Gothic Incest

i Gothic incest u ii iii Gothic incest Gender, sexuality and transgression Jenny DiPlacidi Manchester University Press iv Copyright © Jenny DiPlacidi 2018 The right of Jenny DiPlacidi to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. Published by Manchester University Press Altrincham Street, Manchester M1 7JA www.manchesteruniversitypress.co.uk British Library Cataloguing- in- Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN 978 1 7849 9306 1 hardback ISBN 978 1 5261 0755 8 open access First published 2018 This electronic version has been made freely available under a Creative Commons (CC-BY-NC-ND) licence. A copy of the licence can be viewed at https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/ The publisher has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for any external or third- party internet websites referred to in this book, and does not guarantee that any content on such websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate. Typeset by Out of House Publishing v Contents u Acknowledgements page vii Introduction: disrupting the critical genealogy of the Gothic 1 1 ‘Unimaginable sensations’: father– daughter incest and the economics of exchange 34 2 ‘My more than sister’: re- examining paradigms of sibling incest 85 3 Uncles and nieces: thefts, violence and sexual threats 139 4 More than just kissing: cousins and the changing status of family 190 5 Queer mothers: female sexual agency and male victims 246 Coda: incest and beyond 277 Bibliography 283 Index 300 v vi vii Acknowledgements u The genealogy of this book is, like those of the books discussed in the pages that follow, an unruly one of overlapping origins and intersecting concerns. I am indebted to my father, whose passion for history insists on the relevance of the past to contemporary politics, laws and culture; to my mother, who taught me always to question established wisdom; and most of all to my brother, who long ago determined my focus on the marginalized. I would like to thank in particular Jennie Batchelor, in whom I have been lucky enough to find a colleague at once challenging, insightful, encouraging and inspirational and who unfailingly and gener- ously gave (and continues to give) of her time and guidance. Without her invaluable and constant support and friendship this project would not have been possible. I would like to thank Donna Landry for spurring me to new lines of enquiry in my research, providing many valuable conversations, being an ever- encouraging and astute critic and not least of all for reading and commenting upon the manuscript in various drafts. I am grateful to the many colleagues and friends whose insights and time have strengthened this book, particularly Vybarr Cregan- Reid, Marie Mulvey- Roberts, Karl Leydecker, Gillian Dow, Phil Stevenson, Sarah Horgan, Petr Barta, Monica Mattfeld, Steve Martin, Manushag Powell, Koenraad Claes, Peter Brown, Cathy Waters, Robert Maidens, Kat Peddie, Barbara Franchi and Declan Wiffen. The wonderful staff at the University of Kent have been a constant source of help and I offer thanks to Megan Barrett, Gemma Vaughan, Faith Phoenix, Anna Redmond, Andrea Griffith, Claire Lyons, Helena Torres and Emma Bainbridge. The institutional support that has been crucial to my research must be acknowledged; through the University of Kent I have received funding vii newgenprepdf viii Acknowledgements that has facilitated my research at various libraries and participation in academic conferences and the award of a Chawton House Library fel- lowship enabled my work on manuscripts and texts that have been vital to my research. I would like to thank the editorial team at Manchester University Press, and particularly Matthew Frost, who have provided guidance and help during the publication process. Throughout the writing of this book I have been supported by the best of friends and colleagues, Kim Simpson and Victoria Bennett. Without their strength and insight that, to paraphrase Margaret Atwood, taught me to steer through darkness by no stars, I could not have written this book and it is to them that I dedicate this work. viii 1 Introduction: disrupting the critical genealogy of the Gothic u Dreadful was the whole! truly dreadful! A story of so much horror, from atrocious and voluntary guilt never did I hear! Mrs. Smelt and myself heartily regretted that it had come in our way, and mutually agreed that we felt our- selves ill- used in ever having heard it. Frances Burney (1786)1 We do not pretend to give this novel as one of the first order, or even of the second; it has, however, sufficient interest to be read with pleasure. The -ter rible prevails, and the characters of the two heroes in crime, are too darkly tinctured … There is no fine writing in these volumes … but in point of moral tendency they are unexceptionable. Review (1794) of Eliza