Next Stop: Needle Lace.
Jul. 2nd, 2025 02:51 pm![[syndicated profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/feed.png)
The Lengberg Cap with Sprang (which, by the way, has been nicely published, and you can find the article here) has the usual features of lots of medieval headwear: White linen and surprisingly narrow hems. In this case, it also features the sprang panel, and also...needle lace. The needle lace connects the ties to the main part, and also is an embellishment of the front of the cap - so after hemming the individual pieces, and whip-stitching in the sprang panels, the next step will be making some needle lace. Fortunately, the patterns are rather simple, and the originals don't have the same pattern on both sides of the tie connections, so I can go astray a little bit and it won't be too bad. Meanwhile, that's the sprang panel seen from above, on a dark styrofoam head.
Nothing Much to See Here
Jul. 2nd, 2025 03:14 pm![[syndicated profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/feed.png)
This is just a placeholder for a cross-reference. Go about your business.
Garber, Linda. 2015. “Claiming Lesbian History: The Romance Between Fact and Fiction” in Journal of Lesbian Studies, 19(1), 129-49.
This is an early and much simpler version of the content in Garber 2022 to which I direct the reader.
When You See It, You Can't Unsee It
Jul. 1st, 2025 04:18 pm![[syndicated profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/feed.png)
There's an entire genre of articles on the theme "why is it so hard to find historic evidence for female same-sex relations?" It covers everything from the types of erasures and displacements that Faderman talks about in this article, to the deliberate and selective exclusion of f/f vocabulary from the Oxford English DIctionary (which continues the process of erasure to this day, as people relying on it to be complete and detailed). Time after time you get slapped in the face with the understanding that f/f relations were erased because people considered them shameful and embarrassing. Not even necessarily the people engaged in them! But their biographers, their descendents (who controled their legacy), and most historians up through the late 20th century. If a woman was considered otherwise admirable and praiseworthy, it was important to make sure that nothing "stained" that. And, of course, we can't ignore the contribution of general misogyny, because as we all know a woman must be perfect and of unstained reputation to avoid getting torn down for daring to be a woman in public. But one of the things that Faderman's work points out, is that much of the overt erasure is specifically a product of the post-sexological world.
This is an error that creeps into a great deal of sapphic historical fiction: characters are concerned about aspects of their relationships that actual people of the period would not have blinked at. Sharing a bed? No biggie. Kissing, embracing, and holding hands in public? Utterly normal. Writing love poetry and effusive declarations of affection? But of course! And yet so many current sapphic historicals have characters freaking out over things that their historic counterparts would have taken for granted as, not simply acceptable, but expected behavior. A romance novel requires conflict and roadblocks, but they should be ones that are true to the era, not ones borrowed from the 20th century.
Faderman, Lillian. 1979. “Who Hid Lesbian History?” in Frontiers: A Journal of Women Studies, Autumn 1979, Vol. 4, No 3. 74-76. Also appears 1982 in Lesbian Studies; Present and Future ed. Margaret Cruikshank. Feminist Press, Old Westbury.
This article is essentially a teaser for Surpassing the Love of Men (which she explicitly says in the author’s note at the end). Given that, I’m not sure how much value there is to blogging it in detail.
The article starts by reviewing how lesbian aspects of history were being treated before the 1970s, with those aspects either ignored, discussed in coded language, or arbitrarily assigned to some random man. Biographies of women in homoerotic relationships were a particular subject of historical gatekeeping, with even explicit romantic and erotic expressions directed toward other women being forcibly re-interpreted as actually meant to be understood as heterosexual, even if some unnamed hypothetical man needed to be invented to assign the role to.
Another technique was the careful editing of quotations (as was done in Martha Dickinson Bianchi’s edition of Emily Dickinson’s papers) to soften or redirect homoerotic language. Or the relabeling of romantic partners as “companions,” sometimes explicitly for the purpose of “saving” their reputation, even in contexts where illicit affairs with men were acknowledged blatantly. When unavoidable, same-sex relationships may be shrunk down to a brief mention while any possible scrap of evidence for heterosexual relations is elaborated in detail.
Anyway, this is basically a well-deserved rant against the historical erasure of lesbianism which may feel obvious and unnecessary 45 years later.
Ah, Symmetry.
