UBC Theses and Dissertations

UBC Theses Logo

UBC Theses and Dissertations

"Now look, the picture shows" : the visualization of disordered eating in Victorian children’s literature Brocklebank, Lisa 2001

Your browser doesn't seem to have a PDF viewer, please download the PDF to view this item.

Item Metadata

Download

Media
831-ubc_2001-0333_fixed.pdf [ 25.85MB ]
Metadata
JSON: 831-1.0090434.json
JSON-LD: 831-1.0090434-ld.json
RDF/XML (Pretty): 831-1.0090434-rdf.xml
RDF/JSON: 831-1.0090434-rdf.json
Turtle: 831-1.0090434-turtle.txt
N-Triples: 831-1.0090434-rdf-ntriples.txt
Original Record: 831-1.0090434-source.json
Full Text
831-1.0090434-fulltext.txt
Citation
831-1.0090434.ris

Full Text

"Now look, the picture shows": The Visualization of Disordered Eating in Victorian Children's Literature by Lisa Brocklebank  B.A. Hons. The University of British Columbia, 1999  A thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Arts in The Faculty of Graduate Studies Department of English  We accept this thesis as conforming to the required standard  THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA August, 2001  copyright Lisa Brocklebank, 2001  Ub(J Special Collections - Thesis Authorisation Form  Page 1 of 1  In presenting this .thesis in partial .inliilment .of the ..xequixements for an advanced degree at the University of British Columbia, I agree that—the Libxax-y ..sha] 1 makp-J-i-freeJ-y available—fox-xefer-ence and study. I further agree that permission for extensive copying of this thesis _fox ,sr±iolarly._paixposes _jmay...be„gxant£d by. the-head -oJLjny department or by his or her representatives. It is understood that copying ox-p-ubli ration .-of—this. fhp,si.s..,£ox-f i nanr.ial gai h.-,sha] 3-nox. be allowed without my written permission.  Department—of  £?*#/&£  The U n i v e r s i t y of B r i t i s h -Col umbia Vancouver, Canada  nup://www.iiurary^ui)c.ca/spcoiyuiesauiii.niHu  i //u//ui  j  11  Abstract This thesis explores the myriad ways in which the apparently unrelated discourses of medicine, fiction and photography intertwine in the depiction of disordered eating. It examines the medical literature of the physician William Withey Gull, who first diagnosed anorexia nervosa as a discrete disease in 1874, alongside select works of Victorian children's fiction. In analysing Gull's "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)" (1874) and "Anorexia Nervosa" (1888), Mary De Morgan's "A Toy Princess" (1877), Dr. Heinrich Hoffmann's "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup" (1845), Christina Rossetti's "Goblin Market" (1862) and Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (1865), the thesis considers how these texts make use of a photographic sensibility to visualize the oral consumer, the extent to which Gull's medical documents could have been influenced by previous fictional depictions of disordered eating and, finally, how a visual order informed by the photographic image in fact provided the necessary milieu for the emergence of modern forms of disordered eating.  TABLE OF CONTENTS Abstract  ii  Table of Contents  iii  List of Illustrations  iv  Introduction  1  Chapter One: Methodological Framework  15  Chapter Two: Photography and Victorian Visuality  27  Chapter Three: The Cultural Significance of Oral Consumption and Disordered Eating in the Victorian Period  48  Chapter Four: William Gull's "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)" and the Politics of Health  69  Chapter Five: The Visualization of Anorexia Nervosa in Mary De Morgan's "A Toy Princess"  87  Chapter Six: "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup": A Literary (Sub)Version of the Medical Construction of Anorexia Nervosa  109  Chapter Seven: "Taste Them and Try": Oral Consumption and Commodity Culture in Christina Rossetti's "Goblin Market"  127  Chapter Eight: "She Was Now the Right Size": Verbal/Visual Depictions Of Oral Consumption in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland  159  Conclusion  190  Works Cited  197  Illustrations  208  IV  Illustrations Figure 1 Oscar GustaveRej lander. Study of a Young Lady. ca. 1860-1865. Early Photography. By Patrick Daniels. London: Academy Editions, 1978. 52. p. 208 Figure 2 MX. Prompt (Albi). Family portrait, carte-de-visite. ca. 1865. A.A.E. Disderi and the Carte-de-Visite Portrait Photograph. By Elizabeth Anne McCauley. New Haven: Yale U.P., 1985. Plate 108. p. 208 Figure 3 H. Kisch. African Man. ca. 1875. The Album of Carte-de-Visite Cabinet Portrait Photographs 1854-1914. By Oliver Matthews. London: Reedminster Publications, Ltd., 1974. Plate 120. p. 209 Figure 4 Thomas Nixon. Chimney Sweep, ca. 1875. The Album of Carte-de-Visite Cabinet Portrait Photographs 1854-1914. By Oliver Matthews. London: Reedminster Publications, Ltd., 1974. Plate 128. p. 209 Figure 5 R.T. Sperry. An Unwilling Subject. Photographing a Prisoner for the Rogue's Gallery at Police Headquarters. 1892. Darkness and Daylight, or Light and Shadows of New York Life. Illustrated By Over 250 Engravings From Photographs. By Helen Campbell. Hartford, Connecticut: A.D. Worthington and Co., 1900. 691. p. 210 Figure 6 Photograph of Edward Wood, aged fourteen, before and after admission to Thomas Barnardo's Home for Destitute Lads. 1873. Barnardo. By Gillian Wagner. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1979. Plate 7. p. 211 Figure 7 Two carte-de-visites from a series published by Dr. Barnardo's East End Juvenile Mission, ca. 1874. Victorian Photography. By B.E.C. Howarth-Loomes. N.Y.: St. Martin's Press, 1974. 85. p. 211 Figure 8 Dr. Hugh Welch Diamond. Puerperal Mania in Four Stages. 1858. Case Studies from the Physiognomy of Insanity. By John Conolly. Plate 14. The Face of Madness: Hugh W. Diamond and the Origin of Psychiatric Photography. Ed. Sander L. Gilman. N.Y.: Brunner/Mazel, Publishers, 1976. p. 212 Figure 9 Ann Moore, of Tutbury Staffordshire. Born 1761. Who has lived without Food, since July 17. 1807. 1811. A Faithful Relation of Ann Moore ofTutbury, Staffordshire, Who For Nearly Four Years, Has, and Still Continues, To Live without any Kind of Food, to Which are Added, Reflections and Observations. 4th ed. Birmingham: R. Peart and Co., 1811. p. 212 Figure 10 Apple Sauce, For my Valentine, n.d.. The Scrap Album: Victorian Greeting Cards, Valentines and Scraps. Online, http://www.scrapalbum.com/vxhome.htm. p. 213 Figure 11 Christmas Card. n.d. The Scrap Album: Victorian Greeting Cards, Valentines and Scraps. Online, http://www.scrapalbum.com/vxhome.htm. p. 213 Figure 12 Miss A., No. 1 and Miss A., No. 2. William Gull. "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)." Transactions of the Clinical Society of London 7 (1874). 2228. 22. p. 214  V  Figure 13 Miss B., No. 1 and Miss B., No. 2. William Gull. "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)." Transactions of the Clinical Society of London 1 (1874). 2228. 24. p. 214 Figure 14 Miss C, No. 1 and Miss C, No. 2. William Gull. "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)." Transactions of the Clinical Society of London 7 (1874). 2228. 26. p. 215 Figure 15 Miss K.R., Photographed April 21st, 1887 and Photographed June 14th, 1887. William Gull. "Anorexia Nervosa." The Lancet. March 17, 1888: 516-517. p. 216 Figure 16 Miss K.R., Photographed April 21s', 1887 and Photographed June 14th, 1887. William Gull. Transactions of the Clinical Society of London 7 (1874). A Collection of the Published Writings of William Withey Gull. Ed. Theodor Acland. Vol.1. London: The New Sydenham Society, 1894. 305-314. 312-313. p. 216 Figure 17 p. 217  The Two Ideals. Punch, or The London Charivari. September 13, 1879. 120.  Figure 18 John Robert Parsons. Photographs of Jane Morris. 1865. Jane Morris: the PreRaphaelite Model of Beauty. By Debra N. Mancoff. Essex: Pomegranate, 2000. Plates 14-15. p. 217 Figure 19 William De Morgan. The Alchemist's Daughter, ca. 1870s. William de Morgan and His Wife. By A.M. W. Stirling. London: Thornton, Butterworth Limited, 1922. 85. p. 218 Figure 20 William De Morgan. The Toy Princess. 1877. "A Toy Princess." On a Pincushion and Other Fairy Tales. By Mary De Morgan. Illus. William De Morgan. 1877. N.Y.: Garland Publishers, 1977. 153-176. p. 218 Figure 21 Dr. Heinrich Hoffmann. "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup." The English Struwwelpeter or Pretty Stories and Funny Pictures. 1845. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1952. 17. p. 219 Figure 22 William Holman Hunt. The Lady of Shalott. 1857. Alfred Tennyson. Poems by Alfred Tennyson, D.C.L. London: Edward Moxon, 1857. Online. The Camelot Project. http://www. lib, rochester. edu/camelot/images/whhshalt. htm, p. 220 Figure 23 David Octavius Hill and Robert Adamson. TheGowan. ca. 1843-1847. An Early Victorian Album: The Photographic Masterpieces (1843-1847) of David Octavius Hill and Robert Adamson. Ed. Colin Ford. N.Y.: Alfred A. Knopf, 1976. 263. p. 221 Figure 24 David Octavius Hill and Robert Adamson. Sleeping Child-Miss Bell. ca. 18431847. An Early Victorian Album: The Photographic Masterpieces (1843-1847) of David Octavius Hill and Robert Adamson. Ed. Colin Ford. N.Y.: Alfred A. Knopf, 1976. 285. p. 221 Figure 25 Charles Dodgson. Irene MacDonald. 1863. Lewis Carroll, Photographer. By Helmut Gernsheim. Rev. ed. N.Y.: Dover, 1969. Plate 17. p. 222  VI  Figure 26 Charles Dodgson. Alice P. Liddell (asleep), n.d. Lewis Carroll Album II. 37. Online. Princeton University Library, Department of Rare Books and Special Collections. Lewis Carroll Album, http://libserv3.princeton.edu/rbsc2/portfolio/portfolio.html. p. 222 Figure 27 Charles Dodgson. Alice Margaret Harington {on sofa), n.d. Lewis Carroll Album II. 67. Online. Princeton University Library, Department of Rare Books and Special Collections. Lewis Carroll Album, http://libserv3.princeton.edu/rbsc2/portfolio/portfolio.html. p. 223 Figure 28 Charles Dodgson. Mary Josephine MacDonald. n.d. Lewis Carroll Album II. 71. Online. Princeton University Library, Department of Rare Books and Special Collections. Lewis Carroll Album, http://libserv3.princeton.edu/rbsc2/portfo1io/portfolio.html. p. 223 Figure 29 Charles Dodgson. Where Dreadful Fancies Dwell, n.d. Lewis Carroll Loose Photos. Online. Princeton University Library, Department of Rare Books and Special Collections. Lewis Carroll Album, http://libserv3.princeton.edu/rbsc2/portfolio/portfolio.html. p. 224 Figure 30 Henry Peach Robinson. Sleep. 1865. Literature and Photography: Interactions, 1840-1990. Ed. JaneRabb. Albuquerque: U of New Mexico P, 1995. Plate 25. p. 224 Figure 31 Dante Gabriel Rossetti. The Lady ofShalott. 1857. Alfred Tennyson. Poems by Alfred Tennyson, D.CL. London: Edward Moxon, 1857. Online. The Camelot Project. http://www.lib.rochester.edu/camelot/images/dgrshalt.htm, p. 225 Figure 32 Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Hermia and Helena ('So we grew together, like to a double cherry, seeming parted'), ca. 1846. Pen and ink illustration to A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act III, sc.ii. The Paintings and Drawings of Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-1882), a Catalogue Raisonne. Ed. Virginia Surtees. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1971. Plate 12. p. 225 Figure 33 Dante Gabriel Rossetti. The Sleeper, ca. 1846-1847. Pen and ink illustration to E.A. Poe's "The Sleeper." The Paintings and Drawings of Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-1882), a Catalogue Raisonne. Ed. Virginia Surtees. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1971. Plate 15. p. 226 Figure 34 Dante Gabriel Rossetti. "Golden head by golden head." Title page design for Goblin Market and Other Poems. By Christina Rossetti. London: Macmillan, 1862. p. 226 Figure 35 Miss Bompas being served tea in a studio set in Montreal. 1888. Time in a Frame: Photography and the Nineteenth Century Mind. By Alan Thomas. N.Y.: Shocken Books, 1977. 79. p. 227 Figure 36 John Tenniel. "Alice in train." Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There. By Lewis Carroll. 1865 and 1872. Ed. Roger Lancelyn Green. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971. 150. p. 227 Figure 37 Arthur B. Frost. Next to Him the Eldest Daughter. "Hiawatha's Photographing." Rhyme? And Reason? Illus. Arthur B. Frost. 1887. London: Macmillan, 1898. 66-77. 73. p. 228  Vll  Figure 38 Arthur B. Frost. Last, the Youngest Son Was Taken. "Hiawatha's Photographing." Rhyme? And Reason? Illus. Arthur B. Frost. 1887. London: Macmillan, 1898. 66-77. 75. p. 228 Figure 39 Charles Dodgson. Tea-merchant (on duty). ca. 1873. Lewis Carroll and the Kitchins: Containing Twenty-Five Letters Not Previously Published and Seventeen of his Photographs. Ed. Morton N. Cohen. N.Y.: Argosy Book Store, 1980. 9. p. 229 Figure 40 Charles Dodgson. Tea-merchant (offduty), ca. 1873. Lewis Carroll and the Kitchins: Containing Twenty-Five Letters Not Previously Published and Seventeen of his Photographs. Ed. Morton N. Cohen. NY.: Argosy Book Store, 1980. 10. p. 229 Figure 41 Charles Dodgson. Liddells in Chinese Dress, n.d. Lewis Carroll Album III. 21. Online. Princeton University Library, Department of Rare Books and Special Collections. Lewis Carroll Album, http://libserv3.princeton.edu/rbsc2/portfolio/portfolio.html. p. 230 Figure 42 Charles Dodgson. The Beggar-Maid. ca. late 1850s. Lewis Carroll Album II. 67. Online. Princeton University Library, Department of Rare Books and Special Collections. Lewis Carroll Album, http://libserv3.princeton.edu/rbsc2/portfolio/portfolio.html. p. 230 Figure 43 Charles Dodgson. Coates. ca. 1857. Lewis Carroll, Photographer. Ed. Helmut Gernsheim. Rev. ed. N.Y.: Dover, 1969. Plate 4. p. 231 Figure 44 Oscar GustaveRejlander. Study After Titian, ca 1857. The Formative Decades: Photography in Great Britain, 1839-1920. By Roy Flukinger. Texas: U of Texas P, 1985. 61. p. 231 Figure 45 Charles Dodgson. Beatrice Hatch. 1873. Lewis Carroll's Photographs of Nude Children. Ed. Morton N. Cohen. Philadelphia: The Philip H. and A.S.W. Rosenbach Foundation, 1978. Plate 1. p. 232 Figure 46 Charles Dodgson. Evelyn Hatch. 1879. Lewis Carroll's Photographs of Nude Children. Ed. Morton N. Cohen. Philadelphia: The Philip H. and A.S.W. Rosenbach Foundation, 1978. Plate 2. p. 232 Figure 47 Charles Dodgson. Evelyn Hatch. 1879. Lewis Carroll's Photographs of Nude Children. Ed. Morton N. Cohen. Philadelphia: The Philip H. and A.S.W. Rosenbach Foundation, 1978. Plate 3. p. 232 Figure 48 Charles Dodgson. Annie and Frances Henderson, n.d. Lewis Carroll's Photographs of Nude Children. Ed. Morton N. Cohen. Philadelphia: The Philip H. and A.S.W. Rosenbach Foundation, 1978. Plate 4. p. 233 Figure 49 Frederic Leighton. Actea, Nymph of the Shore, ca. 1868. The Victorian Nude: Sexuality, Morality and Art. By Alison Smith. Manchester: Manchester UP, 1996. Plate 32. p. 234  Vlll  Figure 50 Lewis Carroll. Good-bye feet! Alice's Adventures Under Ground. By Lewis Carroll. 1864. Facsimile edition. London: Pavilion Books, 1985. n.p. p. 234 Figure 51 Lewis Carroll. Drink Me. Alice's Adventures Under Ground. 1864. Facsimile edition. London: Pavilion Books, 1985. n.p. p. 235 Figure 52 Lewis Carroll. She went on growing and growing. Alice's Adventures Under Ground. By Lewis Carroll. 1864. Facsimile edition. London: Pavilion Books, 1985. n.p. p. 235 Figure 53 Lewis Carroll. Still she went on growing. Alice's Adventures Under Ground. By Lewis Carroll. 1864. Facsimile edition. London: Pavilion Books, 1985. n.p. p. 236 Figure 54 Lewis Carroll. She put one arm out of the window. Alice's Adventures Under Ground. By Lewis Carroll. 1864. Facsimile edition. London: Pavilion Books, 1985. n.p. p. 236 Figure 55 John Tenniel. Good-bye feet! Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There. By Lewis Carroll. 1865 and 1872. Ed. Roger Lancelyn Green. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971. 16. p. 237 Figure 56 John Tenniel. Still she went on growing. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There. By Lewis Carroll. 1865 and 1872. Ed. Roger Lancelyn Green. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971. 33. p. 237 Figure 57 John Tenniel. She put one arm out of the window. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There. By Lewis Carroll. 1865 and 1872. Ed. Roger Lancelyn Green. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971. 34. p. 237  1  Introduction On March 17th, 1888, Dr. William Withey Gull - physician in ordinary to Queen Victoria and specialist in the newly diagnosed disease of anorexia nervosa - published, as his last contribution to clinical medicine, an article entitled "Anorexia Nervosa."1 Gull included two woodcut illustrations based on photographs taken of his patient at the nadir of her illness and fully recuperated. In justifying his inclusion of the visual evidence to support his verbal depiction, Gull stated: The case was so extreme that, had it not been photographed and accurately engraved, some assurance would have been necessary that the appearances were not exaggerated, or even caricatured, which they were not.2 He admited that without photographic evidence this "story" of anorexia nervosa would seem incredible. This particular case study serves as a locus for the convergence of various apparently discrete but, as this thesis will argue, fundamentally intertwined discursive strands - specifically, those of photography, medicine and fiction. The document's use of photography as a means of proving "reality" and giving its readers/viewers access to that "reality" demonstrates a reliance upon photography as the predominant mode of visualizing and conceptualizing the world and its inhabitants. Yet Gull's need to assure his readers that the woodcut is an accurate engraving and that appearances were not exaggerated suggests that these photographic representations were perhaps more fictional constructions than factual records. Moreover, the appellation of his scientific document "this story" inadvertently reveals the fictional and constructed aspect of medical documents. Indeed, these documents are a genre of literature, and medicine a form of narrative. As Sally Shuttleworth points out, during the nineteenth century, medical disciplines not only influenced, but were influenced by, works of literature: 1 2  William Gull, "Anorexia Nervosa," The Lancet, March 17, 1888, 516-517. Ibid., 516.  2  Psychiatry was just beginning to emerge as a science, [and] in turn, had not yet covered over its links with literature, or obscured its ideological assumptions under a cloak of specialized language. Could William Gull's narrative have been shaped and influenced by previous "stories" and fictional accounts of disordered eating? To what extent are both discourses informed by contemporary social currents and ideologies? How does fictional literature portray instances of abnormal oral consumption? In what ways do these accounts make use of a photographic sensibility to visualize the oral consumer? How, moreover, might a visual order informed by the photographic image in fact provide the necessary milieu for the emergence of modern forms of disordered eating? These are some of the questions this thesis will address. In the remainder of the introduction, I will sketch out the various cultural, scientific and artistic discourses that inform and enable the emergence and representation of disordered eating. I will then provide an outline of the scope and content of the thesis, briefly delineating the contents of each chapter. Between the years 1730 and 1790, the first drawings of female skeletons appeared in England, France and Germany. The German anatomist Samuel Thomas von Soemmerring based his 1796 drawings of the female skeleton on the classical statues of the Venus de Medici and Venus of Dresden. Anatomists such as Soemmering self-consciously followed the example of painters who, in their own illustrations of the female body, mended the irregularities and blemishes of their models. Just as artistic paintings were infused with cultural values, so were these supposedly objective scientific illustrations. And, just as painters mended flawed reality to fit their ideals, so did anatomists, through their illustrations of the female skeleton, seek to mend nature to fit emerging cultural ideals of masculinity and femininity. This attempt on the part of  3 4  Ibid, 517. Sally Shuttleworth, Charlotte Bronte and Victorian Psychology (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1996) 13.  anatomists to discover a physiological basis for female inequality was a direct response to eighteenth century movements for women's equality.5 The concentration of scientific research on the "nature" of women begun during the eighteenth century continued into the nineteenth century as science increasingly served as an arbiter of social issues. In 1844, a London anatomical show displayed a wax female anatomical model with a removable front torso. Such wax figures were modeled on artistic representations such as the Venus, and were molded in recumbent, sexually provocative postures, complete with flowing hair, necklaces and other fetishistic adornments.6 By attending these anatomical shows, members of the public could obtain access to sights previously limited to the physician. Thus, these anatomical displays not only confounded the boundaries between science and art, but also transformed previously esoteric scientific knowledge into a readable, popular narrative. Increasingly, physicians and psychiatrists read the body as a narrative text to be interpreted and deciphered. "Every face of man or woman," wrote John Conolly, psychiatrist and asylum reformer, "becomes more and more a book in which the life and thoughts are written in hieroglyphics, to be deciphered by those who have acquired skill in such reading."8 The physician deciphered the text of the body and, through his interpretation, translated it into a story accessible to those without the necessary skills in reading. Thus, there existed a distinctly narrative component to the interpretation and representation of illness and the diseased body. The body relied upon a reading audience in order to determine and complete its meaning. Significantly, anatomical displays took place in theatres crowded with eager spectators who reacted to the "show" with a telling mixture of  5  Londa Schiebinger, "Skeletons in the Closet: The First Illustrations of the Female Skeleton in Eighteenth-Century Anatomy," The Making of the Modern Body: Sexuality and Society in the Nineteenth Century, ed. Catherine Gallagher and Thomas Laqueur (Berkeley: U of California P, 1987) 42-83. 6 Alison Smith, The Victorian Nude: Sexuality, Morality and Art (Manchester: Manchester UP, 1996) 50. 7 Kate Flint, The Victorians and the Visual Imagination (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2000)93. 8 John Conolly, "The Physiognomy of Insanity," The Journal of Mental Science 6.31 (October 1859), quoted in Chris Wiesenthal, Figuring Madness in Nineteenth-Century Fiction (London: Macmillan, 1997) 4.  4  curious fascination and disgusted repulsion.9 This medical spectacle was not limited to the anatomical shows of London. The public performance of neurologist Jean-Martin Charcot's hysterics at the Salpetriere in Paris, for example, also confounded the boundaries between medicine and theatre. Charcot's lectures would fill the amphitheatre not only with fellow practitioners and medical students, but also with a crowd of curiosity seekers comprising authors, journalists, actors and fashionable demimondaines.10 This (re)presentation and performance of illness - in particular, women's illness - transcended the confines of Charcot's lecture theatre. Indeed, the medical construction of bodies was highly performative. For the physician, diagnosing an illness was an act of bringing into being that which he named. The Victorian body - especially the woman's body - was a culturally mediated text, discursively constructed through medical theory and artistic and literary imaginings. This "text" was infused with ideological signification and often served either to reinforce or to challenge gender norms. This displaying and reading of the body relied on new techniques of observation and on the use of instruments "which aid[ed] the senses, such as the microscope, the thermometer and the sphygmograph" and, I would argue, the camera.'' Although physicians utilized optic instruments, they also placed importance on training the unassisted eye. While he believed in the objectivity of new technologies of observation and representation, William Gull, for example, also stressed the necessity of developing the unaided senses. In a lecture at Guy's Hospital, London, Gull instructed medical students on the invaluability of honing their optic power and visual sensibility into precise instruments of observation and dissection: You will naturally avail yourself of these and of all such other means as may further exact observation; at the same time, do not fail to educate the unaided senses... see all you 19  can by the unassisted eye or the common lens... 9  Smith, 50. Elaine Showalter, The Female Malady: Women, Madness and English Culture, J 830-1980 (NY.: Pantheon Books, 1985) 148. 11 Gull, "On the Study of Medicine, An Address Delivered at Guy's Hospital, October 1874," reprinted from The British Medical Journal, vol. 2, 1874, 425, in Theodor Acland, vol. 2, 122. 12 Ibid. 10  5  However, as Kate Flint points out, while fascinated by the operations of the eye and by the availability of tools to aid the senses, physicians and scientists were also aware of the subjectivity and limitations of observation.13 Gull, for one, admitted that medical experience is "limited by the prejudice, or interest, or incapacity of the observer."14 This simultaneous reliance on, and questioning of, new technologies of vision, in addition to the increasingly blurred boundaries between "fact" and "fiction," pervaded literary and artistic as well as medical representations. In her book Fiction in the Age of Photography: The Legacy of British Realism, Nancy Armstrong contends that the development of photography privileged specific ways of seeing and that, beginning in the mid 1850s, the Victorian reading public "knew" the material world around them chiefly through images. Fiction at once "foresaw and emulated" the use of photography to record and classify the world and its inhabitants. As a result, works of literature often made use of a photographic sensibility in order to establish a correspondence between the "fictional" and the "real" world.15 As critics have noted, Charles Dickens' Bleak House (1853) displays just such a photographic mentality. The characters in the novel derive their identity from their differential positions within an image-based classificatory system. In this vein, for example, Lady Dedlock possesses the type of physiognomy with which the novel's reader would be familiar from their exposure to the images of art-photographers such as Julia Margaret Cameron.16 In the person of Mr. Bucket - the detective who scrutinizes the object of his interrogation "as if he were going to  13  Flint, 30. William Gull, "Address as President of the Clinical Society" (1871), in Acland, vol. 2, 83. 15 Nancy Armstrong, Fiction in the Age of Photography: The Legacy of British Realism (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard UP, 1999) 5-6. 16 Ibid.,148. 14  6  take his portrait"17 - photography is represented not only as an instrument for artistic and scientific representation, but also as a tool of surveillance and control.18 If the post-photographic Bleak House incorporates a photographic sensibility, I would argue that the pre-photographic Pickwick Papers (1837) also makes use of distinctly photographic techniques of identification and surveillance. Mr. Pickwick, upon being admitted to the Fleet, must undergo the process of "sitting for [his] portrait."19 This process of "having his likeness taken" involves the inmate's being subject to the scrutiny of several different jailers in order that the jailkeepers can differentiate the prisoner from visitors to the Fleet.  Accordingly,  Mr. Pickwick, subjected to the monitoring and classifying gaze of the guards, becomes the object of what Michel Foucault terms a panoptic surveillance, or "multiple and intersecting observations":21 Mr. Pickwick was aware that his sitting had commenced. The stout turnkey having been relieved from the lock, sat down, and looked at him carelessly from time to time, while a long thin man who had relieved him thrust his hands beneath his coat tails, and planting himself opposite, took a good long view of him. A third rather surly-looking gentleman, who had apparently been disturbed at his tea, for he was disposing of the last remnant of a crust and butter when he came in, stationed himself close to Mr. Pickwick; and, resting his hands on his hips, inspected him narrowly, while two others mixed with the group, and studied his features with most intent and thoughtful faces. Mr. Pickwick winced a good deal under the operation, and appeared to sit very uneasily in his chair... This scenario of surveillance and portrait-taking prefigures the use of photography in criminological practices. The police only began to employ civilian photographers from 1841 onwards.23 In providing an exact copy that could be both archived and circulated, photography enabled the police forces to classify and distinguish criminals and to render them easily 17  Charles Dickens, Bleak House, 1853, ed. George Ford and Sylvere Monod (N.Y.: Norton, 1977) 275. Ronald R. Thomas, "Making Darkness Visible: Capturing the Criminal and Observing the Law in Victorian Detective Fiction," in Victorian Literature and the Victorian Visual Imagination, ed. Carol T. Christ and John 0. Jordan (Berkeley: U of California P, 1995) 138-139. 19 Charles Dickens, The Pickwick Papers, 1837, ed. James Kincaid (Oxford: Oxford UP, 1998) 512. 20 Ibid. 21 Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison, transl. Alan Sheridan (N.Y.: Vintage Books, 1977) 171. 22 Dickens, The Pickwick Papers, 512. 18  7  recognizable, just as "having his likeness taken" facilitates the identification of Mr. Pickwick. However, when confronted by the photographer's lens, criminals would often distort their facial expressions in the attempt to render their physiognomies, and thus their photographs, unidentifiable.24 Similarly, the "criminal" Job Trotter contorts his face in the attempt to evade detection by concealing his identity from the scrutinizing Sam Weller: The most extraordinary thing about the man [Trotter] was, that he was contorting his face into the most fearful and astonishing grimaces that ever were beheld. Nature's handywork never was disguised with such extraordinary artificial carving, as the man had overlaid his countenance with, in one moment. "Well," - said Mr. Weller to himself, as the man approached. "This is wery odd. I could ha' swore it was him." Up came the man, and his face became more frightfully distorted than ever, as he drew nearer. "I could take my oath to that 'ere black hair, and mulberry suit," said Mr. Weller; "only I never see such a face as that, afore." As Mr. Weller said this, the man's features assumed an unearthly twinge, perfectly hideous. He was obliged to pass very near Sam however, and the scrutinising glance of that gentleman enabled him to detect, under all these appalling twists of feature, something too like the small eyes of Mr. Job Trotter to be easily mistaken.25 Significantly, the above fictional passages refer to practices that would only later come into use with the discovery of photography. In this case, then, fiction prefigures "fact" and literature "reality." Thus, even before the advent of photography, fiction increasingly came to rely on visual details to refer to "reality"; visual representation, in turn, claimed to provide direct access to the "truth." However, just as scientific discourse questioned its own reliance on the visual, so the literary and artistic discourse was riddled with anxiety over the adequacy of representation and the sufficiency of vision as grounds for knowledge. The novelist George Eliot, for example, expressed concern not only about the inability of Art to imitate Life, but also about the inability of the public - habituated as it was to looking at images and at the world as image - to  John Tagg, The Burden of Representation: Essays on Photographies and Histories (Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1993) 73. 24 Tom Gunning, "Tracing the Individual Body: Photography, Detectives, and Early Cinema," in Cinema and the Invention of Modern Life, ed. Leo Charney and Vanessa R. Schwartz (Berkeley: U of California P, 1995) 27-28. 25 Dickens, Pickwick Papers, 285.  8  accurately perceive "reality," in particular the plight of the labouring classes. The narrator of Adam Bede voices Eliot's concerns: The bucolic character at Hayslope, you perceive, was not of that entirely genial, merry, broad-grinning sort, apparently observed in most districts visited by artists. The mild radiance of a smile was a rare sight on a field-labourer's face, and there was seldom any gradation between bovine gravity and a laugh. Even as the ability of the image to reflect reality accurately came into question, Victorian reality was infused with and delineated by an inundation of images. Victorian society became increasingly defined by, and obsessed with, a visual order comprised of the dual regimes of surveillance and the spectacle. The observing and classifying lens of the microscope and camera that captured and defined operated alongside the panoramic vistas provided by the railway, and the equally spectacular proliferation of exotic and luxury images displayed in department store and museum exhibits. Once again, the narrator of Adam Bede reflects on the state of a society in which existence is shaped and propelled by the dominance of the visual and the representative: Leisure is gone - gone where the spinning-wheels are gone, and the pack-horses, and the slow waggons, and the pedlars who brought bargains to the door on sunny afternoons. Ingenious philosophers tell you, perhaps, that the great work of the steam-engine is to create leisure for mankind. Do not believe them: it only creates a vacuum for eager thought to rush in. Even idleness is eager now - eager for amusement: prone to excursion trains, art-museums, periodical literature, and exciting novels: prone even to scientific theorising, and cursory peeps through the microscopes.27 While the body became invested in the visual order and derived its signification from how it was visually interpreted and classified, at the same time there existed the fear that the body could elude control and categorization. As a result it had to be constantly monitored and controlled - constantly fashioned and re-fashioned - so as to ensure that the correct signification was encoded on its surface and displayed through its gestures. As identity became predicated on an/other's gaze, knowledge of, and control over, the self could only be achieved by a distancing  George Eliot, Adam Bede, 1859, ed. Stephen Gill (London: Penguin Classics, 1985) 518. Ibid., 516.  9  from the self- a viewing of the self through the eyes of others.  What is the relationship  between the Victorian visual order, the internalization of the gaze, and the rise of pathological forms of oral consumption? It seems that there exists an underlying current that informs both this manic visual consumption and disturbed forms oral consumption characterized by selfpolicing and a sense of one's own body as alien - as a disembodied image. This thesis examines how select works of children's literature incorporate themes of deranged oral consumption. As the majority of the texts were published before William Gull diagnosed anorexia nervosa as a discrete disease, this thesis looks at the ways in which fiction refers to disordered consumption, such as anorexia, before these behaviours materialized in medical literature. In so doing, it explores how both fiction and medical documents relied on photographic techniques of reading and categorizing bodies in order to render their accounts "realistic" and legible. This exploration takes into consideration how certain of these texts question the ability of images to convey reality accurately, and seek to problematize the relationship between "fact" and "fiction," original and copy. The consideration of issues of the body and representation necessitates a corresponding evaluation of questions of observation. As discussed above, representations of the body such as anatomical shows and theatrical lectures depended upon a distinctive dynamic between viewing subject and viewed object - one that involved the meaningfully ambivalent response of attraction and repulsion. In what ways do illustrated children's texts, in their depiction of oral consumption and the deviant body of the deranged consumer, similarly draw upon the anxieties and pleasures involved in looking at bodies that transgress the norm? Children's literature played a crucial part in the negotiation of social values during the mid- to late Victorian period. It served as a prominent and incisive literary and social discourse, as influential as the more canonical forms of the novel, drama or poem. Indeed, in mid28  Susan Buck-Morss, "The Flaneur, the Sandwichman and the Whore," New German Critique 39 (Fall 1986) 125.  10  nineteenth century England, the fairy tale developed into a popular and prevalent form of expression. Its sphere of influence encompassed such pertinent socio-cultural issues as proper social behaviour and comportment (for adults as well as children), and the formation and perpetuation of gender roles. Victorian writers thus utilized the genre both as a means of voicing an implicit and often explicit social critique, as well as a vehicle to instill more normative social codes of conduct. These ostensibly children's texts thus appealed to an adult as well as a child audience. The significance of representations can, however, shift both subtly and radically according to the viewing audience. This dual response elicited by representations holds particularly true for texts perused by both child and adult readers. A passage from George Eliot's The Mill on the Floss illustrates how the meaning of a text mutates according to its reader. Mr. Riley, on perceiving young Maggie Tulliver absorbed in the perusal of Daniel Defoe's The History of the Devil, instructs her to tell him about the book and interpret for him the illustrations: "here are some pictures - 1 want to know what they mean." Maggie, in explaining that the illustration depicts an old woman being drowned as a witch, adds "it's a dreadful picture, isn't it? But I can't help looking at it."29 This exchange reveals how a text can hold different meanings for its adult and its child reader - Mr. Riley is perfectly capable of perceiving himself what the pictures "mean," but he knows that they will hold a different meaning for the child viewer. In turn, Maggie's reaction to the visualization of pain and punishment speaks of the dual response of horror and fascination evoked by the representation of the deviant body and the body in pain. This issue of reading and interpreting the body is central in works of children's literature that depict oral consumption, and an analysis of these works must take into account how these texts function as sites of negotiation between viewing subject and viewed object. This thesis examines select works of Victorian children's literature - specifically, Mary De Morgan's "A  Toy Princess" (1877), Dr. Heinrich Hoffmann's "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup" (1845), Christina Rossetti's "Goblin Market" (1862) and Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (1865) - exploring how each of these texts incorporates the multifaceted issues of oral consumption, visuality and representation, "fact" and "fiction." In the first chapter, I outline the methodological framework that will inform and structure my analysis of these complex and intertwined issues of oral and visual consumption, reading and representation. In so doing, I discuss Michel Foucault's concepts of discourse, surveillance and the production of docile bodies, exploring the ways in which these aspects of his work will illuminate the dynamics that unfurl in the Victorian social, medical and literary texts I examine. At the same time, however, I also take into account how some of his ideas become problematic in the face of the specificity of the texts under examination, and seek to reconsider and expand some of these ideas. Chapter Two situates the texts within the nineteenth century visual order. It charts the emergence of the modern observer and the role of photography in this new system of visual consumption that comprised both surveillance and the spectacle. It takes into consideration the importance of portrait photography to the formation of the middle classes as well as the "scientific" use of photography to identify and monitor deviant bodies, such as the criminal and the insane. The chapter concludes with a discussion of the extent to which these images influenced the Victorians' perception and evaluation of "reality." Chapter Three contextualizes the emergence of anorexia nervosa as a modern disease and the Victorian preoccupation with food, eating, illness and women's bodies. I use an 1811 text entitled^ Faithful Relation of Ann Moore, ofTutbury, Staffordshire, who For Nearly Four Years, Has, and Still Continues, To Live without any Kind of Food, to which are added Reflections and Observations as a case study to examine the transition between religious and George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss, 18.  12  medical discourses on fasting and the increasing importance placed on the observation and representation of the body. I then move on to an analysis of the diagnosis of anorexia nervosa, outlining the medical conclusions of Dr. William Gull and Dr. Charles Lasegue. I situate these medical documents within the broader cultural context of Victorian middle-class society, examining the relationship between women and food and the symbolic significance of food and eating in the middle-class family. In Chapter Four I undertake a close reading of William Gull's "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)," published in Transactions of the Clinical Society of London in 1874. I discuss notions of physical and moral health and techniques of observation present in Gull's medical writings and lectures. I then proceed to illustrate how the discourses of insanity, moral management and female irrationality contributed to Gull's diagnosing anorexia nervosa as an inherently female condition. Finally, I look at Gull's use of photography as evidence, and examine how these photographs, while purporting to represent a factual reality, actually reveal their status as fictional constructions. Chapter Five examines Mary De Morgan's fairy tale "A Toy Princess" (1877) published just three years after William Gull's diagnosis of anorexia nervosa. I discuss how the tale represents the dynamics within the crucible of the family, and within society at large, that led to the formation of the Victorian anorectic, how De Morgan utilizes the tale as a vehicle to comment upon the complex dynamics surrounding the formation of gender roles, and the part reluctantly played by the daughter in maintaining the stability of family and state. I also explore the links between disordered eating and the visualization of the female body present both in the children's text and in De Morgan's own socio-cultural milieu. To this end, I discuss the significance of De Morgan's relationship to, and experience of, the ubiquitous Pre-Raphaelite images of women. Such a discussion will take into consideration the relationship between model and portrait - between original and copy - and will analyse how a similar relationship pervades  13  "A Toy Princess." I conclude my analysis of De Morgan's tale by evaluating the role and significance of William De Morgan's illustration, and the extent to which it comments on the concerns of visuality and female illness that pervade the verbal text. Chapter Six analyses Dr. Heinrich Hoffmann's "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup," first published in German in 1845 and translated into English in 1846. I begin by examining how the depiction of a boy who refuses to eat, wasting away from a chubby youngster to an emaciated corpse, depicts anorexic behaviour. I argue that this literary depiction prefigures the "scientific" anorectic. In the writings of both Gull and his French counterpart, Charles Lasegue, anorexia is presented as an inherently female and feminine condition - a result of the "irrational" nature of women. My analysis thus considers the ways in which Hoffmann's depiction of a male anorectic subverts the discursive construction of anorexia nervosa as a "female" illness, and how his children's tale might provide "fictional" insight into a "factual" disease. My discussion also considers the representation of bodies in pain and the visualization of the anorexic body. Augustus, whose body wastes away as he rebels against parental authority, paradoxically displays the representation of analogical punishment, whereby the perpetrator becomes the victim of his own "crime." Indeed, the text provides an interesting intersection between the spectacular display of punishment and the creation of docile bodies - a conflation of two modes of castigation that calls into question Michel Foucault's separation of the historical methods of punishment. I then proceed to look at the ways in which Hoffmann's illustrated text and Gull's medical document make use of similar modes of visual representation and of a similar verbal/visual relationship. In so doing, I discuss the extent to which the use of related visual styles in medical and children's texts might subvert the traditional distinction between medical and fictional literature. Christina Rossetti's "Goblin Market" (1862), which I discuss in Chapter Seven, incorporates similar issues of the anorexic body and the spectacle of pain, as well as the  14  dynamics of original and copy, artist and art-object, present in "A Toy Princess." In analyzing the poem, I argue that "Goblin Market" incorporates and critiques the convergence of multiple and apparently separate cultural discourses: first, artistic competition and the struggle for representational autonomy; second, the problematics of seeing and looking in a commodity culture increasingly dominated by a photographic sensibility; and finally, the use of oral consumption as a means of controlling the "text" of the body and the way it is read. I also consider D.G. Rossetti's illustrations, and how the visual depiction of "Goblin Market" enters into dialogue with the struggle over representation in the verbal text. The injunction "Eat Me, Drink Me" present in "Goblin Market" becomes an allusive refrain that weaves its way throughout Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (1865), published three years after Rossetti's poem. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland shares "Goblin Market"'s themes of oral consumption, the desire to move from the private to the public sphere, and the attempt to control one's representation in a commodity culture dominated by a photographic sensibility. This seventh, and final, chapter begins by discussing the significance of Alice's eating and the link between oral and visual consumption within the text. The chapter proceeds to consider how photographic sensibilities inform both the verbal text and Carroll's original illustrations of oral consumption. I conclude by exploring the dialogue between Dodgson's illustrations and those of John Tenniel.  15  Chapter One Methodological Framework  The work of the philosopher Michel Foucault has provided new ways of thinking about concepts of power and knowledge. His description of how vision and the human sciences work together to constitute a "knowable subject" has proved especially illuminating to historians of photography and medicine. Moreover, since Foucault's analysis of the emergence of modern state apparatuses (such as the prison and the clinic) focuses on the 18th and 19th centuries, it seems almost impossible for a student of the Victorian period not to read various literary, cultural and scientific movements through a Foucauldian framework. I suspect, however, that Foucault himself would caution against attributing to the period an all-encompassing and essentialized explanation such as suggesting that there exists a Victorian "ethos" readily explicable by the concepts of surveillance, productive punishment and the discursive proliferation of sex. Although it is problematic to apply homogeneously Foucault's ideas to a study of the Victorians, his discussion of the discursive construction of the body and the role of vision in the emergence of modern disciplinary societies provides useful tools for my exploration of how medical, literary and visual discourses constructed, through various codes of representation, the body of the disorderly eater. I will therefore provide an outline of those aspects of Foucault's work that I anticipate will prove valuable to my project, while raising some issues in his writings that I find need reconsideration and expansion given the specificity of my topic. At the foundation of Foucault's work is the concept of discourse, which is a practice such as the scientific discourse of psychiatry. In every society, the production of discourse is controlled, selected, organized and redistributed according to certain procedures, both external and internal. The external procedure of production relies upon three principles: prohibition,  16  involving objects, rituals and rights of speech; division and rejection, or the establishment of divisions such as reason and folly; and the opposition of true andfalse, a historically constituted division that relies upon institutional support and distribution. There also exist internal rules for the control and delimitation of discourse. These internal procedures concern themselves with the process of classification, ordering and distribution. They include: commentary, which involves the repetition and reification of a primary "text," and the author function, or the authorization of a body of work by a unifying principle. In addition to procedures that regulate the production of discourse, there exist conditions that determine whether a discourse may be employed. Not all areas of discourse are accessible to all people ~ to enter into discourse on a specific subject one must possess certain qualifications. This rarefication of speaking subjects operates according to the following principles: rituals of gestures, signs and words used define the qualifications required of the speaker; fellowship of discourse functions to preserve and reproduce discourse within a closed community; doctrine is the sign of adherence to a certain social, racial or class status or to a movement, linking individuals to certain types of utterance while barring them from others; and, finally, social appropriation of discourse, or the means (such as education) by which individuals in a society can gain access to discourse.' According to Foucault, discourse creates its object, and its subject. For example, when medical discourse refers to madness, it never refers to a fixed object but rather constitutes the object it describes. A disease such as madness is the product of medical discourses that reflect the dominant mode of thinking in a society. Thus the concept of "madness" (or of any disease or illness) has no essential identity that defines it continuously throughout history. The way in which a disease is defined and spoken about is an effect of the dominant discourse or scientific body of knowledge. The diagnosis of "illness" is therefore culturally defined. The above discussion of discourse relies on "The Discourse on Language" in The Archaeology of Knowledge; and,  17  For Foucault, then, the operation of discourse and the production of knowledge are inseparable from the exercise of power. Power and knowledge have a reciprocal relationship: the exercise of power creates new objects of knowledge while knowledge ratifies and calls upon the workings of power. Foucault traces the workings of power/knowledge to the birth of the modern carceral society. In Discipline and Punish: the Birth of the Prison, Foucault charts the emergence of a new system of discipline in the modern era. During the ancien regime, punishment assumed the form of a public spectacle of torture and execution. The spectacle of punishment was necessary because it was an expression of the sovereign power that punishes. The ceremony of punishment was an "exercise of terror" in which the sovereign manifested his power by torturing the body of the condemned, thus righting the balance of forces that had been upset by the criminal act. The ceremony required an audience to witness the might of the sovereign inscribed on the body of the victim. The audience participated in this ritual of power by assisting the king in his vengeance through catcalls, throwing objects and so forth. However, at times the audience could reverse the power dynamic by sympathizing with the victim. It was, in part, the precarious nature of the balance of power within the spectacle of torture that caused the shift in the practice of punishment. The movement from the monarchical system of torture to the modern system of discipline included an intermediary stage - that of "representational punishment." Unlike the arbitrary infliction of pain, it did not proceed from the monarch but rather from society as a whole. It operated according to the premise that interest in avoiding the penalty should be made greater than interest in committing the crime. In order to establish this balance of interests, the punishment had to make a lasting impression through the intense representation of an  The Discourse on Language, trans. Alan Sheridan (N.Y.: Pantheon Books, 1972) 215-237. Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison, trans. Alan Sheridan (N.Y.: Vintage Books, 1977) 49. 2  18  individualized penalty suited to the character of the crime committed. This form of punishment operated upon the establishment of an analogy between the crime committed and the punishment rendered. Accordingly, if an individual was accused of murder by poisoning, s/he would be poisoned in turn. Since such a system of punishment was directed not only at the one being punished, but also to all prospective criminals, it had to be highly visible. Hence, punishment was no longer a ritual that manifested the power of the monarch, but "a sign that serves as an obstacle."3 It no longer made use of the body, but rather of the dynamics of representation and the circulation of signs. Towards the end of the 18 century, the institutional form of the prison heralded a new form of punishment, one that was coercive and corporal. Foucault then traces the evolution of three distinct types of punishment: Broadly speaking, one might say that, in monarchical law, punishment is a ceremonial of sovereignty; it uses the ritual marks of the vengeance that it applies to the body of the condemned man; and it deploys before the eyes of the spectators an effect of terror as intense as it is discontinuous, irregular and always above its own laws, the physical presence of the sovereign and of his power. The reforming jurists, on the other hand, saw punishment as a procedure for requalifying individuals as subjects, as juridical subjects; it uses not marks, but signs, coded sets of representations, which would be given the most rapid circulation and the most general acceptance possible by citizens witnessing the scene of punishment. Lastly, in the project for a prison institution that was then developing, punishment was seen as a technique for the coercion of individuals; it operated methods of training the body - not signs - by the traces it leaves, in the form of habits, in behaviour; and it presupposed the setting up of a specific power for the administration of the penalty.4 Whereas the spectacle of monarchical punishment worked on the criminal's body, and the representational system of punishment appealed to the reason of both the criminal and the witness, the policy of corrective punishment worked on the criminal's soul. Discipline, according to Foucault, manipulates the soul by targeting the body. This "political anatomy," or machinery of power, examines the body, dissects it and rearranges it; in  3 4  Ibid., 94. Ibid., 130-131.  19  so doing, it produces "subjected and practiced bodies, 'docile' bodies."5 In rendering a body docile, discipline increases both its productivity and its obedience. Although discipline originates from institutions, it radiates outwards and permeates all levels and niches of society, thus producing a "micro-physics" of power.6 Discipline proceeds from the distribution of individuals in both space and time. It achieves such distribution through a variety of techniques: enclosure, partitioning, the creation of functional sites, the establishment of rank and of timetables, the temporal elaboration of the act (adjusting the body's movements to an obligatory rhythm), the correlation of the body and the gesture (in order to promote efficiency and speed), the body-object articulation (which defines the relationship the body must have with the object it contacts) and, finally, the principle of exhaustive use (the productive use of time). According to Foucault, in thus becoming "the target for new mechanisms of power, the body is offered up to new forms of knowledge."7 It is rendered "knowable" through the use of the "instruments" of hierarchical observation, normalizing judgment and the examination. Through the means of hierarchical observation, discipline replaces the public spectacle with "the Q  uninterrupted play of calculated gazes." The mechanism of hierarchical observation operates by rendering clearly visible those on whom it is applied. Its instruments consist of the telescope, lens and light beam as well as minor techniques of intersecting observations - "eyes that must see without being seen."9 Such hierarchized, continuous and functional surveillance enables disciplinary power to function anonymously, permanently and consistently. The mechanism of normalizing judgment, in turn, classifies, differentiates, excludes and corrects by referring individual actions to a norm. The examination combines the two mechanisms described above: "it is a normalizing gaze, a surveillance that makes it possible to qualify, to classify and to 5  Ibid., Ibid., 7 Ibid., 8 Ibid., 6  138. 