<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9926048</id><updated>2011-07-07T22:27:09.106-03:00</updated><title type='text'>Women Writers</title><subtitle type='html'>Crusaders, Curmudgeons, and Completely Corsetless Ladies

(taken from the title of a book by A. Stephens)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>LoriAnne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06643231712361509077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9926048.post-111150143279256698</id><published>2005-03-22T09:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-03-22T17:23:20.703-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Margaret Atwood</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;I think I will make it my own personal mission to own more of Margaret Atwood's work. In my first year English class with Dr. Jones we read &lt;em&gt;Alias Grace &lt;/em&gt;and to date it remains one of my favorites. I began to read &lt;em&gt;The Handmaids Tale&lt;/em&gt; when I had other things I should have been working on, and read it right through -- I couldn't put it down. There are so many things that struck me with this book that I don't even know where to begin. If I had decided to write a paper on this novel, I may have written about the perversion of language. I found it interesting that biblical names and terminology were used all through the text supposedly masking the political agenda. As Erica pointed out in her post, the term"handmaid" comes directly from the bible and as such is supposed to a validate their role in Gilead. By making it appear that the guardians, commanders, angels and so on are acting on the authority of the bible, they were able to justify using the women (not to be confused with the &lt;em&gt;unwomen&lt;/em&gt;) as sperm receptacles -- walking wombs. Even the names used to identify Blacks and Jews -- Children of Ham and Children of Jacob --justified (or at least attempted to) their persecution. Atwood herself uses language to her advantage. She uses the word "Night" seven times as chapter titles. Before even reading the text, the reader is alerted to a sense of darkness and unease. It also appears to be a monotonous account of a slave's life: &lt;em&gt;Night. Shopping. Night. Waiting Room. Nap. Household. Night. Birth Day. Night. Soul Scrolls. Night. Jezebel's. Night. Salvaging. Night.&lt;/em&gt; -- like a very boring diary -- Jan 1 - Got up. Ate. Went to Bed, Jan 2 - Got up. Ate. Got more food. Went to bed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;Anyway, this is probably the best book I have read this term.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9926048-111150143279256698?l=nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/feeds/111150143279256698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9926048&amp;postID=111150143279256698' title='69 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/111150143279256698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/111150143279256698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/2005/03/margaret-atwood.html' title='Margaret Atwood'/><author><name>LoriAnne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06643231712361509077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>69</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9926048.post-111034393307786167</id><published>2005-03-09T00:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-03-09T00:52:13.076-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The March Break is breaking me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;It seems (almost quite literally) that it never rains but pours for me.  My children went away for a few days and I thought I would surprise them by renovating their rooms.  After spending hours, days actually,  moving furniture, painting, and blah blah blah, my basement began to flood. Fortunately for my son his room is on the upper level.  The girls will be glad to find all of their things floating in their rooms in teh basement when they get home. So much for laying the new flooring.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;Needless to say, I will be spending the day pumping water out of the basement wishing I was at school rehaearsing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;I hate the rain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9926048-111034393307786167?l=nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/feeds/111034393307786167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9926048&amp;postID=111034393307786167' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/111034393307786167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/111034393307786167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/2005/03/march-break-is-breaking-me.html' title='The March Break is breaking me...'/><author><name>LoriAnne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06643231712361509077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9926048.post-110965050662041096</id><published>2005-02-28T23:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T00:15:06.623-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lone Blogger</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;I seem to be one of very few bloggers these days. (Thank you Erica for keeping me company in our blogspot). I thought today's presentations were great (as were all of the others). I came home to look for a chart I had discovered in my research that outlined a dinner table hierarchy in a typical nineteenth century household. Unfortunately it must have been in one of the books I returned. It described, of course, the Homeowner (The Man) at the head of the table, the rest of the men who lived or worked there in descending order, followed by the wife and the other women in