Jul. 1st, 2025 02:19 pm![[syndicated profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/feed.png)
Symmetry is a, ah, well. Let's say that in the textile world... I think it's special. Most of the things that we do, our basis is... yarn. Spun yarn. And now you probably already know where I'm going at: As soon as there's twist involved, or diagonals, there is no such thing as true symmetry. The twist in the yarn will always influence looks and behaviour of your piece. In sprang, there's an additional element, because it's inherently symmetric - you are braiding on stretched threads, thus everything you do adds to your fabric twice, once on top and once on the bottom of the frame. Only... in the opposite direction. Which means you have the basic difference you get when you work with the same yarn in different diagonals. Plus then you have the effect that you can place a heavy weaving swor...
And... next step done.
Jun. 30th, 2025 03:16 pm![[syndicated profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/feed.png)
The sprang caps are progressing - the sprang middle part is finished, and is currently drying after getting a little soak. Pictures will follow tomorrow - and then, once it's dry, I can start on getting the first of the sprang panels stitched into the cap parts. It's always very nice and exciting when something like this comes together!
Are We Proud Yet?
Jun. 30th, 2025 03:15 pm![[syndicated profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/feed.png)
I like setting myself little challenges for the Project to keep up my momentum and to avoid the sense that it's become an endless march from one random publication to the next. Thus, I alternate between thematic groupings and simply working my way through what's left in a folder or on a shelf. Doing an "every day" push for Pride Month helps kick-start me out of a period of distraction where other projects take priority. At this point, I have enough written up to continue posting every day into mid-July. And given what I know of my work habits, I'll probably do just that , though I'll probably slow down a little once I get caught up.
As you might notice from some of the briefer summaries I'm posting currently, in going for a somewhat content-neutral completeness goal, I'm now finding myself encountering a fair number of articles that are preliminary versions of material I've covered in book form, or articles that are more "popular" presentations of material where I've already covered the scholarly version. The Project, of course, has multiple functions. Foremost is the incentive for me to read and digest the information. Secondly is the purpose of presenting a summary for a non-academic audience. But one additional purpose is to give readers a chance to figure out whether they want to track down the original publications to do a deeper dive on their own. And for that purpose, summarizing an article as "this ended up being chapter 3 in book X" or "this material is covered in much greater detail in article Y" or "this is badly outdated and you might want to read Z instead" might help someone else map out their own research more efficiently.
Besides which, with over a thousand titles in my database, I can't always remember what I've already read and blogged! So including everything with any potential relevance that I've looked at means I don't find myself duplicating work on items that I concluded--at some point--weren't all that interesting. One step in working on each entry is reviewing the notes and references to find new publications to add to the database. I regularly find myself thinking, "Oh yeah, that's going to be interesting! Oh...wait...not only is it already on the list, but I've already read it!"
Cleves, Rachel Hope. “Six Ways of Looking at a Trans Man? The Life of Frank Shimer (1826-1901).” Journal of the History of Sexuality, vol. 27, no. 1, 2018, pp. 32–62.
This article uses the lens of one particular well-documented life in the 19th century to track the shifting images and understandings of female masculinity during that era, and perhaps incidentally to comment on the general environment of shifting understandings of gender and sexuality that continue up to the present. One of the points being made is that for modern people to try to pin down one specific label or category for a historic person undermines the variable ways in which that person themself may have reported their own understanding.
Frances “Frank” Ann Wood Shimer grew up in New York, became an educator including founding and leading a college, and eventually retired to Florida and helped start the citrus industry there. Throughout this life, Frank (her preferred version of her name) used a variety of information sources to develop, shape, and revise her understanding of her identity. [Note: The author of the article uses female pronouns because, despite expressing various aspects of masculinity, Shimer identified her accomplishments as those of a woman who was proud to serve as an example of what women could achieve.) Cleves has identified five successive frameworks: “didactic literature, romantic friendship, phrenology, pioneer chronicles, and sexology.” The title of the article is a deliberate homage to Henry Louis Gates Jr.’s book Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Black Man, which itself plays off the Wallace Stevens poem “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird.”