139 155 177  20  punish. It establishes over individuals a visibility through which one differentiates them and judges them."10 In the examination, power is exercised and knowledge formed through three principle techniques. Firstly, the examination transforms the economy of visibility into the exercise of power. Disciplinary power is exercised through its invisibility while it imposes on its subjects a compulsory visibility. In this manner, the visibility of the monarch transforms into the "unavoidable visibility" of the subjects. Secondly, the examination introduces individuality into the field of documentation. While placing individuals under surveillance, it also situates them in an archive of written documents that records and fixes their identity. Thirdly, as a result of these documentary techniques, the examination transforms the individual into a 'case.' The biographical description of the individual is thus transformed from a means of heroization to a procedure of control and objectification. It is through the techniques of the examination that power produces the "reality" of the individual. Foucault cites Jeremy Bentham's model of the Panopticon as the architectural embodiment of this principle of disciplinary surveillance. Although a unique architectural example, the Panopticon serves as a way of defining the power relations that function "in the everyday life of men."11 In such a disciplinary society, the power to punish is generalized through the extension of "the infinitely minute web of panoptic techniques" that infiltrates all levels of society. As a result, "the codified power to punish turns into a disciplinary power to observe."12 The exercise of power over "the everyday life of men" functions on two interconnected levels: that of the individual body and that of the population. The anatomo-politics of the human body operates according to the procedures of power that characterizes the disciplines, 9  Ibid., 171. Ibid., 184. "ibid., 205. 12 Ibid., 224. 10  21  specifically, the disciplining of the body and the optimization of its capabilities. The biopolitics of the population supervises the biological processes of the social body - such as birth and death rates and the level of health - through a series of regulatory controls. Such regulatory controls operate through the discursive monitoring and production of sex. In the first volume of The History of Sexuality, Foucault challenges the repressive hypothesis by contending that towards the beginning of the eighteenth century there emerged an incitement to talk about sex. There arose the need to police sex - to manage and regulate it through useful public discourses. Nineteenth century medicine upheld the legitimate heterosexual couple as the norm and targeted their scrutiny on the sexuality of children, the perverse (such as homosexuals), and hysterics. Just as the nineteenth-century criminal became a case history, so did the nineteenth-century sexual deviant. Discourses on sexuality searched out aberrants, examined them, and provided detailed recordings of their behaviour; in effect, discourse turned sexuality into a science, a scientia sexualis. This science turned the religious act of confession into a form of medical examination in which the scientist used techniques such as interrogation to extract and interpret the hidden "truth" of sex. Scientia sexualis, according to Foucault, produced four domains of knowable subjects: the bourgeois procreative couple, the hysterical woman, the onanistic child and the perverse adult. In monitoring the activities of these groups, disciplinary discourses sought to regulate the reproductive energies of the population and to maximize its utility. In both his accounts of punishment and of sexuality, Foucault shows how the deployment of power is directly connected to the body. The body can never exist outside of power because power operates from multiple points. Foucault claims that resistance is produced by power: "where there is power there is resistance, and yet, or rather consequently, this 13  Michel Foucault, The History of Sexuality, vol. I: An Introduction, trans. Robert Hurley (NY.: Vintage, 1990)  22  resistance is never in a position of exteriority in relation to power."14 Like power, resistance has no centre or base but rather spreads throughout the network of power relations and operates from multiple points. Moreover, since no single individual or group holds power, no one can seize or overthrow it. Power in fact produces resistance, for resistance is formed "right at the point where relations of power are exercised."15 Foucault asserts that there are always possibilities for resistance: "discourse transmits and produces power; it reinforces it, but also undermines and exposes it, renders it fragile and makes it possible to thwart it."16 Although Foucault supports the possibility of resistance, since he claims that the workings of power are so diffuse, pervasive and ineradicable, it is difficult to comprehend in what precise ways and to what extent one can resist power and how political agency is possible. If power saturates the body so profoundly and, indeed, produces the body, how can a body escape its effects or act autonomously? Throughout my project I will attempt to address such questions about the possibilities of agency and what forms agency and resistance can assume. Specifically, I will raise the question of the extent to which the various writers are simply working within or are trying to transcode existing discursive formations, and of how oral consumption can operate at once within and against discursive conceptions of eating. This last question will become particularly important when examining anorexic behaviour as a statement of resistance. How is this disease paradoxically co-opted by the power relations it attempts to resist? In what ways can the power balance shift or be manipulated in relationships such as that between child and parent, patient and doctor? What kind of agency is possible in these situations? How can one negotiate constraint to produce resistance? Finally, what role does  139. Ibid., 95. 15 Power/Knowledge; Selected Interviews and Other Writings, 1972-1977. Ed. Colin Gordon (NY.: Pantheon Books, 1980) 142. 16 History of Sexuality, 101. 14  23  photography play in the workings of power and resistance? How does it work to form a material, gendered body? A second, and related area of Foucault's work that will need expansion is the absence of any critique of the construction of gender or discussion of how the various discursive practices and networks of power target genders differently. Whether discussing the barracks, the schoolroom or the penitentiary, Foucault implicitly addresses how power operates upon male bodies. If all bodies are not male, then for Foucault there seems to be no difference between gendered bodies. Moreover, how does not only gender construction, but class and racial constructions inscribe the body? How can the body resist or subvert its gendering? Since Foucault neglects to raise these issues, I will draw upon the work of Judith Butler, who carves out a position for a "Foucauldian feminism" by elaborating the possibilities for agency and gender resistance within a discursive framework. Butler takes up Foucault's notions of the discursive production of bodies to argue that ritualized repetition produces and attempts to stabilize both gender and the materiality of sex. Just as there is no prediscursive gender, neither is there a prediscursive 'sex'. Rather, 'sex' is a "regulatory ideal whose materialization is compelled, and this materialization takes place (or fails to take place) through certain highly regulated practices."17 Both sex and gender are performatively constituted in the service of the "consolidation of the heterosexual imperative." According to Butler, this heterosexual imperative enables certain sexual identities and forbids others. She utilizes Julia Kristeva's theory of abjection to explain how, because of the heterosexual imperative, the subject is constituted through exclusion and abjection. The disavowed domain of abject beings will  17 18  Judith Butler, Bodies that Matter: On the Discursive Limits of Sex (N.Y.: Routledge, 1993) xi. Ibid.  24  threaten to expose the precarious foundations of the sexed subject. This domain of abject beings can be a critical resource in the rearticulation of what counts as "bodies that matter."19 For Butler, the idea that the subject is discursively constructed does not necessarily preclude the possibility of agency but rather, "construction is not opposed to agency; it is the necessary scene of agency."20 The subject is not an essential entity but a continual process of signification and re-signification within a system of discursive possibilities. The fact that this reiteration of gender and sex is necessary is a sign of its instability. Agency can harness this fundamental instability through the "subversive repetition" of signifying practices.21 In such a manner, bodily surfaces can become the sites of "a dissonant and denaturalized performance that reveals the performative status of the natural itself"22 In this vein, either exaggerated performances of the norm or practices associated with liminal or abject beings - for example the "butch" or "femme" - can work to challenge the stability of normative identities. In my discussion of Victorian eating disorders, I will draw on Butler's work by examining how disordered/disorderly eating opens up spaces of instability. For example, how might the over-eater engage in an exaggerated and transgressive performance and thus reveal the hyperbolic status of norms surrounding oral consumption (and sexuality)? Similarly, how does the anorectic, by taking the cultural imperative of female frailty to an extreme, make it socially subversive? With the loss of sexual characteristics and reproductive functions, how does the anorectic threaten not only gender distinctions but also sexual distinctions? A fourth area of Foucault's work that I find problematic is his strict opposition of the regime of the spectacle with the regime of surveillance. Although the advent of photographic practices in the nineteenth century certainly involved practices of surveillance, photography did 19  Ibid., 11. Judith Butler, Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (N.Y.: Routledge, 1990) 147. 21 Ibid., 146. 20  25  not take over, but rather operated alongside, the larger visual discourse of the period. While individuals were constructed as isolated objects held in the gaze of the photographer's lens, they also were also constructed subjects with greater access to new means of visibility such as the stereoscope, the diorama and the Great Exhibit. According to Jonathan Crary, nineteenth century techniques of visuality managed not just the viewed object but also the viewing subject. He posits that this time period witnessed the shift from the viewer as "spectator" - one who is a passive onlooker at a spectacle - to viewer as "observer" - one who sees within a prescribed set of possibilities.23 Optical devices arranged bodies in space and regulated activities, thus codifying and normalizing the observer.24 Moreover, not only did new technologies of vision construct a normalized observer, but also the loss of touch as a conceptual component of vision and the subsequent "autonomization of sight" formed an observer conducive to "spectacular consumption."25 Elizabeth Anne McCauley contends that it was the mode of observer as flaneur- or mobile consumer of fleeting images - that made possible the production and proliferation of the carte-de-visite26 The figure of \he flaneur incorporates both techniques of observing - that of surveillance and that of the spectacle. The flaneur is at once a mobile consumer of a succession of commodified images and a voyeur who surveys and regulates the spectacular space that s/he witnesses. Anne McClintock also conflates the idea of surveillance and spectacle in her notion of "panoptical time," or imperial progress consumed at a glance.29 The Great Exhibition of the Crystal Palace exemplified this merging of regimes of power and vision. The spectators, seated 23  Jonathan Crary, Techniques of the Observer: On Vision and Modernity in the Nineteenth Century (Cambridge, Mass: MIT Press, 1990) 5-6. 24 Ibid., 18. 25 Ibid., 19. 26 Elizabeth Anne McCauley, A.E. Disderi and the Carte de Visite Portrait Photograph (New Haven: Yale UP, 1985) 36, 220. "Crary, 21. 28 Chris Jenks, "Watching Your Step: The History and Practice of the Flaneur," Visual Culture, ed. Chris Jenks (London: Routledge, 1995) 145-146. Anne McClintock, Imperial Leather•; Race, Gender and Sexuality in the Colonial Contest (N.Y.: Routledge, 1995) 34.  26  around the circular observation tower of the panorama, could consume the moving views and engage in the illusion of high-speed travel across the globe. They became the imaginary conquerors and proprietors of all they surveyed. The panorama thus inverted the panoptical technique by converting panoptic surveillance into commodity spectacle.30 The shift from viewer as spectator to viewer as observer affected not just how the viewing subject perceived images, artwork and exhibitionary displays, but how the individual structured and apprehended the world. Indeed, toward the latter half of the century, it had become a characteristic way of knowing to "render the world up to be viewed" as an endless exhibition - a pictured object, a display to be observed and evaluated by the anatomizing gaze.31 The final aspect of Foucault's work that I will reconsider in this paper is the separation of historical methods of punishment. I would contend that the punishment of the individual and, in particular, the viewer's relationship to the punished body cannot be so rigidly sequentialized that there can exist an overlap between the spectacular display of punishment and the creation of docile bodies. For example, how is the disorderly eater at once a deviant criminal and an obedient object? In what sense does the hunger striker, whose body wastes away as s/he rebels against the status quo, paradoxically display the representation of inversive punishment whereby the perpetrator becomes the victim of his/her own "crime"? To what extent do William Gull's photographs of anorexic bodies serve to exhibit, in luridly painful detail, the perils of "disobedience"? In addition to serving a scientific function, might they also operate according to a pedagogy of fear? What role does the viewer play in interpreting the spectacle of the body in pain? How does the reader - of the bodily text as well as the medical and literary text - imbue it with signification? How does visual representation speak to cultural anxieties and engage the audience in a complex web of fascination and repulsion, power and abjection?  w  Ibid., 57-59. Timothy Mitchell, "Orientalism and the Exhibitionary Order," in Colonialism and Culture, ed. Nicholas B. Dirks (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1992) 292. 31  27  Chapter Two Photography and Victorian Visuality I: The Nineteenth Century Visual Order Due to the efforts of Henry Fox Talbot in England and Louis Daguerre in France, by 1839 photography had developed into a workable technology. Although photography only became a viable practice after 1839, photographic experiments, and the desire to photograph - to capture images and render the world into an observable representation - proliferated well before its successful invention. Photography first appeared as a discursive practice - or as Geoffrey Batchen describes it, as a "rapidly growing, widely dispersed, and increasingly urgent need for that which was to become photography" - in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century.' The desire to photograph emerged out of a growing epistemological dilemma surrounding the issues of culture and nature, transcience and fixity, space and time, subject and object - in effect, the status of representation and existence.2 The conception of photography was enabled not only by the scientific discoveries and the invention of new technologies but primarily by the emergence of a new visual order. In Techniques of the Observer, Jonathan Crary outlines how, beginning in the early nineteenth century, a new relationship between institutional and discursive power and the body defined the status of an observing subject.  I will outline Crary's argument in considerable  detail because his delineation of the emergence of a modern visual order that extended throughout various disciplines and discourses helps to illuminate the conditions under which disordered eating became the object of observation. According to Crary, photography served as just one part of the broad transformation of vision that occurred in the nineteenth century, and art and literature just one facet of a multidimensional field of practices which produced the ideas of 1 2  Geoffrey Batchen, Burning with Desire: the Conception of Photography (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1997) 52. Ibid, 100.  28  subjective vision and a modern observer. To comprehend fully the scope and pervasiveness of this new regime of visuality, photographic practices must be considered as part of a larger visual discourse, and artistic and literary representation as inseparable from scientific and technical discourses. The movement from a classical to a more modern model of vision encompassed more than a shift in representational conventions. In fact, it formed part of a reorganization of knowledge and practices that changed the "productive, cognitive and desiring capacities of the human subject."4 Such a reorganization of the field of vision resulted in the emergence of the modern observer. The nineteenth century witnessed the transformation of viewer as spectator or passive onlooker - to viewer as observer, one who sees within a prescribed set of possibilities.5 While Crary's discussion of the observer is de-gendered, and does not incorporate any notion of racial identity or class status, he does state that there never exists a "self-present beholder to whom a world is transparently evident"; rather, the observer emerged out of an evershifting field of discursive events and arrangements.6 While the observer had no permanent or concrete identity, the existence of the observer as a mode of perception and as a technique of visualizing was made possible by the emergence of new technologies, scientific knowledge and social practices. The mode of the observer replaced the classical spectator. The classical mode of vision operated upon the model of the camera obscura. During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the model of the camera obscura explained vision and represented the position of the perceiver to the external world.7 The camera obscura functioned to separate the act of seeing from the physical body of the viewer - it decorporealized vision.8  3  Jonathan Crary, Techniques of the Observer: On Vision and Modernity in the Nineteenth Century (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1990). 4 Ibid, 3. 5 Ibid., 5-6. 6 Ibid., 6. 7 Ibid., 27. 8 Ibid., 39  29  According to this mode, the viewer's apprehension of the world is uninfluenced by his/her own physical body and sensory faculties; in short, vision is entirely objective. The modern observer, conversely, was made possible precisely by corporeal subjectivity. In the beginning of the nineteenth century, the science of vision turned from the examination of the mechanics of light and optical transmission to an interrogation of the physiological construction of the human subject. The production of optical experience moved from the disembodied, objective model of the camera obscura to the human body.9 Yet, simultaneously, sight was dissociated from touch, resulting in a new autonomization of perception. This autonomization formed an observer amenable to the task of "spectacular consumption" wherein the new objects of vision - such as photographs, advertisements and so forth - assumed an abstract identity, sundered as they were from their referential objects.10 The rise of a new mode of vision resulted in subjecting the observer, as well as the observed, to empirical study. In this manner, the observer became the subject of new knowledge and techniques of power. With the invention of new technologies of vision such as the diorama, stereoscope and photographic camera, the body was at once an observing spectator, a subject of research and observation, and an element of machine production.'' These optical devices arranged bodies in space and regulated activities; in so doing, they worked to codify and normalize the observer within a system of visual consumption.12 Photography played a central role in this new system of visual consumption. The photograph, in effect, helped to shape the modern terrain of observation and representation in which images, separated from their referents, circulated and were consumed. Yet it is important to remember that photographic practices were embedded in the larger visual discourse of the period - a discourse that not only attempted to make certain individuals knowable by rendering 9  Ibid., 69-70. Ibid., 19. "ibid., 112. 10  30  them visible and observable, but that also produced, through new technologies of visibility, equally "knowable" observers. Moreover, as individuals were made into both visible objects and observing subjects, the nineteenth century observer was constituted not only through the regime of panoptic surveillance, but also within the field of spectacular consumption. In this manner, the visual order of the nineteenth century merged both the regimes of surveillance and spectacle. Hence photographic technology - by inexpensively capturing and reproducing images of both the "ordinary" and the "exotic" - expanded the range of peoples and objects which could be observed and provided a representational schema by which individuals could order and classify their world and their place within it.  II: Portrait Photography, the Carte-de-Visite and the Formation of the Middle Classes Part of the incentive to develop a new photographic process came from the demands of the emerging middle classes for affordable and readily available images of themselves. The portrait functioned as an inscription of social identity and an indicator of social prosperity. The demand for self-portraits thus arose out of commodity fetishism as well as out of the need to construct representatively one's relation to the social order. The portrait held the ability to constitute and reify one's position within a discursive terrain. It is understandable, then, that the rise of photography, and of portrait photography in particular, coincided with the rise of the middle classes towards greater economic and social status.13 The carte-de-visite portrait photograph, patented by A.E. Disderi in 1854, answered the public's demand for likenesses captured quickly and economically for the purpose of identification and documentation.M Originally conceived as an extension of the calling card, the possession of the carte displayed and legitimated identity  12  Ibid., 18. John Tagg, The Burden of Representation: Essays on Photographies and Histories (Minneapolis: UP of Minneapolis, 1993)37-40. 14 Elizabeth Anne McCauley, A.E. Disderi and the Carte de Visite Portrait Photograph (New Haven: Yale UP, 1985)27. 13  31  and social rank. Despite its original conception, the carte-de-visite was rarely used for visiting. Its primary function was to provide visual information to family and friends through the perusal of photograph albums.! 5 Portrait studios produced photographs largely of the middle classes and, in particular, of families.16 Indeed, photographic portraiture functioned to produce the ideal of the middle-class family. The camera worked to frame the body within cultural and aesthetic discourses and to position it within a set of social relations. Because the face and bearing of the photographed subjects - be they card-holders or portrait owners - could reveal rriore about them than their 17  signature or title, the positioning and costuming of the body assumed great significance. Photographic portraiture drew upon the related sciences of physiognomy and phrenology. According to the discourse of physiognomy, there existed a direct correlation between facial characteristics and expression and the internal nature of the individual. Similarly, phrenology posited an correlation between cranial shape and nature. These sciences then served to transform the body into a visible, analyzable and classifiable text. Victorian audiences were highly familiar with these discourses.  In 1852, the Art Journal urged: "every painter should be a  phrenologist."18 Artists followed this counsel, utilizing the notion that deviancy from established norms produced distinct physical characteristics - bodily signs which included clothing - in their paintings of "types," for example that of the "fallen woman."19  Popular conceptions of  physiognomy and phrenology were also disseminated by artists in daily and weekly newspapers.20 Photographers (and their subjects) operated within these discourses to orchestrate meaningful postures and expressions. Thus the arrangement of hands, heads, shoulders, and the 15  William C. Darrah, Cartes de Visite in Nineteenth Century Photography (Gettysburg: W.C. Darrah, 1981) 4. Suren Lalvani, Photography, Vision and the Production of Modern Bodies (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1996)47. 17 McCauley, 31. Quoted in Mary Cowling, The Artist as Anthropologist: The Representation of Type and Character in Victorian Art (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1989) 104. 19 Lynda Nead, Myths of Sexuality: Representations of Women in Victorian Britain (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1988) 170. 16  32  positioning of bodies in relation to each other, all served to evoke a cultural ideal of middle-class domesticity. Although carte-de-visite and studio portraiture was produced for the private consumption of middle-class individuals and their families, it nevertheless served a deeply symbolic public function. Families would assemble and display their photographs in albums; the perusal and contemplation of these albums, and the exchange and collection of cartes, filled the leisure hours of the middle classes.21 They became accustomed to viewing and interpreting portraits of themselves as, in a sense, taxonomical specimens - displaying characteristic stance, costumes and facial features.22 Thus we can read portrait photography as a disciplinary practice that targeted and manipulated its subjects by positioning them in space, adjusting their gestures and articulating their meaning in order to produce docile bodies. It also incorporated the mechanism of examination by rendering individuals visible, knowable and classifiable. Portrait photography operated in the regulation of the social body. By displaying either individual males or the domestic family, these portraits reproduced and consolidated the cult of domesticity and the doctrine of separate spheres.23 These photographic productions, whose signification was instituted through the stylization of the body, were highly performative. The photograph did not impose an identity on a pre-existent subject, but rather the subject came into social existence precisely through the corporeal stylization of the portrait photo. Photographic depictions of the middle-class family, by citing and reiterating the bourgeois norm, functioned as performatives, producing that which they named. This repeated stylization, by producing the appearance of substance, caused both the viewing audience and the performing actors to invest identity with the status of the "real" (figures 1 and 2).  20  Cowling, 143. McCauley, 48, 100. 22 Ibid., 37.  21  33  HI: Capturing the "Other": Photographic Practices and the Human Sciences Carte-de-visite and portrait photography enabled the performative display of certain identities while foreclosing the possibility of others. In this sense, a middle-class family announced its status through the assumption of codified gestures and clothing that marked them as separate and different from the working classes. Photographic practices reflected a process of identity formation that psychoanalyst Julia Kristeva terms abjection. Kristeva bases her concept of abjection upon anthropologist Mary Douglas' ideas of classificatory systems. For Douglas, the symbolic and social marking of difference is crucial to the construction of identity positions and the formation of a culture. This marking takes place by assigning people and things to different positions within a classificatory system. The system divides a population into at least two opposing groups. This marking of difference produces and maintains social order: ideas about separating, purifying, demarcating and punishing transgressions have as their main function to impose system on an inherently untidy experience. It is only by exaggerating the difference between within and without, above and below, male and female, for and against, that a semblance of order is created.24 The classificatory system is affirmed in speech and rituals that extend to all aspects of life preparing food, cleaning, dressing and so forth. Such classificatory rituals operate according to Foucault's idea of a micro-physics of power, pervading the social body, marking and creating its individual subjects. Social control is exercised through the creation of "insiders" and "outsiders" whereby individuals who transgress are relegated to the status of "outsider." In this fashion, the identity of the "outsider" is produced in relation to, and is dependent upon, the status of the "insider" and vice versa. That which cannot be safely placed within the classificatory system which eludes the label of inside or outside - Douglas calls "dirt" or matter out of place. Such matter is dangerous and threatening to the social order as it reveals the inadequacies of its system and the precariousness of its foundation. 23 24  Lalvani, 60. Mary Douglas, Purity and Danger: An Analysis of Pollution and Taboo (London: Routledge, 1966) 4.  34  Kristeva terms this process of creating an "inside" and "outside" abjection. Abjection is a process whereby a social being is constituted through expulsion. In order to become a part of society, the self has to reject and expel whatever elements society labels unclean and improper. Abjection is the repulsion of the "other" in order to autonomize the self. It is a "revolt of being," directed against a threat that seems to emanate from outside.25 The radically separate abject other serves as a safeguard which helps establish the subject's identity as closed and stable. However, the border between self and other is illusory since the expelled abject continually fascinates the subject with the knowledge of what it had to expel in order to exist. The abject other threatens to dissolve the precariously constituted boundaries of the self. Because this abject domain continually threatens socially constituted subjects, individuals must repeatedly enact their normative status in order to consolidate a fundamentally unstable identity. The proliferation of photographic portraits and cartes-de-visites drew upon the workings of the classificatory system. Based as they were upon the sciences of phrenology and physiognomy, these images offered an ostensibly irrefutable text easily decodable to the Victorian public. By reading the signs of these photographic images, the viewers could neatly assign each body to its proper place within the social classificatory system - not only in terms of class, but also in terms of race, gender, and emotional traits. In this manner, then, the circulation of these images served to reproduce and reify the classificatory system and its component parts. It not only consolidated the identity of the respectable classes, it worked to constitute a domain of abject beings and to congeal the division between the insiders and the outsiders. Just who constituted this domain of abject beings? How were they brought into being through photographic techniques? In the mid-nineteenth century, the emerging disciplines of anthropology, criminology and psychiatry adopted the new science of photography as an innovative means of amassing and organizing data. The photographic portrait "type" became the 25  Julia Kristeva, Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection, trans. Leon S. Roudiez (NY.: Columbia UP, 1982) 1.  35  most utilized means of recording, classifying and comparing the human subject. As with middleclass portraits, photographic types drew upon phrenological and physiognomic discourses to represent constructively a specific category of human beings. According to its nineteenth century anthropological definition, the "type" represented "the general form or character which distinguishes a given group... it was also the person or thing which exhibits these qualities, or at least some of them."26 Victorian belief in photography's ability to render truthfully a mirror representation of "reality" worked to support the idea of the fixity of types, and to reify their distinguishing characteristics. An essay on the requisite techniques of "good" photography illuminates this confidence in the reality of the photographic image: The photographer is bound by simple truth - happily that is an important, if not the all important principle in representation, he can neither add anything to adorn his picture, nor remove anything that is offensive ... appearing as the exact transcript of nature.27 An article in the January 1859 issue of the British medical journal, Lancet, proffers a similar view: Photography is so essentially the Art of Truth - and the representative of Truth in Art - that it would seem to be the essential means of reproducing all forms and structures of which science seeks for delineation...28 This confidence in the detached, objective eye of the photographic lens worked to obscure the constructed status of the representation. The subject "type" was most often isolated against a plain background that erased any contextual markers of time or place. In this sense, the body of the scientific subject became legible and decodable by the discerning, knowing gaze of the scientist. However, as these photographic types began to circulate amongst the public as cartede-visite representations, anyone familiar with the rules of physiognomy and phrenology could, themselves, become the decoding (and encoding) scientist. In observing and classifying the 26  Elizabeth Edwards, "Photographic 'Types': the Pursuit of a Method," Visual Anthropology 3. 2-3 (1990) 240. S. Bourne, "On Some Requisites Necessary for the Production of the Good Photograph," Photographic News 3.308 (1859), quoted in Edwards, 235.  27  36  represented type, the viewer could reaffirm his or her own place within the social classificatory system (figures 3 and 4). Photography, and the establishment of photographic types, became an invaluable tool in detection due to both its iconic nature, by which it supposedly produced a direct and recognizable image of its object, and its detachable quality, by which it could be severed from its absent object, circulated and archived.29 In criminological practice, the body of the criminal was now identified through an archived photograph as opposed to the pre-modern method of branding the criminal's body. As Foucault has explained, instead of being marked with sovereign power, the body was now observed, measured, written about, and recorded.  The  development of photographic processes coincided with the introduction of the British police system, and police employed civilian photographers from 1841 onwards.31 The operation of the police force relied, not on outward, forcible manifestations of their power, but rather on the operations of moral supervision and surveillance. This supervision produced new knowledge about criminality and the "dangerous classes" - knowledge which required new systems of documentation and techniques for gathering evidence.32 One of the earliest uses of the photographic process in criminal detection occurred in France in 1841. The police adopted the idea of taking a daguerreotype portrait of the major criminals they had arrested. They then circulated the photographic likeness to other police departments with the idea that if the criminal -3-3  escaped he would be easily recognizable elsewhere in the country (figure 5).  Lancet, January 22, 1859, p. 89, quoted in Sander L. Gilman, "Hugh W. Diamond and Psychiatric Photography" in The Face of Madness: Hugh W. Diamond and the Origin of Psychiatric Photography, ed. Sander L. Gilman (N.Y.: Brunner/Mazel, 1976) 5. 29 Tom Gunning, "Tracing the Individual Body: Photography, Detectives, and Early Cinema," Cinema and the Invention of Modern Life, ed. Leo Charney and Vanessa R. Schwartz (Berkeley: U of California P, 1995) 20. 30 Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison (N.Y.: Vintage Books, 1979) 31 John Tagg, The Burden of Representation: Essays on Photographies and Histories (Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1993)73. 32 Lalvani, 103. 33 Bernard V. and Pauline F. Heathcote, "The Custodial Photograph," Shadow and Substance: Essays on the History of Photography, ed. Kathleen Collins (Michigan: The Amorphous Institute Press, 1990) 115.  37  Both Alphonse Bertillon, a Parisian police officer, and Francis Galton, an English eugenicist, attempted to create a photographic system which would enable the identification of those members of society prone to crime. Bertillon assumed that, for the most part, crimes were committed by repeat offenders. He thus devised a filing system for capturing criminals who attempted a second offense. He developed the "mug shot" - frontal and profile portraits of the criminal's face. His photographs were supplemented by records of the measurements of different body parts. Thus the visual portrait was accompanied by a verbal "portrait" - the visual and verbal descriptions worked alongside each other to transform the criminal's body into a legible, analyzable and classifiable text. Galton, conversely, constructed a portrait that, as opposed to individualizing the body, typified the criminal. He emphasized the importance of physiognomic and phrenological features to the distinguishing of the criminal type. He devised a camera that could take twelve different portraits on the same plate, thus creating a composite portrait. Galton posited that these composite portraits would reveal the features that each individual shared with his type.34 As the purpose of photographing criminals was to keep track of them and to facilitate the apprehension of repeat offenders by rendering them publicly knowable and recognizable, photographic images of criminals were not confined to police departments but rather circulated in the public sphere. Indeed, the public display of criminal portraits became a popular tourist attraction as photographic galleries housing these images drew large crowds of urban spectators.  Criminal portraits achieved an almost fetishistic status. In 1849, Martin Laroche  took daguerreotype portraits of an infamous English couple charged with murder. Laroche took advantage of the public's interest in the sensational conviction to sell lithographs of the portraits. Likewise, after photographing the Irish political prisoner Kevin O'Doherty, the photographer J.  34  See Alan Sekula, "The Body and the Archive," October 39 (Winter 1986) 3-64, for a comparative discussion of Bertillon and Galton's techniques of photographing criminals. 35 Gunning, 24.  38  Tully had a lithograph made from the portrait and distributed this image on a wholesale and retail basis to be purchased by O'Doherty supporters. These copies, in addition to circulating as cartes, were mounted in brooches and lockets.36 If photographs of criminals achieved a currency outside of police departments, they also held wider implications for the identification and management not only of offenders but also of a vast spectrum of social "deviants." Francis Galton, for example, envisioned the application of his photographic system not just to criminals but also to prostitutes, vagrants, alcoholics and the physically and mentally ill: The really scientific method would be to apply the tests on whole sections of the labouring classes of society including the criminal... [It] seems clear that a scientific criminal anthropology which is to cover the whole ground must deal with the idle, the vagrant, the pauper, the prostitute, the drunkard, the imbecile, the epileptic, the insane, as well as the criminal. Thomas Barnardo - founder of the "Home for Destitute Lads" - harnessed this discourse of "scientific criminal anthropology" and, combining it with the disciplinary tactics of photography, succeeded in commodifying the image of the young vagrant. Beginning in 1870, Barnardo commissioned "before and after" photographs which claimed to represent the children as they arrived at the Home, and then as they were some while after: clean, obedient and diligent workers - in effect, "docile bodies." These photographs became, not just a form of observation and normalization, but also of commodified advertisement. Barnardo pasted the photos onto information cards and then sold these collectible advertisements in packs of twenty-five (figures 6 and 7).38 The nascent discipline of psychiatry, under the impetus of Dr Hugh Welch Diamond, became the first of the medical sciences to undertake the practice of clinical photography.39 In 1852, Diamond presented a photographic series on "the types of insanity" to a London audience. 36  Heathcote, 115. Quoted in Lalvani, 126 38 Tagg, 85 37  39  Although Diamond's collection of the faces of insanity had precedents in the work of J.E.D. Esquirol, who had commissioned physiognomic sketches of hundreds of patients at the Salpetriere, and of Sir Alexander Morison, who had published the atlas The Physiognomy of Mental Diseases in 1838, his portraits were the first systemic use of photographs in psychiatric 40  practice. In his essay "On the Application of Photography to the Physiognomic and Mental Phenomena of Insanity," read to the Royal Society on May 22, 1856, Diamond explicated his theories on the disciplinary function of photographic practices at the Surrey Asylum. For Diamond, the photograph surpassed all other methods of description in its ability to transcribe faithfully the minutest differences in facial expression and physiognomy: The Photographer... needs in many cases no aid from any language of his own, but prefers rather to listen, with the picture before him, to the silent but telling language of nature - It is unnecessary for him to use the vague terms which denote a difference in the degree of mental suffering, as for instance, distress, sorrow, deep sorrow, grief, melancholy, anguish, despair; the picture speaks for itself with the most marked pression and indicates the exact point which has been reached in the scale of unhappiness between the first sensation and its utmost height - similarly the modification of fear, and of the more painful passions, anger and rage, jealousy and envy, (the frequent concomitants of insanity) being shown from the life by the Photographer, arrest the attention of the thoughtful observer more powerfully than any laboured description... .the Photographer secures with unerring accuracy the external phenomena of each passion, as the really certain indication of internal derangement, and exhibits to the eye the well known sympathy which exists between the diseased brain and the organs and features of the body.41 The above passage demonstrates not only Diamond's faith in the ability of the photograph to capture accurately and "truthfully" the image of the patient, but also indicates how the photograph became the primary language of the scientific text, on equal if not greater footing than any verbal description. His capitalization of "Photographer" is particularly interesting: it suggests that he invests the photographer with an almost omnipotent, omniscient status - like a  Gilman, "Hugh W. Diamond and Psychiatric Photography," 5. Ibid., 7. 41 Hugh W. Diamond, "On the Application of Photography to the Physiognomic and Mental Phenomena of Insanity," in The Face of Madness, 19-20. 40  40  God who creates the world he represents. Diamond also mentions the power of the photographer to "arrest the attention of the thoughtful observer." Such rhetoric clearly demonstrates the dynamics of knowledge and power at work in the photographic depiction of the patients. The photographic lens holds the ability to capture not only the depicted object, but also the gaze of the enthralled observer. Terms such as "arrest" and "thoughtful" indicate that the observer as well as the patient is frozen in a specific subject position or discursive construct. The viewer of the photographs is not a passive spectator, but rather conforms to Crary's notion of the observer who sees within a prescribed set of possibilities, just as regulated and normalized as the object of the gaze. It also suggests the almost fetishistic status of the photographic portrait, which is able to compel and fascinate, as well as the anatomizing gaze which pornographically lingers over the represented body, dissecting, encoding and decoding. For Diamond, these photographs, in addition to enlightening the audience, also served to reform and re-socialize the patients. He outlined three ways in which the photographs could aid the rehabilitation process. First, they could aid the patient's recovery by presenting to them their own self-image. For example, Diamond relates how he persuaded all the women under the delusion that they were queens to sit for their portraits. Each individual's subsequent amusement at viewing pictures of others who (unlike them) imagined themselves queens helped them to see their own portrait as a similar charade and, according to Diamond, served as "the first decided step in her gradual improvement."42 Secondly, photographs, in recording the faces of patients, could provide identification for later re-admission and treatment. Diamond refers to the use of such archival techniques in prisons as evidence of the invaluability of such a system of tracking and managing deviance.43 Lastly, the photograph could record the appearance of the mentally ill for study and observation - not just by the psychiatrist, but also by the patient. To illustrate this principle, Diamond gives the example of four portraits that represent different phases of a case of  41  a young person suffering from puerperal mania. The photos chart her progression from a state in which "no man could tame her" to "theperfect cure."44 Not only does this progressive series of photographs chart how the woman is transformed - in the eye of the camera - from a social threat to a docile body, but they also effectively replace the monitoring gaze of the physician. For, the observation of her self-portraits would succeed in maintaining the patient in a suitable frame of abject gratitude and obedient subjectivity. As Diamond states: This patient could scarcely believe that her last portrait representing her as clothed and in her right mind, would even have been preceded by anything so fearful; and she will never cease, with these faithful monitors in her hand, to express the most lively feelings of gratitude for a recovery so marked and unexpected...45 This set of "before and after" portraits made use of psychiatric and visual conventions for portraying insane or somehow socially aberrant women. The sanity of female patients was often evaluated according to their level of conformity to middle-class standards of fashion and conceptions of appropriate feminine grooming. In this vein, disheveled dress and hair signified deviation from social codes of femininity and thus mental deviation. Conversely, well-groomed hair and pleasing dress signaled the return to socially sanctioned gender performance and thus to mental sanity. Asylum superintendents would thus use clothing as an instrument of control to manage and render docile the women patients.46 For example, John Conolly, superintendent at Hanwell Asylum, describes how his female patients could be tamed into becoming ladylike: "quiet, decorous in manners and language, attentive to their dress, disposed to useful activity, and able to preserve their good behaviour in chaple."47 Diamond's photographs of the four stages of puerperal mania conform to this psychiatric discourse by charting the patient's progression from mental illness to health as a movement from gender deviance to gender conformity (figure 42  Ibid. 23. Ibid., 24. 44 Ibid., 21 45 Ibid. 46 Elaine Showalter, The Female Malady: Women, Madness and English Culture, 1830-1980 (N.Y.: Pantheon Books, 1985)84-85. 43  42  8). The patient's short, unruly hair transforms into a tidy bun partially hidden by the requisite bonnet; her slovenly robe is replaced by a tidy, feminine outfit comprised of a dress, a pretty paisley-patterned shawl and a bonnet tied under her chin with a neat bow; her hands, hidden in the manner of the invisible straight-jacket, are calmly clasped in front of her midriff; finally, her visage moves from emotionally expressive facial gestures to a blank, passive demeanor. Unlike the German tradition, where the picture replaced the textual description, the British tradition of psychiatric photography emphasized the need to provide guidelines for interpreting the pictures.48 Accordingly, Diamond's photographs inspired a series of essays by John Conolly on "The Physiognomy of Insanity" (1858). His papers were accompanied by lithographic illustrations based on Diamond's photographs. In an essay on puerperal mania, Conolly, in addition to verbally describing each stage of the illness as depicted in the photographic sequence, dramatically narrates the story of the young woman's descent into madness. His narration is remarkable for its fusion of "medical evidence," sensational storytelling and the discursive construction of gender deviance as madness. According to Conolly's account, the onset of illness results in the unusual and thus insane behaviour of a new wife and mother: This pleasant domestic state is all at once interrupted by the altered tone, or manner, or temper of the young mother; who speaks sharply to those about her, or loses her cheerfulness, becomes indifferent to her child and seems as if her thoughts were occupied with scenes of gaiety, or in listening to amusing conversations; adopting a levity of manner and a fantastic arrangement of her head-dress or general apparel; and seeming to be detached from her husband, and from all about her, and from everything real.49 Conolly proceeds to give a detailed description and physiognomic interpretation of each facial expression as revealed by the photographs, and documents the patient's progression from illness to health.  47  John Conolly, Treatment of the Insane Without Mechanical Restraints (1856) (London: Dawsons, 1964) 127-128. Sander L. Gilman, Seeing the Insane (NY.: John Wiley & Sons, 1982) 176. 49 John Conolly, "Case Studies from The Physiognomy of Insanity" The Medical Times and Gazette (1858) in Gilman, ed., 59. 48  43  Both Diamond and Conolly's work illustrate the foundation of Victorian psychiatry on the idea of "moral insanity" and "moral management." The discourse of "moral insanity" redefined madness as not the loss of reason but rather the deviance from socially acceptable forms of behaviour. "Moral management," in turn, replaced physical restraint with disciplinary surveillance and the re-education of the insane in habits of industry and self-control in the hopes of making them good citizens.50 In this vein, Diamond purports that his "before and after" portraits reveal a "moral truth."51 In his claim that the photographs place the patients under continual surveillance by rendering them "observable not only now but for ever," Diamond joins the disciplinary apparatus to this moral control of the body. In his work, the camera becomes the primary diagnostic tool for identifying the morally suspect and for defining that suspect as an observed and controllable object. While Diamond's work signified a breakthrough in the development of psychiatric illustration, it was not until 1876 that new photogravure processes made it possible to reproduce photographs directly into medical textbooks.52 During the transitional period, photographic illustrations were reproduced by lithographic printing techniques. The resulting copies inevitably deviated, to various extents, from the original. The problematic nature of photographically illustrated scientific texts is exemplified by Charles Darwin's collaboration with James Crichton Browne and Oscar Gustave Rejlander in the production of The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals (1872). In his study, Darwin turned to the observation of the insane in order to demonstrate his theory that there exists a continuum of modes of expression throughout the animal kingdom. Darwin targeted the insane as representatives of human emotions based on his notion that they experience and exhibit the strongest passions, and  50  Showalter, 29-31. Diamond, 21. 52 Gilman, Seeing the Insane, 177.  51  44  relied heavily on visual material to support his argument.53 His construction of a scientific argument based on photographs of the insane (provided by the psychiatrist and amateur photographer James Crichton Browne) was made possible by the nineteenth century belief that the photograph provided an objective source from which the scientist could make valid and accurate deductions. However, Darwin's correspondence with Browne documents the erosion of his faith in the veracity of photographic illustration. In a chapter on "the erection of the hair in man and animals," Darwin draws upon Browne's photographs of insane patients who manifested this symptom and includes in his study an engraved reproduction of one of these photographs. In a letter to Browne, Darwin noted the discrepancy between the original photograph and the copy: "I have had one of these photographs copied, and the engraving gives, if viewed from a little distance, a faithful representation of the original, with the exception that the hair appears rather too coarse and too much curled."54 Over the course of his research, Darwin also began to realize the need for photographs that would capture fleeting facial expressions - a technical impossibility as high-speed photography was not developed until the 1890s.55 Darwin commissioned the portrait-painter turned popular photographer O.G. Rej lander to produce photographs of specific facial expressions, and reproduced twenty-eight of his photographs in his book.56 Due to the impossibility of instantaneous photography, Rej lander posed his subjects, directing their actions and expressions. These purportedly objective and scientific photographs were thus as deliberately constructed as his more artistic photographs. Indeed, his photograph of a wailing  Gilman, Disease and Representation (London: Cornell UP., 1988) 129-130. Ibid., 131-132. Ibid., 135. Ibid., 137.  45  baby became a popular success with the public: sixty thousand copies of this "scientific" photograph were sold as cartes-de-visites57  IV: The World as Image In his essay "The Decay of Lying," Oscar Wilde states: "external nature imitates Art. The only effects that she can show us are effects that we have already seen through poetry or in paintings."  Given the circulation of photographic images in the latter half of the nineteenth  century, one could argue, along with Wilde, that the image - in particular the photographic image - influenced not only ways of seeing, but also what people could "see." If copies of scientific photographs - such as Rej lander's wailing infant - as well as family portraits pervaded the public market, then in what ways did photographs influence and even dictate the manner in which observers apprehended not only images but also the world around them? A distinctly Victorian "exhibitionary visuality" is often attributed to the rise of the museum. The public space of the museum - in the way it brought together, classified and made visible representatives of different places and categories - provided a visual framework that influenced how visitors conceptually organized, classified and viewed the world outside the walls of the institution. The museum thus functioned to classify and represent objects in particular ways and, in so doing, formed specific conventions of visualization - of arranging, observing and interpreting images and objects of knowledge. This principle of classification acquired considerable currency amongst the public and transcended the parameters of the museum.59 The institution of the public museum thus succeeded not only in providing a space which made objects observable in particular ways, it provided a techmque of observation which 57  Elizabeth Heyert, The Glass House Years, Victorian Portrait Photography 1839-1870 (London: Allanheld and Schram, 1979)134. 58 Oscar Wilde, "The Decay of Lying," Literary Criticism of Oscar Wilde, ed. Stanley Weintraub (Lincoln, U of Nebraska P, 1968)58.  46  could be applied to the world outside the museum walls - to the spaces of British society. The new apparatus of representation - founded upon concepts of classification and display provided a means for conceptualizing and visualizing the world. According to Timothy Mitchell, towards the latter half of the nineteenth century, it had become a characteristic way of perceiving and observing to "render the world up to be viewed"60 as an endless exhibition. The world was organized and grasped as though it were a museum exhibit; consequently, a person's metonymic signification had to be visibly present and legible on the surface of the body in order to be appropriately classified and categorized. I would argue that photographic technologies are inextricably intertwined with exhibitionary spaces. And if the display of the museum influenced how the public categorized people, objects and places outside of the museum walls, then this classificatory schema owed its symbolic resonance to the power of the photographic image. In Fiction in the Age of Photography, Nancy Armstrong argues that the Victorians "knew," and obtained a sense of control over, the material world primarily through images.61 The production of cartes-de-visites and ethnographic, criminological and psychiatric photographs which utilized physiognomic and phrenological discourses resulted in the Victorian public making use of just such photographic techniques of visualization to make the body legible. Thus, despite their frequent inability to receive validation from actual bodies, the visual order produced by these generic images became the "order of things themselves."  Hence, this "extensive and systematic reversal of original  and copy" resulted in a finite number of visual categories achieving the ability to categorize an  Annie E. Coombes, "Museums and the Formation of National and Cultural Identities," Oxford Art Journal 11.2 (1988)61. 60 Timothy Mitchell, "Orientalism and the Exhibitionary Order," in Colonialism and Culture, ed. Nicholas B. Dirks (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1992)292. 61 Nancy Armstrong, Fiction in the Age of Photography: The Legacy of British Realism (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard UP, 1999) 4-5. 62 Ibid., 19.  