As I make my way through my first year after having earned my M.A. in English, I’m finding myself with an increased need for communication with other early modernists. I am certainly keeping up my interests in the field through reading, research, and writing, and of course this blog — but I feel the need for a closer knit, more stable early modernist community. I suppose, being an adjunct, I’d like more communication with others who study the early modern and renaissance periods in their post-grad lives (post-Master’s, post-PhD) and wondered: is anyone out there? Quite simply, this is a proposal for a renaissance/early modern online reading group. I would, of course, be willing to play host here, and thought that we could incorporate reading, at a set interval that all members would agree on, both a piece of literature from the period as well as a current/recently published piece of critical work on some aspect of the period. A sample of how it might work: we read a literary work once a week/two weeks/month as a group, and each member reads and contributes a detailed review/analysis of a critical work (of their choice, of course) once a week/two weeks/month. And, of course, copious commenting, discussion, and analysis ensue. Additionally, skype or the like might be interesting, but would only work if we could agree on days/times that work for everyone — otherwise good old blogging would do just fine.

 

Does anyone else think this would be a nice way to keep current in the field, pursue interests, and share?

If you’re interested in something like this, please let me know — I’m looking to start this ASAP, and ensure that it runs regularly

 

 

I thought, after such a long hiatus, that I owed you all quite a substantial post. So, I thought I’d share a draft of a paper I wrote on Othello, which I’m using as the basis for a lecture in my Women in Literature course this fall. Under the cut!

(more…)

Since I’m sans- PhD program acceptance right now but still want to pursue research I hope a PhD program will someday help me finish, I’m using the time left over from teaching to do some research. At the very least, I want to really flesh out my thesis in some detail; while it’s more than a general interest at this point, it is yet to become a legitimately detailed argument.

A quote from my statement of purposes gives you an idea of how my thesis is, at the moment, slightly more than a general interest and less than a detailed, feasible thesis:

My dissertation plan is to examine how performances of privacy and its opposite function within and inform these topics (economy, the state, and the family) as areas of transformation and transition. In particular, my proposal is to interrogate how privacy and domesticity functioned as a facet of performing constructed gender, and the ways in which women’s performance of privacy or its opposite informed constructions of domesticity, class, and state.

I’m not sure, yet, since I need to do more research, whether or how much of a role gender is going to play – although my feeling, as a feminist, women’s studies instructor, and early modernist, is that gender has a role in everything (but especially privacy and its’ opposite).

Again, though, this post is really aimed at outlining the basics. So I got very basic: dictionary basic. But of course, I went classy with it…classy like the Oxford English Dictionary.

The best approach for formulating a thesis centered on the interaction of privacy and domesticity with economic, state, and familial structures seemed to be to pin down exactly what I meant by privacy and domesticity (I may continue with this in another post and set out what I mean by privacy’s opposite). Here are the time-specific definitions I found relevant to my research, at least for the moment:

Privacy

  1. The state or condition of being alone, undisturbed, or free from public attention; as a matter of choice or right; seclusion; freedom from interference or intrusion.
  2. The state of being privy to some act.
  3. Absence or avoidance of publicity or display; secrecy, concealment, discretion; protection from public knowledge or availability.

Private

  1. Not open to the public; restricted to one particular person or group of people.
  2. Concerning, involving, or affecting a particular person or group of people apart from the general community; individual or personal, rather than communal or shared.
  3. Of or relating to a person as an individual or in a non-official capacity; not connected with one’s work or official position.
  4. Not officially recognized or authorized.
  5. Belonging to or forming the exclusive property of an individual, company, etc.
  6. Of a person: retiring, reclusive; living a quiet or secluded life; reserved, unsociable.
  7. People who hold no public office, as a class.

Domestic

  1. Having a character or position of the inmate of a house; to be of the household of.
  2. Of or belonging to the home, house, or household; pertaining to one’s place of residence or family affairs.
  3. Of or pertaining to one’s own country or nation.
  4. A household servant or attendant.