The first stage draws on literature aimed at children to instruct them in the dangers of cross-gender behavior and presentation. This was a genre that developed in the early 19th century in support of changing views of gender roles and the tacit recognition that those roles were not “natural” but must be trained into children. This literature established the parameters that girls should be modest, quiet, and non-athletic, whereas boys were expected to be loud, boisterous, athletic, and competitive. Shimer’s school essays reflect these models, depicting a domestic life as desirable, but at the same time rebelling against expectations by insisting on using the name Frank, rather than Frances, which was treated as a “youthful mistake.”
The articles discusses several typical stories of the type used for gender indoctrination and speculates that Shimer would likely have been familiar with them and that they might have shaped her later recollections of her childhood, such as a disinterest in playing with dolls, a love of outdoor activities, and a tendency to disruptive behavior in school. Like the “boyish girls” in the morality tales, Shimer occasionally cross-dressed as a child to engage in work that earned her enough to pay for her own advanced schooling. Unlike the girls in books, she never “learned her lesson” and retreated to feminine behavior.
At normal school, training to become a teacher, Shimer became part of the culture of romantic same-gender friendships common to single-sex schools. Although the particular institution she attended was co-educational, socializing was mostly gender-segregated. Close relationships with fellow female students are recorded in her “friendship album” (a type of scrapbook and public journal popular at the time). These include exchanges of poetry with Cindarella Gregory, using the conventional romantic language of such friendships, often drawn from popular poetry copied from magazines. Shimer was hardly alone in using a male-coded nickname when engaging in romantic friendships, though perhaps more unusual in using it as a regular thing, rather than only in the context of particular relationships. Male nicknames between intimate friends were a part of the culture of romantic friendship. Cleves speculates that her more general use of a male-coded name may have served as a signal of her deeper romantic interest in women. [Note: As in her book Charity and Sylvia, Cleves is given to phrasing speculations in a way that can become tricky to distinguish from evidence-based conclusions. “The [name]…may have signaled…suggests that…”]
After graduation separated them, the relationship with Cindarella Gregory was sufficiently intense that Shimer strategized to get both of them teaching in the same location, while worrying that she might be hampering Gregory’s career in the process. But the opportunity came when Shimer was asked to help found a seminary on the frontier in Illinois and was able to bring Gregory in as one of the teachers. They shared a household and bed for the next two decades, even after Shimer married—though evidently the marriage was to stave off rumors about a possible male romance, not about her arrangement with Gregory. The two Shimers never cohabited (he immediately left for medical school) and there is no indication that it was anything but a marriage of convenience. However when Gregory married, it caused a break between the two women. Later, Shimer found a new female partner in Adelia C. Joy and that relationship lasted until her death. Photographic portraits of Shimer with each of her partners follow the artistic conventions for married couples, with Shimer filling the pose normally taken by a husband.
Shimer’s interest in science and medicine led her into a third framework, which Cleves identifies as phrenology, but is a bit broader than that. [Note: Technically, phrenology concerns itself with the shape of the skull, but the theories here involve various physical variations and their supposed relationship to personality and intellect. The field also overlaps somewhat with eugenics and can go to bad places.] Shimer had invited a famous phrenologist to present lectures at her school and was particularly interested supposed gender differences expressed via phrenology. Shimer’s own analysis concluded she “had a larger and more powerful brain than the majority of men.” Shimer notes her reaction to the claim that she was “cut out for a man” as being “Not so very flattering either I don’t think.” Phrenology offered the possibility that gender-coded traits could instead by interpreted as physiology-linked traits, such that women could make positive claims to male-coded traits such as intelligence, leadership, and assertiveness without becoming men.
Cleves once again moves into speculation, saying that phrenology “may also have provided Shimer with a context for understanding another quality connected to her masculinity: her desire for intimacies with women.” Some theories based in phrenology relating to same-sex attraction are discussed. Then we get another sequence of “likely..may have…could be read…may have read.” While I admire the lengths Cleves goes to in providing historic and cultural background for her subjects, I get very frustrated when the connections she makes between the two are all framed in speculative language.
