Behind the Bookshelf II:
The cushioned seat of Dalnavert’s grand bay window would have been a lovely spot for the Macdonalds to cuddle up with a book. After studying the hauntingly perplexing short story “The Library Window,” I am inclined to believe that Maragaret Oliphant would agree that this spot has a comforting appeal!
Before the end of breast cancer awareness month, we’d like to highlight how cancer affected people in the Victorian era and compare our modern understanding of the illness. In our educational programming and lectures, we explore the daily lives and struggles of the average person in Victorian times, often with a focus on how strict patriarchal society affected every aspect of women’s lives. In this case, it led to a severely warped medical understanding of women’s bodies.
By Drew Cruikshank, Intern
At the present time, most authors take immense pride in their work and have no issue with receiving credit for it. However, it was quite common for authors during the nineteenth century and prior to use pseudonyms. Authors would take on a nom de plume for a multitude of reasons, one of them being to avoid stigmatization from their society. Though, it was much easier for men to excel as authors for, as Charlotte Brontë wrote herself, authoresses were “liable to be looked on with prejudice.”[i] In spite of this bias, much of the nineteenth century’s most brilliant writing came from the pen of a woman. With this, we will be discussing seven leading authoresses of the nineteenth century who chose to remain anonymous, including Jane Austen, Amantine Lucille Aurore Dupin, the Brontë sisters, Mary Ann Evans, and Louisa May Alcott.
Jane Austen, or A Lady (1775-1817)
Portrait of Jane Austen by Cassandra Austen, c. 1810
Regardless of whether you have actually read anything by Jane Austen, you have probably been assigned one of her novels at some point in your academic career and / or have seen one of the numerous adaptations that have been made. Austen is a household name, best known for novels like Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility. Despite being an esteemed author today, in her lifetime, Austen chose to remain anonymous, receiving a modest living from her novels. For her first published novel, Sense and Sensibility (1811), Austen decided to sign her work with ‘By a Lady.’ Unlike other writers of her time, she did not take on a male name. While she did not wish to reveal her own identity, she did want the general public to realize and understand that a woman, and more importantly a woman of high standing, was just as capable of writing a great novel than any man was. After the success of her first novel, Austen went on to publish Pride and Prejudice (1813), attributing it to ‘the author of Sense and Sensibility.’ She also published Mansfield Park (1814) and Emma (1815) anonymously. After she passed away in 1817, her brother published Northanger Abbey and Persuasion, revealing in the biographical note the truth about Austen’s identity.
Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin, or George Sand (1804-1876)
Portrait of George Sand, 1864
Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin was a French Romantic novelist—one of the best, surpassing her male counterparts. Finding married life too repressive, Dupin left her husband but soon realized that she would not be able to sustain herself on her measly monthly allowance and took to writing. After authoring a few collaborative novels, she wrote and then published Indiana (1832), which was the first novel she signed with the pseudonym George Sand. Unlike other authoresses, Dupin’s pseudonym quickly consumed her identity. For Dupin, her writing was an extension of herself, intended to raise women up from their “abject position.” In a letter to Frederic Girerd from 1837 she expands on this idea:
People think it very natural and pardonable to trifle with what is most sacred when dealing with women: women do not count in the social or moral order. I solemnly vow—and this is the first glimmer of courage and ambition in my life! —that I shall raise woman from her abject position, both through myself and my writing.[ii]
Taking her activism one step further, Dupin took to the streets, wearing menswear at a time when a woman wearing pants called for a hefty fine. In taking on a pseudonym and wearing whatever she pleased, Dupin actively subverted traditional gender roles.
