That’s So Last Century: Fashion and Modality in Melville’s Typee

By

Tealia DeBerry

A Thesis Submitted to the Faculty of

The Dorothy F. Schmidt College of Arts and Letters

in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of

Master of Arts

Florida Atlantic University

Boca Raton, Florida

August 2009

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to thank my thesis chair, Dr. Taylor Hagood whose guidance and encouragement have given me boundless inspiration. Many thanks to Dr. Blakemore and

Dr. Scroggins; their invaluable guidance made this thesis possible. I would also like to acknowledge the contributions of my friend Liz and my husband Patrick. Their kind words of inspiration and support were the only thing that kept me going when I began to feel the weight of this project. Finally, I would like to thank my friends and family, most specifically my parents without whom this thesis would have never been written.

iii ABSTRACT

Author: Tealia DeBerry

Title: That’s So Last Century: Fashion and Modality in Melville’s Typee

Institution: Florida Atlantic University

Thesis Advisor: Dr. Taylor Hagood

Degree: Master of Arts

Year: 2009

A literary text is a means for critics to analyze societal influence on the author, and both fashion and body modification serve this same function because they are legible texts with which to interpret the psychological motivations of the wearer in the cultural context in which he or she lives. Fashion theorists such as Roland Barthes and J.C. Flugel have detailed the reasons that they believe dress evolves throughout time, and the following thesis applies their theories to Melville’s first novel Typee. In the first chapter, entitled, “Moral Fibers: Dress as the Extension of Self,” much emphasis is given to archetypes of dress such as the veil, the corset and military uniforms in the Orient and the

Occident. The second chapter, “Cut From the Same Cloth: Body Modification as

Semiotic Modality,” discusses ritualistic tattooing as a mode of literary expression.

iv That’s So Last Century: Fashion and Modality in Melville’s Typee

Introduction...... 1

Chapter One: Moral Fibers: Dress as the Extension of Self ...... 9

Chapter Two: Cut From the Same Cloth: Body Modification as Semiotic Modality ...... 30

Works Cited ...... 50

v Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment And state of bodies would bewray what life We have led. Coriolanus, v.3.

This passage from Coriolanus demonstrates the unquestionable importance of clothing as a foundation of human communication. Throughout literary history—fashion has conveyed unspoken ideas about the social values and social status of the wearers in

the time in which they are written. For example, in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, the

narrator introduces the Wife of Bath as a woman dressed in scarlet—a color that at the

time denoted a bawdy and overt sexuality.1 Fashion is so personal and so fundamentally

connected to the wearer that examining types of dress to interpret the superficial appearance of a literary character oftentimes leads to an innate knowledge of that figure’s

emotional motivations as well as the motivations of the author who figuratively “dresses”

not only his or her text but his or her characters in the fashions he or she sees fit. The text

of Typee, for example, is a rich interpretation of the interactions between Oriental and

Occidental fashions in the pre-colonial Polynesian islands, and I believe that the fashions

pictured are not arbitrarily chosen to paint a detailed portrait for interested readers;

instead, the garments and body art that Melville depict represent a serious inquiry into the

socio-consciousness of the wearers and are mirrors reflecting the time in

1 In The Canterbury Tales, Geoffrey Chaucer utilized the pseudoscience of physiognomy to communicate ideas about his characters. Both the gap in her front teeth as well as the scarlet attire she wears signifies sexual experience. 1 which Melville lived.2 Thus, just as literary text becomes a medium for critics to appreciate the effects of society on the psyche of the author, clothing and body modification then become readable texts by which to interpret the body in the cultural context in which it is placed. In this thesis, I will attempt to read between the lines of the fashions represented by Herman Melville in his novel, Typee, and to delineate particular motivations which inspire the fashions described in his text.

This link between fashion and literature is inevitable due in part to their shared terminology. Nearly interchangeable terms, such as “expression” and “style,” relate to both syntax as an essential and personal component of literary communication as well as the adornment of a trendy mode of dress in order to articulate the inner consciousness of the wearer. The term “style” is particularly useful in demonstrating the link between fashion and literature because the term, as defined by the Oxford English Dictionary, delineates both “manner or mode of expression in language as distinct from the ideas expressed,” and “a current, fashionable way of dressing” (OED, n. 1.2.). In defining

“style,” it becomes increasingly evident that though it is a term with two seemingly differing definitions, the meanings of “style” are more than merely comparable; they appear to express the same idea of outward or physical manifestation of innate individuality, but with regard to two seemingly separate media. Style also brings to the forefront an inherent connection between literature and fashion with regard to the relationship between clothes on the body, the body to a literary text, and a literary text to society as a whole. The term “body,” when referring to text, is not mutually exclusive to the physical “body” that we dress; both textual and physical bodies are ornamented as

2 I am using the terms Orient and Occident in order to reflect the sort of nomenclature that Melville would have understood with their particular political overtones as explained by Edward Said in Orientalism.. 2 seen fit by the wearer or author, and both are inherently driven by societal factors that

determine the boundaries of modesty and adornment. Moreover, as literature and fashion

are malleable modes of expression that are subject to time and surrounding culture, they

tend to gain and lose favor and are thus subject to interpretation by those who are removed from their immediate relevance.

The idea of fashion as a means of societal communication was first expressed by

J.C. Flugel. In The Psychology of Clothes, Flugel proposed a formulaic theory of dress while cataloging forms and functions of attire. Flugel begins The Psychology of Clothes with a note observing the importance of clothing as a basis of communication:

Apart from the face and hands—which, it is true, are the most socially expressive parts of our anatomy, and to which we have learnt to devote an especially alert attention—what we actually see and react to are, not the bodies, but the clothes of those about us. In the case of an individual whom we have not previously met, the clothes he is wearing tell us at once something of his sex, occupation, nationality, and social standing, and thus enable us to make a preliminary adjustment of our behavior towards him, long before the more delicate analysis of feature and of speech can be attempted (15).

Thus, clothing, and for that matter, body modification, can provide a superficial means to determine otherwise unstated facts about the adorned individual in question. This idea is central to understanding that clothing and body modification presented in a literary work is not chosen arbitrarily, but with either a subconscious or conscious desire to communicate to the reader because, as Flugel notes: “Clothes…though seemingly mere extraneous appendages, have entered into the very core of our existence as social beings.

They therefore not only permit, but demand treatment…” (16).

In addition to Flugel’s The Psychology of Clothes, which discusses the psychological motivations of dress, Roland Barthes’ work, The Language of Fashion,

3 offers some insight into the association between fashion and psychology. Like Flugel, throughout his first chapter, Barthes laments the lack of serious inquiry into the motivations of dress and the importance of a comprehensive study of fashion declaring that: “Dress is both a historical and sociological object if ever there was one…dress, for the psychoanalyst, is meaning more than index” (4-10). Later he goes on to state that:

“An article of clothing may seem to be ‘meaningless’ in itself; so we must then, more than ever, get at its social and global function, and above all its history; because the manner in which vestimentary values are presented can very well depend on an internal history of the system” (4). Fashion, according to both Flugel and Barthes, is not random, but it is a system that serves a “global” function and is directly influenced by cultural boundaries; therefore, its role in literature as cultural signifier is paramount.

Although fashion theorists such as Flugel and Barthes do not directly address literary texts, their work reads items of clothing as signs that, within a Saussurian context, imply apparent cultural values and motivations. For example, the fact that Flugel interprets clothing with an emphasis on archetypes and thus sees various garments as signs demonstrates that he is involved in a linguistic, and to a certain extent, literary activity. Though fashion theory may appear to be dealing primarily with the superficial and, as Barthes describes, “romantic” aspects of literary text, I agree with Barthes when he maintains that the clothing that adorns a literary body of work demands a psychological treatment because of its significance as a type of human communication, and, because it deals with a medium of communication, fashion theory requires a deep inquiry into both character and author motivations. One must analyze these motivations

4 in order to appropriate a comprehensive analysis of dress in a particular novel or work of fiction (The Language of Fashion, 3).

Both Flugel and Barthes deal extensively with what they believe to be the fundamental motivations for dress that, as they conclude, have shaped archetypes of attire. Flugel and Barthes consider these motives to be related to a common aspiration for adornment, modesty, and protection.3 In the first chapter of The Psychology of Clothes,

Flugel conjectures that a combination of the “biblical” desire for modesty and simultaneous need for adornment constitute the origins of fashion and exist in all

“civilize societies” (16-17). Along the same lines, Barthes states that modesty is defined by the need to place oneself within an “organized, formal and normative system that is recognized by society,” and he also agrees that the foundation of fashion is built on the desire for adornment which separates the wearer from societal norms by means or ornamentation (The Language of Fashion, 7). Though they are both acknowledged as the origins of fashion, these motivations appear contradictory in their aims, and the interplay of these seemingly conflicting desires plays a distinct role in Typee.

A brief but salient passage from the first page of Typee exemplifies the conflict between adornment and modesty outlined by Flugel and Barthes, and the depiction of the

Acushnet as an European or American female outfitted in threadbare and unfashionable attire is the first glimpse of many throughout Typee of these conflicting Western motivations for fashion.

3 The motivation of protection is, as Flugel states, a primarily utilitarian and somewhat anthropological function of dress and is not an element of fashion theory that I will be emphasizing in this thesis; rather, in the subsequent pages, I discuss the interplay between the motivations of adornment and modesty and how they interrelate within the text of Typee (17). 5 “None of us can steer the old lady now…didn’t every one of her stout timbers grow on shore, and hasn’t she sensibilities as well as we? Poor old ship! Her very looks denote her desires: how deplorably she appears! The paint on her sides, burnt up by the scorching sun, is puffed out and cracked. See the weeds she trails along with her, and what an unsightly bunch of those horrid barnacles has formed about her stern-piece; and every time she rises on a sea, she shows her copper torn away, or hanging in jagged strips” (Typee 4-5).