The next context for Shimer’s understanding of female masculinity comes through heroic traditions of female pioneers whose lives and actions contrasted greatly with the new models of femininity that emphasized passivity and domesticity. Pioneer women were celebrated for physical prowess and courage. [Note: Somewhat unfortunately, these narratives also existed with a tradition of erasing Native Americans from the historic present, and valorizing the white settlers as being a new foundation of history.] Shimer, in her memoirs, leveraged this tradition both by emphasizing her own “frontier” role in establishing the Illinois academy, but also harking back to a namesake and relative who was part of a prominent “kidnapped by natives” story and became a powerful presence within the Miami Nation. Despite the problematic aspects, the “frontier heroine” tradition provided a context for praising women for male-coded attributes and for positing that all women had the potential to be strong and self-reliant, thus redefining womanhood. Shimer’s work in establishing what would later be renamed the Frances Shimer Academy was constantly praised in gendered terms, noting that she “did the work of two men” and that it had been established with “no man’s aid.”
By the time Shimer retired to Florida (retired from teaching, but not from continued enterprise!), sexology was becoming better known in popular reception. The work of people like Krafft-Ebing reanalyzed the culture of romantic friendship and the lesbian encounters of students and teachers at single-sex academies as being pathological. Educated and economically independent “new women” were another target for psychoanalysis. Shimer pushed back against this framing in magazine essays, praising educated women and arguing that their critics were over-reacting and “hysterical” (using the term advisedly, in contradiction of its usual gendered implications). Although she rejected negative framings of female masculinity, Cleves suggests that in writing her memoirs, Shimer used the format and tropes of “invert” case studies to describe her own life and experiences as reflecting an innate masculinity. (Though her memoir is very vague on the subject of her romantic relationships.)
The concluding section of the articles discusses the value of viewing Shimer’s life history through the lens of trans studies, regardless of whether one considers her to fall within the category of transgender.
Guest Appearance: Wizards vs Lesbians
Jun. 29th, 2025 06:52 pm![[syndicated profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/feed.png)
There is this delightful literary review podcast which is simultaneously zany and intellectual, Wizards vs Lesbians, on which I made a guest appearance this week. We discuss Kate Heartfield's medieval fantasy The Chatelaine.
(Note: I'd been listening to the podcast for over a year when they decided to tackle Daughter of Mystery. When I saw that in the lineup I had a moment of "Oh crap, I should be a good girl and just delete the episode and not listen to it, because it's Not For Me." Well, I'm weak, so it's a good thing they liked the book, because their tastes only align with mine about half the time. But I pretty much agreed with everything they said, so I escaped any tragic consequences for my transgression. If you want to listen to that episode, it's here. If, unlike me, you disagree with their opinions on the book, please please please just keep it to yourself, because I don't want to be That Author.)
How Out Do You Need to Be to Count?
Jun. 29th, 2025 05:15 pm![[syndicated profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/feed.png)
In the group of articles I've been reading lately, there are two interesting meta-topics: scholars talking about the process of research and their relationship to their subjects, and philosophical questions about the nature of "romantic friendship." I have some thoughts on the latter, which I'll put in the comments that display with the entry itself.
VanHaitsma, Pamela. 2019. “Stories of Straightening Up: Reading Femmes in the Archives of Romantic Friendship” in QED: A Journal in GLBTQ Worldmaking, Vol. 6, No. 3:1-24
Debates over the relationship of "romantic friendship" and "lesbianism" tend to feel rather personal for me. As someone who identifies equally strongly as a lesbian and as asexual, the scholars who get hung up over the question of "did they engage in something we would classify as sexual activity?" feel like I'm being erased from history. At the same time, I solidly support the position that not all women who participated in romantic friendships, if trasported to the present time and given the current cultural background, would identify as lesbian. But I resist the notion that the key factor is sex. And that rather doubles down on the "we can't ever know" position that gets sneered at a lot by my contemporaries.
My personal take is that we should separate out the concepts of "romantic friendship" (and "Boston marriage" and all the other related concepts) from the concept of "lesbian even if they didn't use that word or an equivalent." For me, they are overlapping but independent historical concepts. A romantic friendship is certainly a context in which erotic relations could easily have occurred without leaving a documentary trace. The lack of a documentary trace is not proof that the women involved were heterosexual, any more than the lack of documentary evidence for opposite-sex erotic relations for those same women is proof of homosexuality. But whether or not they engaged in sex is, for me, a separate question from whehter they lived lives that I identify with as being lesbian. (I won't fall back on Bennett's "lesbian-like" label, because Bennett's category by definition would include all romantic friendships.) At the same time, I acknowledge the importance of sexual activity as part of what constructs the fuzzy, complicated, contested category that is the thing we study when engage in "lesbian history." So in a way, I'm simultaneously saying, "Yes, sex matters, but sex doesn't matter."