47  infinity of peoples, objects and locations.63 People saw the world as a photographic image, and understood their place within it according to photography's classificatory schema. If in psychiatric discourse the photographic image supplanted the written account as objective evidence, then in fiction, the image supplanted writing as the optimum referent. According to Armstrong, literary realism's visual descriptions refer not to actual objects, but rather to visual representations of those objects. Fiction at once prefigured and emulated photographic techniques. By the mid 1850s, fiction referred its readers to the world itself by supplying certain kinds of visual information. In this manner, fiction equated seeing with knowing and made visual information the basis of the verbal narrative. Moreover, in order to be realistic, fiction referred to a world that either had been or could be photographed. Photography, in turn, offered images of the world to the same public whom the novelists intended as their readers.64 Thus, while fiction mimicked photographic techniques of representation, it could also refer to people and things that would only later appear in photographs. Fiction and photography authorized each other in a circular relationship.65 My question is, how does this circular relationship, in turn, affect "reality"? For example, how might fictional and visual depictions of disordered eating either derive from or prefigure the medically examined patient? In the following chapter I will delineate how the development of the nineteenth century visual order and photographic mentality coincided with the development of disordered forms of oral consumption and the emergence of anorexia nervosa as a discrete disease. This discussion will, in turn, contribute to an assessment of this question of the interrelationship between literary, visual and medical depictions of disordered eating, which I will apply to an analysis of select works of Victorian children's literature.  Ibid., 22. Ibid., 6. Ibid., 28.  48  Chapter Three The Cultural Significance of Oral Consumption and Disordered Eating in the Victorian Period I: From Saints to Deviants: the Discursive Emergence of Anorexia Nervosa While women have fasted and abstained from food throughout the centuries, it was only in the latter half of the nineteenth century that the medical establishment diagnosed such behaviour as a form of illness. Why the sudden concern to regulate medically and to "cure" a behavioural pattern that, during certain periods, was a sign of spiritual superiority? Foucault's argument about madness can help illuminate similar ruptures in the discourse of anorexia. As I outlined in the first chapter, Foucault has explained how the idea of madness was formulated through the interaction of historically specific social practices. As a result, a history of madness charts not the changing etiology of madness itself, but rather the shifting discursive formations that produce knowledge of madness. As with madness, anorexia nervosa itself does not change - rather what changes are the ways in which we can understand it, statements we can make about it, concepts we can develop concerning it, and disciplinary techniques that can manage it. If, then, a disease such as anorexia is a product of medical discourses that in turn reflect the dominant mode of thinking in a given society, then the understanding of the illness requires an excavation of the culture that produced it. In order to comprehend the particularity of anorexia as a modern disease, I will briefly sketch the historical configuration of food abstinence. During the medieval period, women who starved themselves did so out of a sense of spiritual purpose. They fasted within a religious framework in order to manage the interior self, or the soul. Fasting served as a method of self-denial. Unlike their male counterparts, ascetic women did not possess material status symbols, such as property, which they could reject; they renounced their bodies instead. Eating practices provided a means to express religious ideals,  49  and appetite control in medieval culture had more to do with purifying the spirit than it did with streamlining the body.1 The seventeenth century saw the decline of female fasting as a religious practice and witnessed the emergence of a phenomena that would continue into the early decades of the nineteenth century - that of the "fasting girl." The stories of fasting girls centred around the narrative of a young woman who continued to live despite refusing food for prolonged periods of time. The term "fasting girl" described these cases of prolonged abstinence characterized by the ambiguity surrounding the intention of the faster- and the etiology of the fast. Descriptions of fasting girls provide interesting evidence of the gradual shift in discourses surrounding women and eating. The case of Ann Moore offers a particularly fascinating example of just such a transition between religious and medical discourses on fasting. By the eighteenth century, inexplicable and "miraculous" abstinence from food had become a medical problem to be scientifically investigated by physicians. The case of Ann Moore (1761-1814) first became public in 1807, and was published in book form in 1811. Her "biography" recounts how her first instance of "loathing food" resulted from her attendance upon a man with a "scrophulous complaint."3 Moore transferred her disgust of the rotting, putrid body to food. For Moore, food became the abject object of filth and defilement, and its ingestion threatened to contaminate the consuming subject who must expel it.4 Thus, when Moore ate, she vomited up "a kind of slimy matter, resembling that proceeding from the wounds of the young man."5 Moore turned her inability to eat into a public performance of religious piety. To verify the veracity of Moore's 1  See Caroline Walker Bynum, "Fast, Feast, and Flesh: The Religious Significance of Food to Medieval Women," Representations 11 (1985), 1-25 and Holy Feast and Holy Fast: Food Motifs in the Piety of Medieval Women (Berkeley: U of California P, 1987). 2 Joan Jacobs Brumberg, Fasting Girls: The History of Anorexia Nervosa (N.Y.: Penguin Books, 1989) 61. 3 A Faithful Relation of Ann Moore, ofTutbury, Staffordshire, who For Nearly Four Years, Has, and Still Continues, To Live without any Kind of Food, to which are added Reflections and Observations (Birmingham: R. Peart and Co., 1811)5. 4 See Julia Kristeva, Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection, trans. Leon S. Roudiez (NY.: Columbia UP, 1982).  50  claim to subsist without the consumption of any food, both the clerical establishment and the medical establishment (represented by Robert Taylor of the Royal College of Physicians) instigated an investigation, removing Moore to another house and setting up a "watch." This surveillance consisted of "enemies with which she was surrounded on every side," who constantly observed her for sixteen days and nights, until they established her "innocence" and allowed her to return home.6 In the intervening years between the publication of her story and 1813, Moore received an influx of visitors who made the pilgrimage to Tutbury to witness the spectacle of the fasting girl. In 1813, however, an evangelical rector spearheaded a second investigation. Moore agreed to submit to a month of continual surveillance. During this period, her observers caught Moore's daughter transmitting small morsels of food to her mother by kissing her (and passing the morsels from her mouth to her mother's) and by hiding the morsels in handkerchiefs. On May 4th, 1814, local authorities forced Moore to issue a public statement in which she confessed to being an impostor. After this admission, the public and her own small community shunned her.7 There exist no records of her remaining life. The publication of Moore's story is particularly significant because through it the faster becomes, in a sense, a literary creation and the booklet itself fuses the genres of scientific documentation, religious tract, biography and sensation fiction. The printers published Moore's account - entitled A Faithful Relation of Ann Moore, ofTutbury, Staffordshire, who For Nearly Four Years, Has, and Still Continues, To Live without any Kind of Food, to which are added Reflections and Observations - in the same volume as an equally sensationalized story, A Faithful Account of Catharine Mewis, Of Barton-under-Needwood, Staffordshire, aged 8 years, who Since April 8', 1809, Has been Deprived of her Eye Sight, Six Days out of Seven, And can  5  A Faithful Relation, 5. Ibid., 6-7. 7 Brumberg, 59.  6  51  only See on the Sabbath-Day. These purportedly "faithful" biographies illustrate how a disciplinary society utilizes documentary techniques to make each individual into a "case": an object of power and knowledge. Modern disciplinary methods transform the biography from a procedure of heroization to a method of objectifying and disciplining social deviants.8 Hence, the publication of Moore's story imprisons the faster in a web of written representation and turns her into a commodified image, circulated amongst the public and voraciously consumed by devourers of the sensational.9 Moreover, A Faithful Relation combines verbal and visual representation by including a frontispiece illustration depicting the "fasting girl" (figure 9). This supplementation of the verbal testimony with visual proof- a piece of evidence designed to instill belief in the incredulous - prefigures the photographic illustration of medical texts. The content of the frontispiece is as intriguing as its very presence in the text. It portrays Ann Moore reclining in bed, with her chin propped up thoughtfully by her fingers. The illustrator makes sure to emphasize her sunken cheekbones and shadowed eyes. A large book is open in front of her and a pair of spectacles lie on its open pages. Ann Moore stares directly outward, confronting the viewer with her gaze. The illustration seems to self-reflexively comment on the dynamics of consumption and spectatorship that it seeks to portray. The presence of the book within the picture links the themes of reading - or consuming the written word - and eating - or consuming food. Moore looks away from the text, and her spectacles, or tools of vision, are laid to one side. The implication, then, is that she consumes herself instead of the book and turns her own body into a legible text. Indeed, just as Moore, in abstaining from food devours herself, so do the readers, in viewing the text of her emaciated body, visually participate in her self-consumption. 8  See Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: the Birth of the Prison, trans Alan Sheridan (NY.: Vintage Books, 1977) 191-192. 9 Brumberg recounts that by 1813 American editions of Moore's story circulated on the East coast of the U.S., and a wax-figure of her was on exhibit at the Columbian Museum in Boston (56).  52  The presence of the spectacles indicates the spectacular nature of her fast - it is a performance which requires a viewing audience, a text which requires a reader to complete its meaning. In confronting the viewers with her gaze, Moore problematizes the positioning of the readers as voyeuristic members of the panoptic "watch." Far from the object of surveillance who is seen without seeing, her direct stare implies her full knowledge of, and deliberate participation in, the performance of power and display. For, as her account implies, Moore derived power and pleasure from being the spectacle of another's gaze. In deliberately performing the role of "fasting girl" artd placing herself under the watch of the medical and clerical establishment she achieved a sense of agency, control and identity. Paradoxically, then, by refusing food and turning against her own body, she was able to script her own role, quite literally turning herself into a medical, clerical, and sensational text. Ann Moore's exposition as a fraud demoted her from a miraculous faster to a social deviant. Her meticulous surveillance by both the clergy and medical authorities constitutes a definitive moment in the discursive shift in exceptional eating. Increasingly, instead of being elevated to a semi-divine status, disorderly eaters would be confined within the emerging discipline of psychiatric medicine. The mid-eighteenth century onward witnessed the gradual medicalization of society. The medicalized society was deeply concerned to define not only diseases that could afflict the population but also behaviours that could threaten the social order. Individuals that fell into these categories were segregated and monitored in the new social spaces of the clinic, asylum and prison. According to Elaine Showalter, while all asylum patients were subject to surveillance, women were more vigilantly observed than men.10 Moreover, the female patients were identified as being not only "ill" but also - perhaps more significantly - as somehow social threats. Doctors often described the "insane" women admitted into their  53  asylums as disobedient, rebellious, depressed - in other words, as diverging from conventional expectations of the role of Victorian women.'' In attempting to "cure" their patients, or to render them docile and pliable, asylum superintendents would occupy them with tasks suitable to traditional sex-role behaviour such as sewing, sketching or weaving.12 It is notable that anorexic behaviour was first medically identified among the patients of such insane asylums. A patient's refusal to eat concerned asylum superintendents who, accountable as they were to the public, feared that self-starvation would lead to death and result in a high death rate within the asylum. For this reason, asylum superintendents in both the United States and England scrutinized their food-refusing patients. Early psychiatric medicine classified these patients according to three categories: patients with "morbid appetites" who consumed non-normative food such as chalk, wood, string etc.; those who thought their food was poisoned; and those suffering from "religious monomania" who refused food for religious reasons.13 As asylum psychiatry developed, physicians began to see a wide array of anorexic behaviours that eluded any simplified scheme of categorization. They viewed food refusal as a lack ofjoie-de-vivre commonly found in the mentally disturbed and not as an isolated disease. In order to overcome the patient's attempt at self-starvation, medical officers would resort to forced feeding. This invasive procedure served as a technique of intimidation: asylum doctors more often than not would merely have to present the feeding apparatus, which would so terrify the patient that she would agree to feed herself.14 Because of unpleasant techniques such as force-feeding, and mostly because of the social stigma attached to institutionalization, most families who could afford one preferred to have a 10  Elaine Showalter, "Victorian Women and Insanity," Madhouses, Mad-Doctors, and Madmen: The Social History of Psychiatry in the Victorian Era, ed. Andrew Scull (Philadelphia: Philadelphia UP, 1981) 319 11 Ibid., 324 12 Elaine Showalter, The Female Malady: Women, Madness and English Culture, 1830-1980 (N.Y.: Pantheon Books, 1985) 82. 13 Brumberg, 103.  54  private physician treat their recalcitrant daughter. One such physician was Dr. William Withey Gull (1816-1890). Gull trained in medicine at Guy's Hospital in London. He earned his degree in 1841 and in 1842 obtained an appointment to teach medicine at Guy's Hospital. He continued his studies and in 1846 gained his MD from the University of London. In 1858 he became a full physician and his career from thenceforth steadily rose: he was appointed Lecturer in Medicine at Guy's from 1856-1867, a Fellow of the Royal Society in 1858, President of the Clinical Society from 1871-1872, and a Consulting Physician at Guy's Hospital in 1871. He also served on administrative bodies such as the Senate and the General Medical Council of the University of London. After Gull helped save the Prince of Wales from typhoid fever, Queen Victoria made Gull a baronet in 1872 and, in 1887, appointed him her physician in ordinary.15 Gull first referred to anorexia nervosa - although it was only in 1873 that he called the disease by this name - in an address on clinical medicine at the annual meeting of the British Medical Association at Oxford on August 7th, 1866. In illustrating the need for negative diagnosis - or diagnosing diseases by the presence of certain indicators as opposed to the absence of others - Gull gave the example of diagnosing a stomach condition that he called hysterica apepsia. "We avoid the error," he stated, "of supposing mesenteric disease in young women emaciated to the last degree through hysteric apepsia, by our knowledge of the latter affection, and by the absence of tubercular disease elsewhere."16 In a footnote, Gull writes: "I have ventured to apply this term to the state indicated, in the hope of directing more attention to it."17 Yet it was not until the meeting of the Clinical Society on October 24th, 1873 that Gull once more addressed the topic of emaciated young women. At this meeting, Gull read a paper 14  Ibid., 104. T.D. Acland, ed. A Collection of the Published Writings of William Withey Gull: Memoirs and Addresses (London: The New Sydenham Society, 1894). ix-xxxi 16 William W. Gull, "Clinical Observation in Relation to Medicine in Modem Times." Address delivered at a meeting of the British Medical Association at Oxford, August 7lh, 1868, in Acland, 54. 15  55  entitled "Anorexia Hysterica" which was subsequently published under the title "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)."18 In his address (which I will analyze in detail in the following chapter), Gull mentions the work of the French neurologist Charles Lasegue (1861-1883) who, in an April 1873 publication, discussed what he termed / 'anorexie hysterique. Tellingly, Gull claims that he too had thought of using the term "anorexia" to describe what he had formerly called hysteric apepsia: "in the address at Oxford I used the term Apepsia Hysterica, but before seeing Dr. Lasegue's [sic] paper, it had equally occurred to me that Anorexia would be more correct."19 However, rather than discussing Lasegue's important discoveries, Gull accused his colleague of failing to cite his own 1868 address.20 He also chose a substantially different focus for his own paper; Gull's concern was how to determine that the patient suffered from self-induced starvation as opposed to the actual effects of the disease. Lasegue, conversely, delved into the psychology of the condition and theorized about possible causes for the patient's food refusal. At this point I will outline Lasegue's conclusions on the possible causations oil'anorexie hysterique as a way of introducing a discussion on the social significance of women (not) eating in the Victorian period; I will then return to a close reading of Gull's paper on anorexia nervosa. According to Lasegue, I'anorexie hysterique was a localized hysteria of the gastric center. Lasegue went further than the diagnosis of the disease - he also attempted to discover its psychological origins. He did so by looking at the patient's family dynamics: It must not cause surprise to find me thus always placing in parallel the morbid condition of the hysterical subject and the preoccupations of those who surround her. These two 18  William Gull, "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)," Transactions of the Clinical Society of London 7 (1874) 22-28. 19 William Gull, "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)," Transactions of the Clinical Society of London 7(187r4) 25. 20 Ibid. 21 Charles Lasegue, "On Hysterical Anorexia," Medical Times and Gazette (September 6, 1873) 265-266 and (September 27, 1873) 367-369 (translated from the original French, published in Archives generates de Medecine, April 1873) 265.  56  circumstances are intimately connected, and we should acquire an erroneous idea of the disease by confining ourselves to an examination of the patient. Lasegue defined three stages of illness through which the anorectic passed. The illness most often began between the ages of fifteen and twenty as the result of an emotional cause. Lasegue, based on his experience-with patients, speculated that this cause consisted of some major stress or consistent frustration, such as an impending marriage. In the first stage, the patient starts complaining of discomfort after eating. She begins to gradually reduce her food, excusing her lack of appetite with pretexts of headaches, or pain after eating. Sometimes the anorectic would develop a sudden predilection for a certain type of food and would eat nothing else until she eventually stopped eating even this one item. In this first stage, the patient's gradual starvation is accompanied by physical hyperactivity: "abstinence tends to. increase the aptitude for movement. The patient feels more light and active, rides on horseback, receives and pays visits, and is able to pursue a fatiguing life in the world."24 Family life now revolves around the daughter; she is the center of attention as members employ various tactics in the attempt to persuade her to eat: The family has but two methods at its service which it always exhausts - entreaties and menaces - and which both serve as a touchstone. The delicacies of the table are multiplied in the hope of stimulating the appetite; but the more solicitude increases, the more the appetite diminishes. The patient disdainfully tastes the new viands, and after having thus shown her willingness, holds herself absolved from any obligation to do more. She is besought, as a favor, and as a sovereign proof of affection, to consent to add even an additional mouthful to what she has taken; but this excess of insistence begets the excess of resistance.25 Lasegue's description of the family drama that unfolds around the dinner table illuminates the relations of eating, and how inextricably intertwined they are with the relations of familial and social power. Clearly, food can serve as a means of coercion - as a method of bending and  Ibid., 368. Ibid., 266.  .  5  7  manipulating others to one's will. Here, the refusal to obey and to eat become metaphorically identical. The daughter's abstinence is designed to elicit family concern, sympathy, attention, and injunctions to eat. Thus, she is quite literally starving for attention. In then rejecting her parents' culinary overtures, she hopes to reverse the power positions, at once establishing her own autonomy and enthralling her family through her persistent refusal of food. In the second stage of hysterical anorexia, the patient's illness intensifies. Here, the careful observation of the physician gives way to the constant surveillance by family and friends. Lasegue's description of the patient being surrounded by "a kind of atmosphere from which there is no escape" 26 reminds one of Ann Moore's vigilant "watch." The anorectic revels in her position of power and, although she daily becomes weaker, is "not ill-pleased with her condition."  During this stage, the patient agrees to join her family at meals, but on her own  terms, which most often means being visible though not eating. She thus turns her abstention into a highly visible and structured performance that she forces her family to witness. In the third and final stage, the patient deteriorates to the point where any physical exercise is "laborious" and she must spend most of her time lying down.  Only at this point do  the fears and concerns of her family have any effect on the girl. She begins to consider death a possibility and, according to Lasegue, it is only at this point that "her self-satisfied indifference receives a shock" and her fears make her amenable to treatment by the physician.29 Although Lasegue claimed never to have witnessed a patient die from hysterical anorexia, he emphasized that self-induced starvation by young women was "too often observed to be a mere exceptional occurrence."30  26  Ibid., 367. "Ibid. 28 Ibid., 368. 29 Ibid.  58  II: Middle-class Women and Food in Victorian Society What was it about the situation of the young Victorian woman and the crucible of the middle-class family that caused the emergence of this distinctly modern disease? The female adolescent coming of age in the latter half of the nineteenth century would not only have to cope with the usual vagaries of puberty but would have to do so within a decidedly conflicted ideological framework. While trying to formulate one's gender identity can be difficult at the best of times, when social roles are in the process of mutation, negotiating one's social identity becomes fraught with anxiety. An acute uneasiness surrounded conceptions of the female body and its signification as Victorians attempted to deal with a tumultuous period of social change and shifting gender roles. The works of men such as Coventry Patmore and John Ruskin gave rise to and sustained the ideology of the enshrined woman - manifest in the cult of domesticity and the ideal of feminine purity. Patmore's "The Angel in the House" - first published from 1854-1861 and reprinted frequently throughout the remaining decades of the century - became a rallying cry for those who feared the nascent emancipatory movement. Its ideology called on women to display purity, sympathy and selflessness. It painted an ideal image of hearth and home wherein the dutiful and de-sexualized wife served and supported the husband.  Similarly, Ruskin sought to  subvert emancipatory simmerings by reinforcing the doctrine of separate spheres. Accordingly, in his 1867 essay "Of Queens' Gardens," he offered what proved to many a seductive portrayal of ideal domestic harmony. His essay posits that the separate spheres arise from the intrinsically separate natures of men and women, who are inherently public and private beings. Ruskin thus offered a vision of the ideal pre-lapsarian woman, embowered within the sphere of the home - a "helpmate" who evinces "true wifely subjection." The home, as well, holds a "natural," and Ibid., 265.  59  therefore stable, identity as "a vestal temple, a temple of the hearth watched over by the Household Gods."  Psychiatrist Andrew Wynter recognized, in his writings on insanity, the  extent to which the constraints of the female role produced female mental illness. In The Borderlands of Insanity, published in 1875, he states that: Within these last twenty years the railway may be said to have driven female society farther and farther into the country. The man goes forth to his labour in the morning and returns in the evening, leaving his wife, during the whole of her day, to her own devices... what have our wives to do, especially the childless ones, under the present miserable views as regards their education?... May we not ask if some recruitment for the woman's mind is not required after the humdrum housekeeping labours for the day are accomplished?... the great cure... is a good intellectual training for women. Wynter's call for educational opportunities for women echoes John Stuart Mill's incendiary attempt to undermine the notion of the natural separation of the spheres by arguing that any division occurs, not from nature, but from "differences in education and circumstance."34 If the "cure" for the malaise of women lay in intellectual training, then a step towards recuperation was taken by Frances Mary Buss who, in founding the first public day school for girls in 1870, advanced the development of educational facilities for women.35 The growth of educational opportunities was just one facet of the emancipatory movement that included minor revolutions such as the Matrimonial Causes Act of 1857 and the Married Women's Property Bills of 1870,1874 and 1882.36 The multi-faceted movement towards liberating women from their domestic confines worked to interrogate the gender status quo and threatened to erode the carefully maintained binaric division between men and women.  31  Coventry Patmore 's "The Angel in the House". http://www.rothpoem/duk ckdp.html. John Ruskin, "Of Queens' Gardens," Sesame and Lilies, 8th ed. (1867; Kent: George Allen, 1887) 115, 135, 137. 33 Andrew Wynter, "The Constraints of the Female Role," The Borderlands of Insanity (London: Robert Hardwicke, 1875) 59-63, reprinted in Madness and Morals: Ideas on Insanity in the Nineteenth Century, ed. Vieda Skultans (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975) 236-237. 34 John Stuart Mill, The Subjection of Women, ed. Susan M. Okin (1869; Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 1988) 22. 35 Fraser Harrison, The Dark Angel: Aspects of Victorian Sexuality (London: Sheldon Press, 1977) 69. 36 Ibid., 8, 69. 32  60  In the face of this imminent erosion, women increasingly became the subject of medical control and regulation. With the increase in medical control came the increase in the varieties of women's illness as well as the number of middle- and upper-class women who fell prey to illness, there arose the amorphous but pervasively powerful notion of "female complaints" nervous disorders linked to somehow dysfunctional sexual organs. These "disorders" included, among others, ailments such as headaches, pelvic disorders, nervousness and irregular appetite.37 Sally Shuttleworth has documented the process whereby both medical writers and "quack practitioners" - via their ubiquitous advertisements - participated in the social construction of popular images of womanhood that emphasized women's subjection to the menstrual cycle.38 However, the same could also be stated of the extent to which medical literature and advertisements helped to fabricate notions surrounding women and appetite. It is important to note that in both cases, the "disciplinary power" was not centered in or limited to these medical discourses; rather it permeated throughout society. In fact, women internalized these discourses, monitoring their own bodily functions, regulating their own appetites. The regulation of bodily functions and appetites was at its most stringent when a girl reached the age of puberty - or the period in which individuals were supposed to assume appropriately gendered roles. Advice manuals and etiquette booklets advised mothers that once their daughter began to menstruate, it was incumbent upon them to carefully control her diet.39 Diet-related illnesses such as dyspepsia (indigestion) and chlorosis (anemia), which often afflicted females, were thought to be related to an imbalance in the menstrual cycle. In this  Ann Douglas Wood, " 'The Fashionable Diseases': Women's Complaints and their Treatment in Nineteenth Century America," Journal of Interdisciplinary History 4.1 (Summer 1973) 28. 38 Sally Shuttleworth, "Female Circulation: Medical Discourse and Popular Advertising in the Mid-Victorian Era," in Body/Politics: Women and the Discourses of Science, ed. Mary Jacobus, Evelyn Fox Keller and Sally Shuttleworth (N.Y.: Routledge, 1990) 47-68. 39 Deborah Gorham, The Victorian Girl and the Feminine Ideal (London: Croom Helm, 1982) 87.  61  sense, then, a woman's sexuality and a woman's diet were directly correlated and the act of oral consumption assumed both a digestive and a sexual meaning.40 Society had a vested interest in maintaining the discursive construction of the female invalid: not only did the idea of women's inherent weakness and debility stave off anxieties surrounding the threat of female emancipation, but also the medical, pharmaceutical and advertising industries had a monetary interest in promulgating the notion of female sickness. Such discourse operated upon the assumption that if women were told they were sick, they would be sick and then they would invest in marketable products designed to cure their ailments - phantom or otherwise. The Victorian era then witnessed the commodification of illness - in particular "illnesses" surrounding oral consumption. Women were assailed with visual images in the form of advertisements that urged them to consume certain pharmaceutical products in order to rectify their own disordered consumption. For example, a single issue of The Graphic explodes with a plethora of advertisements directly related to eating disorders.41 The Victorian reader would have been visually assaulted with injunctions to consume Ekyn 's Neuralgic Pills; Norton's Pills for Indigestion; Ivory Jelly: Invaluable for Invalids, Having supported Life for Weeks when no other Food could be taken; or Phthisicon Emulsion for Consumption and Wasting Diseases. Products such as Allen & Hanbury 's Food and Du Barry's Revelenta claimed to offer a food substitute that would - in curing ailments from dyspesia, to indigestion, to nervousness, to consumption, to neuralgia - not only eradicate such illnesses, but also dispense with the act of eating altogether. In replacing food with a "very Digestible - Nutritious - Palatable - Satisfying - Excellent in Quality - Perfectly Free from Grit - Requires Neither Boiling nor Straining - Made in a Minute" 40  Hillel Schwartz, Never Satisfied: A Cultural History of Diets, Fantasies and Fat (NY.: The Free Press, 1986) 5051. 41 1 use the term "eating disorders" in its broadest possible sense to designate any kind of somatic discomfort associated with oral consumption.  62  product one could avoid the medical and social implications and repercussions of eating. Eating, per say, would become unnecessary.42 These products were, moreover, as ubiquitous as their advertised images which circulated amongst the Victorian public; as Allen & Hanbury 's claims, they can be found "EVERYWHERE."43 What we see here is a complex dynamic involving various types of consumption: the visual consumption of advertised image urging commodity consumption of products designed to facilitate, or even replace, the act of oral consumption. Intertwined with the image of the under-consumer was the image of the over-consumer. Medical and advice literature circulated representations of females with morbid appetites. These women would voraciously consume anything and everything: chalk, wax, coal, dirt, bugs.44 Such appetite for bizarre "foods," or even for meat and spicy, pungent foods, was conceived as a sign not only of uncontrolled sexuality, but of a coarse or "lower class" nature.45 In Elizabeth Gaskell's Wives and Daughters, Hyacinth Gibson serves as a representative of the middle-class Victorian woman who tries to manipulate her social identity through oral consumption. Once she marries the town doctor, Mrs. Gibson attempts to elevate her social status within the community by "aping the manners of the aristocracy as far as she knew them."46 Her primary means of performing the role of the genteel lady is by controlling what she does and does not consume. In this manner, she quickly prohibits her new stepdaughter Molly and Dr. Gibson's proclivity for eating cheese, as cheese is "a coarse kind of thing... only fit for the kitchen," and encourages the consumption of "elegant" trifles and "dainties."47 Mealtimes transcend their practical function of assuaging hunger as they become elaborate artistic presentations. Food transforms from fuel to status symbol. To this end, when Lady Harriet unexpectedly drops in at 42  Quotation from advertisement for Allen & Hanbury's Food in The Graphic, January 2nd, 1886. 23. Ibid. 44 Marion Harland, Eve's Daughters; or. Common Sense for Maid, Wife and Mother (Farmingdale, N.Y.: 1885; reprinted., 1978)111-113. 45 Helena Michie, The Flesh Made Word: Female Figures and Women's Bodies (Oxford: Oxford UP., 1987) 17. 46 Elizabeth Gaskell, Wives and Daughters, ed. Pam Morris (1866; London: Penguin Classics, 1996) 236. 43  , 63  lunch hour and asks for "a little bread and butter, and perhaps a slice of cold meat," Mrs. Gibson discreetly arranges for the dinner items to be put out under the guise of their regular luncheon fare: "the brace of partridges that were to have been for the late dinner were instantly put down to the fire; and the prettiest china put out, and the table decked with flowers and fruit."48 Even if those at table consist only of herself and Molly, Mrs. Gibson insists on maintaining the performance in order to impress upon the servant the difference in station: "It's no extravagance, for we need not eat it - 1 never do. But it looks well, and makes Maria [the servant] understand what is required in the daily life of every family of position."49 While Mrs. Gibson insists on laying out an elaborate meal, she herself refrains from partaking anything but the tiniest morsel, in so doing performing the role of the delicately genteel lady of leisure. When everyone else is "merry and hungry" she refrains from eating, "trying to train her midday appetite into the genteelest of all ways."50 This performance is inherently public: Mrs. Gibson's eating only has significance if witnessed and interpreted by an observing audience well versed in the social symbolism of oral consumption. She starves herself in front of others, publicly displaying her apparent self-control for the benefit of her fellow communers. When lunching at the Towers, although she is "desperately hungry" and "longfs] to eat," she sends away her untouched plate professing that she never eats meat in the middle of the day and can "hardly eat anything at lunch."51 Although, like Mrs. Gibson, many Victorian women abstained from eating in public, in private they would secretly feed their desperate hunger, binging on "forbidden foods": It is not that they absolutely starve themselves to death, for many of the most abstemious . at the open dinner are the most voracious at the secret luncheon. Thus the fastidious dame whose gorge rises before company at the sight of a single pea, will on the sly 47  Ibid., 128, 177. Ibid., 359, 360. 49 Ibid., 498. 50 Ibid., 325. 51 Ibid., 275, 276. 48  '  64  swallow cream tarts by the dozen, and caramels and chocolate drops by the pound's weight.52 Similarly, secluded from the other members of the Towers' garden party, Mrs. Gibson devours Molly's untouched plate of food. She eats hurriedly, "as if she was afraid of some one coming to surprise her in the act."53 Such behavioural patterns pass from the mother to the daughter. In this vein, Mrs. Gibson's daughter Cynthia learns from her mother to use food as a manipulable symbol of social power. To this end, while frequenting a card party she abstains from eating the proffered food as a sign of her feminine sophistication. She only reluctantly accepts a single macaroon after enduring prolonged entreaties from the smitten Roger.54 Women thus inhabited a paradoxical arid conflicted position. To possess abundant and elegant foods was a sign of class status, to be , offered sweet dainties a sign of gender status, but to reject food both a class and gender imperative. Moreover, women had to deal with such contradictory demands in the realm of visual representation as well as in "reality." Not only did they have to be tempted by and then reject (or accept only a single) macaroon, but a woman could, for example, be given a Valentine depicting a succulent green apple and bearing the message "apple sauce for my Valentine" and then receive a Christmas card with the injunction "Fair Girl be warned/When Christmas/ Comes/Reject that pudding/Stuffed with/Plums" (Figures 10 and 11). 55 While women were subject to injunctions to control their appetites, men were free to consume at their pleasure. Indeed, if tightly regulated consumption was a sign of femininity, then unregulated and liberal consumption was a sign of masculinity. While medical literature, etiquette manuals, and even gift cards taught the young woman to moderate her appetite, the 52  The Bazar Book of Decorum (N.Y.: Harper & Brothers, 1871) 193. Gaskell, 17. . 54 Ibid., 242. ' 55 These examples of Victorian gift cards were obtained from the online collection "The Scrap Album: Victorian Greeting Cards, Valentines and Scraps" http://www.scrapalbum.com 53  65  young man learned that consumption was a sign of robust masculinity. Walter Crane's children's reader Pothooks and Perseverance: or the ABC Serpent (1886), in attempting to make practicing penmanship entertaining, provides the young (ostensibly male) reader with a guide to performing masculinity. The story features a young boy, Percy Vere, who literally pens, or scripts himself an identity as a questing knight who ventures forth into the dangerous world, conquering various obstacles. What is notable about the story is not only its overt depiction of masculine role-playing but the inclusion of oral consumption as an essential component of performing the male role. To this end, the verse describes how Percy works up an appetite after his various adventures: Coming up again with a Capital appetite,/after a long course of pothooks and/ hangers, he is transported to find it is/dinner-time, feeling ready for any Amount.56 For a young man, having a good appetite - even an insatiable appetite - is an essential component of gender performance. Not only must Percy quest and conquer, he must eat. If we follow Lasegue's statement that the causes of a patient's self-starvation can be traced not only to the patient but to the preoccupations of those surrounding her, we need to examine not only the medical and cultural discourses surrounding women and eating, but also the crucible of the middle-class family. Ruskin's description of the family hearth as a place of sanctity and refuge aptly expresses the Victorian ideal of the middle-class family. The establishment of the domestic sphere as separate and insulated from the outside world became the literal and metaphoric basis for social order and stability. The family home stood metonymically for the nucleus of the state; consequently, the weakening of domestic order would necessarily result in the deterioration of the state.57 Social and political discourse thus framed the family as a protectively isolated institution. Medical literature contributed to this 56  Walter Crane, Pothooks and Perseverance: or the ABC Serpent (Marcus Ward & Co.: 1886) 13.  =  -  .  •  •  66  framing by producing a conception of the family as a biological unit in which the hereditary characteristics as well as the values of the parents were inexorably transmitted to the minds and bodies of the children.58 Out of a need to maintain the institution of the family, and out of fears of its disintegration, the parent-child relationship became one of constant observation and excessive interaction. The discursive emergence of children's sexuality prompted parents to intrude into all aspects of their children's lives, carefully controlling not only diet, but inspecting their bowel movements, quantifying time spent in physical activities such as horseback riding and prolonged sitting, and regulating intellectual pursuits such as the amount of time spent studying or types of materials read. In effect, parents could infringe in every aspect of their child's life under the pretext of concern for their sexual well-being.59 Victorian children were also subject to pressures relating to their parents' social ambitions. They were expected to form profitable marriage alliances and, if male, to enhance the family fortunes.60 What made these pressures so insidious and difficult to deal with was the fact that they were exerted, not through disciplinary authority, but rather through the new discipline of love. Etiquette handbooks encouraged parents to employ the power of love in forming compliant and obedient children. Such a love ethic could run to possessive and manipulative extremes, rendering not only disobedience but also the maturation process of establishing an independent identity difficult if not traumatic.61 The upholding of sex roles in children, especially daughters, came both to mirror and to produce the desired sense of family stability and impermeability. In fact, this ideology of stability and impermeability relied heavily on the daughter's role. As the daughter entered 57  Lynda Nead, Myths of Sexuality: Representations of Women in Victorian Britain (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1988) 32. 58 Stephen Kem, "Explosive Intimacy: Psychodynamics of the Victorian Family," History of Childhood Quarterly (Winter 1974) 439. 59 Ibid., 453-454. 60 Ibid., 457.  67  adolescence she found herself, however reluctantly, performing the requisite role of the enshrined, languishing woman. The emphasis placed on the female body as being sexually pure and dependent upon the male for protection and support resulted in the (un)conscious attempt to arrest development. Hence, the predominant cult of female frailty and invalidism and the prevalence of eating restrictions. Eating could, however, also serve as a means of rebelling against this ordained role. Disorderly eating - or eating the wrong things in the wrong way - could be a way of manipulating established regulations in order to protest against their necessity. Because the body became symbolic of the confinement of the daughter's external surroundings, the daughter could express her discontent with her role and familial/social limitations by turning against her own body, and in seeking to escape her flesh, hope to break free of more amorphous constraints. Facing injunctions to be silent and docile, the daughter could turn to her body as a medium of expression, as a silent voicing of all that she was compelled to leave unsaid. She could thus utilize her body as a blank page whereupon she scripted her insidious thoughts and desires, hoping that the visible wound of her wasting (or expanding) flesh would serve as testimony to the invisible festering of her wounded psyche. The semiotics of such a scripting would be easily readable and interpretable by the Victorian family. In families where food was abundant, participating in a meal was a highly symbolic performance. The refusal to play one's designated part signified the refusal to abide by familial and social conventions. The rebellious daughter therefore found herself with a readily available network of coded signification with which she could construct her own meaning - one that others would inevitably "read." How does medical literature read and interpret the text of the anorexic body? To what extent does disordered eating emerge out of a distinctly nineteenth century visual order? The  61  Ibid., 445-447.  68  following chapter examines Dr. William Gull's medical documents "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)" (1874) and "Anorexia Nervosa" (1888). These documents illustrate the significant imbrication of new technologies of vision and observation and contemporary preoccupations surrounding women's bodies and eating. Indeed, Gull's work suggests that during the Victorian period visual and oral consumption became linked in complex and important ways.  69  Chapter Four William Gull's "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica. Anorexia Hysterica)" and the Politics of Health  I: Physical and Moral Health and Techniques of Observation in the Writings of William Gull The growing demand for individual and family health care and the concomitant development of the "private consultation," practiced by physicians such as William Gull, cannot be separated from the concurrent organization of a "politics of health," and the consideration of disease as a political and economic problem in which the imperative of health became the duty and the objective of everyone.1 In this emerging medicalized society, medicine functioned as a means of social control, whereby medical prescriptions related not only to disease, but also to more general forms of existence and behaviour.2 This medicalization of society instituted a movement for "sanitary reform." Sanitary reform harnessed theories of disease that conflated physical health and cleanliness with moral health and cleanliness and, by extension, ill health and physical dirtiness with a diseased and impure moral state. Hence, the doctrines of moral disease and moral management, which understood disease as deviance from socially acceptable forms of behaviour and, in the hopes of producing orderly and docile citizens, replaced physical restraint with disciplinary surveillance.4 In sanitarian thought, preventing disease and implementing bodily health necessitated constant and ever-vigilant surveillance - a surveillance that held, as its aim, the institution of order and  1  Michel Foucault, "The Politics of Health in the 18th Century," in Power/Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other Writings, 1972-1977, ed. Colin Gordon (NY.: Pantheon Books, 1980) 166, 170. 2 Ibid., 175-176. 3 Alison Bashford, Purity and Pollution: Gender, Embodiment and Victorian Medicine (London: Macmillan, 1998) 1. 4 Elaine Showalter, The Female Malady: Women, Madness and English Culture, 1830-1980 (NY.: Pantheon Books, 1985)29-31.  70  regulation. Sanitation measures involved not only the removal of dirt but also the implementation of order because disorder was tantamount to disease.5 The discourse of sanitary reform was particularly vigilant in its monitoring of domestic space for, according to this discourse, a disordered home was a diseased home. As R.J. Mann stipulated in his guide on household management: "disorder and disease are now used as words that mean the same thing."6 As the home became the site of medical surveillance and management, the institutional space of the clinic and asylum infiltrated the private sphere of the home - the boundary between monitored public space and secluded private space became distinctly permeable, allowing an osmotic diffusion between outside and inside. The medical examination - most often conducted either in the home of the patient or in the home of the physician - exemplified this collapsing of institutional and domestic space and brought into play the techniques of observation so central to the policing of physical and moral health and social order. The medical exam illustrates Foucault's delineation of the processes of hierarchical observation and normalizing judgment. The observing doctor rendered his patients visible and knowable both through his omniscient gaze and through instruments such as the microscope, lens and photographic apparatus. Such observation, in turn, functioned to aid in the diagnosis of the patient, thus rendering her classifiable and, ultimately, recuperable. Finally, the medical exam situated the individual within an archive of written documents that recorded and fixed her identity, thus transforming her into a "case." The writings of William Withey Gull give evidence to the discursive proliferation of such notions as physical health as moral health, and techniques of observation. In the Harveian Oration, which Gull delivered at the Royal College of Physicians in London on June 24th, 1870,  5 6  Bashford, 19. R. J. Mann, Domestic Economy and Household Science (London: Edward Stanford, 1878) 256.  71  he raises the question of "whether man is altogether an object of scientific study or not."7 He thus addresses the topic of the individual or, more specifically, the body, as an object to be surveyed, studied, and examined. According to Gull, doctors, as well as all citizens, have a social duty to "blot out all diseases of whatever kind" in order to prevent "an evil fester in society." This line of thought thus suggests that the individual's body affects the social body and that to control the social body, one must first exert control over the individual body "society should work thus to protect itself."9 The medical doctor then assumes the role of panopticon, bound to cure not only the body, but to monitor and cure the conscience as well: The student of medicine cannot so limit himself. The facts of sensation, whether pleasurable or painful; the influence of the mental emotions, whether exciting or depressing; the dominion of the conscience, approving or disapproving, are for him facts due to the operation of laws into which he must enquire.10 Gull, then, subscribed to the discourse of sanitary reform, which stipulates that to cleanse the body of ill health is to cleanse society of moral evils. Indeed, Gull viewed medicine as extending beyond the institutional confines of the hospital - pervading throughout all niches of society in its ever-vigilant quest to examine, diagnose, and eliminate disease. In the ideal workings of medicine, the monitoring gaze of the physician would be internalized not only by the patients, but also by the physicians themselves, as everyone would study the workings of both their bodily and moral state: The study of medicine is liberal and unfettered. It ranges through human nature and into nature in general. It looks at man in every aspect, and has this great collateral advantage for its followers, that, in pursuing it, they are learning something of themselves... the laws of human health in its widest significance are part of the laws of moral and intellectual life.11  7  William Gull, The Harveian Oration. Delivered at the Royal College of Physicians, London, June 24, 1870 (London: Churchill and Sons, 1870) 9. 8 Ibid., 39-40. 9 Ibid., 41. 10 Ibid., 49-50. 11 Gull, "On the Study of Medicine, An Address delivered at Guy's Hospital, October 1874," reprinted from The British Medical.Journal, 2 (1874) 425 in Acland, vol. 2, 108.  72  Gull's writings further suggest that disease was not only a condition of bodily malfunction, but also an abnormal and unconventional state of behaviour, a revolt of being against "normality": Disease is not now regarded as some independent entity in the body, but as a perversion of those essential life conditions which, when normal, constitute the state of health. n The individual body was a microcosm of the social body, thus a disordered and diseased individual signified a disordered and diseased society, and to cure the one was to maintain the stability and security of the other. Such a process of diagnosis and rehabilitation necessitated the identification and separation of the "normal" from the "abnormal" and the elimination of the latter: [Medicine is] the crusade against the powers of evil which is inaugurated in this [Guy's] and in other hospitals year after year.... The study of medicine, I have said, it is difficult to limit. The ancients called the human body the microcosm, and the outer world the macrocosm; in fact one world within another.... The whole art of medicine is to know and to act upon these relations so as to favour what is favourable and exclude the contrary.13 Central to this activity of separation and exclusion was the process of observation: I am far from believing he is the best observer who records the greatest number of facts; but he who has the perception which enables him to separate the chaff from the wheat what is essential from what is accidental.14 Gull encouraged the use of technological and optical devices in medical practice, and shared the contemporary belief in the objectivity of these methods of observing and recording data. Yet, as stated in the introductory chapter, he also stressed the infallible prominence of the "unassisted eye" as the primary means of perception: As the method of your studies is objective, ifrequires no arguments to prove what advantages may be gained by the use of those instruments which aid the senses; the microscope, the thermometer, and the sphygmograph. You will naturally avail yourself of these and of all such other means as may further exact observation; at the same time,  Gull, "Address as President of the Clinical Society, 1872" in Acland, vol.2, 93. Gull, "On the Study of Medicine," 111,114. 14 Gull, "Address as President of the Clinical Society, 1871," in Acland, vol. 2, 86. 13  73  do not fail to educate the unaided senses. Their educational susceptibility it would be difficult to limit. See all you can by the unassisted eye or the common lens... 15 Theodore Dyke Acland's biographical account of Gull fixates on the physician's powers of observation, in a process of heroization endowing Gull with an almost omnipotent and omniscient gaze.16 The biographer remarks that Gull "brought into play the keenest power of observation" and comments on "his striking presence, his searching scrutiny, his minute and deliberate examination of every case."' 7  II: Observing the Anorectic: The Discursive Construction of Anorexia Nervosa Gull's report on anorexia nervosa illustrates how the medical examination of the anorectic harnessed these discourses of observation and moral management. Gull provides details of three separate "cases" of anorexia nervosa as indicative of most examples of the disease. Gull's studies serve to transform each of the women into a "case" by introducing the individuals into the field of documentation - situating them in an archive of written documents that records arid fixes their identity. In this vein, he strips the women of their names and identity, fixing them with the impersonal and classificatory labels "Miss A" and "Miss B" and "Miss C." Moreover, even as they are individuated by their labels, the women are rendered into "types" as with Galton's composite photographic portraits of criminals, they become "fair examples of the whole."10 Gull's case studies consist of measurements of weight, height, pulse, and respiration, as well as records of bodily functions such as constipation and urinary activity. Significantly, these cases lack any trace of the patient's own voice and testimony. Gull seems to  15  Gull, "On the Study of Medicine," 122. This heroization of the physician somewhat complicates Foucault's idea that in a disciplinary society the biographical description of the individual is transformed from a means of heroization to a procedure of control and objectification. In this instance, the physician is written up as a "case" just a he transformed his patients into documented case studies; however, as an agent of social policing, he is heroized, unlike the policed subjects who are objectified. 17 Acland, vol. 2, xv, xvi. 18 Gull, "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)," Transactions of the Clinical Society of London 1874, 22. 16  74  be more interested in what the body states than in what the patient might have to say. The body then becomes the patient's voice and somatic signifiers her only means of expression. The only narrative voice that appears in these cases is the mother's. In the case of "Miss B" Gull reports the mother's statement "she is never tired."19 The presence of the mother's testimony in place of the daughter's illustrates how the physician treated the patient as a child or nonentity, turning to the parental figure for information. In these "case studies" the patient's voice is erased, her body interpreted by mother and physician. These verbal case "portraits" are supplemented by visual portraits in the form of woodcut "fac-similes" of original photographs. As in criminological and psychiatric practices, visual and verbal descriptions work alongside each other to transform the body into an observable, measurable, classifiable and legible text. The discourses of feminine frailty and of hysteria contribute to Gull's diagnostic construction of anorexia nervosa. As mentioned in the previous chapter, during the nineteenth century women became the subject of medical regulation, and medical writers participated in the construction and perpetuation of the physically frail and mentally and emotionally irrational woman. Gull subscribes to and promulgates the notion that women were inherently more prone to illness and disorders than men. Even though he admits that he "has occasionally seen it in males," Gull ignores any male cases of anorexia and diagnoses it as a distinctly female condition, afflicting women "chiefly between the ages of sixteen and twenty-three."20 Gull uses the discourse of female irrationality to provide an explanation for this state of emaciation with no apparently physiological origin. To this end, he concludes that "the want of appetite is, I believe, due to a morbid mental state... that mental states may destroy appetite is notorious, and it will be admitted that young women at the ages named are specially obnoxious to mental perversity." In addition, although Gull rejects the description hysterica, he suggests that the condition can be 19 20  21  Ibid., 24. Ibid., 22. Ibid., 25.  