Cross-dressing and Gender Performance

Unless we consider the occasional fictional example, contemporary females don’t have to masquerade as men to achieve their goals, as did the fictional Almira Paul. However, I do think that women in certain positions have to assume (stereotypically) masculine qualities, at least in their personalities and attitudes. We have a family friend who is a highly successful businesswoman, and she admits that at times her gender has been an issue. Women who climb to the top of the corporate ladder have to be more assertive, stronger-willed, and more vocal than society has traditionally expected them to be. While we accept that men are naturally competitive, women are more likely to be seen as the “peacemakers” given their nurturing nature. But in the business world, women have to take on that competitive edge. Even though we live in the 21^st century and like to think that we are above gender bias, a woman is sometimes viewed as a less capable leader when a man is up for the same position.

As far as men having to “perform femininity,” I can’t think of any great examples, but something that jumps to mind is the fashion industry. Doesn’t it seem that a disproportionate number of popular male designers are gay? I would not say that in order to succeed in that industry, a man has to take on feminine qualities; rather, I assume that a gay man’s sexual orientation simply predisposes him to have greater interest and talent in design. (So bad example, I know.) But it’s interesting to consider that our society still recognizes traditional male and female realms (for lack of a better word), and men and women who cross from one to the other often don’t fit the “traditional” gender mold.

Parents, teach your children well...

Charlotte’s parents are portrayed as saintly individuals—Mr. Temple is compassionate and philanthropic, and Lucy is a devoted daughter willing to sacrifice her own happiness for her father’s sake. Their marriage is based on love, which makes them unique given our previous readings. As parents, they are particularly affectionate and doting, to the point of throwing their beloved Charlotte a birthday party. Although she is distanced from them at Madame du Pont’s school, it seems that Charlotte’s parents are protective of her innocence. For instance, when debating whether to open Montraville’s letter, she comments, “My mother has often told me, I should never read a letter given me by a young man, without first giving it to her.”

With rakes running around, it’s understandable that Mr. and Mrs. Temple want to shelter their daughter. However, I couldn’t help but feel as I read the novel that a big contributor to Charlotte’s downfall is her naivete. She knows that she has a duty to her parents over (what she believes to be) love, but she is easily seduced into trusting Montraville’s false promises and “renounce[ing] a tender father and mother.” Yet I wouldn’t necessarily put the blame for Charlotte’s fall on her parents, because they simply acted in line with societal norms. In our recent magazine readings, we have seen numerous portrayals of weak, susceptible women, and I think that Charlotte was a product of this pervasive societal viewpoint. The primary blame for her fall should go to the rakes Montraville and Belcour, as well as the evil La Rue, but Charlotte seemed predisposed by her society to play into their hands.

I think that parents today—just like Mr. and Mrs. Temple—instinctively want to protect their children. But our contemporary society demands a different approach. I once knew a family who almost went to extremes (by today’s standards) to shelter their children. The kids were not allowed to watch television or movies, were home-schooled, and didn’t participate in many activities outside of church. But it was mentioned in class that even when you shelter your child, there’s no guarantee that they won’t rebel as soon as they’re old enough to get a taste of the real world. So I think that most parents today are more concerned with raising their children with the right values—equipping them with the ability to recognize right from wrong—than shielding them from all outside influences. Parents provide their sons and daughters with a solid foundation and hope that they make wise choices based on that. After our discussion of Charlotte Temple, I would say that allowing teenagers to actually make decisions is particularly important.

Another Cause of Female Depravity?

The author of this week’s article makes the point that novels—“tender tales abounding with fine feeling”—fill young women’s heads with unrealistic ideas about love. He (like always, I just assumed upon the first reading that the author was a male) believes that female readers will aspire to mimic the romantic experiences of their novels’ heroines. One of the article’s most interesting passages is that after she has fallen, “too often does the infatuated fair one take pleasure…because, forsooth, she is just in the same point of view as the hapless, the distressed, the love-lorn Sappho of some novel or other.” I can’t imagine that a woman who has been abandoned by a rake, wound up pregnant, or shunned by society would be feeling blissful. However, the author’s overall point is one that easily translates to the modern day.

Given our media-infused society, I think that the author would be extremely critical of movies aimed at a female audience—the romantic comedies and sappy tear-jerkers. Although our present-day culture provides us with stronger portrayals of women, the damsel in distress hasn’t disappeared. By the end of two hours, even Miss Independent has often been swept off her feet. Moreover, the “chick flick” is certainly not a genre that lends itself well to sad endings. Regardless of how many tissues it takes to get there, the characters and viewers usually get their happily ever after.