In this passage, the ship is personified and is steered by the motivation to repair the paint on her sides and to embellish her stern with new copper. This ship, as demonstrated in the description of the state of her attire, is trapped between the currents of two divergent cultures: one in which the constructed forms of the women dictate sexual restriction or modesty, and the other in which the tendency to eschew clothing altogether engenders wild fantasies of sexual depravity. The ship, having the same “sensibilities” as its human cargo, and in fact endowed with anthropomorphic qualities, desires to return to land in order to be adorned with a fresh coat of paint, festooned with new copper, and relieved of the unattractive tendrils of seaweed that cling to her. The ship is not in need of repairs in order to insure a safe continuance of the crew’s passage, rather, the ship “desires” repair because “she” maintains “sensibilities” that drive her away from the isolation of sea toward the more social land—a motivation originated by Tommo himself (4). If the ship, gendered female, is outfitted in worn attire and desires social interaction, her exterior appearance denotes the crew and their desires. The cracked paint and dilapidated copper fixtures represent the tattered gowns and tarnished jewels of a beleaguered European or

American gentrified woman, and the seaweed and barnacles represent a somewhat comical image of unwanted ornamentation which is a result of seclusion. Because this undesirable embellishment stems from her isolation at sea, it therefore resides outside the boundaries of proper attire perpetuating the feeling of separation from societal norms of

6 dress. Almost immediately, Melville introduces the interplay between modesty and ornamentation with regard to social interaction, and even brief passages such as this one demonstrate the fact that fashion has always been and will always be an intrinsic component of literature because so much of what people are, how they think, and what they do is vested in the fashions that they wear.

Tommo continually makes reference, not only to the clothing worn by those around him, but also to his own which demonstrates his awareness of western attire.

Tommo becomes a reader of the corporal texts that surround him in both the Eastern and

Western spheres. As Tommo becomes enmeshed in the cultural politics of Oriental and

Occidental fashions, he attempts to elucidate these motivations behind the attire. Tommo comments on corsets and the overly fashioned form of the Western woman, and he distinguishes it from the nakedness of the Oriental female figure. In my first chapter, entitled, “Moral Fibers: Dress as the Extension of Self,” I discuss Tommo’s interpretation of the interplay between the fashions of the East and West, and I pay close attention to the interaction between the feminine and masculine modes of attire as they are manifested through the corset and military garb, and I also examine the interaction between modesty and adornment which manifests in fashion as the simultaneous desire to appear nude while clothed.

Flugel cites anthropological evidence when he asserts the fact that, “among the most primitive races there exist unclothed by not undecorated peoples” (17). Unlike the

Westerners who visit the Polynesian islands, the natives, though partially clothed, are not as concerned with modesty as they are with the ornamentation of their bodies. Just as

Tommo interprets the various Western motivations for dress, he views the tattooed bodies

7 of the natives as corporeal texts which provide him with details regarding the history of

the tribe and the individuals which make up the tribal body. Because he is stranded among the Typee, Tommo begins to recognize the various tattoos that represent

significant events in the life of the Typee people. For example, the intricate tattoo work

that surrounds the mouths of the young Typee women is meant to express their ascent

into sexuality, so the tattoos not only become signifiers of the female’s individual rites of

passage, but they also become a symbol of their place within the social strata of the tribe.

Through his exposure to the tribal customs, Tommo becomes more sympathetic to the natives, and although their customs remain strange to him, he begins to appreciate the differences between the Eastern and Western spheres of fashion as he learns to interpret the corporeal expressions that surround him. In my second chapter entitled, “Cut From the Same Cloth: Body Modification as Semiotic Modality,” I continue to observe

Tommo’s inquiries into vestimentary expression, and I discuss Tommo’s attempt to read the bodies of the natives through the tattooed text.

8 Chapter One

Moral Fibers: Dress as the Extension of Self

“It is an interesting question how far men would retain their relative rank if they were divested of their clothes.” –Henry David Thoreau

In the following chapter, I would like to investigate the motivations of fashion as delineated by fashion theorist J.C. Flugel as applied to Melville’s novel, Typee. Melville chose to depict the fashions that are discussed in the novel in order to provide a commentary on the wearers as well as societal structures that served as a framework for the wearer’s motivations; in the novel, clothing becomes a legible text which provides a framework for which to interpret the reasoning behind certain fashions, and Tommo explores these motivations in both the Oriental and Occidental spheres by reading this corporeal text. Early on, it is clear that the motivations for fashion are not only based on

Oriental and Occidental association, but they are also dependent on gender associations.

Specifically, I will be dealing with sexuality in women’s dress and military style in men’s dress in Oriental and Occidental contexts.

The first motivation behind clothing I want to deal with is found in women’s dress and the varying ways that Oriental and Occidental fashion approached sensuality and bodily movement. The core archetypes of feminine attire that Flugel discusses in The

Psychology of Clothes—corsets, bustles, bustier, and veils—which cover the female form yet are formfitting enough to accentuate the contours of the female frame represent this simultaneous desire for nudity and modesty. Feminine attire—or lack thereof—is

9 discussed in length throughout Typee, and Tommo not only analyzes feminine clothing as

dress, he also treats nudity and nakedness as fashions in and of themselves. Melville

discusses the effect that the garments have on both the wearer and those who are observing the articles of clothing worn, and the effect of nudity those feminine garments provoke.

Flugel delineates the psychological motives for dress which characterize various societies and their normative functions. As he catalogs and interprets a variety of archetypes of attire, such as the Victorian corset and the Oriental veil as well as the semiotics of body modification, Flugel makes one point very clear: there are two basic

psychological reasons why human beings dress, and according to Flugel, they stem from

the desire to create “sexual allurement and as signs of rank wealth, or power”. The

motivation to create sexual “allurement” refers to a desire for clothing with an underlying

aspiration for artistic nudity. Because of the corporal shape produced by the female

archetypes of the bustle and corset, this motivation lies primarily within the feminine

realm of fashion. Flugel’s second motivation, which I discuss at the end of this chapter,

deals completely with primarily masculine archetypes which communicate dominance,

rank, wealth, and power. To understand the societal backdrop which frames Typee, it is

necessary to understand the two divergent types of fashions that Tommo is exposed to.

The women in Melville’s America would have been outfitted in corsets, crinoline and

bustles—garments in stark contrast to those of the Typee women. The native female

form, on the other hand, is shrouded in an unfitted, but sensually indicative garment

which, though implemented for modesty, still implies nudity.

10 When analyzing archetypes of western attire, it is important to first distinguish between nudity and nakedness because these ideas can create confusion when reading the

purposes of attire. In the mid 20th century, Kenneth Clark published his work The Nude:

A Study in Ideal Form, and in this work he elucidated the distinction between nude and naked in his introduction. According to Clark, nakedness is the lack of clothing and the implication of embarrassment that “most of us feel in that condition” whereas the nude is the image of the “balanced, prosperous and confident body: the body re-formed” (3).

Nudity, when applied to art or literature, manifests the ideal form of the human figure and the desire to be nude, yet clothed, is not automatically a conflict, instead, the nude is the perpetuation of “universal and eternal value” and an inclination toward excellence in physical form; therefore, a woman outfitted in a corset is every bit as nude as if she were not wearing anything at all because her body, though covered, represents the body “re- formed” (Clarke 3-9). It is true that to be nude can potentially be defined as to be clothed artistically, but this desire to be naked, or to imply nakedness, conflicts with the societal standards of modesty that was perpetuated in the 19th century Occident and represents a

conflicting desire—a conflict that permeates Melville’s text. With this said, women’s

fashions have evolved to amplify the illusion of artistic nudity, and this fact is further

evidence of the validity of Flugel’s argument.

When the motivations for its use are explored side-by-side with Melville’s text,

the corset, as an archetype of dress, reveals a simultaneous rejection of and desire for the

amplification the feminine form. Valerie Steele, fashion historian and author of Corsets:

A Cultural History, reveals that in the late Renaissance the modern corset emerged and

by the sixteenth century every aristocratic woman and girl wore a corset to denote her

11 social status (Steele 8). Though various forms of the corset had been used for centuries— some corsets even being worn by men—dating as far back as 2000 B.C. to the inhabitants of ancient Minoan Crete, the modern corset evolved into a garment primarily associated with the feminine form (Flugel 43). An object of dimensional or deformational decoration and an archetype of women’s fashion, the corset has become one of the most controversial garments in the history of clothing. Continually blamed for medical issues stemming from the tightness of the lacing, the corset has been both condemned for representing female oppression, and has been exploited as an object of fetish throughout the centuries following its conception. Despite the negativity surrounding the corset, some critics, such as Flugel, argue that the crinoline attached to the bodice and extending to the floor is, in reality, a symbol of feminine domination because of “the difficulty that men experienced in finding space to stand in a room that was occupied by a number of women thus attired” (47). Bulky crinoline aside, the overarching condemnation of the corset perseveres because it is an object of deformational attire which causes the modification of the internal organs of the wearer.