75  considered as hysterical: "we might call the state hysterical without committing ourselves to the etymological value of the word, or maintaining that the subjects of it have the common symptoms of hysteria."22 In so doing, Gull succeeds in distinguishing his own work from that of his rival, Charles Lasegue, discovering and diagnosing a "new" disease, and explaining the disease by resorting to familiar conceptions surrounding female nervous complaints - complaints that were, in turn, attributed to women's inherent biological weakness and irrationality. The discourse of sanitarian reform influenced Gull's diagnosis of "disease" and the methods he prescribes for curing the anorexic patients of their illness. In his diagnosis and treatment of anorexia, Gull draws upon the discourse of moral insanity and moral management. He defines anorexia, not as a physiological disease but as deviance from socially acceptable behaviour. For example, he cites as a sign of a diseased state the "restlessness" of the patients. Miss A "was restless and active," Miss B exhibited "a peculiar restlessness," and Miss C was "anxious to overdo herself bodily and mentally" and exhibited a "great restlessness."23 Miss A additionally displayed a "peevishness of temper" and "a feeling of jealousy"; likewise, Miss C degenerated from "a nice, plump, good-natured little girl" to someone "loquacious and obstinate."24 Gull fails to consider possible sources for these obvious expressions of discontent and malaise, only observing and recording this evidence of lack of conformity to proper feminine codes of behaviour. In order to "cure" his patients, Gull adopted psychiatric methods of treating insanity: "the treatment required," he writes, "is obviously that which is fitted for persons of unsound mind."  He focused on reinstilling in them normative behavioural patterns -  controlling the restless activity and feeding the patients at regular intervals. In both instances, the will of the physician is imposed on that of the patient, for "the inclination of the patient must  Ibid., 23, 24, 26. Ibid., 23, 27. Ibid., 26.  76  in no way be consulted."  "Wilful patients" could be rendered docile and obedient by "placing  them under different moral conditions." He advised that the young women should be sent away from the home and placed under anonymous or impersonal surveillance: "surrounded by persons who would have moral control over them; relations and friends being generally the worst attendants."27 In removing his patients from the home, Gull follows the prescription for rehabilitating the insane. The psychiatrist George Man Burrows, for example, propounds the benefits of what he terms "separation and seclusion" in the treatment of the insane: In a strange place, attended by those equally strange, and whom he has never been accustomed to command, and confided to the direction of a competent medical attendant, a moral influence over the patient is readily established, to which he usually readily submits; and a cure may then be expected, which never otherwise can be accomplished.28 This process of exerting moral control over the patient and rendering her docile through surveillance is extended to the use of photographic techniques. Gull's photographs of the anorexic patients illustrate how, in a disciplinary regime, "the codified power to punish turns into the disciplinary power to observe."  By including photographs of his patients in a state of  illness and in a state of health, Gull makes use of the convention of "before and after" representations, which depicted the process of the normalization of deviant behaviour. Just as Thomas Barnardo commissioned photographs which claimed to represent "savage" young vagrants as they arrived at the Home, and the "civilized" obedient and diligent workers they became after subject to institutional scrutiny and training, and just as Dr. Hugh Welch Diamond used these photographic conventions to identify, observe and render manageable and self-  26  Ibid., 24. Ibid., 26. 28 George Man Burrows, Commentaries on Insanity (London: Underwood, 1828) 696-697 in Vieda Skultans, ed., Madness and Morals: Ideas on Insanity in the Nineteenth Century (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1975) 128129. 29 Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish, 213. 27  77  surveying the insane, so too does Gull use such techniques of observing and recording to diagnose, define and manage the rebellious anorectic. The "before and after" photographs of the anorexic women make use of psychiatric and visual conventions for portraying insane or somehow socially aberrant women. As we have seen with Diamond's photographs, while women who interrogated or transgressed normative codes of gender behaviour were deemed sick or insane, at the same time, sick or insane women were depicted as transgressing gender norms. Gull, like his psychiatric colleague, used the photograph to impose cultural stereotypes of femininity on women who defied their gender roles. His pictures chart the patient's progression from illness to health as a movement from gender deviance to gender conformity. Miss A, No. 1, depicts the patient with her head askance, tilted downward and to one side - as if unwilling to hold it up for the view of the recording lens, a "peevish" smirk on her lips. Her hair is pulled carelessly back and held in a net, a clump has escaped and hangs down the left side of her face. She wears a simple blouse fastened by a cameo pin. In Miss A, No. 2, the patient has lost the appearance of emaciation. She has lost, as well, the peevish smirk of the previous photograph. She now smiles with calm pleasantness, head held upright, docilely posed for the camera. An elaborate coif, complete with two heavy ringlets neatly framing her face, replaces her simple hairstyle. While she still wears the cameo, it is now fastened to a ribbon and adorns a much richer dress than that worn in the previous photo (figure 12). Similarly, Miss B, No. 1, depicts the patient with her head turned away from the camera, a sullen and petulant expression on her face. Conversely, in Miss B, No. 2, her head and shoulders are perfectly aligned - she poses compliantly, a tranquil smile on her face. She, too, sports a more lavish hairstyle and wears far more elaborate clothing and jewelry (figure 13). Finally, Miss C, No. 1, shows the patient's face completely averted from the camera, her hand nervously fingering the brooch at her neck, frowning slightly, with her hair pulled strictly back from her forehead. On the other hand, Miss C, No.2, portrays the patient facing the camera, her  78  lips slightly upturned at the corners, her hair softly swept back and up with a few tendrils left covering her forehead (figure 14). The portraits then depict not only a shift in health but through the improvement in posture, and the elaboration of dress, adornments and hairstyle - a shift in gender. They demonstrate how the patients have been cured not only of their illness but also trained in the correct performance of middle-class femininity. These "before and after" photographic representations, by juxtaposing the image of the appropriately classed and gendered body with that of the deviant body, reveal how the camera and photographic portraiture worked to frame the body within cultural and aesthetic discourses and to position it within a set of social relations. Moreover, they illustrate how portrait photography enabled the performative display of certain identities while foreclosing the possibility of others - the production of "insiders" relies upon the disavowed domain of "outsiders." The camera replaces the panoptical eye and, in surveying, controlling and classifying the abject "other" - in this case the anorectic - reifies the position of the "insider." In visually transforming the abject anorectic into a properly classed and gendered "insider," these sets of photographs inadvertently expose the performativity of photographic practices - how the photographs act as declarative statements that bring into being that which they name. Identity is produced and enacted through the use of codified gestures, the positioning of the body, clothing and adornment. In Gull's photographs of his anorexic patients, we see how the photograph works to transform them from threats to docile bodies. Through the photographs, the bodies are rendered into legible texts that could be interpreted by the medical expert. Yet in what ways may the anorectic resist being made into a text by the medical experts and persist in the attempt to write her own text? Anorexia nervosa is a highly visual disease; it is a performance that demands an audience to observe and read the text of the body. Whether consciously or otherwise, the  79  anorectic writes her own text on the surface of her body - one that demands to be read as a cultural statement about gender and identity. Gull's last contribution to clinical medicine was another case study of anorexia nervosa. In an article published in The Lancet on March 17th, 1888, Gull describes his treatment of Miss K.R., "a case of extreme starvation," which was brought to him on April 20th, 1887 by a Dr. Leachman of Petersfield.30 He recounts how this patient, who had been "a plump and healthy girl," began "without apparent cause, to evince a repugnance to food, and soon afterwards declined to take any whatever except half a cup of tea or coffee."31 As in the other case studies, Gull attributes the illness to "perversions of the ego."32 He notes an interesting activity of the patient, Miss K. R.: she insisted on "walking through the streets" although she was "an object of remark to the passers by."  Her behaviour would seem to indicate that the anorexic girl  achieved a sense of pleasure or power in placing herself under the public gaze - in putting herself on display and becoming the object of scrutiny. How, moreover, did the doctor know of her public performance and act of self-display? Did the patient tell him, reveling in the additional attention, becoming not only the storyteller but also the subject of her own narrative? These issues concerning anorexic behaviour, the display of the body, self-control and imposed control are intimately connected with emerging technologies and techniques of vision in the nineteenth century. In the nineteenth century visual order, the imbrication of the regimes of spectacle and surveillance and the proliferation of photographic and photograph-like images resulted in the increased significance of external appearances and the increased visibility of the body. The placement of the body on public display, and its subjection to the gaze of others, could result in the internalization of this monitoring gaze as individuals policed, not only others, but themselves. The anorectic operating within this visual order then both puts herself on display 30  William Gull, "Anorexia Nervosa," The Lancet, March 17, 1888, 516. Ibid., 516-517. 32 Ibid., 517.  31  80  and internalizes the viewing gaze. Paradoxically, in somehow trying to resist or protest against the social role she is expected to perform, she reproduces rather than transforms that which she protests. However, as the case of Miss K.R. indicates, the individual can achieve a sense of agency in voluntarily obeying the injunctions of social power and in exaggerating its constraints. Thus the inscription of social norms, and the resistance to that inscription, are both closely intertwined and written on the anorexic body. If we consider anorexic behaviour in terms of parodic excess, in which the body expresses the extreme version of social imperatives, then perhaps the performance of the anorectic can achieve some level of subversiveness. Yet any power or subversiveness experienced in this performance is necessarily ambiguous as it reproduces a relationship of social inequality and dependence and even imprisons the performer more securely within the confines of existing power relations.  Ill: Photography as Evidence: The Medical Document and Visual Manipulation Throughout his verbal depictions of the case studies, Gull refers the readers back to the photographic illustrations, holding them up as visual evidence to support his argument. In this manner, he renders the women's bodies into legible texts and controls how the readers interpret them. For example, in detailing the case of Miss A, he instructs the readers to observe carefully "the woodcut Miss A No.2, from photograph taken in 1870, [which] shows her condition at that time. It will be noticeable that as she recovered she had a much younger look, corresponding indeed to her age, twenty-one; whilst the photographs, taken when she was seventeen, give her the appearance of being near thirty."34 Similarly, in seeking to convey verbally the extent of Miss B's emaciation, and of her subsequent recovery, Gull refers the reader to the visual testimony provided by the woodcut fac-similes. And in the case study of Miss C, Gull refers the  "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)," 23.  81  reader to the woodcuts as ocular proof of the patient's transformation from "extremely emaciated" to "plump and rosy as of yore."35 In his case descriptions of Miss C and of Miss K. R., Gull reveals the importance of photographic procedures of observation and visualization to the expression and reception of anorexic behaviour. In his correspondence with Dr. Anderson (the physician who referred his patient to Gull) he asks Anderson to send him a photograph of Miss C in her present condition: Such cases not unfrequently come before me; but as the morbid state is not yet generally recognized, I should be glad if you would second my wish of having a photograph taken of Miss C in her present state, that we may compare it with some later one, if, as I hope, •j/r  our plan of treatment is successful, as in my experience it generally is. In other words, Gull requires the photographs as "scientific evidence" to confirm and substantiate his research and to help him achieve recognition for his medical discovery. It would, therefore, be in Gull's best interest to obtain photographs that portrayed a startling and dramatic recovery. In his response, Anderson includes a photograph of Miss C and adds that he trusts that he may "one day send... a plump photograph, like what she was two years ago."37 Anderson's reply indicates his awareness of the visual requirements that the photograph must fulfill in order to provide the necessary medical evidence. As I indicated in the introduction, Gull depended upon the photograph to lend credence to his verbal text. In justifying his inclusion of the visual evidence in the case of Miss K.R., Gull states: The case was so extreme that, had it not been photographed and accurately engraved, some assurance would have been necessary that the appearances were not exaggerated, or even caricatured, which they were not.38 Gull's verbal justification for including the visual proof also attests to the medical belief in the power of photography to capture and convey an objective "truth." Yet his protestations that  35  Ibid., 26, 28. Ibid., 27. "Ibid. 38 Ibid., 516. 36  82  appearances were not exaggerated and that the woodcut is an accurate engraving of a photographically captured reality suggests that these representations were most probably far more fictional constructions than they were scientific and factual records. As revealed in Darwin's collaboration with James Crichton Browne and O.G. Rejlander on The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals (1872), both woodcut engravings of photographs and the purportedly objective and scientific photographs themselves were highly constructed and hardly reliable. Indeed, Gull was aware of the subjectivity both of the medical observer and of the language he necessarily had to use to convey information. In his 1871 Address as President of the Clinical Society, he remarks that medical experience is "limited by the prejudice, or interest, or incapacity of the observer."39 And in an address delivered to medical students at Guy's Hospital in 1874, he cautions the audience not to satisfy themselves with "second-hand knowledge" from books because "words and descriptions, good as they are, after you have acquainted yourselves with the things themselves, are always ready to come between you and the objects and to dim your impressions of them."40 Gull himself inadvertently suggests the, at least partially, fictional, constructed status of this medical literature by calling the case of Miss K.R. "this story."41 Gull states that the woodcuts that accompany his case study of Miss K.R were based on two photographs taken at his request by a Mr. C.S. Ticehurst, of Petersfield. Unlike the woodcuts illustrating the recovery of Misses A, B and C, the before and after woodcuts of Miss K.R. bear the captions "Photographed April 21 st , 1887" and "Photographed June 14th, 1887" - as if Gull desired to highlight the dramatic impact of the illustrations (and thus his own medical proficiency) by reinforcing the short time period between the patient's deadly emaciation and her 39 40 41  In Acland, vol. 2, 83. "On the Study of Medicine," in Acland, vol. 2, 120. William Gull, "Anorexia Nervosa," The Lancet, March 17, 1888, 517.  83  full recovery. In the first photograph, Miss K.R. is portrayed naked from the torso upward, ostensibly to better convey the extent of her emaciation. Her head is turned away from the camera, and her hair is cut short around the head and straggles down the back of her neck. The second photograph, purportedly taken less than two months after the first, shows a miraculous recovery. It depicts a plump-cheeked Miss K.R. in a standing position, fully facing the camera. Dressed in a respectable gown, she demurely holds a wide-brimmed hat in front of her. Her hair now flows in abundant waves down her back (figure 15). Significantly, although the photographic illustrations of Misses A, B and C portray the women fully clothed both during their illness and after their recovery, the photograph of Miss K.R. depicts her nude during her illness and only clothed after her recovery. Why might Gull have chosen to include a nude photograph in this case study? After Gull's publication of his 1874 article, several other articles and letters were published in medical journals recounting the experience of various physicians with this "new" disease.42 Additionally, as we have seen already, Gull had to contend with Charles Lasegue for recognition as the "discoverer" of anorexia nervosa. As fourteen years had eclipsed between the publication of his first article and the publication of "Anorexia Nervosa," Gull possibly felt the need to emphasize and retain his position as the leading expert on this disease. Perhaps he thought the most efficacious means of doing so would be to increase the shock value of his illustrations. What could be more visually arresting to the Victorian eye than a photograph of a nude, de-sexualized body? The visual shock would certainly draw attention to the article, if not add weight to the verbal report. In fact, an editorial published in the Lancet on March 24, 1888 remarked on Gull's "very striking illustrations" and interpreted the predominance of visual depiction over verbal description as evidence of Gull's continued medical proficiency and acumen: "the brevity and pithiness of Sir  Joan Jacobs Brumberg, Fasting Girls: The History of Anorexia Nervosa (N.Y.: Penguin, 1989) 141.  84  William's account of the case are happy proof that his keen clinical perceptions have suffered no abatement."43 What effect would these "very striking illustrations" have had on the viewers? If the body of the anorectic is a text that demands to be read, then the reader/viewer is inextricably involved in the fabrication and interpretation of meaning, and any assessment of the significance of the representation must consider the relationship between the viewed object and the viewing audience. I would argue that although the nude illustration of Miss K.R. is not overtly sexual, it is nevertheless sexualized, and operates according to the logics of pornography, insofar as pornography is premised on the functions of the gaze, pleasure, power and inequality. As I have outlined already in Chapter One, according to Michel Foucault, nineteenth century medical discourse managed sexuality in order to regulate and maximize the reproductive energies of the population. In so doing, the medical establishment upheld the married heterosexual couple as the norm, while targeting and monitoring "deviants" such as homosexuals and hysterics.44 Judith Butler, in turn, builds on Foucault's ideas to argue that this heterosexual imperative enables certain sexual identities and forbids others. The "normative" sexual subject is therefore constituted through the exclusion and abjection of "deviant" bodies that do not conform to the heterosexual norm.45 It is my contention that the de-gendered, de-sexualized body of Miss K.R. functions as one of these abject bodies that escapes the norm. With her cropped hair and without the signifiers of feminine dress Miss K.R. fails to conform to the Victorian notion of the properly feminized body; with her lack of secondary sexual characteristics and, by implication, reproductive functions, Miss K.R. also fails to conform to the heterosexual imperative to possess a properly sexed body and reproductive body.  43  Editorial, Lancet, March 24, 1888, 583-584. Michel Foucault, The History of Sexuality, vol. I: An Introduction, trans. Robert Hurley (NY.: Vintage, 1990). 45 Judith Butler, Bodies that Matter: On the Discursive Limits of Sex (NY.: Routledge, 1993).  44  85  What relationship would then exist between the reader and the illustration, between observing subject and observed object? Insofar as the patient is presented naked, the photograph captures and objectifies the disavowed and abjected anorectic in a similar manner to the photographic representation of anthropological "types," in which people of other races were photographed in the nude, their bodies measured and classified. There is thus an exhibitionary quality to the nude photograph - the patient put on display like a curiosity at a side-show. In looking at the photograph, the observer would occupy the position of the "normalized" insider and the subject the disavowed outsider. Hence the "striking" effect of the illustration that fascinates and disturbs the viewers with the knowledge of what they had to expel in order to constitute their subjectivity. The photograph succeeds in capturing not only the depicted object, but also the gaze of the enthralled observer. In so doing, it functions not only to mark the anorexic body as deviant, but also to reify the normalized subject position of the viewer. As with the "before and after" photographs of Misses A, B and C, the depictions of Miss K.R. illustrate how portrait photography enabled the performative display of certain identities while foreclosing the possibility of others. In the case of Miss K.R., the display of the "deviant" body in the nude - the opening up of the body to the gaze - is replaced by the "normal" covered and hidden body. Such juxtaposition does effect a separation between the abject and the insider. However, what prevents the viewer - having already obtained visual access to the girl's naked body - from imaginatively accessing the body now decorously covered? The representation of the patient in the nude would seem to encourage the voyeuristic consideration of the healthy body as the viewer would inevitably imagine what lay beneath the clothing in order to "scientifically" compare the two depictions. There exists an erotic subtext to this second photograph, as the medical gaze exercises its prerogative to pierce, at least imaginatively, the veil of clothing and examine a healthy adolescent female body.  86  A later edition of Gull's article highlights the complexity of the dynamics at work in these illustrations. In his collection of Gull's published writings, Theodore Acland includes the case of Miss K.R. in Gull's first article on anorexia, "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)." However, the second of the two woodcut illustrations is entirely different from the woodcut published in The Lancet. Significantly, it depicts Miss K.R. identically positioned as she was in the April 21 st photograph: nude from the torso upward (figure 16). However in this photograph she is noticeably plumper and grins for the camera. In an editorial footnote, Theodore Acland informs the readers that the second woodcut illustration that purportedly represents Miss K.R. is not, in fact, the woodcut to which Gull refers. Acland writes: "This illustration differs from that given in the original paper; since, the negative having been destroyed, it was found impracticable to reproduce the woodcut. - Ed."46 The illustration is, therefore, an entirely fictional representation — a drawing which mimics photographic techniques and which holds the status of photographic authenticity. What is notable is Acland's decision to uncover the healthy body of the now "respectable" patient. The viewer now has unobstructed access to the female body - no longer does s/he have to fantasize about what lies beneath the clothing as the nude body is exhibited to the gaze. Such illustrative decisions raise questions as to the extent to which "professional" observation may service an erotic agenda, and the moment when documentary evidence might become pornography. Indeed, Gull's document problematizes the relationship between "factual" and "Active" discourses, not only in terms of the status of the photograph, but also the status of the medical document itself.  Gull, "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)," reprintedfrom"Clinical Society's Transactions" 1874, 22 in Acland vol. 1313.  87  Chapter Five The Visualization of Anorexia Nervosa in Mary De Morgan's "A Toy Princess" I: Mary De Morgan: No "Toy Princess" In 1877, just three years after Gull's diagnosis of anorexia nervosa, Mary De Morgan published her fairy tale "A Toy Princess." De Morgan, the youngest of seven children, came from a family immersed in various artistic, cultural, intellectual and scientific pursuits. Her father, Augustus De Morgan, was a leading mathematician who voraciously consumed contemporary novels during his leisure hours - Dickens being a favorite.' Her mother, Sophia Frend, herself the daughter of a mathematician, had received an unconventional education and upbringing: she had learnt Hebrew, Greek and Latin, and developed a strong interest in antiquarianism and theological issues. From a young age, she met and conversed with the noted intellectuals who frequented her parents' home, among them Henry Crabb Robinson, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Robert Browning, William Wordsworth and William Blake.2 Her close friend was Lady Noel Byron, the widow of Lord Byron. Together, Sophia and Lady Byron pursued their interest in the new science of phrenology. Sophia was a studious disciple until, while attending the lectures of Mr. Holmes, a leading phrenologist, she perceived in his collection of the skulls of "criminals, idiots and other abnormalities" a cast identical to "that of our friend, Mr. De Morgan."3 After her marriage to Augustus De Morgan, Sophia became active in various charitable organizations; she tried to devise methods of improving the conditions of workhouses, asylums and prisons, initiated a society for providing playgrounds for children in the slums and helped to institute Bedford College in 1849.4  1  A.M.W. Stirling, William De Morgan and His Wife (London: Thornton, Butterworth Limited, 1922) 26, 33. Ibid., 30. 3 Ibid., 31. 4 Ibid., 32. 2  88  Both Augustus and Sophia avidly studied spiritualism, clairvoyance and telepathy. Sophia was photographed holding the hand of a medium; when developed, the photograph depicted a shadowy form standing behind her chair. Sophia identified this form as the spirit of her deceased daughter (her first born, Elizabeth Alice died at fifteen years of age on Christmas day, 1853).5 Sophia's conviction of the authenticity of the photograph - of its factual nature strengthened her faith in spiritualism. Augustus, conversely, regarded the photograph as a fictional construction, and focused his spiritualist pursuits in other areas.6 Growing up in such a household, both Mary and her brother William, who illustrated "A Toy Princess," were exposed to a variety of scientific, cultural and social movements - from issues surrounding women's suffrage to mathematics and logistics to literature, art, spiritualism and the new "sciences" of phrenology and photography. In such a milieu they could hardly be unaware of the interdependence and fusion of different "disciplines" as well as the ambiguous relationship between "factual" and "fictional" material. As William De Morgan's biographer A.M.W. Stirling aptly states, they were weaned on "an atmosphere of merry wit and exquisite music; of keen logic and piercing thought; of scientific research and - maybe - a leaning towards credulity; of an equally happy appreciation of hard fact and picturesque fiction."7 Little is recorded of Mary De Morgan's life; the information that does exist comes mainly in the form of tangential remarks by the biographers of the prominent intellectual men who overshadowed her - her brother William, potter, ceramicist, illustrator and novelist, and her close friend William Morris, poet, designer, printer and social activist. Stirling relies on the account of a De Morgan family friend, Mr. Henry Holiday, to depict the young Mary. According to Holiday, Mary was "extremely lively and full of fun." He recounts how "she would toss her short, waving hair out of her eyes in the wild breeze upon the Welsh mountains and complain, 5  Stirling does not name the deceased daughter; I inferred it was Elizabeth Alice from dates of birth and death in the De Morgan family tree (provided by Stirling). 6 Ibid., 36.  89  'My gay hairs will bring me down in sorrow to the grave!'" Holiday also described Mary as "too downright and determined," and remembers how she used to comment on "the lack of common sense exhibited by people with artistic tendencies." Another family friend, Mr. Amherst Tyssen, described Mary as a "precocious little minx." 8 According to Stirling, Mary grew "from a brusque, clever child... into a talented woman, who amused people by her witty sayings and quick repartees." Stirling describes her as "being small and slight, with china-blue eyes and regular features, while her quick, sharp voice accentuated a somewhat abrupt manner."9 Mary was accredited with the capacity to tell fortunes, which she often did for the amusement of her friends. Stirling recounts two incidents in which her fortune telling had remarkable results. In the first, Mary, while "glibly" telling the fortune of a surgeon while at a friend's party, abruptly terminated her session and refused to say anything more. After the surgeon had left, she told her friends that she saw that he would die from drowning and that his fiancee would also drown by the capsizing of a boat, which the surgeon would witness from the shore. Little over a year later, Stirling states, both events came to pass. In the second incident, Mary told a stranger's fortune at a bazaar. She informed him that he would go to another country where he would meet with a carriage accident, in consequence of which he would fall in love with and marry the woman he would rescue from beneath the horses' hooves. Years later, a stranger introduced himself to Mary as the man whose fortune she had told; he hailed her as a clairvoyant, claiming that the bizarre sequence of events she had foretold had actually come to pass.10 Violet Paget, who wrote under the pseudonym Vernon Lee, describes in a letter to her mother an encounter with the adult Mary and her mother Sophia so bizarre that it could come straight out of a work of sensation fiction: From [William's] workshop we went two doors off to his mother & sister. You 7  Ibid., 37. Ibid., 62. 9 Ibid., 105. 10 Ibid., 106-107. 8  90  never saw anything odder. A black old house with creaking wooden stairs all covered with faded green baize - a low, dark little parlour, half furnished, all green also, faded cloth & dim window panes & trees outside, and in it a sweet, vague old lady & an excited black spinster with a frown such as I never saw. In came Mrs. Richmond, the artist's wife, a spectral pale woman, & began to relate her experiences of a grey lady who haunts their house at Hammersmith; while she was talking, I perceived with my other ear that a second ghost story was going on the other side, & turning round, saw a woman who looked like a black beetle. Old Mrs. De Morgan looked stranger & vaguer, & Miss De Morgan frowned more & more terrifically, & finally worked herself into such a state that she finally flung out of the room. Then the old lady said there were things which she must tell me, but that I must return a day that her son & daughter were out in the country, as she was nearly under a promise not to speak about them. Then Miss De Morgan, looking blacker & more scowling than ever, rushed in and tried to get me out of the house before any such communications could be made. I finally discovered that these mysterious matters were ghost stories, which the old lady, who, I fancy is rather crazey, told Evelyn [Pickering] she must tell me because she felt sure I must be a ghost seer from my expression. Evelyn (here comes the lovely part), asks her to tell them to herself, whereto she answered "No my dear, you are young & healthy, and I can't tell such things to you." It was, what with the preliminary visit to the pot manufactory, like the beginning of one of Hawthorne's tales.11  Significantly, Paget understands and interprets the De Morgan's interest in spiritualism and the occult through the lens of fiction, reading her encounter according to the narrative codes of ghost stories. After the death of her father in 1872, Mary and her mother moved with William to a house on Cheyne Row in Chealsea. William set up a kiln in the garden and began his career as a potter. Mary, as William's constant companion, would have been at least a spectator of the "constant influx of visitors, social, scientific and artistic" to the house on Cheyne Row.  It was  most likely during one of these eclectic gatherings that Mary met and befriended William Morris. The two must have shared a close friendship, for at Morris' death in 1896, Mary was "among those who ministered to his darkest hours."14 Mary herself died in Egypt in 1907. She moved to Egypt after having been diagnosed with phthisis (a pulmonary condition related to  11  Violet Paget, letter to her mother, dated July 15, 1883, in Vernon Lee's Letters, ed. Irene Cooper Willis (London: Privately Printed, 1937) 127. 12 Ibid., 81. 13 Ibid., 105. 14 Ibid., 230.  91  tuberculosis also characterized by the loss of appetite15) and ordered to live abroad. During her few years there, rather than convalescing she took charge of a Reformatory for children in Cairo.16 In his biography, Morris as I knew Him, George Bernard Shaw describes his encounter with Mary De Morgan at Kelmscott Manor. He formed a distinct impression of De Morgan before ever actually meeting her: I had heard a great deal of Mary before I met her, and was persuaded by all I had heard that she must be the most odious female then alive, a woman who embroiled and wrecked every household she entered by mischief-making gossip and an unfailing instinct for laying down the law in the way most exquisitely calculated to infuriate her hosts. As she was not related to any of the families she frequented I could not understand why they not only tolerated her but seemed to consider her as necessary and inevitable, though they spoke of her as the devil incarnate. The truth of the matter was that Mary had in her a quality of helpfulness and efficiency that made her indispensable wherever there was illness or trouble; and with this she commanded a consideration and even affection that the dearest of women might have envied.17 Shaw vows to obtain revenge upon De Morgan for her cold reception of him by attempting to "fascinate her."18 He claims that De Morgan "liked it" and that she "played the game with spirit," squeezing his hand before retiring for the night.19 He recalls how years later, when it became known that De Morgan was in financial distress, "everyone who had ever spoken ill of her" - "that is, everyone who had known her" - immediately offered her aid, which she proceeded to reject with characteristic independence. Shaw concludes his account with the evaluation: "a great little woman Mary in her way."20 While Shaw's description of Mary De Morgan is certainly biased and even arrogantly condescending, it is still invaluable for its conveyance of her unconventionality and independence. Moreover, what I find particularly significant in his account is his unfavorable  15  Joan Jacobs Brumberg, Fasting Girls (N.Y.: Penguin, 1989) 101. Stirling, 241. 17 Bernard Shaw, Morris as I knew him (London: William Morris Society, 1966) 27. 18 Ibid., 28. 19 Ibid. 20 Ibid. 16  92  comparison of De Morgan with Jane Morris. After eulogizing Jane Morris as a "beautiful stately and silent woman, whom the Brotherhood and Rossetti had succeeded in consecrating," he goes on to describe De Morgan as "by no means either silent or consecrated."21 Shaw then sets up De Morgan in binary opposition to Morris, the famous Pre-Raphaelite model whose existence fused issues concerning illness, the body and (selfjrepresentation.  II: Jane Morris: A "Toy Princess"? Illness, (Self)Representation and the Confusion of Original and Copy From 1866 until Dante Gabriel Rossetti's death in 1882, Jane Morris was the subject of most of his paintings and, through his art, her image became famous and her face the icon of late Pre-Raphaelite romanticism.22 Morris suffered from the ubiquitous "female complaints": ailments such as backaches, headaches and, most prominently, digestive problems. Her symptoms seem to indicate that she suffered from the ambiguous nervous disorder neurasthenia. George Beard, an American neurologist, first diagnosed neurasthenia in 1869. He and likeminded physicians regarded the disease as a product of industrialization and the changing lifestyle heralded by advanced technology, scientific progress and the emancipation of women. The multiplicitous symptoms of neurasthenia included headaches, lack of appetite, dyspepsia and insomnia, among others. The physician William Smoult Playfair, a contemporary of William Gull, regarded anorexia nervosa as a variant of neurasthenia.23 The psychiatrists George Savage and Edwin Goodall used D.G. Rossetti's paintings as visual examples of neurasthenic women: "The body wastes, and the face has a thin anxious look, not unlike that represented by Rossetti in many of his pictures of women. There is a hungry look about them which is striking."24  21  Ibid., 27. Debra N. Mancoff, Jane Morris: the Pre-Raphaelite Model of Beauty (Essex: Pomegranate, 2000) 3. 23 Joan Jacobs Brumberg, Fasting Girls: The History of Anorexia Nervosa (N.Y.: Penguin, 1989) 149-150. 24 George Henry Savage and Edwin Goodall, Insanity and Allied Neuroses, 4th ed. (London: Cassell, 1907) 97. 22  As Jane Morris was purportedly reserved and retiring, her permanent invalidism could have been a deliberate self-representation - in professing digestive problems she could excuse herself from participating (on both a gustatory and conversational level) in the frequent dinners William Morris hosted. Georgina Burne-Jones writes of how, on Christmas Day 1873, William De Morgan (accompanied most likely by his mother and Mary) and the Morrises, among others, joined them for festivities in which Jane notably refused to take part: "Charles Faulkner and William De Morgan enchanted us all by their pranks, in which Morris and Edward Poynter occasionally joined, while Mrs. Morris, placed safely out of the way, watched everything from a sofa."26 Likewise, Shaw notes Jane Morris' lack of participation in the gatherings held at Kelmscott Manor: "she did not take much notice of me. She was not a talker: in fact she was the silentest woman I have ever met. She did not take much notice of anybody, and none whatever of Morris, who talked all the time."27 Jane Morris' behaviour illustrates the use of abstention from communal dining and silent reserve as a type of non-verbal protest, quiet mutiny and persistent recalcitrance. Shaw himself comments on the social symbolism of just such communal dining. As a vegetarian, he recalls his discomfort in dining at Kelmscott Manor where "the meals were works of art almost as much as the furniture. To refuse Morris's wine or Mrs. Morris's viands was like walking on the great carpet with muddy boots."28 Dining was an art form - highly symbolic and replete with coded signification. To refuse food was then to perform an almost iconoclastic act - to shatter the sanctity of the artwork. Could Jane Morris, in refraining from either conversing or consuming at such gustatory gatherings, be on some level attempting to protest against her own transformation into a work of art? Through her artistic representation, she herself became just such an iconic figure. Those who met her treated her not as a woman, but as a work of art. The painted representations 25  Mancoff, 56. Quoted in Stirling, 84. 27 Shaw, 26. 26  94  influenced how people perceived reality. Instead of seeing a woman, they saw an image. Shaw recounts the "startling impression" Jane Morris made on him: Rossetti's pictures, of which I had seen a collection at the Burlington Fine Arts Club, had driven her into my consciousness as an imaginary figure. When she came into the room in her strangely beautiful garments, looking at least eight feet tall, her effect was as if she had walked out of an Egyptian tomb at Luxor.29 Like George Bernard Shaw, Henry James met Jane Morris while dining, with other guests, at the Morris household. For most of the evening Jane Morris had been indisposed, reclining on the sofa. Writing of his stay in London to his sister, he rapturously describes his encounter with Morris, describing her as iconic artwork, lingering with almost fetishistic reverence on every detail of her appearance: A figure cut out of a missal - out of one of Rossetti's or Hunt's pictures - to say this gives but a faint idea of her, because when such an image puts on flesh and blood, it is an apparition of fearful and wonderful intensity.... Imagine a tall lean woman in a long dress of some dead purple stuff, guiltless of hoops (or anything else, I should say), with a mass of crisp black hair heaped into great wavy projections on each side of her temples, a thin pale face, a pair of strange sad, deep, dark Swinburnian eyes, with great thick black oblique brows, joined in the middle and tucking themselves away under her hair, a mouth like the "Oriana" in our illustrated Tennyson, a long neck, without any collar, and in lieu thereof some dozen strings of outlandish beads.  James, like Shaw and most likely everyone else who encountered Jane Morris, experienced an inability to discern image from reality, fact from fiction - the two supposedly disparate categories were, in the person of Jane Morris, highly imbricated, occupying an almost symbiotic relationship. As James writes: It's hard to say whether she's a grand synthesis of all the pre-Raphaelite pictures ever made - or they a 'keen analysis' of her - whether she's an original or a copy.31 This difficulty in distinguishing original from copy, fact from fiction extended beyond the artistic, intellectual and scientific circles who frequented the Morris household; it directly  29  Shaw, 26. Henry James, letter to Alice James, March 10th, 1869, in Henry James: Letters, vol. 1, ed. Leon Edel (Cambridge, Harvard UP, 1974)93-94. 30  95  impacted late Victorian middle-class society. As images of Jane Morris circulated throughout this social stratum, women began to imitate her appearance, seeking to copy her hairstyle, dress and posture. Representational images not only influenced how people perceived reality, they shaped reality itself. In her conduct manual on style and beauty, Mrs. H.R. Haweis instructs her readers on how adopting the Pre-Raphaelite style of dress could transform even an "ugly duck" into an artistic image: Those dear and much abused "prae-Raphaelite" painters, whom it is still in some circles the fashion to decry, are the plain girl's best friends. They have taken all the neglected ones by the hand. All the ugly flowers, all the ugly buildings, all the ugly faces, they have shown us to have a certain crooked beauty of their own... .Morris, Burne-Jones and others, have made certain types of face, once literally hated, actually the fashion... .A pallid face with a protruding lip is highly esteemed. Green eyes, a squint, square eyebrows, whitey-brown complexions are not left out in the cold. In fact, the pinkcheeked dolls are no where; they are said to have "no character" and a pretty little hand is voted characterless too. Now is the time for plain women. Only dress after the praeRaphaelite style and you will be astonished to find that so far from being an "ugly duck" you are a full fledged swan.32  Punch magazine's satiric poem "The Two Ideals" mocked those women who tried to imitate Pre-Raphaelite representations. In describing Jane Morris's characteristic features, it indicates how her image was turned into a "type" - she became a typification of a certain category of individuals. Significantly, the main identifying characteristic of this "type" was the emaciated body - as Punch articulates, "her cheeks were cavernous, her form was spare."33 The accompanying illustration depicts the conventional figure of Victorian beauty: corseted yet curvaceous, bejeweled and gazing coyly at the audience. Juxtaposed with this figure is the PreRaphaelite "type": an obvious caricature of Jane Morris, the figure bears a skeletal form, sunken cheeks and downcast eyes (figure 17). Paradoxically, this ideal of beauty - comprised not only of unstructured dress but also of the lean, angular body - was embraced by women's rights activists as a protest against social conventions. Oscar Wilde analyses this fascinating 31 32  ibid. Mrs. H.R Haweis, The Art of Beauty, 2nd ed. (London: Chatto and Windus, 1878, 1883) 273-274.  96  interrelationship between original and copy, fact and fiction. In commenting on the predominance of women who copied Rossetti's images he observes: "a great artist invents a type, and Life tries to copy it, to reproduce it in a popular form, like an enterprising publisher."34 Just as image and reality became intertwined, so too did different means of imaging. Images of Jane Morris made use of a variety of representational techniques - often fusing discrete forms of depiction. In July 1865, D.G. Rossetti invited Morris to his home to be photographed in his garden. He hired Robert Parsons, a portrait photographer, to take her picture35 (figure 18). Rossetti aimed to use the photographic images as originals from which he would make painted copies - renditions that would elaborate and "fictionalize" the more "factual" photographic statement. In a sense, then, Rossetti the artist used photography in much the same way as did Gull the physician, or Darwin the evolutionist: photography allowed them to capture (and construct) an image for referential purposes. Rossetti used these photographs as references for his paintings and then proceeded to make photographic reproductions of these painted images. In 1878, Rossetti began to reproduce his work in the new medium of autotype (i.e., collotype) photographic reproduction.36 The tonal subtlety of the autotype made it an eminently suitable medium for reproducing drawings, watercolours and prints.37 Rossetti chose as his first autotype Perlascura, a portrait of Jane painted in 1871.38 What we see here is a process whereby copies are made of the copy - the signifier becomes severed from the signified and proliferates and circulates. There occurs a destabilization and mobility of signs; the sign refers not back to a stable original, but rather to 33  "The Two Ideals," Punch, September 13th, 1879, 1.20. Oscar Wilde, "The Decay of Lying," in Literary Criticism of Oscar Wilde, ed. Stanley Weintraub (Lincoln, U of Nebraska P, 1968) 182. 35 Mancoff, 47. 36 The term autotype was sometimes used for collotype because many early collotypes were printed by the Autotype Company, who called it their "Autotype mechanical process." See Bamber Gascoigne, How to Identify Prints: A complete guide to manual and mechanical processes from woodcut to ink jet (London: Thames and Hudson, 1986) 107. 37 Ibid., 40. 38 Mancoff, 84. 34  97  another sign, another copy. Rossetti's obsessive proliferation of images of Jane Morris illustrates a central aspect of the nineteenth century visual order, in which visual experience "is given an unprecedented mobility and exchangeability, abstracted from any founding site or referent."39 In August 1878, Rossetti conceived of a new project: a suite of autotypes he would publish as a folio; each autotype would be a portrait of Jane Morris and each image would be accompanied by a sonnet. The work would be entitled "Perlascura. Twelve Coins of one Queen," after a passage in Dante's Vita Nuova40 Although this project never materialized, it remains notable for its marriage of verbal and visual representation, the destabilization and proliferation of signs, specifically of Morris' portrait and, additionally, the association of these autotype images with currency. Although the phrase "twelve coins of one Queen" derives from Dante, it still associates the representations of Jane with coins - with currency. Just as the head of a monarch would be stamped on coins, which would then circulate throughout the kingdom, so too is Morris' portrait captured in an autotypic image which would undergo a similar process of commodification as it circulates throughout society. Rossetti's project suggests how photography and money became homologous forms of social power in the nineteenth century: both were what Crary terms "magical forms that establish a new set of abstract relations between individuals and things and impose those relations as real."41  DI: "A Toy Princess": "Fictional" Commentary on a "Factual" Disease The case of Jane Morris illuminates various social, cultural and aesthetic anxieties that pervaded Victorian society, specifically, issues surrounding a "real" woman being turned into a representation and how this simulacrum in turn influences and constructs reality. Central to this 39  Jonathan Crary, Techniques of the Observer (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1990) 14. Mancoff, 85. 41 Crary, 13. 40  98  process was the focus on the woman's body, in particular the ailing woman's body and illness as a non-verbal statement. Mary De Morgan's "A Toy Princess," illustrated by her brother, harnesses and comments upon these issues. As an acquaintance of Jane Morris, De Morgan would have been aware of the model's disturbed eating patterns and chronic illness. As a member both of the Victorian gallery-attending public and as a struggling woman writer relegated to the peripheries of the Pre-Raphaelite circle, she would have been conscious of the complex interaction between "image" and "reality" and between artist and work of art. Although it may not directly allude to the situation of Jane Morris, "A Toy Princess" certainly reflects the distinctly Victorian emergence of disordered oral consumption in a society dominated by a photographic mentality. The tale tells of a princess born into a society that prohibits any display of emotion. Her godmother, fearing for her well-being, whisks her away to the cottage of a peasant family in a nearby fishing village, where the princess grows and thrives; she replaces the princess with a doll, and the inhabitants of the castle are none the wiser. When the king eventually chooses to abdicate the throne, and pass on the reins of government to his "daughter," the godmother decides it is time to return the "real" princess to the castle. The courtiers, however, far prefer their toy princess to the live woman, and choose to keep the imitation instead of welcoming the original. De Morgan's story depicts, with surprising accuracy, the familial and social conditions that often contributed to the production of anorexia nervosa. At the same time, the narrative raises issues concerning representation: reality versus image, original versus copy, fact versus fiction. The tale represents the dynamics within the crucible of the Victorian family, and within society at large, which lead to the formation of the anorexic daughter. Literally stifling social conventions prevail within this fairy tale kingdom, where:  99  it was thought to be the rudest thing in the world for any one to say they liked or disliked, or loved or hated, or were happy or miserable. No one ever laughed aloud, and if any one had been seen to cry they would at once have been avoided by their friends.42 This kingdom thus suppresses individuality, privileging conventional concepts of proper behaviour and strictly adhering to role-playing. Such role-playing transforms three-dimensional people into static automatons, stunting both individual and social growth and progression. Into this society arrives a princess from a neighbouring country, one in which people are allowed the expression of individual beliefs and emotions, where they: laughed, and talked, and were noisy and merry when they were happy, and cried and lamented if they were sad.43 The new queen reacts to her situation by becoming "thinner and paler" until she believes she is "going to die."44 In this case, then, the refusal to eat becomes the only means of escape available - only by escaping her body can the queen escape the conventions which enmire her. The radical step of self-annihilation ironically seems the only way to regain her sense of self. Just prior to her death, the queen gives birth to a daughter. We thus see how the daughter comes (quite literally) to take the place of the mother, becoming, in her turn, the "Angel in the House," commissioned to serve as the cohering force in the family. As the princess ages, the family molds her into their conception of the ideal daughter and young woman - silencing her when she cries, laughs, or speaks - in essence, stripping her of her voice and, by implication, of her individuality and freedom: she began to understand a little what was meant when her nurses told her, in cold, polite tones, that she was being naughty, and she grew much quieter.45  Mary De Morgan, "A Toy Princess," On a Pincushion and Other Fairy Tales, illus. William De Morgan, 1877 (N.Y.: Garland Publishers, 1977) 153. 43 Ibid., 154. 44 Ibid. 45 Ibid., 155.  100  The princess reacts to the theft of her voice by using food as an instrument of expression and her body as a means of communication so that "as she grew older, her eyes grew less merry and bright, and her fat little face grew thin and pale."46 Alongside her anorexic tendencies comes the daughter's melancholia, or depression. She spends most of her time "looking out of the window...with her head leaning on her hand" and emitting "a sad little sigh."47 The princess thus exhibits what nineteenth century doctors diagnosed as acute melancholia, which combined anorexia, or the lack of appetite with aphonia, or the lack of voice.48 This melancholia stems from the stifling atmosphere of the family home, and the social conventions it attempts to instill. In this vein, the insulation and continual surveillance that characterized the Victorian home produces, in the daughter, a sense of claustrophobic confinement and depression which, in turn, express themselves through disordered eating. In addition to being disordered, her eating is, in fact, disorderly. The princess's refusal of food threatens to disrupt the order and conventions of the palace and, by implication, of the society it represents. As a result, when she refuses to take her place at the dinner table, her family insists that she obeys their regulations, in this sense force-feeding her, negating her attempts to establish her autonomy and appropriating her voice, or newly found means of selfexpression. The princess, in turn, internalizes the surveillance of her family, becoming her own judge and punisher. In this manner, when the princess begins to cry in the privacy of her room, she quickly wipes her tears away, "remembering that her ladies would call this naughty."49 Upon realizing "how pale little Ursula was, and how little she ate, and that there was no talking or laughing allowed,"50 Taboret, the princess's fairy godmother, decides to kidnap Ursula, take her to a different home, and replace her with a toy princess. Significantly, then, the 46  Ibid., 156. Ibid. 48 Brumberg, 104. 49 De Morgan, 161. 47  101  fairy godmother follows Gull's prescription for the treatment of an anorexic daughter. She removes the princess from her home environment, and transfers her to a new family. And, indeed, when Ursula finds herself in a humble cottage of fishers, she accepts bread and milk from her "new mother." Moreover, the princess, by engaging in cleaning and needlework, becomes "so useful that they could not have done without her."51 She thus transforms from a cipher of social status to an independently functioning and productive individual. When the king decides to turn over the rule to his toy daughter, the fairy godmother decides that the time has come to reveal the true state of affairs. She strikes off the head of the toy to prove its artificiality, and reintroduces Ursula as the "real woman." Yet far from rejoicing at the return of Ursula, the courtiers are shocked whenever she speaks or moves, and mourn the loss of "our sweet Princess."52 They nostalgically reminisce about the doll's decorum, applauding the propriety of the toy princess who, "even after her head was struck off behaved so beautifully, and only said, 'Just so.'" 53 Ursula, in turn, reacts to her re-imprisonment by resorting to her old self-destructive patterns of behaviour, growing thin and pale, and fearing to speak above a whisper. Taboret, realizing that the princess will never be compatible with the conventions of the palace, returns to the court their toy princess, and grants Ursula the freedom to return to her fishing village. The fairy godmother proceeds to upbraid the court for their folly, accusing them that: 'when you had that bit of wood-and-leather Princess, you could behave well enough to it, but now that you have a real flesh-and-blood woman, you none of you care for her.'54  50  Ibid., 157. Ibid., 166. 52 Ibid., 173. 53 Ibid. 54 Ibid. 173-174. 