The Portrayal of Identity and Sexuality in Nineteenth-century Pornography

Emily Iwan L-SAW 2009

History 202

December 14, 2008

Despite the popular classification of the American Victorian era as a "prudish" period that repressed public discussion and representation of sexuality, a commercialized domestically produced print culture comprised of urban "sporting men's" publications, convent narratives, and cheap erotic novels flourished in the United States between the implementation of the 1842 Tariff Act and the enactment of the Comstock Act in 1873. This pornographic literature provides valuable insights into the sexuality of the era and related issues of identity and power. Commercialized nineteenth-century print pornography is a valuable, but often overlooked source for social historians studying this era as it provides a lens into the social mind of this genre's large, male audience, providing information on how this audience related power and sexuality and the influences they believed might threaten women and the status quo. The common portrayals of women, members of minority religious groups, people of the lower-class, and African Americans in the pornography domestically produced and circulated in nineteenth-century America reflected societal standards of acceptable sexual behaviors and highlighted the dominance of white males in the realm of sexuality and the power this conferred to them in the public sphere.

The portrayal of women, men, minority religious groups, class, and African Americans in this pornography demonstrates the manner in which the producers and consumers of this popular literature understood the roles of these groups in society.

While historical literature discussing sexuality and "obscenity" in nineteenth century America exists, very little scholarship has focused exclusively on erotic, commercial print materials during this period, despite the evidence of its fairly widespread existence. The historiography of nineteenth-century pornography is disjointed and scattered. Many historians have approached this subject by analyzing the treatment of erotic materials by the courts and the anti-obscenity crusades of moral reformers, such as Anthony Comstock. Some historians focus their analysis exclusively on the development and historical implications of certain genres, such as the "racy" flash press or sexualized convent novels. This historiography is lacking cohesive research which attempts to collectively analyze the meaning and historical relevance contained in the commercialized, erotic print literature holistically. This paper will attempt to fill that space.

The existing historiography most relevant to this paper is Helen Leftowitz Horowitz's analysis of nineteenth-century sexuality. Similar to this paper, Horowitz approaches this topic from the perspective of a social historian. She views economic, religious, and ideological divisions within society as having an impact on that society's perceptions and representations of sexuality. Horowitz's work attempts to "re-create the nineteenth-century's conversation about sex and sexual representation" through dividing this "conversation" into four characteristically distinct "frameworks" [1]. Horowitz's first framework, "Vernacular sexual culture" encompasses pornography, and is most relevant to this paper. Horowitz describes this framework as containing an "erotic edge" and an "earthy acceptance of sex and desire as vital part of life for men and women". She argues that this framework "has been the source of bawdy humor in America, many popular terms, and as literacy spread, numerous sexually arousing texts".[2] While Horowitz does not focus specifically on how men and women were portrayed in nineteenth-century pornography, she does provide general descriptions of portrayals of men and women in vernacular culture's depiction of sexuality that agree with observations articulated in this paper. For example, Horowitz states that in nineteenth-century vernacular culture, women's sexuality was characteristically introduced and dominated by a man and "in sexual congress, she [women] is both compliant and playful" (33). It is to be expected that similar sexual beliefs and stereotypes will be found in the pornography and vernacular culture of a period, as Horowitz argues that erotic writing originates from the vernacular culture.

The work of social historians Reynolds and Gladman provides agreement with this paper's assertion that American nineteenth-century popular fiction is valuable tool for studying the social history of era. Their research centers on nineteenth-century "city mysteries fiction", a genre which includes erotic novels. Reynolds and Gladman argue that this genre provides "a valuable source of popular conceptions of class identity and class relations in this period" and a "wealth of images of women and female sexuality as well as of a variety of ethnic groups"[3]. They provide insightful analysis of the role of gender and sexuality in writing by George Thompson, a well-known author of erotic novels and contributor to "racy newspapers" in the mid-nineteenth-century. Thompson's work is also examined in this paper. However, Reynolds and Gladman do not analyze how portrayals of sexuality in this genre is related to other pornographic literature of the period, and how this reflects conceptions of sexuality in nineteenth-century society, as this paper attempts to conclude.

Before analyzing how erotic literature fits into nineteenth-century social history, it is important to understand how this society understood and defined pornography. Pornography has been defined differently throughout various periods and cultures. Additionally, individuals from the same culture and time period often disagree over what constitutes the pornographic. According to Crane, pornography representation occurs in many medias, and "it adopts many forms and genres."[4] This paper will rely on Slade's definition of pornography as that which is "designed to arouse and give sexual pleasure to those who read, see, hear, or handle them"[5]. This definition defines pornography in such a way that can be applied regardless of time, place, and culture. The print materials examined in this paper conform to Slade's definition of pornography. It can also be determined that the materials examined in this paper were consumed by the nineteenth-century public for their erotic content, and viewed by this society as pornographic because of the numerous obscenity cases and charges which were brought upon them during the time of their original publication. Historians are generally in consensus that a domestic pornography industry began to flourish in American cities in the 1840s. However, this "pornography" was markedly different from what the American public views as pornography today. These differences exist in form, style, and through the language used by society to label, discuss, and condemn this material. In the nineteenth-century, there was no clear division between what was "erotic" and what was "obscene". Therefore, the "pornographic" was generally classified as that which was obscene. In fact, the word "pornographer" did not appear in the English language until 1850, and the noun pornography did not exist until 1857.[6]

Despite the absence of the use of the term "pornography" in the first half of the nineteenth-century, historians are in agreement that pornography most certainly existed. Horowitz states that "commercially available by the early nineteenth-century were literary works understood to have the power to arouse male readers."[7] During this period, visual pornography was, in general, too expensive to be owned or viewed by the general public and was largely held in the secret collections of wealthy individuals[8]. Therefore, the types of pornography most widely circulated and consumed were written materials in the form of novels, poems, and newspaper articles.

