Jane Austen blows the whistle on Sir Thomas, the sexual predator of Mansfield Park

In Janeites, a list member wrote the following in response to my claim that Sir Thomas Bertram sexually abuses various female members of his family at Mansfield Park:  

“Please give examples of quotes that readers understood to be indications of abuse. It's not whistleblowing if no one can hear the whistle.”

My reply:  lend Jane Austen your ear, and you’ll hear her whistle very clearly…..  ;)

First and foremost, as Patricia Rozema (in my view correctly) made explicit in her 1999 film adaptation what was already implied everywhere in MP by JA, the central fact of the novel is that Sir Thomas is a slave plantation owner in Antigua. This man spends a lot of time there, and that would tell us a great deal about him, even if we knew nothing else about him. His “profession” already predisposes the alert reader to be suspicious of all his actions, even though most Janeites read MP as if Sir Thomas ran a successful morally defensible business. But that would make Jane Austen a hack writer, who creates a huge implication of something very dark and disturbing, but to no purpose. She is not a hack.

Second, I have often posted about Sir Thomas’s extreme hypocrisy, how his bottom line in life is the bottom line in pecuniary terms---all he cares about is money, even though he pretends to be motivated by Christian morality. That subtext is everywhere in the novel.

And third I have posted a number of times over the past decade about how Sir Thomas is just like Claudius from Hamlet, being confronted with his sins by his son Tom’s “staging” of Lovers Vows—in this case, it’s Sir Thomas’s long-ago sexual misadventures with his sister-in-law, which have resulted in his being visited two decades later by his illegitimate son (Henry Crawford), the proverbial chicken coming home to roost.

But that only sets the stage for the very specific passages in MP which revolve around Fanny’s sexual terror when she is around Sir Thomas, which have all the hallmarks of the PTSD response of a longtime sexual abuse victim. I just quickly collected a sampling of such passages from my prior posts, but there are others, too. (and that’s in addition to what I wrote about earlier, how it’s clear that Mrs. Norris and Maria have obviously been waiting for Sir Thomas to be away for a long while in Antigua in order to find some way of getting Maria out of sexual harm’s way at Mansfield Park):

“The TERROR of his former occasional VISITS TO THAT ROOM seemed all renewed, and she felt as if he were going to EXAMINE her again IN FRENCH and English. “

When you look at this line of narration from slightly off-center, you realize with a sickening jolt that there is a horrible alternative interpretation, in which the “examination” is physical, not academic, and in which “in French” refers not to the French tongue as a language (the French word for language being the same as the French word for a person’s actual tongue) but to an actual tongue---more horribly still, Sir Thomas’s tongue---and you realize further that in 1814, and still even today, the sexual slang meaning, for Brits, of anything sexual that is “in French” is unmistakable—e.g., “the French way”.

Jane Austen knew what that reaction would be too, and she shows it to us in the following scene:

[Cousin Edmund Bertram speaking to Fanny Price] “… (smiling). "Do you want to be told that you are only unlike other people in being more wise and discreet? But when did you, or anybody, ever get a compliment from me, Fanny? Go to my father if you want to be complimented. He will satisfy you. Ask your uncle what he thinks, and you will hear compliments enough: and though they may be chiefly on your person, you must put up with it, and trust to his seeing as much beauty of mind in time."
Such language was so new to Fanny that it quite embarrassed her.
"Your uncle thinks you very pretty, dear Fanny—and that is the long and the short of the matter. Anybody but myself would have made something more of it, and anybody but you would resent that you had not been thought very pretty before; but the truth is, that your uncle never did admire you till now—and now he does. Your complexion is so improved!—and you have gained so much countenance!—and your figure—nay, Fanny, do not turn away about it—it is but an uncle. If you cannot bear an uncle's admiration, what is to become of you? You must really begin to harden yourself to the idea of being worth looking at. You must try not to mind growing up into a pretty woman."
"Oh! don't talk so, don't talk so," cried Fanny, distressed by more feelings than he was aware of; but seeing that she was distressed, he had done with the subject….” END OF QUOTED EXCERPT

Let’s take a quick tally: “He will satisfy you….they may be chiefly on your person, you must put up with it…the long and the short of the matter…your figure---nay, Fanny, do not turn away about it…harden yourself…” And that awful smile….

