Was the Printing Press and growing literacy rates the main reasons for Martin Luther’s widespread support in Germany?

In the 16th century, majority of the people in Germany were illiterate, meaning that it was difficult to communicate or circulate ideas, as this could only be done by word of mouth. However, growing literacy and the introduction of the printing press, which was invented in the 1400s, provided Luther with an opportunity to spread his reformist views and ideas. Luther developed his ideas in response to papal corruption, which would become the basis of the Protestant faith. ‘Widespread’ is defined as gaining support from multiple areas and people. The printing press and growing literacy can be seen as the main reasons for the widespread suport Luther received, as it increased his support from the laity and the nobility. However, Luther could also be seen to gain support due to the weak structure of the Holy Roman Empire, which the Princes took advantage of, as well as the papal corruptions within the Roman Catholic Church.

The printing press and growing literacy can be seen as the main reasons for the widespread support given to Luther’s ideas in Germany in the years 1517 to 1555, as they increased Luther’s support from the laity and the nobility. Among those who were literate, Luther was able to circulate his ideas with the use of pamphlets, such as “Address to the Christian Nobility of the German Nation.” This pamphlet, published in 1520, declared that the pope was an adversary and attacked church doctrine. The deployment of the printing press ensured that many pamphlets were distributed quickly, thus spreading Luther’s ideas in the same fashion, which gave his idea’s support from many different people and places. Growing literacy rates meant that they could be appreciated, which gained Luther popular support. In 1524, Luther also published his first collection of hymns, aimed at those who were not fully literate. By replacing the rude, bawdy lyrics with religious teaching, Luther also used word of mouth to spread his ideas, which gained him further support from more people and areas. Luther also gained support from the laity, after he supported them in putting down the Peasant’s Revolt of 1524. After this, Luther dedicated much of his time ensuring that people understood his doctrine, which gained him further support from the nobility, as they were more able to understand his doctrine and teachings. The use of the printing press ensured the fast spread and movement of Luther’s ideas, while the growing literacy rates ensured that people could appreciate and understand his pamphlets, thus making both of these factors main reasons for his the widespread support Luther received in Germany. From 1530 to 1555, Luther began to receive wider support from the Prince’s, who were able to appreciate his work because of the growing literacy rates. The Princes also had the power to install Lutheranism within their individual towns and cities, and many Princes, such as Philip of Hesse, began to convert. The growing support for Lutheranism, as aided by the printing press and growing literacy eventually culminated in the 1555 Peace of Augsburg, which meant that Lutheranism achieved legal status in the empire. As support for Luther’s ideas was strong, and Charles V and Ferdinand I could not quash it, their only way of uniting Germany was to legalise it. It must be noted that this support would not have been so strong if it were not for the printing press and growing literacy rates. Both of these factors ensured that Luther’s ideas were circulated around the whole of Germany, and the growing literacy rates ensured that people of any class were able to understand his ideas, thus providing him with a great deal of support in the years 1517 to 1555.

One could argue that a more prominent reason for Luther’s widespread support was due to the weak structure of the Holy Roman Emperor. One can easily criticise the behaviour of Charles V, and has lack of influence over the empire, partly because of its size. This reduced influence meant that Charles did not have much control over Germany, and was more of an afterthought in the minds of the people, who were more concerned with Luther’s ideas, due to the rapid circulation of pamphlets. The power of Charles was also suppressed and weakened by the Princes. The Princes had full autonomy when governing their individual states, and would only carry out the emperor’s commands if they agreed with them themselves. This meant that Charles lacked a significant amount of control, which can be seen throughout the 1530s when the Prince’s began converting their own states to Lutheranism. When looking at the structure of the Holy Roman Empire, it can be argued that growing literacy rates and the printing press were not main reasons for Luther’s widespread support, as the lack of a significant authority within the Holy Roman Empire meant that Luther was not suppressed or stopped. Charles’ lack of authority, when compared to the Princes, ensured the spread of Lutheranism, as well as its support, as the Princes openly welcomed the new religion into their states, against the wishes of the Holy Roman Emperor. For majority of his rule, Charles was not in Germany, but was away dealing with threats from France, Spain or the Ottoman empire. This is also a significant reason as to why Luther’s ideas gained support from many people and places, as there was no authority present to stop him. For example, in 1542, Charles faced attacks on his Italian inheritance from the French and the Ottomans. This issue took precedence over the threat of Lutheranism, and Charles left Germany. This provided Luther, and the Lutheran Princes with an opportunity to gain more support in Charles’ absence, as there was no significant authority present to stop them. Charles absence was taken advantage of by the Lutherans, to ensure that Luther’s ideas gained more popular support, and with the addition of people becoming more literate, Luther’s ideas did acquire this support. The weak structure of the Holy Roman Emperor can be seen as one of the main reasons Luther’s ideas gained popular support in the years 1517 to 1555.

It could also be argued that one of the main reasons for the increase in widespread support of Luther’s ideas was due to the corruptions of the Roman Catholic Church. It was the Humanists, such as Ulrich Von Hutten, who brought attention to these issues, and informed the laity about them. These corruptions formed the basis of Luther’s ideas, as he developed his faith as a response to Catholicism, and considered his ideas to be an improvement on it. The Indulgency scandal of 1517 was heavily mentioned in Luther’s 95 Theses, and he openly criticised it, declaring it to be a significant example of papal corruption. Another example of this is Luther’s support of papal marriage, which would stop priests and clergyman engaging in sodomy, which was condemned in the Bible. The growing literacy rates helped people understand corruptions within the church, and also helped them to see Lutheranism as an attractive alternative, and a way in which issues could be solved. Luther also sought to combat issues of absenteeism, as the laity felt neglected by their local spiritual authority. In response to this Luther believed that priests should live within the parish, or very close to it. This gained Luther support from the people as he was seen as a heroic, national figure, who was fighting for the rights of the German people, in a time in which Germany was being heavily exploited by Germany. From this perspective, it could be argued that Luther gained support from many areas and people because the laity, nobility and humanists were dissatisfied with the corruptions of the church.

The most important reasons for the support given to Luther’s ideas from many people and areas in Germany are the use of the printing press ad growing literary rates. These combined factors ensured that more people are able to access Luther’s ideas, and also meant that people from all over the country and from different classes could read and understand them. This made Luther appeal to the people, as they believed he was fighting for their rights, and he became a nationalist figure. As the printing press and growing literacy rates ensured more people could understand Luther’s doctrine, they can be seen as the main reasons for the widespread support that Luther gained from 1517 to 1555.[1]

[1] A. Grundy, Religion and state in early modern Europe, (London, Pearson Education, 2015).

And my own knowledge.

The Demonic in ‘Tess of the D’Urbervilles’ and ‘Wuthering Heights’

Tess spends majority of the novel attempting to resist the demonic forces in her life, but yields to Alec for the sake of her family. If she becomes Alec’s mistress, he will financially support her family. Alec is a demonic figure in the novel. His assault of Tess and carrying of a pitchfork demonstrate this quite strongly. The Edenic setting of their first meeting, and his forcing of fruit into her mouth, fully realise Alec as the devil who will lead Tess into sin.  It is at the end of the novel that her entrapment by Alec, and loss of Angel for a ‘second time’ drives her to extreme action. Tess compares herself to a ‘caged bird!’[1] Her exclamation emphasises her distress, and the paragraph in which this quote is based in is littered with hyphens and ellipsis, implying the fractured nature of her mental state and distress. While confronting Alec, Mrs Brooks notices that her ‘lips were bleeding from the clench of her teeth.’[2] Throughout the novel the drawing of blood has been in reference to violence enacted on Tess, and the forced loss of her virginity by Alec’s. Here it foreshadows the violence that Tess herself will enact upon Alec.