I think that most women are smart enough to separate fiction from reality, but the author would probably disagree. He would propose that women, filling their minds with “fine feeling” and “soft ideas” in the movie theatre, develop a desire to find the type of romance depicted onscreen. The problem, he would scoff, is that it’s an unrealistic, grownup fairytale. We can sigh over Noah Calhoun in The Notebook all day, but good luck finding a man who takes you rowing among swans and then kisses you in the rain. These situations are literally too good to be true, but—the author would say—the deluded woman wouldn’t recognize this. Enamored with the thought of having that kind of love, she would place all her high hopes on the next man who enters her life.

I think that the author would also be scandalized by the rampancy of sex scenes in today’s movies. In the article, he seems concerned about a young couple’s choice to “dispense with the ceremony,” winding up instead with a “base-born infant.” If he were writing today, I’m sure that the author would make a big point about the poor example set by promiscuous heroines and how that influences a woman to give up her virtue. She would discover too late that “happily ever after” only happens in the movies.

Retrospective Readings

The portrayal of the fallen woman in our recent texts has disappointed me, because it doesn’t seem to be changing much. I think I approach each batch of readings with a little hope that maybe we will see a slightly stronger and more respected woman slowly emerging from the delicate, susceptible, swooning female whose only valuable attribute is virtue. The portrayal of women is fairly stagnant. It’s also a little disappointing that we continue to see all male-authored texts, as well.

That’s not to say that I haven’t gotten anything out of the texts. If anything, the consistency continues to show me just how concerned late eighteenth-century society was with rakes and persuadable young women. I will admit that I appreciate that the texts are holding the male more responsible than they used to (e.g., the infanticide narratives). The authors still slip in their female instruction and assertions about female worth, but at least the rake is getting some of the blame he deserves.

That’s probably why I enjoyed reading “The Passenger” this week. It jumped out at me because the theme of domestic abuse was different than the preceding texts, and the story of a woman locked inside a chamber was a little more riveting than the usual sob stories. However, what made me connect to it was the fact that the article emphasizes the husband’s fault. One of the characters—Mrs. Short Metre—suggests that both the husband and wife were at fault. The doctor immediately rejects her idea by telling the story of the imprisoned woman. He even mocks Mrs. Short Metre in a rather scathing last line. I find it interesting that a male character stands in defense of the female, just as the male author is concerned that men who don’t “fulfill their obligations” in marriage are not held accountable. And it pleased me that the wife, although she was tempted by a rake, did not fall as most of the "weak" women in recent texts have done. Instead, she "spurned him with indignation."

So encountering the readings this week, there were some frustratingly familiar stories (particularly Arrabella Artless), but there were also a few pleasant surprises. As I said earlier, I’d certainly like to see more of them, and I think it would be good for discussion!

What's Love Got To Do With It?

There’s no doubt that our recent readings have been strewn with expressions of romantic love. I wouldn’t say that we’ve seen any examples of true love, since the amorous sentiments are completely one-sided. Whereas unsuspecting Amelia (in the "Story of Amelia") develops deep feelings of devoted affection, the rakish Alonso tricks her by “what he seemed to feel.” However, the idea of romantic love was clearly growing in popularity with the late eighteenth-century audience. In her letter to a friend, Amelia explains that her seducer “told me that love was the supreme bliss of human life…no emotions could have been planted in our breasts by the great Creator merely to be repelled.” I imagine that contemporary readers—though they were expected to look disdainfully upon Amelia’s fall—were able to relate to such statements and recognize their persuasive power.

I do think that a move toward romantic love rejected the patriarchal structure; that makes complete sense given the trends we’ve witnessed over the course of the semester. The patriarchal power of Cotton Mather’s society has steadily diminished, particularly since we began reading post-Revolutionary texts. That’s not to say that young women are openly encouraged to exercise independence. But the fact that the men in this week’s readings are courting, flattering, and making promises of marriage says something about the father’s weakened role. The interaction between daughters and suitors is emphasized, while he receives little or no mention.