51  102  IV: "A Toy Princess": Observing and Representing the Body While "A Toy Princess" illustrates the dynamics which contributed to the emergence of anorexia nervosa as a modern disease, it also incorporates and comments on questions of perception and observation, of the production of images and of concerns surrounding the status of original versus copy - of "that bit of wood and leather" versus "real flesh-and-blood." These problems of vision and mimesis are intertwined with issues about the body and the operation of social power. Crary stipulates that the emergence of a distinctly modern nineteenth century visual order saw the replacement of the spectator - the passive onlooker at a spectacle - by the observer, one who sees within a prescribed set of possibilities.35 The courtiers in "A Toy Princess" figure as just such observers. Embedded in a system of discursive and social restrictions, they fail to observe the queen's wasting disease: "every day she grew thinner and paler. The courtiers were much too polite to notice how ill their young queen looked."56 They cannot interpret the text of her body. Her bodily representation lies outside of their conventions of observation and representation. The courtiers cannot perceive and observe that which is not socially sanctioned - that which has no legitimate visual paradigmatic precursor. Social conventions, in the form of the mandate of politeness, structure the ways in which the courtiers see and dictate what they can and cannot observe. The queen falls outside the realm of permissible representations and thus her desperate attempts to arrest visually the attention of the observers paradoxically renders her invisible. Taboret purchases the Toy Princess at a shop. The text then makes a connection between the visual order and the production, circulation and consumption of goods, highlighting the status of the image as a commodity. The image inhabits a similar position as currency: both are circulating and exchangeable representations severed from their referent. The shopkeeper, moreover, fashions the Toy Princess from a portrait presented to him by Taboret: "I want it to  103  look exactly like this," the godmother instructs him, "and so saying she took a portrait of Ursula S7  out of her bosom and gave it to the old man who examined it carefully."  Like artists such as  Rossetti and physicians such as Gull, the shopkeeper utilizes the (photographic) portrait as a template for further illustrations, whether in the form of paintings or wood-cut illustrations or, in CO  this case, a "wood and leather Princess."  In effect, what the shopkeeper fashions is a  simulacrum of a simulacrum. This destabilization and mobilization of the image illustrates a development that Crary identifies as a characteristic component of the modern visual order, the emergence of a new kind of sign - "potentially identical objects produced in an indefinite series."59 The Toy Princess, or simulacrum, that the shopkeeper creates is "so like the Princess Ursula that no one could have told them apart."60 The courtiers fail to discriminate between the original and the copy - the "real" and the artistic representation. They believe the simulacrum to be the real Princess, the fictional creation to be the factual being: "little did they think it was not she, but a toy Princess placed there in her stead."61 Moreover, when they find out the real Princess is "only a sham"62 they select the imitation over the real person - Art over Nature. The fact that the courtiers prefer the counterfeit to the original exemplifies what Nancy Armstrong terms the "extensive and systematic reversal of original and copy" which occurs in a nineteenth century visual order dominated by the photographic image.63 Accordingly, as the Toy Princess takes the place of Ursula, the representation becomes reality and the visual order becomes "the order of things themselves."64  " Crary, 5-6. 56 De Morgan, 154. "ibid., 158. 58 Ibid., 174. 59 Crary, 12. 60 De Morgan, 160. 61 Ibid., 165. 62 Ibid., 169. 63 Nancy Armstrong, Fiction in the Age of Photography (Cambridge, Harvard UP, 1999) 22. 64 Armstrong, 19.  104  V: Illustrating "A Toy Princess" In what ways might William De Morgan's illustration comment on the concerns of visuality and female illness that pervade the text? Though a close friend of Pre-Raphaelite artists such as Edward Burne-Jones, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Ford Madox-Brown and William Morris, De Morgan remained on the outskirts of the Pre-Raphaelite circle.65 He never seriously pursued a career in painting, and considered himself only a "feeble and discursive dabbler in picturemaking."66 At the age of twenty-five, De Morgan turned to making stained-glass windows, which he continued until 1872, when he shifted his focus to pottery and ceramics.67 The period from 1872-1881, which Stirling terms "The Chelsea Period" after the location of his home and business, marked a new era in De Morgan's career. It was a time of transition in his art, when he worked both with stained glass and pottery, and was interested in experimenting with new mediums and techniques. He continued to produce a few paintings, chiefly in order to experiment with different surfaces and pigments.68 One of these paintings, The Alchemist's Daughter, shows the influence of Pre-Raphaelitism on De Morgan's work (figure 19). It was during this period that De Morgan produced the illustrations for Mary's book of fairy tales On a Pincushion and Other Fairy Tales. One of the workers in De Morgan's pottery studio, a Mr. Bale, recollects observing the artist create the illustrations: I remember seeing him make his own engravings for illustrations of a Nursery book written by his sister; it was a very clever dodge - this is how it was done. He would get a sheet of window glass; upon that he spread a very thin coating of his paste, or white ground, which he used for his tiles, just simply let it dry, without heating it, and he then used a fine needle and scratched or engraved the subject, just as anyone would do an engraving on steel! And where he wanted greater depth in the block, he piled his paste high up. When all was then dried by the fire he pours over it, to the depth of a metal block, say three-quarters of an inch of molten sulphur or brimstone. This used to come clean away, and he would send this block of sulphur to the printers and they could print direct from it, but on account of the pressure they used to make a metal cast instead. I  65  Stirling, 71. Ibid., 77. 67 Ibid. 68 Ibid., 82-83. 66  105  should very much like to get one of those Nursery books illustrated by him; they will be very valuable as a specimen of his work.69 De Morgan's illustration for "A Toy Princess" bears a certain similarity to The Alchemist's Daughter. The Alchemist and the shopkeeper are both aging men with long white beards and wear long-sleeved robes and caps of a soft material. Although Mary De Morgan stipulates that the shop contains "sugar, and dresses, and hats," the shelves in the illustration display a variety of bottles and potions, making the shop resemble not so much a commodity outlet as a laboratory. The Alchemist's Daughter also features bottles and vials; the daughter holds one such vial in front of a flame, prepared to concoct some sort of potion. The father, meanwhile, gazes intently at a large book he holds open in front of him. The Alchemist's Daughter thus depicts the woman participating in the production of knowledge. In The Toy Princess, however, the woman becomes the object of knowledge (figure 20). The alchemist/shopkeeper's gaze transfers from the open volume to the girl. Instead of reading the written text he reads the text of the body; instead of consuming knowledge he produces it. The relationship between creator and creation is further emphasized through the associative linking between the shopkeeper, who places a proprietorial and fetishizing hand on the doll's hair, and Pygmalion - a popular nineteenth century subject for depiction (and an apt metaphor of the Victorian artist's relationship with his illustrated women) who, discontent with women who failed to meet his own ideals, creates the artistic embodiment of his fantasies who then, in turn, 71  transforms into a "real" woman.  While the dynamics of the illustration indicate the  relationship between artist and artwork, they also suggest the dynamic between photographer and photographed. His action of physically adjusting and positioning the Princess's body, demonstrates how the photograph functioned to frame the body within cultural and aesthetic discourses and to position it within a set of social relations. The photographer operated within 69 70  Quoted in Stirling, 93. De Morgan, 157.  106  these discourses to orchestrate meaningful postures and expressions through the arrangement of the hand, the hands, the shoulders and so forth. In so doing, the photographer produced a highly coded and painstakingly constructed representation. The illustration depicts the episode in which the shopkeeper shows his newly created simulacrum to Taboret, instructing her to "look at it! Examine it all over and see if you find a flaw anywhere."72 In illustrating a scene about observation and the gaze, the visual text forefronts just such dynamics. The vertically positioned rectangular plate mimics the appearance, and thus the function, of a framed painting. In addition to assuming the shape of a frame, it bears the title of the "painting" (The Toy Princess) directly below the representation. The presence of the title not only contributes to the mimesis of a painting, but also creates a hybrid of verbal and visual narrative techniques within the illustration itself, which localizes the hybridity that characterizes the picture book as a whole. By framing his illustration as a painting, De Morgan places the reader in the position of viewer, appraising a work of art (the illustration). As the artwork replicates just such an assessment in its depiction of an audience viewing a creation, the reader then at once replicates and participates in the dynamics unfolding within the text, adding another judging gaze to that of the evaluating audience and becoming, in turn, a type of surveying panopticon. Within the illustration itself, the toy princess endures the authoritative examination and surveillance of her "authors" or creators. With her downcast eyes, the doll becomes, literally, the object of their gaze. Her downcast eyes break the link of reciprocal communication established by shared eye contact, thus setting up a clear hierarchy of viewing subject and viewed object. In depicting both a man and a woman looking at the objectified female, the illustration appears to give equal place to the female gaze. However, closer examination reveals that the site of scopophilic power actually lies solely with the male. Because Taboret is standing and therefore See Edward Burne-Jones's Pygmalion series.  107  occupies a more elevated position, her eyes are directed downward and are thus veiled by the eyelids. Although she gazes upon the Toy Princess, with her downcast eyes she paradoxically replicates her objectified status. The shopkeeper, conversely, because seated, is almost level with the Princess and thus gazes directly outward. Significantly, then, his are the only eyes visible, the only gaze privileged. While the illustration depicts the photographic production, it also reproduces the dynamics of the examination room. We have seen how Gull's photographs rendered his patients into "types" -fair examples of the whole. Just as Gull's photographs bear the labels Miss A and Miss B - , so too does De Morgan's illustration bear the label "The Toy Princess." In modifying the label from "A Toy Princess" - the title of the fairy-tale - to "The Toy Princess" (emphasis mine), De Morgan transform the princess from being one of many to serving as a representative "type." In emphasizing both the physical and visual positioning and control of the girl's body, the picture illustrates the process of the medical examination that, by the 1870s, included both visual observation and manual manipulation of the body. Moreover, we have seen that Gull's cases are absent of any trace of the patient's own voice and testimony. Gull seems to be more interested in what the body states than in what the patient may have to say. The body then becomes the patient's voice and somatic signifiers her only means of expression. Similarly, the Toy Princess is characterized by her silence: when the shopkeeper asks, "what sort of voice is it to have," Taboret responds, "it need not be talkative at all."73 The princess's voice is erased, her body rendered into a legible text, interpreted by Taboret and the shopkeeper. These two adults are emblematic of the authority of the physician and the mother. As we have seen, in the examination room, the doctor and the mother were the prime observers and interpreters of the patient's body - a situation which, in turn, mirrored the dynamics of the home in which two adults, a male and a female, focused on the girl's body. De Morgan, 160.  108  De Morgan's illustration, in showing that the "shop" can symbolize both a photographic studio and a medical examination room, replicates the verbal multivalence of the text which can be read both as an example of anorexia nervosa and as a statement about the emergence of a new visual regime. This duality of meaning demonstrates that these two trends - that of female illness and new technologies of observation - are not distinct but rather are overlapping components of a single surface. Moreover, by depicting such factual events in a way that problematizes the association between original and copy, "A Toy Princess" illustrates the interrelationship between "hard fact and picturesque fiction" and, in so doing, interrogates their status as binary opposites.  De Morgan, 158.  109  Chapter Six "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup": A Literary (Sub) Version of the Medical Construction of Anorexia Nervosa  If Mary De Morgan's "A Toy Princess" serves as a literary reflection of a pre-existing disease, how might other works of literature depict behaviour that would only later be diagnosed as a medical condition? In what ways might literary representation foreshadow, if not enable, medical representation? How might "fictional" depictions illuminate "factual" conditions? Struwwelpeter - a collection of cautionary verses for children by Heinrich Hoffmann was first published in Frankfurt in 1845 - almost thirty years prior to Gull's diagnosis of anorexia nervosa. Struwwelpeter sold 1,500 copies in the first month after its publication and, by 1846, it was translated into English.1 A psychiatrist and physician, Dr. Hoffmann co-founded a clinic that provided free medical services for the poor and, in 1851, became a physician at the first asylum for epileptics and the mentally ill in Frankfurt.2 Unable to find what he deemed a suitable book to read to his three-year-old son, Dr. Hoffmann wrote and illustrated Struwwelpeter. He based this collection on stories that he would tell young patients awaiting medical examination and treatment in order to render them docile and prevent disorderly conduct.3 This chapter will consider how one of these tales - "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup" - in its depiction of a boy who refuses to eat, wasting away from a chubby youngster to an emaciated corpse, serves as a literary prefiguration of the "scientific anorectic."  Joachim J. Savelsberg,"Struwwelpeter at One Hundred and Fifty: Norms, Control, and Discipline in the Civilizing Process," The Lion and the Unicorn 20.2 (1996) 181. 2 Ibid., 188. 3 Jack Zipes, "Introduction," The Lion and the Unicorn 20.2 (1996) v-vi.  no I: "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup" and the Medical Discourse of Anorexia Nervosa Struwwelpeter consists of a series of tales recounting the disorderly conduct and subsequent punishment of certain individuals. There is the story of Pauline who ignores injunctions against playing with matches and, as a result, burns to death. Then there is the tale of Conrad who, due to his proclivity for thumb sucking, loses both of the said appendages to a scissor-wielding tailor. "Cruel Frederick," who pulls the wings off flies, kills birds and beats small animals is, in turn, viciously attacked by his dog. Bed-ridden with a chewed-up leg, Frederick receives a visit from the "Doctor" who "shook his head,/And made a very great todo/And gave him bitter physic too."4 This reference to the admonishing doctor at the bedside of his young patient likely alludes to the author's own position as physician seeking to inculcate through story-telling virtuous obedience in his wayward patients. The stories that Hoffmann tells in Struwwelpeter recount scenarios of crime and punishment for the purpose of socialization. They are about deviant behaviour, and ways in which deviants can be brought back under the aegis of social norms. The fact that these tales in Struwwelpeter originated in stories told by a physician to his ailing patients suggests that Dr. Heinrich Hoffmann and Dr. William Gull held similar concepts concerning the relation between physical health and social health. As I have argued in Chapter Four, we may conclude from Gull's writings and lectures that he subscribed to the discourse of sanitary reform, which understood disease as deviance from socially acceptable forms of behaviour and stipulated that to cleanse the body of ill health was to cleanse society of moral evils. Since the individual's body affected the social body, in order to control the social body, one must first exert control over the individual body. Moreover, according to this particular 4  Heinrich Hoffmann, "The Story of Cruel Frederick," Struwwelpeter, online, 19th Century German Stories http://www.vcu.edu/hasweb/for/struwwel/friedrich_e.html.  Ill  discourse, the doctor monitors and cures the conscience and emotions as well as healing the body. How does "The Story of Augustus" fit into this medical discourse of illness and health as deviance and conformity? The verse recounts the tale of Augustus, a "plump and hearty healthy boy" who "ate and drank as he was told."5 The text thus links eating to obedience and respecting family order, values and rules. His refusal to eat then threatens the sanctity of the family and transgresses the law it upholds, earning the label of "sin."6 His food refusal occurs quite suddenly, and with no explanation other than his apparent revulsion toward his soup. His food becomes threatening and contaminating, and Augustus cannot bear even to look at it. This sudden aversion prompts his frightened and enraged pleas to "take the soup away! O take the nasty soup away! I won't have any soup today!" The text continues to delineate the wasting away of Augustus as he persists in refusing his soup, despite feeling "weak and ill," until on the fifth day he dies from self-starvation. Augustus' behaviour bears a remarkable similarity to those patterns Gull diagnosed as indicative of anorexia nervosa: chiefly, a refusal to eat with no discernible physiological origin, accompanied by sullen and obstinate willfulness. Augustus' transformation from a "plump and hearty healthy boy" to a vocal protestor parallels Miss C's degeneration from "a nice, plump, good-natured little girl" to someone "loquacious and obstinate."8 If "The Story of Augustus" is based on a tale Dr. Hoffmann told a patient in order to render him docile and prevent disorderly conduct, we can infer that it probably has a biographical foundation in "reality." Dr. Hoffmann was presumably treating a young male patient who refused to eat, and used the story as a means  5  Heinrich Hoffmann, "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup," The English Struwwelpeter or Pretty Stories and Funny Pictures (1845) London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1952) 17. 6 Ibid. 7 Ibid. Gull, "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)," Transactions of the Clinical Society of London (1874)23,27.  112  of impressing upon his patient the perils of not eating "as he was told."9 The story's genesis suggests that, far from being purely fictional, it is, in fact, a type of medical document, insofar as medical documents provide an interpretive narration of symptoms and ailments. As a record of anorexic behaviour, this story challenges the Victorian conception of anorexia nervosa as a "female" disorder. Although Gull did admit that he had "occasionally seen it [anorexia] in males," this marginal comment was his only reference to the presence of the disease in boys or men.10 He continually referred to the disease as a distinctly female condition: "I refer to a peculiar form of disease occurring mostly in young women, and characterised by extreme emaciation... the subjects of this affection are mostly of the female sex."11 Charles Lasegue also emphasized the gender-specificity of the disease: "the cases which have served me as a basis for 19  this memoir are eight in number, all women." As stated earlier, in addition to their construction of anorexia as a female disease, Gull and Lasegue defined it as a feminine condition, rooted in the inherent irrationality of women. Hoffmann's story of a male exhibiting behaviour attributed to an exclusively feminine irrationality thus not only challenges the status of anorexia as a female disease, it also subverts Victorian constructions of gender behaviour. II: "Fictional" Insights Into a "Factual" Disease In his study, Gull failed to consider possible sources for anorexic behaviour, only observing and recording expressions of discontent as evidence of non-conformity to proper feminine codes of behaviour. As an example of a male anorectic, what insight might "The Story of Augustus" provide into the psychodynamics behind food refusal? An abridged version of Struwwelpeter appeared in 1906, as the fifteenth volume of the series The Little One's Library.  9  Hoffrnann, 17. Gull, 22. "Ibid. 12 Charles Lasegue, "On Hysterical Anorexia," Medical Times and Gazette (September 1873) 368. 10  113  Entitled The English Struwwelpeter — Illustrated After Dr. Heinrich Hoffmann's Original Designs, this later version presented an abbreviated and re-worded version of the original: "Story of Augustus" Augustus was a healthy child, With appetite by no means mild. He was in truth a healthful boy Who ate and drank his food with joy. But suddenly and sad for him, He would give way to dainty whim, And shrieked one day, "I will not stoop To eat such nasty stuff as soup." Next day Augustus grew more weak, And scarcely to the cook would speak; He merely said, "I will not stoop To eat such nasty stuff as soup." The third day came, he grew much thinner, Yet still declined to eat his dinner; He merely said, "I will not stoop To eat such nasty stuff as soup." The fourth day came, he gives a moan, Yet still his dinner leaves alone: He weighs still less, grows still less wide; The fifth day came, Augustus died.13 Seemingly minute and insignificant shifts in this version of the text in fact provide an interesting glimpse into themes more latent in the original translation. The original line "he ate and drank as he was told" becomes "who ate and drank his food with joy." Oral consumption thus transforms from a symbolic ritual of duty, obedience and conformity to a sensuous act of self-pleasuring - a means of feeding the emotions, not just the body. Such an emotional reliance upon food suggests that it provides the pleasure, stimulation, care, and feeling of security and well-being not provided by the family. Appetite would then be symptomatic of a lack that Augustus seeks to fill with the substitute of food. This compulsive over-eating, however, treads a narrow line "Story of Augustus," The English Struwwelpeter - Illustrated After Dr. Heinrich Hoffmann's Original Designs. The Little Ones' Library, no. 15 (London: Dean & Son, Ltd, 1906) 21-22.  114  between the sublime and the abject, and part of the ritual and the inescapable allure of this behaviour lies in its very ambiguity. The incorporating mouth of the compulsive eater can never be satisfied - instead of satiating, consumption reproduces the hunger so that no amount can ever be enough. Yet although Augustus' appetite remains unsatiated, his flesh still absorbs the weight of the food that fails to fill. As a result, the - according to the illustrations - overweight Augustus develops a thick layer of fat or blubber. Could this fat serve as a means of self-defense - a layer of armour to insulate and protect? In a study on the cultural history of dieting, Hillel Schwartz identifies the hunger of overweight children as an attempt to establish a barrier of flesh to guard them against an over-protective mother.14 The fear, then, of being metaphorically consumed by the devouring love of a smothering mother can lead to the child becoming, himself, the devourer. A second interesting change to the text also relates to these embedded psychological and metaphoric images. The protest "I won't have any soup today" in the original text is translated in The English Striiwwelpeter as "I will not stoop/To eat such nasty stuff as soup." The choice of the word "stoop," in tandem with the adjective "nasty," also used as a descriptor of soup in the original version, seems of particular importance in this context. It signifies an abasement on the part of Augustus and thus implies a symbolic hierarchical division between the eater and the edible, wherein the eating subject occupies an elevated or pure space, and the object in question represents a source of dirt or defilement which, if ingested by the subject, will contaminate him. The mouth then serves as the orifice connecting inside and outside - the gaping hole that must be shut if the subject is to keep the inner self closed off and protected from the outer environment. From what element(s) in the outer environment might Augustus want to protect himself? Julia Kristeva argues that fear of the "uncontrollable generative mother" can repel the individual  14 Hillel Schwartz, Never Satisfied: A Cultural History of Diets, Fantasies and Fat (N.Y.: The Free Press, 1986) 291.  115  from the body.15 Does Augustus then close off his devouring mouth in an attempt to separate himself from his mother and his family? According to Kristeva, food loathing "is perhaps the most elementary and archaic form of abjection."16 "Dirt," or the object of abjection, is that which contravenes the systemic ordering - that which transgresses boundaries and threatens one's stable and enclosed identity. Repugnance toward a food item is a method of selfprotection that turns the subject away from the object of defilement. In the case of "Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup," the food item that he rejects is soup. As an item of nourishment that definitively fits neither in the category of solids nor in the category of liquids, the soup inhabits the in-between state characteristic of the abject. Moreover, as the soup is most likely proffered by his family - and his mother in particular - then Augustus' balking at the offered soup is a symbolic act of endeavoured separation from the mother and father. Ingesting the food, in this scenario, would be tantamount to incorporating the mother and father, and increasing the subject's dependence of identity and reliance upon his nurturing/nutritive parents. In order to establish his identity as separate and autonomous, he must repel the "Other," in this case by rejecting the symbolically invested soup. This multi-faceted process of ingestion, repulsion, dependence and autonomy pervades not only the text proper, but spills beyond the parameters of the verse, invading the peripheries of the document and manifesting itself in the material construction of the 1906 penny booklet. All four advertisements placed at the beginning and at the end of the booklet promote dietary and medical products for infants and small children. Allenburys' Diet claims to provide "a valuable restorative food in sickness or convalescence." Allenburys' Foods proselytizes, "Feed a babe on Nature's lines and he will grow up strong and healthy," and promises, "children fed on Allenburys' Foods are neither fretful nor wakeful." The advertisement offers a free pamphlet on "Infant Feeding." Penning's Children's Powders also offers an advice book containing "valuable 15  Julia Kristeva, Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection, trans. Leon S. Roudiez (NY.: Columbia UP., 1982) 79.  hints on Feeding, Teething, Weaning, Sleeping &c," and touts its powders' ability to "prevent Convulsions." Steedman 's Soothing Powders, in turn, promises to "relieve FEVERISH HEAT" and "prevent FITS, CONVULSIONS, etc." The advertisements say much about the reading community of this particular pennybooklet. Such a specific category of advertisements would clearly target adult readers as opposed to child readers, thus indicating that the edition is designed and produced as much for the parents as it is for the children. What kind of satisfaction or pleasure might the adult readers glean from reading a text such as Struwwelpeter and, in particular, "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup"? Did they place themselves in the position of the punisher or the punished? Would they have experienced a vicarious pleasure in the infliction of pain, or the abject torment of degraded suffering? The particular edition under examination bears the inscription "E. Rolleston" on the frontispiece - in a carefully scripted adult hand. The owner of the booklet adds, in his or her own writing, the missing parts to this abridged version of Struwwelpeter. What purpose do these additions serve? Does Rolleston include them for the greater edification of the children - to increase and prolong their delight or terror? Or might they in fact augment the adult's own pleasure? It would seem that not only does the child fear being devoured by his parents, but that the parents, in turn, may fear being devoured by their child. The advertisements at the back of Struwwelpeter, while designed for an adult audience, in their preoccupation with feeding and teething babies, imaginatively configure a monstrous and devouring infant. Are they then simply medical advertisements for parents concerned with their children's well-being, or might they be symptomatic of a far more vast and amorphous cultural fear and obsession with the child as consumer? These fears might very well be the product of the specific cultural and social ethos present in mid- to late Victorian society. Trepidation and displeasure surrounding impending economic, class, colonial and gender change could transfer to 16  Ibid., 2.  117  fear of the child — the harbinger of the "New" threatening to take over, to "devour" so to speak, the "Old."  Ill: The Meaningful Spectacle of Pain and the Visualization of the Anorexic Body In "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup," the layout of the page contributes as much to the meaning of the text as its verbal content. In the original edition, the verbal text occupies the right column of the page, and is divided into four stanzas. The visual text runs vertically down the left column, and horizontally along the bottom, forming an L-shape (figure 21). The visual text plays a crucial role in the readers' apprehension and interpretation of the story. The eye is immediately captured, and captivated, by the pictures. During the reading process, as the eye inevitably travels from left to right, the readers will consume the pictorial representation prior to the verbal; as a result, the pictorial will likely influence the verbal text. The illustrations, divided into separate boxes, are designed to be read episodically, from top to bottom, lending a sense of motion and progression to the representation. The enumerated sequencing, moreover, prevents the readers from absorbing the entire illustration at a glance, forcing them to linger studiously over each picture and every morbid detail. In the first box, a huge Augustus stands beside a dinner table - bare except for a bowl of yellow soup and a spoon. Arms thrown above his head, feet stomping, eyebrows furrowed and mouth set in a grim line of frustrated anger and defiance, Augustus displays a monstrous and uncontrollable rage - one that he will turn inwards so that, instead of consuming his soup, he consumes himself, eating away from the inside out. The second box shows Augustus in the same position, with his tunic now drooping from his upper arms. But this time the mouth, set in his hollowed, shadowed face, is torn open in a silent, harrowed scream - of anger or of despair? In the following illustration, Augustus has shrunk to a tiny size, the empty, consuming mouth now but a slash. The final box portrays Augustus as grossly thin, his individual body parts and  118  features barely identifiable, the feet so small the viewer can no longer see the eye-catching red of his boots. The figure walks toward the grave in the neighbouring box, arms outstretched in an embrace. Augustus thus literally disappears, becoming invisible in a type of self-erasure that ends in the grave. In her discussion of hunger artists, Maud Ellman emphasizes the reliance of selfstarvation as a form of protest upon an audience or set of viewers.17 Just as the efficacy of the political protestor's fast depends upon the witnessing of his pain and suffering, so does the "success" of the child's fast depend upon the observance of his "imprisoners" - or his family. In what ways may the readers, in viewing the visual spectacle of Augustus' self-consumption, then assume the role of audience, completing the meaning of the bodily text by either validating or negating the actions of the "hunger artist"? The scenes of bodily torture and painful punishment present in Struwwelpeter, particularly in "The Story of Augustus," have a long lineage in children's literature. It was far from uncommon to portray the demise of children in such stories. For example, James Janeway's eighteenth century^ Token For Children; being an Exact Account of the Conversion, Holy and Exemplary Lives and Joyful Deaths of Several YOUNG CHILDREN, which reached the height of its popularity during the Victorian period, contains scenes bearing titles such as: "Of the excellent Carriage of a Child upon his Death-Bed when but Seven Years old," and "Of the pious Life and Joyful Death of a Child."18 Such stories, in their fetishistic lingering over child pain, illness and death, indoctrinated in children the norms of civility and obedience. While the portrayal of infant death may have served to shape individuals in line with social regulations, it could also provide the parent with an illicit titillation of pleasure. Such a dynamic unfurls with disturbing clarity in Mrs. Sherwood's The History of the Fairchild Family; 17  Maud Ellman, The Hunger Artists: Starving, Writing and Imprisonment (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard UP, 1993) 17. 18 James Janeway, A Token For Children (Boston: Z. Fowle, 1771) 86, 30.  119  or, the Child's Manual: Being a Collection of Stories Calculated to Shew the Importance and Effects of a religious Education, a popular early nineteenth century collection of morality tales. One passage in particular illustrates this imbrication of the spectacle of pain, the formation of docile bodies and sadistic pleasure. Mr. Fairchild takes his children to a dilapidated old house deep in a dark wood in order to punish them for quarrelling and to forewarn against possible repercussions: Just between the house and the wood stood a gibbet, on which the body of a man hung in chains: it had not yet fallen to pieces, although it had hung there some years. The body had on a blue coat, a silk handkerchief around the neck, with shoes and stockings, and every other part of the dress still entire: but the face of the corpse was so shocking that the children could not look at it... 'That is a gibbet,' said Mr. Fairchild; 'and the man who hangs upon it is a murderer - one who first hated, and afterwards killed his brother! When people are found guilty of stealing, they are hanged upon the gallows, and taken down as soon as they are dead: but when a man commits a murder, he is hanged in iron chains upon a gibbet, till his whole body falls to pieces, that all who pass by may take warning by the example.' Whilst Mr. Fairchild was speaking, the wind blew strong and shook the body upon the gibbet, rattling the chains by which it hung. 'Oh! Let us go, Papa!' said the children, pulling Mr. Fairchild's coat. 'Not yet,' said Mr. Fairchild: T must tell you the history of that wretched man before we go from this place.'1  Mr. Fairchild forces his children to remain gazing at the decomposing body for a protracted period of time while he relishingly enumerates the punishment endured by the criminal. In essence then, the parent obtains a sadistic pleasure out of inflicting mental torture upon his children and by imaginatively subjecting them to bodily torment. These displays of corporal punishment thus operated according to a pedagogy of fear designed not only to manipulate the child into becoming the innocent and socially acceptable figure so assiduously celebrated in Victorian discourse, but also to enable the adults to work through their fears and anxieties concerning the child.  Mrs. Sherwood, The History of the Fairchild Family; or, the Child's Manual: Being a Collection of Stories Calculated to Shew the Importance and Effects of a Religious Education (London: J. Hatchard, 1818) 57.  120  Mortimer Lee FlavelFs "Poor Little Body," a mid-Victorian child-directed morality tract, further exemplifies these complex machinations involving children, food, pain, pleasure, discipline and conformity: How easy it would be to hurt your poor little body! If it were to fall into the fire,it would be burned up. If hot water were to fall upon it, it would be scalded. If it were to fall into deep water, and not be taken out very soon, it would be drowned. If a great knife were to run through your body, the blood would come out. If a great box were to fall on your head, your head would be crushed. If you were to fall out of the window, your neck would be broken. If you were not to eat some food for a few days, your little body would be very sick, your breath would stop, and you would grow cold, and you would soon be dead. You see that you have a very weak little body. Can you keep your own body from being sick, and from being hurt? You should try not to hurt yourself, but God only can keep your body from all harm, from fire, from water, from wounds and bruises, and all kinds of sickness. Kneel down and say to God, 'Pray, keep my poor little body from getting hurt.' God will hear you and go on taking care of 20  you. The above passage lucidly illustrates the self-abjection, instinct to self-mutilation, and the alienation of, and lack of control over, the body suffered by the victim of an eating disorder, who must "try not to hurt" him or herself. In addition to this masochistic impulse of the anorectic, the passage displays a viciously fetishistic sadism on the part of the speaker/reader. The adult orator lingers over the imaginary spectacle of the child body in pain, devising various gruesome means of inflicting corporal punishment upon the child. Yet by transferring the agency of punishment from the adult to the child, s/he manages to obtain moral impunity while still procuring the satisfaction of observing the physical and emotional torment of an/Other. The child thus internalizes the disciplinary surveillance of the adult, so that the punisher and the punished coexist in a single entity. The prologue to Struwwelpeter adds another dimension to the reception of the verbal/visual text. The opening page of the picture book carries the following inscription:  121  When the children have been good, That is, be it understood, Good at meal times, good at play, Good all night and good all day, ~ They shall have the pretty things Merry Christmas always brings. Naughty, romping girls and boys Tear their clothes and make a noise Spoil their pinafores and frocks, And deserve no Christmas-box. Such as these shall never look At this pretty picture book.21 The book thus purports to be for "good" children only. What function does this configuration of an exclusive intended audience serve? This textual identification of the readers as "good" conceptually separates and distances them from the patently "bad" characters depicted in the text. As a result, the readers then fail to empathize with the children in the stories. Instead, the epilogue places them above their textual counterparts, setting up a reader/character or spectator/spectacle hierarchy of righteous/abject. While some readers may obtain vicarious glee from the punishment of the erring children, others will, while experiencing the sadistic delight of inflicting corporal punishment and of witnessing the spectacle of pain, concomitantly place themselves in the position of the punished. What may then occur when they internalize this dichotomous split between punisher and punished - becoming themselves at once the abject body and the righteous lacerator? Such a dynamic seems to duplicate the mental and physical actions of the anorectic who develops an addiction to self-inflicted pain. Tellingly, "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup," depicts just such a scenario. Dr. Hoffmann's injunction to look at the picture - to observe the spectacle of Augustus' hunger strike - places the readers in the position of viewing witnesses. Yet, far from vicariously experiencing Augustus' pain, they would obtain a grim delight in the rapidity of his selfobliteration - or so Hoffmann seems to intend. This exposes the other side of the spectacle of Mortimer Lee Flavell "Poor Little Body," The Peep of the Day; or, A series of the earliest religious instructions the infant mind is capable of receiving (London: T. Hatchard, 1858) 3-5.  122  pain: instead of empathizing with the tortured, the viewers long to be the torturer. This dual response of repulsion and attraction, fascination and revulsion produced in the readers through their visual devouring of the text attests to the power of pain: for the viewers, witnessing the pain of another can be intoxicating, liberating and empowering because they are not the ones suffering. But whereas these dynamics may operate smoothly in Hoffmann's other "children's" tales that feature clearly external systems of punishment inflicted on the rebellious subject, they become more than slightly obfuscated in the story of the anorexic Augustus, wherein the protagonist takes these systems into his own hands, becoming himself at once the punisher and the punished. The viewers find themselves enthralled with the spectacle of his self-inflicted pain as they visually devour the images of his self-devouring. In this sense, by visually "consuming" Augustus, they cannibalistically partake in his ritualistic auto-ingestion, satiating themselves with his flesh and yet, simultaneously, imaginatively enduring the gnawing away of their own selves. These dynamics seem to conform to those of what Foucault designates the "spectacle of the scaffold." This system of punishment relies on the people - on an audience whose "real and immediate presence was required for the performance."22 The presence of an audience was necessary in order to interpret and complete the meaning of the spectacle of pain. Additionally, the audience simultaneously imaginatively inhabited the binaric positions of punisher and that of punished: "not only must people know, they must see with their own eyes. Because they must be made to be afraid; but also because they must be the witnesses, the guarantors, of the punishment, and because they must to a certain extent take part in it."23  21  Hoffmann, 1. Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison, trans. Alan Sheridan (N.Y.: Vintage, 1977) 57. 23 Ibid., 58. 22  123  The theatrical reproduction of the crime in the spectacle of the scaffold was replaced by "hundreds of tiny theatres of punishment" as monarchical punishment yielded to the representational punishment of reforming jurists.24 Representational punishment calculated the penalty of a crime based not on its atrocity but on its possible repetition. In this new economy of punishment, one punished just enough in order to prevent the crime's repetition. The example of punishment was thus no longer "a ritual that manifests [sovereign power] but a sign that serves as an obstacle."  Analogical in nature, representational punishment made the penalty  correspond as closely as possible to the crime committed. By thus apparently following a natural sequence of events, punishment no longer seemed the result of an arbitrary human power, as with the sovereign. In analogical punishment, power was concealed behind "nature," and the power that punished remained hidden. There existed an obvious association between the crime and its punishment, and the body of the punished turned into an "obstacle-sign" - a representation.26 The idea of pain held greater significance than actual pain and the representation of pain more importance than its corporeal realty. As punishment began to make use not of the body, but of technologies of representation, there occurred a shift in the point of application of power from the monarchically-branded body to a "play of representations and signs circulating discreetly but necessarily and evidently in the minds of all."27 The representation must circulate both widely and rapidly in order to deter others from engaging in similar behaviour. In this manner, public punishment shifted from the festival and ceremony of the scaffold to "an ever-open book," a "legible lesson," and a "school."28 The criminal became a source of instruction and punishment, "a fable" that taught a lesson.29  Ibid., 113. Ibid., 94. Ibid., 106. Ibid., 101. Ibid., 111. Ibid., 113.  124  According to Foucault, this system of representational punishment devised by eighteenthcentury reformists was shortly replaced by the coercive disciplining of the prison institution. In what ways, however, might "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup" act as just this type of representation? The hunger striker, whose body wastes away as a result of his rebellion, conforms to Foucault's categorization of analogical punishment. Accordingly, Augustus, in his act of fatal self-starvation, becomes the victim of his own "crime." As the anorectic has internalized the punitive mechanism, inflicting the punishment on his own body, the power that punishes remains hidden and, as the body progressively deteriorates due to inanition, the punishment seems to follow a natural sequence - a result of illness and the logical repercussion of the offending action. Augustus' body becomes an obstacle-sign - a representation calculated to serve as an obstacle and to prevent the repetition of such actions. It becomes a text to be read and learned - a "legible lesson." The representation of his punishment proliferates and circulates in another such "ever-open book." Struwwelpeter, as I mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, sold 1,500 copies in the first month after its publication, and in the following few years was translated into multiple languages (English in 1846, Danish in 1847 and Russian in 1848).30 It thus circulated widely as a highly visible statement of crime and punishment. Such a representation of punishment is meant to instruct its readers in the necessity of obedience and deter them from similar behaviour. Unlike the youngsters in A Token for Children, however, Augustus does not embrace death with placid docility. Although he incurs the punishment of death for his obstinate recalcitrance, he is neither repentant nor subdued. Since Augustus resists power to the very end, there could be an invitation to civil disobedience embedded within this cautionary tale. The dynamic of power/resistance at work in the cautionary tale is also inscribed on the body of the anorectic as  Savelsburg, 181.  125  Augustus, in resisting power, cannot escape or transcend its structures, but strategically acts within it. IV: Dr. Hoffmann's Illustrations and Dr. Gull's Photographs: Towards An Understanding of Evidence How can such an understanding of the representation of the body in pain in "The Story of Augustus" shed light on some of the representational dynamics operating in Gull's medical documents? The sequentialized layout of the illustrations of "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup" mimics and reverses the "before and after" visual depictions of the various stages of a disease present in a medical text. In a sense, Hoffman's illustrative evidence prefigures the use of photographic illustrations as visual evidence in medical and psychiatric documents. Indeed, his marriage of illustrative renditions of the progressive stages of illness with a verbal text narratively interpreting the pictures is a precursor of the verbal-visual collaboration of Hugh Welch Diamond's photographs and John Conolly's narration in "The Physiognomy of Insanity" (1858).31 While Hoffmann's numbered diagrams depict the progression of Augustus' illness, they monitor his demise from a state of health to death. Gull's "before and after" photographic illustrations of his anorexic patients, conversely, chart their transformation from illness to health. While Gull depicts the movement from social deviance to conformity, Hoffman depicts the reversal of this process. As opposed to harnessing the regime of representational punishment, Gull's illustrations are informed by punishment as a means of targeting and reforming the soul through the coercion and training of the body. Both sets of illustration, however, serve visually to impress upon the viewer the perils of disobedience and the benefits of socialization.  31  John Conolly, "Case Studies from The Physiognomy of Insanity" The Medical Times and Gazette (1858), in The Face of Madness: Hugh W. Diamond and the Origin of Psychiatric Photography, ed. Sander L. Gilman (NY.: Brunner/Mazel, 1976)27-65.  126  Hoffmann's illustrations, like those in Gull's medical text, serve as visual evidence to support the verbal descriptions. Just as Gull refers the reader back to the illustrations throughout his argument, so does Hoffmann urge the reader to examine the visual evidence he provides: "Next day, now look, the picture shows/How lank and lean Augustus grows!...Look at him, now the fourth day's come!/He scarcely weighs a sugar-plum."32 Gull and Hoffmann's repeated injunction to "look" does more than encourage the readers to peruse avidly the case studies; it forces them to linger studiously over each picture and every morbid detail. The similarities between their methods of documentation suggest that, despite the fact that Gull's medical text seems to be informed by a disciplinary as opposed to spectacular regime of punishment, the reader/viewer is as implicated in the process of producing/interpreting the meaning of the visual text as is the observer of the spectacle. Although Foucault asserts that the training of behaviour in a disciplinary society "is a relation that not only renders the dimension of the spectacle useless" but "excludes it," it would seem that the readers of the anorexic body play a crucial role in both the "performance" and the "training" they behold. The readers' responses of empathy, pleasure, titillation, disturbance, anxiety, fascination and so forth can subtly shift the meaning of the medical text and by implication the larger cultural text. Christina Rossetti's "Goblin Market" (1862), which I discuss in the following chapter, also comments on the anorexic body and the spectacle of pain. As in "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup," in "Goblin Market," the anorexic body duplicates the function of the cautionary tale in which it is embedded. I will argue that Rossetti's poem illuminates the ways in which the mid-Victorian visual regime of department store exhibits, commodified images and photographic sensibility provided the cultural milieu necessary to the emergence of modem forms of disordered eating. In such a society predicated upon the primacy of the image, viewers and readers of the body play a crucial role in both encoding and decoding the actions of the disorderly eater, in so doing, either subtly reinforcing or critiquing the dominant classificatory system. 32  Hoffmann, 17.  127  Chapter Seven "Taste Them and Try": Oral Consumption and Commodity Culture in Christina Rossetti's "Goblin Market" According to her brother, William Michael Rossetti, Christina Rossetti denied that she meant "anything profound by this fairy tale - it is not a moral apologue consistently carried out in detail." Yet she admitted that "the incidents are such as to be at any rate suggestive, and different minds may be likely to read different messages into them."1 "Goblin Market," first published in 1862, serves as a locus for, and a commentary on, the convergence of various seemingly discrete thematic strands: artistic competition and the struggle for control over representation, seeing and looking in a commodity culture increasingly dominated by a photographic sensibility, and oral consumption as a means of controlling the "text" of the body and the way it is read.  I: "Goblin Market": The Victorian Woman as Artist and Art Work Engaging in amateur sketching and writing was considered permissible and even appropriate for Victorian middle-class women. In fact, it was the only form of "work," apart from their needlepoint or embroidery, with which they could occupy their time. Indeed, it was a sign that they had time that needed occupying. Thus, this type of work constituted a middle-class signifier that separated women from their working-class counterparts for whom work was a necessity. However, to write or paint for a public audience moved the woman from the "private sphere" of amateur occupation to the "public sphere" of professional production. Such a move into the traditionally male-dominated realm of production and consumption - or "buying" and "selling," to use the terminology of "Goblin Market" - threatened both the male monopoly of the artistic marketplace, and conventional definitions of male and female spheres of activity. 1  William Michael Rossetti, "Note," The Poetical Works of Christina Georgina Rossetti, with Memoir and Notes etc by William Michael Rossetti (London. Macmillan, 1906) 459.  128  To allay anxieties surrounding the woman writer and artist, society relegated them to working within certain genres - for the writer, devotional pieces and children's stories, and for the artist, watercolour flower paintings.2 The female artist was, moreover, most often recognized by society in terms of her relationship to a male, such as a brother or husband.3 One has only to consider how Elizabeth Siddal's work was continually evaluated in relation to that of her husband, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, and deemed derivative as a consequence. In order to try to establish an identity apart from their male counterparts, women artists be they writers, painters or illustrators - would often form sisterhoods, which functioned as a type of mutual support group.4 These sisterhoods offered latent if not overt resistance to the male-dominated artistic sphere and to conventional depictions of women. Paradoxically, these artists at times sought to produce alternative meanings by working within prevailing representational stereotypes of women. Siddal, for example, rejected the popular artistic eroticization of "The Lady of Shalott"; in her own drawing, she uncovered the individuality of the woman artist beneath her symbolic representation. Why might Christina Rossetti have been attracted to the notion of a Sisterhood? Rossetti struggled to establish herself as an artist - both of words and images. In addition to writing poetry, she attempted to draw, even taking lessons from Ford Madox Brown.5 She was never able to market any of her drawings, however; for example, her own illustrations accompanying her text for Sing-Song: A Nursery Rhyme Book yielded to those of the more established and  2  Nina Auerbach and U.C. Knoepflmacher, eds, Forbidden Journeys: Fairy Tales and Fantasies by Victorian Women Writers (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1992) 1; Pamela Gerrish Nunn, Problem Pictures: Women and Men in Victorian Painting (Hants, England: Scolar Press, 1995) 29; Jan Marsh and Pamela Gerrish Nunn, Women Artists and the Pre-Raphaelite Movement (London: Virago Press, 1989) 15. 3 Marsh and Nunn, 157. 4 Clarissa Campbell Orr, "Women in the Victorian Art World," in Women in the Victorian Art World, ed. Clarissa Campbell Orr (Manchester: Manchester UP, 1995) 17. 5 Sharon Smulders, Christina Rossetti Revisited (N.Y'.: Twayne Publishers, 1996) 8.  129  marketable Arthur Hughes.6 Although Rossetti was excluded from the production of representational works, she herself was consumed as just such a work - serving, as she did, as model for the Virgin Mary in Dante Gabriel's The Girlhood of the Virgin Mary (exhibited 1849) and Ecce Ancilla Domini! (exhibited 1850). On December 24th, 1856, Rossetti composed a poem "In an Artist's Studio," concerning the imprisonment of a woman within an artistic image: "One face looks out from all his canvasses,/One selfsame figure sits or walks or leans:/We found her hidden just behind those screens." While this poem is traditionally interpreted as referring to Elizabeth Siddal, it seems both plausible and productive, especially in relation to issues raised in "Goblin Market," to read the poem as also self-referential. On January 1st, 1850, the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood published the first issue of The Germ, a journal dedicated to expressing the Pre-Raphaelites' theories on art through works of literature and engravings. The journal was a failure, however, and was discontinued in 1853. Although the P.R.B., desiring to preserve its masculine status, excluded Christina Rossetti from formal membership in their group, the Brotherhood had no qualms about using her material and exploiting her talent in the attempt to increase the merits of The Germ. William Michael Rossetti, in his introduction to the 1901 facsimile reprint of the first four issues of the periodical, states that "the attractiveness of The Germ depended upon the writing... of Messrs. Woolner, Patmore and Orchard, my sister, and above all my brother, and, among the artist-etchers, Mr. Holman-Hunt."8 Christina Rossetti contributed to the first issue a poem entitled "Dream Land." Of this contribution, William Michael Rossetti states: 6  Christina Rossetti capitulated to William Michael Rossetti's strong recommendation to hire Hughes to contribute designs for Sing-song (published in 1872 by George Routledge and Sons). See William Michael Rossetti, 15 May 1871, The Diary of William Michael Rossetti J870-J873, ed. Odette Bornand (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977)61. 7 Christina Rossetti, "In an Artist's Studio," The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti, vol. 3, ed. Rebecca Crump (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State UP, 1979) 264,11. 1-3. 