In Mary Queen’s article “Genders and Authors,” she discusses
how the masculinized notions of publishing and authorship affected women in the
early nineteenth century to the extent that they had to use male pen names “in
order to authorize themselves into being.” In other words “women often had to
become complicit” in their own denial of being an “authority.” Since I had
taken Dr. Miriam Mara’s British fiction class last spring, this section of the
reading resonated with me.
In her class, she assigned George Eliot’s “A Mill on the
Floss.” At the time I had neither read nor knew anything of the work of Eliot,
and so was shocked to learn that Eliot was the pen name for a woman named Mary
Anne (or Mary Ann, or sometimes Marian) Evans. Needless to say, this revelation
changed the way I felt about the book. Once I knew the truth, I recall feeling
like Evans had had an opportunity to showcase women differently, and in a way
other than what the strict (read: repressed) Victorian attitudes suggested were
socially acceptable, but squandered that chance. I felt a queer sense of
betrayal; the women publishing at the time were trailblazing, being subversive,
and I couldn’t (and truthfully still cant) why they didn’t push the boundaries
with their characterizations of women. True, the Victorians weren’t going to
publish anything with even a whiff of scandalous behavior, and I suppose I
really can’t judge since I wasn’t there, but that still rankles to this day.
The in class discussion led to my questioning why they (the
publishers) were still using her male pen name instead of her given female
name. There are many cases, i.e. the Bronte sisters, where previous male pen
names have been replaced by the correct female author’s name. But that was
apparently not the case with Evans, as her true name appeared nowhere on my
copy, or any other student’s copy, of the text. Dr. Mara suggested that perhaps
it had to do with the slight mystery of her true name, or at least the spelling
of her true name, as mentioned above. I remember googling it when I got home,
thinking I would find an answer fairly quickly, but it didn’t work out that
way. It’s still a mystery, especially since she has been dead long enough for
aspects of copyright with regards to author name to have lapsed. Conundrum.
Now, having read Queen’s article and having done some
reflection on my thoughts from Dr. Mara’s class, its possible Evans, despite
being both motivated or passionate about writing to dedicate herself to it and
being a good enough writer to be published, still clung to the ideals of her
time, backwards though they are.
1 comment:
I think it may be important to remember that we have the distinct benefit of hindsight and are indebted to multiple generations of thinkers who opened things for women. It's very hard to have a vision of a world unlike one's own. So, that she could envision herself as an author, that she could envision hiding her gender as a strategy to get published suggests she was, in fact, highly radical, one of few. As readers, we get frustrated that people before us couldn't see things as we do, but we can only see what we see because we're standing on their shoulders.
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