In "The Sorrows of Amelia," I like the explanation that she was easily deceived because she was “unversed in the secret villainies of a base degenerate world [and] ever imagined all mankind were as spotless as herself.” Society forced her to live a sheltered lifestyle because this was viewed as the way to protect her virtue. But as the texts ironically point out, Amelia’s naiveté contributed to her fall. Continuing (or returning to) the practice of arranged marriage would have prolonged an unhealthy limitation of female freedom. Of course, during this period, women like Amelia were occasionally the victims of rakes, but time has since shown that exposing women to the wider world is a positive thing. Today’s independent 20-something female is much more savvy and worldly-wise—she generally knows how to recognize the rakes, and she can detect when the feelings are one-sided. The modern woman is therefore capable of choosing a husband for herself. Arranged marriage wouldn’t resonate with our present-day culture; there isn’t a need for it. Rather, it would be a detrimental recipe for affairs and divorce!

Depictions of a Rake

My roommate of three years had an ongoing love affair with the show Grey’s Anatomy, so I've had a hefty serving of Seattle Grace Hospital. The first person who came to mind when I read the blog prompt was the infamous McSteamy, otherwise known as Dr. Mark Sloan. I lost interest in the show a while back and can’t say I’m up to date on the character; perhaps McSteamy has changed his philandering ways. But even on a show where everyone is sleeping with everyone else, he stood out as the womanizer. His long history of one-night stands and affairs was well known among the female doctors and interns, but thanks to his “steamy” looks and personality, he didn’t have much trouble attracting—or seducing—them.

Mark Sloan’s similarities to Florio, the rake in the article “On Seduction,” are obvious. Florio possessed all the accomplishments of the gentleman, except virtue.” In class, we pointed out that what made a man a gentleman was his sharp dress, polite manner of speaking (or flattering), and education. So Mark Sloan—handsome, smooth talking, and one of the most renowned plastic surgeons on the East Coast—fits the basic description. Like Florio, whose “vices were too frequently repeated to be concealed,” Sloan still maintains his excellent professional reputation and rubs shoulders with the well-to-do.

I like the line in “On Seduction” that says, “His having a spice of the rake in him did not render him less pleasing in their eyes.” Florio’s dangerous streak makes him more agreeable to “the fair.” On Grey’s Anatomy and several other shows, it’s all too common to see women, including the virginal good girl, attracted to the irresistible bad boy character. Today’s rake, like those of the past, doesn’t try too hard to conceal his behavior, because a wild reputation often works in his interest.

Not to go off on a tangent, but I think specifically of Desperate Housewives. Susan’s sweet daughter, Julie, can’t help but fall for Edie’s nephew Austin and (like the fallen women we’ve been reading about) questions whether to give up her virginity—her “virtue.” I think Austin is another good example of a modern Florio who “had so long wantoned among the vicious of the other sex, that…virgin innocence alone seemed capable of affording him the desired pleasure.” Of course, that didn’t keep Austin from cheating with Danielle on the side, but he found the innocent Julie difficult to resist.

McSteamy certainly doesn’t have many virgins to choose from at Seattle Grace, but similar to Austin and Florio, he wants what is off-limits. He develops an interest in Dr. Hahn, who repeatedly refuses his advances. At one point, she tells him that he isn’t attracted to her but rather to the fact that she isn’t attracted to him in return. She has become a conquest, the precise word used to describe a boastful rake's exploits in a few of the early American articles. And once the man has conquered, there isn’t much reason to stick around. The one-night stand hasn’t changed, and 18^th century seducers inevitably left the woman crying—or dying. Most modern women don’t end up like Philenia, although there are often tears involved when a modern rake never calls back.

So honestly, I wouldn't say that the rake--his characteristics, desires, and aversion to committment--has evolved much over the past two centuries. Florio is still breaking hearts all over primetime TV.

Lessons for the Ladies

The theme of female instruction in the latest batch of texts is hard to miss. Men obviously had a clear idea of what they wanted in a woman—in so many words, eighteenth-century perfection (as they defined it). I have to smile in response to Alphonso’s fluffy description of “sweet little beings, with voices as melodious as the notes of the nightingale…whose hearts are as pure as the falling snow-drop.” I can hardly imagine this delicate woman, and it is a wonder to me that anyone viewed Alphonso’s ideal as attainable.

The bottom line in these instructive texts is that a woman is to learn how to please men. She is not to be a prude or a coquette, because—as Alphonso puts it—“both are equally disagreeable to our sex.” In contrast to early eighteenth-century texts, there is no pretense that the rules for female behavior are dictated by religious statutes. The highest power in this text is the man, and gratifying his desires is the key to becoming a woman of excellent character. Walking the fine line between flirting too much and flirting too little is a tough charge, and the following paragraphs' assertion that a woman must demurely accept the flattery of “suspicious” men reveals the double standard for the sexes.