Charlotte, Emily, and Anne Brontë, or Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (1816-1855; 1818-1848; 1820-1849)
Portrait of the Brontë Sisters (Anne; Emily; Charlotte) by Branwell Brontë, c. 1834
Trying to succeed as an authoress during this time was incredibly difficult, since the expectation was that women would spend all of their time tending to their family. Further, the Brontës wished to delve into themes of class, sexuality, religion, and feminism in their novels—topics which the public considered taboo for women to write about. At times drawing from their own life experiences, Kristen Pond states that their novels focus on “the ways women’s lives do not fit within the strictures of the realist Bildungsroman plot.”[iii] After Charlotte had published her second novel, Shirley (1849), prominent critic George Henry Lewes (who would later form a relationship with Mary Ann Evans, better known as George Eliot) discovered that ‘Currer Bell’, the pseudonym that Charlotte had successfully been writing under for several years, was in fact Charlotte. Though, there has been discussion that Lewes’ did suspect that ‘Currer’ was in fact a woman, mentioning in his review that “the authoress is unquestionably setting forth her own experience.”[iv] Obviously disgruntled about Lewes’ discovery, Charlotte wrote in a letter to him in 1849 that she did not want the public to view her as a woman:
I wish all reviewers believed ‘Currer Bell’ to be a man; they would be more just to him. You will, I know, keep measuring me by some standard of what you deem becoming to my sex; where I am not what you consider graceful you will condemn me.[v]
Mary Ann Evans, or George Eliot (1819-1880)
Portrait of George Eliot by François D’Albert Durade, 1849
Mary Ann Evans was one of the most dominant writers during the Victorian era, known widely for her novel Middlemarch (1871). Evans chose to write under a pseudonym because she wished to write more expansively, beyond just romances. Like other leading authoresses, she challenged the expectations that critics had for women’s writing. Eventually, though, the literary community accepted Evans as a writer, partially a result of her relationship with George Henry Lewes. While her relationship gave her more freedom to write as she pleased, she still felt criticism from those around her, specifically because Lewes was already a married man. Evans, like Dupin, was known by her pseudonym and chose to keep her alias.
Louisa May Alcott, or A. M. Barnard (1832-1888)
Portrait of Louisa May Alcott, 1870
Louisa May Alcott was an American novelist, best known for her novel Little Women (1868-69). Prior to Little Women’s success, though, Alcott used several pseudonyms. As an up and coming writer, Alcott used the name Flora Fairfield, as she was not confident enough in her writing just yet to include her real name. Then, depending on what she wished to write about, Alcott would either use her real name or the pseudonym A.M. Barnard. She specifically used this pen name when she wrote thrillers—focusing on spies and revenge—like Behind a Mask, or, A Woman’s Power (1866) and The Abbot’s Ghost: A Christmas Story (1867). The name A.M. Barnard made it possible for Alcott to support herself financially and gave her the freedom to write without stigmatization. After publishing Little Women, Alcott tended to avoid discussing the novels she wrote under her pseudonym.
During the nineteenth century, authoresses would take on pseudonyms for several reasons; however, as we have seen with these seven women, more often than not it was because, as women, they were not regarded as ‘real’ writers by society’s standards. Nonetheless, they found power in anonymity and it is due to these women that we have some of the most well-known and praised classic books.
Bibliography
Gary, Franklin. “Charlotte Brontë and George Henry Lewes.” PMLA: Publications of the Modern Language Association of America 51, no. 2 (June 1, 1936): 518-542. https://www-jstor-org.uml.idm.oclc.org/stable/458068.
Pond K. (2019) Brontë, Charlotte. In: Scholl L. (eds) The Palgrave Encyclopedia of Victorian Women’s Writing. Palgrave Macmillan, Cham. https://doi-org.uml.idm.oclc.org/10.1007/978-3-030-02721-6_31-1.
Winegarten, Renee. The Double Life of George Sand, Woman and Writer: A Critical Biography. New York: Basic Books Inc., 1978.
[i] Pond K. (2019) Brontë, Charlotte. In: Scholl L. (eds) The Palgrave Encyclopedia of Victorian Women’s Writing. Palgrave Macmillan, Cham. https://doi-org.uml.idm.oclc.org/10.1007/978-3-030-02721-6_31-1, qtd. From Wuthering Heights, Norton Edition, p.4
[ii] Renee Winegarten, The Double Life of George Sand: woman and writer (New York: Basic Books Inc., 1978), 161.
[iii] Pond K. (2019) Brontë, Charlotte. In: Scholl L. (eds) The Palgrave Encyclopedia of Victorian Women's Writing. Palgrave Macmillan, Cham. https://doi-org.uml.idm.oclc.org/10.1007/978-3-030-02721-6_31-1
[iv] Franklin Gary, “Charlotte Brontë and George Henry Lewes,” PMLA 51, no. 2 (June 1, 1936): 527
[v] Ibid.
