you're too young & eager to love

I am in the trenches of grad finals week. I have completed one final, one proposal, and one paper. I'm on my last paper, which has to be fifteen pages and consists of a critical look of Anne Bradstreet and Phillis Wheatley. I'm arguing that they utilized their positions within society to network themselves into publication. They both managed to have a literary voice and claim agency within a society that narrowly defined the role of women. I hate early american literature, however. Writing this paper is like taking a bullet.

I decided to post my final paper for 18th century Brit Lit paper. It makes me sound smart, and I'm actually quite fond of it. Now let's hope it's A worthy, because it's 1/2 of my final grade.

Put under the cut for length purposes. I left out the bibliography, because why would I include that here? But I obviously included that in the hard copy. I also except my formatting to go berserk with copying and pasting this from Word.



When comparing and contrasting three starkly original novels of eighteenth century Britain – in order, Moll Flanders, Pamela, and The Adventures of Eovaai – it becomes apparent that the heroines of each piece are uniquely feministic in their roles. Furthermore, by interpreting their characters contextually and historically, the leading literary characters begin to reflect women in the culture of the time, as well as the overarching sociopolitical concerns of the era. At first glance, none of the three protagonists appear similar; however, it is precisely their differences that mark the contextual changes of the world they inhabit. The women are forced to change, to adapt, as the century progresses. Moll Flanders, arguably, adapts in a negative fashion, but it is a fashion that still ensures her own personal sense of liberation. Pamela, the igniter of a national phenomenon, upholds her integrity and the status quo of the political class rulings of the time, and ultimately ends in a marriage of equality and unification with her virtue intact. In contrast, Eovaai, despite being positioned in a sexually and politically vulnerable scenario, is given a voice to communicate her own story, yet her fantastical ending serves to emphasize the fictional aspect and improbability of her tale while subsequently sending a pointed message to the women of the era. Yet it is only through contrasting and comparing these three heroines, as icons of the century, and their plights are the overwhelmingly feminist ideals and features of the novels revealed.
In Daniel Defoe’s Moll Flanders, Defoe provides audiences with a first person female narrative – a heroine that is head strong, intelligent, crafty, and morally flexible. In many ways, scholars have argued that Defoe does not provide a feministic guide in Flanders; instead, he merely reinforces stereotypes of his time. It is certainly true that Flanders can be difficult to admire, but she consistently breaks from the patriarchal system. Interestingly, her break with the system, as emphasized by her need to resort to thievery, marks a time when Flanders is ethically at her lowest. Despite being ethically repugnant, Flanders nonetheless proves that she is capable of surviving independently, while Defoe brilliantly and opportunistically reveals the unjust station of women in eighteenth-century society. In other words, Flanders is given few choices, few avenues of agency, and though her choices may be morally reprehensible, she is a survivalist and there is something undeniably strong in a character that refuses to yield to the constraints of society. Rather than live in impoverishment, Flanders sacrifices her reputation and morality to live a life she is capable of ruling.
Flanders does not, as some feminists would view as a major flaw and critique of her character, desire education; however, as previously stated, she substitutes bettering herself through institutions by gaining independence of men. In the class structure and world available to her, she manipulates it to her advantage. By selling her body for wealth and progression, Flanders gains self-sufficiency. She defies conventions and traditions, which explains her precise need to have a morally adaptable code; she must be ambivalent in order to have agency, which suggests a grander societal problem.
The problem in question is Defoe’s “critique of an emergent capitalist society and the bourgeoisie who inhabit it … the intricacies of marriage laws, [and] the overarching maleficence and disorder of Newgate” (Hummel 119). He uses Moll Flanders to satire society, and he requires a woman like Flanders to ensure his point. Flanders is undeniably a gifted woman, capable of intelligent manipulation, as is the case with her maneuvering of social heteroglossia. Flanders, as the theorist Mikhail Bakhtin would argue, begins to mix difference voices or sociolects to her advantage. For example, Flanders has the astounding ability to sound like a lawyer, a preacher, a physician, and a banker – all in the course of one novel. Audiences at the time would have acknowledged that these voices were distinct to certain groups. A pointed example of Flanders switching voices in order to appear like a different person is when she speaks like a political economist:
Nothing is more certain, than that the ladies always gain of the men, by keeping
their ground, and letting their pretended lovers see they can resent being lighted,
and that they are not afraid of saying NO. They, I observe insult us mightily …
but I am far from granting that the number of the women is so great, or the number of the men so small; but if they will have me tell the truth, the disadvantage of the women, is a terrible scandal upon the men, and it lyes here, and here only; namely, that the age is so wicked, and the sex so debauch’d, that in short the number of such men, as an honest woman ought to meddle with, is small indeed ... (Defoe 103).