Because I have a background in cognitive category theory, this isn't a problem for me. It's the same thing as saying, "Yes, flight is a key characteristic of the category 'bird' but there are many birds that do not fly and they are still birds." Maybe some romantic friends are penguins. Maybe some are fledglings. Maybe some had a broken wing that healed badly. And maybe some are bats. My metaphor is getting away from me. I just wish that the debates over this topic spent less effort on the subtext that I'm not a real lesbian. The present paper--though it's inspired by thoughts around lesbian invisibility--doesn't entirely escape that message.
# # #
The central topic of this article is “femme invisibility” when researching queer women’s lives in archival material. The difficulty in identifying and researching historic persons who “read straight” due to conforming to gender expectations is paralleled by the author’s experiences as a femme (i.e., straight-passing) queer woman who repeatedly found herself calculating the risks of coming out to archival personnel who could potentially gate-keep access to material based on attitudes toward the type of research being done.
The specific project the author was pursuing involved archival materials related to two white women from 19th century Virginia (Irene Leache and Anna Wood) who shared lives and careers and described their relationship as an “opulent friendship.”
The larger part of the article concerns the author’s interactions with archives: the ways that indexing practices and selective creation of metadata shape the types of research that are enabled, the types of assumptions (warranted or not) that both sides may make about the other’s motives and prejudices, and the pressures on queer researchers to self-censor the nature of their projects when applying for funding, proposing projects, and strategizing for career success. Even when there is no animosity involved, the pressure to avoid anachronistic identity labels in the indexing process works to erase evidence of queer lives.
Just as the coming-out process can involve reading subtle signs of potential reception, the author was concerned about approaching archival material when the existing expert on the subject had described the two woman as “celibate lovers” and rejected the possibility that they had anything but “the purist alliance”—framings that the author read as indicating hostility to a potential lesbian framing of their relationship. At the same time, the author notes that stereotypes of archivists as hostile gatekeepers are just as dangerous to good relations with historians of all types.
Skipping past the author’s biographical musings, this process of reflexively “straightening” one’s presentation can be a confounding factor in researching the lives of romantic friends. Early historians of romantic friendship tended to emphasize that the romantic aspects were conventional, sentimental, and devoid of any erotic aspect. Whereas more recent scholarship has complicated the subject by identifying a wide range of relationships with more variable reception from their contemporaries. As a gross oversimplification, historians see what they’ve been trained to see in the data, just as contemporary people have been led to believe that “you can always tell” a lesbian by her gender performance.
Returning to the evidence for Leache and Wood’s sexuality, the author notes that—contrary to some assertions that 19th century women would be ignorant of lesbian possibility and therefore would not recognize it in themselves—these women discuss an artistic depiction of Sappho, identifying a “blending of the intellectual and the passionate,” discuss woman-woman love in Greek myth (as well as man-man love), and compare their own relationship to that of Ponsonby and Butler.
While none of this is proof of any specific reading of their sexuality, it offers a context in which they could have had models for a more erotic understanding of romantic friendship, even if they never recorded specific evidence for posterity. The author discusses the potential for 19th century women who did have erotic relationships to use the commonly accepted understanding of romantic friendships as non-sexual as cover for relationships that didn’t fit the non-sexual model. Such a strategy need not have been purely pragmatic, but could partake of its own pleasure in having a secret that the world didn’t share.
In the end, other that some tantalizing details of Leache and Wood’s lives, this article is more about the process of research than about history itself, but it speaks to shifting fashions in historic interpretation and the dangers of taking surface presentations for granted.
Pride Secrets
Jun. 29th, 2025 12:05 am![[syndicated profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/feed.png)


































These Pride secrets have been displayed at many venues over the years, including a PostSecret exhibition in the White House.










The post Pride Secrets appeared first on PostSecret.
Help Needed
Jun. 29th, 2025 12:04 am![[syndicated profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/feed.png)
This may be the most challenging secret I have ever had to decipher. I think to understand the full confession we need to reassemble these strips. Is it possible? Could AI help? Post your ideas and solutions here. Thanks!