The emphasis added above was mine, of course; bolded portions or words are those aspects I found particularly suited to application for analysis. And there we have it, really: the above are the instances of privacy, private, and domestic I’ll be looking for in my research from this point on. Any critiques of the above in terms of whether this constellation of definitions is too broad/narrow/general or otherwise, AND/OR other suggestions/comments are welcome. I’m hoping this will generate discussion that will function as food for thought as I continue my research. Thanks for reading!

I apologize in advance to those who wanted to read a *real* post: this is more of an inquiry, and is of course targeted mostly toward those with an existing background in the subject, but of course anyone is encouraged and welcome to take part by way of response, or even thinking about King Lear the way I’ve set out here (although I may not have done quite such a good job of explaining myself, for brevity’s sake).

Since I’m trying to make myself more marketable for the academic market – and even more than that, pursuing a subject I’m interested in for long-term research – I’d like to use this forum to ask for some advice from those willing to give it. I’m in the process of ‘working up’ a course paper I wrote several months back in my M.A. program, hoping to submit it for publishing: I’m hoping I can gain some perspective and advice here on where I can go for further research.

My thesis for the paper is that King Lear can be read as being informed by a series of interrelated socio-economic changes occurring at the time in early modern England. I am attempting to situate the play within the context of the movement from a communal, subsistence based economy toward a privatized proto-capitalistic, profit based economy that, I would argue at least, occurred simultaneously with and in direct relation to the debate between primogeniture and gavelkind (divisible inheritance rather than a scheme in which the oldest male heir inherits property undivided). In addition, I’m also incorporating two other ideas: (1) the idea that the shift in England’s economy was in large part due to a shift in the nature and goals of the ‘old’ aristocracy that Henry eradicated to solidify his power and claim to the throne in contrast to that of the ‘new aristocracy’ that remained in power through to Elizabeth’s reign (2) that the debate over inheritance schemes was much more widespread than contemporary historians and critics let on for the most part.

My overall goal, then, is to argue that King Lear is a warning against the dangers of a complete turn toward proto-capitalism, a profit-based economy, and primogeniture. Things start to go awry when Lear diminishes steadily the amount of inheritors among which he will divide his land in response to the profit-driven actions of those inheritors: Cordelia does not love him enough, and he reads this as a concern over land and inheritance only; Regan and Goneril remove themselves by their attempts at making profit from their land and their aging father. In general, I’m looking for any advice or thoughts you can give me on such an argument, especially in terms of primary and secondary resources. If you need more detail on this, please email me at laurelai@live.com and I’d be happy to provide you with some or all of the paper, depending on how interested you are and how much detail you need.

There will be a real post soon, I promise!

Since Christmas – or should I say good old Dad, among others – was kind to me in the wonderful form of gift cards, I’ve been doing some reading: namely Emily Cockayne’s Hubbub: Filth, Noise and Stench in England, 1600-1770. Although a fascinating read, rather than address the specific merits of the book just yet (considering I haven’t quite finished the book ), I thought I’d pursue a topic mentioned in passing in Hubbub that sparked a thought process for me. I’d eventually like to research, question, and think about this topic in more depth, so any comments – especially thoughts and reading suggestions – is encouraged.

Here goes:

In the chapter of her book entitled “Ugly,” Emily Cockayne takes a paragraph to address what were known as “beauty spots” or “black spots” in early modern England and the period following it. Although she cites texts written well after the Elizabethan and Jacobean reigns that are my historical focus, the phenomenon began during these time periods. Cockayne explains that “small facial blemishes such as spots and scars could be covered with black patches” (24). Thinking about the phenomenon from a modern aesthetic, I began to wonder not only what caused this fashion in black patches, but also what kind of “work” these patches did in terms of the social fabric of early modern England.