Is it any wonder that Fanny is “quite embarrassed” and was “distressed by more feelings than he was aware of”? This scene is one of many which long ago soured me on Edmund Bertram, who, despite his good intentions, always wusses out in the moment of truth—and this is the ultimate moment of truth, when Fanny is most in need of his protection, and he—the definitive representation of the Anglican clergy in Jane Austen’s novels-- just goes AWOL, morally speaking.

And here’s another, even more egregious:

“As she entered, her own name caught her ear. Sir Thomas was at that moment looking round him, and saying, “But where is Fanny? Why do not I see my little Fanny?”—and on perceiving her, came forward with a kindness which astonished and penetrated her, calling her his dear Fanny, kissing her affectionately, and observing with decided pleasure how much she was grown! Fanny knew not how to feel, nor where to look. She was quite oppressed.”

Caught her ear, or caught her rear? Did you read my post of only a few days ago in which I recounted how I spoke at the JASNA AGM about the 13 times Jane Austen word-played with the word “rear” in MP (the exact same way Shakespeare did with “Lend me your ears”)—it goes far beyond the obviously sexual “rears and vices”. But when you see that same wordplay in the same short paragraph with “penetrated”, “kissing”, “fanny”, along with Sir Thomas ogling Fanny’s body, the collectivity is sickening.

Sir Thomas is a monster, and, as Hannah Arendt famously worded it, it’s the banality of his evil that is so chilling—while many African slaves surely died on his Antigua plantation, at home  in Mansfield Park he lives a more muted version of that same “lifestyle”.

And finally, as I’ve also written in the past, we see men like this in today’s world as well --- Dominique Strauss-Kahn and Jerry Sandusky, to name a couple of infamous names from the present day.

Open your ears, and hear JA’s high pitched “whistle” blowing…..

[and see the PS, below]

Cheers, ARNIE

@JaneAusten on Twitter

PS: Here is my response to a reply to the above by that same participant in Janeites:

 

“I remember the movie and thinking that its blowsy-haired Fanny was not like the character in the novel.”

I have always said that this was the one false note in an otherwise brilliant unpacking of many key aspects of the shadow story of the novel. Beware of throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

”Even if she herself saw it the way we do (and the words she put in Jane Fairfax's mouth would seem to argue against that view), she would not have expected her readers to assume that a slaveholder was likely also to abuse his children.  Plus, Austen presents nuanced characters rather than caricatures. “

You’ve completely missed the point of Jane’s words, but that is a much bigger topic.

Sir Thomas is not a caricature, because JA brilliantly depicts the veneer of respectability and morality that hypocrites like him presented to the world. He’s very much like General Tilney, but since we see him through Fanny’s eyes, many Janeites can’t see what an ogre he is. This is the quintessence of nuance.

And I left out the biggest clue of all. Right after Edmund panders for Fanny to allow the recently returned Sir Thomas to ogle and fondle her, we read:

"Your uncle is disposed to be pleased with you in every respect; and I only wish you would talk to him more. You are one of those who are too silent in the evening circle."

"But I do talk to him more than I used. I am sure I do. Did not you hear me ask him about the slave-trade last night?"

"I did—and was in hopes the question would be followed up by others. It would have pleased your uncle to be inquired of farther."

"And I longed to do it—but there was such a dead silence! And while my cousins were sitting by without speaking a word, or seeming at all interested in the subject, I did not like—I thought it would appear as if I wanted to set myself off at their expense, by shewing a curiosity and pleasure in his information which he must wish his own daughters to feel."

If you cannot hear what Jane Austen is saying via that “dead silence”, then you are missing the essence of Jane Austen’s satire and irony.

“And, good grief, Hannah Arendt was not writing about Sir Thomas Bertram, who would have gone bankrupt if he had murdered all his slaves.”

You’re making my argument for me! Don’t you realize that he WAS having great financial difficulty with his slave plantation, and that was one plausible reason why! It was an economic decision for cruel plantation owners, using terror and abuse to keep his plantation in line, and avoid a slave revolt such as occurred in Haiti.

