should hear their tongues employ’d in making Proselytes to heaven” (164)? What actual conditions would be possible to make this the case?

After seclusion, the first real answer is education:
“What is it but the want of an ingenious Education, that renders the generality of Feminine Conversations so insipid and foolish and their solitude so insupportable? Learning is therefore necessary to render them more agreeable and useful in company, and to furnish them with becoming entertainments when alone” (154)
The "company" imagined here is a specifically feminine company that has little in common with the company of the world. Instead, “this happy Society will be but one Body, whose Soul is love, animating and informing it, and perpetually breathing forth it self in flames of holy desires after GOD and acts of Benevolence to each other” (157). While Astell does emphasize the spiritual nature of her proposed venture, she isn't shy about the educational value she wants women to derive from it: in a sequel pamphlet, responding to critiques, she describes the venture as “rather Academical than Monastic” (179), suggesting that this imagined retreat might serve not only as a place of spiritual but also intellectual growth and power. In the end, the retreat from heterosexual society into a homosocial one is empowering for Astell: “you may more peaceably enjoy your selves, and all the innocent Pleasures it is able to afford you, and particularly that which is worth all the rest, a Noble Vertuous and Disinteress’d Friendship” (151).

Make Way for Eden: Actual vs. Virtual Space

While Astell's Proposal is often classed as something of a utopian scheme, certain sections of the text suggest that she has every intention of making this institution a reality. Her proposal, she suggests, needs to be enacted in the real world because it would serve to alleviate the real-world concerns of a particular set of women:
And if after so many Spiritual Advantages, it be convenient to mention Temporals, here Heiresses and Persons of Fortune may be kept secure from the rude attempts of designing Men; And she who has more Money than Discretion, need not curse her Stars for being expos’d a prey to bold importunate and rapacious Vultures. She will not here be inveigled and impos’d on, will neither be bought nor sold, nor be forc’d to marry for her own quiet, when she has no inclination to it, but what the being tir’d out with a restless importunity occasions. (165)
The "rude attempts of desigining Men" are real, the inveigling and imposing and forcing is real, and that's why women need a real space to allow for their retreat from it. Astell's argument in this passage is similar to the arguments of many English men and women around this period who began to lament the lack of alternative options for women who would not -- or could not -- be married. Astell's labeling of her retreat as a "female monastery" [cite] may have upset some of her readers, but in many ways the institution she seeks to establish would perform the functions ascribed to Catholic nunneries in earlier ages, giving women a respectable (and typically inexpensive) alternative to marriage, and thus an alternative to being pursued by men whose desires might find violent expression.

The one thing to note is that Astell isn't being terribly egalitarian about all of this. She cares mostly about "Heiresses and Persons of Fortune"; later, she states that her plan might be most useful to “Persons of Quality who are over-stock’d with Children, for thus they may honourable dispose of them without impairing their Estates. Five or six hundred pounds may be easily spar’d with a Daughter, when so many thousands would go deep” (168). Not many families would have had five or six hundred pounds just lying around -- and while Astell is surprised that no one answers her proposal with ready money, I'm not, because by this time, the kinds of women who might have seriously benefited from an institution like this didn't necessarily have the financial support to make it a possibility.

And yet, for all of Astell's disappointment at the failure of this community to come together as a reality, there's something to be said for the idea that a woman can use the space of print publication to summon (and perhaps in so doing create) a public of specifically female readers, who are initially encouraged to improve their genius in order not to let down former examples of female literary talent: “Remember, I pray you, the famous Women of former Ages, the Orinda’s of late, and the more Modern Heroins, and blush to think how much is now, and will hereafter be said of them, when you your selves (as great a Figure as you make) must be buried in silence and forgetfulness!” (141) [something about the literary community of women around Katharine Phillips?] Astell, through print publication, ensures that she will never be "buried in silence and forgetfulness."
heart_in_the_margins: (Walking reader)
I think my paper is going to end by looking at a pair of poems by Anne Finch, Countess of Winchilsea, in order to suggest the ways in which the gendering of (royalist) women's representations of retreat shifts towards the end of the eighteenth century.