Since Luke Limner’s 1874 attack on the corset, Madre Natura Versus the Moloch of Fashion, the corset has been demonized as a cause of serious illnesses varying from cancer to deformities of the ribs and spine. Limner and his supporters presented the corset as a dangerous article of deformation used to metaphorically and physically bind women and to distort their bodies—and psyches—to adhere to unrealistic societal standards of beauty. Critics who support the corset, like Steele, determine that the corset was not an

“object of torture” created in order to enslave and objectify women as many feminists have claimed, Steel conjectures, rather, that the corset was actually a “historically

12 situated phenomenon” and that many women had a hand in its inception and fabrication

(4). While refuting the suggestion that the corset was implemented as an article of subjugation, Steele notes:

“More recently it has been argued that women were oppressed by the fashion system, which is usually perceived as an instrument of patriarchy and capitalism. Such an interpretation, however, ignores the fact that adornment and self-fashioning long preceded the rise of capitalism, and applied to men as well as women. By patronizing the women of the past as the passive “victims” of fashion, historians have ignored the reasons why so many women were willing to wear corsets for so long” (2).

These reasons behind the perpetuation of the corset’s popularity, it seems, are purely aesthetic. Steele conjectures that women have not been mere static wearers of the corset; instead, women have been active participants in its continuation. Whether victims of oppression or fashion, women throughout the centuries have sought out the corset as an article of clothing that enhances the so-called “form divine” because it gives the subtle yet conspicuous illusion of nudity while the figure is modestly covered beneath layers of cloth (Steel 3). The decline in the corset’s popularity ended at the peak of the first feminist movement in the early twentieth century, but its influence is still prevalent in modern feminine fashions because many women still seek out this divine figure as an amplification of their feminine sexuality. Because they emphasize the relative size of key areas of the body, corsets belong to the category of dimensional ornamentation or decoration. Typically, garments that adhere to dimensional aesthetics enhance the apparent size of various parts of the body by playing on the function of the garment as a whole. For example, every segment of the garment works in tandem with others to create the illusion of a desired shape. Because of the silhouette it creates—form fitted waist amplifying both the chest and backside—the corset is a tangible example of Flugel’s

13 theory that we dress because we subconsciously desire to be nude and clothed

simultaneously; corsets, and the figure they create, are a manifestation of what I believe

is this same, but inherently feminine, desire.4

Tommo serves as a mouthpiece and takes it upon himself to “translate” the

Typee’s customs and dress. Tommo, because he cannot verbally communicate with the

Typee, is forced to gather much of the information about the Typee from the clothing that they wear and the modifications they have made to their bodies. Following his departure from the tattered Acushnet, Tommo and Toby are taken in by the native Typee, who are rumored to be cannibals. It is during this seductive captivity in which Tommo is figuratively isolated because he cannot speak the Typee language that Tommo’s commentary turns to the physical aspects of the natives. Chief among these observations are those regarding fashion. As it is Tommo’s motive to articulate with validity the culture of the natives, he continually reads the Typee’s corporal text and compares the native dress to that of the more familiar Western sphere. He is initially interested in the stark contrast between the native and European attire as applied to the female form. To him, the corseted woman of the West is a bleak example of feminine sexuality as contrasted to the more ambitious sexuality of the native woman. Tommo also discusses the military attire of the Typee chief and compares it to ensemble worn by the French admiral. While the archetypes and motivations for wearing them are the same, both men view the other as vastly different. Though he does not explicitly discuss psychological

4 In his essay “Striptease,” Barthes asserts that a striptease does not aim to “drag into the light a hidden depth, but to signify through the shedding of an incongruous and artificial clothing nakedness as the natural vestiture of woman” (Mythologies, 85). It is this final nakedness that is itself the ultimate costume. 14 motivations of dress, Tommo does, through reading the Oriental and Occidental fashions

as texts, detail the attire with poignant criticisms.

Tommo begins his narrative with the metaphor of the ship that I have detailed in

my introduction. It is with this first metaphorical treatment of fashion that Tommo and, even Melville himself, begin to explore the conflicting desires that are brought about by

the interaction between the separate spheres of the Orient and the Occident. By regarding

the ship as a representation of the desire for physical modification as a need for social

interaction, Tommo establishes the desire for social modesty as a primary motive for the ship’s return to land; however, there is a distinct undercurrent of sexual desire which

drives the sailors—and the ship in turn—toward the Marquesan islands. Tommo’s ship

metaphor demonstrates a somewhat unfavorable recollection of the social propriety of

“civilized women”—which is a continued criticism throughout the novel—and that the possibility of interaction with the native women that previous sailors had, “so glowingly

described,” is far more attractive (Typee 5).

The men aboard the Acushnet are caught between similar conflicting currents of

desire and fear as they learn they are approaching the Marquesas. Tommo and the rest of

the crew’s desires for social interaction are mollified when they are informed that they

will be steering toward the Marquesan islands, yet no matter how inviting the Marquesas

appear to a man stranded at sea for six months aboard a deteriorating whaler, Tommo is

still haunted by “strange visions of outlandish things” that have been attributed to the

cannibalistic natives who inhabit the island such as “Naked houris—cannibal banquets—

groves of cocoa-nut—coral reefs—tattooed chiefs—and bamboo temples; sunny valleys

planted with bread-fruit-trees—carved canoes dancing on the flashing blue waters—

15 savage woodlands guarded by horrible idols—heathenish rites and human sacrifices” (5).

As the “savage” landscape of the novel intertwines with the concurrent promise of dwelling within a tropical paradise filled with untold pleasure and adventure, Tommo is immediately filled with a conflicting, yet predictable sense of curiosity and apprehension

(5). This theme of conflicting desires is fundamental to the interplay between gender and fashion throughout the novel because it is this same internal struggle between modesty and overt sexuality which Flugel notes in The Psychology of Clothes.

Tommo makes several references to the corset in Typee—none even moderately flattering. As I have stated, the corset serves as an amplification of the feminine form, thus it stands to reason that this same corset, fit with crinoline and bustle, would serve as a symbol for sexuality and, as Steele and Flugel suggest, liberation; however, this is not

Tommo’s implication. To Tommo, the corseted Occidental woman is caged and constricted according to societal norms and appears prudish when compared to the nude or scantily clad female figures of the native women. In the 18th century, designers began tailoring corsets with boning primarily constructed with whalebones and whalebone for the purpose of creating corsets. The whalebone corset, a symbol of both mercantile conquest and structured femininity, is an object of attire that is further lamented in

Melville’s novel, Moby Dick. Whalebone, cage-like and constructed, becomes a symbol of sexual repression for Tommo because he associates it with both the corset, which limits female sexuality with its bodily restriction, and at the same time it represents his time aboard the whaler because it is a commodity for which he trades social and sexual interaction with women.

16 Tommo is subconsciously pulled back west and toward what he reads as a more structured sexuality, yet he is driven by an unconscious desire for the “outlandish things” that the island might hold. While he is on the island, Tommo prefers the natural beauty of the native island women, who are “tricked out with flowers, and dressed in robes of variegated tappa…in great style” as opposed to the “constructed” form of the corseted lady (15). As opposed to what he views as the synthetic form of the corseted lady, the island women maintain a natural and overt sexuality. Though Tommo desires to return home, he cannot help but compare the native women to those whose figures are manipulated in the interest of fashion. Tommo is drawn home toward the promise of structured sexuality, but the pull toward the promise of sexual liberation is enough to incite his desire for immediate investigation, even at the risk of his own mortal peril. This contrast between the Occidental and Oriental woman is so severe that Tommo ultimately begins to view garments of the Orient as objects of fetish because they reside so far outside the boundaries of Occidental morality that they become sexual in their constructed modesty.

In the novel, Oriental attire is represented by a westernized variation of the veil.

Constructed from tappa cloth as opposed to silk, the garments that adorn the native women are a hybrid of Western modesty and Eastern ornamentation. Unlike garments of the Occident such as the corset and bustle, the veil, an object representing the orient, becomes an item which proclaims desire throughout Typee. In the novel, Tommo continually details the attire—and lack thereof—of the natives. It seems that for daily life, the natives remain unclothed; however, for the feast of Calabashes and for the arrival of the westerners in port, the native women dress in robes made of sheer white tappa

17 (163). An interesting and albeit non-traditional variation of the Oriental shroud, the white robes that veil the figures of the women conform to the demands of modesty yet are sheer enough to create the nude form. The crew of the Acushnet revels in the natural sexuality

of the native women because “not the feeblest barrier was interposed” between

themselves and the females of the island because the native women are not confined in

whale-bone corset frames like the women back home (20). Though it has too become an

item of fetish, the corset in Typee, likened to a cage, is merely an object of deformation

and sexual restriction.5 Unlike the Westernized women who are continually pictured as

encaged birds, the native women evoke the image of the bird free from the cage—their

billowing shrouds evoking the image of flight and sexual freedom. After he describes, in

an underscored tone, the possibility of sexual liaisons between the crew and the native

women, Tommo illustrates a scene of sexual debauchery that immediately ensues once

the native women are aboard the ship:

Not the feeblest barrier was interposed between the unholy passions of the crew and their unlimited gratification…the grosses licentiousness and the most shameful inebriety prevailed, with occasional and but short-lived interruptions…unsophisticated and confiding, they [were] easily led into every vice (15).