My initial thoughts are that these spots had much to do with early modern attitudes toward artificiality and uniformity – both within and outside of the context of beauty and aesthetics. What struck me most about the use of black patches is the preference for visually obvious artificially fashioned black patches (which would contrast with the preferred overall ‘fair’ complexion most women strove to achieve) over more natural-looking remedies that could cover or camouflage blemishes in such a way that did not contrast so sharply with the overall skin tone of the user. It occurred to me that this contrast and artificiality was precisely the point of these patches: after all, beauty (especially among the wealthy) in Elizabethan England was all about artificiality and the over-the-top factor (white skin, bright red lips, deep pink cheeks, excessively arched eyebrows). I’m not quite sure yet whether I would say these were a mark of social status/wealth, but I would say they are a mark of deliberate ostentation, an ornament meant to draw attention its wearer.

In addition to its artificiality, I think these black spots had much to do with uniformity.  In a lecture called “Shakespearean Beauty Marks,” Stephen Greenblatt argues that Shakespeare violates “the featurelessness that is his period’s cultural ideal,” valuing instead distinct facial marks that “act out individuation.” I think, instead, that these black spots do the work of “making uniform” for Elizabethan culture. Although the black spots might be seen as distinct facial marks, I would argue that these black patches were not only a way of ostentatiously ornamenting the face, but also of “making uniform” the blemishes and marks that the black spots covered, perhaps as part of a “making uniform” that was occurring on a larger scale in the social fabric of Elizabethan through Reformation England.

What do you think?

Thoughts, criticisms, and suggestions encouraged – and of course, Happy Renaissancing!

Given my lack of participation in the conversation on ‘Tis Pity She’s a Whore hosted by Jennifer and Michael5000, I thought I’d write my own post here. Since Jennifer and Michael5000 have decided to limit the conversation up until now to some initial reactions and thoughts about the play’s genre, Ford’s outrageous use of the incest trope in the play, and the status of ‘revenge’ in the play, this seems to be a good time to do some good old fashioned critical work on ‘Tis Pity and invite whoever would like to contribute to do so.

Given my research interests in privacy, ‘the action of ‘Tis Pity for me hinged at least partly on the character’s adherence to or rejection of privacy. Jennifer makes a wonderful argument which I’d like to build upon here that Ford’s incest trope is intentionally outrageous:  Giovanni’s arguments in justification of the incest, and the complete lack of inhibition with which incest is accepted and played out, create a situation in which the audience simply cannot take the trope seriously and so other aspects of the play – like sophistry – are indirectly highlighted.  If we look at the incest trope in terms of privacy, it becomes clear that Jennifer’s idea of indirect highlighting works with privacy in ‘Tis Pity on several levels.

The introduction of the incestuous relationship between Giovanni and Annabella is itself predicated on the performance of privacy tropes. In 1.1 we have Giovanni’s specious attempt at justifying the morality of his sexual rights to Annabella:

                Shall, then, for that I am her brother born,

                My joys be ever banished from her bed?

                No, father; in your eyes I see the change

                Of pity and compassion…

Taking Giovanni’s argument literally here, the denial of access to a woman’s bed constitutes the incest taboo itself; in other words, women’s maintenance of privacy with regard to her bed and her body upholds the incest taboo, while failure to perform this expectation undoes the incest taboo and thus begins to affect the stability of England’s socio-economic structure. Later, the Friar will tell Giovanni to “lock thee fast/Alone within thy chamber” as a means to prevent him access to Annabella’s chamber in the event she should not perform her own privacy. This might be as far a stretch as the relationship between Giovanni and Annabella, but again, as Jennifer says, the pure ridiculousness of the relationship forces readers and audiences to ignore it in favor of other themes or commentary.

I was puzzled a bit by a particular set of lines that actually hinged on the word private:

                Giovanni: Sister, I would be private with you

                Annabella: Withdraw, Putana

Putana: I will. If this were any other company for her, I should think my absence an office of some credit; but I will leave them together. (1.3)

It may be that some small part of me wants to read this line too naively for Ford, but I’m not sure whether to think Putana thinks that Annabella’s maintenance of privacy – or the lack thereof – can halt or further her relationship with suitors. To put it crudely, if Annabella decides not to uphold the barriers that create her privacy, sexual relations can ensue and will be as Putana says a ‘credit’ to Annabella’s  chances of securing a husband. As I say, a naïve part of me doesn’t want to believe that Ford is being this crude and obvious, but it seems so. Comments would be more than welcome here: what do you all think?