And what you also may not realize is how mainstream the slavery subtext has become in Jane Austen scholarly circles since Rozema’s 1999 film. There were a handful of articles written on that topic between 1967 and 1999, but since the film blew the roof off the pervasive silence in ordinary Janeites circles, there’ve been many dozen of such articles.

So this is not just Rozema and me.

ARNIE

“I would by no means SUSPEND any pleasure of yours”: The many likenesses “suspended” on the “walls” of Pride & Prejudice

As those following along in this blog know, I wrote a post a few days ago… http://tinyurl.com/kr8ajk6

… in which I outlined the case for the repartee between Darcy and Elizabeth in Chapters 10 and 11 of Pride & Prejudice connected to eavesdropping and picturesque beauty being both staged and in code, as it is in Much Ado About Nothing. In this post today, I’ll present all the passages in P&P which collectively infuse the novel with a pervasive metaphor of pictures (or likenesses). I‘ll use ALL CAPS to tag keywords which repeatedly ping the reader’s subconscious. In my next post in this series, I’ll explain further how this subliminal metaphorical pattern informs much of the characterization & action in P&P.

To begin, in Ch. 8, the Bingleys and Mr. Darcy dissect Elizabeth’s muddy petticoats and dark, sweaty skin, as if they were art connoisseurs observing a picture of Eliza at an exhibition (the same kind that Jane Austen joked about in real life in her 1813 letters to Cassandra when JA visited one in London after publication of P&P, and playfully mock-speculated as to which portrait was Jane and which Eliza):

“…Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you SAW her petticoat, six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to hide it not doing its office."

"Your PICTURE may be very EXACT, Louisa," said Bingley; "but this was all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet LOOKED remarkably well when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice."

"You OBSERVED it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure," said Miss Bingley; "and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to SEE your sister make SUCH AN EXHIBITION."

"Certainly not."

…. "Elizabeth Bennet," said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, "is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a VERY MEAN ART."

"Undoubtedly," replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed, "there is a meanness in ALL THE ARTS which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable."

Then, in Chapters 10 and 11, we have the passages I wrote about in the first post in this series, re Lizzy’s imagined portrait hanging at Pemberley, and of Gilpinesque groupings to greatest advantage.

In Chapter 18, first it is Mary Bennet who displays and exposes herself at an exhibition of her musical talents, to the chagrin of Eliza:

“By many significant looks and silent entreaties, did she endeavour to prevent such a proof of complaisance, but in vain; Mary would not understand them; such an opportunity of EXHIBITING was delightful to her, and she began her song…Mary's powers were by no means fitted for such a DISPLAY; her voice was weak, and her manner affected. Elizabeth was in agonies. She looked at Jane, to see how she bore it; but Jane was very COMPOSEDLY talking to Bingley…She looked at her father to entreat his interference, lest Mary should be singing all night. He took the hint, and when Mary had finished her second song, said aloud, "That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to EXHIBIT."

… To Elizabeth it appeared that, had her family made an agreement to EXPOSE themselves as much as they could during the evening, it would have been impossible for them to play their parts with more spirit or finer success; and happy did she think it for Bingley and her sister that some of the EXHIBITION had escaped his notice, and that his feelings were not of a sort to be much distressed by the folly which he must have witnessed.”

Still later in Chapter 18, Darcy and Eliza return to the portraiture metaphor of their Chapters 10-11 repartee, and this time it is on the witty conceit of Eliza sketching Darcy:

"May I ask to what these questions tend?"

"Merely to the ILLUSTRATION of your character," said she, endeavouring to shake off her gravity. "I am trying to MAKE IT OUT."

"And what is your success?"

She shook her head. "I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly."

"I can readily believe," answered he gravely, "that reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to SKETCH my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either."

"But if I do not TAKE YOUR LIKENESS now, I may never have another opportunity."

"I would by no means SUSPEND any pleasure of yours," he coldly replied. “

It was only while composing this post that I recognized for the first time JA’s subtle pun on “suspend”, a word can means “prevent”, but can also refer to a portrait “suspended” on a wall. JA revisits this pun in two later passages (in Chapters 43 & 51) quoted below. Darcy is a very sarcastic punster, as this double entendre is a perfect extension of the “sketching a character” and “taking a likeness” theme in the earlier coded repartee between Darcy and Eliza.