Alphonso urges women to “exert your talents most successfully in benefiting society,” but the definition of female talents is strictly limited by gender roles. Fitting employment for women is, unsurprisingly, confined within the domestic sphere. The man handled the more “hardy exercises." For a woman to engage her mind or body in any activity outside her prescribed position is to commit the cardinal sin of "offend[ing] her husband."

Just as a woman is limited physically to hearth and home, there is also a limit to her mental education. She should acquire a healthy “knowledge of the human heart and the graceful accomplishments.” I assume this refers to the type of things a woman could learn at finishing school—like an appreciation for music and art, maybe a bit of poetry, and certainly a flair for table setting. However, she is not to wander too close to the realm of academia. While women are encouraged to read books that will furnish them with “valuable treasures of knowledge,” I have to wonder what kind of knowledge Alphonso means. (Were there books on table setting?) Just a few sentences earlier, he warns that a “predilection for the sciences” is undesirable and will distract women from their familial duties, so the higher planes of knowledge are reserved for men. Yet, women are not to turn to “fictitious nonsense” or become overly attached to books. Alphonso’s instruction seems riddled with subtle contradictions (a characteristic of much of “An Address to the Ladies”), and I'm still not sure what or how much he wants his ideal woman to read.

In examining our current texts, the message that consistently surprises me is that if a woman follows male advice faithfully, she will achieve personal fulfillment. Alphonso claims that his utmost desire is to see women happy. However, the difficulty of living up to male standards doesn’t seem like a surefire recipe for bliss.

Times, They are A-Changin'

As we’ve been discussing in class, our recent readings from the post-Revolution years reflect significant changes from the accounts of witchcraft and early infanticide narratives authored in the late 1600s. Cotton Mather’s The Wonders of the Invisible World was seeped in religious terms, and he effectively used this dramatic language to defend the witchcraft trials. Religious themes carry over into Pillars of Salt and the pre-Revolution infanticide narratives, where consistent warnings to the young people reflect the authors’ instructional tone and desire to maintain strict obedience to community rules. The account of Esther Rodgers emphasized her religious conversion over her actual execution; however, even in this 1701 text, the “tragick scene” is introduced in such theatrical terms that the entertainment value of such a text was becoming apparent. We saw this develop in later infanticide narratives, leading up to the account of unfortunate Harriot Wilson in The Victim of Seduction! and the broadside recounting the sensational story of Rachel Wall. The religious language is minimal in this last text in particular, and Rachel’s adventures make for very little moral instruction. Rather, such accounts of naughty women became "textual commodities." So to me, the Panther Narrative almost seems the next logical step, since writing a “fictional epistle” would allow an author to create as sensational a tale as he wished—with the assurance that the post-Revolution public would buy it up. And because the introduction tells us that “captivity narratives were the most enduring popular narrative form in early America,” the author who wrote under the pseudonym "Abraham Panther" probably knew what type of tale would generate the most success.

Clearly, the concerns of the American audience were changing. The Puritan society of Cotton Mather was geographically close-knit, and the witchcraft texts focus on what occurred within the boundaries of that strictly patriarchal community. Even the infanticide narratives focus on local scandals. But after the Revolution, people began to really look outwards, fascinated by the “mysterious West.” So readers were drawn to a text like the Panther narrative because it fed this broader curiosity. I think that with the drop-off of religious language and conversion themes, you also see a shift from an audience concerned solely with religious matters to an audience that also embraced the more secular aspects of American life (for example, class discussion brought up the interest in politics that accompanied the Revolution).

I thought it was interesting how the portrayal of women in print culture evolved. In infanticide narratives, in particular, we see an inherently weak woman who inevitably falls into temptation when she ventures out from under male authority. So the depiction of the “young woman who was discovered in a rocky cave” is surprising. Capable of surviving nine years in the wilderness on food she grew herself, this woman was not reliant on male guidance or authority; in fact, she’s a good example of a woman who took agency in her situation. In disobeying her father’s wishes, she comes across as strong-willed. The introduction to the narrative explains that the language of change used in post-Revolution texts encouraged citizens to challenge authority. This defiance of authority was something that, for women especially, would have been condemned by Mather and the Puritans—if it didn’t invite an accusation of witchcraft (and a subsequent death warrant)! But what is even more impressive is that the Panther portrayal of the young woman invites such sympathy and admiration; it is her domineering, cruel father who is painted in negative terms. I wouldn’t guess that this narrative reflected a dramatic social flip-flop (bearing in mind that its purpose was to entertain and make a profit rather than make a social statement or describe desirable female attributes), but its popularity shows that society was beginning to accept the textual portrayal of a more “liberated” female.

