Yes, that's right. My final project changed dramatically between the proposal and the draft.
For those who've been nuts enough to read my drivel, I was originally going to write about the simultaneity of silence and voice exhibited by Avery. (I even had an awesome title: Explosive Silence!" Yeah, don't you just love it!) The intent was to offer an alternative reading to the only two scholarly works I could find that specifically addressed Williams' narrative. However, as I began to compile and read my sources, I found few that seemed to directly touch upon my selected idea. I was, frankly, extremely frustrated with this to the point that I was convinced I'd have to make something up; but then, fear got the better of me and I kept on pulling out source after source. I tried a variety of approaches: Law and Patriarchy vs. Women; Women against a Patriarchial Voice; Patriarchy's Voice and Violence against Women... None of these bore any fruit.
So, I backed up and went back to Caldwell and DeWaard late last week (after my presentation) and considered their sentimental take again. I juxtaposed this beside the Kasserman book, Fall River Outrage: Life, Murder, and Justice in Early Industrial New England, and noticed something: While there's very little on Avery, there's quite a bit on Cornell as a woman stuck within two faults: one that clings to traditional values and another in Fall River itself that is moving in a new direction. I went back and looked at Williams' text and realized that she herself was struggling with how to represent Fall River's status as an industrial town; in particular, to what degree was Fall River itself culpable in Cornell's death.
So, I went back and considered texts that evaluated conduct rhetoric, female chastity (or lack thereof) and found that if one anthropomorphized Fall River, Williams treats it on one hand as a wronged husband (similarly to how the male relations of female victims regarded rapists) and, on the other, as the seducer. Avery, then, becomes a shadow of his former self.
While I won't go as far as to say that I'm pleased with the results, I was pleased that I found enough material in the book and beyond it to write something that I actually got excited about writing. The current draft is far from polished and I know that I want to add more to it, but not the point that the overall effect will be lost.
Guess I'll find out when someone reviews it...
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Transcending
While I spent some time last night looking for more contextual material, I started thinking about how Cornell's plight and Williams' narrative precedes the ideas central to Transcendentalism. Although Emerson hadn't written Nature by the time Fall River was published, I can't help but see how aspects of what Williams seems to rail against suggest an affinity, to one degree or another, with Transcendentalism in particular. It seems as though Cornell's death is, in part, due to her involvement with man-made notions rather than those associated with man's (not necessarily humanity's) oneness with Nature.
Further, I wonder if the patriarchial disembodied voice that speaks for Avery exists between the cracks of Transcendental thought? If one assumes that a more agrarian society relates to Transcendental notions (even if in a superficial fashion), does such an approach if viewed from a traditional Western perspective mean that women have a specific place relative to men? And, if so, does Cornell's job-related transience offend that notion? If this is the case, does the narrative (assuming it supports such a read of Transcendentalism) indict her?
Further, I wonder if the patriarchial disembodied voice that speaks for Avery exists between the cracks of Transcendental thought? If one assumes that a more agrarian society relates to Transcendental notions (even if in a superficial fashion), does such an approach if viewed from a traditional Western perspective mean that women have a specific place relative to men? And, if so, does Cornell's job-related transience offend that notion? If this is the case, does the narrative (assuming it supports such a read of Transcendentalism) indict her?
Sunday, March 29, 2009
The Factory Acts
Various Factory Acts were passed in Great Britain in the early and mid 1800. Most of it deals with the work conditions experienced by children, but women are mentioned specifically alongside them while men are not.
In a sense, one could argue that this created a reality that did not exist before: by creating laws to protect them, these acts suggest that women and children actually exist and can be exploited. Yes, ideally these acts were designed to protect them, but it also clearly reveals how each successive act revealed how they were being manipulated previously. It's sort of like the various Jim Crow laws that appeared after Reconstruction. These laws redfefined both women and children and further, at least for a time, made them distinct from men.
In a sense, one could argue that this created a reality that did not exist before: by creating laws to protect them, these acts suggest that women and children actually exist and can be exploited. Yes, ideally these acts were designed to protect them, but it also clearly reveals how each successive act revealed how they were being manipulated previously. It's sort of like the various Jim Crow laws that appeared after Reconstruction. These laws redfefined both women and children and further, at least for a time, made them distinct from men.
Avery's Wikipedia Entry
It is incredibly fascinating that Avery has a wiki entry, but Cornell, his alleged victim, does not. I suppose the argument would be that Avery was the first clergyman put on trial for murder in the US (according to the wiki... I'll confirm this claim before writing my research paper); nevertheless, Avery continues to speak while Cornell does not.