"The Petition for an Absolute Retreat"

This poem is particularly interesting because its female speaker -- addressed in the poem as Ardelia, a pastoral renaming of Anne Finch herself -- constructs a vision of paradisal retreat in some ways much like Astell's (a place of women's community and friendship, contemplation, lack of adornment in dress, knowledge production; a "petition" in the public sphere) but in other ways related to Cavendish's (centered around a pair of female friends, rejecting the intrusions of those "Who visit, but to be from home" (l. 9), addressed from one woman to another). I plan to use it as a text that will both make the distinction between Cavendish and Astell clear, and suggest that their interests perhaps represent different ends of the same spectrum, on which Finch falls more firmly in the middle. [I, uh, may have been distracted from this post for a bit while I tried to draw a Venn diagram of these three women's interrelated interests...it's currently a work in progress.]

Even the title of this poem is of interest: first, it's framed as a "petition," which suggests that it's a document that circulates in something like a public sphere and represents the requests/demands of someone without authority to someone with greater authority. The petitioned figure in the poem is possibly "Fate," personified throughout, but also possibly Arminda, Finch's pastoral renaming of her friend Catharine Countess of Thanet. I'm interested in what it might mean that this poem moves the genre of "petition" away from the public interaction between, say, subject and sovereign, and into the realm of interaction between two female friends. Second, "absolute" seems to be functioning in a way that separates this poem's interest from the typical representation of the retreat. This is not a retreat from which its inhabitants are interested in returning. Unlike the seasonal movement to and from the countryside, this is a request for a retreat that would not end, that would not have to be balanced by a return to the city and a return to work, so to speak.

The most fascinating thing about this poem is that it continually references Eden, and the happy pair of Adam and Eve, as support for its vision of a pair of female friends cohabiting in paradise. The stanza that does the most talking about these tropes (ll. 104-25) does refer implicitly to Adam and Eve, but neither names nor genders them -- nor does it name or gender the poem's addressee. As a result, it's possible to read Finch's desire for "A Partner suited to my Mind" (l. 106) as a reference to her husband (more on him in a minute). But the following stanza makes it pretty clear that the partner discussed in these terms is in fact Arminda. The poem ultimately stresses female friendship:
Friendship still has been design'd
The Support of Human-kind;
The safe Delight, the useful Bliss,
The next World's Happiness, and this. (ll. 192-5)
What does it mean that Finch can evoke God's reason for creating Eve, and a common justification for marriage -- "Heaven has shown / It was not Good to be alone" (l. 104) -- to discuss the love she feels for a female friend? I do think this poem is about homosociality rather than homosexuality, but it's a female homosocial sphere that is deliberately separate from the influence of men.

"To Mr. F[inch] Now Earl of W[inchilsea]"

Simply put, this is a poem written to her husband about how infrequently poems about happiness and married love are actually written -- and about how hard, therefore, it is to be asked to write one. Finch actually describes her relationship to her husband in terms similar to those in which she describes her relationship to her female friend in the previous poem, and their marriage is transformed into something like the shared retreat of "Petition": a "stolen secrecy" (l. 96), located spatially "in some neighboring grove, / (Where vice nor vanity appear)" (ll. 88-9) and thus evoking the space of the pastoral retreat.