Young People, Take Heed

Times have changed since Rebekah Chamblit and Patience Boston were executed for infanticide in the 1730s. In a patriarchal, Puritan society, there was only one “right” way for a woman to live—as a meek, submissive, Bible-reading, modest-dressing servant to God and her husband. And the rules imposed on women were defended by the religious beliefs that touched every aspect of Puritan life. Today, however, we live in a very diverse society that is not dictated by the same religious undertones, and this allows people to explore their own interpretations of morality. So there’s no longer one, universally accepted “right” way for a woman to behave. Think about the Puritan view on sex—it was only, only within marriage. But contemporary society has varying views about it. Being a “slut” probably won’t gain you much social approval (and it may earn you censure), but what if you are in a “committed relationship” practicing premarital sex? If we were to go by primetime television and even a few birth control commercials, not only does premarital sex appear acceptable—it almost seems to be the norm. And while women who had extramarital affairs in the 1730s were labeled “adulterers,” today’s television programs often treat these situations with humor or sympathy, as they paint a picture of frustrated women trapped in passionless marriages; they just can’t help themselves, and who are we to judge them for that? Obviously, television isn’t the best reflection of real life, but it does reveal how much public opinion and perceptions have changed. I don’t know that women today are so dissimilar from women in Puritan society, but the societal standards that affect them are shifting. There seems to be much more gray area!

At TCU, I’ve seen these varying standards play out from time to time. I knew a girl who earned a definite reputation for being “slutty” by drinking too much, running out at night with lewd guys, and waking up in someone else’s bed. And she was stigmatized; many other girls looked down on her and talked (or gossiped) negatively about her wild nights on the town. But no one really cared or verbalized judgment about the girl whose boyfriend stayed the night at her house every now and then. There was a different reaction when someone was publicly parading her behavior and when something was done behind closed doors. I have a feeling that if the latter girl wound up pregnant, the tables would turn as her private deeds suddenly became very public. Nowadays, however, I'm not sure that negative opinions, gossip, stares, or even getting the cold shoulder are extremely strong deterrents for all young women engaging in promiscuous behavior. There is enough tolerance in our society that if you aren’t getting it from one group of people, you can often find it elsewhere if you're willing to change company. So in some cases, the emotional punishments lose a little of their effect.

After our class conversations, I do think it’s important to make some mention of how men fit into this big picture. Obviously, they were absent from the Puritan narratives and did not share in the punishment applied to the women they impregnated. I think we still see some of this today, as women who get pregnant out of wedlock are usually saddled with the responsibility of deciding how to deal with it, physically, financially, etc. Men have more choice of whether to walk away or stick around to shoulder the responsibility. It sometimes seems to me that in the latter case, we almost view these men with admiration, as if they’ve made a "noble" choice—not just owned up to their actions like they should. So as much as society has changed over time, the gender issue still seems to lag behind a bit.

The New Witch of the West

Having just finished Rountree’s “The New Witch of the West,” I realized how much my perception of witches and witchcraft has changed over the last couple weeks. Like Rountree, I was a typical Disney-watching child who became well acquainted with the “warty, black-clad old hag who…snared and dined on juicy children.” In the years since then, I don’t know that I’ve ever looked at witches seriously or critically; like the majority of adults mentioned by Rountree in her opening paragraph, I’m more apt to dismiss the idea of witches. However, I started thinking beyond the humorous stereotypes as our class explored the very human, very tragic experiences of the women accused of witchcraft in Salem. Now, after reading about feminist witchcraft, my understanding of witches and how self-proclaimed witches wish to be perceived is much expanded.

We’ve talked a few times about how women who overstepped social boundaries in the rigid, patriarchal society of Salem were “easy targets” in the witch-hunts. I’m glad that this article discussed the clash of women and the male-dominated society at length, examining this unfortunate trend across the centuries. I did not know, for example, that wise women who practiced medicine in Europe posed such a threat to patriarchal control. As present-day readers, we can scoff at how ridiculous it is that a woman practicing healing without a university degree (when she was denied admittance to universities) was labeled a witch. In truth, she probably did not have anything to do with witchcraft. Thus, it makes some sense that feminist scholars have redefined the word “witch” as a woman “who challenges patriarchal control and claims independent knowledge and power.”

