Thursday, March 5, 2009

Mini-Essay: "Religious Dysphoria" Posted by Carolina Arana

Although her intimate thoughts and feelings were left unattended and hidden from public view, as “[she] grew Religious as to the outward,” Elizabeth Ashbridge’s frustrations with religion are utilized to overcome the constraints along her path to establish an independent identity. What had defined Ashbridge up to her religious awakening was her condition as the unwanted daughter of her Father, an indentured servant girl, a tragically young widow, and the victim of an abusive husband—a series of roles she had to play under the authority of outside forces. Drawn to religion as a means to overcome the pain of her tragedies and her “[own] Sins” (Ashbridge, 156), as she calls the tragic occurrences in her life, she believes she can find deliverance from the stifling forces that keep her constant in her discontentment. Ashbridge appeals for “Pardon” (Ashbridge, 156) and welcomes punishment so she may be freed. By sole virtue of being a woman, as is likewise evident in the events of Anne Hutchinson’s life (Antinomian Controversy, 316), she is suffocated by the need to comply with the standards set for her to be a lady, to maintain control of her household, and be submissive to the wishes of others – interpreting misfortune in the domestic realm as grounds for personal guilt and shame. Through many narratives is evident the correlation between attempting to juggle the private aspect of identity with the public pressure of predetermined roles or places for women. Ashbridge is ravaged by an “old Accusser,” that I interpret as the patriarchal institutions that impose control over women, which ultimately leads her down the frightening and unfamiliar path to self-discovery. Unaccustomed to searching for a place of her own, Ashbridge longs for “all the world [to be hers]” ("Ashbridge, 156) and thereby displays her longing for a place to bring recognition to her identity. Religion serves as a vehicle for her to gain this freedom. What is ironic is that, as in the life of Hutchinson, religion is often utilized as a weapon against the revolt of women. For Hutchinson, the men in her society interpreted the word of God not in its intended fashion but as a means by which they successfully became “[her] judges” (“Antinomian,” 316). A duality exists within religion concerning the lives of women. In one sense religion means education, inclusion in society, and a sense of hope; alternatively, religion can act as a burden and a tool of manipulation by convincing women that they are divinely meant for a sentence in a domestic prison. In Ashbridge’s case, the symbolic struggle to find a religion that best suits her, and thereby an identity that she is satisfied with, becomes a woman’s quest to break away from a suppressive patriarchal force and lessen the need to veil the private aspects - emotions, thoughts, ideas -of her existence. Her frustration and dissatisfaction with all other religions shows the desire of her true self to finally be recognized, and in the most liberating form possible (she is now able to preach). Her husband felt she had been “altered” to a woman from which he could obtain no “comfort” (Ashbridge, 157). He personifies that suppressive patriarchal force. Their connection is severed once she can no longer fulfill the domestic roles set for her - represented by Ashbridge as her ability to "divert [her husband] with a Song", symbolic of the entertainment value placed on women ("Ashbridge", 156). True conversion was needed for her to get out of this “melancholy state”; her discontent is her wound and her husband - and all the patriarchal forces he represents - is the cause. She no longer embodies those outward roles of an abused wife or unloved daughter – Ashbridge evolved to be defined by the content of her soul (which is devoid of gender identification) as her Quaker religion, for all its pitfalls, allowed her to be.

Works Cited

1) "The Antinomian Controversy, 1636-1638. A Documentary History" Edited by David D. Hall. Duke University Press: Durham and London, 1990.

2.) Ashbridge, Elizabeth. "Some Account of the Fore Part of the Life of Elizabeth Ashbridge." Journeys in New Worlds: Early American Women's Narratives. Ed. William L. Andrews, Sargent Bush, Jr., Annette Kolodny, Amy Schrager Lang, and Daniel B. Shea. Madison, WI: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1990.

Mini-Essay: "Males Get Frustrated Too" (Posted by Steve Acquaviva)

When I was looking for the excerpts I wanted to use, I came across one I liked very much in Martha Milcah Moore’s Book, titled “A Letter of Farewell from a Gent. to a young Woman whom he had long paid his Addresses to in vain.” I liked the idea of looking at this frustration that was prevalent in many of the writings we’ve covered, but from the opposite viewpoint, that of a male. The frustration is evident throughout the writer’s entire piece, but is most obvious in the lines

“Unhappy Sex!—Let this Example prove,

How close Indiff’rence follows slighted Love;

Repuls’d, how soon the offended God departs,

And stirs Rebellion in yr. Subjects Hearts,

Unless Complaisance fly to Beauty’s Aid,

And fix the Conquests which her Charms have made” (187).