The lack of “barrier” is both a nod to the lack of the tangible barrier of clothing

interposed between the crew and the women as well as the lack stringent moral barriers

that often stifled the occidental female’s sexuality. As the native women don their veils,

and doff them just as easily, Tommo and the crew are introduced to a variety of

femininity unfamiliar to their Western eyes. Tommo’s commentary, however, implies his

5 Flugel notes: “The most striking case of deformation in the Western world is undoubtedly that which concerns the waist…a type of embellishment that seems to have appealed more to women than to men…” (The Psychology of Clothes 43). 18 internal conflict with the potential corruption of the native women. Though Tommo is

excited by--and no doubt participates in--the debauchery, he remains morally opposed to

the moral disgrace of the native women. Just as Tommo’s reaction to the “licentiousness”

of the crew is conflicting, the veil, though Tommo interprets it as a garment of sexual

inhibition, is not typically considered to be a garment of feminine liberation but rather

typically represents an article of feminine oppression. In her article “On Veiling, Vision

and Voyage: Cross-Cultural Dressing and Narratives of Identity,” postcolonial critic

Reina Lewis discusses the aesthetics of the veil at length and surmises that, though early

feminists felt threatened by it, many “modern” occidental women actually romanticized

the veil as an object of sexual interest. In particular, a book entitled An Englishwoman in

a Turkish Harem, written by British feminist Grace Ellison, is a prime example of the

modern fetishization of oriental attire; in it, Ellis writes “but veils are picturesque. No more becoming a head-dress has ever been invented for women” (23). Ellison, it appears, interprets the veil, not as an instrument of oppression, but rather as the implementation of a standard yet aesthetically pleasing garment. As it explores possibilities of dress that reside outside of the binaries of normative function, this cross-cultural adornment is further evidence of Flugel’s motive of conflicting desire because the women’s motives for dress are severely corrupted by the effect the garments produce on the men of the

Acushnet.

The interaction between the two cultural spheres of fashion is detailed by Tommo in the first chapter of Typee. In a section entitled “Adventure of a Missionary’s Wife,”

Tommo relates a humorous anecdote that challenges the normative underpinnings of

Westernized notions of modesty as he explores the role of cloth as a signifier of both

19 divinity and sexuality. Already a story of “adventure,” the tale begins a series of

outlandish anecdotes which are intended to serve as a mild warning of the differences

between the moral boundaries of the natives and of those who reside in the Occident.

Though Melville gained much attention for his negative portrayal of missionaries in the

Marquesas, the anecdote of the missionary’s wife is satirical jest, playing on the mutual ignorance of both the colonizers and the colonized regarding each other’s cultural differences. In the tale, a young missionary, “undaunted” by his lack of success, presents his wife to the natives in an attempt to win their admiration and to perhaps convert them to Christianity. The missionary believes in the “efficacy” of the female influence and that the fairness of his wife will engender piety and respect within the savage souls of the indigenous Marquesan natives, and he displays his wife, who is at once worshiped as

“divine” because she is adorned in billowing calico. The wife, however, soon finds

herself subjected to sexual dissection, and she, “the first white woman who had ever

visited their shores,” is met with a less than reverent greeting:

But after a short time, becoming familiar with its charming aspect, and jealous of the folds which encircled its form, they sought to pierce the sacred veil of calico in which it was enshrined, and in the gratification of their curiosity so far overstepped the limits of good breeding, as deeply to offend the lady’s sense of decorum. Her sex was ascertained, their idolatry was changed into contempt; and there was no end to the contumely showered upon her by the savages, who were exasperated at the deception which they conceived had been practiced upon them (6).

The natives, uncertain of the missionary’s wife’s potential divinity—given her adornment in a white billowy shroud of calico, a bodice and an accompanying bustle—are inclined to inspect for themselves. Veiled in calico, the missionary’s wife is both the symbol of some “new” feminine divinity which serves as a manifestation of the Virgin Mary and a

20 pagan goddess. The natives immediately deduce a sense of divinity from the elegant folds

of the calico that shroud the missionary’s wife, and it is only after they become “jealous

of the folds” that the natives strip her of her garments in order to ascertain her sex

because, as Flugel notes, “when one is not a worshipper, one tends all to easily to become

a scoffer” (137). The naive natives, who “first gaze in mutual admiration” at the white

goddess, are transformed into barbaric savages due to the influence of both the

“whiteness” of her complexion and the simplicity of her anatomy. The natives are drawn

to the missionary’s wife, not only because this is their first encounter with a white

female, but also because her robes create the illusion of divinity—a direct result of the

form divine. As the natives realize that her clothes are not an extension of the wife’s body and that she is not divine, they are disturbed by what they believe to be sheer dishonesty on the missionary’s part—a deception which soon incites a minor rebellion. The aesthetic divinity that results from sartorial confluence has the same effect on the natives as they looked upon the shrouded form of the missionary’s wife, as the native women themselves have on Tommo and the crew of the Acushnet. Robes and veils, with their uninhibited movement, tend to inspire both ideals of divinity as well as suggestions of sexuality.

In an inversion of the “Missionary’s Wife” tale, Tommo recalls his first impression of the native women of the Marquesas in a section entitled, “Swimming

Visitors.” Adorned in tappa cloth, a similar fabric to the calico worn by the missionary’s wife, the women of the island, as they first appear to Tommo, use their garments to their advantage as they entice the men aboard the whaling vessel:

As they drew nearer, and I watched the rising and sinking of their forms, and beheld the uplifted right arm bearing above the water, the girdle of tappa, and their long dark hair trailing beside them as they swam, I almost

21 fancied they could be nothing else than so many mermaids:--and very like mermaids they behaved too (16).

Tommo is immediately enraptured by the free-formed figures of the native women in the

water as the cloth appears to become an extension of their forms. Tommo reads the

placement and movement of the cloth as a representation of overt and uninhibited

sexuality. The cloth and their hair become one single line of garment, distinct yet

aesthetically entangled. Flugel notes the degree to which confluence manipulates the

appearance of the garments in relation to the wearer, creating an illusion of size or

movement and he asserts that, due to confluence, the garment is subconsciously attributed to the body of the wearers, and that the body therefore appears “more vital and interesting” as a result of their relationship (36). Confluence has this same effect on the

Missionary’s wife as her calico becomes a singular portion of her anatomy and a signifier of her pretended divinity. As the tappa enshrouds the native women as they approach the boat, Tommo subconsciously observes a seductive veiled dance because the illusion created by the tappa cloth manipulates the size and movement of the female forms.

These anecdotes are directly related to the performance aspect of attire which is a

significant factor in determining the psychological motivations of the wearer. Because of its psychological importance, Flugel dedicates an entire chapter of The Psychology of

Clothing to the performance aspect of attire. As evidence for his two motivations for

dress, Flugel catalogs many archetypes of dress and interprets their psychological

significance.

Because the archetypes associated with feminine attire create a shape which

emphasizes the “uterine” form, the feminine figure, in its most fashionable state, is

22 invariably linked to fertility and female sexuality (Flugel 156). The corset, while cinching

the waist, amplifies the bust and hips and ultimately denotes the sexuality and fertility of the wearer, while shrouds produce the same effect but with more emphasis on the

movements of sexual performance. Though they are clothed with the makeshift tappa

bustles, the native women are continually referred to as “naked forms.” Even though the

shrouds that they wear are not form-fitting as the corset, they become part of the form as

a whole and are disregarded as a separate object in relation to the body. The idea of being

nude in a corset is not a new one; in fact, Steele cites a poem inspired by French

Impressionist Manet’s portrait of actress Henrietta Hauser entitled, “Nana” that

exemplifies this supposition:

“More than nude, in her chemise, the fille shows off Her charms and the flesh tempts” (Steele 113).

The idea of being nude in a shroud, however, is an idea that is much less explored. Items traditionally associated with the orient, shrouds or veils are considered to be garments of modesty as opposed to those of adornment or ornamentation. As Barthes states, articles of modesty cannot be likened to those of adornment or ornamentation because the inherent individuality of the adornment negates its association with the moral ideals of the society in which the wearer exists; however, the veil has become object of fetish in the west and therefore steps beyond the boundaries of modesty into the realm of individual adornment (15). Though the veils and shrouds pictured and Typee are much different from the Muslim Hijab in terms of coverage, the basic movement of the garment is much the same, and, in Typee, the shroud produces much the same effect as the satin corset or negligee, but with a more natural shape, and Tommo even describes the natives

23 as lacking a certain “voluptuousness of form” that is a stark contrast to the overly constructed figure produced by the corset and bustle (15). The implication of nudity through shrouding or veiling, though more obvious when applied to the half-naked forms of the Marquesan women, becomes a fetishization of the Oriental shroud and an exploration of a natural variation of the divine form. It appears that, to Tommo, the native women, as they swim toward the whaling vessel like so many veiled “mermaids,” are— like Manet’s Nana—“more than nude.” This idea of being “more than nude” adheres to both Oriental and Occidental feminine attire, and the corset, though clinging to the body as to amplify the form divine, is equally matched with regard to sensuality to the free- flowing shroud or veil which emphasizes the grace and seductive movements of the wearer. Tommo’s assessment of the native women’s beauty is immediately affected by the aesthetic manipulation of confluence as the women’s movements are exaggerated by their garments but remain arguably part of their whole form. Flugel suggests that

“flowing garments, tugged… by the wind, seem only to emphasize or extend the gestures of the body and the implied attitude of the mind,” and because of this effect, the sensuality of the movements in the attire denotes the sensuality of the women, thus promoting the idea of nakedness while shrouded (38). The natural image of the native

Polynesian women in their free-flowing garments is a stark contrast to the westernized woman in her cage-like bustle, and any reference to occidental attire is a reminder that female sexuality in the west is enmeshed in codes of morality that cannot be negotiated.