Tess sees violence as the only way to achieve her goal, of being accepted by Angel. Alec too used violence against Tess in the Chase, in order to achieve his own goal of sexual gratification. In killing Alec she adopts his violent, demonic tendencies, and the descent of red blood from the ceiling subverts the traditional position of heaven with hell, emphasising that Alec has trapped Tess in a hell on earth. Despite Angel’s status throughout the novel as Tess’s supposed saviour, it was he who informed her that they could not be together ‘while that man’ lives.[3] It appears that Tess did not kill Alec as much for herself, but more so for Angel. This action transforms Angel supposed saintly image into a devilish one, as it was his comment, coupled with Tess’s distress, that encouraged her to act so violently towards Alec.

It is this act that leads directly to Tess’s demise. Although Tess has taken control in this act, she is still dominated by the influence of others, and the demonic presence in her life that is personified by Alec. To an extent this negates her agency and demonstrates the Gothic nature of Hardy’s narrative, as Tess’s life is governed by supernatural forces that are beyond her control or understanding.

Like Alec, Heathcliff demonstrates a significant demonic force in Cathy’s life in ‘Wuthering Heights.’ It is therefore unsettling to the other characters that such a being would bring Cathy comfort. However this is disrupted by the presence of Thrushcross Grange, and Cathy’s forced isolation there. Heathcliff recounts the event in which Cathy is bitten by Edgar’s dog Skulker, saying that ‘the devil had seized her ankle.’[4] The first syllable of the animal’s name, skull, foreshadows Cathy’s own macabre death at the Grange. The name’s likeness to the word ‘skulk’ personifies the dog, by implying that it had sinister intentions in keeping out of sight. As the Grange is the antithesis of the Heights, Skulker’s holding of Cathy against her will frames him as a demonic creature that threatens to tear Cathy away from her own personal paradise. Cathy does not ‘yell out,’ and instead it is Heathcliff who ‘vociferated curses enough to annihilate any fiend in Christendom.’[5] Cathy is acted upon by Skulker and actively defended by Heathcliff, rendering her as a passive figure in her own assault. Heathcliff believes his words carry a force unavailable to the average human being, stating that they could ‘annihilate any fiend.’[6] The violence and finality of ‘annihilate’ emphasises Heathcliff’s status as a supernatural being, who exerts a greater power than the humans who surround him. Heathcliff attempts to ram a ‘stone between its jaws,’ in an attempt to free Cathy.[7] This description of Skulker’s mouth adds to the monstrosity of the and dangerous nature of the scene, as it styles Skulker as the opening and entrance to the Grange, and by extension, Cathy’s own personal version of hell. Despite Heathcliff’s own self proclamation of his power, he cannot subdue Skulker. It is Cathy who is subdued by these two demonic forces that battle over her, resulting in her being ‘carried’ into the Grange.[8]

Heathcliff is banned from visiting her and can only watch from the outside as ‘spy.’[9] Cathy’s feet are ‘washed,’ her hair is ‘combed’ and she is ‘wheeled to the fire.’[10] This episode results in the loss of Cathy’s independence, as her physical maiming prevents her from venturing onto the moors. She passively accepts the Linton’s kindness and becomes a doll like figure whom they wash and dress. Her forced insertion into this environment represents her forced insertion into domestication and adulthood. On her return to the Heights, it is obvious to Heathcliff and Nelly that she is no longer the ‘hatless little savage,’ of her childhood.[11] It is from this point onwards that Cathy begins to accept the reality of her situation as a woman, which ultimately fractures her bond with Heathcliff irreparably. This acts as a preview of her future life at the Grange, and Skulker’s bite acts as a precursor to the violence that Cathy will experience at there should she choose to stay. The grandness of the Grange appears deceptive in this light and appears more like a gilded cage.

It is Skulker and his attack of Catherine that offsets a key turning point within the novel, much like Tess’s first meeting with Alec. This calls into question whether either heroine has any control over their own lives at all, and whether they are really just the playthings of supernatural, specifically, demonic forces.

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[1] Thomas Hardy, Tess of the D’Urbervilles (London: Penguin Classics, 2003), p. 381

[2] Ibid., p. 381

[3] Ibid., p. 243

[4] Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights (London: Penguin Classics, 2003) p. 49.

[5] Ibid., p. 49.

[6] Ibid., p. 49.

[7] Ibid., p. 49.

[8] Ibid., p. 49.

[9] Ibid., p. 51.

[10] Ibid., p. 51.

[11] Ibid., p. 53.

Vaisakhi: A Brief History

Vaisakhi is a festival observed by both Sikhs and Hindus in the Panjab. The festival is usually celebrated on the 13th of April, although in some years it has been celebrated on the 14th. Vaisakhi is a harvest festival for the people of Northern India, and for Hindus, Vaisakhi marks the beginning of the solar New Year. As well as cultural importance, the festival also carries religious significance for Sikhs. Guru Gobind Singh was crowned the tenth Sikh Guru on the 29th of March 1676. He was crowned following the martyrdom of the ninth Sikh Guru, Guru Teg Bahadur Singh, who was killed by Emperor Aurangzeb for refusing to convert to Islam. Vaisakhi marks the anniversary in which Guru Gobind Singh formed the Khalsa, on the 13th of April 1699. On this day, Guru Gobind Singh asked Sikhs to gather at Shri Anandpur Sahib and addressed the crowd.

He emerged from a tent, carrying a knife, asking who would be prepared to give their life for their faith. One volunteered, went into the tent, but did not come back out. Guru Gobind Singh did, only with a bloody sword. Guru Gobind Singh continued to ask for volunteers, and five Sikhs disappeared into the tent. People feared the five to be dead, but they all emerged wearing turbans. Guru Gobind Singh proclaimed that these five were to be known as the Panj Pyare, the ‘Beloved Five.’ Guru Gobind Singh praised them for their dedication to their faith, as shown by their willingness to die for their faith. Guru Gobind Singh baptised the five men into the Khalsa, by saying prayers and sprinkling them with holy water called Amrit. The five men were then given the surname Singh, meaning lion.

On this day, Guru Gobind Singh also introduced the Five K’s.

  1. Kesh: Uncut hair. This stated that Sikhs should not cut their hair, out of respect for its status as God’s natural creation.
  2. Kangha: A wooden comb. Used to keep hair tidy.
  3. Kara: An iron or steel bangle worn around the wrist. It is supposed to remind Sikhs that God is eternal and that we should also strive to commit good acts, not bad.
  4. Kirpan: a small sword. This reflects the fearlessness of the Sikh warrior, and their willingness to defend their faith.
  5. Kachera: A pair of shorts usually worn as underwear. This is supposed to remind Sikhs that they should control their sexual desire, and treat those of the opposite sex respectfully.

