Monday, March 28, 2011
A Place to Hang Your Hat
According to Nan Enstad’s Ladies of Labor, commodities offered women an empowering “new range of representations, symbols, activities, and spaces with which to create class gender and ethnic identities.” Enstad attempts to disprove that a coherent subject is at the root of political action. Constantly citing Judith Butler, she argues that identity categories are necessarily based on exclusions that carry an inherent tyranny; for, “labels shape identities and experiences” – in the case of Enstad’s study, those oppressive classifications are “worker” and “woman.”
The attack on women’s popular culture activities by privileging representations of the “rational,” “serious girl striker” (both during the 19th century and in our modern historical narratives) undermines the critical process of shaping the female worker identity. “Working women’s version of ladyhood differed greatly from middle-class ideals: it challenged middle-class perceptions of labor as degrading to femininity and created a utopian language or entitlement rooted in workplace experiences.” Likewise, “Their style was not an imitation of middle class identity but an appropriation of a valued set of codes.” Through ready-made evening gowns, silk underwear, and “Peg O’ the Movies” the working-class women stood outside the dominant middle-class discourse of film and fashion and part-took in a culture of inherent resistance.
Liberal critic Thomas Frank has drawn a parallel between the emerging consensus of the 1980s “New Economy” and the widespread acceptance of commodity consumption as a means of asserting agency. Frank is dumbfounded by the absence of analysis of American business culture (the defining landscape of the 1990s), never mind dissent from the academy regarding corporate interests. He satirically writes, “Cultural Studies was teeming with stories of aesthetic hierarchies rudely overturned; with subversive mallwalkers dauntlessly using up the mall’s air-conditioning.” By casting the caricature of the “elitists” critic (unhappy with the shift toward cultural democracy, desperately clinging to the mass culture critique) as the villain, “cult studs” got in line with the myriad of journalists, politicians, and media monguls relentlessly celebrating the revolutionary power of popular culture. Cultural studies trademark language of audience agency and subversive text mirrored all too perfectly the anti-elitist, anti-hierarchical rhetoric pouring forth from the conservative populist movement and boardrooms alike. Ultimately, Thomas Frank charges the “cult studs” academic radicalism with being an indistinguishable hegemonic function of the market.
Of course, Frank is driven by the question that has motivated many of the cultural critics we have looked at this semester: What is the best way to subvert the system? How can we overturn unjust capitalism? This is where I see Enstand’s critique diverge. Her work is not propelled by the proposition of a radical new order. She represents a history of how a group achieves some freedom, some decency, and a place to hang their hats within the existing system. In this way, citing the desire for silk underwear as a distinct political act, a form of agency that operates outside bourgeois epistemology, mirrors the theoretical foundation and implicit ambition of Enstad’s project. “Thus silk underwear signaled the invisible interior ladyhood, similar to that promised by the dime novels, to which working women laid claim”(82). Enstad successfully marries politics and culture because of the way she defines political action. Acute policy change, a shifting of the cultural terrain to the interests of an oppressed group, dignity through identity formation, these are significant forms of political action to Enstad, and it seems that an investment in this kind of political action is best expressed through Cultural Studies.
Other thoughts:
-Veblen, can imitation can be radical?
-Ironically, Enstad priviledges a distinct female working class narrative. For example, in New York City at the end of the Civil War there were upwards of six hundred brothels. In 1846 a police source estimated the number of prostitutes in New York City to be 7,000 (10% of young females) while an alderman and minster source estimated the number to be 20,000 (28% of young girls). Regardless of the exact figure, these staggering official approximations indicate prostitution’s unavoidable physical and social presence. In 1855 tailor shops had the highest cash value, $7,592,696, of manufactured articles/goods in New York City. Tailor shops were followed by prostitution which brought in an estimated $6,350,760 in 1855. While prostitution did not involve the production of goods, it became a highly visible and exceptionally lucrative business.
Why is prostitution so clearly excluded from a historical narrative to which is belongs (even on page 28 the citation of the “Bowery Ghals” speaks to the significant presence of the brothel culture).
- Funny to see one of T.S. Eliots most significant arguments regarding culture, “cultural consumption without taste will lead to moral fall,” was originally championed by the indistinct body of middle class women.
-Dime novels about working class girl marrying millionaires, etc. seriously discredits Langland’s argument.