In Chapter 22, we have the first of several passages in which Charlotte’s ‘portrait’ preoccupies Eliza -- Eliza sorely misses her. This first passage shows Lizzy sketching Charlotte in her mind, and finding her sorely wanting—it indeed reflects no credit on Lizzy or on Charlotte:

“She had always felt that Charlotte's opinion of matrimony was not exactly like her own, but she had not supposed it to be possible that, when called into action, she would have sacrificed every better feeling to worldly advantage. Charlotte the wife of Mr. Collins was a most humiliating PICTURE! And to the pang of a friend disgracing herself and sunk in her esteem, was added the distressing conviction that it was impossible for that friend to be tolerably happy in the lot she had chosen.”

Then, in Chapter 26, as Eliza reads Charlotte’s letter describing life at Hunsford, Eliza once again converts the words into a likeness of Charlotte’s character in her mind,with sly wordplay on JA’s part. We have the aesthetics term “softened” which reminds the knowing reader of Gilpin’s famous assertion that “rough” composition was more picturesque than Capability Brown “smoother” landscaping.

“She wrote cheerfully, seemed surrounded with comforts, and mentioned nothing which she could not praise. The house, furniture, neighbourhood, and roads, were all to her taste, and Lady Catherine's behaviour was most friendly and obliging. It was Mr. Collins's PICTURE of Hunsford and Rosings RATIONALLY SOFTENED; and Elizabeth perceived that she must wait for her own visit there to know the rest.”

In Chapter 27, we hear again about Charlotte’s sketch of life at Hunsford going on “smoothly”, in a passage containing several keywords from the currency of sophisticate discussion of the picturesque:

With no greater events than these in the Longbourn family, and otherwise DIVERSIFIED by little beyond the walks to Meryton, sometimes dirty and sometimes cold, did January and February pass away. March was to take Elizabeth to Hunsford. Absence had increased her desire of SEEING Charlotte again, and weakened her disgust of Mr. Collins. There was NOVELTY in the scheme, and as, with such a mother and such uncompanionable sisters, home could not be faultless, A LITTLE CHANGE was not unwelcome FOR ITS OWN SAKE. The journey would moreover give her a PEEP at Jane; and, in short, as the time DREW near, she would have been very sorry for any delay. Everything, however, went on SMOOTHLY, and was finally settled according to Charlotte's FIRST SKETCH.

Then, later in Chapter 27, there is the famous Gilpinesque exclamation by Eliza to her aunt in response to the happy news of the planned excursion to the north:

“…No scheme could have been more agreeable to Elizabeth, and her acceptance of the invitation was most ready and grateful. "Oh, my dear, dear aunt," she rapturously cried, "what delight! what felicity! You give me fresh life and vigour. Adieu to disappointment and spleen. What are young men to ROCKS AND MOUNTAINS? …Lakes, mountains, and rivers shall not be jumbled together in our imaginations; nor when we attempt to describe any particular SCENE, will we begin quarreling about its relative situation. Let our first effusions be less insupportable than those of the generality of travellers."

In Chapter 29, we get another subliminal echo of Gilpin’s four cows (that Lizzy joked about at the end of Chapter 10) in the description by Lady Catherine of the four nieces of Mrs. Jenkinson whom Lady C “most delightfully situated”, as if they were cows! And just as the fourth cow is too “busy” to be beautiful, so too Lady Catherine’s fourth “cow” is too much, it spoils her boasting self portrait!

“Elizabeth found herself quite EQUAL TO THE SCENE, and could OBSERVE the THREE LADIES before her COMPOSEDLY.

… "Why did not you all learn? You ought all to have learned. The Miss Webbs all play, and their father has not so good an income as yours. Do you DRAW?"

"No, not at all."

"What, none of you?"

"Not one."

"That is very strange. But I suppose you had no opportunity. Your mother should have taken you to town every spring for the benefit of masters."

In Chapter 31 it is Darcy who sketches Eliza’s character in a way that amuses her greatly:

"I shall not say you are mistaken," he replied, "because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not your own."