As for the feminist witches today, it seems to me that they are more concerned with affirming their “woman-centered spirituality” than they are with the spiritual practices themselves. If these women are primarily focused on establishing a symbol and empowering themselves (reclaiming the agency), I don’t know that labeling themselves “witches” and creating an alternative spirituality, or “designer religion,” are the necessary ways of doing it. Toward the end of the article, Rountree points outs that reinventing the witch in today’s world is a risky undertaking. Society is steeped in stereotypical images, and the word “witch” has a negative connotation. Moreover, any serious practice of witchcraft is still fairly taboo, if it doesn’t incite condemnation. So I seriously doubt that feminist witches will have much success in their mission of change, aside from the personal fulfillment it brings them. Personally, if I were a woman trying to rise above male oppression and embrace my female power, I think I’d do it in such a way that I had some public support or approval. Perhaps…running for vice president? :)

One of the issues discussed in the article that surprised me was the discussion of women who self-identify as Christian and as witch. My reading of the deeply religious Cotton Mather, who passionately discussed the conflict between Christianity and witchcraft, suggested that these belief systems were completely incompatible. Perhaps times have changed, but it’s hard for me to imagine how even a feminist witch (who, as Rountree points out, doesn’t engage in Satantism) could entirely reconcile the two beliefs in the face of continued Christian opposition to witchcraft. The Christian religion may have the equivalents of two aspects of the Goddess trinity—Mary and the virgin mother—but I think it still shuns the “diabolized Crone.”

Wonders of the Invisible World

I grew up in a very conservative home and school, so even the discussion of witches and witchcraft isn’t something I encountered much. In a religious sense, I do believe in a supernatural realm, but while church and private school occasionally raised the subject of angels and even demons, witchcraft was never openly or explicitly discussed. I think that’s interesting given the fact that our culture—as evidenced by the television shows mentioned in the blog prompt—contains so many references to witchcraft and the supernatural.

Granted, I don’t believe that the majority of these references provide an accurate depiction of witchcraft as a seriously practiced religion. It’s treated a bit more dramatically or lightly, sometimes with humor, and although many of the supernaturally charged television shows diverge from the broomstick and pointy black hat, you still see a lot of stereotypical images. Upon reflection, many of the cartoons and movies that I watched as a child lightly portrayed the ugly old witch with a warty nose. Even now, some of my favorite books, like the Harry Potter series or the Lord of the Rings trilogy, include witches and wizards. But I didn’t immediately think of them when sitting down to write this entry; that leads me to think that we’re probably so accustomed to such references that they don’t stand out that prominently in our minds.

However, I do agree with the prompt’s suggestion that we don’t fully understand witchcraft and the supernatural. Obviously, that prompts natural curiosity, and our curiosity is undoubtedly heightened even further when something is considered “taboo.” I need only think of the uproar surrounding Harry Potter. I wonder how many people picked up a copy of The Sorcerer’s Stone just to see what the big to-do was all about.

With regard to the term “witch-hunt,” McCarthy and the communist scare of the 1950s that was mentioned in class stands out as a prime example. Drawing on our class discussion of seventeenth-century Salem and that modern-day example, I began thinking about all the characteristics of a witch-hunt. It’s easily fueled by paranoia, anyone and everyone can become suspect, and sometimes all it takes is one person’s word or suggestion to incite fear in people. That made me think of a conversation I recently had with my dad about how some people unfortunately regarded Muslims in America after 9-11. Although not necessarily the best example of a witch-hunt, those same characteristics were evident. There was heightened paranoia and suspicion, as some people began wondering whether their Muslim neighbors entertained any terrorist sympathies. I remember some relatives telling my family that we should keep an eye on anyone who looked like they were from the Middle East the next time we were at the airport. And with comments like that, wasn’t it hard not to take notice or be a little distrustful? I imagine that the people of Salem felt the same suspicion and alarm during the witch-hunt, as they wondered which of their neighbors was a God-fearing woman and which was a witch.