Working Class People as People
As I was reading Race Rebels, I was struck by the fact that it seems as though the author grew up in working class conditions, although I couldn't verify it. This seems important because he understands working class conditions because he lived them. As I was reading the introduction I was struck by this paragraph:
retail empowerment
Micro-politics of Resistance
Mystifying Oppression
In Nan Enstad’s Ladies of Labor, Girls of Adventure I really appreciate the way she moves from close readings of various representations (films, periodicals, clothing), to people’s interpretations at the time, to commenting on the general practices of these representations, grounding them in larger historical and theoretical contexts. Her analysis of the New York hat in the intro provides a good example of this. She emphasizes the importance of going beyond audience response in order to understand, “how products are shaped and imbued with meanings at various points of production and consumption” (12).
One of the conclusions Enstad reaches, that is of special interest to me, is when she states: “capitalist production mystified the labor process and presented commodities seemingly devoid of meanings stemming from production” (25). I don’t think this mystification could have happened without the proper ad campaign, and this came in the form of the “new middle-class women’s magazines of the 1840s” that “disseminated information about fashion and played a key role in the formation of new meanings of commodities” by obscuring the “classed nature of their [magazine’s] ideology” (25-6). This classed nature was replaced instead by taste and moral value (27). Here Enstad provides a very specific instance of a process that I have been grappling with: how injustices seem to disappear and then reappear in a neutralized form.
Contributing to Oppresion
Edwin
In the reading for this week Enstad puts forth an interesting argument concerning the radicalization of popular culture. Her focus on fashion in the beginning of the book was for me the more interesting part of the argument. Eliciting a movement of increasing egalitarianism and democratization and a moment of identity formation from fashion is a difficult argument to organize but Enstad puts forth her case well. However, there were a few issues I had with the fashion argument. Enstad argues that these women were working in factories, slaving over the very goods that at the same time were empowering them. They were working for companies that saw them as dispensable and at the end of the day, were returning their wages to them. This idea seems fairly counter-intuitive to me. Inside the factory, women worked under horrible conditions and were treated as insignificant, yet when they left the factory and bought the goods they were producing the become empowered? Whatever empowerment they felt from wearing clothes which helped establish their “ladyness,” pales when presented with the fact that they were contributing to a system which was oppressing them.
At the same time Enstad’s examples of cheap clothing as a crack in class walls seems feasible. One look at the business world and it is easy to observe how clothing can bring forth favorable judgment, no matter who is the wearer. On pages 26-29 Enstad gives examples of individuals who could no longer tell ones class by examining clothing. What I find difficult in this section of the argument, is that even through wearing middle class cloth one is still acknowledging that these distinctions matter. For me, this fact puts the rising democratization that Enstad was arguing in question. After all there was likely a large amount of women who could not afford to buy even these cheaper imitations of high class clothing. Those who could and did buy these imitations were contributing to these class distinctions which were still enforced on the fashionably less fortunate.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
The Politics of Loud Music
But I also found myself wondering what this revealed about those in power. That they like the quiet? That they want psychically foreclose upon the plight of huge numbers of African Americans in the U.S.? That they are secretly afraid of the power invoked by the music?
I also found myself thinking about what happens when these acts are appropriated by other groups? Is it a good thing that white teenagers perform the same acts or do they drain the acts of their viability?
Ladies of Labor, Race Rebels, and Fashion - Jennifer
Lady Gaga's of Labor
Enstad gives us a model of social activity that revises the traditional narrative (young Jewish socialists instigating labor strikes), while at the same time it appeals to common sense. Naturally, people have to work with the forms they have. While these narratives are not totally radical and were commercial products, these women adapted generic forms to their needs at the time. I'm glad that Enstad carefully avoids claims that popular culture and fashion radicalized these women, instead giving the women credit for using fashion and novels for radical means. In a way, she provides a great argument against Adorno's thoughts on consumer culture as a dehumanizing and dominating horror show that no one can resist. Enstad points out how popular culture can be used as a tool for many purposes.
Which leads me to a question that I've been thinking about: can we radicalize popular culture, or will we radicalize it only when the shit hits the fan? Working women at the turn of the century were already radicalized by the extreme exploitation they faced in the work place, which led to their use of popular culture as a model for strong behavior. What narratives and forms will be most productive in future political movements? Unfortunately, we have a lot fewer media representations of working class women comparable to working girl fiction. The closest might be strong female country singers (like Reba McEntire and Dolly Parton), but that still constitutes a niche market. But maybe, Lady Gaga will lead the revolution:
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Cotton...The Fabric of Our Lives
How do we define levels of class? In the twenty-first century, it seems that you can tell a lot about a person by the clothes they wear. Though some will not admit it, many people have pride in the “level” of store they shop in. Like the girl quoted at the beginning of Enstad’s first chapter, who wished to wear the Wanamaker label on the front of her clothing, people are proud of the labels they wear and carry. Yet this is not purely a modern phenomenon.