The majority of the poem consists in Finch, aka Ardelia, arguing with the muses for inspiration to write a poem in praise of her husband. The muses give some interesting reasons why it can't be done, and those are the focus of my interest:
And 'twas their business to take care,
It reached not to the public ear,
Or got about the Town:

Nor came where evening beaux were met
O'er billet-doux and chocolate,
Lest it destroyed the house;
For in that place, who could dispense
(That wore his clothes with common sense)
With mention of a spouse? (ll. 46-54)
So we get a series of interesting associations here: "public," "the Town," "beaux," "billet-doux," and the space of the coffeehouse are all at odds with "mention of a spouse." Here, the things that are public include not just men's conversation (the coffeehouse was a male homosocial sphere) but also courtship (billet-doux = "sweet letters," aka love letters), the process of pressing one's suit prior to (or outside of) the commitment of marriage. So the public/private, or public/secret divide (to use the terms of the poem) is not between private homes and public spaces, domestic women and worldly men -- it's between what can be known to all and what must be known only to a select audience. And that select audience in this poem -- the husband and wife -- are engaged in the same kind of pastoral retreat from society in which Ardelia petitions Arminda to join her. [I also suspect "petition" is a word that at this time would possess overtones of courtship...need to OED that.]

Some concluding thoughts

"To Mr. F" feels very early for the kind of companionate marriage it's describing, but this is less important to me than the way in which the companionate marriage of "To Mr. F" occurs in a very similar space to the friendship of "Petition." We haven't yet made it to anything like a gendered separation of spheres: the domestic space and the space of retreat are spaces of intimate relationship, but that relationship could perhaps be either heterosexual OR homosocial. For Finch, these still seem somewhat interchangeable -- this is why she can use references to Eden, and to Adam and Eve, to code her relationship to her friend in "Petition," but still write a poem about her incredibly loving relationship with her husband that is also couched in pastoral terms.
heart_in_the_margins: (Letters)
One thing I will say for this particular class, I'm doing a lot more reading in the later seventeenth century than I thought I would ever get the chance to do. I'm an eighteenth-centuryist at heart, and mostly a mid-to-late eighteenth-centuryist (my dissertation will probably start with Richardson and Fielding and end with Austen and Scott, at this point), because mostly I care about the novel. But I do care, more broadly, about what it means to constitute communities in print, and as a result I am starting to care about the rise of the periodical press, and apparently, about the ways in which royalist women writers dealt with their figurative and literal isolation during the civil wars and Interregnum and after the Glorious Revolution.

For this particular paper, I'm interested in representations of virtual vs. actual communities of women, particularly in print (because print circulation itself can create a virtual community out of its readership, the way that manuscript letters don't really accomplish). As a result, I turned to Margaret Cavendish's Sociable Letters (1664) and read them through to see how this collection constructs female sociability and to what ends it does so. Some of these letters may have been written before the Restoration; all of them are written in light of the trauma of the civil wars, which forced Cavendish into exile on the Continent and cost her husband a great deal of his property and wealth. And this is important, because my current thesis about the function of virtual vs. actual (female) communities in Sociable Letters is that Cavendish associates the world of actual sociability with damaging gossip and insecure alliances reminiscent of the civil wars, and as a result casts the royalist retreat from the country (or into the countryside, away from the city and the actual sociability it represents) as a retreat from the warfare amongst women and a retreat to virtual sociability via letters which will always offer more security, and therefore more pleasure.

Now, to back up and actually talk about the evidence that seems to support this.

The Frame

SL is framed as representing
the Correspondence of two Ladies, living at some Short Distance from each other, which make it not only their Chief Delight and Pastime, but their Tye in Friendship, to Discourse by Letters, as they would do if they were Personally together, so that these Letters are an Imitation of a Personal Visitation and Conversation, which I think is Better (I am sure more Profitable) than those Conversations that are an Imitation of Romantical Letters, which are but Empty Words, and Vain Complements. (42)
This introduction suggests a few things, not just about the letters that will be present in this collection, but about the ways in which Cavendish believes these letters will differ from letters written in the "Mode-style" of "our Modern Letter-writers" (42). Her emphasis on the idea that these letters will represent virtually the same kind of discourse these ladies would have "if they were Personally together" suggests that letters typically did not function in the same terms as "Personal Visitation and Conversation." Furthermore, her argument that letters imitating conversation are better than conversations imitating letters suggests that the sincerity of the language employed is of greater importance to her than the distance that separates the conversant parties: be it face to face or via the post, conversation should and can be "personal" (which I suspect she's using in much we way we'd use the phrase "in person" today).