The wearing of the Five K’s acts as a physical signifier of Sikhism. Mid-April is also a significant time for Sikhs as it marks the anniversary of the rise of Ranjit Singh. On the 12th of April in 1801, Ranjit Singh was named Maharaja of the Sikh empire which he had helped to establish. His crowning created a unified political state.

The 13th of April also marks the anniversary of the 1919 Armritsar massacre, in which Acting Brigadier-General Reginald Dyer ordered the British Indian Army to open fire at a crowd of unarmed Indian civilians. 379 died, and over a 1000 were injured. The civilians had assembled at Jallianwala Bagh to celebrate Vaisakhi, and were not aware that Dyer has banned all meetings, fearing an insurrection. Some, particularly those who benefitted from the formation of the British Raj, praised Dyer’s actions. However, many condemned them. He was never reprimanded for it however, and Britain has never formally apologised for the massacre. In light of this, one could say that Vaisakhi is an important day for many different reasons, but the one that is probably remembered the most is the formation of the Khalsa, which is representative of the dedication that people should have to their faith.

Happy Vaisakhi!

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‘Warming Her Pearls’: Status, Possession and Lust

It is the status of the mistress that separates her from the maid, and acts as a permanent barrier between the two characters. There is no social mobility in the poem, as demonstrated by the description of the pearls as a ‘rope’ (l. 8),[1] symbolising the relationship between master and slave, as one is bound to serve the other. Hallett notes that the symbol of the pearls allows ‘eroticism [to intersect] with ideas of class’[2] as they represent an unattainable, desirable object, much like the mistress to the maid. The maid is unable to break free from her low status, and so cannot enter into a romantic relationship with her mistress.

Duffy’s uses the titular image of the pearls to discuss the idea of possession. The maid is firstly jealous that her mistress dances with ‘tall men’ (l. 7), which heightens her obsession for her mistress, as the image presented here shows how men disrupt, dominate and interfere with female relationships. To combat this, the maid infuses the pearls with her ‘persistent scent’ (l. 11), like an animal marking her territory. The maid tries to use the pearls to claim the mistress as her own, demonstrating her possessive nature.

The maid’s lust remains unchanged throughout the poem and is exacerbated by the absence of the pearls. Duffy’s maid is part of an unchanged cycle, as she warms her mistress’ pearls every day and then gives them up to her. Her lust for her mistress is heightened by the loss of the pearls, as she notes that she feels ‘their absence and I burn’ (l. 24). The burning sensation demonstrates the strength of the maids’ desire for her mistress. Nobody dies in this poem, unlike in the Browning poems I wrote about over the last two weeks. Does this say that the maids’ lust perhaps is not as strong as Porphyria’s lovers’? Is her possessive nature weaker than that of the Duke? Perhaps it is purer, as it does not manifest in any murderous intent. Perhaps it is purer because it is the love of a woman, not a man? Maybe there is no murder because the social status of the maid remains unchanged, unlike Porphyria and the Duchess. Some things to think about…

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[1] Carol Ann Duffy, ‘Warming Her Pearls’, in The Norton Anthology of Poetry, ed. by Margaret Ferguson, Mary Jo Salter, and Jon Stallworthy, 6th edn (London: Norton, 2018), pp. 2117-2118.

[2] N. Hallett, ‘Did Mrs. Danvers Warm Rebecca’s Pearls? Significant Exchanges and the Extension of Lesbian Space and Time in Literature’, Feminist Review, 74 (2003), pp. 35-49, 39.

‘My Last Duchess’: Status, Possession, Egoism and Contempt

In ‘My Last Duchess, the Duchess is killed by the Duke for her failure to recognise his status within society, and his ‘nine-hundred-years-old name’ (l. 33)[1] that she possesses because of him. Her disrespect of the title, and her ability to be ‘too easily impressed’ (l. 23) insults the Duke. The Duke implies that the Duchess was fickle and did not meet the standards of his high-ranking family, as she was pleased by all things, such as a ‘bough of cherries’ (l. 27) and a ‘white mule’ (l. 28). This leads to the Duke giving ‘commands | Then all smiles stopped together’ (ll. 45-46). The abrupt nature of line 46 demonstrates the speed of the death of the Duchess following the Duke’s order and makes for dramatic reading. The caesura caused by the phrase, in the middle of line 46, also gives the reader a moment to digest the barbarity of the Duke’s actions, which were motivated by his wish to preserve his status. Status influences the deaths of both female characters in the poems, albeit it in different ways. The Duchess’ failure to recognise her newfound status leads to her downfall. Here Browning may be criticising the idea of social mobility, as for the Duchess it ends in death.

The Duke’s possession in relation to the Duchess is explored by his keeping of her image ‘painted on the wall | Looking as if she were alive’ (ll. 1-2). This personification of the painting emphasises the detail within it, as well as the Duke’s desire to hold his wife in an infinite moment. The painting is kept behind a curtain so that only the Duke can access and make an exhibition of her, when he pleases. This demonstrates his possessive nature towards his wife, and his desire to capture her in a perfect moment as if she were living. The use of the word ‘my’ throughout the poem, and in the title, emphasises the possessive nature of the Duke towards his wife. Emily Francomano correctly summarises that, for the Duke, ‘true love is equivalent to the complete control that can only be attained by the deaths of the women they desire.’[2] This can also apparent in Brownings other work, ‘Porphryia’s Lover.’ Both women are victims of the desire of their male counterparts, specifically the desire to possess them fully.

The Duke’s killing of his wife is motivated by egoism. Browning ends the poem using an exclamatory phrase in which the Duke describes a statue of Neptune. The Duke casually finishes his tale, about the murder of his wife, and swiftly moves on, downplaying its significance. This alarms the reader, as the Duke appears unremorseful for the role he played in his wife’s demise, and more concerned with himself. The Duke is presented as a figure who lacks ‘human affection,’[3] as he killed the Duchess for egotistical reasons: the protecting of his own status.

The Duke feels considerable contempt towards the Duchess, and when this emotion reaches its peak, he orders for her to be killed. The dramatic shift in tone can be seen in the poem, signifying the peak of the Duke’s hatred for her, as he vows ‘Never to stoop’ (l. 43). This short dramatic sentence encapsulates the strength of the Duke’s contempt and a shift in the tone of the poem. It is clear that the Duke considers himself to be of greater moral standing than the Duchess, prompting him to have her killed. This action abruptly ends their relationship.

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[1] Robert Browning, ‘My Last Duchess’, in The Norton Anthology of Poetry, ed. by Margaret Ferguson, Mary Jo Salter, and Jon Stallworthy, 6th edn (London: Norton, 2018), pp. 1061-1062.

[2] E. Francomano, ‘Escaping by a Hair: Silvina Ocampo Rereads, Rewrites, and Re-Members “Porphyria’s Lover”’, Letras Femeninas, 25 (1/2) (1999), pp. 65-77, 65.

[3] J.R Watson, ‘Robert Browning: ‘My Last Duchess’, Critical Survey, 6(1/2) (1973), pp. 69-75, 74.