Needless to say, this discovery falls right in with my planned paper. Just like the previous post, what we see here is a simultaneoulsy silent and overpowering patriarchial voice that smothers Cornell. Yes, there are certainly other themes (religious intolerance for one), but the existence of an overarching, institutional power structure is what intrigues me.
Still, I suppose one could argue that infamy has always allowed one to live on beyond any supposed victims. How many people know the names of Jack the Ripper's victims? Or Jeffrey Dahmer's? Or Ted Bundy's? (Note that each of these men prey primarily on minorities, with Jack and Bundy targeting women and Dahmer targeting minorities.) I suppose Avery benefits (?) from the same influence.
Needless to say, this discovery falls right in with my planned paper. Just like the previous post, what we see here is a simultaneoulsy silent and overpowering patriarchial voice that smothers Cornell. Yes, there are certainly other themes (religious intolerance for one), but the existence of an overarching, institutional power structure is what intrigues me.
Still, I suppose one could argue that infamy has always allowed one to live on beyond any supposed victims. How many people know the names of Jack the Ripper's victims? Or Jeffrey Dahmer's? Or Ted Bundy's? (Note that each of these men prey primarily on minorities, with Jack and Bundy targeting women and Dahmer targeting minorities.) I suppose Avery benefits (?) from the same influence.
A Report of the Trial
I found this on Google Books. It's about as long as Williams' novel but claims to be an accurate record of the actual court proceedings and trial. On the one hand, it's rather dry; on the other, it's an interesting alternative to Williams' novel for those concerned with accuracy. Another interesting note is the prevalence of male names involved in the trial. Men are EVERYWHERE in this.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Research Project Proposal
Didn't notice that this was supposed to be posted on the blog until this morning, so...
Catharine Williams’ Fall River: An Authentic Narrative has received limited literary analysis to date. It may be that, as Patricia Caldwell implies in her essay, “In ‘Happy America’: Discovering Catharine Williams’s Fall River for the Women Writers Project,” the novel contains relatively little literary value for it is a narrative retelling of the investigation and trial of Methodist Minister Ephraim K. Avery for the murder of Sarah Maria Cornell. However, both Caldwell’s essay and Jeanne DeWaard’s, “‘Indelicate Exposure’: Sentiment and Law in Fall River: An Authentic Narrative,” find something intriguing about the manner in which Williams represents Sarah Maria Cornell. While DeWaard deconstructs the sentimental in Williams’s novel by examining how Cornell’s victimization vindicates and castigates her, Caldwell focuses on how Cornell’s transience and lack of familial connections challenges views of her as the stock female sentimental character. Interestingly, both essays only touch on the intersection of class and power with gender, particularly in their consideration of how Avery’s trials end in his acquittal. In my essay, I will consider how Avery’s gender, social standing, and religious background likely influenced the two verdicts despite his relative silence. Not only will the essay consider his voice relative to that of Cornell, but it will consider how he serves as a literary foil to traditional male antagonists in early American novels as a result.
Reverend Avery is an inversion of Cornell’s treatment in Fall River. While In addition to a rich biography, Cornell is personalized with her own dialogue; by contrast Avery appears relatively mute. However, most of his voice is found in the efforts of his brother and his attorneys. Williams’ representation of Avery is less that of an individual and more akin to a multi-vocal, oppressive patriarchal utterance that stifles both life and justice for his alleged victim. Even the verdict handed down by his peers, land owning white men, echoes Avery’s own declaration of innocence. Cornell’s murder goes unaddressed and her death is silenced as a suicide under the pressure of Avery’s deceptively mute speech. Williams’ novel attempts to confront Avery’s multi-vocality and, by doing so, expose the threats that Cornell and women like her posed to the patriarchy Avery represents.
Ironically, Williams’s decision to keep Avery mute while giving voice to Cornell, is double-edged. While we learn a great deal about Cornell, what we learn is limited to her individual position rather than to her place within a larger social framework. Conversely, Avery represents that very same framework without offering any insight as to his own humanity (or lack thereof). The socio-economic realities of the day, touched in passing by Williams, are told in fragments of both characters’ stories. One must consider the ramifications of this choice in order to comprehend how Fall River speaks to the events of the country at the time.
A reflection on Williams’s representation of Avery will highlight the manner in which Avery serves as a warning not just against injustice, but against the realities of institutionalized misogyny and classism. Avery’s lack of speech is granted because he does not need a voice to act; society will act on his behalf to protect itself. Williams’s choice to keep Avery “mute,” while not necessarily intentional, reflects her own understanding of male hegemony in America. It also reminds those of us in an increasingly media-driven age to be aware of the complexity hidden under the guise of predetermined roles of crime perpetrators and their victims for something is certainly being said despite the obvious words and the silence.