8 William Michael Rossetti, "Introduction," The Germ, the 1901 Facsimile Reprint, ed. William Michael Rossetti (London: Elliot Stock, 1901) 11, reprinted in The Complete Writings and Pictures of Dante Gabriel Rossetti: A Hypermedia Research Archive, ed. Jerome J. McGann http://ierFerson.village.virginia.edu.2020/  130  Though my sister was only just nineteen when this remarkable lyric was printed, she had already made some slight appearance in the published type (not to speak of the privately printed "Verses" of 1847), as two small poems of hers had been inserted in The Athenaeum in October 1848. "Dream Land" was written in April 1849, before The Germ was thought of; and it may be as well to say that all my sister's contributions to this magazine were produced without any reference to publication in that or in any particular form.9 In describing his sister's previous publications as "some slight appearance," William Michael Rossetti reveals how, for a Victorian woman writer, to publish was tantamount to putting herself - her body - on public display; to exhibit her work was, to the Victorian mind, synonymous with self-exhibition.10 Moreover, since publishing involved transgressing the boundaries of the private sphere to sell one's work (and thus one's body) in the public sphere, this act also marked the Victorian woman writer as sexually promiscuous - as a "fallen woman." As Lynda Nead has revealed, anxieties surrounding the issue of female employment led to the depiction of working women as transgressors not only of domestic boundaries, but of moral boundaries as well. In this manner, economic activity became imaginatively linked with sexual activity.11 It was, perhaps, to avoid such moral implication inherent in the act of publishing that all of Christina Rossetti's contributions to The Germ were produced "without any reference to publication in that or in any particular form" - either anonymously or pseudonymously. William Michael Rossetti's statements inadvertently reveal the extent to which her brothers guided, if not dictated, Christina Rossetti's literary production and public reputation. In reference to "A Pause of Thought," written by Christina Rossetti in 1848, and published in the February 1850 issue of The Germ, he further attempts to provide a rationale for his sister's continued obscurity: "On the wrapper of The Germ the writer's name is given as "Ellen Alleyn": this was my brother's conception, as Christina Rossetti did not care to figure under her own  9  Ibid., 17. Marsh and Nunn, 157. 11 Lynda Nead, Myths ofSexuality: Representations ofWomen in Victorian Britain (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1988) 31. 10  131  name."12 William Michael Rossetti attributes the pseudonymity of her publications to Dante Gabriel Rossetti's humouring her wish to avoid that movement into the public sphere which publishing under her own name, or putting herself on display, would entail. Yet his next statement deconstructs his representation of this seemingly natural modesty: "A Pause of Thought" was written in February 1848, when she was but little turned seventeen. Taken as a personal utterance... it is remarkable; for it seems to show that, even at that early age, she aspired ardently after poetic fame.13 Normative patterns of gender behaviour prohibited women from being ambitious or competitive, as these characteristics supposedly belonged to the "male" sphere of behaviour.14 Behavioural conventions frequently prevented women artists and writers from having faith in their own artistic capacities, and stripped them of the assertiveness necessary for self-promotion - all the while, moreover, maintaining the symbolic equivalence between artistic self-promotion and the sale of one's body. William Michael Rossetti's contradictory statements suggest that the anonymity and pseudonymity of Christina Rossetti's publications arose not so much out of the author's own reticence, but more out of her brothers' agenda to protect her from the personal implications of publishing by controlling her literary production and self-presentation.15 D.G. Rossetti played a particularly active role in Christina Rossetti's publication attempts. Not only did he invent for her a literary persona, he continually sought to influence her literary work. He recommended changes to her poems, selected which poems she should submit for publication and to whom, and even chose titles for her works - under Dante Gabriel Rossetti's promptings, Christina Rossetti changed her original title, "A Peep at the Goblins," to  12  W.M. Rossetti, 21. Ibid. 14 Marsh and Nunn, 157. A Letter from Christina Rossetti to Alexander Macmillan concerning her publication of two poems in Macmillan 's Magazine reveals that the poet was, indeed, interested not only in fame but in the financial benefits of publishing, both of which would be deemed by Victorian society as unfeminine: "you may think whether I am not happy to attain fame (!) and guineas by means of the Magazine" (Christina Rossetti to Alexander Macmillan, April 8th, 1864, in The Rossetti-Macmillan Letters, ed. Lona Mosk Packer (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1963) 23). 13  132  "Goblin Market."  16  I would argue that this influencing of her literary work reveals an authorial  anxiety on his part - that he felt his identity as an artist (and perhaps as a male) threatened by his sister's successful artistic production. Christina Rossetti, in turn, most likely felt embittered by her exclusion from the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood and endangered by Dante Gabriel Rossetti's intellectual invasion. Yet she was also aware of the necessity of this male mediation in obtaining access to the literary marketplace. How does this ambivalence emerge in "Goblin Market"? Rossetti lampoons the PreRaphaelite Brotherhood with sardonic glee in two poems written in the fall of 1853, both entitled "The P.R.B." In the first poem, written on September 19th, she incisively deflates the artistic pretensions and careful insularity of the group: "The two Rossettis (brothers they)/And Holman Hunt and John Millais/With Stephens chivalrous and bland,/and Woolner in a distant land --/ In these six men I awestruct see/Embodied the great P.R.B."17 That she returns to the same subject matter in another poem written less than two months later reveals the extent to which her exclusion from the group must have irked her. The second "The P.R.B." warrants quotation in full: The P.R.B. is in its decadence: ~ for Woolner in Australia cooks his chops; And Hunt is yearning for the land of Cheops; D.G. Rossetti shuns the vulgar optic; While William M. Rossetti merely lops His B.s in English disesteemed as Coptic; Calm Stephens in the twilight smokes his pipe But longing the dawn of his public day; And he at last, the champion, great Millais Attaining academic opulence Winds up his signature with A.R. A: — So rivers merge in the perpetual sea, 16  In preparing the manuscript for the second edition of Goblin Market, Christina sent all poems to Macmillan via Gabriel, in order that her brother might arrange them in the order he saw fit and take care of all the business details of the publication, as he did with the first edition (see Christina Rossetti to Alexander Macmillan, March 1865, in Packer, 44); Gabriel did suggest many corrections (see letters from D.G. Rossetti to Alexander Macmillan, 11 January 1865 and 31 March 1865 in Packer, 38 and 48). Christina did eventually assume control of "business matters," apparently vexed by several miscommunications (see Christina Rossetti to D.G. Rossetti, April-May, 1865, in Packer, 51); on the change of title, see note, Crump, I: 234. 17 Christina Rossetti, "The P.R.B.," in Crump, III: 332.  133  So luscious fruit must fall when over ripe, And so the consummated P.R.B.18 With a somewhat smug satisfaction, Rossetti likens the P.R.B. to luscious fruit, and its demise to the fall of fruit when over ripe. It seems hardly coincidental that six years later Rossetti was composing "Goblin Market," which depicts the inability of young women to obtain access to the marketplace and partake of its fruit without selling their bodies. "Goblin Market" thus presents itself, at least on one level, as an allegory of the gendering of artistic production and consumption within the literary marketplace. The poem reflects Rossetti's experience of and interest in the dynamics of literary production, specifically in relation to the woman writer. If we read the poem as an allegory of the place of women within the literary and artistic marketplace, the goblin men, or "brother with queer brother,"19 symbolize the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood specifically, and the male-dominated realm of artistic production more generally. The "fruit" of the goblin men then stands for their literary and artistic works. The kernel of fruit that Laura brings back that fails to germinate represents, perhaps, The Germ - the "kernel" or journal that withered before it could take root in the soil of Victorian periodical literature. Significantly, William Michael Rossetti utilizes just such terms of growth and germination in his introduction to the 1901 facsimile to describe The Germ's lack of success. The fact that he depicts how The Germ "shrivelled" in the Spring of 1850 and "showed no further sign of sprouting" suggests that he may have been drawing, consciously or otherwise, on the vocabulary of "Goblin Market," thus inadvertently demonstrating an awareness of this possible interpretation of the poem as a commentary on literary and artistic production.21 lg  Christina Rossetti, "The P.R.B.," in Crump, HI: 223-224. Christina Rossetti, "Goblin Market," in Crump, I: 11-26,1. 94. 20 W.M.R., 15. 21 W.M.R. shared with Mackenzie Bell his interpretation of the poem as offering the message that "to succumb to a temptation makes one a victim to that same continuous temptation; that the remedy does not always lie with oneself; and that a stronger and more righteous will may prove of avail to restore one's lost estate." This moralistic reading serves to position "Goblin Market" safely in the realm of devotional children's literature while silencing any possibly subversive critique of the Victorian literary marketplace (Mackenzie Bell, Christina Rossetti: A Biographical and Critical Study, London: Hurst and Blackett, (1898) 207). 19  134  "Goblin Market"'s Laura and Lizzie represent ideally domesticated Victorian women, "neat like bees, as sweet and busy," diligently pursuing their allotted task of preserving order in the home and "set[ing] to rights the house."22 Laura's succumbing to the goblins' cry constitutes her attempted movement from the private sphere of the home to the public sphere of the literary marketplace. Yet in order to obtain access to the market, Laura must sell a lock of her hair. We see here the idea that women are able to sell their bodies more easily than they are able to sell their work. The sale of Laura's body has dual connotations. Firstly, it marks her as a "fallen woman" and speaks of the presence of anxieties surrounding the idea of women in the public sphere of professional production. Secondly, Laura's sale of her body in the marketplace could be Rossetti's comment on her culture's attempt to imprison women within artistic representations and to impede them from being themselves, representers. Women can more easily sell themselves, or representations of themselves, than what they produce. In the poem, goblin men consume Laura's body, give her a taste of the fruit, and then exclude her from further commerce. Such dynamics parallel Dante Gabriel Rossetti using his sister as a model, allowing her to publish anonymously a few poems in The Germ, but excluding her from membership in the P.R.B. "In an Artist's Studio" depicts the nameless artist as consuming his subject just as the goblins consume Laura: "he feeds upon her face by day and night." The poem also presents the notion of a "sisterhood" in the form of Lizzie's intervention and her ability to interact successfully in the public sphere. Lizzie symbolizes both the ability of a woman "artist" to engage profitably in a commercial transaction and the ability of the woman to control her own representation. In venturing to listen and to look at the goblin men, Lizzie becomes not only a spectator, but also a spectacle. The goblin men spy on Lizzie, they attempt to manipulate her body, to control her and redefine her image. In effect, they try to represent her as a "fallen woman," complete with torn gown and disheveled hair. Lizzie, however, takes 22  "Goblin Market," 11. 201, 204.  135  control of her own representation. In a type of trans-coding, she takes an existing image and reappropriates it, imbuing it with a new meaning. Thus, instead of becoming a fallen woman, she represents herself as its opposite, a virgin: "white and golden Lizzie stood,/Like a lily in a flood."24 In so doing, she diffuses the representational power and control of the goblin men. Lizzie's successful self-imaging effectively shatters the mirror of the male-inscribed representation that seeks to reflect back a distorted image of female identity. Significantly, this success provides the cure to Laura's curse. Laura's consumption of Lizzie's trans-coded representation enables her to break free from her trance-like state. Rossetti uses a series of metaphors to depict the moment when she awakes "from a dream," and (re)turns to "life" and reality: Her locks streamed like the torch Borne by a racer at full speed, Or like the mane of horses in their flight, Or like an eagle when she stems the light Straight toward the sun, Or like a caged thing freed, Or like a flying flag when armies run.25 Catherine Maxwell argues that this description uses the language of poetic inspiration, signaling that the antidote "releases a flood of energy which makes [Laura] into a poet."26 The lines also paint a verbal picture alluding to another such depiction of the moment of turning from dream to reality. The prolonged metaphorical depiction of Laura's streaming locks alludes, I would argue, to William Holman Hunt's 1857 woodcut illustration of Alfred Tennyson's "The Lady of 77  Shalott" for the Moxon Tennyson (figure 22).  Hunt's illustration depicts the moment of the  Lady's turning away from the mirror and looking down to Camelot. Like Laura, who "rent all "In an Artist's Studio," 1. 9. "Goblin Market," 11. 408-409. 25 Ibid., 11. 500-506. 26 Catherine Maxwell, "Tasting the 'Fruit Forbidden': Gender, Intertextuality, and Christina Rossetti's 'Goblin Market,'" The Culture of Christina Rossetti: Female Poetics and Victorian Contexts, ed. Mary Arseneau, Anthony H. Harrison and Lorraine Janzen Kooistra (Athens: Ohio UP) 85. 27 Alfred Tennyson, Poems by Alfred Tennyson, D.C.L, (London: Edward Moxon, 1857). 24  136  her robe," the Lady's hands rend her robe, and the threads of her loom entangle her, her hair streaming wildly about her. Why might Rossetti have included such an allusion? Tennyson's highly popular rendition of the Arthurian legend of Elaine, the Fair Maid of Astolat, treats similar issues surrounding the woman artist's attempt to enter the public sphere and to construct her own representation. An artist who weaves assiduously day and night, her work is condoned so long as it remains "domestic" - so long as the Lady remains cloistered in the imprisoning "four gray walls, and four gray towers."28 As with Laura, her attempt to participate in the market economy is predicated upon the act of seeing and gazing. Just as Laura cannot peep at the goblin men, the Lady knows that a nameless curse will befall her should she look directly at Camelot. Yet looking, for the Lady as for Laura, serves as a means of escaping her imprisoning domestic sphere and entering into the market place. In looking down to Camelot the curse strikes the Lady, and her fate, like Laura and Lizzie's, is that of the "Fallen Woman" - in this case, the Lady metaphorically commits suicide by drowning. In transgressing the boundary between private and public artistic production, the Lady seeks to transform her own representation. The fetishistic object of the villagers' gaze, she exists for them only as an imaginary image. The people of Camelot gaze at the island of Shalott and whisper of its "fairy" inhabitant, but either refuse or are unable to see past the fetish image to the woman behind the representation: "But who hath seen her wave her hand?/Or at the casement seen her stand?/Or is she known in all the land/The Lady of Shalott?"^ In her curse, the Lady tries to control her own representation and how she is seen and read, writing about the prow of the boat her name and robing herself in "snowy white," like Lizzie trying to transform her representation from "fallen woman" to virgin. Tennyson, however, refuses the Lady any such artistic autonomy. Her movement outward from 28  Alfred Tennyson, "The Lady of Shalott," 1842, The Camelot Project. http://www.lib.rochester.edu/camelot/shalcomb. htm 1.15.  137  the private sphere of the tower to the public sphere of Camelot fails to precipitate the movement from imprisonment to freedom. Despite her attempts to dictate how she is seen, the Lady is still ensnared by the fetishizing gaze. In this sense, Lancelot, gazing at her dead body, strips her of her carefully created identity by almost pornographically reducing the whole woman to an isolated body part with his remark "she has a lovely face."30 In "Goblin Market," then, Christina Rossetti responds to and re-writes this re-imprisonment of the woman artist in a work of art by having her heroines successfully negotiate the marketplace and control their own representations.  II: Sumptuous Displays and Circulating Images: "Goblin Market" and The Visual Sensibility of the Department Store The realm of art production is not the only marketplace the heroines negotiate. In looking and listening to the goblins, they also enter into what I will argue is, in Rossetti's work, a related realm: that of commodity culture and the circulation of (photographic) images. While scholarship has interpreted "Goblin Market" as a commentary on certain aspects of the market economy, it has not addressed its relationship to the emerging photographic modality.31 Additionally, while scholarship has discussed "Goblin Market" as a paradigm of nineteenthcentury eating disorders, it has not considered how the poem relates the manipulation of the body to the "woman artist," commodity culture and the photographic image.32 The remainder of this  " Ibid., 1.24-27. 30 Ibid., IV.52. 31 See Elizabeth Campbell, "Of Mothers and Merchants: Female Economics in Christina Rossetti's 'Goblin Market,'" Victorian Studies 33.3 (1990): 393-410; Mary Wilson Carpenter, "'Eat me, drink, me, love me': The Consumable Female Body in Christina Rossetti's Goblin Market," Victorian Poetry 29 A (1991) 415-434; Elizabeth K. Helsinger, "Consumer Power and the Utopia of Desire: Christina Rossetti's 'Goblin Market,'" ELH, 58.4 (1991): 903-933; Terrence Holt, '"Men sell not such in any town': Exchange in 'Goblin Market,'" Victorian Poetry, 21.8 (1990): 51-67; and Richard Menke, "The Political Economy of Fruit: Goblin Market," in The Culture of Christina Rossetti: Female Poetics and Victorian Contexts, ed. Mary Arseneau, Anthony H. Harrison and Lorraine Janzen Kooistra (Athens: Ohio UP) 105-136. 32 See Paula Marantz Cohen, "Christina Rossetti's 'Goblin Market': A Paradigm for Nineteenth-Century Anorexia Nervosa," University of Hartford Studies in Literature 17.1 (1985): 1-18; Deborah Ann Thompson, "Anorexia as a Lived Trope: Christina Rossetti's 'Goblin Market,'" Mosaic: A Journal of Interdisciplinary Literature 24.3-4 (1991): 89-106.  chapter will examine the manner in which these seemingly disparate readings of "Goblin Market" in fact interrelate with each other in illuminating ways. The Great Exhibit at the Crystal Palace in 1851 heralded and epitomized a new regime of mass consumption and commodity spectacle.33 The exhibit, in bringing together artifacts and goods from across the colonies under one roof, allowed the spectators to consume, in a single glance, an unprecedented abundance and variety of exotic items. This unique type of consumption was characterized by its visual nature: the consumers did not actually have to buy the products, they could visually possess them. Visual consumption thus became synonymous with, if not actually replacing, commodity consumption. Rachel Bowlby links the emergence of the department store to the exhibitionary regime of the Crystal Palace. As she points out, Aristide Boucicaut founded the first French department store, the Bon Marche, in 1852 - almost simultaneously with the first Great Exhibition in London.34 With the department store, as with the Exhibit, buyers took themselves to the products, instead of the merchant taking his wares to potential buyers. The goods were not limited to the functional; in fact, their value lay precisely in their non-essential nature. This modern consumption, with its emphasis on visual fascination, operated upon the exoticism of the displays - of commodities not readily available or apparently useful, of luxury goods.35 In "Goblin Market," Laura and Lizzie take themselves to the product - they visit the glen where goblin men sell their wares as opposed to the merchants bringing their products to the consumers. The goods that the goblin men sell attract the girls precisely because of their exotic origins. The goblins present a plethora of remarkable goods, a medley of fruits from a variety of provenances all "ripe together" in their market.36 They offer exotic produce from an "unknown  See Ann McClintock's discussion of the Crystal Palace as an example of imperialism as commodity spectacle in Imperial Leather: Race, Gender and Sexuality in the Colonial Contest (N.Y.: Routledge, 1995) 56-61. Rachel Bowlby, Just Looking: Consumer Culture in Dreiser, Gissing and Zola (N.Y.: Methuen, 1985) 2. 35 Ibid., 1-2. 36 Goblin Market, 1. 15.  139  orchard," fruits such as "Citrons from the South," not available on the domestic market: "Men sell not such in any town."37 It is this foreign, unknown, slightly dangerous quality to the fruit that compels the girls to look: "who knows upon what soil they fed/Their hungry thirsty roots?" The appeal of the fruit lies in their visual sumptuousness, which the goblins emphasize by drawing the gaze of the consumers to the luscious images presented by the goods: "Plump unpeck'd cherries," "Bloom-down-cheek'd peaches/Swart-headed mulberries," "Pomegranates full and fine," "Bright-^fire-like barberries."39 The department store gave birth to a new observer: one positioned as viewer of what Bowlby terms "pictures seemingly without origin."40 As the commodities sold in department stores were put on display and made a part of an elaborate exhibit, a sumptuous eye-feast, their ontological status was transformed from useful object to image. This ascendancy of image over original was aided by the artistry of advertisement. Advertising circulated glossy seductive images of these image-like commodities. There seems, then, to exist a distinctly photographic quality to this proliferative production of representations and the circulation of images severed from their referents. If Boucicaut's founding of the Bon Marche closely followed the Great Exhibition of 1851, the Great Exhibition, in turn, included the first important photographic exhibit. In March 1851, Frederick Scott Archer introduced the patent-free collodion wet-plate process which opened up photographic practice to amateurs,41 and only six years later, in 1857, Disderi's carte-de-visite portrait was introduced to the English public. As John Tagg has noted, the photograph has a currency similar to the commodity: "photography is a mode of production consuming raw materials... and pouring on to the market a prodigious quantity of commodities. By this mode of production it constitutes images or representations, consuming the world of  37  Ibid., 11. 135,29,101. Ibid., 44-45. 39 Ibid., Ins 7,9, 10,21,27. 40 Bowlby 14. 41 Helmut Gernsheim, Lewis Carroll, Photographer, rev. ed. (NY.: Dover, 1969) 3. 38  140  sight as its raw material."42 The process of commodity advertisement introduced a spectacle of mass reproduction and availability similar to photography's introduction of images as reproducible and mass producible - the substitution of a unique object with a plurality of copies. For the observer constructed by both the department store and the photographic exhibit, the image was paramount, and pleasure centred on the act of looking. "Goblin Market" similarly revolves around this process of viewing and visually evaluating. Lizzie cautions Laura against looking and peeping at the glamorous displays of merchandise. While Lizzie, by shutting her eyes, avoids the lure to purchase the goblin wares, the products seduce Laura precisely because of her loitering before the tempting display because of her unwillingness to stop staring. Although the goblin fruits appear "sound to eye" solid, firm, "real" - they are, in fact, illusory images that claim the status of substance. These fleeting images disappear once Laura returns - "not for all her watching" can she discern the fruit.43 Department stores, in the display and sale of commodities, functioned as a type of museum; the department store and the art museum fulfilled similar roles for the Victorian public. Like the art museum, department stores appealed to and claimed to provide the social markers of refined "taste."44 However, unlike the art museum, which displayed unique unsaleable items to a few privileged viewers, the department store displayed to a large public a boundless array of "art" items which could be purchased and transported to the domestic space. While the art museum displayed original works of art, the store produced the object d"art: commercialized works of art, infinitely reproducible copies for those who could not afford to purchase the original or more authentic counterpart.45 Thus the objetd'art fulfilled the same function as  42  John Tagg, "The Currency of the Photograph," in Thinking Photography, ed. Victor Burgin (London: Macmillan, 1982) 123. 43 "Goblin Market," 11. 235. 44 Rimy G. Saisselin, The Bourgeois and the Bibelot (New Brunswick: Rutgers UP, 1984) 41. 45 Ibid., 47.  141  photographic reproductions of art works as outlined by Walter Benjamin in his essay "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction." According to Benjamin, the technical reproduction of an artwork enables the copy to circulate among populations that the original would never reach.46 Just as the proliferation of photographic images blurred the distinction between original and copy, so did the pervasiveness of the object d'art. Significantly, Saisselin argues that the ubiquity of the objet d'art transformed it into a type of pervasive mentality influencing, he posits, the literary style of writers such as Henry James47 -just as the photographic image, as argued in Chapter Two, became a means of classifying and evaluating one's world. The spectacle of infinite varieties of objets d'art laid out by the department stores were aimed at attracting and luring women. The advent of leisure time made it no longer incumbent upon the Victorian middle-class housewife to remain at home, maintaining the economic stability of the household. She could now move out of the private sphere and participate in the market economy.48 Shopping thus served as a type of liberation: a movement from the confines of the home to previously inaccessible areas of the public sphere, an escape from the monotony of domesticity to the glamorous excitement of the department store spectacle.49 For the most part, producers targeted female buyers, and the rhetoric of the sale assumed the tones of the male's seduction of the female.50 The department store promised women access to an "artistic" marketplace - in entering into their store and purchasing their objets d'art, women could display their aesthetic acumen and artistic sensibilities.51  Walter Benjamin, "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction," Illuminations: Essays and Reflections, ed. Hannah Arendt (N.Y.: Schoken Books, 1968) 220. 47 Saisselin, 70. 48 Ibid., 39. 49 Bowlby, 21. 50 Bowlby, 19. 51 Saisselin, 35.  142  As women were formed into willing and desiring consumers through the paradigm of seduction, they were concomitantly configured as fallen women - as "Eve"s who had succumbed to the lure of the apple - as seduced and seductresses who would, through their unruly appetite, bring financial ruin to their husbands and disorder to the domestic sphere.52 Yet concomitantly, women were encouraged to spend, to purchase objets d'art to decorate both the home and their own bodies.53 Indeed, the woman herself became just such a work of art - an object of desire to be viewed, possessed and displayed. Paradoxically, in consuming, the woman is herself consumed. In attempting to be an "artist" - to decorate her home with objets d'art, to construct, through the purchase of an ever-increasing availability of goods, a self- representation - she herself becomes a work of art. Moreover, she becomes not a unique original, but a reproduced and reproducible image. "In an Artist's Studio" comments on this transformation of artist into art, this commodification of the image: One face looks out from all his canvasses, One selfsame figure sits or walks or leans: We found her hidden just behind those screens, That mirror gave back all her loveliness. A queen in opal or in ruby dress, A nameless girl in freshest summer greens, A saint, an angel; — every canvass means The same one meaning, neither more nor less.54 Benjamin argues that the commodification of the art work, whereby the "making of many reproductions... substitutes a plurality of copies for a unique existence," results in the loss of "aura."55 Benjamin defined aura as "the unique phenomenon of distance, however close (the art object) might be."56 This loss of aura is characterized by the qualitative shift in the art work, wherein exhibition value displaces cult value. However, according to Benjamin, cult value, instead of disappearing completely, finds its last locus in the human countenance and the portrait 52  Saisselin, 35, 39. Ibid., 40. 54 "In an Artist's Studio," 11. 1-8 "Benjamin, 221. 53  143  photograph.  I would argue that "In an Artist's Studio" illuminates how the proliferative  reproduction of images of women resulted in these images becoming imbued with a cult-like status. The woman's body, multiplied and commodified, became a fetishized artwork. "Goblin Market" comments on this process of commodification. Like department store merchants and advertisers, the goblin men target a female audience: "morning and evening/Maids heard the goblins cry:/ 'Come buy our orchard fruits,/Come buy, come buy.'"58 Significantly, the first item on their interminable list of multifarious succulent fruits is the apple. An overt symbol of the Fall, their plying apples to young women configures the goblins' cry as that of seduction. Laura's response to their cry arises out of her desire to escape a domestic economy and participate in the market economy - to exchange fetching honey, milking cows, kneading cake, churning butter and whipping cream for the proffered fruit, to become a consumer instead of a producer. However, Laura cannot simply visually consume the wares - she must purchase them. The department stores provided a space for flaneurism. The flaneur was under no obligation to consume; he was free to look and gaze without purchasing.59 "Goblin Market," however, reveals the gendering offlaneurism, looking and consuming. Whereas the man can enter the marketplace, can indulge his desire, and can look without purchasing, the woman cannot look without buying - she must pay to enter the marketplace, to look and seek scopophilic satisfaction. Laura and Lizzie "must not look" or "peep" because they have "no money" to buy. ° They cannot act the flaneur, they cannot look without impunity. Since Laura has no money to purchase the fruit, and since she cannot look without buying, she must sell her body  Ibid., 222. Ibid., 226. "Goblin Market," 11. 1-4. Susan Buck-Morss, "The Flaneur, the Sandwichman and the Whore," New German Critique 39 (Fall 1986) 102. "Goblin Market," 11. 42, 49, 106.  144  instead, substituting a "golden curl" for the absent copper and silver.61 Laura thus becomes the consumer turned fallen woman - prey to her own unruly appetites. Laura's unlimited appetite - "I ate and ate my fill/Yet my mouth waters still" - parallels the discursive emergence of the "impulse buyer," the woman who responds to the department store's infinite expansion of new needs and new desires with irrational urges beyond her control.62 Just as the department store constructs the woman shopper as subservient to her consuming desires - desires that are increased in purchasing commodities that spawn the urge to buy more - so does Laura's desire to consume greater and greater amounts of fruit leave her unsatisfied. Her inability to obtain further access to the goblin market indicates the insatiability of her appetite. If it was feared that the over-consumption of shoppers would bring ruin to the household, then Laura's consumer bingeing actually does disrupt the home. She refuses to fulfill her domestic duties, consumed by her desire to consume: She no more swept the house, Tended the fowls or cows, Fetch'd honey, kneaded cakes of wheat, Brought water from the brook: But sat down listless in the chimney-nook And would not eat. Laura is redeemed by Lizzie's successful negotiation of the marketplace. She longs to "buy fruit to comfort her," but fears "to pay too dear."64 When Laura appears on the verge of death, Lizzie gathers her resolution, puts "a silver penny in her purse," enters the marketplace and begins "to listen and look."65 Armed with money and bargaining power, Lizzie is able to negotiate with the merchants on her own terms, demurring at their invitation to feast with them: So without further parleying, If you will not sell me any Of your fruits though much and many, Ibid., 1. 125. Bowlby, 3. "Goblin Market," 11. 293-298. Ibid, 11. 310-311. Ibid., 11. 324, 328.  145  Give me back my silver penny I tossed you for a fee.66 The goblins, undeterred by Lizzie's refusal to be seduced by their array of goods, force their merchandise on her and attempt to intimidate her into making extra purchases: Lashing their tails They trod and hustled her, Elbow'd and jostled her, Claw'd with their nails, Barking, mewing, hissing, and mocking, Tore her gown and soil'd her stocking, Twitch'd her hair out by the roots, Stamp'd upon her tender feet, Held her hands and squeez'd their fruits Against her mouth to make her eat. Lizzie resists not only over-consumption but also her own commodification. She controls her own representation, despite the goblin's valiant attempts to turn her into a prostitute, or a commodified display. She manages to out-bargain the goblins who, wearied by her continued resistance, abandon their coercion and allow Lizzie to escape with both her purchase and her penny still "bouncing in her purse."  IH: "Eat Me, Drink Me": Oral Consumption in "Goblin Market" "Goblin Market" thus illustrates how this new spectacular order dominated by conspicuous consumption and the photographic image put women's bodies on display and transformed them into signs to be read and interpreted by others. As the visually apprehendible became the grounds for knowing and categorizing, the body, in turn, became an elaborate signification system, to be meticulously encoded and decoded.69 And, as the body achieved greater visibility and significance, it also achieved a greater potential for betrayal and involuntary  Ibid., 11. 385-389. Ibid., 398-407. Ibid., 453. Suren Lalvani, 191.  146 10  disclosure. Since the self was continually on display, knowledge of, and control over, the self could only be achieved by a distancing from the self- viewing the self through the eyes of others. According to Susan Buck-Morss, women in nineteenth century bourgeois culture made themselves objects. Even in the absence of an observing audience or a display case women viewed themselves as "constantly being viewed."71 It comes as no surprise, then, that this viewing the self through the eyes of others coincided with the rise of pathological forms of oral consumption - pathologies that are characterized by self-surveillance and a sense of alienation from one's own body. Christina Rossetti, as an artist turned into a work of art, would have been entirely familiar with the experience of being on display - of being viewed by an observing audience and, as a result, viewing herself as constantly being viewed. Paula Marantz Cohen speculates that Rossetti suffered from anorexia nervosa, developing the disease during her teenage years and continuing to suffer from the illness to varying degrees throughout the remainder of her life.72 While we cannot definitively conclude that she was anorexic, we can certainly see in both Rossetti's life and in her writings a preoccupation with food and eating and an internalized surveillance that, I have argued, are symptomatic of pathological oral consumption. William Michael Rossetti remembers his sister as: Naturally of a rather indolent turn, disinclined to stick to an occupation, and often better pleased to be doing nothing than anything, [yet] she acquired habits of much assiduity, and neglected no household or other requirements which she perceived to have a claim upon her; and she was at once frugal and liberal. On self-indulgent luxuries, whether of the table or the toilet or aught else, she spent practically nothing at any period of her life.73 He notes that Christina Rossetti was "replete with the spirit of self-postponement, which passed into self-sacrifice whenever that quality was in demand" and that, moreover, she "dwellfed] upon 70  Ibid., 194. Buck-Morss, 125. 72 Marantz Cohen, 10.  71  147  the satisfaction - such that it is - of being ill."74 His comments reveal how his sister felt that she must rigidly control and adamantly suppress any inclination to self-indulgence - as if the merest lessening of restraint would result in ungovernable excess. Paradoxically, the suppression of pleasure and desire became, in itself, a source of satisfaction and empowerment. An exchange between a fifty-two year old Christina Rossetti and William Michael Rossetti's young daughter reveals the extent to which she internalized social regulations and punitive measures. Christina recalls that after displaying an unfeminine and thus socially prohibited outburst of temper she was immediately seized with guilt at her own lack of restraint and compelled by the need to reassert control over herself, turning her rage inward and lacerating her own body: I, too, had a very passionate temper... On one occasion, being rebuked by my dear Mother for some fault, I seized upon a pair of scissors, and ripped up my arm to vent my wrath.75 Her behaviour speaks of a masochistic pleasure involved in appropriating the means of control and punishment and inflicting them on oneself- a pleasure that surfaces in "Goblin Market" as Lizzie deliberately places herself under the excoriating claws of the goblin men and refuses to consume their fruit. Various poems within Goblin Market and Other Poems use the motif of oral consumption: from "At Home," in which food symbolizes acceptance and release, to "My Dream," in which appetite, guilt and atonement surround consumption, to "An Apple Gathering" in which, as in "Goblin Market," food signals either participation in or exclusion from the market economy, to "The World," in which to eat is to participate in the sinful world and to reject food is to consume a more heavenly substance. Rossetti's poem "The Dead City," written in 1847, describes a banquet-table laden with deceptively "sound" fruit, a feast that turns its consumers to stone: 73  William Michael Rossetti, "Memoir," in Christina Rossetti's Poetical Works (London: Macmillan and Co., 1914), lxvii. 74 Ibid., lxvii, 1.  148  In green emerald baskets were Sun-red apples, streaked and fair; Here the nectarine and peach And ripe plum lay, and on each The bloom rested everywhere. Grapes were hanging overhead, Purple, pale and ruby-red; And in panniers all around Yellow melons shone, fresh found, With the dew upon them spread. And the apricot and pear And the pulpy fig were there, Cherries and dark mulberries, Bunchy currants, strawberries, And the lemon wan and fair: And unnumbered others too, Fruits of every size and hue, Juicy in their ripe perfection, Cool beneath the cool reflection Of the curtains' skyey blue.76 The above passage configures fruit as a debilitating source of temptation and excess in a descriptive manner that would reappear over a decade later in "Goblin Market." Oral consumption, in a variety of guises and with multifarious meanings, pervades Rossetti's further publications, especially "The Prince's Progress," in The Prince's Progress and Other Poems (1866), "Nick," in Commonplace and Other Stories (1870), Sing-Song: A Nursery Rhyme Book 77  (1872), and Speaking Likenesses (1874). It is "Goblin Market," however, that most incisively and resonantly discusses the pathology of oral consumption and its sources. By refusing to participate actively in her domestic duties, Laura rebels against her gendered role in the desire to join the forbidden, 75  Quoted in Jan Marsh, Christina Rossetti: a Literary Biography (London: Jonathan Cape, 1994) 50. Christina Rossetti, "The Dead City," in The Poetical Works of Christina Georgina Rossetti, 101. 77 See Christina Rossetti, The Prince's Progress and Other Poems (London: Macmillan, 1866); Commonplace and Other Short Stories (London: F.S. Ellis, 1870); Sing-Song: A Nursery Rhyme Booh (London: George Routledge and Sons, 1872) and Speaking Likenesses (London: Macmillan, 1874). 76  149  external world of goblin men. As Mary Douglas reveals, food has its own coded signification 'JO  a signification that can change according to shifting contexts and uses.  Hence when food  serves to uphold and propagate specific socially acceptable roles and rituals it holds positive connotations. In this vein, the preparation of food within the sphere of the home serves as a means of fulfilling the gender role allotted to Victorian women: Early in the morning When the first cock crowed his warning, Neat like bees, as sweet and busy, Laura rose with Lizzie: Fetched in honey, milked the cows, Aired and set to rights the house, Kneaded cakes of whitest wheat, Cakes for dainty mouths to eat, Next churned butter, whipped up cream, Fed their poultry, sat and sewed; Talked as modest maidens should Lizzie with an open heart, Laura in an absent dream, One content, one sick in part; One warbling for the mere bright day's delight One longing for the night.79 While Lizzie is satisfied with the preparation of domestic products to garnish the tea-table, Laura longs to consume the fruit that lies beyond the borders of the home. Her desire for the forbidden fruit of the goblin men thus expresses her dissatisfaction with her domestic role, and the yearning to transgress the boundaries of the private sphere. Laura therefore uses eating as a means of disrupting, or erupting from, the home. To "taste" and "try" serves as a means of obtaining access to personal growth, adventure and freedom. Paradoxically, however, Laura's consuming desire to taste the fruit of freedom in essence robs her of her own autonomy, since her longing for the fruit becomes an obsession controlling every thought and action. Thus, even though she "ate and ate [her] fill" her "mouth waters  Mary Douglas, "Deciphering a Meal," Implicit Meanings: Essays in Anthropology (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1975) 249, 260. 79 "Goblin Market," 199-214.  150  still."  As with Augustus, the empty, incorporating mouth opens wide - all-consuming but  never satiated, desperately trying to fill a bottomless void. However, no amount of nutritive ingestion can ever provide the nurturing which the compulsive over-eater seeks - and lacks. In this manner, then, Laura stops hearing the siren song of the goblins: Laura turned as cold as stone To find her sister heard that cry alone That goblin cry, "Come buy our fruits, come buy." Must she then buy no more such dainty fruit? Must she no more succous pasture find, Gone deaf and blind?81 The over-indulgence of the senses causes the loss of sense, as Laura needs more and more stimulation and greater and greater excess to find satisfaction. With tragic irony, Laura's attempt at freedom transforms her into a slave of her appetite. In using food to silently express her pain, frustration and yearnings, she becomes addicted to such a form of paradoxically self-destructive sustenance: Then sat up in a passionate yearning, And gnashed her teeth for baulked desire, and wept As if her heart would break. Day after day, night after night, Laura kept watch in vain, In sullen silence of exceeding pain. What served as an unconscious attempt at creating a "self thus transforms into a means of selfdestruction, as her over-eating turns into starvation: She no more swept the house, Tended the fowls or cows, Fetched honey, kneaded cakes of wheat, Brought water from the brook: But sat down listless in the chimney-nook And would not eat. Ibid., Ibid., Ibid., Ibid.,  11. 165-166. 11. 253-259. 11. 266-271. 11. 293-298.  151  By engaging in a prolonged fast after having binged on the goblin-fruit, Laura follows the pattern of self-induced starvation and secret binging in which many Victorian women engaged by fasting in public and feasting in private.84 This not untypical behaviour, when taken to an extreme, can become life threatening. William Gull, for example, describes how his patient Miss A punctuated her self-starvation with "a day or two" of "voracious" appetite.85 The fact that Laura "would not eat" (italics mine) locates the source of her starvation in a "nervous" as opposed to physiological origin. She conforms to Gull's conclusion that "the want of appetite is... due to a morbid mental state... that mental states may destroy appetite is notorious, and it will be admitted that young women... are specially obnoxious to mental perversity."86 Laura, with her "sullen"87 refusal to complete her chores, displays the obstinacy and "peevishness of temper" that Gull cites as characteristic of the morbid condition of the anorectic. Like Miss B who "is never tired,"89 Laura remains awake while Lizzie sleeps, kept from slumber by her overwhelming hunger. While anorexia can be a silently voiced protest against domestic enclosure and a method of escaping the private sphere by escaping the prison of the gendered body, it is also a disease that betrayingly colludes with the very social imperatives against which the individual attempts to position herself.90 In this vein, by delineating Laura's movement from over-eating to selfeating, Rossetti demonstrates the individual's internalization of disciplinary mechanisms. Laura imbibes the punitive discourse and begins to consume herself, becoming "thirsty, canker'd,  84  The Bazar Book of Decorum (N. Y.: Harper & Brothers, 1871) 193. William Gull, "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)," Transactions of the Clinical Society of London, vol. 7 (1874), 23. 86 Ibid., 25. 87 "Goblin Market," 1. 271 88 Gull, 23. 89 Ibid., 24. 90 Susan Bordo describes how pathologies such as anorexia, agoraphobia and hysteria are counterproductive because they paradoxically fulfill the patriarchal ideals that they attempt to reject ("Anorexia Nervosa: Psychopathology as the Crystallization of Culture," Feminism and Foucault: Reflections on Resistance, ed. Irene Diamond and Lee Quinby (Boston: Northeastern UP, 1988) 87-117). 85  152  goblin-ridden."91 The "cankerous care"92 that devours and incapacitates her serves as an inverse retribution for her attempted escape by means of oral consumption. As a result: Her hair grew thin and gray; She dwindled, as the fair full moon doth turn To swift decay and burn Her fire away.93 The phrase "burn/Her fire away" reveals that the control mechanism that Laura internalizes consists of a form of punishment that allows the opportunity to engage in the transgressive misdemeanor. For this individual instance speaks of the methodology of punishment on a larger scale. It seems that the process of punitive abjection permits society to exorcise its own desires by enacting them upon a scapegoated or deviant "Other." While Laura suffers from the internalization of punitive mechanisms, Lizzie, conversely, experiences the external imposition of disciplinary tactics. As a result of her refusal to eat the proffered fruit, she endures the attempted force-feeding of the goblin men: They trod and hustled her, Elbowed and jostled her Clawed with their nails, Barking, mewing, hissing, mocking, Tore her gown and soiled her stocking, Twitched her hair out by the roots, Stamped upon her tender feet, Held her hands and squeezed their fruits Against her mouth to make her eat.94 Such a spectacle of pain and torture recalls scenes of bodily torture and painful punishment in tales such as Mrs. Sherwood's The History of the Fairchild Family. Christina Rossetti was familiar with this text, which her mother frequently read to her as a young girl, and she had a strong antipathy to it.95 Rossetti re-writes the lurid spectacle of punishment by devising a scenario in which the punished heroine, far from being cowed into submission, remains 91  "Goblin Market," 11. 448. Ibid., 1. 300. 93 Ibid., 11. 277-280. 94 Ibid., 11. 399-407. 92  153  rebellious. She turns a situation of inequality and abjection into a space for agency and a means of carving out an autonomous identity. As Michel Foucault has revealed, "resistance is never in a position of exteriority in relation to power."96 Lizzie manages to negotiate a position of resistance within the very framework of the powers that seek to control and subdue her. In The Body in Pain, Elaine Scarry analyzes the symbolic and actual impact produced by the bodily torture of political prisoners. As the torturers exert their control and authority over the prisoners, even the most natural and spontaneous bodily acts, such as ingestion and excretion become, for their victims, a struggle for autonomy and agency. Since their bodies are no longer their own, to submit to the functioning of the body is to submit to the authority of those who wield the excoriating instruments of torture. Moreover, as the torturers manipulate the body, so they manipulate the voice - by inflicting bodily pain, either eliciting cries of anguish and protest or enforcing unnatural silence.97 They thereby steal and appropriate the voice and identity of the prisoner. In this fashion, the voice becomes intimately linked with the body: the voice becomes the body and the body the voice. By keeping her lips tightly shut against the prodding goblins, Lizzie in effect closes off her mouth, retaining her voice and upholding the parameters of her body. She thus guards her subject position against the objectifying attempts of the goblin men. If eating turns into a struggle for agency, not eating becomes a means of preserving self-control and autonomy. Lizzie assumes the role of hunger artist, whose strategic refusal of food serves as a means of defiance, empowerment, and as a potent non-verbal means of voicing her dissensions and articulating her desires. We can interpret food refusers and anorectics as types of hunger artists, refusing food proffered by "goblin" parents or the "goblins" of society in order to try to make a statement, to create a self-representation. These 'artists' take an existing image and re-appropriate it, imbuing 95  Georgina Battiscombe, Christina Rossetti: A Divided Life (N.Y.: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1981) 21. Michel Foucault, The History of Sexuality, vol. 1., trans. Robert Hurley (N.Y.: Vintage, 1978) 95. 97 Elaine Scarry, The Body in Pain: The Making and Unmaking of the World (Oxford: Oxford UP, 1985) 167. 96  154  it with a different meaning. In refusing food and wasting away, these women try to create a selfrepresentation within the existing structure provided by the social discourse of female frailty. Thus "artists" such as Lizzie or Gull's Miss K.R. try to achieve a sense of agency in voluntarily obeying the commands of social power and in exaggerating its restrictions. By taking the cultural imperative to a parodic extreme, the individual attempts to subvert its authority, to reinscribe the social text, and the text of her body, with new meaning. This meaning, however, is highly ambiguous since the "artist" reproduces, rather than transforms, that which she protests. Any power and independence experienced in the refusal of food only imprisons the individual more ineradicably within the structure of existing power relations, and within the frame of existing representations.  IV: "Suggestive Wit and Revising Hand": The Illustrative Interpretation of "Goblin Market" How do the illustrations of "Goblin Market" enter into dialogue with this struggle over representation? In 1861 D.G. Rossetti tried to interest his own patron, John Ruskin, in his sister's poetry. Ruskin, however, was less than enthusiastic: I sate up till late last night reading poems. They are full of beauty and power. But no publisher - 1 am deeply grieved to know this - would take them, so full are they of quaintnesses and offences.98 Although the only "offences" Ruskin specifies are those of "irregular measure" and incorrect "Form," one suspects that he also found the content somewhat irregular and potentially offensive." The volume's eventual publisher, Alexander Macmillan, conveyed these same sentiments. D.G. Rossetti approached Macmillan after Ruskin's rejection. This venture met with success and, in the fall of 1862, Macmillan proposed to publish a selection of Christina  98  W.M. Rossetti, Ruskin, Rossetti, Preraphaelitism: Papers 1854 to 1862 (London: George Allen, 1899) 258-259.  155  Rossetti's poems in an "exceedingly pretty little volume" with illustrations by Gabriel.' ° Macmillan indirectly expressed the opinion that Goblin Market and Other Poems would have a chance on the market provided that Christina Rossetti's verbal text was supplemented and ratified by Gabriel's visual text: I quite think a selection of them would have a chance - or, to put it more truly, that with some omissions they might do. At least I would run the risk of a small edition with the two designs which you kindly offer. '01 Desiring to publish the volume as "a small Christmas book," Macmillan was invested in sugarcoating the work as much as possible for Christmas-buyers. Accordingly, he stipulated what he deemed an appropriate illustrative glazing of the volume's title poem: A quaint wood-cut initial - not elaborate and not sprawling down the page, but with a queer goblin, say, grinning at a sweet patient woman-face - or something else of the kind, would make a nice addition.102 In a note inscribed in a copy of Goblin Market on December 7th, 1893, Christina Rossetti wrote: And here I like to acknowledge the general indebtedness of my first and second volumes to his suggestive wit and revising hand.103 Macmillan's primary motivation for enlisting D.G. Rossetti's services would have been the exploitation of his talent and popularity. However, might Macmillan also have insisted on Rossetti's illustration of the volume precisely because his visual representations could revise the critically subversive stance of the verbal text? While the verbal text attempts to liberate and empower the woman "artist" - be she painter/writer, shopper, or hunger artist - the visual text, conversely, tries to re-imprison the artist in a representation. Rossetti's attempt to exert control over the meaning of the verbal text through his visual response most likely arises in part out of his (sub)conscious authorial anxieties and in part out of his use of familiar motifs in contemporary visual discourse. In depicting  100  Alexander Macmillan to D.G. Rossetti, October 28, 1861, Letters of Alexander Macmillan, quoted in Marsh, 277. Ibid. 102 Ibid. 103 Quoted in Crump, 1.6, 234. 101  156  slumbering girls, Rossetti followed artistic convention. The image of the slumbering woman seemed to be particularly evocative to the Victorian artistic imagination, in particular during the period of struggle for female enfranchisement. The portrayal and the visual contemplation of the catatonic woman served to subdue imaginatively any threat of independent action that she might evince. In contemplating the slumbering woman, the viewer could, in a sense, possess and control her. Such images therefore often intertwined the themes of slumber with those of captivity. In this vein, popular subjects for depiction included Alfred Tennyson's "Lady of Shalott" and the Grimm's Brothers' "Sleeping Beauty."104 Within the illustrated tradition, the emphasis on the confinement of the woman became more pronounced - whether that confinement takes the form of imprisonment or of death. With the increased emphasis on the woman's confinement came the increased emphasis on her sensuality. Her enshrinement as a pure woman increased her desirability - hence the eroticization of the confined woman. Rossetti's illustration "Golden Head by Golden Head" displays this same paradoxical combination of sexualized purity. Victorian society upheld the girl child as an icon of unalloyed innocence. Yet the illustration allows the viewer to obtain voyeuristic access to the sleeping girl - opening up her body to the consuming gaze. The visual rendition of sleeping girls was not unique to Rossetti; the photographers David Octavius Hill and Robert Adamson produced a plethora of such images during the years 1843-1847 (figures 23-24), and Charles Dodgson also indulged his proclivity for slumbering girls, producing innumerable photographs of such subjects, many before 1861 (figures 25-29).105 Just three years after the publication of Goblin Market, Henry Peach Robinson produced his famous photograph "Sleep," which portrayed two  104  Some evocative visual portrayals of The Lady of Shalott include William Breakspeare's The Lady of Shalott, n.d. and D.G. Rossetti's The Lady of Shalott in the Moxon Tennyson, 1857. Pictures of Sleeping Beauty draw upon similar thematic imagery; for example, Edward Frederick Brewtnall's Sleeping Beauty n.d. and Edward BurneJones' The Sleeping Princess from The Briar Rose Series 1873-1890. 105 The majority of Dodgson's photographs are undated; however, Gernsheim states that a list, printed for private circulation in 1861, lists 159 photographs taken before that date (Helmut Gernsheim, Lewis Carroll, Photographer, rev. ed. (N.Y.: Dover Publications, 1969) 126).  