The writer harbors great frustration that the woman he loved has not returned his love, and he’s written a rather elegant poem describing his regret over the loss. He feels he’s received nothing but “Indiff’rence” from her while he’s tried to give her his love, and this poem is just a total outpouring of his emotions over that fact. Elsewhere in the poem, he refers to his “captive Heart” and how “Within [his] Bosom every Source of Love” sat, and how her rejection has filled him with “jealous Rage.” The last line is especially poignant, with him basically stating that even though he has to move on to women he finds to be “less fair,” they’ll delight less in his pain. This just helps to show that women of the time weren’t the only ones wallowing in frustration, and that men of the time could also be run though the emotional ringer.


Another great example of male frustration due to a female love came in Elizabeth Ashbridge’s work. Her husband is so upset over her conversion to Quakerism that he actually exclaims “I’d rather heard She had been dead as well as I Love her, for if so, all my comfort is gone” (161). Ashbridge and her husband have not seen each other for four months, and when he returns she’s converted from the accepted religion of Puritanism to the seeming cult of the Quakers. This would be the past-day equivalent of a guy not seeing his girlfriend for a few months, and when he finally does see her again, she’s become a Hari Krishna or David Karesh follower. It’s understandably upsetting to a point, and the guy has a right to be mad about it. Looking at it from a modern day perspective, I wouldn’t want my wife or girlfriend joining what was looked upon as nothing but a crazy cult, but I’d also feel there was more room for discussion than what he’s willing to give to her, especially considering the next scene in her work.

Ashbridge and her husband find their way to a tavern, and her husband basically makes fun of her for her conversion to the crowd of patrons. One of them gets his fiddle and her husband tries to ridicule her into singing and dancing for them, and in doing so basically renouncing her Quakerism. It’s at this point that the husband’s frustration has turned into more of a violent frenzy at her disobedience to him, and he stops being a sympathetic character at this point. Once the violinist realizes her husband’s state of mind he says, "I'll play no more, Let your wife alone" (162). This is important, because it was an outsider and not Ashbridge’s husband that halts her ridicule. He totally ceases to be a positive influence on her life, and turns into someone giving her only scorn, and not empathy. I find this to be important because it shows how easily frustration can give way to much more negative emotions. The first poem from Moore’s book clearly shows the writer entering a sort of depression over his love’s rejection of him, and now Ashbridge’s work shows her husband’s descent into aggression, after starting out as a more or less sympathetic character. These are some of the dangers of frustration, and I felt it was important to show them from a male point of view also, considering my group has mostly handled them from a female perspective.

Works Cited
Ashbridge, Elizabeth.  "Some Account of the Fore Part of the Life of Elizabeth Ashbridge...".  Journeys in New Worlds:  Early American Women's Narratives. Ed. WIlliam L. Andrews, Sargent Bush, Annette Kolodny, Amy Schrager Lang, and Daniel B. Shea.  Madison, WI: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1990.

Moore, Milcah Martha.  Milcah Martha Moore's Book:  A Commonplace Book from Revolutionary America.  Ed. Catherine La Courreye Blecki and Karin A. Wulf.  University Park, PA: Penn State UP

Mini-Essay "Trapped and Frustrated" (Posted by Kate Buehler)