Elizabeth laughed heartily at this PICTURE OF HERSELF…

But then, in Chapter 33, things turn dark when Fitzwilliam lets the cat out of the bag to Eliza (I believe, intentionally, so as to sandbag Darcy’s imminent proposal) about Darcy’s interference with Bingley’s courtship of Jane, and once again Elizabeth sketches Darcy’s likeness:

"I understood that there were some very strong objections against the lady."

"And what ARTS did he use to separate them?"

"He did not talk to me of his own ARTS," said Fitzwilliam, smiling. "He only told me what I have now told you."

…"That is not an unnatural surmise," said Fitzwilliam, "but it is a lessening of the honour of my cousin's triumph very sadly."

This was spoken jestingly; but it appeared to her so just a PICTURE of Mr. Darcy, that she would not trust herself with an answer…”

Then in Chapter 35, in the first proposal scene, art again comes up in its double meaning of “deception”, which raises epistemological questions about the possibility of any likeness being true to its subject:

“…There is but one part of my conduct in the whole affair on which I do not reflect with satisfaction; it is that I condescended to adopt the measures of ART so far as to conceal from him your sister's being in town….”

In Chapter 40, it is Wickham’s turn to be sketched, this time by the Meryton gossip millers:

“…The general prejudice against Mr. Darcy is so violent, that it would be the death of half the good people in Meryton to attempt to PLACE HIM IN AN AMIABLE LIGHT. I am NOT EQUAL TO IT…”

And that brings us to Chapter 43, which is the culmination of this picturesque metaphorizing by JA. JA has set the stage for the reader to viewing Lizzy’s landscape observations through a psychological lens.

“Elizabeth's mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and admired every remarkable spot and POINT OF VIEW. They gradually ascended for half-a-mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, and THE EYE WAS INSTANTLY CAUGHT by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road with some abruptness wound. It was a large, handsome stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high woody hills; and in front, a stream of some natural importance was swelled into greater, but WITHOUT ANY ARTIFICIAL APPEARANCE. Its banks were neither formal nor FALSELY ADORNED. Elizabeth was delighted. She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. They were all of them warm in their admiration; and at that moment she felt that to be mistress of Pemberley might be something!”

And that brings to the first of the two passages I mentioned earlier, and the only one in the novel in which JA uses “suspended’ in the secondary picture-hanging sense Darcy hinted at in Chapter 18:

“…Her aunt now called her to look at a PICTURE. She approached and saw the LIKENESS of Mr. Wickham, SUSPENDED, amongst several other MINIATURES, over the mantelpiece. Her aunt asked her, smilingly, how she liked it. The housekeeper came forward, and told them it was a PICTURE of a young gentleman, the son of her late master's steward, who had been brought up by him at his own expense. "He is now gone into the army," she added; "but I am afraid he has turned out very wild."

Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece with a smile, but Elizabeth could not return it.

"And that," said Mrs. Reynolds, pointing to another of the MINIATURES, "is my master—and very like him. It was DRAWN at the same time as the other—about eight years ago."

"I have heard much of your master's fine person," said Mrs. Gardiner, looking at the PICTURE; "it is a handsome face. But, Lizzy, you can tell us whether it is LIKE or not."

Mrs. Reynolds respect for Elizabeth seemed to increase on this intimation of her knowing her master.

"Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth coloured, and said: "A little."

"And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, ma'am?"

"Yes, very handsome."

"I am sure I know none so handsome; but in the GALLERY UP STAIRS you will see a FINER, LARGER PICTURE of him than this. This room was my late master's favourite room, and these MINIATURES are just as they used to be then. He was very fond of them."

This accounted to Elizabeth for Mr. Wickham's being among them.

Mrs. Reynolds then directed their attention to one of Miss Darcy, drawn when she was only eight years old.

… Elizabeth listened, wondered, doubted, and was impatient for more. Mrs. Reynolds could interest her on no other point. She related the subjects of the PICTURES, the dimensions of the rooms, and the price of the furniture, in vain.

…. The PICTURE-GALLERY, and two or three of the principal bedrooms, were all that remained to be shown. In the former were many good PAINTINGS; but Elizabeth knew NOTHING OF THE ART; and from such as had been already visible below, she had willingly turned to look at some DRAWINGS of Miss Darcy's, in crayons, whose subjects were usually more interesting, and also more intelligible.

