Friday, April 3, 2009

The Liminal Space of Widowhood in Ruth Hall by Fanny Fern

I noticed an interesting similarity between the characters Frado of Harriet Wilson's Our Nig and Ruth of Fanny Fern's Ruth Hall. Both women are powerless and silenced by family and associated characters. While the silencing that happens to Frado—her mouth is literally held open as she is beaten—is a more horrifying example of what can happen to a woman outside of the dominant cult of True Womanhood, what happens to Ruth is equally horrifying because her “fall” is caused by her husband's inability to protect and provide for her. Harry's failure at True Manhood causes Ruth to be silenced in a way. Her widowhood makes her invisible and puts her into a liminal space both physically and socially. The socio-economic class that Ruth was born into creates a glass floor beneath her. She cannot go down in the social hierarchy because she lacks the skills to do hard physical labor and has two small children to care for. While she could descend to the lowest space of all, as a prostitute, we quickly see Ruth rejecting any hints of such a descent. And because Ruth lacks a husband to provide for and protect her, she also cannot be accepted into the social class she once belonged to. In this sense there is a glass ceiling over her head, which a destitute woman, like Ruth, cannot break through it in 1855. All she can do in this liminal space is to either teach or write.

She is also invisible because many in her old class no longer “see” her. This is clearly illustrated when two former friends, Mary and Gertrude, come to visit her, as described in chapter XLI. When they arrive at her new home, Mary asks, “'Is this the house?'” Then Gertrude answers, “'Ruth Hall couldn't live in such a place as this[....] if Ruth Hall has got down hill so far as this, I can't keep up her acquaintance [....] I wouldn't be seen in that vulgar house for a kingdom'” (99). Even though they approach her home they refuse to enter into it because doing so would socially be a descent just as the house is down a certain hill. Mary's reflection on a past visit to Ruth and Harry's home reinforces their unwillingness to cross into the liminal space Ruth now occupies as an impoverished widow. Their reluctance to cross into this space shows how tenuous their own positions may be and their fears of “taint” by association.

Ruth's position in a liminal space is further illustrated by her relationship with her cousins, the Millets. Chapter XLII shows a discussion between two servants in the Millet household who reflect on the meager generosity of Mrs. Millet for allowing Ruth to do her laundry in their kitchen. The irony of this conversation is that Ruth and Harry used to host the Millets at their home in happier times—but now that Ruth has fallen on hard times, she is only afforded the liminal spaces of a servant: the kitchen, attic, and stairwells. Ruth is thus literally pushed into out into liminal social and physical spaces.

Lastly, Ruth's regulation to liminal spaces is illustrated by her lack of a home. Once Harry dies, she is home-less. She and the children live in boarding houses and cheap rented rooms with minimal furnishings, no kitchen facilities, and in close proximity to strangers. Even though Katy is farmed out to her grandparents, their house is never a home for her. We see this when Mrs. Hall tries to force Katy into the cellar to retrieve some hams. Katy refuses to “'go down in that dark place'”--an obvious allusion to hell. When Katy again she won't go, even if her grandmother tries to kill her, Mrs. Hall asserts ownership, not familial ties, as the reason Katy should brave the dark and rats to fetch some hams (237). Mrs. Hall's treatment of Katy as an object underscores her mercenary nature and lack of love in a space that should be very nurturing. Fortunately, Ruth rescues Katy from the descent into the dark cellar. She then whisks their little family off to a fine hotel. This is the first step in their escape from the liminal spaces they have lived in. Now they are reunited and have enough love to share and food to eat: they are on their way to a true home.

And ultimately, like Frado/Harriet, Ruth/Fanny is able to revenge herself by emerging out of liminal spaces with the publication of her book.

2 comments:

  1. Interesting--because of your post, I started thinking about the halls basement as analogous to the pit under Capitola's room.

    I'm wondering if you need to be more precise in your use of the term "liminal"? Remember that Victor Turner's use of the term referred to a space "betwixt and between" where an old identity had been shed and a new identity had not yet been solidified. It was therefore a space uncertainty, fluidity, and transformation. Sometimes in your analysis above, I felt as if the word "marginal" might have been substituted. But then, what is the difference between marginal and liminal? Is there one? Could you please clarify how you were thinking about the liminal above?

    Megan Griffin has done some interesting readings of competing versions of manhood in the nineteenth century. Your reference to "True Manhood" reminded me of some of the things she has discovered. You might ask her for references if you're interested in exploring this further.

    ReplyDelete
  2. You're right--I really should have used marginal instead of liminal in my posting. My memory on the term liminal is hazy and I don't think I have read Victor Turner's piece. I will do that soon!

    ReplyDelete