Turning to men’s fashion, the second motive for dress that Flugel discusses stems from an inherent psychological need to communicate through noticeable symbols and archetypes. If cloth, whether cinched around the waist of a native or fabricated to perform

24 the function of a corset, can imply nakedness and sexuality it achieves a rather different meaning when applied to the masculine form. Of the second motivation for fashion,

Flugel states: “There can be little doubt that the ultimate and essential cause of fashion lies in competition” (138). As Tommo reads the masculine fashions throughout the novel, it becomes apparent that men dress in order to impress certain ideas upon anyone with whom they come in contact (38). Not necessarily a stark contrast to the first motive, this motive deals primarily with the performance aspect of military dress and uniform, which are, in the traditional realm of fashion, predominantly masculine forms of adornment

(Flugel 41).

In the first section of, The Language of Fashion, Barthes states that “Any vestimentary system is either regional or international, but it is never national” because systems of fashion have always been based on geographical location as opposed to a national identity (5). In other words, different parts of a given country are likely to have varying vestimentary requirements but remain part of the nation. The reasoning behind

Barthes’ assertion deals primarily with class; Flugel also mentions class as a deciding factor of “the why of fashion” stating that “it is a fundamental human trait to imitate those who are admired or envied” (138). In every world culture, there are a set number of archetypes with regard to clothing and fashion, and these archetypes vary with regard to general ideals of modesty and normative function, and it is the interplay between the lower class, which strives to attain the fashions of the upper class, and the aristocracy, who tend to abandon popular garments once they are in danger of “losing their distinctive value now that they are being copied” by the lower classes, that stimulate fashionable modes of dress within the given set of archetypes (Flugel 138). It is within these

25 archetypes that a set national dress would be derived, if, as Barthes states, there was no differentiation in dress with regard to class. The very idea of a national dress eliminates any allowance for variations in attire, and because there exists a distinct standard of dress that is applied according to social status, national attire is somewhat implausible. It is my

opinion, however, that, because it serves as a display of national power, military dress uniform meets the criteria for national attire, and it is from Tommo’s commentary in

Typee that my reasoning is derived.

Because he is the narrator of the novel and thus the filter through which the reader

gains insight, Tommo’s ability to read the bodies of those around him is imperative.

When he details the moment that the military leaders from both the East and West first

meet, Tommo makes it apparent that each faction’s primary goal is to intimidate the

other. If military uniform is not a display of national power, it would not be standardized,

and it would not be used to represent the nation in times of military conquest.

Standardized military uniform almost certainly began with the Greek hoplite soldiers in the mid to late seventh century B.C. (Pomeroy, 255). It is with the hoplites, who wore crimson garments in order to denote their military affiliation, that there is evidence of a standardization of soldier’s attire regardless of rank or tribal affiliation. According to

Flugel, tradition plays a strong part in the classification of a garment as “national” and he notes that in order for a garment to be considered ‘national’ the value of the garment must not only adhere to the standards of the present time, but also to the standards of the past

(32). National attire, should, generally speaking, represent the nation’s attitude toward modesty with little or no regard to personal adornment unless that adornment is a result of service to the nation itself; with that, basic as well as overarching values can be

26 reiterated in national dress. It is certain that the rank of various officers may be declared on their uniform, and their individualization is not in conflict with the modesty that the garment upholds. Unlike civilian social class systems which present variations due to social mores, ranks in military dress are not marks of fortune but in fortitude and military service. Disregarding the protective aspect of military dress, the performative function of such attire is of primary concern to the wearer. It is important that military uniforms express not only the values of the nation but also a sense of pride and perhaps even an inclination toward the desire for dominance. On the performance aspect of dress, Flugel notes several key archetypes which psychologically engender feelings of authority; these archetypes are both local and ornamental. Flugel first discusses dress as it relates to the wealth of the wearer. Military clothing that is overly embellished—much like the French uniforms pictured in the opening chapters of Typee—present the nation as having wealth and general prosperity, and this display of wealth simultaneously serves as a means of intimidation. The French soldiers in Typee don ornate and expensive military uniforms in order to display, to the natives who they hope to control, the power of their nation and their ability to acquire diverse and costly commodities. This desire to display authority is not isolated to the French or to Western imperialism itself, instead, unwilling to be controlled or outdone, the king of Nukuheva dons his own “magnificent military uniform” in an attempt to display the power of his own nation:

Their appearance was certainly calculated to produce an effect. His majesty was arrayed…stiff with gold lace and embroidery, while his shaven crown was concealed by a huge chapeau bras, waving with ostrich plumes (17).

27 The farcical effect of the French regiment is so profound that Melville states not even “a

regiment of the Old Guard reviewed on a summer’s day in the Champs Elysees, could not have made a more critically correct appearance” (17). This reference to Paris’ renowned

fashion district, though seemingly coincidental, is a premeditated allusion. Women’s

fashion—headed by top Parisian designers—in the nineteenth century West, and its implications regarding female sexuality is constantly at the forefront of Melville’s

political agenda. It is evident that both men are putting on a show for the other, hoping to display both the wealth of their nations and the strength of themselves as military leaders.

Though the French grimace at the appearance of the king, they seem to be unaware that both men appear wearing uniforms fitted with gold embroidery to exhibit the wealth of their nation and that the “savage” king is an almost direct mirror image to

that of the French admiral (29). Both men are pictured in chapeaux, which are a variant of

the local form of vertical adornment in which the height of the body is extended as to

create a union between the wearer and the object which not only functions as a diversion

from the actual size of the wearer but draws attention to a part of the body which requires

emphasis for psychological dominance. The extension of the crown not only implies that

the height of the wearer is physically dominant, it also draws attention to the size of the

cranium thus implying superior intelligence. Just as women dress in the predominantly

uterine form, the preponderance of men’s archetypes verge on the phallic—men’s hats

included (Flugel 155). Flugel notes that local adornment can “either draw attention to a

particular part of the body, or else is used entirely on its own merits as an independent

object of beauty, attractive in virtue of its intrinsic value” (51). These are two distinct

motives for local adornment which are also gendered with regard to psychological

28 motivation. A lady’s hat, decorated with “needles, combs and jewels” as an object of beauty, has a distinct motivation which does not adhere to the principle of vertical extension (Flugel 51). Though a form of adornment, the lady’s hat is unlike the military

chapeau because the female wearer does not seek to extend her height—or emphasize any

part of her anatomy—with the garment, but rather to draw attention to the hat itself as an

extension of her attire or as an object of beauty distinct from her body. The military

chapeau, as detailed by Tommo, is used in harmonization with the natural height of the

wearer in order to exhibit the wearer’s authority or dominance. The same can be said for

the men’s dress hat, which, though not typically ornamented in elaborate design, displays

the height of the wearer as to imply physical superiority. Not only does the military hat

communicate dominance, if it is decorated with objects of wealth, it can display the

wealth of the nation for which it is worn. While the admiral dons a gilded French military

chapeau, the king of Nukuheva displays the wealth of his nation by wearing a headdress

trimmed with ostrich feathers which are objects of beauty and prosperity to the Nukuheva

(Typee 29). Tommo uses this passage to comment on the masculine desire to

communicate through noticeable symbols, a contrast to the more feminine desire for

artistic nudity.

29 Chapter Two

Cut From the Same Cloth: Body Modification as Semiotic Modality

“Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society”

–Mark Twain

Tommo’s preoccupation with fashion does not end with modes of attire derived

solely from cloth; rather, because he is interpreting the lifestyle of the Typee from a

purely physical standpoint, Tommo literally reads the tattoos on the bodies of the natives

as a text in order to understand their individual and tribal motivations. Because of the

language barrier that prevents Tommo from communicating with his captors, it is through

universal signs and symbols that Tommo is able to discern information about the Typee.

In the following chapter, I will discuss Semiotics as a means to interpret the language of body modification.

Derived from the Greek “Semeiotics” which literally means an interpreter of

signs, Semiotics has become a necessary discipline in the study of human symbology

(Deely 2). According to Charles Peirce, Semiotics is the “quasi-necessary formal doctrine of signs” which gives rise to the psychological interpretation of human archetypes and

symbols throughout every discipline in the humanities (2). The theory of Semiotics is an

established science that ascertains that the entire human experience is a structure based

on and sustained by the understanding of signs and symbols and these signs’ interaction

30 within varying cultures throughout time. Initially, Semiotics was established as a

scientific evaluation of symbols in linguistic discourse and their usage throughout

systems of language, but in more recent years, the study of Semiotics has been applied to

the social sciences, and for my purposes, the social aspects of attire.

In Semiotics, the language of the body as interpreted through exterior fashion is deciphered through its outward projection of style, its movement, and any modification the body undergoes whether willingly or by unexpected incident. Like fashion itself, any artifact of culture is investigated according to patterns of language and is given a role in the interpretation of an individual’s narrative (Deely 4). Though Semiotics was originally applied to linguistics, many critics, including Horst Ruthrof, have applied the science to modifications of the body. Of the importance of bodily interpretation through Semiotics,

Ruthrof states: “Awareness of my body grants a certain immediacy of primary signification… meaning is not restricted to linguistic expressions but is a part of every perceptual performance by which we constitute our world” (11). In his analysis, Ruthrof establishes the innate union between language and fashion as systems both based on

Semiotic signification by demonstrating their association with the subject’s bodily

performance. Just as a speaker is signified by what he or she speaks and the manner in

which he or she speaks, the clothes that he or she wears as well as the manner in which

they are worn become signifiers that reflect self-perception and the desire for outward expression.