In the gallery there were many family PORTRAITS, but they could have little to fix the attention of a stranger. Elizabeth walked in quest of the only FACE whose features would be known to her. At last it arrested her—and she beheld a STRIKING RESEMBLANCE to Mr. Darcy, with such a smile over the face as she REMEMBERED TO HAVE SOMETIMES SEEN when he looked at her. She stood several minutes before the PICTURE, in earnest CONTEMPLATION, and returned to it again before they quitted the GALLERY. Mrs. Reynolds informed them that it had been TAKEN in his father's lifetime.

There was certainly at this moment, in Elizabeth's mind, a more gentle sensation towards THE ORIGINAL than she had ever felt at the height of their acquaintance….Every idea that had been brought forward by the housekeeper was favourable to his character, and as she stood before THE CANVAS ON WHICH HE WAS REPRESENTED, and fixed HIS EYES UPON HERSELF, she thought of his regard with a deeper sentiment of gratitude than it had ever raised before; she remembered its warmth, and SOFTENED ITS IMPROPRIETY OF EXPRESSION.

…She had instinctively turned away; but stopping on his approach, received his compliments with an embarrassment impossible to be overcome. Had his first APPEARANCE, or his RESEMBLANCE to the PICTURE they had just been examining, been insufficient to assure the other two that they now saw Mr. Darcy, the gardener's expression of surprise, on beholding his master, must immediately have told it.”

Then in Chapter 44, Lizzy’s sketch of Darcy’s character has now been altered by her:

“Of Mr. Darcy it was now a matter of anxiety to think well; and, as far as their acquaintance reached, there was no fault to find. They could not be untouched by his politeness; and had they DRAWN his character from their own feelings and his servant's report, without any reference to any other account, the circle in Hertfordshire to which he was known would not have recognized it for Mr. Darcy.”

In Chapter 51, Lizzy is forced to resketch Darcy’s character one more time, and the pun on “suspense” reappears at the end:  

“It was exactly A SCENE, and exactly among people, where he had apparently least to do, and least temptation to go. Conjectures as to the meaning of it, rapid and wild, hurried into her brain; but she was satisfied with none. Those that best pleased her, as placing his conduct IN THE NOBLEST LIGHT, seemed most improbable. She could not bear such SUSPENSE…”

Then finally in Chapter 56, we have two more puns:

"It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the use of his reason. But your ARTS and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. You may have DRAWN HIM IN."

"If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it."

Once again the double entendre on “arts’ and “art”, but a new very clever one, in that Lizzy may have “drawn Darcy in” (i.e., deceived him), but also has “drawn him in” (in the sense of drawing in favorable details in his “likeness”).

So you can see from all of the above that Jane Austen has very consciously and meticulously spread the metaphors of portraiture across the entire novel, which goes to the heart of the story and the characterizations.

In my next post, I will put all of the above in the context of the two theoreticians of the picturesque, Gilpin and Mrs. Reynolds’s namesake, Joshua Reynolds.

Cheers, ARNIE

@JaneAustenCode on Twitter

The “Hookup” linking Lady Bertram’s Carpet-Work, James I’s Carr-pet, & LM Montgomery’s Rug-Hooking

In her excellent literary blog, fellow Janeite and JASNA member Sarah Emsley wrote the following  post today:

http://sarahemsley.com/2015/04/24/the-secret-diary-of-l-m-montgomery-and-nora-lefurgey/

“The Secret Diary of L.M. Montgomery and Nora Lefurgey”

In relevant part, Sarah wrote:   “Inspired by what Emily [Midorikawa] and Emma Claire [Sweeney] wrote about the secret joint diary, Sue [Lange] sent me an excerpt from the book she’s working on, called Hooked on Montgomery: The Hooked and Braided Rugs in the Life of L.M. Montgomery, and with her permission, I’m pleased to share it with all of you here.. This month…I’ve been rereading Anne of Windy Poplars and thinking about Montgomery’s novels again….Next Friday I’ll post about Anne of Windy Poplars (and the reason I don’t like it very much…)”  END QUOTE

