So taking this idea of “witchery” in mind, I re-read the denouement and found some interesting descriptions of Jean. For instance, when her letters are discovered and read, Lucia protests that, “’A woman could not do it!’” (446)--meaning a woman could not artfully set out a plan to seduce a man like Major Peter Sanford did of Eliza Wharton in The Coquette. Here we see Lucia assert that Jean is something other than a “woman” or a woman like herself. Lucia does nothing in such a calculated method. Ned describes Jean as not being a woman, but as possessing “’the art of a devil‘” and using “’charm’” on their friend Mr. Sydney (445). Alcott further describes Jean in other worldly terms as “an apparition” (451) and describes her as “fixing on Gerald the strange glance he remembered well” […] “before she vanished from their sight” (453) saying she fixed a look seems to be similar to putting a spell on someone, and saying she vanished just once again reinforces this witchery about her.
All of these descriptions Alcott uses further complicate Jean’s role in the text. And so I still wonder, is she a woman? Is she a “Scotch witch”? What exactly is she? She gets married in the end to a rich lord (every girl's dream match: wealth+title+old man=independence in a few years)--but the way she does it seems to bother some people in our class. And really, if we were to find out at the novel’s end that she is a witch, we would not really be surprised. This confusion and complexity makes her a fascinating character to analyze--especially when we see her role as Lady Coventry will be her best performance yet.
Larisa, this is awesome!! I love the point you make about Jean Muir being "something other" than a woman. If a woman could not do it, Jean Muir must be something else-- an other. I think this opens up lots of potential readings about "othered" groups and could maybe even be read in terms of race, especially since Jean Muir is portrayed as grotesque (and 30!!!) when her mask is off. I recently re-read Morrison's _Playing in the Dark_ which encourages us to read for racial commentary in seemingly "white" characters (and Morrison seems to argue that it's always there). And, of course, this text merges lots of talk of performance; both the performance of gender and the theatricality of identity performance. Whew. Great reading! I can honestly day that you've changed the way I read this text!
ReplyDeleteOk, I'm off to compose my own responses, coming soon to a blog near you.
Thanks, Amanda. This text is fascinating! I look forward to your response. Do you think that she is "othered" since she is supposedly Scottish? Or perhaps the otherness is due to her perceived social class? We'll have to talk about this when we meet this week.
ReplyDeleteYou've picked up on some interesting threads, Larisa.
ReplyDeleteRe: witches--I can't remember if you were in class the day we talked a bit about the witch imagery? As I'm sure you're aware, the witch has been reclaimed as a symbol of female power that has been repressed by western patriarchy. So the references to Jean as a witch simultaneously suggest her power and her threat to the men and their authority. Interestingly, her witch-like laughter echoes through the ending of the text, suggesting her continuing exercise of power (think about Helene Cixous's "The Laugh of the Medusa").
As to her "otherness," I'm reminded of how often, how quickly, and how emphatically women who depart from societal norms are labeled as "monstrous" in nineteenth-century texts. Of course, that's a word that echoes with Laurence as well. When a woman steps out of prescribed categories, her very humanity is called into question and language serves to dehumanize her as well (whether as monster or witch). By the way, doesn't Warfield call Cap a witch? And what about the haunting Cap's mother performs? Amanda's link to race is interesting, since African-Americans were also dehumanized in discourses of this period.