Finally, in our contemporary society, I think you’d hear numerous perspectives on the existence of evil. For many people, religion provides that framework; according to the Christian religion, evil is driven by Satan and is clearly offset by God’s righteousness. But the diversity of belief systems in America means that not everyone would define evil that way. It’s something that many people may be uncertain about, and again, that may contribute to our curiosity and attraction to the evil side of the supernatural.

Getting to know you...

Hello, all! My name is Julie Schoelles, and I am a senior English major, history and education minor. I am eagerly awaiting graduation after I finish my fifth year "victory lap." I grew up in Keller, Texas, but after four years at TCU, I often just say I'm from Fort Worth. If I could spend all my time reading at the Botanic Gardens, exploring the art museums, walking Trinity Trail, and going to the Bass Hall, I just might do that.

I came to TCU because I didn't want to get too far from home, and I didn't want to attend a school where I felt like a little fish in a big pond. My brother decided at age five that he was going to study at A&M, but that was not for me. I was sold on TCU before the first campus tour was over; I love that I never walk to class without seeing a familiar face. For the first few years, I lived on campus, but I recently became a commuter. So I am going to echo the endless refrain and say that if I were Chancellor, I would do something about parking. I used to inwardly scoff when my peers complained about driving around for fifteen minutes looking for a parking space...I had no idea.

In my ed studies classes, I have answered the question "What makes a good teacher?" more times than I care to think about. But I believe that a good teacher is passionate about what they teach and makes an effort to show the students why. I also think that, as many years as they’ve been studying a subject, a teacher should remain open minded so that students feel free to develop their own opinions. A good student is diligent, attentive, and willing to apply themselves to the subject at hand, rather than expecting to breeze through class with minimal effort.

I think it would be fun to host a dinner party--which would have to be catered since I, the daughter of a chef, don’t like to cook--and I would want to eat with these three people:
1) Queen Elizabeth I, because since I studied abroad in the British Isles three years ago, I can’t get enough of her.
2) Rosalind Miles, the author of a book titled I, Elizabeth. It captivates me, and I try to read it every summer. Her writing style is gorgeous--I want to write like that.
3) My adopted cousin Max, who came to the U.S. from Kazakhstan two years ago. He lives (appropriately enough) in Salem, MA, and I’ve never had the chance to meet him. Of course, he’s ten and still speaks a lot of Russian, so he might not appreciate the conversation...

Three things about me: 1) I love to travel, and as much as I love Texas and home, I would move to Edinburgh in a heartbeat. 2) I am addicted to coffee and live theatre. 3) I’ve spent the last two years teaching English and history to students with autism and other disabilities, so I am becoming well versed in children’s literature; I split my summer between Dickens and Avi.

Three things I’d like to know about you: 1) If the world was your playground, where would you like to go? 2) Any amusing pet peeves? 3) What is the best thing you’ve found to do in Fort Worth (or Dallas)? I'm always taking suggestions.

I signed up for this course at the last minute after dropping a different class. I needed something to replace it, and “Studies in Early American Literature”—while pretty ambiguous—sounded like it could be promising. I received the syllabus this morning via email and was immediately intrigued. I cannot think of many more fascinating things to study than witches, infanticide, and female pirates. And I can’t say that I know much about any of them, so I expect that this class is going to amply satisfy my curiosity.

As a reader, I enjoy almost anything and everything, so it's impossible for me to summarize my taste in literature. I get my fair share of the classics during the semester, so I try to pack my summer with a little bit of everything; however, I just finished reading A Tale of Two Cities. I felt a bit guilty that all I knew about Darnay and Carton was what I remembered from watching Wishbone as a child. Lately, my novels have been replaced by manuscripts, as I've been working for several weeks at TCU Press. Editing doesn’t afford me the opportunity to do a lot of original writing, but in case my long blog entry isn’t indication enough, once I start writing, I'll go on and on and on. I tend to be very wordy when I’m not composing academic papers (although I'm still the student who asks for permission to go over the 12-page limit). And I don't do a lot of creative writing, but I wish I had the time for it. At the moment, I feel a bit “out of practice” as far as writing goes, so getting back into the school routine will help.

I didn’t create this blog with any argument in mind, but I think it's a good reflection of who I am as a student. I'm dedicated and genuinely interested in what I'm studying. I focus on the things I really enjoy, like literature, history, and culture. I tried to pick the most “antiquated” layout to be true to that, and the picture to reflect the course. I'm sure it will change as I play with it. I haven't kept a blog since high school, so I think this will be fun.

Lastly, I have read, understand, and agree with the terms of the syllabus.