[It's also possible that the fact of there only being two ladies is significant -- when I move on to talking about gossip, I want to suggest that Cavendish finds it most problematic when it happens in larger groups, as opposed to when it happens as a way of passing news between two good friends.]

The first letter of the collection lays out much the same framework: "You were pleas’d to desire, that, since we cannot converse Personally, we should converse by Letters, so as if we were speaking to each other […] so that our Letters may present our personal meetings and associatings" (47). The very notion that letters can "present our personal meetings" suggests that the letter is a powerful vehicle for the creation of virtual sociability that is no less intense (and no less valuable) than the kind of sociability that inheres in face-to-face "personal" encounters.

[I just want to note here that the frame closes weirdly. There are some letters in the end of the collection that are obviously written to Cavendish's real-life acquaintances, rather than to this fictitious "lady," but the final letter acknowledges this and treats the fictitious lady as real, in so doing pointing up the virtual and print-mediated nature of this collection. "As I began this Book with those Letters to you," she writes, "so I will end it, hoping you will Pardon me for Mixing some Letters with those to your self" (286) -- and yet none of the letters have thus far acknowledged that they are being written for a book, rather than being actually written. By suggesting that the recipient of these letters a) is real, and b) knows all along that the letters are part of a "Book" and not part of a correspondence, Cavendish both affirms and breaks down the notion that these letters might be representative of a real correspondence. I don't know quite what to do with this yet, but it really interests me.]

Gossip and women's resentment of other women

The letters that represent women's sociable interactions seem to suggest that these will always end in anger and strife, due to women's need to compete with each other for pride of place and tear each other down in order to promote their own interests. These relationships may be couched under the language of "friendship," but Cavendish seems to be of the opinion that with friends like these, who needs enemies? In an early letter, she writes that “Friendship that is made out of fond Humours, seldom lasts long, especially when they live and bord together...especially Women” (69), and continues,
Thus they may be Friends and Enemies all their Life time, and perchance take a pleasure in being so, for Women for the most part take delight to make Friendships, and then to fall out, and be Friends again, and so to and fro, which is as much Pastime and Recreations to them, as going abroad and staying at home. But I wish all Friends were as constant Friends as your Ladiship and I (70)
The inconstancy Cavendish accuses so-called "friendships" of exhibiting is mirrored in the paired oppositional terms of these sentences: "Friends and Enemies," "to and fro," "going abroad and staying at home." The last sentence, in contrast, concludes by pairing the presumably like terms of "your Ladiship and I." What I find interesting is that this letter begins with the assertion that the reason this particular other pair of women have for being on-again-off-again friends is that they actually "live and bord together" and have to see each other in person on a daily basis. Thus, the slightest suggestion that a virtual correspondence is more salutary to female friendship than an actual series of personal visits.

This idea of women being at odds with each other is developed throughout the collection, leading to statements like the following:
it is so Unusual for one Woman to Praise another, as it seems Unnatural; wherefore she doth not Delight to be Prais’d by her own Sex (116)

it is not only Men that Slander Women, but one Woman Slanders another, indeed, Women are the Chief Dishonourers of their own Sex, not so much by their Crimes, as by the Reproaches of each other (229)
These "slanders" are most often talked about as gossip, and for Cavendish, gossip is thing that begins with women's physical interactions with one another. Directly after a letter discussing an actual plague, which she pleads her friend to escape by removing herself from the city, Cavendish writes, “in this Age there is a malignant Contagion of Gossiping, for not onely one Woman Infects another, but the Women Infect the Men, and then one Man Infects another, nay, it Spreads so much, as it takes hold even on Young Children” (143-4). Here women are at the start of the causal chain, and the language of disease and infection suggests the necessity of physical proximity (or actual interaction) to pass along the disease. Taking the comparison literally, Cavendish suggests that "there is nothing more Dangerous in all Malignant Diseases, than Throngs or Crowds of People" and suggests that retirement from society is "the best Preparative against the Plague of Gossiping" (144). 