Works Cited
Caldwell, Patricia. “In ‘Happy America’: Discovering Catherine Williams’s Fall River for the Women Writers Project.” South Central Review 11.2 (1994): 79 – 98.
DeWaard, Jeanne Elders. “ ‘Indelicate Exposure’: Sentiment and Law in Fall River: An Authentic Narrative.” American Literature 74 (2002): 373 – 401.
Catharine Williams’ Fall River: An Authentic Narrative has received limited literary analysis to date. It may be that, as Patricia Caldwell implies in her essay, “In ‘Happy America’: Discovering Catharine Williams’s Fall River for the Women Writers Project,” the novel contains relatively little literary value for it is a narrative retelling of the investigation and trial of Methodist Minister Ephraim K. Avery for the murder of Sarah Maria Cornell. However, both Caldwell’s essay and Jeanne DeWaard’s, “‘Indelicate Exposure’: Sentiment and Law in Fall River: An Authentic Narrative,” find something intriguing about the manner in which Williams represents Sarah Maria Cornell. While DeWaard deconstructs the sentimental in Williams’s novel by examining how Cornell’s victimization vindicates and castigates her, Caldwell focuses on how Cornell’s transience and lack of familial connections challenges views of her as the stock female sentimental character. Interestingly, both essays only touch on the intersection of class and power with gender, particularly in their consideration of how Avery’s trials end in his acquittal. In my essay, I will consider how Avery’s gender, social standing, and religious background likely influenced the two verdicts despite his relative silence. Not only will the essay consider his voice relative to that of Cornell, but it will consider how he serves as a literary foil to traditional male antagonists in early American novels as a result.
Reverend Avery is an inversion of Cornell’s treatment in Fall River. While In addition to a rich biography, Cornell is personalized with her own dialogue; by contrast Avery appears relatively mute. However, most of his voice is found in the efforts of his brother and his attorneys. Williams’ representation of Avery is less that of an individual and more akin to a multi-vocal, oppressive patriarchal utterance that stifles both life and justice for his alleged victim. Even the verdict handed down by his peers, land owning white men, echoes Avery’s own declaration of innocence. Cornell’s murder goes unaddressed and her death is silenced as a suicide under the pressure of Avery’s deceptively mute speech. Williams’ novel attempts to confront Avery’s multi-vocality and, by doing so, expose the threats that Cornell and women like her posed to the patriarchy Avery represents.
Ironically, Williams’s decision to keep Avery mute while giving voice to Cornell, is double-edged. While we learn a great deal about Cornell, what we learn is limited to her individual position rather than to her place within a larger social framework. Conversely, Avery represents that very same framework without offering any insight as to his own humanity (or lack thereof). The socio-economic realities of the day, touched in passing by Williams, are told in fragments of both characters’ stories. One must consider the ramifications of this choice in order to comprehend how Fall River speaks to the events of the country at the time.
A reflection on Williams’s representation of Avery will highlight the manner in which Avery serves as a warning not just against injustice, but against the realities of institutionalized misogyny and classism. Avery’s lack of speech is granted because he does not need a voice to act; society will act on his behalf to protect itself. Williams’s choice to keep Avery “mute,” while not necessarily intentional, reflects her own understanding of male hegemony in America. It also reminds those of us in an increasingly media-driven age to be aware of the complexity hidden under the guise of predetermined roles of crime perpetrators and their victims for something is certainly being said despite the obvious words and the silence.
Works Cited
Caldwell, Patricia. “In ‘Happy America’: Discovering Catherine Williams’s Fall River for the Women Writers Project.” South Central Review 11.2 (1994): 79 – 98.
DeWaard, Jeanne Elders. “ ‘Indelicate Exposure’: Sentiment and Law in Fall River: An Authentic Narrative.” American Literature 74 (2002): 373 – 401.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
I'm sooo ticked
I just wrote a very long post and, while trying to copy it (which you apparently can't do), I lost the whole damned thing.
Anyway, to make a long post short, I'm thinking of exploring how male authority figures who abuse their power over women have changed. I'm wondering of the representation of a religious figure was a popular representation in early American novels and will consider putting Fall River beside The Scarlett Letter.
I'll come back in later to write, more or less, what I spent the last fifteen mintues on before I lost it.
Anyway, to make a long post short, I'm thinking of exploring how male authority figures who abuse their power over women have changed. I'm wondering of the representation of a religious figure was a popular representation in early American novels and will consider putting Fall River beside The Scarlett Letter.
I'll come back in later to write, more or less, what I spent the last fifteen mintues on before I lost it.
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