Hippolita and Vasques perform interesting examples of the way that privacy works within the Soranzo revenge plot. Whereas Annabella’s ability or failure to maintain the barrier that creates privacy influenced the viability and validity of the incest trope, Hippolita is able to challenge the structure of Soranzo’s privacy early on in ‘Tis Pity. Soranzo’s privacy functions to allow him to pursue his feelings for Annabella without Hippolita’s knowledge, so when she permeates this barrier in 2.2 (“What rude intrusion interrupts my peace?/Can I be no where private?”) it is to expose and deny Soranzo’s less than honest pursuit of Annabella. Later, when Hippolita conspires with Vasques, upholding the boundaries of privacy to include Vasques  enables Hippolita – or so she thinks, at least – to successfully perform her revenge plan. She promises Vasques that “wert thou mine, and woulds’t be private to me and my designs, I here protest, myself, and all what I can else call mine, should be at thy dispose.”

I think there is definitely much more to say about privacy in this play, and this is admittedly a very superficial look at privacy in ‘Tis Pity that could be, in the long run, developed into a much more nuanced reading. I think for now, though, I’d like to stop here and see what you think: comments, suggestions, and disagreements are most eagerly awaited and welcome!

Sorry for having been gone for so long, but PhD applications tend to be…well, consuming to say the least. But, I hope, well worth the effort! In any case, this is a quick post to let you all know that I’ve added an addendum to my previous post on John Taylor, aftering a thought-provoking — and very refreshing — conversation via comment with Jennifer (if you haven’t already, check out http://emue.wordpress.com/). Aside from enjoying, I hope, the further discussion of Taylor’s text I’ve added, I hope you’ll be patient and wait for my next post, which I promise will be within the next two or three days, perhaps sooner.

Til then, Happy Renaissancing!

In concert with my penchant for quirkily roguish but ultimately harmless citizen-poets (as opposed to citizen soldiers, though I love them as well, albeit more in the way that some love men in uniform), I’ve decided to dig up John Taylor (pun definitely, and quite cheekily intended. Ha!), the famous Water Poet.

It seems that at least within the context of what I have read (I should post a running list of this at some point) poor John Taylor hasn’t been given much attention. My certified John Taylor credentials, however, allow me to assert that he received quite a bit of attention during his trips ferrying passengers across the Thames. Caricatures aside, though, I’d like to take an honest and soberly analytical crack at a piece or two of Taylor’s. Despite being author of the famous line “A woman, a dog, a walnut tree, / The more you beat them the better they be,” John Taylor’s work makes a meaty plate for any early modernist.

First on the list would be biographical factoids. Of course I admit these can sometimes become predictable and (gasp!) sometimes seem trivial, but for Taylor they bear specific importance to his work. We often tend to think of Shakespeare as having been relatively limited in his education and humble in his upbringing and class (at least until the Globe and other theaters began to bring him significant income), but John Taylor trumps him by far in being able to feed a formidable wit on very little, so to speak. John Taylor literally was “The Water Poet” per the title he claimed in his published work. Having failed to complete grammar school because of difficulties with Latin, he became apprenticed to a waterman in London during his adolescence. Oddly enough, his position as a waterman put him in the perfect position to realize his literary ambitions: watermen predominantly worked ferrying customers to and from the theaters in Southwark, so Taylor’s trade would have put him into contact with playwrights, actors, and all manner of others associated with the theatre business. In fact, he seems to have had a bro-mance of sorts with the Ben Johnson himself.

Taylor was well aware of the inconsistency between his social status and his literary ambitions, using this disconnect as an advertising trick calling attention to the wonder of a mere waterman with wit and talent enough to write. In fact, though, his social status would have given him the perfect background to write social satire and bawdy verse. In addition, it’s my theory that he was able to draw material and insight from multiple social positions: his father was a surgeon, which I imagine may have given his family some level of status, depending on where he practiced. I would be greatly appreciative of anyone who might know about more about the medical field – particularly salary and social status – at this time. That said, I’d like to explore and expose some of what he wrote.