The need for retirement

As the above might suggest, SL makes a pretty clear juxtaposition between the "Solitary Country Life" and the "City Life, which is but a Gossiping, and Vain Life" (285). In fact, issues of female sociability seem to cluster around these different ways of life: on the one hand, solitary life is associated with virtual sociability, friendship, and genuineness, whereas city life is associated with actual sociability, gossip, and fashion. While the association of the country life with a more genuine way of living, as opposed to the ridiculous fashions of the town, is a pretty common pastoral trope, it's clear from the letters that the pastoral retreat is perhaps most appealing as a retreat from competition between women and its expression as gossip. Cavendish goes so far as to say that "the less Acquaintance we have with each other, the better, unless they be Chosen by an Immaculate, and Pure Sympathy, and Honour Knit the Knot of Friendship, otherwise the more Acquaintance we have, the more Enemies we have; wherefore to Live Quietly, Peaceably, and Easily, is to be Strangers to our own Sex" (221). She continues in the same letter to say that "a Retired Life is most Happy, as being most Free from Censure, Scandals, Disputes, and Effeminate Quarrels" -- i.e. the quarrels of women! -- "but our Sex is so far from Retirement, as they seek all Occasions, and let no Opportunity slip, by which they can go to Publick Meetings, or Private Visitings, or Home-Entertainments, they will Ruin their Friends, Fortunes, or Fame, rather than Miss, or Want Company" (222). It's interesting to see that "retirement" for Cavendish is not about privacy, for "Publick Meetings, or Private Visitings" are equally in violation of the desire for retirement. The real problem is the need to be always in someone else's actual company (just like the problem with the two women who are such on-again-off-again friends is that they live together, are always in each other's actual company).

[Ironically, Cavendish imagines her critique of gossip as making herself an enemy to other women, precisely because she is critiquing other women: "But if this Letter were not written to you, but to another Lady, it were Probable that Lady would become my Enemy upon this subject, as speaking so much against our Sex; wherefore there is Male-Gossipping, and Male-Brabling as well as Female, and there are more Effeminate Men than Masculine Women" (222). I'm interested in the gendering of gossip being so specific that she needs to distinguish between "gossiping" and "Male-Gossipping," and I'm also interested in the way that "effeminate" and "masculine" are being used here, because they seem to have the valence that they come to acquire later in the time period as distinguishing between two fundamentally different sexes...]

***See also Letter 26

The civil wars

So as it turns out, one of the early meanings of "gossip" was "One who has contracted spiritual affinity with another by acting as a sponsor at a baptism" (OED 1). One of the most interesting letters in SL discusses what happens when its writer is "Invited to be a Gossip, to Name the Lady B.Rs. Child, of which she Lyes in" (157). What starts out as an older concept of gossip soon turns into a newer one (something more like "A person, mostly a woman, of light and trifling character, esp. one who delights in idle talk; a newsmonger, a tattler" (OED 3)). Suddenly all of the other women present at such an occasion begin complaining about their terrible husbands. The letter-writer sits and listens in silence for a bit before entering the conversation to tell these women that their complaints won't do any good if they aren't directed at their husbands, and that in fact it reflects poorly upon them if their husbands are poorly behaved.

The resultant scene is metaphorically one of warfare: “the Ladies […] with Anger fell into such a Fury with me, as they fell upon me, not with Blows, but with Words, and their Tongues as their Swords, did endeavour to Wound me [...] it hath so Frighted me; as I shall not hastily go to a Gossiping meeting again, like as those that become Cowards at the Roaring Noise of Cannons, so I, at the Scolding Voices of Women” (158). Being in the midst of a group of women whom you've angered is like being in the midst of a war.