In her critical work, Bodies That Matter, Judith Butler discusses the interplay between fashion and Semiotics with regard to social and natural dress. The social, represented by the sartorial western imperialist, is a stark contrast to the nakedness of the

31 “natural” native. However, Butler affirms that the social debases the natural with respect

to meaning and that the natural throughout the imperialist age had been typically

perceived as dress “before intelligibility” and has been primarily associated with the

Orient (4). This idea of “before intelligibility” which Butler denounces produces a narrow

view of the native cultures as primitive or “savage.” Butler is correct in her analysis, and

Typee is a text which supports her assertion. Though it is first and foremost a work of

fiction, Typee retains the features of an autobiography or travel novel, in which case it

serves as a primary text and an inquiry into Oriental as well as Occidental customs,

beliefs, and values. Communication “before intelligibility” is a theme which constructs

the entire narrative landscape of the novel because Tommo communicates solely with the

Typee through readable signs and symbols. Though Melville has been criticized as being

falsely sympathetic and planting a subversive criticism within his narrative, his narrator,

Tommo, is a voice for both the East and the West.6 Tommo makes educated judgments

regarding the fashions and customs of the West of which he is very informed, but when

serving as the narrator for the Typee, Tommo is muted and is required to interpret much of what he experiences rather than communicating verbally. Tommo is, however, able to nonverbally interpret the Typee because he makes a substantial effort to “read” their

bodies.

Even though he is a foreigner, Tommo is able to read the natives’ bodies as a text

because the details of the bodies and the tattooed symbols are universal. This ability to

read the culture contradicts the Western notion that the native culture was illiterate and

therefore savage. Along with Butler, John Deely discusses the universal development of

6 In his essay “False Sympathy in Melville’s Typee,” critic Michael Breitweiser claims that Melville creates false sympathy for the Typee natives. 32 human signs and the inclination for the Western sphere to view the Eastern sphere as

inherently illiterate. Deely states that humans are essentially narrative beings who

develop according to stories rather than logic or instinct, and Butler furthers this

argument by making a distinction between social development in the Occident and the

instinctual or logical natural development in the Orient (Deely 1). Social versus logical

modes of progress relate not only to the expansion of language, but these modes of

development find a parallel within the context of dress. Western or “social” dress is

essentially readable because it is based in a narrative society whereas natural dress is,

according to Butler, virtually indecipherable because it is primitive, bare, naked, logical

instinctual, and primarily utilitarian. I do not believe, however, that this is the case with

the Typee who not only don clothing for cultural events but who are also literally

inscribed with readable cultural text in the form of traditional tattooing. Tommo’s ability

to read the Typee’s corporeal text proves that the Typee have a legible and literate culture

and, just as narrative dress in the West is read, natural dress or nudity has its own signifiers that can be decoded and translated into a language of fashion.

The primary case against the conception of an Eastern narrative fashion is the lack of daily clothing. In the case of the Marquesans, the idea of an established “fashion” is debatable. The presence of ceremonial garb nods to a passing interest in clothing; however, it is through their complete lack of daily wear that the Marquesans appear to shun fashionable coverings for more, as Butler would assert, “utilitarian” albeit nude,

“dress.” This lack of an established fashion does not, however, impede the Marquesans’ ability to produce a “readable” fashion with their bodies; their bodies, as opposed to more overt signifiers of clothing, are texts that simply require interpretation. Not only do the

33 tattoos serve as individual semiotic signifiers, producing a narrative which can essentially

be deciphered, the natives’ bodies themselves are subject to signification which stems

from the uniqueness and near perfection of their forms.

The bodies are readable in the sense that they serve a narrative function and provide Tommo and the reader with a superficial understanding of the natives themselves

and their culture, so even if the Marquesan bodies were not covered in the intricate tattoo

work, their forms themselves would continue to be readable texts for Tommo because he

is able to interpret details about the Typee way of life based solely on how their bodies

appear. Tommo remarks on the quality of the Marquesan body in a section entitled,

“Personal Beauty of the Typees” and draws attention to the simplicity and the Grecian

perfection of their bodies:

In beauty of form they surpassed anything I had ever seen. Not a single instance of natural deformity was observable in all the throng attending the revels. Occasionally I noticed amongst the men the scars of wounds they had received in battle; and sometimes, though very seldom, the loss of a finger, an eye, or an arm attributable to the same cause. With these exceptions, every individual appeared free from those blemishes which sometimes mar the effect of an otherwise perfect form. But their physical excellence did not merely consist in an exception from these evils; nearly every individual of their number might have been taken for a sculptor’s model” (180).

Because of their lack of clothing, the natives’ bodies, rather than their dress, serve as

semiotic signifiers to Tommo who is preoccupied with reading the physical aspects of the

Typee just as he was interested in reading the fashions of the Western gentry. Tommo

asserts that it is the coming of age in a “tropical environment” that stimulates a nearly

perfected form, a fact that can be “read” from merely observing the Marquesan body. The

condition of the native bodies serves as both cultural and individual signifiers which

34 produce an informative narrative for Tommo. This bodily perfection, as Tommo correctly

“reads,” stems from a lifetime of physical exertion and a diet consisting of native bread-

fruit crushed into an edible and medicinal paste. Those who do have flaws in figure, such as a scar or a missing digit, retain signifiers which are utilized with the intention of interpreting the personal narrative of the individual. With minimal verbal communication, it becomes necessary for Tommo to interpret the bodies of the natives in order to become familiar with them; thus, a signifier such as a scar inflicted in a battle with a neighboring tribe is as significant and readable to him as a piece of text on a written page. As Tommo discusses the bodies of the natives rather than the flesh itself, he draws a comparison to the bodies of the so-called “civilized” man and paints a somewhat grotesque image of how an American or European gentleman would appear positioned next to the divine form of the Marquesan native:

When I remembered that these islanders derived no advantage from dress, but appeared in all the naked simplicity of nature, I could not avoid comparing them with the fine gentlemen and dandies who promenade such unexceptionable figures in our frequented thoroughfares. Stripped of the cunning artifices of the tailor, and standing forth in the garb of Eden— what a sorry set of round-shouldered, spindle-shanked, crane-necked varlets would civilized men appear! Stuffed calves, padded breasts, and scientifically cut pantaloons would then avail them nothing, and the effect would be truly deplorable (181).

This comparison is a cultural one because Tommo is interpreting Eastern and Western stereotypes rather than a particular individual. As Tommo makes a comparison between the constructed form of the European or American gentleman and the simplistic form of the Marquesan, it is apparent which form he finds more aesthetically pleasing. Just as the

Marquesan man’s body reveals information about his life on the island, the Western gentleman’s life of privilege is revealed as a facet of his corporal text. The

35 “unexceptionable” form of the westernized male appears weak and overly constructed

beside the naturally muscular form of the Marquesan native. The Western gentleman’s

body, bedecked in nothing but the “garb of Eden” is pale, and his shoulders are sagging

with lack of physical exertion (181). The gentleman is a rendering of what, in his

padding, would appear to be a domineering man. Tommo is mourning the gentleman’s

lack of natural masculinity and is questioning Western motivations of dress. In the 19th century, these motivations were concerned with satisfying the moral aims of modesty while concurrently fulfilling an ornamental function. Men were concerned with appearances and constructed their clothing to emphasize aspects of their form that would create a more dominant appearance. While the typical western female, in order to magnify her sexuality, donned a corset to amplify her bust and hips while emphasizing the slenderness of her waistline, the quintessential Occidental gentleman padded his shoulders in order to articulate his stature and stuffed his stockings in order to accentuate the size and power of his legs. The depiction of his stuffed calves and “scientifically cut” pantaloons is a stark contrast to the naturally muscular legs of the Marquesan. This commentary is a comical jab at the idleness of the Western gentry, and the Western man’s figure is ultimately accredited to the “cunning” of his tailor, which has molded him into the Western ideal form. Though his appearance denotes a dignified gentleman, stripped bare and placed next to the Marquesan, the Western example of masculinity is based too heavily on sartorial construction and appears to be a mere fabrication. Because it is constructed rather than organic, the gentleman’s body is not his own, but rather a production implemented by his tailor and approved of by the society in which he lives.

The Western example of bodily text, therefore, is more constructed, but not more

36 informative than its Eastern equivalent. Because there is no difference in readability, the

notion of a superior Western textual readability that Butler references is inherently

flawed.

The notion of two oppositional fashions—readable and primitive—is unsound

because both primitive and established modes are legible in their own ways. Typee

fashion, though basic, consists of tattooing as well as daily utilitarian garb, but when it

comes to celebrations, articles of Western descent are readily used. The tattooing as well

as the utilization of Western cloth are both readable fashion mediums. It is possible to read the bodies of the Marquesans to understand their personal narratives, and it is possible to read the cloth as a cultural influence on the tribe’s collective narrative. As

Western presence becomes more prevalent on the island, the Marquesan’s sense of fashion at the time that Tommo makes his observations is influenced but not especially affected. The muted voyeur Tommo is again required to interpret the garments worn by the Typee in an attempt to elucidate their motivations for fashion. Tommo lists several items among those worn by the Typee at the feast of the Calabashes, but makes it very

clear that the items were not used daily; rather, they were implemented solely for the

gala.

Some of the natives present at the feast of the Calabashes had displayed a few article of European dress; disposed, however, about their persons after their own peculiar fashion. Among these I perceived the two pieces of cotton-cloth which poor Toby and myself had bestowed up on our youthful guides…They were evidently reserved for gala day.... The small number who were similarly adorned, and the great value they appeared to place upon the most common and most trivial articles, furnished ample evidence of the very restricted intercourse they held with the vessels touching at the island. A few cotton handkerchiefs of a gay pattern, tied about the neck and suffered to fall over their shoulders; strips of fanciful calico swathed about the loins were nearly all I saw (184).