After reading the excerpt Sarah quoted from Sue Lange’s book-in-progress, I have the following comments regarding what I believe is a major overlooked implication of Montgomery’s striking focus on rug hooking. I first recommend an excellent article written a decade ago: “Bosom Friends: Lesbian Desire in LM Montgomery’s Anne Books” by Laura Robinson, in Canadian Literature, Spring 2004, # 180, ppg. 12-28. In particular Robinson’s introductory paragraph speaks volumes--she begins with a quotation of Montgomery protesting too much to herself, so to speak:

“ “I am not a Lesbian," fifty-eight-year-old L.M. Montgomery wrote in her journal in response to an increasingly problematic relationship with Isobel,1 a female schoolteacher in her late twenties (Selected Journals 8 Feb 1932). One might think that Montgomery protests too much, especially since she also, intriguingly, claims to understand the "horrible craving" of the lesbian "much better than [Isobel] understands it herself" (SJ 24 June 1932). Yet Montgomery convincingly represents Isobel's relentless pursuit as pathological. The younger woman threatened suicide and professed undying love for the novelist: "I'll die without you. You've always shone like a golden star in my life . . ." (SJ 8 Feb 1932). Montgomery was disturbed yet fascinated by Isobel's interest in her, labelling Isobel an "unconscious" lesbian (10 June 1932). In Anne of Windy Poplars (1936), a novel published four years after these entries, Montgomery depicts a relationship that seems to draw on her own experience with Isobel. As I will discuss in detail later, Anne pursues a friendship with an unhappy spinster schoolteacher, Katherine Brooke. Katherine voices feelings for Anne that echo Isobel's for Montgomery…”

The rest of Robinson’s article makes equally compelling reading. For today, I want to tie Robinson’s basic thesis to Montgomery’s curious obsession with rug hooking, and I give full credit to Jane Austen for sensitizing me to see this point. I.e, what immediately came to my mind as I read Sue Lange’s account was the section of my recent presentation (at both the JASNA AGM in Montreal last October, and also my re-presentation of same to the Portland, Oregon JASNA Chapter), in which I presented a parade of sexual puns and slang hidden in plain sight in Mansfield Park, as follows:

“For those of you who haven’t believed a word of it about Mary’s pun on “rears” as human bottoms being subjected to human “vices”, there is one other place in Mansfield Park  where “rear” appears within a single word, and thirteen others where the word appears in the same disguised form of “r ear” as it does in Shakespeare’s bottom joke hidden in plain sight in Antony’s appeal to “your REARS”. I hope that a 1-minute tour through those 14 usages, with sexual puns in bold italics, will give you pause, because each one just happens to appear in a sexualized context”

In that quick tour of Austenian sexual quotes, I included the 16-year old Jane Austen’s History of England Sharade on James the First and his male pet Carr (“car-pet”) as being echoed in the passage about Tom and Yates’s “friendship, if friendship it might be called”, and I also referred to the usually passive Lady Bertram’s remarkably strong reaction to her handsome husband returning home after a LONG absence:

“By not one of the circle was he listened to with such unbroken, UNALLOYED ENJOYMENT as by his wife, who was really extremely happy to see him, and whose feelings were so WARMED by his sudden arrival as to place her nearer AGITATION than she had been for the last twenty years. She had been almost fluttered for a few minutes, and still remained so sensibly animated as to put away her work, move Pug from her side, and give all her attention and all the rest of her sofa to her husband. She had no anxieties for anybody to cloud HER PLEASURE: her own time had been irreproachably spent during his absence: she had done a great deal of carpet-work, and made many yards of fringe; and she would have answered as freely for the good conduct and useful pursuits of all the young people as for her own. It was so agreeable to her to see him again, and hear him talk, to have heR EAR AMUSED and HER wHOLE comprehension FILLED by his narratives, that she began particularly to feel how dreadfully she must have missed him, and how impossible it would have been for her TO BEAR a LENGTHENED absence.”

The capitalized words reveal most of the numerous sexual puns hidden in plain sight (Lady B having her rear amused and her hole filled are my favorites), which suggest that Lady Bertram is very VERY happy to see her husband again, after those many months of separation. But the part that connects directly to the rug-hooking obsession of LM Montgomery is the following:

“…She had no anxieties for anybody to cloud HER PLEASURE: her own time had been irreproachably spent during his absence: SHE HAD DONE A GREAT DEAL OF CARPET-WORK, and MADE MANY YARDS OF FRINGE….”