In her book, Ladies of Labor, Girls of Adventure, Nan Enstad is able to draw on the fashion trends and availabilities in order to garner a better understanding of the workingwoman. A large determinant of these distinctions was created by the industrialization of the garment industry, not simply through labor concerns, but clothing now available to many levels of society. Enstad writes, “with the implementation of the mechanized loom, the prices of all cloth, including fine cloth, dropped dramatically. This expanded the market of people who could afford tailor-made clothing.” (22)
The notion of fashion and class status is apparent in my own work for the semester with Gaskell’s North and South. When walking in the streets of her new home, Margaret reflects, “People thronged the footpaths, most of them well-dressed as regarded the material, but with a slovenly looseness which struck Margaret as different from the shabby, threadbare smartness of a similar class in London.” Although they would appear to be members of the same class, as an outside observer, Margaret sees differences in dress based on their geographical position.
The main labor dispute within the novel focuses around the cotton mills in the city of Milton. While discussing the industry on the train ride to their new home, Mrs. Hale exclaims, “but these factory people, who on earth wears cotton that can afford linen?” The question of “who wears cotton” pops up frequently within the novel and becomes a topic of contention between Mr. Thornton and Margaret. It comes down to Mr. Thornton to explain to her that mechanization, combined with the new abundant availability of cotton fabric meant that more people could afford new clothing. He is even one to point out that the industry sees great sales in the colonies and America, as the heat and number of industrial workers makes cheaper clothing a necessity.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Frick mansion tour of the "working class" aspect of the home
Monday, March 21, 2011
The Loss of a "Smoking Gun"
I was happy to see that Denning escaped this stifling trap.
Denning argues that the history of the dime novel is not merely a history of a culture industry, but a history of their place in working class culture and their distinct role in the struggle to reform that culture. As he convinced me through extensive research, “ workers made up the bulk of the dime novel public,” therefore “their concerns and accents are inscribed in cheap stories” (“concerns and accents” that can be determined through their allegorical inscription and an understanding of the working-class reading practice which involved consumption as well as interpretation). In other words, the 19th century American worker was not a victim of a culture industry rooted in capitalist self-interest and bourgeois hegemony. The dime novel was a “contested terrain, a field of cultural conflict where signs with wide appeal and resonance take on contradictory disguises and are spoken in contrary actions,” a place where the often divergent working-class attitudes found expression.
One of the arguments in Mechanic Accents that seems to reflect Denning’s larger theoretical investment is the explanation of the “fiction question,” “the debates, moral panics, and attempt to regulate production that marked the nineteenth-century reaction to the flood of cheap stories and the marked increase in working-class reading.” The fiction question and consequent reform of the dime novel is not a pure symptom of “the genteel” vs “the sensational” (the middle class vs the lower class). Denning argues that even the labor papers simultaneously critiqued and appropriated “trashy” fiction, indicating ambivalence on the part of working-class leaders regarding the emergence of this mass literary culture in the nineteenth century. In this way, the working and bourgeois classes shared in a fundamental dialogue: the relationship between culture and society.
Does the transformation and critical positioning of the dime novel in the wake of 1890 mark a silencing of the class conflicts of the gilded age? Through what mediums do today’s working class engage in discussions of culture and society?
-( Also, quite literally...)Denning possesses a “smoking gun” in the form of short life histories of 'undistinguished Americans' published in the The Independent that make references to dime fiction reading. Moreover, the autobiographies of immigrants, laborers, and factory workers – littered with insights regarding how the working class understood and interpreted sensational fiction – are explicit testaments to the relationship between culture and historical consciousness. Lucky Denning.
Public Libraries
Complex Representations
In looking at “genres and formulas,” not only within “an encyclopedic catalog” but “as enactments of social conflicts and cleavages,” Denning provides a useful tool to reveal the borrowed costumes of historical struggles and the disguised social and economic divisions, within “the conventional characters of a society, played out in its popular narratives” (Denning 77). For me this approach helps solve some of the issues I have with representations by keeping in mind the preformative aspect of representation. These issues stem from the difficulty brought on by the realization that these representations are not static or created in a vacuum, but created by other humans who are subject to inconstancy, or are unaware of the issues they represent, or who might even disagree with the representations they are creating.