37

It appears that the clothing left behind by the Westerners during their stops at the island

still does not instill a sense of modesty in the Typee, yet it still influences the tribal

narrative. The influence of the garments, though minute, is readily readable. The

Occidental attire, to the Typee, is merely ornamental and has no bearing on their everyday lives nor does it sway them into a sense of false modesty, for the Typee attempt at modesty is not for their own sake, but rather, for the sake of the passengers onboard the

visiting vessels.

When reading the tribal narrative, it is important to note the historical influence of

Western mercantile venture on the Marquesan islands. Native Marquesans populated the

Marquesan islands roughly 2000 years ago, and until 1595, the natives had never been

exposed to contact with any other civilization and lived their lives in cultural isolation.

When a Spanish ship carrying Alvaro de Mandana and his crew of explorers anchored in

the waters outside of the Marquesas, the islands quickly became a commodity and a

stopping off point for mercantile vessels traversing the Pacific. The first explorers were

unable to determine the exact longitude of the Marquesas and were therefore unable to

accurately place the islands on a map. Soon after, several conflicts with the explorers led

to the slaughter of nearly two hundred Marquesan natives, the route fell out of favor and

the Marquesan islands remained untouched by Western conquest for more than two

hundred years. Upon rediscovering the Marquesas in 1774, Captain James Cook located

the precise coordinates of the islands, and they became a frequent stop for Westerners. In

May of 1842, just a few years before the Typee was written, sixty French infantry men

accompanied by their admiral in “full ceremonial dress” claimed the islands for the

38 French colonial empire, and following the European expansion, the native population steadily declined from 90,000 to a mere 5,246 in the course of one hundred years (Gilbert

55-56).

Whalers and merchants throughout the 18th and 19th centuries used the

Marquesas as a port for provisions though, due to the fact that the Marquesan natives were rumored to be hostile cannibals, few Europeans or Americans stayed long enough to establish any genuine familiarity with the native customs. It was not until 1804 when

Ivan Krusenstern, accompanied by author and German naturalist Georg Heinrich von

Langsdorff, discovered two Europeans—Frenchman Jean Baptiste Cabri and Englishman

Edward Robarts—living among the natives that any real information about the native culture was finally acquired (Gilbert 55). Immediately interested in the elaborate tattooing—most specifically in the commonality and placement of the patterns—

Krusenstern, with the assistance and guidance of Cabri and Robarts, studied the native customs. Langsdorff’s account, published as Voyages and Travels in Various Parts of the

World, is perhaps the only document that chronicles Marquesan life before the onslaught of Western colonialism (Gilbert 55).

Following the publication of Langsdorff’s book, Marquesan tattooing became a curiosity throughout Europe and America. Extremely detailed drawings of the natives with diagrams delineating various patterns of tattooing and their placements on the body were published in Langsdorff’s book as a supplement to the inquisitiveness of the

Westerners regarding the full-body tattooing that the natives, both men and women, endured (Gilbert 56). It is apparent that Melville harbored a fond affection for the natives of the Marquesas because it was, of course, his curiosity in the strange—and purportedly

39 dangerous—customs of the natives which initially inspired his desire for an adventurous life at sea and which eventually brought him to the islands. It was this fear and simultaneous desire that brought many explorers to the shores of the Marquesas, and

Melville was no different. Tales of naked cannibals, however frightening, proposed a singular distinction from uniformity of Western existence. The culture of the Marquesas

became a commercial commodity through the influx of mercantile trade throughout the

island and though some aspects of their culture were deemed inappropriate by Western

standards, many sailors, including Melville himself, were attracted to the danger and

intrigue nestled within the island wilderness of the Marquesas.

Tommo’s journey, which mirrors Melville’s own, begins as he rejects the

mercantile imperialism of the West for the wilds of the East. The moment Tommo

decides to abscond from the vessel, he is rejecting the normative underpinnings of the

West in favor of the freedom and inhibition of the East even though it may lead to his disgrace or death. After deserting their ship—a manifestation of this maritime imperialism—Tommo and Toby flee into the mountains of Nukuheva in order to take shelter with the native Happars, but because they are unable to successfully navigate the native terrain, Tommo and Toby are instead taken in by the purportedly cannibalistic

Typee tribe. Impeded by an injury and the inability to communicate anything other than simple words and phrases, Toby and Tommo are at once transformed from iconographic

Western explorers into mere observers and consumers of native culture, and their inability to pilot their way to the correct tribe exemplifies this exchange. Muted and helpless, both Tommo and Toby fall victim to a kind of seductive captivity in which they are subjected to a mutual curiosity with the natives. It is not until Toby—Tommo’s only

40 connection to Western civilization—escapes the settlement, seemingly abandoning

Tommo to the will of the Typees, that Tommo is truly submerged in the indigenous culture and is able, without the imposition of language, to observe the minutiae of Typee life.

As he is preparing to abscond from the ship, Tommo packs provisions and other articles that he believes will benefit him and his companion should they seek the company of the natives. Aside from “flinty bits of biscuit” and tobacco, Tommo packs a few yards of cotton cloth with which he intends to “purchase the good-will of the natives” (36). Throughout Typee, and several of Melville’s other works including his novel White Jacket, cloth becomes an essential means for identification. In White Jacket, the narrator constructs a sailor’s coat from cloth that does nothing but absorb the water it is intended to repel, but because the narrator is so immersed in the desire to remain in uniform, he continues to wear the jacket. The cloth with which the controversial garment is fabricated essentially absorbs the crew’s prejudice and superstition, and the narrator, instead of being associated as a sailor, is associated only with his coat which defies the norms of dress aboard the vessel. The narrator, who is eventually referred to as White

Jacket, becomes nearly interchangeable with the sailor’s jacket he has created. This identification with corporeal adornment is a theme which shares its roots in Typee as

Tommo is associated with the cloth he uses to barter information.

Cloth is an essential symbol throughout the bulk of Melville’s works because it represents potentiality much like the paper painstakingly created by the women in “The

Maids of Tartarus” which will soon accommodate the words written by the men in “The

Paradise of Bachelors.” The maids remain cloistered in order to man the great societal

41 “machine” and to produce a more leisurely life for the scholarly bachelors. Though they themselves are banned from the “ancient” library that they so dutifully stock with absurd amounts of paper, the maids fulfill the sole purpose of enabling the betterment of mankind through scholarly pursuits, and the metaphor of blank paper as potentiality continues. Melville’s fascination with the potentiality of blank canvass continues in chapter forty-two of Moby Dick. Entitled “The Whiteness of the Whale,” chapter forty- two begins the metaphorical rendering of the mythical white whale, who, likened to a stark white canvass, becomes a background onto which every sailor’s fears—whether religious, empirical, or even sexual— are projected. After cataloging everything “white” epitomizes, Ishmael states “And of all these things the Albino Whale was the symbol…

Wonder ye then at the fiery hunt?” (283). Just as the whiteness of the whale is a blank canvass on which the ill-fated captain Ahab and his crew project their fears, blank and unaltered cloth in Typee represents the possibility of interpretation through modification and eventual wear. As for the cloth when it has been suited to the wearer, the language of the body, most specifically the body of the wearer and his place within society, is written within its folds.

Realizing that he, too, will be a curiosity, Tommo packs two rolls of Tappa in order to placate the interests of the tribe. When Tommo and Toby approach two native youths, Tommo throws the cotton cloth around their shoulders in order to demonstrate esteem and to offer an exchange for information regarding the tribe. This gesture, however, does not purchase the trust of the two who merely regard them with apprehension as they take them to their tribal leader. It is not until his gift of cloth fails to acquire the good will of the natives that Tommo realizes he has become involved in a

42 culture in which it is not Tommo’s goods, but rather, Tommo’s body, that gains the interest of the tribe. In a section entitled “Slight Intercourse with Europeans,” Tommo

and Toby are then persuaded by some sense of decorum or duty to present their bodies as

fulfillment of Typee interest. As the Typee inspect Tommo and Toby “much in the same

way that a silk mercer would handle a remarkably fine piece of satin,” it becomes

increasingly evident that the two have become enmeshed in a society that places no

intrinsic value on commodity and that it is their flesh—and most importantly, its

blankness—that entices the interest of the “cannibals” (74).

As the Typee tribesmen digest the whiteness of Tommo and Toby’s limbs—much

like a blank canvass to the tattooed Typees—the dynamic of cultural exchange transforms

from mere inquisitiveness to a metaphorical act of cannibalism in which the bodies of both parties satiate the other’s curiosity. Tommo’s possessions are then replaced by his flesh as an object of trade and interpretation as he becomes both metaphorical and physical property of the Typee tribe—essentially, the conqueror becomes the conquered and his imperialist motive is then reflected back upon him.

The Typee find the whiteness of Tommo and Toby’s flesh intriguing because of the stark contrast to their own tanned and tattooed skin. Perhaps the most striking feature of Typee culture, and the feature which no doubt attracted Melville and scores of other

European and American sailors, is the predominance of the Typee’s full-body tattoos.

Tattoos, for the Marquesans, were a narrative that told the story of the individual’s life,

and though the tattoos themselves are well represented throughout the novel, the process

of tattooing is only mentioned once. In a humorous account of the process, Tommo

recounts his initial reaction toward being permanently marked by the natives:

43 I beheld a man extended flat upon his back on the ground, and despite the forced composure of his countenance, it was evident that he was suffering agony. His tormentor bent over him, working away for all the world like a stonecutter with mallet an chisel. In one hand he held a short, slender stick, pointed with a shark’s tooth, on the upright end of which he tapped with a small hammer-like piece of wood, thus puncturing the skin and charging it with the colouring matter (75).