Hmmm… Does this suggest that, like sailors at sea availing themselves of the sexual partners at hand, Lady Bertram has made do with a female sexual partner (yes, I am thinking of Fanny, eventually replaced by Susan!) during her husband’s absence? I think so, and if I am right, then “carpet” refers to the female sexual organ (which it resembles) in the Jane Austen Code, both in works written by Jane Austen when she was 16, and again when she was 38, suggesting it was far from a (forgive my pun) “fleeting” definition. And I assure you that there are several other passages referring to rugs and carpets scattered in JA’s other writings which are also interesting, sexual innuendo-wise.

My point in all this being that it is then extremely plausible to speculate that the hooking of rugs may well have carried a very similar hidden meaning in the secret lexicon of LM Montgomery’s fiction. And that would make especially great sense, given that Montgomery was convincingly shown to have been an avid Janeite by another JASNA member, Miriam Rheingold Fuller, here:

http://www.jasna.org/persuasions/on-line/vol29no1/fuller.html

“Jane of Green Gables: L. M. Montgomery’s Reworking of Austen’s Legacy”

Just think about how perfectly (and in accordance with Occam’s Razor, how simply) reading “rug-hooking” as code for lesbian sex fits with the following briefly quoted comments from Lange’s book:

 “L.M. Montgomery and her friend Nora Lefurgey make a number of witty references to rug hooking in the collaborative “burlesque” diary they kept from January to June 1903, in which they catalogued their various larks and jokes…. Within a few months of arriving, Lefurgey moved…to board…with Montgomery and her grandmother. Montgomery & Lefurgey would share a lifelong friendship, despite losing contact at some points. The diary primarily revolves around the alleged pursuit of potential male suitors. In the midst of the teasing banter between the two women…are several humorous and informative references to rug hooking….”

Sounds to me just like Harriet Smith virtually moving in with Emma, and like Martha Lloyd actually moving in at Chawton Cottage with the Austen women (and JA referring to Mrs. Stent ejaculating about cocks and hens in her 1800 letter to Martha). I’ve argued many times in the past that Jane Austen and Martha Lloyd appear to have a long-term complicated lesbian love relationship.

But back to Montgomery. Lange refers to gossip about rug-hooking: “If Mrs. “Will Sandy” was hooking rugs for her son over the winter it certainly could have set local tongues wagging with speculation that a wedding announcement was imminent.” Or was it gossip about something else?

Re “the connection between rug-making and suitors”, and Montgomery’s mock outrage “at this slur”, I think Lange is missing the deeper, coded point when she explains “One can understand why Lefurgey was somewhat dubious about Montgomery’s motives, as most consider the task of cutting rags mundane and dreary. The exchange between the two young friends illustrates that rug hooking at that time was a means to gain favour with a beau and a legitimate way to spend time socially with a suitor’s family.” Maybe it was a means to something else entirely!

A lesbian interpretation adds a droll unintended ironic humor to Lange’s averring “The secret diary shows how popular the practice of rug hooking was in P.E.I. at the beginning of the 20th century. It was not only Montgomery’s older female relatives, such as her aunt Annie Campbell, who participated, but also her contemporaries, including Lefurgey and Lucy Macneill.” I would not be surprised if it was indeed more popular a practice than has heretofore been recognized!

And perhaps Montgomery’s grandmother’s intolerance “towards strangers who came to the house” was about the sexual aspects of Montgomery’s social rug-hooking activities.

And finally this from Sarah’s postscript:  “…I couldn’t resist continuing with Anne of Windy Poplars …I came across this comment from Marilla about the braided rugs she plans to give Anne for her new house. Trust Anne to want something old-fashioned instead of the latest thing. “I’m giving Anne that half dozen braided rugs I have in the garret. I never supposed she’d want them – they’re so old-fashioned, and nobody seems to want anything but hooked mats now. But she asked me for them – said she’d rather have them than anything else for her floors. They are pretty. I made them of the nicest rags, and braided them in stripes. It was such company these last few winters.”  

Indeed, Lady Bertram!

Cheers, ARNIE

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