‘Porphyria’s Lover’: Status, Possession and Justification

In ‘Porphyria’s Lover,’ the status of the title character heavily influences her relationship with her lover. It appears that Porphyria has been unable to give herself to her lover and set her ‘struggling passion free | From pride’ (ll. 23-24).[1] Porphyria’s passion for her lover has been constrained by her high status. The use of the word ‘murmuring’ (l. 21) also demonstrates Porphyria’s inability to give herself to her lover, as she is not prepared to announce her love for him in society. Her declarations of love for him have been reduced to whispers, demonstrating the significance of her status, as it interferes with their relationship. However, Porphyria’s leaving of the ‘gay feast’ (l. 37) signifies a change in their relationship, as it appears that Porphyria has abandoned her family at a celebratory meal. This indicates that she has abandoned her status, and the constraints that came with her high rank, and is ready to fully give herself to her lover. This is indicated by the removal of her ‘cloak and shawl,’ (l. 11) which implies that she intends to stay with her lover awhile. Her overcoming of her status and eventual acceptance of him, as well as her love for him, leads to her death in the poem, as the narrator wishes to capture the moment in which Porphyria ‘worshipped’ (l. 33) him. Here the cycle of their relationship ends, as the narrator ends the life of Porphyria, holding her forever in a single moment. Browning may be using Porphyria’s story to comment on the negative effects of social mobility.

Porphyria is killed at the moment when her lover is in full possession of her, and when she fully commits to him. He notes that she was ‘mine, mine fair’ (l. 36). The repetition of ‘mine’ demonstrates the possessive and egotistical nature of the speaker, and this acts as his self-justification for killing her. His wish, to hold her in that moment of submission, as well as his possessive nature, leads to her death, as he strangles her with her own hair. He is invigorated by his actions, as implied by the ‘burning kiss’ (l. 48) he plants on her cheek. His possessive nature is symbolised by her corpse, which he happily sits ‘still’ (l. 51) with long after her death. He objectifies her by noting her ‘rosy little head’ (l. 52), reducing her to a doll like figure that he can fully dominate and possess. In this respect the poem comments on prominent themes in Browning’s work, ‘experiencing an infinite moment and seizing love’s chance in defiance of respectability and fear,’ as noted by Eggenschwiler.[2] Porphyria’s lover kills her in a moment of bliss, in the hope of retaining that moment and making it last forever.

Following Porphyria’s murder, the narrator goes on to justify himself and his actions, stating that in killing her he granted her ‘wish’ (l. 57). His self-justification can be seen through the narrators’ use of ‘I’ throughout the second half of the poem, as he takes control and animates his dead lover’s body. The delusion of the narrator prompts the reader to realise his mental instability, which is heightened with the ending exclamation of ‘And yet God has not said a word!’ (l. 60). The exclamation is a rarity in the poem, and initially appears jovial. However, the exclamation could be one of surprise, for it appears that God has not judged his actions. It raises further questions about the narrators’ state of mind, as it is unclear what emotion Browning is trying to convey with this exclamation. The fact that the narrator killed Porphyria in an attempt to grant, what he believed, was her wish, is especially disconcerting. This supports Eggenschwiler’s idea that the poem is a ‘psychologically complex dramatic monologue.’[3]

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[1] Robert Browning, ‘Porphyria’s Lover’, in The Norton Anthology of Poetry, ed. by Margaret Ferguson, Mary Jo Salter, and Jon Stallworthy, 6th edn (London: Norton, 2018), pp. 1057-1058.

[2] D. Eggenschwiler, ‘Psychological Complexity in “Porphyria’s Lover”’, Victorian Poetry, 8(1) (1970), pp. 39-48, 40.

[3] Ibid., 39.

St Patrick’s Day: A Brief History

Saint Patrick’s Day, or the Feast of Saint Patrick, is annually held on the 17th of March and is a religious and cultural celebration. It is celebrated primarily by Christians, and also celebrates the heritage and culture of the people of Ireland. The day is a public holiday in Ireland and has been since 1903. Saint Patrick’s Day is also celebrated globally. Irish emigrants transformed the festival into a secular one in the United States, which celebrates all things Irish. Since 1962, Chicago has coloured its river green to mark the day. The festival is also a public holiday on the island of Montserrat, as it was founded by Irish refugees. Due to the day’s association with Ireland, celebrations there greatly influence celebrations across the rest of the world.

As you may have guessed, the day itself celebrates Saint Patrick, a Christian missionary who lived in the 5th century. Most information about him comes from ‘Declaration,’ which was allegedly written by Patrick himself. The text details a story in which Patrick, at the age of sixteen, was kidnapped by Irish raiders and taken from his home, Roman Britain, as a slave to Gaelic Ireland. After working for six years as a shepherd there, he found faith. Toward the end of this six-year period, he began to hear a voice telling him that he would soon go home, and later that his ship was ready. He escaped, and travelled to a port, 200 miles away. There he found a ship and sailed back to Britain. By the time he returned to his family he was in his early twenties. There, he continued to study Christianity.

Patrick later had a vision, and in it, claimed he was visited by a man named Victoricus, who was from Ireland. The vision told hm that he must return to Ireland and lead them. Acting upon this, Patrick returned to Ireland to introduce his new Christian faith to the Irish people. The 17th of March is traditionally believed to be the day that he died. Although he has never been officially canonised, he is recognised as the primary patron saint of Ireland and is sometimes called ‘Apostle of Ireland.’ He is also regarded as ‘equal-to-the-apostles,’ meaning that his service to Christianity is considered to be on par with Jesus’ original 12 apostles.

The shamrock is a common symbol of Ireland, and legend has it that Saint Patrick used it to aid his teaching. According to the story, which first appeared in writing in 1726, he used it to illustrate the idea of the Holy Trinity. The three leafed sprig was representative of the father, the son and the holy spirit. It is now heavily associated with Saint Patrick’s Day. Allegedly, St Patrick also banished snakes from Ireland, chasing them all into the sea when they attacked him during his 40 day fast on top of a hill.

Green is associated with Ireland primarily because of the image of the shamrock. Other reasons have also been outlined. The story of Goídel Glas was described in the 11th century book ‘Lebor Gabála Éren.’ Glas was bitten by a snake, which was healed by Moses through the use of his staff. As a reminder, Glas retained a green mark that would also lead his people to a land that would be free of snakes. In the 1640s, the green harp flag was used by the Irish Catholic Confederation, further strengthening the link between the colour and the country. The wearing of the ‘Saint Patrick’s Day Cross’ was also a popular custom until the early 20th century. They were Celtic Christian crosses made of paper, covered with different coloured silks, commonly with a rosette of green silk in the centre. The festival is actually celebrated in more countries than any other national festival.

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!

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Harry and Meghan: History Repeating Itself?

Harry and Meghan’s interview with Oprah aired in the UK on Monday and was viewed by 12 million people. In the aftermath of its airing, Piers Morgan resigned and many media outlets have spoken in defence of their work and decried the couple. The couple candidly discussed Buckingham Palace, mental health and claimed that they received a lack of support from the family… or the institution… or is it the same thing? Meghan herself recognised it was difficult to separate the two, and Harry later confirmed this idea. In response, the Daily Mail released an article ‘fact checking’ the claims made by the couple: https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-9338421/Royal-revelations-test.html

Were the couple lying? Dare we have the right to accuse them of it? Why do people feel the need to so staunchly defend the royals? What’s the real difference between Meghan and Diana? Let’s have a think.