157  slumbering girls (figure 30). The treatment of such themes of the eroticized slumberer and illicit viewing were familiar to Rossetti. Rossetti himself had depicted for Moxon's Tennyson in 1857 a slumbering Lady of Shalott held captive by the eroticizing gaze (figure 31). In 1846 he produced a pen and ink drawing, entitled "Hermia and Helena," to illustrate A Midsummer's Night's Dream. The drawing of two young women clasped closely together in an embrace, in accompanied by an inscription reading: "So we grew together, like to a double cherry, seeming parted" (figure 32). In 1846-7, he produced an illustration, "The Sleeper," to accompany the poem of the same name by Edgar Allan Poe. The illustration portrays a girl asleep in a window seat, oblivious of the enshadowed figures that peer voyeuristically at her through the open window (figure 33). Therefore, in addition to drawing upon familiar visual conventions, "Golden Head By Golden Head" also fuses motifs previously treated by Rossetti in prior illustrations (figure 34). It positions the readers/viewers as voyeurs - we "peep" not at the goblins, but at the girls. The girls become the forbidden fruit; the fact that Rossetti depicts his slumbering figures in a state of partial undress emphasizes the eroticism of such a spectacle - of visually consuming the otherwise prohibited and forbidden. In a sense, we occupy the voyeuristic position of the goblin men as they, too, view the girls through a peep-hole. The roundel, while providing a peep-hole for the goblins, also provides the readers with access to Laura's dream of consuming the goblin fruit. The readers then participate in the same activity as the textual characters. Just as the girls consume a visual representation (in the form of a dream) of that which they long to devour, the readers visually devour that which they long to consume, specifically, the slumbering girls. Through the eroticization of young girls, and the evocation of an illicit viewing of girls in a private, vulnerable state, the illustration builds a narrative of the sisters as sexualized spectacle a narrative that directly refutes the verbal depiction. The visual portrayal thus confounds the attempt of the female artist to break free from the confines of representational stereotypes by  158  reimposing just such imagistic boundaries. A contemporary review of "Goblin Market" illuminates how D.G. Rossetti's illustrations influenced the reception of the verbal text: Besides Goblin Market this volume contains some miscellaneous poems and a variety of devotional pieces. All of these are marked by beauty and tenderness. They are frequently quaint and sometimes a little capricious. The designs by Mr. Rossetti are rich and exquisite. No goblins could be better or more laughable than these; nor could we imagine anything more felicitous than the mixed longing and hesitation pourtrayed in the face and action of the damsel. The poem which the designs illustrate is perhaps the wealthiest in expression of any in the volume, as it is also the one which is most purely and completely a work of art; but the devotional pieces are those we have liked best, and we are only sorry to have no space to quote from them.106 Rossetti's illustrations mitigate the incendiary potential of "Goblin Market" to the extent that instead of being read as a subversive trans-coding, it is evaluated as an innocuous work of art.  British Quarterly, July 1862, copied by D.G. Rossetti in a letter to Christina dated July 1862, in William Michael Rossetti, ed., The Family Letters of Christina Georgina Rossetti (London: Brown, Langham & Co., Ltd, 1908) 2728.  159  Chapter Eight "She was now the right size": Verbal/Visual Depictions of Oral Consumption in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland Alice's Adventures in Wonderland features a young girl who, by consuming from bottles marked "EAT ME" and "DRINK ME," attempts to change her size in order to transgress the border between private and public spheres. The injunctions to eat and drink resonate with the goblins' cry to "taste them and try" and, more overtly, of Lizzie's pleading to "Eat me, Drink me." Under the pseudonym Lewis Carroll, Charles Dodgson published Alice's Adventures in 1865 - just three years after the first publication of Goblin Market and Other Poems. Although there exists no evidence that "Goblin Market" consciously influenced Dodgson's vision of Wonderland it seems highly plausible that his children's story, if not actually responding to the poem, was certainly informed by this earlier work of fiction. It is almost certain that Dodgson, a great admirer of Dante Gabriel Rossetti and the Pre-Raphaelite circle, read "Goblin Market." He met Christina in 1863 while taking photographs at D.G. Rossetti's studio; the poet sat for two portrait photographs, returning the next day to have Dodgson photograph her with her family.' If Dodgson had not yet read her poetry before meeting her, he doubtlessly would have made himself familiar with her work afterwards. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland shares "Goblin Markef's themes of oral consumption, the desire to move from the private to the public sphere, and the attempt to control one's representation in a commodity culture dominated by a photographic sensibility. This chapter will begin by discussing the significance of Alice's eating, and its repercussions for both the individual and the society she navigates. It will then proceed to examine motifs of visuality in the text and discuss the link between oral and visual consumption. By then addressing Dodgson's role as amateur photographer, the chapter will consider how photographic  160  sensibilities inform both the verbal text and Dodgson's original illustrations. The chapter will conclude by evaluating the significance of the dialogue between Dodgson's illustrations and those of John Tenniel, and of how both sets of illustrations depict oral consumption.  I: Unruly Alice: Oral Consumption and the Quest for an Autonomous Identity Alice must use food, and the shifting shape of her body, to protest and manipulate her place within the microcosm of the family, and the macrocosm of society. It seems more than slightly ironic that a man arguably obsessed with prepubescent girls, and intent on keeping them beneath the age of "seven years and six months,"2 should produce a work that charts a young girl's attempts to become independent — to work out her autonomy in relation to the various social forces that seem bent on forming her into a perfectly malleable "daughter," a minuscule "Angel in the House." The recent televised version of Alice in Wonderland picks up on and clarifies the often latent implications of generational/gender revolt in the original text. 3 In the screen interpretation, Alice finds herself in Wonderland after her rebellious boycotting of a social engagement. Her distantly authoritative parents require the stage-frightened Alice to perform a musical piece in front of a prestigious gathering of "society" personages they are entertaining with the social ritual of tea. By absconding from both the gathering and her duties, Alice rejects not only the prescribed rituals of society, but also her dictated place within society, the authority of her parents, and her own assigned role of dutiful daughter. Although in Carroll's original text Alice enters Wonderland through the much more conventional means of a dream, her interactions and adventures in the new world are nonetheless  1  Diary entries for 6 October and 30 September, 1863, The Diaries of Lewis Carroll, vol. 1., ed. Roger Lancelyn Green (London: Cassell, 1953), 203-204, 201-202. 2 Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, 1865, ed. Roger Lancelyn Green (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971) 188. 3 Alice in Wonderland, written by Peter Barnes, directed by Nick Willing, NBC, 1999.  161  tinged with the same implications of female rebellion. As she falls down the rabbit hole, she begins to lose her ability to interpret and conceptualize according to pre-established ontological, epistemological and semiotic conventions. As a result, she questions whether "cats eat bats" or "bats eat cats."4 This line of interrogation reveals her deconstruction of supposedly fixed hierarchical binaries, notably those between predator and prey, or eater and eaten. Why this category and why this particular query? Is it but a manifestation of Carroll's delight in nonsensical word-play and rhyming, or does the ostensible "nonsense" in fact possess much more resonantly symbolic implications? Certainly this relationship between eater and eaten may be extended, both literally and metaphorically, to express and describe not only the complexity of the ecological food chain to which Alice, as a human being, inextricably belongs, but also the social "food chain" to which Alice's position as a "social animal" irredeemably relegates her. To delve into this metaphor of social interrelationships as the hierarchical conduits of a food chain would then suggest that, in order for Alice to re-negotiate and manipulate her position and relations within society, she must first re-negotiate and manipulate her relations with food. In this vein, by either ingesting or refusing food she manipulates her body, attempting to define and establish its parameters, and to distinguish between the external world and her own subject position. Yet as her formation of identity is contingent upon her varied eating, it is necessarily in constant flux, as Alice reveals through her comment: '"Oh, I'm not particular to size... only one doesn't like changing so often, you know.'"5 Her descent down the rabbit hole lands Alice in what may be construed as a typical Victorian home. Ensnared and imprisoned in this home, Alice becomes a literary sister of other such reluctantly embowered Victorian women characters as the Lady of Shalott, Mariana or Rapunzel:  "Carroll, 11. 5 Ibid, 45.  162  She found herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof. There were doors all round the hall, but they were all locked; and when Alice had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle wondering how she was ever to get out again.6 Characteristic of this Victorian home is its inability to meet the individual needs and demands of the enshrined girl. Such environmental inadequacy is metaphorically represented as an oral lack - an incapacity to satisfy the girl's appetite. Alice takes down ajar marked "ORANGE MARMALADE" from one of the shelves, "but to her great disappointment it was empty."7 Alice's sense of an emptiness that cannot be filled is represented as a hunger that cannot be satiated. She experiences, moreover, conflicted emotions towards her appetite. According to Hilde Bruch, many anorectics experience their own body as ontologically distinct from the inner self. This inner self, moreover, is always conceived of as "male," and is often described by patients as a dictator, the voice of reason, and the voice of social imperatives. Conversely, they Q  experience the body as "female" and associate it with unruliness and misbehaviour. Alice exhibits just such a rifting of the self: 'Come, there's no use in crying like that!' said Alice to herself rather sharply. T advise you to leave off this minute!' She generally gave herself very good advice (though she seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes... for this curious child was very fond of pretending to be two people.9 Alice internalizes social norms, becoming her own judge and punisher. This internalization, in turn, produces a fissure between the will and the body, and results in Alice's experiencing her body as an alien and uncontrollable entity:  6  Ibid. 12. Ibid., 10. 8 Hilde Bruch, The Golden Cage: The Enigma ofAnorexia Nervosa (N.Y.: Vintage, 1979) 58. 9 Carroll, 14-15. 7  163  'You ought to be ashamed of yourself,' said Alice, 'a great girl like you,' (she might well say this), to go on crying in this way! Stop this moment, I tell you!' But she went on all the same, shedding gallons of tears... 10 Alice experiences her own appetite as dangerous - as a threat not only to herself, but also to those around her. Fearful of dropping the marmalade jar and "killing somebody underneath," she carefully places the empty jar back on the shelf, in the attempt to subdue her own dangerous impulses and to maintain domestic order.11 Alice desperately longs to escape this private sphere of the home - and the role of "Angel in the House" it entails - and enter into the public sphere of the paradisal garden beyond with its connotations of movement, freedom and adventure. She experiences the home as a confinement that, quite literally, stunts her growth and inhibits her developing an autonomously individual identity. Enclosed in the rabbit's home, for example, Alice feels that "there seemed to be no sort of chance of her ever getting out of the room again, no wonder she felt so unhappy... there's no room to grow up any more here"12 In order to escape her physical confines, and the confines of the gender-prescribed role, Alice must become "the right size."13 Becoming "the right size" signifies altering her eating habits - specifically, engaging in prohibited oral consumption. In this vein Alice, upon perceiving a small bottle bearing the injunction "DRINK ME," cognitively rejects didactic warnings against imbibing the potentially poisonous contents of unknown bottles, and proceeds to consume the liquid. The contents of the bottle taste "very nice": a combination of "cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast turkey, toffy and hot buttered toast."14 Significantly, the contents include food laden with sugar and tryptophan (contained in turkey) and characterized by their tendency to induce feelings of well-being - and by their ability to cause physical dependence and compulsive consumption. Indeed, Alice compulsively consumes the 10  Ibid., 17. Ibid., 10. 12 Ibid., 33. 13 Ibid., 14. 11  164  whole bottle, finishing it off. Thus, while consumption does eventually provide Alice with a means of escapism, it can also act as a "poison": "if you drink much... it is almost certain to disagree with you sooner or later."15 In thus tasting the unknown contents of the bottle, Alice rejects textually and socially decreed rules and regulations and scripts her own role. She spends much of her time manipulating her own body - through consumption or abstention. Testing different shapes and forms, she searches for the "right size"16 and, in the process, seeks to discover '"who in the world '"  she is - to work out her own individuality in relation to her body, her environment,  and those around her. Indeed, you are what you eat in this Wonderland that reproduces the gustatory codes of Victorian society. In observing the "savage" behaviour of the Duchess towards her child, Alice speculates that perhaps the heavily peppered soup is responsible for her unnatural actions. Victorian medical and advice literature warned against women's consumption of spicy and stimulating foods as the appetite for certain foods was a sign of rampant sexuality. Prominent on this list of "dangerous" food were pepper and vinegar.18 Alice repeats the familiar Victorian litany of the various effects produced by the consumption of certain foods: It's always pepper that makes people hot-tempered... and vinegar that makes them sour and camomile that makes them bitter - and barley-sugar and such things that make children sweet-tempered.19  Eating thus becomes a way for her to carve out her own space and her own identity. Alice takes a symbolically weighty step in this process through her abandonment of the Mad Hatter's tea-party. Mary Douglas, in her article "Deciphering a Meal," discusses meals as a  15  16  ibid.  Ibid. 37. 17 Ibid. 18. 18 Joan Jacobs Brumberg, Fasting Girls: the History ofAnorexia Nervosa (N.Y.: Penguin Books, 1989) 175. 19 Carroll, 79.  165  system similar to language, as codes with pre-coded messages. According to her anthropological analysis, food: Is about different degrees of hierarchy, inclusion and exclusion, boundaries and transactions across the boundaries...the taking of food has a social component as well as a biological one. Food categories therefore encode social events...Each meal is a structured social event...it distinguishes order, bounds it, and separates it from disorder. Perhaps the most structured of these meals in the Victorian period was the ritual of tea. Elizabeth Kowaleski-Wallace points out that over the course of the eighteenth century, the British tea table evolved into a gendered site, a "'feminine' locus where the civilizing process 91  could occur."  Women's participation at the tea table required the management of female  behaviour, body language, speech and, of course, consumption. Indeed, the rituals of high tea exemplify Michel Foucault's notion of the new disciplinary society that produces "subjected and practised bodies, 'docile' bodies."  This productive coercion and manipulation of bodies  employed various strategies, such as the creation of useful spaces, the ranked distribution of individuals in these spaces, the adherence to a time-table, the correlation of the body and the gesture, and the definition of each relation that the body must have with particular objects.  A  passage from Mary Elizabeth Braddon's Lady Audley 's Secret (1862) merits quoting in this context, as it illustrates how the rituals of the Victorian tea table produced gendered and disciplined bodies: Lucy Audley looked up from her occupation amongst the fragile china cups... .She looked very pretty and innocent, seated behind the graceful group of delicate opal china and glittering silver. Surely a pretty woman never looks prettier than when making tea. The most feminine and most domestic of all occupations imparts a magic harmony to her every movement, a witchery to her every glance. The floating mists from the boiling liquid in which she infuses the soothing herbs, whose secrets are known to her alone, envelop her in a cloud of scented vapour, through which she seems a social fairy, Mary Douglas, "Deciphering a Meal," Implicit Meanings: Essays in Anthropology (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1975)249, 260. Elizabeth Kowaleski-Wallace, Consuming Subjects: Women, Shopping and Business in the Eighteenth Century (N.Y.: Columbia UP, 1997)21. 2 Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison, transl. Alan Sheridan (N.Y.: Vintage Books, 1977) 138. 23 Ibid., 141-153.  166  weaving potent spells with Gunpowder and Bohea. At the tea-table she reigns omnipotent, unapproachable. What do men know of the mysterious beverage? Read how poor Hazlitt made his tea and shudder at the dreadful barbarism. How clumsily the wretched creatures attempt to assist the witch president of the tea-tray; how hopelessly they hold the kettle, how continually they imperil the frail cups and saucers, or the taper hands of the priestess. To do away with the tea-table is to rob woman of her legitimate empire. To send a couple of hulking men about your visitors, distributing a mixture made in the housekeeper's room, is to reduce the most social and friendly of ceremonies to a formal giving out of rations. Better the pretty influence of the tea-cups and saucers gracefully wielded in a woman's hand, than all the inappropriate power snatched at the point of the pen from the unwilling sterner sex. Imagine all the women of England elevated to the high level of masculine intellectuality; superior to crinoline; above pearl powder and Mrs. Rachel Levison; above taking the pains to be pretty; above making themselves agreable; above tea-tables, and that cruelly scandalous and rather satirical gossip which even strong men delight in; and what a dreary, utilitarian, ugly life the sterner sex must lead. My lady was by no means strong-minded. The starry diamond upon her white fingers flashed hither and thither amongst the tea-things, and she bent her pretty head over the marvellous Indian tea-caddy of sandal-wood, and silver, with as much earnestness as if life held no higher purpose than the infusion of Bohea.24  The above passage illuminates how the tea-ritual produced disciplined and gendered bodies through the creation of a functional site and the ranked distribution of bodies within this space. In this vein, the tea table is the woman's "legitimate empire," the only space in which she holds supreme rule and "reigns omnipotent," seated at her assigned station behind the china and silver. The rituals of the tea table also demonstrate the requisite correlation of the body and the gesture, and the definition of each relation that the body must have with particular objects. Thus, there exists a "magic harmony to her every movement," and a pretty influence to the "tea cups and saucers gracefully wielded in a woman's hand." Braddon reveals, through this passage, that such gendering and disciplining of the body through the rituals of tea serve to legitimate and solidify the social separation of the sexes. While Braddon insidiously critiques such disciplinary rituals, the identities of Victorian middle-class women were, for the most part, highly invested in just such ritualized productions of gendered and classed identities. The decision of one Miss  Mary Elizabeth Braddon, LadyAudley's Secret (1862), ed. David Skelton (Oxford: Oxford U.P, 1998) 222-223.  167  Bompas to have her studio portrait photograph taken at the tea table underscores the importance of the ritual of tea to one's self-representation (figure 35). However, the madness and meaninglessness of the Mad Hatter's tea-party deconstructs the social hierarchies and significations invested in ritual ceremonies such as afternoon tea, suggesting just how unstable and precarious the foundations of order, categories and boundaries are, and how easily they may be overturned. Indeed, the more dependent upon the ritualization of eating these categories become, the more vulnerable they are to infringement and renegotiation. No female presence presides at the Mad Hatter's tea table, frequented by the male Mad Hatter and the degendered March Hare and Doormouse. The absence of the female harmonizing influence results in disorder and disarray, as the Mad Hatter offers Alice nonexistent wine, insults her personal appearance and upsets the milk jug. Moreover, the party adheres to no ritualistic time-table. Indeed, for this motley crew there exists no "tea-time": as the clock is perpetually at six o'clock, it is always tea-time, and the over-presence of the ritual depletes it of any ritualistic signification and disciplinary power. Yet although the Hatter's tea table may seem mad and meaningless, it nevertheless remains a site of power play and a significant locus for false pretenses, manipulation, and dissimulation. In this respect, the Hatter, the Hare and the Doormouse - the "insiders" - seek to isolate and exclude Alice, claiming that there is "no room" at the empty table.25 They then prod her to '"take some more tea,"' although Alice has "'had nothing yet.'"26 Alice rejects this nonsensical social order by rejecting the tea party and walking away "in great disgust."  In  refusing to partake of the tea ceremony, she then refuses to participate in the categories and boundaries encoded therein.  Carroll, 66. Ibid, 65. Ibid, 67.  168  The manipulation of social codes thus requires the manipulation of the body through either the suppression or the indulgence of appetite. Paradoxically, however, with this physical self-manipulation can come a loss of autonomy and a lack of authority over one's own body. In this vein, Alice's ingestion of cake causes her to grow rapidly - so much so that she loses sight of her feet and hands in a type of self-mutilation or dismemberment. With this self-mutilation comes the loss of control over her body, and the sense of her own flesh as something alien and "Other," something separate and apart from her perceived "self: 'Good-bye feet! ...Oh my poor little feet, I wonder who will put on your shoes and stockings for you now, dears? I'm sure I sha'n't be able! I shall be a great deal too far off to trouble myself about you: you must manage the best way you can... And oh, my poor hands, how is it I ca'n't see you?'28 This sense of disembodiment and loss of control brings with it the fear of an ultimate disembodiment resulting in death. Thus, Alice: waited for a few minutes to see if she was going to shrink any further: she felt a little nervous about this; 'for it might end, you know,' said Alice to herself, 'in my going out altogether, like a candle. I wonder what I should be like then?' 29 Ironically, then, with the very act of using the body and the appetite to express and negotiate one's role or position within society comes the risk of losing or damaging the sense of autonomous and cohesive identity so crucial to such an endeavour. The alienation between self and body and between will and desire can lead to the indiscriminate privileging of the body's appetites, as the desire to consume silences the voice of reason. Soon, Alice needs no prompting labels to encourage her ingestion. She indiscriminately ingests anything that seems remotely edible: By this time she had found her way into a tidy little room with a table in the window, and on it (as she had hoped) a fan and two or three pairs of tiny white kid-gloves: she took up the fan and a pair of the gloves, and was just going to leave the room, when her eye fell Ibid, 16, 47. Ibid, 14.  169  upon a little bottle that stood near the looking-glass. There was no label this time with the words 'DRTNK ME,' but nevertheless she uncorked it and put it to her lips. 'I know something interesting is sure to happen,' she said to herself, 'whenever I eat or drink anything: so I'll just see what this bottle does.'30 The above passage illuminates with uncanny precision the dynamics surrounding women, eating, and the configuration of women's "monstrous" appetite in the Victorian imagination. In this instance, Alice's oral consumption stems from ennui, specifically the sense of boredom and frustrated impotence that comes from being the confined "Angel in the House." She ingests out of the desire to "grow large" and out of the wish for "something interesting" (italics mine) to happen - in other words, out of a need for empowerment and the expansion of opportunities.31 Yet such growth and independence would preclude Alice from playing the role of passive daughter, bound to the family sphere. Such a shift in role-playing would threaten the stability of the domestic enclosure. In this manner, Carroll depicts Alice as literally bursting out of the house - the angel turned monster, erupting from the home, and disrupting the symbolic order it represents. II: A Wonderland of Visual Consumption How might Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, in addition to depicting oral consumption, also depict visual consumption? While waiting for the trial to begin, Alice spies "a large dish of tarts" in the middle of the courtroom; "they looked so good, that it made Alice quite hungry to look at them." As "there seemed to be no chance" that these "refreshments" would be passed around, Alice contents herself with "looking at everything about her to pass away the time."32 In this scene, looking at first engenders, and then replaces, the desire to eat. Seeing the desirable object gives rise to the need to consume and incorporate it, making it part of oneself. When this act of bodily appropriation is prohibited, viewing becomes a means to possess visually that 30  Ibid., 32.  170  which one cannot appropriate physically. This link between visual and oral consumption pervades the text: the Mad Hatter debates whether '"I see what I eat' is the same thing as 'I eat what I see,'" and Alice consumes the content of the bottle labeled "DRINK ME" out of the desire to "shut up like a telescope."33 If the act of oral consumption in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland serves as a means of understanding and navigating one's environment, so too does the act of visual consumption provide a way of comprehending and classifying the world and its constituent objects. Alice struggles to piece together meaning in the world of Wonderland, where there seems to be a breakdown between signifier and signified. Her attempt to communicate with the mouse fails abysmally over a confusion between "not" and "knot,"34 and Alice fails to comprehend the Mad Hatter's speech, which "seemed to her to have no sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English."35 Understanding is linked to the ability to conceptualize visually: "I don't see," the Caterpillar informs Alice as she struggles to "explain" herself.36 This inability to conceptualize visually leads to the failure to identify people and objects on the basis of their appearance. Alice has difficulty in categorizing mustard: she knows that "mustard isn't a bird," but only later comes to the conclusion that "it's a vegetable. It doesn't look like one but it is."37 While the pigeon fails to distinguish a little girl from a serpent, Alice has no more success in differentiating a baby from a pig. Wonderland experiences a disintegration of referentiality and a deconstruct on of the visual order. This lack of correspondence between signifier and signified is conceived as a gap between the visual representation and the "real" object. The Queen's gardeners, for example, diligently manipulate the appearance of the roses: "a large rose-tree stood near the entrance of 32  Ibid, 96. "ibid, 61,13. 34 Ibid, 29. 35 Ibid, 62.  171  the garden: the roses growing on it were white, but there were three gardeners at it, busily painting them red."38 Carroll himself engaged in just such artistic manipulation, on one occasion painting over the white flowers in a portrait photograph he took of Tom Taylor, the Editor of Punch, in 1863.39 Thus, the above scene in all probability draws directly upon a photographic sensibility. It provides an incisive commentary on the pervasiveness of a photographic consciousness - of a photographic method of visually categorizing and conceptualizing the world. Yet, the scene also offers a patent exposure of the ability of (photographic) representation to manipulate appearances - to distort "truth" and "reality." There exists, suggests Carroll, no fixed relationship between the representation and the represented object. Indeed, in this Wonderland where signifiers are severed from the signifieds and visual categories can no longer contain the proliferation of circulating referents, it becomes difficult to distinguish between the representation and "reality" - between the copy and the original. The "real turtle" has transformed into a "Mock Turtle" - the simulacrum permanently replacing the original.40 In the same vein, while Alice cannot distinguish between Tweedledee and Tweedledum, neither can she tell whether they are alive or are "wax-work" copies. Significantly, Tweedledum informs Alice that she must pay for her looking: "'If you think we're wax-works,' he said, 'you ought to pay, you know. Wax-works weren't made to be looked at for nothing.'"41 In so doing, he thus links visual consumption with the consumption of goods, and the currency of images with monetary currency. This representation of Tweedledum and Tweedledee as simulacra, and as images for visual and monetary consumption, holds particular resonance as the twins are, themselves, identical copies of a Punch cartoon figure familiar to the  36  Ibid, 41. Ibid, 81. 38 Ibid., 69. Helmut Gernsheim, Lewis Carroll: Photographer, rev. ed. (N.Y.: Dover Publications, 1969) 32. 40 Carroll, 84, 82. 41 Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872, ed. Roger Lancelyn Green (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971) 159. 37  172  British public: Master John Bull. John Tenniel frequently used the character - who symbolized a young English "Everyman" - in cartoons in Punch lampooning either domestic or international political affairs.42 The readership of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland would thus be aware of Tweedledum and Tweedledee's mirror imaging of Master John Bull and, in turn, their status as representations of England. If Tweedledum and Tweedledee are simulacra, then England, or the idea of the nation is, by extension, just such a representation, severed from any referent. What this then suggests is that the British public, like customers paying to see wax-works, are "buying into" as well as visually consuming the fabrication and proliferation of an imaginary England. While images in Wonderland proliferate and circulate in a visual spectacle, the visual order of Wonderland is not limited to the spectacular, but also incorporates the regime of surveillance. At the trial of the tarts, both the King and the Queen of Hearts seek to constitute and legitimate their positions of power and control of knowledge through techniques of surveillance: "the King put on his spectacles and looked anxiously round, to make out who was talking," and the Queen, in turn, "put on her spectacles and began to stare hard at the Hatter, who turned pale and fidgeted."43 The incorporation of such techniques of surveillance into the trial scene indirectly draws upon a photographic modality in its similarity to the use of the eye of the camera to observe, control, identify and capture criminals. This regime of surveillance co-exists alongside the regime of the spectacle. The continuation to Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, contains a scene that encapsulates the imbrication of these two aspects of the visual order present throughout both of the Alice narratives. Alice, expressing the desire to "make a grand survey of the country she was going to travel through," stands on tiptoe in order  I'm indebted to Michael Handler's The Tenniel Illustrations to the "Alice Books" (Athens: Ohio State UP, 1985) 3, for pointing out the link between these figures. 43 Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, 97, 98.  173  to "see a little further."44 Her desire to obtain a panoramic view of the landscape transports her to a train. She finds herself mysteriously ensconced in a train hurtling over the checkered terrain of the looking-glass world. By observing the passing landscape through the window of the train, Alice obtains access to greater mobility and greater realms of vision. Yet as she becomes a more voracious observer, she herself is rendered visible and consumed by the observing gaze: "all this time the Guard was looking at her, first through a telescope, then through a microscope, and then through an opera-glass."43 Alice is thus simultaneously a consumer of the spectacle and an observed object in a regime of surveillance. John TennieFs illustration of this scene highlights the imbrication of the two visual regimes by depicting Alice within the train car, acutely uncomfortable, head bowed and eyes downcast, docilely submitting to the controlling gaze of the Guard, who eyes her through an ominously large pair of opera glasses (figure 36). Nancy Armstrong points out that in the spectacular visual order of Wonderland, "objects elude human control and begin to manipulate the consumer."46 These objects, however, also elude surveillance and the identifying and disciplining gaze. Humpty Dumpty strategically undermines the physiognomic conventions central to the Victorian classificatory system: 'I shouldn't know you again if we did meet,' Humpty Dumpty replied in a discontented tone, giving her one of his fingers to shake: 'you're so exactly like other people.' 'The face is what one goes by, generally,' Alice remarked in a thoughtful tone. 'That's just what I complain of,' said Humpty Dumpty. 'Your face is the same as everybody has - the two eyes, so - (marking their places in the air with his thumb) nose in the middle, mouth under. It's always the same. Now if you had the two eyes on the same side of the nose, for instance - or the mouth at top - that would be some help. Humpty Dumpty reveals the inability of physiognomic codes to categorize particular bodies and reify particular "types." He criticizes the Victorian attempt to know the world through images by 44  Carroll, Ihrough the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There (1872), ed. Roger Lancelyn Green (Oxford: Oxford UP, 1982) 148. 45 Ibid., 149-150. 46 Nancy Armstrong, Fiction in the Age ofPhotography: The Legacy ofBritish Realism (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard UP, 1999)31.  174  problematizing the ability of the image to define people and questioning the use of the image as a framework to know, define and classify the various spectrums of society. As I pointed out in Chapter Two, the carte-de-visite photographs claimed to render the body legible and classifiable through the utilization of physiognomic codes. The circulation of these photographs made the Victorian public familiar with reading the faces and bodies of different "types," and resulted in their transferring this analytical gaze from the photographs to the world around them, reading real people as they would pictures. By informing Alice that he cannot "know" and categorize her by reading her face, since her face is identical to any other, Humpty Dumpty renders problematic not only the act of reading people as images, but also the codified system of representationally constructing differential identities. HI: Carroll, Photography and the Visual Order "Lewis Carroll" would be intimately familiar with the physiognomic and representational conventions utilized in the encoding and decoding of images. Charles Dodgson passionately pursued the emerging art form of photography, and dedicated his energies to portraiture in particular. He began photographing in 1856, and the years 1863 and 1864 - the period during which he was writing Alice's Adventures - witnessed his most prolific and artistically successful output of photographic portraits.47 Although he did not begin making carte-de-visite and cabinetsized portraits until 1873, he nevertheless produced and circulated a vast number of portraits. Indeed, he photographed many "celebrities" of his day: Alfred Tennyson, the Rossettis, George MacDonald, Arthur Hughes, John Everett Millais, Ellen Terry, the Crown Prince of Denmark, and Prince Leopold, the youngest son of Queen Victoria, among others. He collected these photographs in his own album, often adding verses and quotations, and would proudly display  Gernsheim, 15. Gernsheim, 70.  175  his album when visiting or receiving visitors.49 He also sold the negatives and copyrights of some of these photographs. A photograph of Tennyson, for example, was published by Joseph Cundall & Co. under their name as a carte-de-visite in 1861, and a portrait of Dante Gabriel Rossetti was published by the London Stereoscopic Company as a carte-de-visite and as a cabinet-sized photograph.50 While Dodgson boasted to his sister of his own "peculiar skill in physiognomy,"51 he nevertheless scathingly parodied the use of physiognomic conventions and coded gestures in the photographic representation and construction of identity. "Hiawatha's Photographing," published in Rhyme? And Reason? (1887) and illustrated by Arthur B. Frost, describes a photographer's frustrating attempts to take portrait photographs of the various members of a family. The photographed individuals ostentatiously perform for the camera, seeking to manipulate their image and to construct particular identities. The father attempts to achieve a Napoleonic effect: "He would hold a scroll of something,/Hold it firmly in his left-hand/He would keep his right-hand buried/(Like Napoleon) in his waistcoat."52 While the mother aims for Empress-like stature and the son strikes a dandified pose, the daughter tries to fabricate herself as a Pre-Raphaelite "stunner," her attempt mercilessly ridiculed by Carroll: "Her idea of passive beauty/Was a squinting of the left-eye,/was a drooping of the right-eye,/was a smile that went up Sideways/To the corner of the nostrils."  Frost's illustrative rendering of this  "photograph" bears remarkable similarity to the Punch satires of women who followed the PreRaphaelite fashions which were, in turn, parodies of the Pre-Raphaelite model Jane Morris (figure 37). Interestingly, the only photograph that Hiawatha deems a success is that of the youngest son - the sole unwilling victim of the camera lens (figure 38). The illustration evokes 49  Morton N. Cohen, Lewis Carroll: A Biography (NY.: Alfred A. Knopf, 1995) 161. Gernsheim, 41. 51 Ibid., 60. 52 Lewis Carroll, "Hiawatha's Photographing," in Rhyme? And Reason? illus. Arthur B. Frost. 1887 (London: Macmillan, 1898)68. 50  176  the dynamics involved in photographing criminals (see figure 5). It portrays him standing in front and to the right of a supportive stand designed to help the sitter hold his head still and his body in one position. His face is screwed up - perhaps in an expression of extreme displeasure and sullen defiance, or perhaps in an attempt to obscure his physiognomy and disguise his identity. Three disembodied and admonishing hands gesticulate at him from the sides of the frame, ostensibly instructing him how to move or not move, and threatening him with the repercussions of uncooperativity. This verbal/visual text incisively comments upon photography's role in the discursive production of bodies. While their bodies and identities are materialized through the photograph, the photograph also functions to observe, survey and render docile these same bodies. "Hiawatha's Photographing" reveals the performative status of gendered and classed identities; these identities are produced through citational and reiterative practices. The effect of an internal core or substance is produced on the surface of the body through the play of signifying gestures. Such acts and enactments are performative in the sense that the essences or identities that they purport to express are fabrications manufactured and sustained through corporeal signs and other discursive means. The hyperbolic conformity to the command present in this verbal/visual text reveals and renders legible the hyperbolic status of the norm itself. Carroll continues this exposition and critique of identity production in some of his own photographs. He took several photographs of the Liddell sisters and Xie Kitchin as "Chinamen" (figures 39-41), and of Alice Liddell as a "Beggar-Maid" (figure 42).54 By dressing up these young, upper-middle-class girls as "beggars" and "Chinamen" and taking cabinet-sized portrait photographs of them, he reveals how the identities produced and reified through the circulation  53  Ibid, 72. Alexandra (Xie) Kitchin was the daughter of the Reverend George William Kitchin, Dean of Winchester and, later, Durham. Lorina, Alice and Edith Liddell were the daughters of Henry George Liddell, Dean of Christ Church and Vice-Chancellor of Oxford University. See Gernsheim, 85. 54  177  of carte-de-visite "types" are, in fact, illusory constructions as opposed to truthful statements. The photographs depict gender, class and racial cross-dressing. Cross-dressing plays upon the distinction between the sex, class or race of the performer and that which is being performed. In so doing, it implicitly reveals the imitative and citational structure of these categories. The subversiveness of "Hiawatha's Photographing" is located in, and enabled by, the poem's generic status as parody. However, the photographs of cross-dressed girls occupy a far more ambiguous position. Neither overtly parodic nor subversive, these photographs were placed in portrait albums alongside far more conventional carte-de-visites and portrait photos. The photographs do, however, emphasize the distinction between the status of the performer and the identity performed. Xie Kitchin is patently neither Chinese nor male, and neither can Alice Liddell be mistaken for an actual impoverished beggar. Dodgson's portrait of Alice as "Beggar-Maid" stands in stark contrast to his portrait of a working-class girl, "Coates," the daughter of an employee at Croft Rectory (figure 43). Coates sits in a rough, dirty stairwell, head resting on her hand, gazing forlornly into the distance. Alice, conversely, faces the viewers head-on, confronting their gaze, arm akimbo. Her blatantly theatrical stance, combined with her full frontal stare, reveal that she belongs to the privileged classes and only performs the workingclass role. The fact that Carroll believed that individuals should consort only with members of their own class suggests that these photographs may operate more as fetish-objects than as subversive statements.55 Their fetishism lies in the blatant exhibition of difference and the embodiment of ambiguity. By photographing Alice as a "Beggar-Maid," Dodgson can obtain an ocular access both to the body of his favourite "friend" and to the fantasized embodiment of the disavowed working-class girl. Indeed, the scopophilic pleasure the viewer derives from these  55  In a letter to Beatrice Hatch, dated February 16, 1894, Dodgson rhapsodizes about a beautiful child he has seen and laments the fact that, due to their class difference, she cannot become part of his coterie of girl-friends: "I fear I must be content with her name, only: the social gulf between us is probably too wide for it to be wise to make friend^' quoted in Gernsheim, 82.  178  images is founded in the cross-dresser's display of difference. What drag exposes is the "normal" constitution of identity in which the identity performed - be it gender, race or class - is made possible through the formation of a set of disavowed identifications, which comprises a different domain of the abject and unperformable. This domain of the abject forever allures - invoking in the repelling subject a paradoxically fearful desire - with the knowledge of what had to be denied and rendered illicit in order to constitute a socially acceptable self. In this sense, then, insofar as the viewing subject obtains a subtly illicit pleasure in gazing at bodies that transgress or confuse the norm, there exists a pornographic quality to these images. This pornographic quality imbues most of Dodgson's photographs of little girls. Dodgson was particularly drawn to photographing his young subjects in a state of repose and in the nude. He returns to this compositional structure again and again, in an almost fetishistic frenzy, driven in a repeat performance to re-enact photographically and reify a certain fascination that continually eludes capture, that refuses to be conclusively defined by the camera's lens. In photographing slumbering girls, Dodgson followed artistic conventions. As mentioned in the previous chapter, images of slumbering women emphasized the eroticism of the "pure" woman's body. Dodgson's photographs display this same paradoxical combination of sexualized purity. Victorian society upheld the girl child as an icon of unalloyed innocence. Yet the photograph allows the viewer to obtain voyeuristic access to the sleeping girl - opening up her body to the consuming gaze. Dodgson could have been attempting - like the photographer Julia Margaret Cameron who made several studies based on Pre-Raphaelite paintings - to raise the status of photography to an art form by emulating the subject matter of contemporary paintings. Photographers such as Oscar Gustave Rejlander appropriated painterly conventions of depicting the female body - in particular the nude female body - to try to establish a legitimate position for art photography  179  (figure 44). Dodgson's photographic imagination was influenced by the work of Rejlander; he himself sat for Rejlander, and he perused the artist's prints and negatives, judging them "very beautiful."56 Dodgson even borrowed one of Sir Frederick Leighton's child models for six of his own photographic nude "studies."  His nude photographs with oil-painted highlights of Evelyn  and Beatrice Hatch and Annie and Francis Henderson (figures 45-48) bear compositional similarities to painted nudes of women, in particular Frederic Leighton's Actaea, Nymph of the Shore (1868) (figure 49). Dodgson's diaries first refer to his taking photographs of girls "sans habilement" in 1867.58 He professed that these photographs were "valuable as works of art," and regarded the "innocent unconsciousness" of nude girls as "very beautiful," inspiring in him a "feeling of reverence, as at the presence of something sacred."59 Such expressions echo Victorian sentimentalism concerning the perceived angelic purity of girl children. Indeed, the adoption of such rhetoric enabled Dodgson to take these photographs under the purview of culturally acceptable child worship. Dodgson's own writings reveal the ambiguity behind the veneer of sacred reverence. In a subsequent letter to Mrs. Henderson, he writes of his intention to destroy all but one copy of each of his nude photographs of her daughters, stating that although he considers them "perfectly innocent in themselves," there is no one to whom he would give photographs that "so entirely defy conventional rules."60 Dodgson's comment highlights the role of the viewer in interpreting and completing the meaning of the photographic image, and acknowledges the potential pornographic quality of the photographs. The boundaries separating art from pornography were far from distinct during this period - especially when the art form was photography. If the female nude was considered an object of aesthetic appreciation in painting, it did not necessarily 56  Diary entry, March 28th, 1863, in The Diaries of Lewis Carroll, vol. 1, ed. Roger Lancelyn Green (London: Cassell & Company Ltd.) 194. 57 Diary entry, July 4th, 1879, in Green, vol. 2, 381. 58 Diary entry, May 21st, 1867, in Gernsheim, 65. 59 Letter to Mrs. Henderson, May 31 st , 1880, quoted in Cohen, 171.  180  hold the same status in photography. The photograph's perceived inability to transcend the materiality of its depicted subject prevented it from transcending the pornographic and entering into the realm of the artistic.61 The fact that the figure captured by the photographic lens was "real" affected the viewer's evaluation of the image, no matter how assiduously the photographer sought to adopt the conventions of fine art. Such pornographization of the body of the nude child applied to book illustration as much as to photographic representation. In a letter instructing Henry Furniss, illustrator of Sylvie and Bruno, on the depiction of the fairy children Dodgson states: "I wish I dared dispense with all costume. Naked children are so perfectly pure and lovely; but Mrs. Grundy would be furious - it would never do."  A letter from John Ruskin to the children's book illustrator Kate  Greenaway illuminates the ambiguous status that representations of Victorian girls occupied. Under the guise of giving the illustrator instructions for improving her technique, he requests Greenaway to send him drawings of her little girls in the nude: As we've got so far as taking off hats, I trust we may in time get to take off just a little more - say mittens - and then - perhaps - even shoes! And - (for fairies) even ... stockings - and then - ... will you (it's all for your own good -!) make her stand up and then draw her for me without a cap - and without shoes, ~ (because of the heels) and without her mittens, and without her - frock and frills? And let me see exactly how tall she is - and how - round. It will be so good of and for you - And to and for me. Ruskin's fetishistic undressing of this imaginary little girl is overtly erotic, and demonstrates the status which such images could potentially hold for certain members of the viewing audience. IV: Illustrating Alice: Dodgson's Version Dodgson's own illustrations for the manuscript version of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland- entitled Alice's Adventures Underground- are imbued with just such a  60  Letter to Mrs. Henderson, June 21, 1881, quoted in Cohen, 168. Alison Smith, The Victorian Nude: Sexuality, Morality and Art (Manchester: Manchester UP, 1996) 55. 62 Quoted in Gernsheim, 21. Quoted in Rodney Engen, Kale Greenaway (N.Y.: Schoken, 1981) 93-94. 61  181  pornographic undertone. While scholarship has pointed out the Pre-Raphaelite influence on the illustrations - in particular of Arthur Hughes' Girl with Lilacs (1863) on Dodgson's depiction of Alice - attention has not been drawn to ways in which the illustrations are informed by a photographic sensibility.64 If the proliferation of photographic images influenced the ways in which Victorians perceived and evaluated the world around them and the objects within it, it seems probable that an avid photographer such as Dodgson would be particularly influenced by the photograph. In "A Photographer's Day Out," published in The South Shields Amateur Magazine in 1860, Dodgson's narrator (a photographer) comments on the powerlessness of words to describe the object of his admiration: "nothing but a Talbotype could do it."65 Indeed, the narrator perceives his beloved as if she were a photographic image: Her nose was in beautiful perspective - her mouth wanting perhaps the least possible fore-shortening - but the exquisite half-tints on the cheek would have blinded me to any defects, and as to the high light on her chin, it was (photographically speaking) perfection.66 For the narrator, the photograph replaces verbal methods of depiction as the most authoritative and accurate means of representing and understanding the world and its occupants: "why should I describe myself? My photograph (done by myself) will be sufficient evidence to the world."67 If the photograph served as the narrator's primary means of viewing and comprehending the world, it probably played an equally important epistemological role for the author. Tennyson, on recounting to Dodgson how he dreamed passages of poetry, aptly remarked that Dodgson must so  "dream photographs." This photographic imagination shapes the dream-world of Wonderland.  64  See Jeffrey Stern, "Lewis Carroll the Pre-Raphaelite 'Fainting in Coils,'" in Lewis Carroll Observed: A Collection of Unpublished Photographs, Drawings, Poetry and New Essays, ed. Edward Guiliano (NY.: ClarksonN. Potter, Inc., 1976) 161-180. 5 Lewis Carroll, "A Photographer's Day Out," The South Shields Amateur Magazine, 1860, reprinted in Gernsheim, 122. 66 Ibid. 67 Ibid. 68 Diary entry, April 17 1858, in Green, 146.  182  While John Tenniel's illustrations accompanied the volume's publication, and thus shaped its meaning and reception, they were not the first, nor the intended, visual representations of the verbal text. Indeed, of the ninety-two drawings that Tenniel produced for Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, Dodgson professed to like only one - Humpty Dumpty.69 Dodgson himself illustrated the first manuscript - created as a gift for Alice Liddell and completed in 1864 - with thirty-seven illustrations of his own.70 Thus, despite his decision to hire out the illustrating for the published manuscript, he obviously held certain notions of just how the visual text should illustrate the verbal, and of the effects he desired that such visualization produce. The text self-reflexively comments on its verbal/visual duality and highlights the importance of the illustrations in completing the meaning of the verbal text. The story opens with the oft-quoted line '"what is the use of a book, thought Alice, with no pictures or conversation?'"71 Carroll the storyteller intersperses his narrative with comments such as "if you don't know what a Gryphon is, look at the picture."72 While Tenniel included four depictions of Alice's oral consumption and its effects, Dodgson included seven in the considerably shorter manuscript version. The illustrative focusing on oral consumption in a story wherein the illustrations hold an equal if not greater status than the verbal text, suggests that Dodgson envisioned (dis)orderly eating as central to the narrative. The first illustration of Alice's wayward oral consumption accompanies the passage in which she "open[s] out like the largest telescope that ever was,"73 and subsequently experiences a sense of dismemberment and loss of control over her own body and over its possession and representation: "Goodbye, feet!... oh, my poor little feet, I wonder who will put on your shoes  Harry Furniss, "Recollections o f Lewis Carroll,'" Strand Magazine, (April 1908) 50, 52, quoted in Hancher, 119. Susan E. Meyer, A Treasury of the Great Children's Book Illustrators (N. Y.: Harry N. Abrams, Inc., Publishers, 1997) 65. 71 Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, 9. 72 Ibid., 83. 73 Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures Under Ground, facsimile edition (London: Pavilion Books, 1985) n.p. 70  183  and stockings for you now, dears?"74 (figure 50). The illustration depicts these issues of disorderly eating and the control and representation of the body by adopting a distinctly photographic mode of visualization. In this manner, the drawing represents Alice as an object of the photographic gaze: she stands alone against the stark white background characteristic of the photographic "type," hands demurely folded in front of her, head tilted in submission, eyes downcast. Her downcast eyes establish a clear hierarchy of viewing subject and viewed object. She thus becomes the visible object of an invisible and controlling gaze. Alice's elongated neck, stretching thinly upwards from narrowed shoulders, marks her body as deviant, while the photographic rendering classifies, delimits and controls any definitional and social threat posed by the disorderly eater. As a friend of Dr. Hugh Welch Diamond, Dodgson certainly would have been aware of the use of photography in defining, controlling and representing deviancy.75 If Diamond's photographs borrow from the conventions of art photography, then perhaps Dodgson's illustrations utilize the representational methods of psychiatric photography. His visual portrayal of Alice's symbolic and literal disruption of domestic order borrows from psychiatric conventions of providing photographic depictions of the various stages of a patient's "illness," or deviance from social conventions of gender behaviour. In this vein, he provides four sequential pictures illustrating different stages in Alice's consumption, growth and disruption (figures 5154). The first figure shows Alice eagerly unstopping the bottle, tilted toward her awaiting mouth. The second image depicts Alice having just drunk from the offending bottle: vial in hand, her neck and head bend at an uncomfortable angle and press against the periphery of the picture. The following image depicts the second stage of this uncontrolled growth, as the expanding  In a diary entry for January 18, 1856, Dodgson states: "Southey came over to spend the day in photography, but we went instead to Dr. Diamond of the Surrey Lunatic Asylum: He gave me two he had done lately...," in Green, 74.  184  Alice fills the space of the White Rabbit's house. The concluding image portrays the final stage of her growth as her arm erupts from the house, threatening to obliterate its proprietor. The penultimate illustration proves particularly striking. Dodgson portrays Alice barely contained by the rectangular frame that distorts her body. As opposed to placing the figure in an actual room, Dodgson deposits her in a type of display case - and sets her up as an exhibit on spectacle. In fact, this illustration mimics both the material framework and the technical process of a photograph. Alice's body folds up on itself in an acutely uncomfortable position in order to fit within the frame provided by the camera's lens. One of her legs is tucked underneath her body while the other juts out at an awkward angle, the foot pressed into the corner of the frame. "The Ladye's History," published posthumously in The Lewis Carroll Picture Book (1899), illuminates the technical difficulty of fitting the subject's entire body within the photographic frame: Heyt was that undertook my Picture: yn which I mainly required one thyng, that yt should bee at full-length, for yri none other way mighte my Loftiness bee trulie set forth. Nevertheless, though hee took manie Pictures, yet all fayled yn thys: beginning at the Hedde, reeched not toe the Feet; others, taking yn the Feet, yet left out the Hedde... 