In my analysis of texts I have often struggled with the process of extracting readings and merely converting the text into representations. Denning appears to offer a diagnosis for this uneasiness in the case of dime novels, which I think might be useful for all popular forms of representation: “The figures and characters one sees in dime novels are perhaps not the self-representation of any class, nor are they the class as represented by another; they are a body of representations that are alternately claimed, rejected, and fought over” (Denning 77).
For me this approach allows for possible solutions to the problems of representation that I have been struggling with. One of them is the problem with readership. For the most part it seems like close-readings and genre studies can often lend themselves to a very closed, and highly specialized interpretation of texts that only exist in an academic setting. For one of my own final projects I am considering a very specific film genre but in order for my analysis to have any kind of pertinence I feel like I need to take into account how people might perceive this genre and how they would be viewing these films. I think these aspects should be considered in order to avoid oversimplifying complex relationships, for these representations are “interpreted and not merely consumed” (Denning 69). While in the end it is impossible and unproductive to take every readers opinion into account, I think there should at the very least be an awareness in these kinds of analysis of what typical readers would take from these representations, in order to keep the analysis in check.
Guilty Pleasures for the Masses
true stories...or unsolved mysteries?
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Little Orphan Annie Oakley
I know this is totally outside of the scope of the book, but I would have loved to see how these narratives have evolved and continue to impact present media tales. Denning writes that evaluating the past "represent the engagement of the present with the past, the construction and appropriation of a period with its generic and aesthetic systems" (207). Many of the stories that Denning references seem to have a great deal of resonance after 1900, such as the figure of Little Orphan Annie, which revived the figure of the honest, hardworking orphan girl who suddenly falls into wealth. Begun in 1924, the story evolved into Broadway productions, television shows and film adaptations. Additionally, I see resonances of the western outlaw in current action heroes and heroines. The detective story continues to be a popular format, reincarnated in the urban police drama, like SVU. It would be interesting to see whether or not these genre adaptations and evolutions carry similar class distinctions as their dime novel predecessors, of if they have been appropriated into capitalist discourse. These technologies continue to be used, but does Little Orphan Annie still carry the politics of working girl narratives? Does Buffy the Vampire Slayer carry the radical anti-establishment implications of Annie Oakley? And what does it mean when these narratives are combined into the pastiche of post-modernity? For example, Scooby-Doo's mystery solving teens don't seem to carry the same weight as Pinkerton detectives.
The Fifteen Dollar Dime Novel or the Sensational Imaginary Community
Something else struck me during and after reading Denning for this week. Did dime novels participate in the sort of nation constructing that Benedict Anderson sees advances in print-language causing? Denning does observe that dime novels could be moralistic and in some cases didactic. Were they used to some extent to inculcate immigrant workers with practices and values considered American at the time? And in doing so, did they ever have contradictory effects: like making a laborer, immigrant or not, see stated American democratic values not actually put into social practice?
What Exactly Is Sensation Fiction? - Jennifer
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Dime Novel Theater
Rachael
I find it quite interesting that Denning can find a connection between the proliferation of the dime novel and the stratification of American theater, in both literal and metaphorical tendencies. Some plots were taken from theatrical performances and remediated into the serial form, which alluded to a common ground between the audiences of the two forms. Denning uses this serialization process to open the question of class-consciousness to further theatrical embodiment: “after 1850, the melodrama and the dime novel increasingly found a predominantly working class audience. Moreover, the narrativization of stage productions indicates a new mode or character in the reading of dime novels and story papers; reading became a way of preserving and recapturing a public moment or a favorite performance.” (25) Denning also points to the Astor Place Riot as a touchstone for the end of a “theater that united different classes.”