I will admit that I was surprised to think that Meghan had not even Googled Harry when she first met him. To debunk this, the Daily Mail quoted couples’ friends, and cited the recent book written about the Duke and Duchess, ‘Finding Freedom.’ Meghan’s maid of honour at her first wedding, Ninaki Priddy, asserted that Meghan was obsessed with the royal family, particularly Diana. Americans especially are interested in the royal family, so I assumed that she would have heard of them and recognised their status. Although Google may be able to give an idea of what being a working royal might be like, I doubt it could tell us what it is like day to day. Google would probably comment on a generalised notion of royal duties, but I doubt there is a comprehensive guide out there for people marrying into the royal family. There certainly was none for Diana, who noted that she ‘was thrown in the deep end,’ in one of the tapes Andrew Morton used to write her biography. Diana specifically here was referring to the Australia tour. Everyone was sympathetic to Diana about this issue, but it seems that Meghan has not been afforded the same sympathy. What is the difference? We do not see what goes on behind closed doors, as Diana’s story proved. We only learned about her experiences when she spoke out as Harry and Meghan are doing so now. Perhaps you would think that Meghan would have Googled Harry, but would it have really helped? Considering what Harry was saying in the interview, his experience in recent years has been as bleak as Meghan’s. It appears that even Harry did not fully realise what being in the royal family was like until now, or how ‘trapped’ he was inside it.

The couple also claim that they were wed secretly before the wedding. The Mail states that this is unlikely, but I cannot fathom what could be gained from the couple lying about this. The Mail says that in reality this just could have been an exchange of vows, not a legally recognised wedding. Perhaps this is enough for the couple, to them that counted as a wedding. Some say this was for publicity, but the couple have their Netflix deals, they were not paid for the interview. I can only think that this interview was agreed on because the couple wanted to tell their story.

Meghan claimed that she was ‘silenced’ by the royal family. The Mail cites evidence from royal insiders that the couple ‘called the shots’ when it came to publicity, but who are these royal insiders? Are they trustworthy? Why should we not trust in what the couple has to say? Diana too experienced similar treatment, her bulimia was overlooked by the family, and her decision to do the 1995 Panorama interview stemmed from her belief that a divorce from Charles would result in a gagging order. Sarah Ferguson also spoke out about eating disorders that she faced during her royal marriage, and she too faced personal criticism from the press. This idea of having a ‘stiff upper lip’ and not expressing ones feelings seems like an all too familiar narrative.

Issues surrounding Archie are both contentious and damning. If history dictates that Archie should not have a title, then fair enough, so be it. This is where facts and perception may get confused. It certainly looks bad, that the first royal baby of colour, will be the only one not to receive a title from an outsider perspective. This also links to Meghan’s treatment by the media. If you put a picture of the family together, the most noticeable difference is that Meghan is a woman of colour. Anything relating to Archie’s race, or colour, be it based on precedent or not, is bound to be inflammatory. If the couples remarks are indeed incorrect, then the palace should issue a statement to correct them. The Queen did step in in 2013 to issue a Letters Patent that ensured that George’s siblings received a title… could she not do the same for Archie? Why is she willing to bend the rules for them and not Archie? I am in no way saying that I believe that this was racially motivated, but if you ask people to look for a link, this is what they will come to – as it is the only difference between Meghan, Archie and the rest of the family.

The issue of Archie’s security strikes me personally as not an issue relating to the monarchy, but an issue relating to family. Archie is still Archie, and Prince Harry will forever be known as Prince Harry. The family will be forever hounded by the media. It appears that in their treatment of Harry and Meghan, the royal family subtracted the fact that they were family. Although people have cried out saying that Harry and Meghan should not have access to money from the taxpayer, and rightly so, surely the other royals would want to support Harry and Meghan in their move abroad? Yes, they wanted to be financially independent, but this does not happen overnight. Could no one have provided them with some money to settle? It does look uncaring on Charles’s part, especially in light of Harry’s remark that his father has stopped taking his calls. Following ‘The Crown,’ and all the history that has been dragged up by it, Charles has not fared well in recent months. Diana detailed Charles’s treatment of her in the biography, and if all are to be believed, it seems that some things are not changing. Harry is right in saying that Archie is still his grandson, Prince or not.

The Mail Online’s stance about Meghan’s requests for help being denied has been labelled as ‘difficult to verify.’ This is just a version of saying ‘we do not know,’ which is only a stone’s throw away from saying that Meghan is lying, as she is not being vindicated. This is insulting to her and others who have had mental health issues. Diana suffered the same treatment, but it appears that everyone’s compassion was then and does not exist now. The Mail even cites the fact that Harry did not know what to do about it, and so effectively blames him for his own wife’s poor mental health.

In terms of stories coming out, and protection from the media, from an outsider perspective it did not seem like the palace did not do much to stop the barrage of abuse Meghan was receiving. Parliament did discuss it, and Harry made a statement but no more was done. This again does not look good. The Mail labels this as ‘contested.’

I suppose viewers cannot really ever know the truth. It is Harry and Meghan’s word against someone else’s. What I will say is that, in my view, the Duke and Duchess did not come across bitter or vengeful in any way, and instead appeared sincere. There was no intense criticism of the character of individual members of the family but a mere description, of what they say, happened. Charles did probably come off the worst, but even then, Harry never made a comment on Charles’s character, just that Charles had stopped taking his calls, and that he felt let down. From an outsider perspective however, it does not look good, and based on what we know, looking at the experiences of Diana, Sarah Ferguson and Meghan, there are certainly common themes. This in itself is unsettling. It made me think of my own time working at Buckingham Palace, and although the situation was completely different, it seems that the harshness of the environment, and at times lack of sympathy, something that these three women described, does filter through to all levels.

What we all should remember is that these people are still people with feelings. They are still a family who fight and disagree with each other. No one is perfect, and no one is blameless, and even though people have come out in staunch defence of the royal family, solely because they are the royal family, they too are people who can, and I personally think have, made mistakes. I do not think people should take it so personally, especially when these people are not our own flesh and blood family… a hint to Piers Morgan, whose vendetta against Meghan seems childish and slightly obsessive. In terms of mistakes, and a totally different context, look at Prince Andrew.

Thanks for reading!

The influence of scripture, tradition and law on the abolition of Sati

‘Women become sites upon which various versions of scripture, tradition and law are elaborated’ – Lata Mani.

Mani’s sentiment rings true, as scripture, tradition and law were used to address Sati, an issue that primarily concerned women. Women therefore did become sites upon which versions of these three sources were elaborated and developed. Although these debates stemmed from a problem exclusive to women, the discussions demonstrated peoples’ desire to ascertain the legality of Sati, not their desire to help Hindu women. This is reflected in the rulings of the Nizamat Adalat, and in the works of Rammohun Roy and Walter Ewer.  The ideas that were generated by the debates concerning scripture, tradition and law impacted on Britain’s understanding of Sati, leading to the generation of colonial discourse on the topic. This cemented the British view that India was an immoral land, a view that validated their own, colonial, Christianising mission. Although scripture, tradition and law directly affected the debates around the abolition of Sati, and by extension women, women acted as passive bodies that these ideas were elaborated from, as their plight was disregarded in favour of assessing the legality of Sati, and later the colonial agenda of the British.