descending order, and then the children. What I particularly remember is that if a gentleman guest arrived, he would also be placed in his proper table position and everyone would have to bump down one space to accomodate him. This might mean that the children would have to leave the table, and if more than one man was visiting it could also mean the women may have to leave. Anyway, another thing I wanted to mention that ties Michelle's topic in with mine, was that female domestic workers usually had to share sleeping quarters with men and were often the victims of sexual crimes. It seems very strange that men and women would have been placed in the same room, but I guess the 'Master and Mistress' of the household would really only be concerned with the goings-ons of their own family members. (I wonder how many babies were born to domestic servant women who were fathered by 'respectable' family members?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9926048-110965050662041096?l=nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/feeds/110965050662041096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9926048&amp;postID=110965050662041096' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110965050662041096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110965050662041096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/2005/02/lone-blogger.html' title='The Lone Blogger'/><author><name>LoriAnne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06643231712361509077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9926048.post-110930867613581725</id><published>2005-02-25T00:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-02-25T01:17:56.140-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Still obsessing....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;Another topic I didn't touch on in my webpage or the supplementary is clitoridectomy.  Even though this is not dicussed specifically in the texts we are reading, it is implicit in that women were not just discouraged, but demanded, to suppress desire.  There has been a strong drive throughout history to transform women.  Clitoridectomy, hysterectomy, ovariotomy -- all have been attempts to &lt;em&gt;cure&lt;/em&gt; women of their inherently diseased state of womanhood.  Even today there is a breast surgery craze. Germaine Greer says that the further away a female is from her natural form, the more beautiful she is considered. To what degree do you think this is true? Where would something like postmastectomy reconstructive surgery fit into this theory of 'natural vs beautiful'?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9926048-110930867613581725?l=nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/feeds/110930867613581725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9926048&amp;postID=110930867613581725' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110930867613581725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110930867613581725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/2005/02/still-obsessing.html' title='Still obsessing....'/><author><name>LoriAnne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06643231712361509077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9926048.post-110895919474969179</id><published>2005-02-21T00:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-03-01T08:30:13.353-04:00</updated><title type='text'>About my webpage...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;My webpage is an overview of the issues surrounding reproduction in history. The following provides a little more information about 18th and 19th century sexual politics, including marriage laws. I have also attempted to incorporate a few of our class readings, but if any of this is not clear, please post a comment in the form of a question and I will respond ASAP.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;span style="styleDocument: [object];font-family:times new roman;" &gt;Here goes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Throughout the first half of the eighteenth century, church marriage is an exception rather than the rule. Part of the reason for this is the ambiguity of the law and what actually constitutes a valid and indissoluble union. Common law is also experiencing difficulties at this time and lawyers are busy trying to prove marriages did actually take place. A slip of the tongue by a young woman caught up in the moment - "I marry thee" instead of "I will marry thee" - and suddenly, because her promise is in the present tense, she is married (indisputably if witnesses are present). A promise &lt;em&gt;de futuro, &lt;/em&gt;however, sanctions sexual intercourse. Either way, the Eighteenth Century appears to be a very sexual time in history, particularly when compared to the 'virtuous' Victorian era. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;This sexual freedom, however, is only the norm for the lower and labouring classes. When these &lt;em&gt;per verba praesenti&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;per verba de futuro&lt;/em&gt; promises, or Fleet marriages as they were sometimes referred, began to catch on in the 'fashionable societies', society began to press authorities to reform the marriage law. Premarital pregnancy is common in the labouring class and automatically does two things: constitutes a legal marriage and encourages population increase. In the upper classes however, premarital sex ruins a young girl's reputation and a premarital pregnancy can find her excommunicated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;span style="styleDocument: [object];font-family:times new roman;" &gt;For the lower and labouring classes reproduction is merely a natural part of life. It is accepted for what it is: the procreative outcome of a sexual relationship between a male and a female. What does it mean in the more 'fashionable societies'? Procreation, reproduction, pregnancy - terminology that becomes almost synonymous, and certainly exclusive to women. In a patriarch dominated, female subjugated society reproduction is a woman's duty, but not just any duty, her inherent duty. Both Church and State reiterate and reenforce that a woman must be subject to man -- her father, her priest, her husband and so on. This 'law' does not give women the right to say 'no', or 'not tonight', or even 'Get out, I have just given birth'. What it does is make women open targets for the sexual advances of their husbands and finally, void of legal and marital rights, even women themselves begin to see themselves as reproductive machines.