Annal 62: Tale from Monster in the Basement

Blast you, Christian Victorian romance novels I read as a child!!!! 

Okay, I feel somewhat better now that I have gotten that out of my system. 

I am taking a Victorian Literature course this semester, and yesterday was the lecture where we are given an introduction to life in Victorian England, specifically gender roles as that is what the course will be dealing with.  Growing up I read Christian romances from just about every era, but I always wanted to live among the Victorians.  Beautiful gowns, balls, walks through gardens, afternoon teas... does it not sound simply delicious?  Alas, my bubble was burst last night.

Did you know that Victorian women were supposed to fit the idea of the "Angel in the House"?  They were supposed to never leave the home, but also do nothing productive beyond sewing, embroidering, and some reading.  Too much reading of intellectual works would render you too intelligent, while too much reading of scandalous works would leave you open to the temptations of the world.  You didn't cook or take care of your own children, and you never left the house unaccompanied.  In fact, you didn't even own a key to your own house.  When you did receive visitors, they were only allowed to stay for fifteen minutes, and you must never discuss anything controversial or philosophical.  All must be perfectly shallow.  Your job was to symbolize all that is pure and to remain untainted by the world.  This was because your husband was the provider.  In order to prove himself a true, Victorian male, he had to be able to go out in the world, live tainted by it, and provide for his family.  He needed his wife to remain pure so that she would anchor him to all that was good.

I don't think I would make a very good Victorian woman.  I like children (hence teaching), I enjoy baking and cooking (when mine and my sister's somewhat limited resources allow for it), and I definitely enjoy having a key to our home so that I can take off whenever I want.  I cross-stitch, but that is the extent of my sewing, and think I would go absolutely batty if I was expected to live my life in complete seclusion.  I have this horrible feeling that I would become the "Monster in the Basement" which Victorian society lived in such fear of.  This would be a woman that no one knew what to do with.

All this being said, it is probably a good thing I don't fit the Victorian ideal as I really wouldn't want to marry the ideal Victorian man either.  You know the saying "stiff upper lip"?  Yeah, that pretty much summarizes how men were supposed to live.  They were to show no emotion but to always portray a face of pure calm.  Nothing was to faze them.  Words and expression are somewhat important to me (I keep a blog... I figure this makes sense).  I have a really hard time if I don't know what another person is thinking, especially if I can tell that they are feeling off.  Stoicism doesn't really do it for me; I can't say as I find it very attractive.  Communicators?  Yeah, that's hot (at least for me).To be with someone who never talked, who never shared what was going on in their mind and their heart would drive me insane. 

Did I mention that insanity is another characteristic of women who would have been seen as monsters?

The moral of this tale?  Some Christian writers, especially those who do historical fiction, really need to make sure they research more than just clothing styles and the odd social custom when writing books.  Otherwise you have have girls, like me, who grow up engrossed in this romantic ideal that never fully existed.  So while my view of Victorian England has crumbled around me, at least I have realized that it was a good thing I never lived then, as I would have never belonged.

Side note:  there is a street near my home called Rochester Crescent.  Coincidence?  I think not!

Such is the life of a Christian single.