Initially, the East India Company were deterred from abolishing Sati as they did not want to appear as religiously intolerant, and they also worried about the economic repercussion’s abolition would have on the Company.[1] Due to this, there was a lack of legislation that explained Sati.[2] Regional traditions of the practice also varied, such as the direction of the pyre and whether the widow’s body should be placed on the left or on the right of it.[3] This made the practice inscrutable to the British colonisers. To combat this, instead of condemning Sati, they sought to assess how it should be practised, and to enshrine this in law. Enshrining Sati in a universal law meant that Indian widows could still carry out the practice, in a way which the British colonisers understood. The British colonisers believed this was the best way to minimise disruption to the Indian natives.[4]

British Utilitarianists, such as James Mill, advocated a universal code of law based on British values, believing that by reforming society, they could also improve Indian morality.[5] To generate accurate legislation, British colonisers depended on the interpretation of Indian pandits to understand Indian jurisprudence. This was problematic, as regional variations of Sati were largely ignored.[6] Increasingly, dependence on pandits, and the power that they exercised, became unsettling to British colonisers, so they sought new ways of understanding Sati and ascertaining the legality of it.[7] Social reformers such as Rammohun Roy advocated a return to scripture in order to do this.[8]

The influence of scripture over the debates about the abolition of Sati reinforced the authority of the pandits, as the interpreters of Hindu scripture. When attempting to ascertain the legality of Sati, which in this context refers to its scriptural authority, the court of Nizamat Adalat called on the pandit Ghanshyam Surmono.[9] In 1813, Surmono concluded that because the practice was ‘recognised and encouraged by the doctrines of the Hindoo religion,’ it should be legalised.[10] Surmono stressed that the legality of Sati rested on the voluntary nature of it.[11] This is recognised in magistrates’ records of Sati, in which the countenance of the widow was examined to ensure that she was committing the act of ‘her own free will.’[12] This defined the role of woman as the dutiful wife who was obedient to her husband and obedient to scripture.

The court also concluded that widows could only commit Sati ‘provided she has no infant children, nor is pregnant.’[13] If the widow were to commit Sati, she should also make provisions for childcare.[14] This view casts the widow in the role of mother and demonstrates a conflict between this role and her role as wife. The courts advocation of Sati supports the women’s position primarily as wife. Unfortunately, this does not consider the plight of the widows in question, as their lives rested on the presence and age of their children, and not their own will.

Rammohun Roy’s 1818 tract disagreed with the legal rulings of the court, and asserted that Sati had no scriptural authority.[15]  He claimed that corrupt Hindu princes invented the practice, ‘under the cloak of religion,’ to ensure the faithfulness of their widows, and then asserted the legitimacy of Sati in scripture.[16] Roy noted the absence of Sati in the Shashtras, texts which the British colonisers used as principal guides to the Hindu faith.[17] Despite this apparent display of support for women, Roy’s opposition to Sati stemmed primarily from its lack of scriptural authority.

Instead of Sati, Roy advocated ascetic widowhood, which, as described in the Manusmriti, ‘should preserve the virtue required of widows.’[18] Walter Ewer corroborated the importance of the text, seeing it as the ‘parent of Hindoo jurisprudence.’[19] Governor General of India William Bentinck supported this idea, stating that ascetic widowhood was ‘the purest precepts of religion,’ and that, for the rest of her life, the widow would act as a role model for future generations of Hindus. [20] 

In response, supporters of Sati argued that a prolonged life of widowhood would lead to one of prolonged suffering, recognising Sati as the lesser of two evils.[21] It was also feared that widows were a danger to society, as they did not have a husband to contain their irrepressible sexuality, making Sati a more favourable alternative.[22]

Roy’s use of the Manusmriti to support his argument was also problematic, as the text did not address the issue of Sati, rendering it irrelevant.[23] This led to the broader assertion by the opposition that a lack of scriptural basis did not validate the disregarding of traditional practices.[24] The durga puja and dola jatra were cited as examples.[25] Although women acted as sites upon which these debates were elaborated, their plight was disregarded, and instead, the assessment of the credibility of scripture in defining Sati was prioritised. Women were relegated to an inactive and passive role by scholars in the debates about the abolishment of Sati. Britain selected details of these ongoing debates to incorporate into their own distinct colonial discourse on the topic of Sati.

British evangelical missionary Charles Grant decried the treatment of women in India, and saw them as the ‘unfortunate part of the community and greatly to be pitied.’[26] Politician William Wilberforce publicly condemned the ‘fireside evils’ that Indian women were subjected to, which directly contrasted with the evangelical view of the fireplace, as the heart of the idealised Christian family.[27]

Walter Ewer developed this idea further through his conception of the Hindu widow. His 1818 work advocated voluntary Sati, but argued that the widows involved in the practice were enslaved by religion and the will of those around them.[28] Ewer asserted that any normal person would ‘turn with natural instinct and horror from the thought of suttee,’ but that the widow does not because she lacks education and the ability to reason independently.[29] This infantilised the widows, making them occupy the position of wife, mother and also child.[30] This is ironic, as in 1818, sixty-four percent of Sati’s were above forty years of age.[31] Whilst, in a way, defending women by stating that Sati must be voluntarily, Ewer also does them a disservice by casting them in the role of the unintelligent victim, that needed the aid of foreign intervention. This demonstrates Britain’s ability to manipulate certain ideas about Sati to suit their own colonial agenda.

Ironically, Britain’s discourse on Sati increasingly focused on Hindu men rather than Hindu women. Britons viewed Hindu men as effeminate and weak, leading them to the conclusion that they were unable to protect Hindu women from practices such as Sati.[32] The British decided that they needed to intervene to protect Hindu women from Hindu men, the enforcers of Hindu faith and tradition. The selective discourse that the British employed is also present in their commentary on female infanticide. Hindu men interviewed by Major Walker stated that female infanticide ‘belonged to the Nursery,’ attributing the act to women.[33] However, the British elected to blame Hindu men for this, saying that women committed infanticide on the order of their husbands, who enforced the Hindu faith upon their women, even though Hinduism itself made no mention of female infanticide.[34] This suited the British agenda by confirming the superiority of British, Christian moral values, and encouraged the colonial belief that India was a morally corrupt country that required British intervention.

This was vocalised by Wilberforce, who argued that Christian conversion was an ‘imperial duty.’[35] Charles Grant concurred, claiming that the only way to reform India was to reform its morals.[36] Although these ideas stemmed from the practice of Sati, the focus on Hindu men disregarded the plight of the women in favour of validating the British agenda: the Christianisation of India.

Sati was used to appeal to the wifely and maternalistic nature of the British woman and to inspire their sympathy, in the hope that they would travel to India as missionaries.[37] Bentinck wished for this to happen quickly, in contrast to the gradual change that had gone before.[38] Such a mission epitomised the evangelical idealisation of motherhood, as it saw women expanding their domestic role in the English home to include the country of India.[39] The mission of the women was the spread of education, in the hope that intellectual enlightenment would encourage Hindus to convert to Christianity, and thus end immoral Hindu practices, such as Sati.[40] The campaign itself was successful, and by May 1821 over 521 pounds was collected by the Ladies Committee of the British Foreign School Society to send a teacher to Calcutta.[41] Mary Anne Cooke was selected, and in setting up schools throughout Calcutta, educated 800 pupils over three years.[42] Cooke herself styled her work as one of self-sacrifice, as she had left the comforts of Britain to help people less fortunate than herself.[43] Her sacrifice contrasted the self-sacrifice of Sati, serving the British cause further in highlighting the differences between Britain and India.[44] Despite the good intentions of her mission, it is conceivable to think that the story of Cooke would have attracted more attention than the Indian women who she was trying to educate, and also reinforced the British conception that the people of India were intellectually and morally inferior, as illustrated by their selective discourse. In retrospect Britain’s response to Sati can be read as a white saviour narrative, in which Britain’s attempts at helping India were predominantly self-serving.