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;It is the popular opinion in the 18th and 19th centuries that because women bear children and nurse them, that it naturally follows that they are more sedentary than men. Because of this opinion, it is also believed during this time that women are obviously not equipped with skills necessary to become involved in public or political life. So evolves the myth that a woman's place is in the home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;What is interesting about this myth is that it was rarely protested before the nineteenth century. Women themselves appeared to believe that it was her God given duty to stay home and raise children. A feeling of female inferiority in relation to males arises from such thinking and this inferiority becomes generalized for every aspect of the female being. Even in the medical profession women were considered inferior: many diseases were attributed to women and it was believed that any social division between the sexes could be attributed to physical differences. Of course, it doesn't help that doctors studying anatomy studied male as the norm and female as the deviation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Literature, particularly fiction, struggles with the myths of female inferiority and the inherent duty of childbearing and female subjugation. The authors of fiction are in an optimal position to portray these beliefs in such a way as to affirm and criticize simultaneously. Various short stories, for example, show women an alternative life that does not include the traditional silent stay-at-home mom/wife. Sybil, in Alcott's "A Whisper in the Dark" is a good example of the importance of education. Had Sybil been more intelligent, that is, more informed of worldly issues, than perhaps she would have realized that in the world of men, female sexuality is not a source of respect. Gaskell's "The Old Nurse's Story" appears to be a statement about sexuality in some respects. Miss Maude becomes pregnant with her husband's child, but because she is secretly married, it is believed she has had premarital sex and an illegitimate child. Her father's reaction suggests something of the unfairness of patriarchal control in general. That one man can have such power over the lives and well-being of others is understatedly problematic. What these authors, Alcott and Gaskell do, is present the reader with an opportunity to see how wrong it is to try to reduce a woman's value to an estimate of her sexuality, sexual appeal, or sexual virtue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Bronte's "Jane Eyre" presents Jane as a successful, true-to-herself, and childless woman -- a strong statement in opposition of the belief that there is no other purpose for women that to reproduce and be subject to men. Atwood's "A Handmaid's Tale" in contrast, presents a world where reproductive women are cherished for their childbearing abilities and essentially owe their lives to this ability. All of these authors are screaming through their fiction "Women are more than just Reproductive Machines!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;span style="styleDocument: [object];font-family:times new roman;" &gt;Women basically have no control over their bodies in the 18th and 19th centuries. Men dictate the frequency of sexual activity thus the frequency of pregnancy, and also write and enforce the laws that oppress women and perpetuate the conception of female inferiority. With the frequency of maternal mortality, one might wonder what was going on in the minds of husbands to make their wives subject to endless births. Some theorists say there is a lack of emotional contact between a husband and wife. The husband, especially if running a farm, would only be in contact with his wife briefly in the evening, so she would be a mere sex object to him. Farmers also needed to be concerned with having enough children, particularly sons, who would eventually run the farm for them. It would be late in the Victorian era before men would be encouraged to take an active role in the lives of their families. Husbands in the late 19th century begin to spend quality time with their families which typically includes Scripture readings or evening "sing-songs".