Between one sentence and another, Flanders seems to become a different person. By the end of the paragraph, she sounds moralistic. Her consistent ability to appeal to her audiences as a plethora of voices defines her intelligence and capability, providing her with the skill to succeed in her life and world.
Additionally, Flanders is merciless in her attempt to gain equal access to material resources. In this way, she aspires to have a man’s freedom. When viewed in this manner, Flanders’ prostitution can be seen as a necessity and an attempt to take control into her own hands, especially since her first sexual experience resulted in a financial exchange, as is the case with the elder brother. Following a tendency of Defoe’s male characters “to turn a gift transaction into a market transaction”, the elder brother imprints a conception of sex and money onto Flanders’ mind (Hummel 120). Flanders describes the event, saying, “…so he got off from the bed, lifted me up, professing a great deal of love for me, … and that he meant no ill; and with that he put five guineas into my hand …” (Defoe 59). In this way, the elder brother processes sincere affection by financial favors. Essentially, Flanders life of crime begins here, but her ultimate ability to navigate her world with cunning and an unapologetic mindset for her person highlights her as a feminist protagonist, albeit an uneasy one.
In comparison, Samuel Richardson’s heroine Pamela, from the novel bearing the same name, is far less abrasive. Some scholars have suggested that Pamela’s weak nature is not only infuriating but a contradiction to her supposedly feministic quality; however, Pamela was intended to be an example for ladies of the time to follow and appreciate. She is morally, virtually, wholesomely stunning. Her passive nature, such as her tendency to faint when confronted with troublesome or painful situations, is admittedly infuriating to a modern reader. Nonetheless, this defense mechanism of hers is a common trope found in eighteenth-century literature. By becoming completely passive, Pamela shifts all ultimate control to her offenders so that no matter what occurs after she is unconscious, she cannot be blamed. Her virtue will either be stolen or (as is the case) remain, but either way she will have not been said to encourage any violation of her honor. In this way, Pamela lacks the coarse nature of Moll Flanders, but not the cunning.
As some of the critics favoring Pamela and its heroine will argue, the novel endures primarily due to how “Pamela and Mr. B are able to put aside their egos and arrogance to end in a partnership of equality by marrying. Readers must understand, and not understate, the characters and their contexts” (Gooding 111). By providing characters that are young, with a leading male that is barely into adulthood, Richardson shows that the substance of his plot reflects how young people are trying to work out everything that is going on with their minds, bodies, and emotions within their society. Moreover, the end of the novel, that is Pamela’s marriage with Mr. B, takes place only after Mr. B has come to conclusion that what he desires is Pamela as an entity, not Pamela’s body. He is obsessed and seduced by her letters. Her virtue then is something of a protectant for her, an essence to her character that silently declares she is worth more than her sex.
Perhaps the subtlest yet most powerful way Pamela asserts herself as a feministic role model is in the way she disrupts established traditional hegemonic power relations. Following the customs of the era, an eighteenth century lord had the right to have sex with his female employees; additionally, Pamela is of a lower class and a female, suggesting that she ought to do as her employer and higher class male command of her. Since she does not, Pamela refutes the system, and women readers of the time would have recognized her refusal while sympathizing and supporting her. Given her status and gender, Pamela has no power and, thus, is someone who needs to be protected, so she imposes on Mr. B the idea that he must make the proper decision when confronting her. It constructs patriarchy not as a system that imposes rights on men but, rather, duties. Mr. B, therefore, begins to recognize that he has obligations of nobility. In this way, Pamela uses traditional values as a way to impose equally traditional authority on the people who have power, asserting herself, non-aggressively and without appearing non-conventional, as a woman capable of using the system to her benefit and a potentially stronger female lead than scholars allow for.
As an Oriental tale The Adventures of Eovaai may not seem as comparable to Moll Flanders and Pamela, which, stylistically, do not deal with quite so different forms of story. Yet, it has been said, “fiction is the best of knowing the Orient and comprehending its legacy to the West” (Ballaster 6). Futhermore, The Adventures of Eovaai employs a female narrative, which is a “recurrent feature of European fiction in the eighteenth century, especially in the burgeoning form of the novel” (Ballaster 6). Thus, despite the fantastical, pre-Adam settings, with a text that is supposedly multi-translated, The Adventures of Eovaai directly critique society in stronger politically charged fashions than both of Defoe and Richardson’s novels.