Writing of Sarah Pharaoh’s story is odd because we lack a story in her own voice. The tale that is presented to us is a retelling of the events surrounding her trial for infanticide. Because we see only the side of those prosecuting Sarah Pharaoh, we are slightly biased against her as readers. Her place in society as a woman is works against her, as she is a lower citizen, and has the physical ability to be guilty of attempting to terminate a pregnancy. The charges against her were strong: she was observed to have telltale signs of pregnancy and the corpse of a dead infant was found near her residence. No evidence is offered in support of Pharaoh’s argument, only against her.
Her frustration would have stemmed from being trapped in her situation, regardless of her guilt. If she had been guilty, she would have been torn as to whether or not to confess. If she did confess, her guilt would have been absolved, but she would have been executed for her crime. If she failed to confess, her mortal life would be spared, but she would have to live with her guilt, and her soul would likely be damned. If she was innocent of the charges, asserting her guiltlessness would have done no good, because no one would have believed her. In every instance, Pharaoh was facing frustration inextricably tied with her supposed guilt.
In addition to her frustration with her situation, none of Pharaoh’s contemporaries seemed at all willing to back up her story. One must wonder how “the willingness of her compatriots to testify against her “ affected Pharaoh. In a time when women were treated as second-class citizens, it would have stood to reason that they would support each other through difficult times. However, Pharaoh’s contemporaries reported her changing physique, her pregnancy symptoms, and her quest for the means to abort her pregnancy. It seems as though none of them showed any loyalty to her. While in the midst of an already stressful and frustrating situation, that form of abandonment would have caused a great amount of anxiety for Pharaoh. The women who were called upon to testify at Pharaoh’s trial were respected, and had they provided testimony for her instead of against her, it may have absolved Pharaoh of her guilt. “[Sambo]…comes across as a diligent, responsible matron, questioning Pharaoh’s “burley” shape, examining the places where she had lain or sat, and questioning Pharaoh as to the ‘reason of it.’” Those presiding were quite willing to accept Sambo’s testimony against Pharaoh, whichs begs the question: what if she had testified that Pharaoh had never been pregnant? Would they have been willing to believe Sambo’s testimony if it was not useful to them? Or would her position as a woman have undermined her testimony unless it worked for Pharaoh’s accusers?
From a modern perspective, in a time when women are accustomed to having the right to choose, reading the tale of a woman who was trapped in a situation that she had no escape from, one that we would consider amendable, triggers something. It is almost painful to read about a woman who has endured not only the trial for a crime that is not concretely proven, but to have experienced the abandonment of her contemporaries, who she no doubt counted on for support.
In trying to see this situation from Sarah Pharaoh’s point of view, it becomes clear that she was trapped in every way possible. Her abandonment by her fellow women meant that she had no one to speak for her, and her life and her soul were in peril, regardless of the outcome of the trial. She was an unfortunate woman, trapped by the constraints of her gender. Clearly, frustration would have been a prominent emotion for Sarah Pharaoh during the time that she was accused.

“A Faithful Narrative of the Wicked Life and Remarkable Conversion of Patience Boston”, 1738.

Bross, Kristina and Wyss, Hilary E. Early Native Literacies in New England: A Documentary and Critical Anthology. University of Massachusetts press, 2008.

Mini Essay: "Frustration via Sensation" (Posted by Novi Peroldo)

As one can certainly know by examining colonial culture through the narratives of its women, emotion is a sensation best withheld. Unlike the Victorian women of that era’s novels who are constantly engrossed with emotions and hysterics, the colonial women is an impenetrable being of reserve. However, in times of great distress, emotion is allowed. For example, when Mary Rowlandson despairs over the victory that the natives claim over her countrymen, she breaks down in tears, as she writes, she “fell a-weeping” (42). It may be arguable whether this expression of emotion is a device to implore to her reader the despair and frustration of her situation. In fact, knowing that colonial culture is often devoid of emotion, there is little other explanation for such an expression. Whether that emphasis is based on a writer’s desire to impact his or her reader or to strengthen the text for the purposes of religious propaganda is something that can hardly be argued cohesively without entering the realm of speculation. We can only know these women through their writings and circumstantial evidence which at the very most only lead to more speculation.

Nonetheless, Rowlandson is not alone in this controversial position. Ashbridge as well writes her biography in religious terms and as a result of a religious event: conversion. Again here we see an unusual (read: public) demonstration of emotion. When Ashbridge’s husband, in his refusal to accept her Quaker conversion, forces Ashbridge to dance with him at the tavern in front of strangers, Ashbridge gives way to crying. In her own words, Ashbridge writes “He then pluck'd me round the Room till Tears affected my Eyes” (162). In some way, Ashbridge’s expression of frustration, of despair, echoes Rowlandson’s. They have both found themselves captive, at the mercy of their captors, and their only release of the frustration as a result of such a situation is manifested by way of crying, a defiant gesture given the sense of propriety in colonial society.

Another way one could interpret the release of such emotions is that these women would normally have a private sphere to retreat to – the ‘appropriate’ venue for their emotions. Captive as they both are, one literally (Rowlandson) and the other figuratively (Ashbridge), they are stripped of their private sphere by which they would otherwise express such frustration. Ultimately, the straits of their conditions forces to the public sphere that which would have always been constrained to the private. In addition, you could dare say that this lack of privacy enhances their frustration thereby allowing them to give way to outward emotion. They each have no where else to express themselves and such a predicament can cause one to act unlike herself. Rowlandson herself expresses contempt with herself for showing emotion and tries to restrain herself from doing so. However, even this must be building up an aquifer of tears for her. Occasionally, the tears come through. Why? Because she and also Ashbridge have no other way to be frustrated and no other place in which to engage the emotion.