Above is a Podcast of the writer interviewing Dr. Raminder Saini about ayahs and subjecthood in the British Empire. The podcast was made for a class exercise to help students like our writer Morgan Marshall discuss the scholarship and content of their research. Take a listen and read on!
by Morgan Marshall
“ The ayahs of the present century, more akin to serfs than the domestic servants to which we are ordinarily accustomed”. - A.C Marshall in the 1922 Quiver Magazine.
Ayahs are single Indian women who worked as both domestic servants and nannies for British children in the 19th century. Ayahs worked in India for British families as well as aboard ships that travelled between Europe and India. In the 1922 edition of the Quiver, the author draws comparison between ayahs and serfs; instead of being bound to the land, ayahs were bound to British children. Although, tied to these children, they weren’t slave-like laborers, but rather motherly figures travelling colonial “water highways” with British families as a career. Read on to find out more about these Indian women who raised British children.
In India, ayahs provided expertise to their memsahib (the British mother they worked for) about how to survive and thrive in the colonial environment. They provided complete childcare for the white children, including feeding, bathing, clothing, and playing with the children. Often spending more time with their ayah than their biological parents. They also provided domestic and medical advice for the memsahib. For example, ayahs constantly stressed the use of wet nurses, this ensured the baby would get an abundant supply of nutrient milk and the memsahib would not exhaust herself. This was essential as the child mortality rates were double that of Europe.
On ships, ayahs were in charge of complete childcare, cleaning, laundry, looking after the baggage, and memsahib. Some even qualified as nurses and sailors. Antony Pareira, for example, was an experienced ayah that traveled between Britain and India 54 times and to Holland once. She was a young mother looking for adventure, finding her “life’s calling” by caring for children and travelling the “water highways” of the British Empire. This brought Indian women freedom to travel and explore the world, while earning decent money to provide for her own children back home.
What makes ayahs’ work so interesting is their inevitably close relationship with British children. This broke racial boundaries because ayahs were raising white children, while advising white mothers. Mary Sherwood, for example, was a Victorian mother living in India who wrote in her journal that her children “carry in their hearts the Ayah’s laughter and tears”. This relationship crossed racial and social boundaries, creating an ambivalent space in the British family. Many children became more familiar with Indian languages and culture because of the close relationship they shared with their ayah. So close, that when Mary Sherwood’s infant suddenly died, she heard her ayah “un-feignedly” weeping for “her boy”.
Life in Britain wasn’t always easy for foreign workers. The Ayahs’ Home was established to house, feed, clothe, and protect ayahs in England. Founded in 1897 by Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, the Home had 30 rooms and every year over 100 ayahs stayed there. The women were provided with a safe place, which offered Indian food, familiar languages, and culture. This institution was not only a place of refuge for Indian women but also doubled as a Victorian employment agency, helping Indian women find employment for the journey home. In 1900, the Rogers could no longer run the home, it then came under the control of Christian missionaries, as they saw the opportunity to help foreign women in need.
What is most fascinating about ayahs is how little information there is on them! I was astonished that historians knew so little about such courageous women that broke gender, race and class boundaries throughout the centuries. Their close relationship with British children allowed these women into important positions at the heart of a Victorian household. Whether their employers wanted or not, ayahs had a lasting impact on future British generations. Impacts that were undesirable to the British, as Victorians believed children were being “culturally contaminated” by a “weaker race”. However, this did not cease the employment of ayahs, their expertise with children was undeniably excellent.
About this blog writer: Morgan Marshall is an undergraduate student studying History and Art History at the University of British Columbia, Okanagan Campus.
with Arlene Young
Sunday, April 28 @ 1:30
$15 Admission | $12 Members
In George Gissing’s 1890s novel about single working women, the owner and administrator of a typewriting and business school warns the young women in her charge about the political implications of women’s work:
An excellent governess, a perfect hospital nurse, do work which is invaluable [she asserts]; but for our cause of emancipation they are no good; nay, they are harmful. Men point to them, and say: Imitate these, keep to your proper world.—Our proper world is the world of intelligence, of honest effort, of moral strength.
But why, at the end of the nineteenth century, would typewriting be uniquely perceived as representing the world of intelligence and moral strength, while teaching and nursing were not? Come and discover some of the social oddities of Victorian working and domestic culture that produced these attitudes toward women and work, and learn about the ways in which women turned these attitudes to their advantage.