Sati was abolished in 1829, meaning that British colonisers were successful in intervening in the lives of the Indian natives. As I have demonstrated, although women acted as sites upon which the debates concerning the abolishment of Sati were elaborated, because Sati specifically concerned women, their feelings were disregarded in favour of the debates that ensued between scholars and academics, who sought to ascertain the true nature of Sati. The ensuing discussions cast women in several different roles, such as wife, mother and victim, roles that the women themselves had no control over. Britain chose which ideas to incorporate into their colonial discourse, concluding that the Indian natives needed to be saved from themselves, citing the weakness of Hindu men as the cause of this development. Britain’s solution was the spread of Christian ideals, perpetuating a white saviour narrative. No action which led to the abolition of Sati demonstrated specific concern for the plight of the widows, as, in the words of Gayatri Spivak, it is their ‘testimony’ that is never encountered, rendering them as the unrecognised, eternal victims of Sati.[45]

Thanks for reading!

[1] L. Mani, ‘Production of an Official Discourse on “Sati” in Early Nineteenth Century Bengal’, Economic and Political Weekly, 21 (1986) pp. 32-40, p. 33.

[2] S. den Otter, ‘Law, Authority, and Colonial Rule’, in Douglas M. Peters and Nandini Gooptu (eds.), India and the British Empire (Oxford, 2012), pp. 168-190, p. 174.

[3] Ibid., p. 38.

[4] Ibid., p. 33.

[5] F. G Hutchins, The Illusion of Permanence: British Imperialism in India (Princeton, 1967) p. 10.

[6] S. den Otter, ‘Law, Authority, and Colonial Rule’, p. 172.

[7] Ibid., p. 179.

[8] L. Mani, ‘Contentious Traditions: The Debate on Sati in Colonial India’, Cultural Critique, 7 (1987), pp. 119-156, p. 104.

[9] Mani, ‘Production of an Official Discourse on “Sati” in Early Nineteenth Century Bengal’, p. 33.

[10] L. Mani, ‘Contentious Traditions: The Debate on Sati in Colonial India’, p. 94.

[11] Mani, ‘Production of an Official Discourse on “Sati” in Early Nineteenth Century Bengal’, p. 33.

[12] Mani, ‘Contentious Traditions: The Debate on Sati in Colonial India’, p. 94.

[13] Ibid., p. 98.

[14] Mani, ‘Production of an Official Discourse on “Sati” in Early Nineteenth Century Bengal’, p. 33.

[15] R. Kumar, The history of doing: an illustrated account of movements for women’s rights and feminism in India 1800-1990 (London, 1993), p. 14.

[16] Mani, ‘Contentious Traditions: The Debate on Sati in Colonial India’, p. 105.

[17] Kumar, The history of doing: an illustrated account of movements for women’s rights and feminism in India 1800-1990, p. 14.

[18] Mani, ‘Contentious Traditions: The Debate on Sati in Colonial India’, p. 108.

[19] Ibid., p. 108.

[20] Ibid., p. 112.

[21] Ibid., p. 108.

[22] A A. Yang, ‘Whose Sati?: Widow Burning in Early 19th Century India’, Journal of Women’s History, 1 (1989), pp. 8-33, p. 15.

[23] Mani, ‘Contentious Traditions: The Debate on Sati in Colonial India’, p. 108.

[24] Ibid., p. 108.

[25] Ibid., p. 108.

[26] C. Grant, Observations, on the State of Society among the Asiatic Subjects of Great Britain, Particularly with Respect to Morals and on the Means of Improving it, Written Chiefly in the Year 1792 (London, 1813), in Andrea Major (ed.), Sati: A Historical Anthology (New Delhi, 2007), pp. 75-8, p. 75.

[27] C. Midgley, ‘Female Emancipation in an Imperial Frame: English Women and the Campaign Against Sati (Widow-Burning) in India, 1813–30’, Women’s History Review, 9 (2000), pp. 95-121, p. 97

[28] Mani, ‘Production of an Official Discourse on “Sati” in Early Nineteenth Century Bengal’, p. 35.

[29] Ibid., p. 35.

[30] Mani, ‘Contentious Traditions: The Debate on Sati in Colonial India’, p. 97.

[31] Ibid., p. 98.

[32] C. Hall, ‘Of Gender and Empire: Reflections on the Nineteenth Century’, in Philippa Levine (ed.), Gender and Empire (Oxford, 2007), pp. 46-76, p. 53.

[33] D. J.R Grey, ‘Creating the ‘Problem Hindu’: Sati, Thuggee and Female Infanticide in India, 1800-1600’, in Joanna De Groot and Sue Morgan (eds.), Sex, Gender and the Sacred: Reconfiguring Religion in Gender History (New Jersey, 2014), pp. 104-116, p. 108.

[34] Ibid., 107.

[35] L. James, Raj: The Making and Unmaking of British India (London, 1997) p. 224.

[36] Hutchins, The Illusion of Permanence: British Imperialism in India, p. 10.

[37] Midgley, ‘Female Emancipation in an Imperial Frame: English Women and the Campaign Against Sati (Widow-Burning) in India, 1813–30’, p. 98.

[38] G.D. Bearce, British Attitudes Towards India, 1784-1858 (New York; London, 1961), p. 156.

[39] Midgley, ‘Female Emancipation in an Imperial Frame: English Women and the Campaign Against Sati (Widow-Burning) in India, 1813–30’, p. 98.

[40] Ibid., p. 98.

[41] Ibid., p. 98.

[42] Ibid., p. 98.

[43] Ibid., p. 98.

[44] Ibid., p. 104.

[45] Yang, ‘Whose Sati?: Widow Burning in Early 19th Century India’,  p. 110.

Moll Flanders: Subverting Romance Conventions

Daniel Defoe’s ‘Moll Flanders’ was published in 1722. The passage I will be focusing on comes halfway through the novel as an older Moll recounts a time of high notoriety in her life. Following her failed marriage to the banker, Moll turns to a life of thievery, and following the capture and execution of her accomplice, adopts the name ‘Moll Flanders’ in order to conceal her true identity. In the passage, located in Chapter 18, Moll is seduced by a ‘Gentleman’ that she meets at ‘Bartholomew Fair,’ and following the end of their liaison, she robs him. This passage, like the rest of the novel, continues to subvert traditional romance conventions, by drawing attention to romance conventions in the passage, the setting, actions of characters and by using free direct discourse. 