And this isn't the only letter to take up these metaphors. Another describes the way in which high society in towns and cities represents a situation in which “every One is against Another; indeed, every One is against All, and All against every One, and yet through the itch of Talk, Luxury, Wantonness and Vanity, they will Associate into Companies, or rather may I say, Gather into Companies” (79). Cavendish plays on "company," which can mean both a group of people gathered for social purposes and a group of soldiers, gathered to fight in a war, and shortly makes the metaphor explicit by referring to her desire for “Retirement from the publick Concourse and Army of the World” (79). Again, this is connected specifically to gossip as an action primarily undertaken by women against other women: in society, “if any Woman be more Beautiful than commonly the rest are, if she appears to the World, she shall be sure to have more Female Detractors and Slanderers, to ruin her Reputation, than any Monarch hath Souldiers to fight an Enemy” (78-9). The reference to soldiers that might help a monarch fight off an enemy has particular resonance in the writings of a woman whose husband gave a great deal of money to raise armies for the English monarchy during the civil wars, and who lost almost all that he invested [indeed, SL contains a great number of letters about the loss of property the Cavendishes have sustained as a result of the civil wars -- need to reference those in paper]. There are more women gossips, Cavendish suggests, than there are loyal soldiers to support their king. And though it might be something of a stretch, I think it's possible to make an equation between gossip and rebellion/treason [might not make it in this paper as it doesn't seem the kind of thing that M would really buy into, though I totally do]. As a result, Cavendish is left “wish[ing] for the honour of our Sex, that Women could as easily make peace as war” (53) -- both in the nation at large, and amongst themselves.

The one complication

The letter that launched me into thinking about this text in the first place provides a very different take on the kind of relation women might have to the civil wars. Letter 16, instead of accusing women of being in a perpetual war of gossip against each other, that depends on their socializing in person and in large numbers, suggests that women's removal from politics (their status as non-citizens) also makes them non-participants in the war that's tearing apart their nation: “But howsoever, Madam, the disturbance in this Countrey hath made no breach of Friendship betwixt us, for though there hath been a Civil War in the Kingdom, and a general War amongst the Men, yet there hath been none amongst the Women, they have not fought pitch’d battels” (61). I don't know what to do with this in light of the other letters, because this one seems to present a very different general point of view than all of the rest. I think one way around this is to suggest that this letter represents a more idealized notion of how women and men might differ in their relationships to national politics vs. personal friendships, but that doesn't actually seem strong enough.

In the end, I only have 10 pages' worth of paper to write, which means that I'm gonna wind up with a ridiculous number of footnotes.
heart_in_the_margins: (Hardworking)
For one of my classes this semester, I get to write two short (10-page) papers instead of one long paper, and I'm taking this option even though it means that I have houseguests in the week leading up to the paper deadline and really need to write it over spring break.

The first paper I plan to write started out as something of an inquiry. There's a lot of research on the emergence of public social spaces in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries in Great Britain (and to a lesser extent on the Continent), specifically places like the coffee house, which was essentially (if research and contemporary reporters are to be believed) a space where intelligent men would go to partake in civil debates over the major issues of the day. Most coffee houses subscribed to periodicals, and some even had small lending libraries. Reports suggest that the coffee house leveled the playing field between members of different ranks; though most of the people who frequented them were at least in what we might now think of as the upper middle class, petty bourgeois could effectively argue with minor nobility and if the nobility complained or tried to pull rank, they were teased for not following the unspoken rules of the coffee house, where the man with the best argument won.

The thing is, these spaces -- along with the emerging periodical culture that both described them and gave them material for their debates -- were intensely male homosocial spaces. The papers like the Tatler and the Spectator that often set their proceedings in coffee houses were obviously not restricted to a male readership, but they address their audience through a form that ties them very closely to this masculine space that no respectable women would dare to enter. (The only women allowed were the ones who sold the coffee.) The emerging public sphere and the critical debate that it fosters leaves women out.