As the scholar Marta Kvande argues, Eovaai situates herself as a political outsider, and in doing so she is able to offer unique criticisms of society due to her outwardly objective location. Being a politically minded author, Haywood used the political controversies of the time period to claim a public voice for her narrator. This is to say that she specifically considered the excluded Tories and their positions as outsiders, and in order to construct an outside narrator for her own novel, it was necessary for her to invent a complex history (Kvande). Therefore, despite being an oriental text, Eovaai is arguably more invested in reflecting the political conventions of the era than the other two novels or, at the very least, broadening a woman’s influence to enter the political sphere.
Furthermore, by creating an oriental tale, Haywood makes Eovaai’s sexuality acceptable. Haywood allows her leading lady to have sexual pleasure and still maintain her stance as the heroine. In this way, Haywood is utilizing the orientalism of the characters and the story to subdue the fact that Eovaai is sexual without being condemned by her audience; yet, she is also insinuating that one does not have to be a disembodied virgin to be a heroine, which must seem like a shocking revelation to audiences enamored by Pamela.
In contrast to Pamela’s overwhelming wholesomeness, Eovaai’s dynamics as a character are comparable to Moll Flanders. Like Defoe’s protagonist, Eovaai is vibrant and multifaceted. Her capacity to be in control depends on the circumstances she is cast into. Readers are able to sympathize with her because she has been put in extreme circumstances that are beyond her power; circumstances and, essentially, poor fortune have made her vulnerable to Ochihatou as well as the dangers welling up within her own body and desires. It becomes even easier to sympathize with her when one considers the princesses’ background, since Eovaai has been raised to be a caretaker, humble, and to think intellectually. In many ways, she has only been prepared for an ideal state in an ideal world; however, that is simply not the world she lives in.
As Moll Flanders’ downfall began with an interaction or decree of a male, much of Eovaai’s predicaments are in part due to the patriarchal figure of her father. It is her father that commands she wear a magical jewel, an obvious metaphor for her virtue and chastity. Her father places Eovaai in a position where he knowingly understands that her entire fate rests precariously on the existence of this jewel, saying, “[r]emember that what ought to be infinitely dearer to you than your Life, your eternal Fame, and the Happiness of all the Millions you are born to rule, depend n the Conservation of [the jewel]” (Haywood 56). Yet Eovaai “once plagued by desire, she will not be able to obey the implicit command here. She cannot question the jewel …” (Loar 570). Importantly, it is also the death of her father makes her state and stature plummet.
Once fallen, Eovaai is in a sexually and politically weak position. She no longer reigns over her people and she becomes prey to Ochihatou’s advances. Interestingly, when Eovaai is potentially at her weakest, enthralled by Ochihatou and moments from relinquishing her virtue, Haywood employs the narrative of another female as an interruption tactic. While Yximilla’s tale is employed strategically, her character, arguably more morally honorable than Eovaai, is not granted the same happy ending as the princess. It is also only Eovaai that is allowed to narrate her own story, providing her character with more of a voice than Yximilla’s, perhaps suggesting that the less honorable are being heard less frequently in eighteenth century society.
Haywood’s political undercurrents are notable throughout the novel, so it is no surprise that her ending would be equally politicized. In granting Eovaai a happy ending, Haywood seems to be emphasizing the pure art of fabrication that is her plot. There is a distinct difference between reality and representation (Haywood). The women of eighteenth century England would not be guaranteed the ultimate happy ending if they were to have similar proclamations as Eovaai.
Although written within a twenty-year span of each other, all three novels concern themselves with the sociopolitical vexations of their time. By employing female protagonists, they draw readers into a new world of perspective, one that can be more critical precisely due to the use of a female heroine. By contrasting these different protagonists, it becomes apparent that each character reveals a separate critique of women in eighteenth century Britain. As Moll Flanders reveals, the opportunities of women were limited, while the expectations of them were vast. Pamela, though widely hailed and accepted by her audience, encompasses the reality that conquering patriarchy still required a virtuous, conventional, non-threatening approach. The Adventures of Eovaai directly critiques the Walpole government, yet the heroine is only capable of existing in an oriental, and thus foreign, world.