There are several theories as to the cause of the riots on May 10, 1849, including causes linked to class distinctions. Up to this point in the nineteenth century, the theater had been a place where all levels of class could come together to enjoy a performance. There were usually several aspects of a night’s performance: a tragedy, comedy or farce, and musical interludes. There was then always something to satisfy different tastes. Trouble began with the construction of the Astor Place Opera House, an exclusive upper-class facility in a predominantly lower-class neighborhood, the Bowery. The riot, which left 20 people dead and over a hundred injured, was said to be the “beginning of the end of theater in the United States as a conglomerate entertainment for a heterogeneous audience. ‘The Astor Place Riot intimated that this union was no longer possible,’ writes theater historian David Grimsted. ‘The country had grown up, and grown apart. The theater after midcentury followed this development. It expanded and divided – into legitimate drama, foreign-language, farce, vaudeville, circus, burlesque, minstrelsy, opera, symphony – each with its separate theater and separate audience.’” (Stempel, Showtime, 33) It was these divisions, a fine-tuning of cultural entertainment, which created a niche for the dime novel and its audience.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Langland's Domestic Angles
Chase But Don't Discover What Matters
Michael
From what I have read in Elizabeth Langland’s Nobody’s Angels, it would appear that she agrees with the Habermasian notion that, “although there may have been a desire to perceive the sphere of the family circle as independent, as cut off from all connection with society, and as the domain of pure humanity, it was, of course, dependent on the sphere of labor and of the commodity exchange” (Public Sphere 46). I think this justifies a need to place an equal importance on “networks of representations” as is placed on “financial resources,” as Langland states: “My perspective emphasizes the close imbrications of economic conditions with cultural constructions, where financial resources cannot position individuals more irrevocably than do the networks of representations through which they negotiate their daily lives” (7). I think this move provides a useful way to approach class problems in our current society where there is a heavy emphasis on suppressing issues of poverty, out of sight out of mind. I think that there is a definite conditioning process that encourages us to think that poverty only happens in third world countries. This conveniently lets us ignore our civic responsibilities at home, allowing us to believe in the principles of dog-eat-dog competition in order to dissuade a questioning of the system’s core values.
I think in our time visual representations work just like the placement of kitchens and dinning rooms, and the maids invisible chamber cleanings that characterize the Victorian Age: “Like kitchen odors, bodily evidences were not to intrude upon refined senses” (44). In my project I would like to look at visual representations to discover how “plots are informed by a culture’s ideologies, its assessment of value and meaning and possibility” (4).
Right now a Chase commercial (I think, I’m going off memory here) comes to mind, where there is a black couple expecting a baby. After the couple purchases baby gear they realize they need to get more because they are expecting triplets. When most people might walk away from this commercial feeling a progressive sense of pride that an attractive, middle class, black couple is being represented on television, I of course have a different take: “Oh great, now black people are being actively encouraged to drown in debt as well.” In an astoundingly subtle way, this commercial trivializes both representations of black people and our nations economic problems.
However, I am willing to admit that the real problem with popular visual representations is not this literal translation that I bring out, but the general subconscious acceptance of credit card companies. It is because they are visually represented everywhere that they can blend in with the landscape, or as Langland says about representations: “Such signifying practices, then, formulate, transmit, and reproduce the ideologies of a culture through the production of subjects. This is the process through which particular and local beliefs of a group become naturalized as truth” (4). Yet what is at risk in these truths? What problems do these truths purposely conceal?
living with the better chromosome...just kidding
i always get a bit annoyed every time i read that women represent society, are the "evolving signifiers of bourgeois identity" (25). and this is something i've heard again and again, not only in Victorian texts, but in my global women's writing course, where we've so far studied the veil (women cannot take off the veil or society will collapse, but men can change the way they dress without catastrophic results), besides many other contexts.
WHY do women always, always "uphold" civilization, but men are never held responsible? is it because we like the beds to be made in the morning? is it because we buy healthy food for the pantry, instead of just meat? just how far back did this history begin?
now i don't want to be judgmental here, but it has come to my attention that the Y chromosome has essentially not evolved since humans first arrived as a species, while the X chromosome has evolved continuously over the centuries. observe the difference:

Women's Roles as Wives
Performative Status Edwin
In the beginning of this week’s reading Langland frequently mentions status as a performative task by the middle class women of Victorian England. This argument initially jumped out at me because of the previous reading we did, Veblen’s Theory of the Leisure Class. Both argue that various responsibilities were placed upon women in order to portray a vision of high status to their peers. Veblen spoke of clothing, and Langland appeared to be very interested in the etiquette of women in this period. In both of these discussions of status as performative, I continually wondered whether women in the Victorian era willingly accepted these new responsibilities. Although it must have been gradual in its implementation, this task must have been met by some with confusion or even revulsion.
In thinking of the possibility of discordant Victorian women, Virginia Woolf’s Moments of Being comes to mind. In one of the autobiographical essays in that collection, she contemplates the reasons for her past duties as a Victorian woman. She laments the dresses, the parties, the awkwardness, the forced demureness, and the various other trappings that turned her into a trophy several nights a month. Yet, she understands that none of it was for her, it was for her brother who would routinely beg her to come to those stifling functions. Woolf’s brother in many ways proves Langland’s and Veblen’s point that women were relied on to be the face of status. I find it ironic that in a period that was in many ways patriarchal, women were needed in such a way. They acted as pedestals on which their male counterparts stood, in order to elevate them to required social propriety.