Romance conventions had been previously established in works of romance prose fiction, and such conventions can be identified in the opening of the passage. Moll’s ‘Gentleman’ is ‘extreamly well Dress’d and very Rich.’ These adjectives illustrate Moll’s suitors’ wealth and status within society, making him a highly eligible bachelor. Suitors would often be of a high status in romance prose fiction, as identified by William Congreve, who noted that stories of this nature involved individuals of ‘the first Rank.’[1] This emphasises that characters involved in romance prose fiction were of the highest status, which mirrors the implied status of Moll’s suitor. This is certainly true of Aphra Behn’s prose romance Oroonoko, in which the title protagonist is a ‘prince.’[2] Moll’s impression that her suitor is ‘civil’ may correspond with Congreve’s assertion that ‘lofty Language’ frequently appeared in romance prose fiction.[3] This could refer to hyperbolic romantic language, which suitors would deploy to incite feelings of affection within their lovers. Moll’s suitor also buys her a ‘Feather Muff,’ in an attempt to win her affections. This could be equivalent to the heroic acts that male suitors in romance prose fiction were supposed to complete in order to win the hearts of their lovers, referred to as ‘invincible courages’ by Congreve.[4] This plays to the idea that as well as words, suitors would have to physically prove their love to their female counterparts. The opening of the passage appears to adhere to conventions of romance prose fiction, as it develops a male character that is of high status who attempts to win Moll’s hand by showing his affection for her by buying her a gift. This then allows Defoe to subvert these established conventions throughout the remainder of the passage and novel.

The setting of the passage confirms that this was Defoe’s intention. Moll encounters her gentleman at ‘Bartholomew Fair.’ The fair had taken place since the twelfth century, in honour of Saint Bartholomew.[5] This specific setting is selected by Defoe as by 1720, two years prior to the publication of Moll Flanders, the Fair had become home to ‘debaucheries, drunkenness, whoredom’ and was deemed unfit for ‘Christians ears and eyes.’[6] This emphasises the immorality and irreligious nature of the fair, as activities within it were condemned by the Church. This foreshadows the unconventional romance between Moll and her lover, despite the initial opening of the passage, which appeared to adhere to typical romantic conventions.

This choice of setting also marks the rise in formal realism, as the novel begins to act as a ‘picture of real life and manners.’[7]  Ian Watt also recognised this as a mark of the eighteenth century novel, due to its attention to particular ‘times and places.’[8] This demonstrates that the novel is reflective of the times in which it was written, thus progressing away from romance prose fiction, which described more fantastical stories of heroism. The setting is an ironic one in which to find a romantic relationship, as those at the fair are generally seen as ‘idle’ or of ‘loose’ morals.[9]

The actions of Moll’s suitor continue to support the assertion that the passage subverts typical romance conventions. The absence of a name removes any identifying feature from the character, and also emphasises his lack of relevance in Moll’s life, as another of her nameless conquests. As the passage progresses, more is discovered about the character which contradicts the readers’ first impressions of him. He ‘press’d’ Moll to drink, implying that he forced her impolitely. He is not heroic and does not go to great efforts to win Moll, as suitors were expected to in other works of romance prose fiction. In Oroonoko, the title character notes that to save his love, he would ‘venture through any hazard to free her.’[10] Moll uses the verb ‘yielded’ to describe how she responded to her suitors’ advances and describes that he ‘did what he pleas’d with me.’ These descriptions make Moll appear passive, as her suitor is actively pushing her to drink. The relationship appears one sided, suggesting an unequal balance of romantic feeling between the two. There is an imbalance of power, as Moll appears passive to the active agency of her suitor. The forceful nature of Moll’s suitor contradicts her initial impressions of him and confirms the constitution of his character to her and the reader.

Defoe uses free direct discourse to expose the true nature of Moll’s suitor, describing him as ‘so absurd, so surfeiting, so ridiculous.’ This list of three emphasises Moll’s disdain for him, and her use of ‘surfeiting’ implies that she has endured too much of his company which has caused her to desire no more. This confirms that he stifled her, as previously suggested by his persistent action in encouraging her to drink. Moll declares that he was ‘in the possession of two devils at once.’ This metaphor emphasises his immoral nature, as he is controlled by not one but two devils, linking back to the idea that the Fair was home to people devoid of Christian moral values.  It is now confirmed that her suitor represents the antithesis of Christian morality, styling him as a devilish villain. Defoe’s use of free direct discourse allows the reader to see Moll’s point of view verbatim as she recounts her own personal experience. The lack of punctuation gives the impression that Moll has launched into a tirade of anger against her lover and is consumed by it. This emphasises her ‘individuality of character,’[11] which was explored in the eighteenth century novel, as it allowed the reader to understand characters fully, and moved them away from the stereotypical archetypes of romance prose fiction.[12] Both Moll and her suitors’ supposed morality depletes as the passage progresses, revealing their true, corrupt nature.

Moll’s own actions display her own corrupt nature. In response to her lovers’ revealed character, Moll ‘pick’d his Pocket of his watch and his purse of gold.’ What originally appeared as a romantic liaison now has descended into petty thievery. This also marks the shift away from romance prose fiction to realist novels, as Moll’s individuality of character dictates her nefarious actions. This reduces the romantic nature of the liaison to something purely economical and confirms that both characters have used each other for mutual gain. The beginning of the passage contrasts the ending, as the morality of the characters declines as the passage progresses, showing their mutual descent into moral degradation. Moll does not intend to marry this man, as one might expect at this point in her life, and the relationship is considerably dishonest as he appears as something he is not, and she robs him. Although she claims that the situation was ‘unlook’d’ for and ‘undesign’d,’ Moll makes great use of it. The unconventional use of the prefix ‘un’ attempts to emphasise Moll’s lack of involvement in the circumstances of the affair, as she tries to redeem herself in the eyes of the reader.

The passage, and novel, display the transition from romance prose fiction to the eighteenth-century novel, by subverting typical romance conventions. Defoe’s focus on setting and individuality of character allowed him to tell a more realistic story that reflected the times in which it was written, unlike the hyperbolic romance fantasies that had gone before. The moral degradation of Moll and her suitor is reflected in the dénouement of the passage, as their true nature is revealed. This is aided by his use of free direct discourse, allowing greater insight into Moll’s mind. Their actions and behaviour fully subvert the previously established romance conventions of romance prose fiction.

Thanks for reading!

[1] William Congreve, Incognita; or, Love and Duty Reconcil’d (London: Printed for Peter Buck, 1692), A5v sig [Available online: EEBO].

[2] Aphra Behn, Oroonoko (London: Penguin Classics, 2004) p. xxv.

[3] Congreve, Incognita, A5v sig.

[4] Ibid., A5v sig.

[5] Daniel Defoe, Moll Flanders (London: Penguin Classics, 2011) p. 187, n.1.

[6] Ibid., p. 187, n.1.

[7] Clara Reeve, The Progress of Romance (1785), quoted from lecture, Jessica Fay, ‘Moll Flanders’ (9th January 2020, University of Birmingham).

[8] Ian Watt, The Rise of the Novel (London: Pimlico, 1957 repr. 2000) p.32.

[9] Defoe, Moll Flanders, pg. 187, n.1.

[10] Behn, Oroonoko, p. 20.

[11] Watt, The Rise of the Novel, p.32.

[12] Northrop Frye, ‘The Four Forms of Prose Fiction’, The Hudson Review, Vol. 2, No. 4 (1950) p. 584.