This on itself isn't surprising -- hello, patriarchy! -- but in conjunction with some of the readings I've been doing for this class, it got me thinking about the ways in which women writers in this period (1690-1720ish?) see it as a problem that they have no access to a comparable female homosocial space. The rooms of their houses won't do, since those are rooms that on other days at other times might have male occupants, might bear the lingering traces of heterosociality like the coffee house (or like men's clubs) never would. Right now, I'm planning to write about the way in which women writers figure imagined or virtual spheres of female-only sociability, and consider in particular one writer who argues for the need to make these safe spaces a literal reality.

Overview of texts I want to cover:

--Mary Astell, A Serious Proposal to the Ladies for the Advancement of their True and Greatest Interest (1696): Astell proposes creating a "female monastery" where women would be secluded from the world in a pastoral retreat where they would gain religious and intellectual instruction from other women. Perhaps most interesting to me is her insistence on the need for a physical retreat from the world. Though she gives many reasons for it, the one that strikes me most forcefully is essentially an argument that it will preserve women from sexual assault: "here Heiresses and Persons of Fortune may be kept secure from the rude attempts of designing Men; And she who has more Money than Discretion, need not curse her stars for being expos'd a prey to bold importunate and rapacious Vultures" (Astell 165). I imagine that in many ways this text will be at the center of the argument I begin to build, though it will likely be the last text I cover in my paper, because it's the one that suggests why a virtual or imagined space of sociability isn't enough; women need the physical protection offered by real-world female homosociality.

--Female-directed periodicals: I haven't read any of these yet, but I suspect I should. The ones I've been able to find so far include Delariviere Manley's The Female Tatler (1709-10), useful for its contemporaneity with the periodicals that were really shaping and defining the male social sphere, and Eliza Haywood's The Female Spectator (1744-6), which is published much later than its namesake but might be interesting as an endpoint of this paper. 

--Margaret Cavendish, Sociable Letters (1664): I've only read one of these letters so far, but it's a fascinating one. I think Cavendish will end up fitting into my paper as a representative of the argument that letter-writing (which if I'm not mistaken does have a specifically feminine valence at this point) presents a virtual community of women, which is not only sufficient to the needs of women but perhaps even superior to men's gatherings in the public sphere. This is a hypothesis that will need to be tested, but the one letter I have read suggests that the Civil War is entirely the cause and concern of men, whereas women are somehow safely removed from it: "though there hath been a Civil War in the Kingdom, and a general War amongst the Men, yet there hath been none amongst the Women, they have not fought pitch'd battels" (Cavendish 61). This suggests to me the possibility that it is the very virtuality of the female social sphere that makes it a valuable place, and specifically a place where friendship can be maintained despite differences (in contrast to the male social sphere, which emphasizes debate and disagreement). 

--Anne Finch, "The Petition for an Absolute Retreat" (1713): This pastoral poem is written to one of the poet's female friends, and celebrates a pastoral retreat as the space that makes female friendship possible. Definitely something to read in conjunction with the Astell, with which it has a lot in common. Interesting to me because it does mention Finch's husband and invites him to be present in the pastoral retreat space, but spends much more time talking about her friend, addressed in the poem as Arminda. **Also look into the other poems published in the same volume as this one?

--Mary Leapor, "Complaining Daphne. A Pastoral." (1751): Not actually sure if I would use this, since it might be smarter to stick to a tighter time period and I might want it to be an earlier one -- but it's interesting in that it ends with Daphne's call to her "Sylvan Sisters" and a promise to "bid the lordly Race Adieu" (ll. 108, 111) for their sake. Also interesting in that it's a self-consciously pastoral poem, which would help connect with Astell's pastoral retreat. (I also think it could be argued that Leapor chooses to name this nymph "Daphne" as a reference to the myth of Daphne and Apollo -- but here the girl is the pursuer, not the pursued, and when her love leaves, she decides to retreat to a society of women, and the poem supports her choice. Unlike the mythological Daphne, she is free from sexual violence.)


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June 2017



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