The post Help Needed appeared first on PostSecret.
Romantic Friendships and the "Sex Instinct"
Jun. 29th, 2025 12:11 am![[syndicated profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/feed.png)
As noted previously, the number of the entries is going to get a bit weird for a bit. But since I don't expect that much of anyone besides me pays attention to the numbering, this is no big deal. The most relevant part is that I've identified which article I want to slot into #500, so now I have to keep track of that as I fill in what comes before.
Martin, Sylvia. 1994. “'These Walls of Flesh': The Problem of the Body in the Romantic Friendship/Lesbianism Debate” in Historical Reflections / Réflexions Historiques, Vol. 20, No. 2, Lesbian Histories: 243-266
Martin uses the writings of early 20th c Australian poet Mary Fullerton, and in particular numerous poems related to her long-term relationship with Mabel Singleton, to explore the debate among historians around the question of romantic friendship and lesbian sexuality. [Note: Fullerton was born in 1868 and much of the discussion concerns solidly 19th century topics, so I consider the article in-scope for the Project.]
Much of the article reviews and discusses the evolving scholarship around the intersection of female friendship and lesbian history, which she refers to as the “romantic friendship versus lesbianism debate.” This debate has played out in works such as:
- Smith-Rosenberg 1975
- Rich 1908
- Faderman 1981
- Moore 1992
- Newton 1984
- Stanley, L. 1992. “Romantic Friendship? Some Issues in Researching Lesbian History and Biography” in Women’s History Review, 1, 2: 193-216. (Not blogged yet)
Much of the tension has derived from the competing programs of valorizing women’s social (but non-sexual) bonds in the face of patriarchal framings that view relationships between women of any type as being inherently less relevant than the relationships to men, and the work of historians of lesbian history who view the active “unsexualization” of romantic friendships as queer erasure deriving from a discomfort with the idea that sex might sully the “purity” of those friendships. Even concepts such as Adrienne Rich’s “lesbian continuum” can be seen as downplaying an essential difference between sexual and non-sexual relationships in a way that undermines the meaningfulness of the category “lesbian.”
On the one side, we have positions such as Faderman and Smith-Rosenberg who argue that romantic friendships must have been inherently non-sexual because women were socialized to consider themselves non-sexual beings, and besides which romantic friendships couldn’t have been social acceptable (as they were) if there were anything sexual about them, plus nobody was a lesbian until the sexologists invented the concept. On the other side, we have positions such as Stanley 1992 and Moore 1992 who document the policing of 18-19th century female friendships that were felt to stray into “dangerous” sexual territory, indicating that people of the time certainly acknowledged the possibility that female friendship could have a sexual component. Both poles have contributed to failures of the historical imagination: either ignoring sexual potential or over-emphasizing it.
At this point, Martin returns to her Australian poet and women with similar lives, discussing how their lives have been treated by biographers through one or the other framing, either overlooking potential support for a lesbian interpretation (or viewing incontrovertible evidence as a “problem” to be explained), or assuming sexual relations against a background of ambiguity. Martin asks the question “Why is the lesbian such a problem to theorizing friendship?” She attempts to answer that question in terms of the gendering of mind-body duality and how the “woman as body” is pushed toward an interpretation focused on motherhood and nurturing, as well as a phallocentric definition of sex that denies lesbians the ability to participate in it. Thus there is no space within these frameworks for an embodied sexuality between women that is not an imitation of some other dynamic.
Even within the field of lesbian history, there is a conflict between envisioning a “utopian” image of an era when f/f relationships could be free of the suspicion of sexuality, and a desire to define lesbianism as defined by sexual desire.
[Note: The article spends a lot of time on theorizing, which I have condensed greatly.]
Returning once more to Mary Fullerton’s life, the article looks at hear own words and finds various potential interpretations. Fullerton was a feminist and socialist activist, was proud of her unmarried state, and asserted that she lacked the “sex instinct,” while engaging in a close friendship with a woman with whom she co-habited for almost four decades. Such a self-description in such a context would seem to support interpretation of her life as a classic non-sexual romantic friendship (if somewhat behind the historic curve, as the relationship started in 1909). However further examination of her love poems complicates the question. Her expressions of passion are spiritual but also bodily. Physical interaction is the means for spiritual unity. Further, we find that her definition of “sex instinct” was tied up in procreation. For her the “sex instinct” was the animal urge that drove reproduction—a drive that was not as strong in more “evolved” individuals. [Note: We shall overlook potentially problematic interpretations of this position for the moment.] This leaves room for seeing her poetry as representing an erotic same-sex desire that she viewed as entirely separate from the “sex instinct” she denied having.