Parsons, Castle of Wolfenbach (1793)2 rances Burney’s assessment of Horace Walpole’s play The Mysterious FMother (1768) reflects a strong discomfort with its depiction of mother– son incest that offers revealing insights into the nature of the play’s reception. Almost universally condemned or criticised, Walpole’s play was unperformed in his lifetime and was read by a narrow audience as a consequence of its limited print run from Walpole’s Strawberry Hill Press. Burney’s own experience of the play was itself suggestive of the illicit atmosphere that surrounded the work. Though long eager to read Walpole’s work, Burney found that the play’s restricted availability made this impossible until she received a copy from the Queen. After Burney’s friends learned that the play was in her possession, they requested a 1 2 Gothic incest reading. However, ‘the loan being private, and the book having been lent to her Majesty by Lord Harcourt’ subject to ‘restrictions’ of which Burney was not fully aware, she requested permission from the Queen before reading it aloud with Mr and Mrs Smelt, Mr de Luc and the Rev. Charles de Guiffardière at a private gathering.3 Burney’s description of her reaction is characterised by horror, regret and ill-use at having been witness to, and participant in, the reading of the play. While Burney’s belief that the play had forever prejudiced her against Walpole did not persist – on seeing him some months later she ‘forget[s] the spleen I had conceived against him upon reading his tragedy’ – her reaction illuminates the play’s content as highly troubling.4 Her pointing towards the ‘voluntary’ nature of maternal guilt alludes to the agency of the mother’s instigation of incest by posing as a servant and having sex with her unwitting son. In the play the mother reveals her incestuous capacity to her son in a scene that disrupts the gender ideologies informing conventional representa- tions of incest in which men are the active abusers of women. Burney’s discomfort with the ‘dreadful’ and ‘atrocious’ work, typical of reactions to the play, indicates a sense of how deeply it troubles ideologies of gender and sexuality that implicitly inform readings of mother–son incest as the most disturbing of all incestuous relationships. Samuel Taylor Coleridge was even more repulsed by the play than Frances Burney, calling it ‘the most disgusting, vile, detestable composi- tion that ever came from the hand of man. No one with a spark of true manliness, of which Horace Walpole had none, could have written it.’5 Coleridge’s detestation of the play and his sense that it was ‘vile’ inform his disparagement of the author’s ‘manliness’; he believed that only an aberrant man could have imagined scenes of a passive and victimised son. His assertion that a man could not have written the play underscores the extent to which Coleridge identified the victimisation and passivity of the son as the conception of a non- normative male author. Coleridge’s disgust is explicated by George E. Haggerty, who argues that ‘abject, passive masculinity challenges the status quo with the “disgusting” proposi- tion that some men are victims too’.6 And to an even greater extent than the passive masculinity that is repulsive to Coleridge, it is the simultane- ous agency of the mother that so upsets the dominant ideologies. Conversely, the anonymous reviewer of Eliza Parsons’s The Castle of Wolfenbach (1793), a Gothic novel that, like Walpole’s play, centres on incestuous desire, reads the work ‘with pleasure’. This is quite a depart- ure from Burney’s and Coleridge’s reactions to reading the incestuous 2 3 Introduction plot in Walpole’s play. In fact, although the villains in Parsons’s novel are described as ‘too darkly tinctured’ and the quality of writing is not praised, the reviewer summarises the narrative as morally ‘unexceptionable’. The difference between the responses to these Gothic works lies in the type of incestuous relationship depicted. Parsons’s novel depicts the growing romantic love of an uncle, Mr Weimar, for his niece, Matilda, who recounts: ‘ “[my uncle] was for ever seeking opportunities to caress me, his language was expressive of the utmost fondness, he praised my person in such glowing colours … I began to be extremely uneasy at free- doms I scare knew how to repulse.’ ”7 The uncle’s incestuous designs turn violent and culminate with him stabbing Matilda, who survives. Parsons’s novel is praised (though faintly) by the reviewer because the form of incest appears to conform to conventional sexual and gender ideologies. An uncle’s sexually violent pursuit of his niece positions the female as passive victim to an aggressive male sexuality that, while condemned for its violation of the incest taboo, nonetheless adheres to a familiar struc- ture of power and sexuality.

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