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Male supremacy has been dependent upon the maintenance of the myth of female inferiority, and as long as everyone believes that men are naturally superior to women, neither men nor women are disposed to perceive the facts for what they really are. The idea is that where women differ from men, they are inferior to men. One of these differences, the womb, is a major source of the myths, phobias, and taboos associated with women's bodies. It is a common belief prior to the 1800's that the womb is not merely a reproductive organ, but a living entity within the womans body that could cause any number of health issues for the woman. Hysteria, for example, was associated with the "wandering womb" theory. Menstruation was thought to be the female body's way to emit poisons. Many people took great pains to isolate the menstruating woman so her poisonous discharge - her poisonous essence - would not in turn "poison" anything she might touch. (See Web Page)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;span style="styleDocument: [object];font-family:times new roman;" &gt;Reproduction is a broad topic involving an extensive and diverse history. In 18th century England, the labouring class were having premarital sex and reproducing with little discouragement, but the upper classes at the same time condemned such behaviour. The Victorian era discouraged premarital relations, but absolutely forbid birth control of any form. Victorian wives were expected to have as many children as physically possible. What is obvious throughout history and among the classes is that "reproduction" seems to be a woman thing. Men appear in much of the research as an anonymous sperm donor, an absent drunkard-and occasional-wife-beater-and-impregnator, or as the infamous insensitive jerk. Whether or not women have an inherent duty to reproduce based on their biological ability to carry a child is a question of debate even today (particularly in the Catholic Church where birth control is still condemned.) I think an important question may be "Who took the sperm out of reproduction?" or in other words "Who took the man out of the equation?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9926048-110895919474969179?l=nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/feeds/110895919474969179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9926048&amp;postID=110895919474969179' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110895919474969179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110895919474969179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/2005/02/about-my-webpage.html' title='About my webpage...'/><author><name>LoriAnne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06643231712361509077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9926048.post-110887521657012224</id><published>2005-02-20T00:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-02-20T00:53:36.573-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What???</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;I don't know about anyone else, but when I read &lt;em&gt;Adam Bede, &lt;/em&gt;I didn't see any of the outcomes coming. I thought that Hetty was wrongly accused because it never occurred to me that she got pregnant. I hate it when books trick me. I also thought when Arthur showed up that he would leave with Hetty. Wasn't Hetty the perfect egocentric match for Arthur? I guess maybe neither of them deserved a happy ending. And poor Adam. Not only did he not get the girl he loved, but he got the one character in the book whose purpose is not very clear to me. Preacher and the apple of Seth's eye. I guess she is also Hetty's scapegoat and confessor. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;Judging by the other blogs I have read, everyone seems to like this book. Maybe I read through it too quickly. I just really didn't enjoy it. I found it long and I didn't like the dialect. Anyway, I was able to sympathize with the characters, but really did not feel engaged with any of them other than Adam. The introduction in my Penguin version mentions &lt;em&gt;Jane Eyre&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;Tess of the D'Urbervilles&lt;/em&gt; in contrast to &lt;em&gt;Adam Bede&lt;/em&gt;. Perhaps I loved both of those books because they "demand total immersion in moments of pathos, torment, or joy"(xx). There was something uplifting about Tess's short time with Angel Clare. Wouldn't it also have been nice to see Hetty come to her senses and find peace in Adam's embrace and vice versa? Adam invested so much of himself in Hetty. What does he get in return? Dinah? Why? I don't like the section where he is on his way to find Dinah and he says "I shall look t' her to help me see things right. For she's better than I am."(530) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;Oh, Adam. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;Anyway, maybe I'm just cranky. I have caught whatever it is the kids have had and have been feeling rather rotten. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="styleDocument: [object]"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9926048-110887521657012224?l=nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/feeds/110887521657012224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9926048&amp;postID=110887521657012224' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110887521657012224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110887521657012224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/2005/02/what.html' title='What???'/><author><name>LoriAnne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06643231712361509077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9926048.post-110805650957334930</id><published>2005-02-10T13:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-02-10T13:28:29.573-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Reader, I love Jane Eyre</title><content type='html'>I wasn't going to read Jane Eyre again because I have read it so many times before.  But as soon as we started discussing it in class, I had to come home and read it again.  I love Jane for being true to herself.  I love her for leaving Rochester and I love her for going back to him.  I love that she challenges and questions women's "proper sphere", childhood abuse, imprisonment, cross-class courtship, and so on.  She is, as someone said, an &lt;em&gt;errant heiress.  &lt;/em&gt;When I read this book, I have a very difficult time dissecting it because I enjoy the story itself.  It is so many things just on the surface without having to look further.  Jane is an orphan who is able, on her own, to overcome some very large obstacles in her life.  She never sacrifices her own beliefs for what is 'conventional' or 'proper'.  Nor does she succomb to the persuasion of so-called authories without questioning their validity.  Underneath there appears to be questions of colonialism, racism, oppression.  It seems to me that Bronte intended to write a provocative text and did so masterfully. It is the resistance of a status-quo in this text  that encourages the reader to question everything.  That Jane did this in 1847 adds to the appeal.  That Bronte wrote this in 1847 is remarkable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9926048-110805650957334930?l=nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/feeds/110805650957334930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9926048&amp;postID=110805650957334930' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110805650957334930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110805650957334930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/2005/02/reader-i-love-jane-eyre.html' title='Reader, I love Jane Eyre'/><author><name>LoriAnne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06643231712361509077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9926048.post-110803951497442953</id><published>2005-02-10T08:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-02-10T12:42:42.556-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Up and Blogging once again</title><content type='html'>Sorry for the Blog-Blackout. Not that anyone really cares, but in the midst of working on my web-page, which was very time consuming for technologically-challenged me, my husband decides to upgrade our computer. I realize that none of you know my husband, but if you did you would be gasping at that last statement. Not only did I lose Microsoft Word and the history essay I was working on, but I lost FrontPage and the webpabe I was working on. Had to start over. All over and done with and my husband no longer has that mark on his head that (oddly enough) resembled our computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preparing for my web-page, I frantically read everything I could read on our list looking for anything that I could use in terms of reproduction, childbirth, sexuality, and so on. After all of that, I realized that many of you were preparing webpages and presentations on these writers so I didn't use them, although I did create some links to other pages. I would have linked to my classmates pages (and still might) but they were not ready at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will be brief:&lt;br /&gt;Of the short stories I read (or skimmed) I enjoyed Alcott's "A Whisper in the Dark"&lt;em&gt;,&lt;/em&gt; Gaskell's &lt;em&gt;"&lt;/em&gt;The Old Nurse's Story&lt;em&gt;"&lt;/em&gt; and Gilman's "The Yellow Wallpaper&lt;em&gt;".&lt;/em&gt; I liked Chopin's "The Storm" also, and could recognize something characteristic about her style having read "A Story of an Hour". I wasn't sure which stories we were supposed to have read (or skimmed) so I read (or skimmed) all of them. Anyway, Alcott's story was not what I expected. I read &lt;em&gt;Little Women, &lt;/em&gt;and I suppose I expected something more sentimental from "A Whisper in the Dark".  It seemed hurried though.  Sybil's escape seemed like Alcott's escape from the story.  I've never read anything by Gaskell before, but I think I would like to read more.  The story of a mother nursing her dead child is chilling, especially since the author herself lost a child.  I keep wondering what may have happened if they had actually let the ghost child in. Perhaps the story could have ended with Miss Furnivall having made amends and dying with her conscience at ease.  Her last words while she faces the wall, "What is done in youth can never be undone in age!"(306) leave me with the feeling that she is still 'turning her back' on her own family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll write my paper on insanity or mental breakdown or hysteria. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9926048-110803951497442953?l=nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/feeds/110803951497442953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9926048&amp;postID=110803951497442953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110803951497442953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110803951497442953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/2005/02/up-and-blogging-once-again.html' title='Up and Blogging once again'/><author><name>LoriAnne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06643231712361509077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9926048.post-110636333328372633</id><published>2005-01-21T22:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-01-21T23:12:00.316-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting the hang of it</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Not only have I changed my &lt;em&gt;outfit,&lt;/em&gt; I have added some &lt;em&gt;accessories&lt;/em&gt;. I have figured out how to change my background and add links, so maybe in a couple of weeks I can figure out how to personalize things a bit. That's probably wishful thinking. Maybe I will have to swallow my pride and ask for help after all. I want more stuff!