Charity and Sylvia: The End of the Story
Jun. 27th, 2025 03:42 pm![[syndicated profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/feed.png)
This finishes up Cleves' book on Charity and Sylvia. As I noted in a previous blog, the entry numbers are going to be a bit jumbled for a while, both because I'd accidentally skipped a run of numbers and because I've already assigned a number to a book that's taking some time to write up, for logistical reasons. In the mean time, I have a bunch of short articles ready to go, which will take me through the end of Pride Month, after which I won't hold myself to the "post every day" schedule. It's been a fun challenge, but I have other projects that need to move forward as well!
One "fun" project has been an in-depth statistical study of what people have nominated over the years for the Best Related Work Hugo in all of its several forms. The results show some interesting dynamic interactions between categories as people try to find places to nominate works that don't quite fit, or as types of works shift from category to category as they are reorganized and expanded. Having done some initial work on the history of the category--as well as pulling the basic nomination data--I'm now slogging through the process of looking up each nominee and coding it for format (initially, always "book", but more recently rather variable), genre (e.g., biography, reference, criticism, humor), and specific topic. I've been pointed to some previous surveys of the category that tended to focus on the winners (or at most the finalists), but I think I'll be adding something new to the field.
Cleves, Rachel Hope. 2014. Charity & Sylvia: A Same-Sex Marriage in Early America. Oxford University Press, Oxford. ISBN 978-0-19-933542-8
Chapter 19 & Afterword
Chapter 19: Sylvia Drake | W 1851
Sylvia Drake was 66 when Charity died and had not left her side for over 40 years. Family and neighbors commented on what a shock it would be for her to be on her own, with loneliness a common theme in their condolence letters. Some came close to recognizing that Sylvia was the equivalent of a widow, using that word, but she was denied the social recognition and status that widowhood normally conferred.
Sylvia lived for another 16 years, wearing mourning black. Initially, she remained in their shared home and continued their business, but after half a decade, she found herself unable to continue working at the same intensity and reduced her sewing to family only.
Eight years after Charity’s death, Sylvia moved in with her widowed brother, who needed medical care. At the age of 83, in 1868, Sylvia died. The family buried her with Charity and replaced the original headstone with one that commemorated both women.
As with so many aspects of their life, Charity and Sylvia’s wills reflected a marriage-like status, while also reflecting a more egalitarian life than m/f marriage offered. Charity left all her share in their joint property to Sylvia, and Sylvia in turn distributed her legacy equally between both their families, but with a feminist twist: largely leaving it to female relatives who were either unmarried or were poorly supported by their husbands.
The rest of the chapter uses the Drake family finances to illustrate the gendered dynamics of property law and practices at the time.
Afterword
This chapter reviews the nature of the evidence for C&S’s lives and the means by which it was preserved and kept in public awareness. Even into the mid 20h century, local tradition preserved memories of the two as a positive example of female devotion. Eventually, the tacit veil of ambiguity began to be removed and local historians began celebrating them as lesbian foremothers , after struggling against the “we can’t really know” crowd. [Note: Which included Lillian Faderman, who included them under confident assertions that early 19th century women could not possibly have imagined participating in anything more than chaste kisses.]
Finally!
Jun. 27th, 2025 02:05 pm![[syndicated profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/feed.png)
Finally! No, not only finally Friday (though that is welcome as well), but also I finally have... The Needle. Years ago now. I was shown a needle found in Lorsch (which is an early medieval monastery). The idea, straight away, was to find someone who would make these for me so I could have them in my shop. And as so often in the field, getting to the point took... longer. In that case, I think it was about 7 years. The process usually starts with getting enough information about the object (which was not the big thing in this case), then try and find someone able to do it, figure out if they are also willing to do it. Quite often, this is where you go back to square one because things don't work out due to whatever reason (don't want to do this, would do this but has no time, would do it b...