Taylor wrote in a variety of genres and modes, ranging from religious tracts to social commentary and satire. It is generally accepted that his talent fell more on the side of satire and social commentary, but those critics that examine these parts of his body of work seem to do so mostly to examine social history. I’d like to try to strike a balance here between looking at Taylor’s work through a framework of social history, and viewing it in terms of what it does as a piece of literature. Taylor is responsible for writing pamphlets such as A cluster of coxcombs, A late weary merry voyage and journey, and Mercurius Nonsencicus – I’d like to post more on these eventually. For now, though, I found A Bawd : A vertuous Bawd, a modest Bawd: As Shee Deserves, reproove, or else applaud sufficiently interesting and celebratory of the London underworld for discussion here. I’ve posted the full text here in the event that this post sparks a further interest in the text – which I earnestly hope it does!

On an obvious level, and in concert with the majority of critics who have written about Taylor, his work is ripe for social historians and cultural studies critics. In an introductory paragraph to the pamphlet, Taylor outlines the upbringing of a bawd in terms reminiscent of early modern notions of good breeding and the preparation necessary for court life.

Nor is the skill and knowledge of a substantiall or absolute Bawd easily gotten or learned; no my Masters, there is more in the matter then so; Frist, shee is a young prettie Girle, and passeth time away in the instructions, rudiments, and documents of a Whore, till she hath attained (with many hazards) to the yeares of 30 or 35. in all which space she hath not spent her time idlely, but hath beene a creature of much use, having for the com|mon cause, adventur’d the blemmish of her Repu|tation, the rigour of the Lawes, as whippings, Penance, Imprisonments, Fines, Fees to Justices Clarkes, Beadles, and such inferiour Reliques of Authoritie. Besides, her valorous combates and conflicts with Diseases, (wherein shee often ap|proves her selfe one of the profitablest members in a Common-wealth to Physicians and Chyrurgi|ans:) having (I say) passed all these degrees with much perill and jeopardie of her body,* then looke higher and thinke but on the shipwracke of her soule, (an adventure of a greater price then shee is aware of;) then towards the declining of her life, and that her beautie fades, What a deale of charge is shee at with sophisticated Art, White and Red, to emplayster decayed Nature? Her humilitie being such, that when her owne head is bald, shee will weare the cast haire of any hee for shee sinner, that made a voyage in a string from Tyburne, to either Heaven or Hell. And lastly, when as Art can no longer hide the sorrowed or wrinkled deformities of her over-worne Age; then (like a true wel-willer to the old trade shee hath ever followed,) Whoring having left her very unkindly before shee was vvilling to leave it: shee, (as her proper right for her long service) takes upon her the office and authority of a Bawd, and as shee was brought up her selfe, so with mo|therly Care her Imployment is to bring up o|thers, wherein her paines is not small, in hyring Countrey wenches, that come up weekely with Carryers, and putting them in Fashion, selling one Maydenhead three or foure hundred times, and sometimes with great labour and difficulty shee’s forced to perswade mens wiues and daugh|ters; all which considered, a Bawd doth not get her living with so great ease as the world sup|poseth; nor is her adventure, paines, charge and perill to be inconsiderately slighted.

In a quite broad and general way, it would seem Taylor could easily apply much of this description to a courtier holding a public office. The bawd passes her time in instruction during her youth, then moves on to serving the “common cause” in the face of the whims of “Authoritie,” which I would argue we can take as vaguely standing in for the monarch. After having suffered such grueling educatory exercises and complete disdain, the bawd seems to be unable to even seem useful and thus channels her energies toward profiting from the abilities (relatively speaking) of country wenches, wives, and daughters, taking up the supervisory “office and authority of a Bawd.” Interestingly, but not wholly relevant, is the reference to Tyburn in the above paragraph. I’ll have more on it in another post (I’ve committed to quite a bit of future posts over the past two weeks!), but the simple definition is that Tyburn was a town outside of London one could think of as the hanging hubbub of London proper. More than anything, though, it was a place where people went to watch executions.