76 The fact that Dodgson manipulates Alice's body into the space of the photographic frame illustrates how the unruly, deviant body can be contained and controlled by the frame and by the photographic gaze. As the image of her contained deviance is proffered for the viewers' perusal, Alice the consumer becomes an item of consumption. This disturbingly perverse staging assumes the semiotic framework of a freak show, and produces reactionary effects. By displaying Alice as a bottled creature - a twisted and doubled-over reluctant contortionist Dodgson offers up the spectacle of the body in pain, and thereby provides the audience with a  Lewis Carroll, "The Ladye's History," in The Lewis Carroll Picture Book, ed. Stuart Dodgson Collingwood (London: Collins' Clear-Type Press, 1899) 244.  frisson of enjoyment. In so doing, he transforms the rebellious daughter into a deviant, hence mitigating the potential disruption of her disorderly behaviour. Michel Foucault asserts that, unlike the spectacle of monarchical punishment, which works on the criminal's body, and the representational system of punishment, which appeals to the reason of both the criminal and the witness, the modern disciplinary society manipulates the soul by targeting the body. This form of discipline is, according to Foucault, "a relation that not only renders the dimension of the spectacle useless: it excludes it. The agent of punishment must exercise a total power, which no third party can disturb."77 Dodgson punishes Alice's desire to "grow larger" and to escape the confines of the domestic sphere by imprisoning her excessive body in a claustrophobically small room. He thus establishes an analogy between the crime committed and the punishment rendered. By placing Alice in a transparent display-case and dedicating an entire page to the illustration, Dodgson also makes this punishment highly visible a statement of the repercussions of deviant behaviour. Alice's captivity in the White Rabbit's house thus serves as an example of "representational punishment," whereby the punished body itself was not important so much as the representations of the body and its status as a form of currency - a "legible lesson" - circulating throughout society.78 The power of the image is thus predicated on a series of possible relations between the viewers and the body. The female child who views this illustration, approaching it from the subject position of the potential deviant, is warned of the repercussions of engaging in similar non-conformist behaviour as the fictional Alice. Yet for the non-targeted sector of the viewing population, might not the displayed body provide a source of curiosity? Dodgson sets up Alice as a deviant body - a body that escapes and transgresses the (gender) norm. As such, her abject body would elicit the dual response of visual repulsion and desire, anxiety and fascination. Thus  78  Foucault, Discipline and Punish, 129. Ibid, 111.  186  there exists a pornographic undertone to this image, insofar as the viewers would gain a scopophilic pleasure in perusing the body exhibited to their gaze. By framing this representational punishment as a photograph, moreover, Dodgson reveals how the two regimes of bodily representation - that of surveillance and that of representational punishment - can imbricate. V: Illustrating Alice: TenniePs (Re)Vision In 1863, at the urging of George Macdonald's children, Dodgson decided to publish his story of Alice's adventures. He began to transfer his drawings onto wood blocks for wood engravings. However, when he took his first wood block to the engraver Orlando Jewitt, Jewitt persuaded him that the skill of a professional artist was required in order to make his story publishable.  Accordingly, after consulting with his publisher, Alexander Macmillan, Dodgson  decided to enlist the services of John Tenniel. Dodgson chose Tenniel out of admiration for the artist's renditions of animals and fantastic creatures. In a letter to his friend Tom Taylor, a journalist for Punch, Dodgson requested an introduction to Tenniel and explained his project. He added: If he should be willing to undertake them [the woodcut illustrations] I would send him the book to look over, not that he should at all follow my pictures, but simply to give him an idea of the sort of thing I want.80 Once Tenniel agreed to the project, Dodgson accordingly sent him his own illustrations. He even sent the artist a detailed list of all the requisite drawings, with their dimensions and placement upon the page written in mathematical code.81 While Tenniel did faithfully follow many of Dodgson's original illustrations, the artist also heeded his own artistic vision - even when it came into conflict with that of the writer. He even succeeded in persuading Dodgson to 79 80  Rodney Engen, Sir John Tenniel: Alice's White Knight (Hants, England: Scolar Press, 1991) 68-69. Quoted in Engen, 67.  187  change the verbal text in order to conform to his illustrations. For example, the railway carriage scene in Through the Looking-Glass originally featured Alice grabbing an old lady's hair as the carriage makes a sudden leap. Tenniel, however, suggested that Alice should grab the goat's beard instead, and left the old lady out of his sketch. Dodgson changed the text to suit the illustration, deleting the character of the old lady from the story.  In another instance, Dodgson,  at Tenniel's urging, eliminated an entire section. In a letter to the author, Tenniel wrote "I am bound to say that the 'wasp' chapter doesn't interest me in the least, and I can't see my way to a picture."83 Accordingly, Dodgson cut the passage from the text. The above cases dramatically exemplify how illustrations can shift and control the meaning of the verbal narrative. Yet in a text that so heavily relies on and privileges the visual rendition, even the subtlest variations in the illustration can influence the reception and interpretation of the narrative. Such seemingly minute yet significant shifts become apparent under close analysis of Tenniel's treatment of Alice's oral consumption. Like Dodgson, Tenniel provides an illustration for the scene of Alice opening up like a telescope (figure 54). He even duplicates Dodgson's positioning of the figure on the page. However, Tenniel shades in the background with what is presumably Alice's shadow. This shading produces the effect of three-dimensional space, thus negating the two-dimensional photographic carte quality present in Dodgson's illustration. Furthermore, far from maintaining the demure stillness required by the minute and a half exposure time required by the photograph, Tenniel's Alice flails her arms in agitated protest. She refuses, moreover, to be made a passive object of the gaze, confronting the viewer directly, eyes wide with terror, mouth agape in a silent scream. Tenniel's illustration does not allow the readers to assume the position of passive onlookers, but seeks to implicate them in the spectacle they behold.  Ibid., 74. Handier, 105.  188  Tenniel's illustration of Alice in the White Rabbit's house only includes two depictions, thus interrupting Dodgson's sequentialized layout (figures 56-57). While the illustration of Alice's arm bursting from the window does not deviate significantly from Dodgson's, the interiorized view differs in subtle but meaningful ways. Once again, Tenniel negates the photographic quality by replacing the frame with the interior of the house. Paradoxically, then, in remaining faithful to the verbal depiction, Tenniel erases the more nuanced readings Dodgson evidently saw in his text. Tenniel's scene depicts an acutely uncomfortable Alice reclining along the floor of the house, her head bent along the roof and arm stuck out the window. Unlike the eerily passive face of Dodgson's Alice, which stares blankly out at the viewer, devoid of emotion and individuality, this Alice's face is screwed up with pain and frustration. Thus while depicting the threatened eruption of the domestic sphere, Tenniel yet displays sympathy for the girl by delineating her unhappy expression, one which picks up and highlights the verbal description: "there seemed to be no sort of chance of her ever getting out of the room again, no wonder she felt so unhappy."84 In a sense, then, Tenniel's empathetic illustration upsets the precarious balance of power involved in the spectacle of the body in pain: instead of symbolically occupying the position of the torturer, and of the I/Eye who forms its subjectivity against the deviant other, the viewing audience sympathizes with the victim, and thus occupies a position of resistance. As Tenniel's illustrations have become synonymous with the text, they have influenced its meaning and interpretation. It seems that, judging from Dodgson's original illustrations, he saw a darker aspect to his own text. These dichotomous illustrative interpretations demonstrate the importance of the visual display of the body to the hunger artist's performance. The illustrations - in the reactions they produce in the reader, or the viewing audience - complete the  83 84  Quoted in The Annotated Alice, ed. Martin Gardner (Hammondsworth: Penguin Books, 1970) 221. Carroll, Alice \s Adventures in Wonderland, 33.  189  meaning of the hunger artist, either upholding or deconstructing the text of her body and the text of the narrative that she inhabits. Hence, the opposing illustrations either sympathize with the disorderly eater and thus gender and social change, or marginalize her, in effect re-ossifying social values.  190  Conclusion  Alice's attempts to control her own representation and identity through oral consumption have paradoxical results. She manages to escape the private sphere to the garden beyond, negotiate a world of severed referents and meaningless signs, and elude the surveilling judgment of the King and Queen of Hearts. Yet she must pay a price for such success. She begins to perceive her body as an image - as something separate from and other than herself, as a disembodied sign. She views her body, moreover, as a photographic image. Victorian society experienced anxiety about the ability of the photograph to convey accurately and capture "reality" even as it upheld the photograph as the record of "truth." Similarly, Alice experiences uncertainty as to whether her body accurately portrays her self. For Alice, there exists no cohesiveness between body and self, between image and reality. The generic status of the "text" of Alice's body is equally paradoxical. Like the purportedly children's text it inhabits, there exists ambivalence as to its genre: is it an incendiary work of protest or a cautionary tale, or can it perhaps be both? As we have seen from the illustrations, the text of Alice's body can be read either as a sign of quelled deviancy or as a statement of transgressive resistance. It can elicit a reaction of degratory repulsion or cooperative empathy. As a sign, it can hold a multiplicity of often contradictory meanings depending upon who performs the act of viewing and evaluating. What exactly is the relationship between oral consumption, the body, and the text? The physical body itself serves as a text - inscribed with culturally coded signification - and the disorderly eater, through ingestion or abstinence, attempts to re-write the meaning of his/her own "text." Just as the tales need a reader to bring them to life, the body-as-text requires the presence of "readers" - of an audience to witness its suffering - to produce and complete its meaning. As with the cautionary tales that s/he at times inhabits, there exists a paradoxical dual thrust to the actions and implications of the disorderly eater. Along these lines, the anorexic  191  daughter, for example, uses disordered eating as a means of rebelling against her ordained role in seeking to escape the imprisonment of her flesh to escape gender limitations. Yet, in so ravishing her body, she ironically fulfills gender exigencies by conforming to the cult of female frailty. The anorectic, in engaging in such a self-destructive form of social aggression, internalizes the mechanisms of surveillance, becoming his or her own judge and punisher. Then, insofar as a methodical justice pervades cautionary tales in which the perpetrators become the victims of their own crimes, the anorectic's body, with its own built-in punishment mechanism, is itself, in a sense, a type of cautionary tale. Yet the textual representation of the disorderly eater can manipulate, shift, contradict, or erase the signification of the eater's self-representation. Moreover, within the ensemble of the illustrated book, the pictorial component can either uphold or deconstruct the depiction offered by the verbal narrative. In this vein, by exhibiting the punishing effects of disordered eating in minute and at times lurid detail, texts such as Alice in Wonderland, "Goblin Market," "The Story of Augustus," "A Toy Princess," and Gull's treatise transform an act of rebellion into one of disciplinary punishment. The readers, in viewing the spectacle, and "reading" the literary text and the "text" of the body, can become the panoptical surveyors. However the representations can also be read as statements of resistance. As we have seen in "Goblin Market," Lizzie the hunger artist does succeed in transforming a position of submission into one of resistance. She re-works the norms from within the dominant representational framework. Thus while her body, insofar as it seems to conform to the visual representation of a "fallen woman," can be read as a cautionary tale. Lizzie, however, resists this reading by using the same codes to transform herself into a virgin. In a similar way, the poem itself can be read either as a cautionary tale or as a statement of resistance. "Goblin Market" highlights its own functionality by underlining its status as a cautionary tale, and by imbedding within the text itself a second such tale. In this manner, Lizzie and Laura repeatedly evoke the  192  story of Jeanie who pined after the goblin fruit and wasted away and Laura, when herself a mother, narrates the story of her own experience with "the wicked, quaint fruit-merchant men."1 But do Laura's moralizing lessons provide her with a means of imaginatively recapturing and reengaging in her past activities, just as the suspiciously obvious framing of "Goblin Market" as a moral lesson sanctions its readers to peruse, and vicariously participate in, its otherwise subversive contents? In a similar way, the cautionary tale "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup" could in fact be interpreted as an incitement to mutiny, just as Augustus' action, although it results in his death, could be read as a successful act of resistance. While serving as deterrents against proscribed behaviour, in articulating and visualizing this behaviour, the tales themselves also provide a means of imaginatively engaging in the prohibited activity. In a type of analogical punishment, the hunger artist becomes the victim of his own "crime" as his disobedient protest against authority results in his annihilation. Although his death can be seen as due punishment and act as an adequate deterrent, it can also be read as a potent statement of resistance to the injunctions of power-figures and the attempts at normalization. For example, whereas Gull's document depicts the normalization of "deviants" by charting the patients' progression from illness to health and from "perversity" to conformity, Hoffmann's document depicts the reverse. Augustus resists all attempts at such socialization and remains obstinately independent even in the face of death. Could his death then be interpreted as a type of martyrdom? While Hoffmann's text ostensibly functions to warn children of the perils of disobedience, could readers perhaps take strength from Augustus' example and, in sympathizing with him, likewise position themselves against authority, whether parental or social? Whether the text then has a meaning that eludes the author's intention, or whether Hoffmann perhaps deliberately infused his text with such ambiguous messages is impossible to ascertain. But the ambivalence of both the 1  Christina Rossetti, "Goblin Market," 1862, The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti, vol. 1, ed.  193  text itself as well as the text of the body does seem significant as this ambivalence is symptomatic, to varying degrees, of all the "children's" tales examined in this thesis. The problematics of reading the text of the anorexic body are perhaps most clear, at least in their connection to the mores of Victorian society, in Mary De Morgan's "A Toy Princess." By depicting Ursula's anorexia as resulting from familial and social conditions, De Morgan critiques and challenges Gull's contention that anorexia nervosa resulted from an innately feminine disposition towards nervous hysteria. De Morgan also suggests that, as a form of resistance to family and social structures, such behaviour is futile. The Queen dies from her selfstarvation because the courtiers are unable to interpret correctly the signs of her body. They read her silent docility and pale languour as conformity to their social codes instead of as a protest against them. Her actions, moreover, fail to effect any kind of change in the society she inhabited. The courtiers raise the princess according to the same conventions that her mother died protesting against. Just as the courtiers failed to interpret the queen's behaviour as a sign of resistance, so too do they fail to read accurately the text of Ursula's body. When she is most sick and taciturn, the courtiers evaluate her as the most toy-like - the most like a silent, graven image and thus the paragon of what a young woman should be. De Morgan thus incisively illustrates how anorexia is a disease that paradoxically replicates the very social conventions that the individual seeks to contend. When can one work within the norms to resist them, and when does such resistance only serve to reinscribe them? De Morgan seems to suggest that such actions, while perhaps theoretically usefully are, in practice, futile. While, according to Gull, after their rehabilitation his patients can function "normally" in their previous familial and social situations, De Morgan states otherwise. Once she returns to the court after her "cure" the princess reverts to her former anorexic behaviour. Her protest has failed to change her environment and this environment, Rebecca Crump (Baton Rouge, Louisiana: Lousiana State UP, 1979) 1. 553.  194  according to De Morgan, makes one ill. It is impossible to be healthy in such a society; the only "cure" is to escape it altogether. Significantly, it is only the Fairy Taboret - an "outsider" of the court society - who interprets Ursula's actions as a sign of protest, and it is only the fishers of a nearby village who are able to provide a healthy environment. De Morgan suggests that it is middle- and upper-middle-class society itself that breeds this illness. While she illustrates how constrictive social mores may cause such illness, she also indicates that it is a distinctly nineteenth-century visual order informed by the photographic image that enables the emergence of modern forms of disordered eating such as anorexia nervosa. "A Toy Princess" illuminates the dynamics surrounding the transformation of the body into a photographic representation - a circulating and exchangeable image severed from its referent. The text shows how in a society dominated by the photographic image, not only do people read, classify and apprehend the body as if it were an image, but the image itself gains ascendancy over "reality" as the representation becomes the real. "Goblin Market" continues this line of inquiry by commenting on how in a spectacular order dominated by the photograph, women become reproducible and commodified images. Such a society put women's bodies on display and transformed them into signs to be read and interpreted by others. Since others read the body as an image and since the body, and in particular the female body, was continually on display, one began to evaluate not only others, but also oneself, as an image. Women viewed themselves as an image seen through the eyes of others. Pathological forms of oral consumption are predicated upon this dynamic of reading the body as an analyzable text and of viewing one's body through the eyes of others. For example, even when alone in her room, Ursula considers herself as under constant surveillance and views her actions through the eyes of the courtiers. Similarly, Alice experiences her own body as alien and separate from her perceived self, and evaluates it according to the gaze of others. For these  195  young women, (not) eating becomes an attempt to control their own representation - a way of inscribing their bodies, of using the readability of the body as a means of silent speech. The texts examined in this thesis also express cultural anxieties surrounding the accuracy of representation, the reliability of vision and observation, and the "truthfulness" of the photographic image. For example, the works of Gull the physician, and Carroll the photographer and children's writer manifest, with varying degrees of self-consciousness, the ways in which photographs - in particular portraits and "types" - functioned as performatives, bringing into being that which they named. Rather than reflecting a pre-existing "reality," the subject of the photograph came into existence as a knowable and classifiable being precisely through the corporeal stylization of the photo. These photographs, moreover, insofar as they were constructed performances, depended upon an observer - a viewing audience to read and interpret them and therefore produce their meaning. Representations, therefore, whether in the form of a photographic image or a statement inscribed directly onto the body, can shift their meanings according to the decoding and simultaneously encoding eye of the viewer. Because of these concerns and anxieties surrounding the accuracy and readability of representations, even as Victorian discourse upheld the veracity and sanctity of the photographic "type," it simultaneously questioned and deconstructed its transparency and legitimacy. Significantly, it is precisely this paradoxical reliance upon and indeterminacy of the image that translates into the oral consumers' attempts to write meaning on their bodies. They work within existing representational frameworks to shift their meaning or to reveal their performative status. As a result, however, their statements can either be read as signs of conformity or as statements of resistance, depending on the observing audience. With the exception of "A Toy Princess," all of the children's texts examined in this thesis were published before the diagnosis of anorexia nervosa and other forms of disordered eating. I have discussed the various ways in which William Gull's document relies on previously  196  legitimized discourses - such as those of hysteria, moral insanity, and the photographic codes established by Hugh Welch Diamond - in order to establish its authenticity. Might it not also rely on these prior fictional representations of disordered eating? Such fictional precursors to the medical depiction of anorexia raise interesting if unanswerable questions concerning the interrelationship between the two forms of literature as well as the dialogue between representation and reality. Is it at all possible that medical discourse could diagnose anorexia precisely because fiction had already laid out the conceptual framework crucial to its understanding? While in certain instances, such as the imitation of Pre-Raphaelite dress, hairstyle and posture, one can identify how life imitates art, in this case such a relationship is much more murky and problematic. It also raises the question of what types of literature we privilege and accord the status of "truth," and whether such privileging is, in all cases, justified. "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup," for example, provides a "case study" of male anorexia that contradicts Gull's claim that the disease results from an innately feminine disposition. In so doing, it suggests that the illness must result from familial and social conditions rather than from a nervous or mental aberration. Moreover, the fact that "The Story of Augustus" is not only premedical but also pre-photographic provides further insight into the cultural production of anorexia nervosa. It would seem to indicate that the increase of the disease in females as opposed to males concurred with the invention of photography and the proliferation of photographic images. As photography, by introducing new ways of seeing and visualizing, instituted a cultural shift that had a direct impact on gender behaviour and representation, this cultural shift, in turn, impacted the gendering of oral consumption and related illnesses.  197  Works Cited  Acland, Theodor Dyke, ed. A Collection of the Published Writings of William Withey Gull: Memoirs and Addresses. 2 vols. London: The New Sydenham Society, 1894. A Faithful Relation of Ann Moore, ofTutbury, Staffordshire, who For Nearly Four Years, Has, and Still Continues, To Live without any Kind of Food, to which are added Reflections and Observations. Birmingham: R. Peart and Co., 1811. Alice in Wonderland. Written by Peter Barnes. Directed by Nick Willing. NBC, 1999. Allen & Hanbury's Food. Advertisement. The Graphic. January 2, 1886. 23. Armstrong, Nancy. Fiction in the Age of Photography: The Legacy of British Realism. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard UP, 1999. Auerbach, Nina and U.C. Knoepflmacher, eds. Forbidden Journeys: Fairy Tales and Fantasies by Victorian Women Writers. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1992. Bashford, Alison. Purity and Pollution: Gender, Embodiment and Victorian Medicine. London: Macmillan, 1998. Batchen, Geoffrey. Burning with Desire: the Conception of Photography. Cambridge: MIT Press, 1997. Battiscombe, Georgina. Christina Rossetti: A Divided Life. N. Y.: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1981. Bell, Mackenzie. Christina Rossetti: A Biographical and Critical Study. London: Hurst andBlackett, 1898. Benjamin, Walter. "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction." Illuminations: Essays and Reflections. Ed. Hannah Arendt. N.Y.: Schoken Books, 1968. 217-251. Bordo, Susan. "Anorexia Nervosa: Psychopathology as the Crystallization of Culture." Feminism and Foucault: Reflections on Resistance. Ed. Irene Diamond and LeeQuinby. Boston: Northeastern UP, 1988. 87-117. Bowlby, Rachel. Just Looking: Consumer Culture in Dreiser, Gissing and Zola. N.Y.: Methuen, 1985.  Braddon, Mary Elizabeth. Lady Audley's Secret. 1862. Ed. David Skelton. Oxford: Oxford U.P, 1998.  198  Bruch, Hilde. The Golden Cage: The Enigma of Anorexia Nervosa. N.Y.: Vintage, 1979. Brumberg, Joan Jacobs. Fasting Girls: The History of Anorexia Nervosa. N.Y.: Penguin Books, 1989. Buck-Morss, Susan. "The Flaneur, the Sandwichman and the Whore." New German Critique 39 (Fall 1986): 99-140. Burrows, George Man. Commentaries on Insanity. 1828. Madness and Morals: Ideas on Insanity in the Nineteenth Century. Ed. Vieda Skultans. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1975. 128-129. Butler, Judith. Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. N. Y.: Routledge, 1990. —. Bodies that Matter: On the Discursive Limits of Sex. N.Y.: Routledge, 1993. Campbell, Elizabeth. "Of Mothers and Merchants: Female Economics in Christina Rossetti's 'Goblin Market.'" Victorian Studies 33.3 (1990): 393-410. Carpenter, Mary Wilson. '"Eat me, drink, me, love me'": The Consumable Female Body in Christina Rossetti's Goblin Market." Victorian Poetry 29A (1991): 415-434. Carroll, Lewis. "A Photographer's Day Out." The South Shields Amateur Magazine. 1860. Lewis Carroll, Photographer. Ed. Helmut Gernsheim. Rev. ed. N.Y.: Dover, 1969. 122. —. Alice's Adventures Under Ground. 1864. Facsimile edition. London: Pavilion Books, 1985. —. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There. 1865 and 1872. Ed. Roger Lancelyn Green. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971. —. "Hiawatha's Photographing." Rhyme? And Reason? Illus. Arthur B. Frost. 1887. London: Macmillan, 1898. 66-77. —. "The Ladye's History." The Lewis Carroll Picture Book. Ed. Stuart Dodgson Collingwood. London: Collins'Clear-Type Press, 1899. 244-246.  —. The Diaries of Lewis Carroll. Ed. Roger Lancelyn Green. London: Cassell, 1953. —. The Annotated Alice. Ed. Martin Gardner. Hammondsworth: Penguin Books, 1970. Cohen, Morton N. Lewis Carroll: A Biography. N. Y.: Alfred A. Knopf, 1995.  199  Cohen, Paula Marantz. "Christina Rossetti's 'Goblin Market': A Paradigm for Nineteenth-Century Anorexia Nervosa." University of Hartford Studies in Literature 17.1 (1985): 1-18. Conolly, John. Treatment of the Insane Without Mechanical Restraints. 1856. London: Dawsons, 1964. —. "Case Studies from The Physiognomy of Insanity." 1858. The Face of Madness: Hugh W. Diamond and the Origin of Psychiatric Photography. Ed. Sander L. Gilman. NY.: Brunner/Mazel, 1976. 27-72. Coombes, Annie E. "Museums and the Formation of National and Cultural Identities." Oxford Art Journal. 11.2(1988): 57-68. Cowling, Mary. The Artist as Anthropologist: The Representation of Type and Character in Victorian Art. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1989. Crane, Walter. Pothooks and Perseverance: or the ABC Serpent. Marcus Ward & Co.: 1886. Crary, Jonathan. Techniques of the Observer: On Vision and Modernity in the Nineteenth Century. Cambridge, Mass: MIT Press, 1990. Darrah, William C. Cartes de Visite in Nineteenth Century Photography. Gettysburg: W.C. Darrah, 1981. De Morgan, Mary. "A Toy Princess." On a Pincushion and Other Fairy Tales. Ulus. William De Morgan. 1877. NY.: Garland Publishers, 1977. 153-176. Dickens, Charles. The Pickwick Papers. 1837. Ed. James Kincaid. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1998. —. Bleak House. 1853. Ed. George Ford and Sylvere Monod. NY.: Norton, 1977. Diamond, Hugh W. "On the Application of Photography to the Physiognomic and Mental Phenomena of Insanity." 1856. The Face of Madness: Hugh W. Diamond and the Origin of Psychiatric Photography. Ed. Sander L. Gilman. N.Y.: Brunner/Mazel, 1976. 19-24. Douglas, Mary. Purity and Danger: An Analysis of Pollution and Taboo. London: Routledge, 1966. Douglas, Mary. "Deciphering a Meal." Implicit Meanings: Essays in Anthropology. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1975. 249-275. Edel, Leon, ed. Henry James: Letters. Vol. 1. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard UP, 1974.  200  Edwards, Elizabeth. "Photographic 'Types': the Pursuit of a Method." Visual Anthropology 3.2-3 (1990): 235-257. Eliot, George. Adam Bede. 1859. Ed. Stephen Gill. London: Penguin Classics, 1985. —. The Mill on the Floss. 1860. Ed. Gordon S. Haight. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1998. Ell man, Maud. The Hunger Artists: Starving, Writing and Imprisonment. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard UP, 1993. Engen, Rodney . Kate Greenaway. N.Y.: Schoken, 1981. —. Sir John Tenniel: Alice's White Knight. Hants, England: Scolar Press, 1991. Flavell, Mortimer Lee. "Poor Little Body." The Peep of the Day; or, A series of the earliest religious instructions the infant mind is capable of receiving. London: T. Hatchard, 1858. 3-5. Flint, Kate. The Victorians and the Visual Imagination. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2000. Foucault, Michel. "The Discourse on Language." The Archaeology of Knowledge; and, The Discourse on Language. Trans. Alan Sheridan. N.Y.: Pantheon Books, 1972. 215-237. —. Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. Trans. Alan Sheridan. N.Y.: Vintage Books, 1977. —. "Power and Strategies." Power/Knowledge; Selected Interviews and Other Writings, 1972-1977. Ed. Colin Gordon. N.Y.: Pantheon Books, 1980. 134-145. —. "The Politics of Health in the 18th Century." Power/Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other Writings, 1972-1977. Ed. Colin Gordon. N.Y.: Pantheon Books, 1980. 166-182. —. The History of Sexuality, vol. 1: An Introduction. Trans. Robert Hurley. N.Y.: Vintage, 1990. Gascoigne, Bamber. How to Identify Prints: A complete guide to manual and mechanical processes from woodcut to ink jet. London: Thames and Hudson, 1986. Gaskell, Elizabeth. Wives and Daughters. 1866. Ed. Pam Morris. London: Penguin Classics, 1996. Gernsheim, Helmut. Lewis Carroll, Photographer. Rev. ed. N.Y.: Dover, 1969. Gerrish Nunn, Pamela. Problem Pictures: Women and Men in Victorian Painting. Hants, England: Scolar Press, 1995.  201  Gilman, Sander. "Hugh W. Diamond and Psychiatric Photography." The Face of Madness: Hugh W. Diamond and the Origin of Psychiatric Photography. Ed. Sander L. Gilman. N.Y.: Brunner/Mazel, 1976. 5-17. —. Seeing the Insane. N.Y.: John Wiley & Sons, 1982. —. Disease and Representation. London: Cornell U.P., 1988. Gorham, Deborah. The Victorian Girl and the Feminine Ideal. London: Croom Helm, 1982. Gull, William Withey. "Clinical Observation in Relation to Medicine in Modern Times." 1868. A Collection of the Published Writings of William Withey Gull: Memoirs and Addresses. Ed. Theodor Dyke Acland. Vol.2. 36-59. —. The Harveian Oration. Delivered at the Royal College of Physicians, London, June 24,1870. London: Churchill and Sons, 1870. —. "Address as President of the Clinical Society, 1871." 1871. A Collection of the PublishedWritings of William Withey Gull. Ed. Theodor Acland. Vol. 2. London: The New Sydenham Society, 1894. 82-90. —. "Address as President of the Clinical Society, 1872." 1872. A Collection of the PublishedWritings of William Withey Gull. Ed. Theodor Acland. Vol. 2. London: The New Sydenham Society, 1894. 9-106. —. "On the Study of Medicine, An Address Delivered at Guy's Hospital, October 1874." 1874. A Collection of the Published Writings of William Withey Gull. Ed. Theodor Acland. Vol. 2. London: The New Sydenham Society, 1894. 107-126. —. "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)." Transactions of the Clinical Society of London 7 (1874): 22-28. —. "Anorexia Nervosa." The Lancet. March 17, 1888: 516-517. —. "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)." Transactions of the Clinical Society of London 7(1874). A Collection of the Published Writings of William Withey Gull. Ed. Theodor Acland. Vol.1. London: The New Sydenham Society, 1894. 305-314. Gunning, Tom. "Tracing the Individual Body: Photography, Detectives, and Early Cinema." Cinema and the Invention of Modern Life. Ed. Leo Charney and Vanessa R. Schwartz. Berkeley: U of California P, 1995. 15-45. Harland, Marion. Eve's Daughters; or, Common Sense for Maid, Wife and Mother. 1885. Farmingdale,NY.: 1978. Hancher, Michael. The Tenniel Illustrations to the "Alice Books. " Athens: Ohio State  202  UP, 1985. Harrison, Fraser. The Dark Angel: Aspects of Victorian Sexuality. London: Sheldon Press, 1977. Haweis, Mrs. H.R. The Art of Beauty. 1878. 2 nd ed. London: Chatto and Windus, 1883. Heathcote, Bernard V. and Pauline F. "The Custodial Photograph." Shadow and Substance: Essays on the History of Photography. Ed. Kathleen Collins. Michigan: The Amorphous Institute Press, 1990. 115-117. Helsinger, Elizabeth K. "Consumer Power and the Utopia of Desire: Christina Rossetti's 'Goblin Market.'" ELH 58.4 (1991): 903-933. Heyert, Elizabeth. The Glass House Years, Victorian Portrait Photography 1839-1870. London: Allanheld and Schram, 1979. Hoffmann, Heinrich. "Story of Augustus." The English Struwwelpeter - Illustrated After Dr. Heinrich Hoffmann's Original Designs. The Little Ones' Library. No. 15. London: Dean & Son, Ltd, 1906. 21-22. —. "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup." The English Struwwelpeter or Pretty Stories and Funny Pictures. 1845. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1952. 17. —. "The Story of Cruel Frederick." Struwwelpeter. Online. 19th Century German Stories. http://www.vcu. edu/hasweb/for/struwwel/friedriche.htm 1. Holt, Terrence. '"Men sell not such in any town': Exchange in 'Goblin Market.'" Victorian Poetry 21.8 (1990): 51-67. Janeway, James. A Token For Children. Boston: Z. Fowle, 1771. Jenks, Chris. "Watching Your Step: The History and Practice of the Flaneur." Visual Culture. Ed. Chris Jenks. London: Routledge, 1995. 142-160. Kern, Stephen. "Explosive Intimacy: Psychodynamics of the Victorian Family." History of Childhood Quarterly. Winter, 1974: 437-461. Kowaleski-Wallace, Elizabeth. Consuming Subjects: Women, Shopping and Business in the Eighteenth Century. N.Y.: Columbia UP, 1997. Kristeva, Julia. Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection. Trans. Leon S. Roudiez. N.Y.: Columbia UP, 1982. Lalvani, Suren. Photography, Vision and the Production of Modern Bodies. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1996. Lasegue, Charles. "On Hysterical Anorexia." Medical Times and Gazette. September  203  6, 1873: 265-266 and September 27, 1873: 367-369. Translated from the original French, published in Archives generates de Medecine. April 1873. Mancoff, Debra N. Jane Morris: the Pre-Raphaelite Model of Beauty. Essex: Pomegranate, 2000. Mann, R.J. Domestic Economy and Household Science. London: Edward Stanford, 1878. Marsh, Jan. Christina Rossetti: a Literary Biography. London: Jonathan Cape, 1994. Marsh, Jan and Pamela Gerrish Nunn. Women Artists and the Pre-Raphaelite Movement. London: Virago Press, 1989. Maxwell, Catherine. "Tasting the 'Fruit Forbidden': Gender, Intertextuality, and Christina Rossetti's 'Goblin Market.'" The Culture of Christina Rossetti: Female Poetics and Victorian Contexts. Ed. Mary Arseneau, Anthony H. Harrison and Lorraine Janzen Kooistra. Athens: Ohio UP. 75-102. McCauley, Elizabeth Anne. A.E. Disderi and the Carte de Visite Portrait Photograph. New Haven: Yale UP, 1985. McClintock, Anne. Imperial Leather: Race, Gender and Sexuality in the Colonial Contest. N.Y.:Routledge, 1995. Menke, Richard. "The Political Economy of Fruit: Goblin Market." The Culture of Christina Rossetti: Female Poetics and Victorian Contexts. Ed. Mary Arseneau, Anthony H. Harrison and Lorraine Janzen Kooistra. Athens: Ohio UP. 105-136. Meyer, Susan E. A Treasury of the Great Children's Book Illustrators. N.Y.: Harry N. Abrams, Inc., Publishers, 1997. Michie, Helena. The Flesh Made Word: Female Figures and Women's Bodies. Oxford: Oxford U.P., 1987. Mill, John Stuart. The Subjection of Women. 1869. Ed. Susan M. Okin. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 1988. Mitchell, Timothy. "Orientalism and the Exhibitionary Order." Colonialism and Culture. Ed. Nicholas B. Dirks. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1992. 289317. Nead, Lynda. Myths of Sexuality: Representations of Women in Victorian Britain. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1988. Orr, Clarissa Campbell. "Women in the Victorian Art World." Women in the Victorian Art World. Ed. Clarissa Campbell Orr. Manchester: Manchester UP, 1995. 1-30. Packer, Lona Mosk, ed. The Rossetti-Macmillan Letters. Berkeley: University of  204  California Press, 1963. Paget, Violet. Vernon Lee's Letters. Ed. Irene Cooper. London: Privately Printed, 1937. Patmore, Coventry. "The Angel in the House." http://www. rothpoem/dukckdp. html. Rossetti, Christina. "The Dead City." 1847. The Poetical Works of Christina Georgina Rossetti. Ed. William Michael Rossetti. London: Macmillan, 1906. 99-103. —. "TheP.R.B." 1853. The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti. Vol.3. Ed. Rebecca Crump. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State UP, 1979. 332. —. "TheP.R.B." 1853. The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti. Vol.3. Ed. Rebecca Crump. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State UP, 1979. 223. —. "In an Artist's Studio." 1856. The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti. Vol. 3. Ed. Rebecca Crump. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State UP, 1979. 264. —. "Goblin Market." 1862. The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti. Vol.1. Ed. Rebecca Crump. Baton Rouge, Louisiana: Lousiana State UP, 1979. 11-26. —. The Prince's Progress and Other Poems. London: Macmillan, 1866. —. Commonplace and Other Short Stories. London: F.S. Ellis, 1870. —. Sing-song: A Nursery Rhyme Book. London: George Routledge and Sons, 1872. —. Speaking Likenesses. London: Macmillan, 1874. Rossetti, William Michael. Ruskin, Rossetti, Preraphaelitism: Papers 1854 to 1862. London: George Allen, 1899. —. "Introduction." The Germ, the 1901 Facsimile Reprint. Ed. William Michael Rossetti. London: Elliot Stock, 1901. The Complete Writings and Pictures of Dante Gabriel Rossetti: A Hypermedia Research Archive. Ed. Jerome J. McGann http://iefferson.village.virginia.edu:2020/. —. The Poetical Works of Christina Georgina Rossetti, with Memoir and Notes etc. by William Michael Rossetti. London: Macmillan, 1906. —. "Memoir." The Poetical Works of Christina Georgina Rossetti. London: Macmillan and Co., 1914. xlv-lxxi. —. The Diary of William Michael Rossetti 1870-1873. Ed. Odette Bornand. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977. Ruskin, John. "Of Queens'Gardens." Sesame and Lilies. 8th ed. 1867. Kent: George Allen, 1887.  205  Saisselin, Remy G. The Bourgeois and the Bibelot. New Brunswick: Rutgers UP, 1984. Savage, George Henry and Edwin Goodall. Insanity and Allied Neuroses. 4 ed. London: Cassell, 1907. Savelsberg, Joachim J. "Struwwelpeter at One Hundred and Fifty: Norms, Control, and Discipline in the Civilizing Process." The Lion and the Unicorn. 20.2 (1996): 181-200. Scarry, Elaine. The Body in Pain: The Making and Unmaking of the World. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1985. Schiebinger, Londa. "Skeletons in the Closet: The First Illustrations of the Female Skeleton in Eighteenth-Century Anatomy." The Making of the Modern Body: Sexuality and Society in the Nineteenth Century. Ed. Catherine Gallagher and Thomas Laqueur. Berkeley: U of California P, 1987. 42-83. Schwartz, Hi 1 lei. Never Satisfied: A Cultural History of Diets, Fantasies and Fat. N.Y.: The Free Press, 1986. Sekula, Alan. "The Body and the Archive." October. 39 (Winter 1986): 3-64. Shaw, George Bernard. Morris As I Knew Him. London: William Morris Society, 1966. Sherwood, Mrs. The History of the Fairchild Family; or, the Child's Manual: Being a Collection of Stories Calculated to Shew the Importance and Effects of a Religious Education. London: J. Hatchard, 1818. Showaiter, Elaine. "Victorian Women and Insanity." Madhouses, Mad-Doctors, and Madmen: The Social History of Psychiatry in the Victorian Era. Ed. Andrew Scull. Philadelphia: Philadelphia UP, 1981. 313-336. —. The Female Malady: Women, Madness and English Culture, 18301980. N.Y.: Pantheon Books, 1985. Shuttleworth, Sally. "Female Circulation: Medical Discourse and Popular Advertising in the Mid-Victorian Era." Body/Politics: Women and the Discourses of Science. Ed. Mary Jacobus, Evelyn Fox Keller and Sally Shuttleworth. N.Y.: Routledge, 1990. 4768. —. Charlotte Bronte and Victorian Psychology. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1996. Smith, Alison. The Victorian Nude: Sexuality, Morality and Art. Manchester: Manchester UP, 1996. Smulders, Sharon. Christina Rossetti Revisited. N.Y.: Twayne Publishers, 1996. Stern, Jeffrey. "Lewis Carroll the Pre-Raphaelite 'Fainting in Coils.'" Lewis Carroll Observed: A Collection of Unpublished Photographs, Drawings, Poetry and New  206  Essays. Ed. Edward Guiliano. N.Y.: ClarksonN. Potter, Inc., 1976. 161-180. Stirling, A.M.W. William de Morgan and His Wife. London: Thornton, Butterworth Limited, 1922. Tagg, John. "The Currency of the Photograph." Thinking Photography. Ed Victor Burgin. London: Macmillan, 1982. 110-229. —. The Burden of Representation: Essays on Photographies and Histories. Minneapolis: U of Minnesota P, 1993. Tennyson, Alfred. "The Lady of Shalott." 1842. The Camelot Project. http://www.lib.rochester.edu/camelot/shalcomb.htm. —. Poems by Alfred Tennyson, D.C.L. London: Edward Moxon, 1857. The Bazar Book of Decorum. N.Y.: Harper & Brothers, 1871. "The Scrap Album: Victorian Greeting Cards, Valentines and Scraps." http://www. scrapalbum. com. "The Two Ideals." Punch. September 13th, 1879. 120. Thomas, Ronald R. "Making Darkness Visible: Capturing the Criminal and Observing The Law in Victorian Detective Fiction." Victorian Literature and the Victorian Visual Imagination. Ed. Carol T. Christ and John O. Jordan. Berkeley: U of California P, 1995. 134-168. Thompson, Deborah Ann. "Anorexia as a Lived Trope: Christina Rossetti's 'Goblin Market.'" Mosaic: A Journal of Interdisciplinary Literature 24.3-4 (1991): 89-106. Walker Bynum, Caroline. "Fast, Feast, and Flesh: The Religious Significance of Food to Medieval Women." Representations 11 (1985): 1-25. —. Holy Feast and Holy Fast: Food Motifs in the Piety of Medieval Women. Berkeley: U of California P, 1987. Wiesenthal, Chris. Figuring Madness in Nineteenth-Century Fiction. London: Macmillan, 1997. Wilde, Oscar. "The Decay of Lying." Literary Criticism of Oscar Wilde. Ed. Stanley Weintraub. Lincoln: U of Nebraska P, 1968. 165-196. Wood, Ann Douglas. " 'The Fashionable Diseases': Women's Complaints and their Treatment in Nineteenth Century America." Journal of Interdisciplinary History 4.1 (Summer 1973): 25-52. Wynter, Andrew. "The Constraints of the Female Role." The Borderlands of Insanity.  207  1875. Madness and Morals: Ideas on Insanity in the Nineteenth Century. Ed. Vieda Skultans. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975. 236-237. Zipes, Jack. "Introduction." The Lion and the Unicorn. 20.2 (1996): v-vi.  208  Figure 1 Oscar Gustave Rej lander. Study of a Young Lady. ca. 1860-1865. Early Photography. By Patrick Daniels. London: Academy Editions, 1978. 52.  Figure 2 M.L. Prompt (Albi). Family portrait, carte-de-visite. ca. 1865. A.A.E. Disderi and the Carte-de-Visite Portrait Photograph. By Elizabeth Anne McCauley. New Haven: Yale U.P., 1985. Plate 108.  . . --  Y  Figure 3 H. Kisch. African Man. ca. 1875. The Album of Carte-de-Visite Cabinet Portrait Photographs 1854-1914. By Oliver Matthews. London: Reedminster Publications, Ltd., Plate 120.  Figure 4 Thomas Nixon. Chimney Sweep, ca. 187'5. The Album of Carte-de-Visite Cabinet Portrait Photographs 1854-1914. By Oliver Matthews. London: Reedminster Publications, Ltd., 1974. Plate 128.  210  Figure 5 R.T. Sperry. An Unwilling Subject. Photographing a Prisoner for the Rogue's Gallery at Police Headquarters. 1892. Darkness and Daylight, or Light and Shadows of New York Life. Illustrated By Over 250 Engravings From Photographs. By Helen Campbell. Hartford, Connecticut: AD. Worthington and Co., 1900. 691.  211  Figure 6 Photograph of Edward Wood, aged fourteen, before and after admission to Thomas Barnardo's Home for Destitute Lads. 1873. Barnardo. By Gillian Wagner. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1979. Plate 7.  E . E . J. M. Home for Working & Destitute Lads.  „•* '. ,' •-  ONCE » UTTIB. /AOffANT :"ir i W ft4 em utrrf Si'. 28. )  E . E . J . M. Home for Working & Destitute Lads.  *'e  28.  NOW  A LITTLE  WORKMAN  i I >if (itue />i</ tlf .'» • ar<t S'f>.  27.)  Figure 7 Two cartes-de-visites from a series published by Dr. Barnardo's East End Juvenile Mission, ca. 1874. Victorian Photography. By B.E.C. Howarth-Loomes. N.Y.: St. Martin's Press, 1974. 85.  212  I •ar.'Jpi m  tx  I Figure 8  Dr. Hugh Welch Diamond. Puerperal Mania in Four Stages. 1858. Case Studies from the Physiognomy of Insanity. By John Conolly. Plate 14. The Face of Madness: Hugh W. Diamond and the Origin of Psychiatric Photography. Ed. Sander L. Gilman. NY.: Brunner/Mazel, Publishers, 1976.  &SSMO0UX,ofTiifl«ji75t«ffi»Ma««JDmT>l7Bl.v*»'K«*Tirp«l  Figure 9  wiflxwrt Knr.3, sinee .ThWXlftOJ  ^«« Moore, ofTutbury Staffordshire. Born 1761. Who has lived without Food, since July 17. 1807. 1811. A Faithful Relation of Ann Moore ofTutbury, Staffordshire, Who For Nearly Four Years, Has, and Still Continues, To Live without any Kind of Food, to Which are Added, Reflections and Observations. 4th ed. Birmingham: R. Peart and Co., 1811.  213  Figure 10 Apple Sauce, For my Valentine, n.d. The Scrap Album: Victorian Greeting Cards, Valentines and Scraps. Online, http:// www.scrapalbum. com/ vxhome.htm.  HI  I ,....„  I I  ,  '  .,.,  .rn,,,,.,,,,,,^,,^^.,,,^.^!  Figure 11 Christmas Card. n.d. The Scrap Album: Victorian Greeting Cards, Valentines and Scraps. Online, http://www.scrapalbum.com/vxhome.htm.  214  Miss A.  >"i. l.  Figure 12 Miss A., No. 1 and Miss A., No. 2. William Gull. "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)." Transactions of the Clinical Society of London 7 (1874). 22-28. 22.  Miss B.  NO. 1.  Figure 13 Miss B., No. 1 and Miss B., No. 2. William Gull. "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)." Transactions of the Clinical Society of London 1 (1874). 22-28. 24.  215  W<v r.  x„  Figure 14 Miss C, TVo. 7 and Miss C, No. 2. William Gull. "Anorexia Nervosa (Apepsia Hysterica, Anorexia Hysterica)." Transactions of the Clinical Society of London 7 (1874). 22-28. 26.  216  Photographed April 21st, 1387.  Photographed J u n e 14th, 1387.  Figure 15 Miss K.R., Photographed April 21st, 1887 and Photographed June 14', 1887. William Gull. "Anorexia Nervosa." The Lancet. March 17, 1888: 516-517.  Plm(o!Pa].W April »l«t . I8fl;.  PIiot<. '...;.;.,•,! J u n e n t h .  Figure 16 Miss K.R., Photographed April 21st, 1887 and Photographed June 14th, 1887. William Gull. Transactions of the Clinical Society of London 7 (1874). A Collection of the Published Writings of William Withey Gull. Ed. Theodor Acland. Vol. 1. London: The New Sydenham Society, 1894. 305-314. 312-313.  217 THE TWO IDEALS.  =0  Figure 17 The Two Ideals. Punch, or The London Charivari. September 13, 1879. 120.  Figure 18 John Robert Parsons. Photographs of Jane Morris. 1865. Jane Morris: the Pre-Raphaelite Model of Beauty. By Debra N. Mancoff. Essex: Pomegranate, 2000. Plates 14-15.  218  Figure 19 William De Morgan. The Alchemist's Daughter, ca. 1870s. William de Morgan and His Wife. By A.M.W. Stirling. London: Thornton, Butterworth Limited, 1922. 85.  Figure 20 William De Morgan. The Toy Princess. 1877. "A Toy Princess." On a Pincushion and Other Fairy Tales. By Mary De Morgan. Illus. William De Morgan. 1877. N.Y.: Garland Publishers, 1977. 153-176.  219  7.  THE STORY OF AUGUSTUS WHO WOULD NOT HAVE ANY SOUP. Aag*ifctufi was a rhubl'} lad; Flit ruddy cheekfi Augustus liad; And every Ixjdy saw with juy The plump and hearty healthy boy. Ifc ate and dranlt a« an was told;, And never let hi& soup gist eeld. But one day, ene cold wister't; •lay. H<* SCTwim'd out — "Tate the j;oup away!! 0 lake tin* naat} -.<ni[i away! 1 won't have any soup to-day."  Ne.it day, now look, Of pieiwre td*ows How knk and lean Augwtns grows! Yet, though be feels so weak :ind ill, Tin- luugldy Fellow cries out still — '"Kot. tiny g$yj'p for mi1, I eay: 0 take the nasty sowp away; 1 wrm't. have any soiin In-day."  The third day eonies; Oil what a earn3 To make himseH fio pale and thin. Yet, when the so op is put t»ti table, He scream*, as loud as he is able, — "Not atty Konp for mo. I say: (i take the nasty sou]! awaj ' I ui'ii'i have any soup to-day."  l.M.ik at him, noiv the fourth day's come! lie scarcely weighs :t fcugar~plui»; Jfe'e like a little hit of thread. Ami mi the iifth <Iuy, he was - - dead!  ^s^^mmm Figure 21 Dr. Heinrich Hoffmann. "The Story of Augustus Who Would Not Have Any Soup/5 The English Struwwelpeter or Pretty Stories and Funny Pictures. 1845. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1952. 17.  220  fV  Figure 22 William Holman Hunt. The Lady of Shalott. 1857. Alfred Tennyson. Poems by Alfred Tennyson, D.C.L. London: Edward Moxon, 1857. Online. The Camelot Project, http://www.lib.rochester.edu/camelot/images/whhshalt.htm.  221  Figure 23 David Octavius Hill and Robert Adamson. The Gowan. ca. 1843-1847. An Early Victorian Album: The Photographic Masterpieces (1843-1847) of David Octavius Hill and Robert Adamson. Ed. Colin Ford. N.Y.: Alfred A. Knopf, 1976. 263.  Figure 24 David Octavius Hill and Robert Adamson. Sleeping Child-Miss Bell. ca. 18431847. An Early Victorian Album: The Photographic Masterpieces (1843-1847) of David Octavius Hill and Robert Adamson. Ed. Colin Ford. N.Y.: Alfred A. Knopf, 1976. 285.  222  Figure 25 Charles Dodgson. Irene MacDonald. 1863. Lewis Carroll, Photographer. By Helmut Gernsheim. Rev. ed. N.Y.: Dover, 1969. Plate 17.  Figure 26 Charles Dodgson. Alice P. Liddell (asleep). n.d. Lewis Carroll Album II. 37. Online. Princeton University Library, Department of Rare Books and Special Collections. Lewis Carroll Album, http://libserv3.princeton.edu rbsc2/portfolio/portfolio.html.  223  Figure 27 Charles Dodgson. Alice Margaret Harington (on sofa), n.d. Lewis Carroll Album II. 67. Online. Princeton University Library, Department of Rare Books and Special Collections. Lewis Carroll Album, http://libserv3.princeton.edu/rbsc2/portfolio/ portfolio.html.  Figure 28 Charles Dodgson. Mary Josephine MacDonald. n.d. Lewis Carroll Album II. 71. Online. Princeton University Library, Department of Rare Books and Special Collections. Lewis Carroll Album,  http.7/libserv3.princeton.edu/rbsc2/portfolio/portfolio.html.  224  i Figure 29 Charles Dodgson. Where Dreadful Fancies Dwell, n.d. Lewis Carroll Loose Photos. Online. Princeton University Library, Department of Rare Books and Special Collections. Lewis Carroll Album,  http://libserv3.princeton.edu/rbsc2/portfolio/portfolio.html.  Figure 30 Henry Peach Robinson. Sleep. 1865. Literature and Photography: Interactions, 1840-1990. Ed. JaneRabb. Albuquerque: U of New Mexico P, 1995. Plate 25.  225  Figure 31 Dante Gabriel Rossetti. The Lady ofShalott. 1857. Alfred Tennyson. Poems by Alfred Tennyson, D.C.L. London: Edward Moxon, 1857. Online. The Camelot Project, http://www.lib.rochester.edu/camelot/images/dgrshalt.htm.  Figure 32 Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Hermia and Helena ('So we grew together, like to a double cherry, seeming parted'). ca. 1846. Pen and ink illustration to A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act III, sc.ii. The Paintings and Drawings of Dante Gabriel Rossetti (18281882), a Catalogue Raisonne. Ed. Virginia Surtees. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1971. Plate 12.  226  Figure 33 Dante Gabriel Rossetti. The Sleeper, ca. 1846-1847. Pen and ink illustration to E.A. Poe's "The Sleeper." The Paintings and Drawings of Dante Gabriel Rossetti (18281882), a Catalogue Raisonne. Ed. Virginia Surtees. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1971. Plate 15.  ©  ®  GOBLIN MARKET and other poems by Cliriftma Rofletti  n  London a n d Cambridge MacmiUan a n d Co.i8€2. VQL  Figure 34 Dante Gabriel Rossetti. "Golden head by golden head." Title page design for Goblin Market and Other Poems. By Christina Rossetti. London: Macmillan 1862.  227  Figure 35 Miss Bompas being served tea in a studio set in Montreal. 1888. Time in a Frame: Photography and the Nineteenth Century Mind. By Alan Thomas. N. Y.: Shocken Books, 1977. 79.  Figure 36 John Tenniel. "Alice in train." Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There. By Lewis Carroll. 1865 and 1872. Ed. Roger Lancelyn Green. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971. 150.  228  Figure 37  Arthur B. Frost. Next to Him the Eldest Daughter. "Hiawatha's Photographing." Rhyme? And Reason? Illus. Arthur B. Frost. 1887 London: Macmillan, 1898. 6677. 73.  Figure 38 Arthur B. Frost. Last, the Youngest Son Was Taken. "Hiawatha's Photographing." Rhyme? And Reason? Illus. Arthur B. Frost. 1887 London: Macmillan, 1898. 6677. 75.  229  Figure 39 Charles Dodgson. Tea-merchant (on duty). ca. 1873. Lewis Carroll and the Kitchins: Containing Twenty-Five Letters Not Previously Published and Seventeen of his Photographs. Ed. Morton N. Cohen. N.Y.: Argosy Book Store, 1980. 9.  Figure 40 Charles Dodgson. Tea-merchant (off duty). ca. 1873. Lewis Carroll and the Kitchins: Containing Twenty-Five Letters Not Previously Published and Seventeen of his Photographs. Ed. Morton N. Cohen. N.Y.: Argosy Book Store, 1980. 10.  230  Jfc Vfe  Figure 41 Charles Dodgson. Liddells in Chinese Dress, n.d. Zeww Carroll Album III. 21. Online. Princeton University Library, Department of Rare Books and Special Collections. Lewis Carroll Album. http://libserv3.princeton.edu/ rbsc2/portfolio/portfolio.html.  Figure 42 Charles Dodgson. The Beggar-Maid. ca. late 1850s. Lewis Carroll Album II. 67. Online. Princeton University Library, Department of Rare Books and Special Collections. Lewis Carroll Album, http://libserv3.princeton.edu/ rbsc2/portfolio/portfolio.html.  231  Figure 43 Charles Dodgson. Coates. ca. 1857. Lewis Carroll, Photographer. Ed. Helmut Gernsheim. Rev. ed. N.Y.: Dover, 1969. Plate 4.  Figure 44 Oscar Gustave Rej lander. Study After Titian, ca. 1857. The Formative Decades: Photography in Great Britain, 1839-1920. By Roy Flukinger. Texas: U of Texas P, 1985. 61.  Figure 45 Charles Dodgson. Beatrice Hatch. 1873. Lewis Carroll's Photographs of Nude Children. Ed. Morton N. Cohen. Philadelphia: The Philip H. and A.S.W. Rosenbach Foundation, 1978. Plate 1.  Figure 46 Charles Dodgson. Evelyn Hatch. 1879. Lewis Carroll's Photographs of Nude Children. Ed. Morton N. Cohen. Philadelphia: The Philip H. and A.S.W. Rosenbach Foundation, 1978. Plate 2.  233  Figure 47 Charles Dodgson. Evelyn Hatch. 1879. Lewis Carroll's Photographs of Nude Children. Ed. Morton N. Cohen. Philadelphia: The Philip H. and A.S.W. Rosenbach Foundation, 1978. Plate 3.  Figure 48 Charles Dodgson. Annie and Frances Henderson, n.d. Lewis Carroll's Photographs of Nude Children. Ed. Morton N. Cohen. Philadelphia: The Philip H. and A.S.W. Rosenbach Foundation, 1978. Plate 4.  234  Figure 49 Frederic Leighton. Actea, Nymph of the Shore, ca. 1868. The Victorian Nude: Sexuality, Morality and Art. By Alison Smith. Manchester: Manchester UP, 1996. Plate 32.  Figure 50 Lewis Carroll. Good-bye feet! Alice's Adventures Under Ground. By Lewis Carroll. 1864. Facsimile edition. London: Pavilion Books, 1985. n.p.  235  Figure 51 Lewis Carroll. Drink Me. Alice's Adventures Under Ground. 1864. Facsimile edition. London: Pavilion Books, 1985. n.p.  Figure 52 Lewis Carroll. She went on growing and growing. Alice's Adventures Under Ground. By Lewis Carroll. 1864. Facsimile edition. London: Pavilion Books, 1985. n.p.  236  Figure 53 Lewis Carroll. Still she went on growing. Alice's Adventures Under Ground. By Lewis Carroll. 1864. Facsimile edition. London: Pavilion Books, 1985. n.p.  I-*- i  - U^l&&f# '^'•fpf  Figure 54 Lewis Carroll. She put one arm out of the window. Alice's Adventures Under Ground. By Lewis Carroll. 1864. Facsimile edition. London: Pavilion Books, 1985. n.p.  237  Figure 55 John Tenniel. Good-bye feet! Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There. By Lewis Carroll. 1865 and 1872. Ed. Roger Lancelyn Green. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971. 16.  Figure 56  John Tenniel. Still she went on growing. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There. By Lewis Carroll. 1865 and 1872. Ed. Roger Lancelyn Green. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971. 33.  Figure 57 John Tenniel. She put one arm out of the window. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There. By Lewis Carroll. 1865 and 1872. Ed. Roger Lancelyn Green. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971. 34.  

Cite

Citation Scheme:

        

Citations by CSL (citeproc-js)

Usage Statistics

Share