&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, looking forward to class on Monday, but it's supposed to storm again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9926048-110636333328372633?l=nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/feeds/110636333328372633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9926048&amp;postID=110636333328372633' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110636333328372633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110636333328372633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/2005/01/getting-hang-of-it.html' title='Getting the hang of it'/><author><name>LoriAnne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06643231712361509077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9926048.post-110590905104353908</id><published>2005-01-16T16:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-01-16T16:57:31.043-04:00</updated><title type='text'>about Dorothy...</title><content type='html'>I might as well comment on Dot, as we have all so affectionately come to know her.&lt;br /&gt;It took me quite a while to get through Dot's not-so-lively journal.  There is certainly a poetic quality to her work, but I tend to not like this type of 'read' because it seems relentless and monotonous...painful even.  I guess I read in search of the climax, and unless Dot's starching or incessant complaining of her multitude of ailments are, in fact, climactic...&lt;br /&gt;In any case, what I did enjoy were the comparisons we did in class.  I am without an opinion on the debate of whose ideas they were and who was actually in the woods composing, but it was interesting to see for myself the similarities in Wm's poetry compared to Dot's work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9926048-110590905104353908?l=nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/feeds/110590905104353908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9926048&amp;postID=110590905104353908' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110590905104353908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110590905104353908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/2005/01/about-dorothy.html' title='about Dorothy...'/><author><name>LoriAnne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06643231712361509077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9926048.post-110590777277861142</id><published>2005-01-16T15:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-01-16T16:36:12.780-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Time !!</title><content type='html'>I accomplished a couple of "firsts" this weekend.  I read &lt;em&gt;Frankenstein&lt;/em&gt; for the first time, and now here I am blogging for the first time.  I can't seem to figure out how to link after about a zillion attempts, so that "first" will have to wait. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Frankenstein&lt;/em&gt;.  What can I say?  I have seen film interpretations of this story, but I have never actually read the text before.  I found myself hating Frankenstein for hating his creation-- like a parent hating a child or God hating us.  The "monster" he created had more human qualities than many of the humans in the text. Gilbert and Gubar would say the monster is really "a female in disguise".  What does this suggest about women or about Mary Shelley in particular?  Would it suggest, as our intro indicates, that Shelley has admitted to the monstrousness of womanhood (29), or that (as Wollstonecraft would argue)  men can be feminized?  Whatever it may or may not suggest, the fact remains that the monster was detested for what he was not... Not a man? Not a beautiful likeness of God as the monster himself suggests?  Questions I must ponder....&lt;br /&gt;This story left me ill.  I found it very difficult to read the "monster's" account of the cruelty and segregation he endured.  I suppose I was expecting to read something of a &lt;em&gt;Jekyll and Hyde&lt;/em&gt; story where the violent scenes are only briefly described and the monster was easily detested.  Frankenstein's monster, cowering under the repulsion and rage he discovers in the people he seeks acceptance from, somehow does not seem monstrous.  Hyde, joyfully stomping the life out of a small child -- now that's monstrous.&lt;br /&gt;I will later answer Dr. Jones' question of how this fits into the scheme of things.  I am still trying to digest this wretched story that (strangely) I will look forward to reading again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9926048-110590777277861142?l=nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/feeds/110590777277861142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9926048&amp;postID=110590777277861142' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110590777277861142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110590777277861142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/2005/01/my-first-time.html' title='My First Time !!'/><author><name>LoriAnne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06643231712361509077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9926048.post-110478010146546355</id><published>2005-01-03T15:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-01-03T15:21:41.466-04:00</updated><title type='text'>testing</title><content type='html'>just a test&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9926048-110478010146546355?l=nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/feeds/110478010146546355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9926048&amp;postID=110478010146546355' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110478010146546355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9926048/posts/default/110478010146546355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nineteenthcenturywomen.blogspot.com/2005/01/testing.html' title='testing'/><author><name>LoriAnne</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06643231712361509077</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