Even more interesting, however, is what Taylor does with gender. Taylor styles the figure of the bawd as a kind of maternalized virago on the financial front. The virgin mother/whore dichotomy is blasted to pieces here. In the above paragraph, her progression from whoring to “motherly care,” is not prohibited by the virgin/whore dichotomy. Her illicit loss of maidenhead doesn’t prevent her from assuming a maternal role, but seems rather the natural precursor to it: the character of the bawd even suffers “paines” to fashion country wenches, wives and daughters into whores.

*ADDENDUM*

That said, I think that while Taylor breaks down the dichotomy, in this case his work is suspect to such an extent that it actually bolsters the early modern sense of motherhood as you describe it. The didactic sarcasm inherent in Taylor’s praise of the hard-working bawd, rather than breaking down the mother/whore dichotomy in a positive way, promotes the idea that for the period we’re exploring, motherhood is a shifting category: it cannot necessarily be severed from the ‘whore’ part of the equation. One can’t assume mothers CAN be valued for their purity — if there is no clear divide between virginity and whoredom as a spectrum of states of femininity, this means motherhood can be tied up with either, or both. Again, it’s that idea of women as ‘leaky vessels’ : in this case, I think what Taylor is doing here is making the case that the maternal is a muddled affair…that purity or corruption can just ‘leak’ into the bubble of time women experience as maternity. In other words, Taylor uses his sarcasm to show that a woman’s adherence even to the benevolent image of a mother (as he describes in the person of the bawd) does not preclude their being a whore; even a whore can perform the mother, essentially. I may even go so far as to say that for Taylor, the bawd’s social status is what actually motivates her maternity here, so that here even the intentions of motherhood become highly suspect. **end addendum**

On a social level, though, my conviction is that Taylor’s purpose, like mine, was to make the invisible…well, visible. Taylor valorizes the Jack-of-all-Trades, workaday masses we know so little about today, with specializations heaped upon the list of ideological structures we navigate daily. Among the skill sets that the bawd possesses are that of the scholar, arithmetician, astrologist, logician, musician, poet, painter, grocer, and the goldsmith. I don’t think Taylor is championing the individuals specializing in these areas, but of those who dabble in all of them. A champion for the self-made woman, then!

For next time, perhaps something in line with the upcoming holiday would be pertinent. Any other suggestions are always welcome. Till then, thanks for reading, and happy Renaissancing!

My biggest – and most unrealizable – wish has always been to experience Hogsmeade in wintertime for real. Sadly, I’m not on a first name basis with Professor McGonagall, so the closest I’ve gotten to experiencing it started with reading Stanley Wells’ Shakespeare & Co.

In the chapter titled The Theatrical Scene, Wells contextualizes Shakespeare and his contemporaries in terms of the theatrical scene.

There was one year, 1608, in which playgoers could have walked over the frozen river, perhaps hoping to see early performances of Coriolanus or, indeed, a revival of Hamlet. Francisco’s words in that play’s opening scene, ‘ ‘Tis bitter cold,/ And I am sick at heart,’ would have struck a special chord if the players were bold enough to brave the elements. But more probably they gave into the weather and joined the crowds skating, drinking and eating from kitchens on the ice. (Wells 7-8)

The Renaissance nerd in me got together with the Harry Potter fan in me, and decided this was definitely worth exploring.  Evidently, from sometime around the late 1500’s through 1815, the Thames froze several dozen times: enough to allow a series of chronicled frost fairs, the first – and most relevant to the purposes of this blog – of which was recorded in 1608.