What Tommo witnesses, and nearly becomes a part of, is traditional tribal tattooing

which only took place following a major event in one’s life. The application of the tattoos

is a fascinating yet frightening practice to Tommo, who, after witnessing several minutes

of the process, struggles to free himself from the artist and the emphatic Kory-Kory. Not

only does Tommo fear the pain of the tattooing, which he implies must be agonizing, he

fears his inability to “face” his fellow ‘civilized’ man again (73). A tattooed Tommo, living within the Typee tribe, is part of the cultural narrative of the island; however, a tattooed Tommo, removed from the tribe and placed in the West, where tattooing resides outside the norms of cultural standards of beauty, would place him outside of his own cultural sphere; thus, fearful of being literally and figuratively “defaced” and permanently marked, Tommo flees. It is not the pain or permanence which frightens Tommo, but the fact that he will be inscribed by the Typee culture and ostracized if and when he returns home.

Though foreign, and perhaps to some, frightening, the tattoos inscribed on the bodies of the natives exhibit symbols that are familiar to the Westerners who visited the island, and it is through the understanding of these symbols that Tommo is able to communicate with the Typee and figuratively consume their culture. Willowdean Handy, a cultural anthropologist and author, traversed the Marquesan islands on foot in order to document the various tattoo patterns traditionally associated with each tribe. Throughout

44 her travels, Handy documented forty different patterns that were applied to the bodies in variations depending on the individual (Gilbert 59). Because the standard tribal patterns are applied in variations on the individual, the Marquesan tattooing represents both the tribal and the individual narrative, and because they are part of the corporeal text that

Tommo reads during his time on the island, Tommo relays as much information about the

Typee’s tattoos as possible because they serve as signifiers for both the entire culture and the individuals themselves.

To the 19th century audience, the most striking feature of the Marquesan tattooing would have been the presence of ink on female flesh. Flugel notes that while deformational decoration of the body exists in feminine form such as the corset, tattooing is a form of deformation that is “more characteristic of the male sex” (43). When it comes to tattoos on the female natives, Tommo is conflicted, and as much as it pains him to do so, Tommo admits that Fayaway, the model of Polynesian and Oriental beauty, is not free from the tattoos that adorn the bodies of her masculine counterparts. As Melville characterizes Fayaway, he makes no attempt to disguise her tattooed features or her adherence to her people’s customs—a credit to the accuracy of Melville’s narrative.

Beginning at the age of twelve, Marquesan girls, in the aboriginal tribes, would receive their first tattoo on their right hand signifying their emergence into “womanhood”

(French). A striking contrast to Western ideological beauty, the native women of the

Marquesas would begin tattooing their faces with tribal designs in order to signify their ascent to femininity and their social climb. Tattoos around the lips, such as Fayaway’s, signified sexuality and fertility (French). Fayaway, a far cry from the stereotypical 19th century British or American woman, is the vision of aboriginal ‘savage’ beauty and is

45 distinct, and no less readable, than her Western counterpart who would have donned a

corset in order to communicate ideas about her own feminine form. As opposed to

utilizing corsets, bustles and crinolines as a means to communicate femininity, the Typee

women use tattooing to demonstrate their womanhood and sexuality.

A strong contrast to the missionary’s wife—and of the Occidental woman in general—the Queen of Nukuheva is an example of feminine native sexuality. In an ironic inversion of the Missionary Wife’s tale, the narrative of “The Queen of Nukuheva” is a commentary on the readable sexuality of the island native women. Throughout Typee,

Tommo describes the native women as continuously nude—therefore transforming the

Marquesan islands into a nineteenth century Eden. As the narrator concludes his satire of protestant missionary work in the Marquesas, he begins the Queen’s tale in order to exemplify the stark contrast between the separate spheres of the east and west in the 19th century. The narrator’s description of the Queen’s countenance has no heir of social judgment; however, his descriptions are classical stereotypes of bawdiness to the 19th century reader. The Queen, fashioned in a knee-length scarlet red costume, reveals her tattooed legs—a symbol of ripe sexuality and fertility to the Marquesan Natives. The use of scarlet—particularly scarlet cloth—to imply sexual prowess is a predominantly

Western stereotype, and the Marquesan tattooing, though not a stereotype of the 19th

century West, is Melville’s attempt at integrating island sexuality in the West. The phallic imagery emblazoned on her legs—“two miniature Trajan’s columns”—continues the sexual text. The King of Nukuheva presents his wife to the French officers in a similar

fashion to that of the missionary as he presents his wife to the natives but with an

46 inversion of the conclusion. In a bold move, the scantily-clad Queen asserts her individuality and bares her bottom half to the French officers:

“She hung over the fellow, caressing him, and expressing her delight in a variety of wild exclamations and gestures. The embarrassment of the polite Gauls at such an unlooked-for occurrence may be easily imagined; but picture their consternation, when all at once the royal lady, eager to display the hieroglyphics on her own sweet form, bent forward for a moment, and turning sharply round, threw up the skirts of her mantle, and revealed a sight from which the aghast Frenchmen retreated precipitately, and tumbling into their boat, left the scene of so shocking a catastrophe” (8). These introductions are a symbolic representation of the initial contact between these two

distinct cultural spheres. The French officers are shocked, because the queen’s actions

and her behavior resides outside of the norms of modesty they are accustomed to. But

because of the symbols inscribed on her corporeal text, they correctly read her body as a

representation of sexuality. The tattoos not only represent the Queen’s individual

sexuality, but it also represents the sexuality inherent in all of the native women. This

passage demonstrates the readability of the cultural and individual text in the Orient

which is a contrast to the idea of illegibility stemming from “utilitarian” or unreadable

native dress.

The typical Typee man, just as his female counterpart, has tattoos that signify his

age and personal standing within the tribe. Tattoo historian Henk Schiffmacher states: “A

tattoo raises questions that do not so much concern the technique but rather the meaning

and purpose of the tattoo. The latter is the most important aspect of the subject” (6).

Schiffmacher’s assessment is readily applicable to the Typee tattoos because they are

applied to physically manifest the history of the individual. Though the tattoos

themselves are part of the tribal narrative, the individual narrative is indicated by the

placement and repetition of the standard tattoo patterns. When he is introduced to his 47 “body servant” Kory-Kory, Tommo is immediately interested in his tattoos and begins to

interpret them from his Western perspective:

“Kory-Kory, though the most devoted and best natured serving-man in the world, was, alas! A hideous object to look upon…the entire body of my savage valet, [was] covered all over with representations of birds and fishes, and a variety of most unaccountable-looking creature, [which] suggested to me the idea of a pictorial museum of natural history, or an illustrated copy of ‘Goldsmith’s Animated Nature’(83).

Tommo uses a Western almanac in his interpretation of Kory-Kory’s tattoos because it is a familiar reference for him, though the tattoos really relate Kory-Kory’s narrative. While

Tommo is repulsed by Kory-Kory’s initial appearance, he feels obliged to directly address Kory-Kory in an apology for his reaction: “Kory-Kory, I mean thee no harm in what I say in regard to thy outward adornings; but they were a little curious to my unaccustomed sight, and therefore I dilate upon them (83). Kory-Kory’s flesh is readable because of his tattooing, and it is through this tattooing that Tommo begins to know

Kory-Kory. Just as the patterns around the lips of the Typee women delineated their advent into sexuality, the depiction of birds and animals is a reminder of the native fauna of the Marquesan islands and a depiction of Kory-Kory’s competence as a hunter.

Because they are a variation of the same patterns, the animals depicted on Kory-Kory serve the same purpose as the tattoos imprinted on the flesh of the Typee warriors.

Tommo first encounters these aged native warriors in an isolated hut when he is led there by the tribal leader, Mehevi. Proud of his warriors, Mehevi requires Tommo to spend several hours in their company. Tommo’s first reaction to the warriors is the same as his initial reaction to his beloved Kory-Kory:

“As we advanced further along the building, we were struck with the aspect of four or five hideous old wretches, on whose decrepit form time

48 and tattooing seemed to have obliterated every trace of humanity….Their skin had a frightful scaly appearance, which, united with its singular color, made their limbs not a little resemble dusty specimens of Verde-antique. Their flesh, in parts, hung upon them in huge folds like the overlapping plaits on the flank of a rhinoceros (92).

The warriors are without any “trace” of humanity, and Tommo is alarmed by the

tattooing that masks their bodies as depictions of battle—much like the adornment of medals and regalia present on a Western military uniform—and riddles their flesh while creating a uniformed suit of green ink. Unlike Kory-Kory, whose tattoos are readable, the warriors completely covered and illegible, but these warriors are likened to Kory-Kory, whose tattoos serve as a personal narrative. Though their text is illegible, the warriors’ bodies are completely covered as a result of their long, full lives, and the tattooing represents the warriors’ personal narratives as well as the tribal narrative because their extensive tattooing represents their personal victories and a history of the battles between the tribe and its neighboring tribes. This suit, though literally indecipherable, is readable because the predominance of the ink represents the many battles both heroic and personal. Like the Typee women, these warriors have had their share of “coming of age” rituals, and their tattoos are the visual result.

It is through this semiotic interpretation, and not through verbal means of communication, that Tommo becomes familiar with the Typee and their customs and is able to return to the Occident with a better understanding of the tribe. Tommo’s interpretation of the Typee culture is evidence to the fact that though the customs of the tribe were determined by the West to be primarily instinctive and bearing no literary or narrative motivations, their tattooing reveals just as much narrative purpose as 19th century Occidental attire.

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