Works Cited

Ashbridge, Elizabeth. "Some Account of the Fore Part of the Life of Elizabeth Ashbridge...". Journeys in New Worlds: Early American Women's Narratives. Ed. William L. Andrews, Sargent Bush, Jr., Annette Kolodny, Amy Schrager Lang, and Daniel B. Shea. Madison, WI: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1990.

Rowlandson, Mary. "The Captivity and Restoration of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson". Journeys in New Worlds: Early American Women's Narratives. Ed. William L. Andrews, Sargent Bush, Jr., Annette Kolodny, Amy Schrager Lang, and Daniel B. Shea. Madison, WI: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1990.

EXCERPT: Patience Boston (Posted By Kate Buehler)

“I went out a Nights, and kept bad Company, and followed lewd Practices till I was freed from my Master, after which I thought my self happy that I had no Body to Command me. I might do as I pleased, and I grew worse and worse, and fell into the Sin of Stealing, and all with little or no Remorse of Conscience. In about a Year, I was Married to a Negro Servant; and because his Master would have it so, I bound myself a Servant with him during his Life Time, or as long as we both should live. “
“After this I was drawn in to the Love of strong Drink, by some Indians, & used to abuse my Husband in Words and Actions, being mad and furious in my Drink, speaking dreadful Words, and wishing bad Wishes to my self and others. After I found I was with Child, I had tho’ts of murdering it and whilst I was big I ran away from my Master, my Husband being Absent on a Whaling Voyage, and I drank hard, and broke the Marriage Covenant, being wicked above Measure. After I got Home, I was delivered of a Child, which I had hurt in my Rambling, so that both its Arms were broken, as was found in Dressing the Child, and it died in a few Weeks, so that I now think that I an Guilty of its Death. But my Conscience then was in a dead Sleep. I went on in Drinking, Lying, Swearing, and Quarelling with my Husband, who gave me little or no Occasion, unless by his continual good Counsel. But after I found my self to be with Child again, I was brought under some Conviction, so that I refrain’d from my wicked Courses, and loved to hear my Husband read, and would sit up to read my self after the Folks were in Bed, and loved the hear the Word Preached, and began to pray in Secret, according to my first Mistress’s Counsel, though I have never practiced this great Duty before. I went also to speak with the Minister, about my Spiritual State and present Troubles, who gladly received me, and both Counselled and Encouraged me, gave me a Catechism and turned me to several Answers which he judg’d suitable for me, advising me to think much of them. He gave me also an excellent little Book, and came to me with farther good Instructions. My Convictions continued several Months, and good People hoped I was becoming a new Creature. But I left God, and he left Me.”
“A Faithful Narrative of the Wicked Life and Remarkable Conversion of Patience Boston”, 1738.

EXCERPT: Elizabeth Ashbridge (3) (Posted by Steve Acquaviva)

“In this Condition I continued till my Husband came, & then began the Tryal of my Faith. Before he reached me he heard I was turned Quaker, at which he stampt, saying “I’d rather heard She had been dead as well as I Love her, for if so, all my comfort is gone.” He then came to me & had not seen me before for four Months. I got up & met him saying, “My Dear, I am glad to see thee,” at which he flew in a Passion of anger & said, “The Divel thee thee, don’t thee me” (161).

Source: Ashbridge, Elizabeth. "Some Account of the Fore Part of the Life of Elizabeth Ashbridge...". Journeys in New Worlds: Early American Women's Narratives. Ed. William L. Andrews, Sargent Bush, Jr., Annette Kolodny, Amy Schrager Lang, and Daniel B. Shea. Madison, WI: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1990.

EXCERPT: Sarah Pharoah (Posted by Kate Buehler)

"Since confession might well lead her to the hangman’s noose, she steadfastly denied that she had been with child – despite the considerable evidence (requests for abortifacient roots, telltale spots of blood and milk, the dead body of a baby) and the willingness of her compatriots to testify against her. Sambo’s testimony was assembled into a coherent narrative by the English justices, but her depisition still bears traces of the original questions and answers of her interview. She comes across as a diligent, responsible matron, questioning Pharaoh’s “burley” shape, examining the places where she had lain or sat, and questioning Pharaoh as to “the reason of it.” Similarly, Indian Hannah seems well aware of the colonial laws governing midwifery – either she or her examiner made it clear that she refused to obtain certain roots for Pharaoh, knowing full well that they might cause her to run afoul of the colonial authorities, for whom infaniticide was a capital offense. (92)"

Bross, Kristina and Wyss, Hilary E. Early Native Literacies in New England: A Documentary and Critical Anthology. University of Massachusetts press, 2008.