News from Frost-Fair upon the river of Thames, a broadside ballad (anonymous) held in the Harvard library, bears the following subtitle: Being a Description of the Booths, Tents, Accomodations, Frollicks, Sports and Humours of those Innumerable Crowd’s of Resorters. If the subtitle alone isn’t specific enough in providing a clear picture of the frost fair, the author goes on to describe a city of tents erected out on the frozen Thames. Vendors sold hot food and liquors while fair-goers spent their time guarding against thieves and cutpurses (I’ll write more about this in a later post), bird hunting, or playing nine-pins (the early modern equivalent of bowling). John Taylor’s 1621 poem “The Colde Terme: Or the Frozen Age: Or the Metamorphosis of the River of Thames” details the merrymaking and feasting of the 1608 frost fair, citing the sale of spiced cakes, roasted pigs, beer, ale, tobaco, nuts and figs as well as games of dice, cards and pigeonhole (a kind of early modern skee-ball).

 The anonymous pamphlet, The Great Frost. Cold doings in London, except it be at the Lotterie. With Newes out of the Country. A Familiar talke between a Country-man and a Citizen touching this terrible Frost and the great Lotterie, and the effects of them, provides the most fascinating and thorough account of the fair.  I’ve trascribed some of the text from a facsimile of the printed material, also provided by Harvard library:

Both men, women, and children walked over, and up and down in such companies, that I verily believe, and I dare almost swear it, that one half (if not three parts) of the people in the City, have been seen going on the Thames. The river shows not now (neither shows it yet) like a river, but like a field where archers shoot at pricks, while others play at football. It is a place of mastery, where some waddle, and some run, and he that does best is apt to take a fall. It is an alley to walk upon without dread, albeit under it be most assured danger. The gentlewoman that trembles to pass over a bridge in the field, doth here walk boldly: the citizen’s wife that looks pale when she sits in a boat for fear of drowning, thinks that here she treads as safe now as in her parlour. Of all ages, of all sexes, of all professions this is the common path: it is the roadway between London and Westminster, and between Southwark and London…

Thirst you for Beer, Ale, wine, or victuals? There you may buy it, because you may tell an other day how you dined upon the Thames. Are you cold with going over? You shall ere you come to the midst of the river, spy some ready with pans of coal to warm your fingers. If you want fruit after you have dined, there stands Coffermongers to serve you at your call. And thus do people leave their houses and the streets, turning the goodliest river in the whole kingdom, into the broadest street to walk in. (7-8)

To my disappointment, the 1608 fair wasn’t quite as picturesque as Hogsmeade, though. The frozen Thames caused as much economic disruption as it did economic success. For watermen and merchants whose livelihood depended on a very liquid Thames, service and trade were put on hold. On the other hand, the frost fairs spurred economic prosperity by drawing large crowds to the stalls merchants had set up on the river, in place of the landed stalls left deserted because of the river.

Title page of The Great Frost pamphlet

Title page of "The Great Frost" pamphlet

More importantly, frost fairs did an interesting thing: they turned socio-economic hierarchy topsy-turvy, if only for a time. Social hierarchy was a mainstay in the structure of Elizabethan society, and a disruption of this structure would have been highly threatening and unsettling for Londoners. Tight niches allowed Londoners to be both mastered by superiors and master over others in a meticulous and quite rigid structure that did not encourage social mobility. The frost fair, on the other hand, created a space that created a cross-section of Londoners in terms of class. In addition to the socio-economic atmosphere, the frost fair also created a geographical cross section: the frozen Thames would have connected London proper, associated with uprightness, the law, and the Queen with shady Southwark, known for bear-baiting, play-going, brothels, gambling and thieving.

All in all, the frost fair was quite an affair. Aside from the novelty of merry-making upon the ice, it was also a space where social, economic, and geographical boundaries were questioned and ideology challenged. The frost fair became, according to the anonymous author of The Great Frost, a spatial construction accessible to multiple social classes. More so, the frost fair became a place where mingling whores and gentlewomen, earls and cutpurses, players and court clerics became acceptable. What would have been quite threatening for Londoners, then, was the thought that such mingling could fail to be contained by the frost fair, and extrend to everyday life. But for the fair, hierarchy was turned on her head, propriety’s running mouth stopped up, and merry-making had for all, at least for a price.

Not quite Hogsmeade, then, but a definite occasion to let loose.

I’ll have a forthcoming post on something of interest soon, but until then thanks for stopping by and happy Renaissancing!

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