Because "pornographic" materials were being viewed and circulated before a clear definition of this term was in common use, nineteenth-century American courts defined these materials as obscene and attempted to restrict their circulation and convict their producers on these grounds. Courts of this era employed the "Hicklin Test" to determine obscenity. This test legally held that a complete work was obscene if any part of it tended to "deprave and corrupt those minds that might be open to immoral influences."[9] Obscenity cases aid the identification of pornographic materials because the legal definition of the obscene equated to what nineteenth-century society viewed as the pornographic.[10]

Most historians credit the Tariff Act of 1842, which banned the importation of erotic materials from abroad, as the beginning of domestic pornography industry in the United States. Prior to the nineteenth-century, almost all pornography in America was imported from Europe, but "as technologies of mass production appeared, [Americans] gradually capitalized domestic production."[11] The development of printing technology, which allowed for inexpensive, mass production of popular literature, provided the physical equipment that enabled the domestic pornography industry to produce its product. Additionally, American cities began to grow and become more densely populated during this time. The dense concentration of consumers in cities made the distribution of printed materials easier and provided profitable markets for pornographers. The 1842 Tariff Act "afforded American pornographers a degree of protectionism" and "thus assisted the establishment of an industry that would one day dominate the global market."[12]

Because this paper attempts to analyze aspects of nineteenth-century social history through the lens of this period's print pornography, it is important to note that sources in this area are limited. It is impossible to prove the accuracy of generalizations about pornography during this period because many (if not most) of these sources have been destroyed or are held in inaccessible private collections.[13] Horowitz acknowledges this small pool of materials "has created a deficit or silence that has distorted our understanding of the past," and because of this "many gaps in our knowledge remain."[14] While acknowledging the limitations of these sources, the evidence that does exist suggests certain commonalities among various types of erotic writing in terms of the characterization of women, men, class, and minority groups.

Print pornography in nineteenth-century America portrayed sexually desirable white women as passive and vulnerable. The pornographic literature at this time was commonly formatted as a seduction story: an unsuspecting young girl was kidnapped or tricked by an experienced older man who "took" her virginity. A prime example is contained in the story of Amanda Green, a New York City prostitute whose life story was given a sensationalistic and titillating description in the Sunday Flash article "Lives of the Nymphs, No. 11: Amanda Green."[15] Amanda Greene was described as a hard working, virtuous young girl, and an obedient daughter. While returning home from running errands for her mother, during a snowstorm no less, she was kidnapped by a man on a sleigh who "sprang out, clasped her in his arms, lifted her in, whistled to his horse and the next moment was flying along like mad; her complaints drowned by the clatter of the bells." Despite the danger that men posed to unsuspecting young women on the streets, as the story progressed Amanda's situation demonstrated that young women were much more vulnerable to sexual exposure in private, when alone with a man. Pornographers implied that in these situations women had no other option but passivity. For instance, once Amanda was on the swift moving sled, her captor immediately set upon her with sexual advances; he "clasped her again and again in his arms and pressed upon her unwilling (so says Amanda) lips, a thousand kisses". While Amanda was described as initially resistive of these sexual advances, her passive nature prevented her from resisting this man for very long. Before the sled had reached its final destination, but "after the proper quantum of struggling and crying", Amanda "became subdued and responded unresistingly in his arms-perhaps she found a comfort in his bear skin coat, for to say the truth the night was very cold." [16] These events indicated that Amanda (and all young, pretty, white, city girls, whom she symbolized) were vulnerable to the danger of sexual exposure if they were on the streets alone. This story reinforced the prevailing belief that the proper and safe place for women was in the home, within the confines of the realm of domesticity. Like the seduction stories printed in the flash press, young nuns in convent novels were also described as passive and vulnerable when confronted with sexual advances from white men in settings outside of the home and outside of the realm of domesticity. Additionally, in both genres women's sexual obedience to licentious men was obtained through trickery and intimidation. In Maria Monk, older nuns ("Superiors") told young initiates that a crucial part of becoming a nun was taking an oath to fulfill the sexual desires of priests. Upon entering the nunnery, Maria was informed "that one of my great duties was to obey the priests in all things; and this I soon learnt, to my utter astonishment and horror, was to live in the practice of criminal intercourse with them."[17] This behavior was not sinful, the older nuns told Maria, because priests could not sin; everything priests did was right. Maria was taught, and came to believe, that obedience to the priests in all matters, including sexual activity, would enable the nuns to attain salvation. Readers understood that "licentious priests" had gained exclusive sexual access to vulnerable nuns who meekly accepted this behavior.[18] The portrayals of sexuality in convent narratives are particularly significant because a large number of nineteenth-century Americans, both male and female, were exposed to this genre. For instance, the sexualized convent novel Maria Monk sold 300,000 copies by 1860.[19]

By characterizing women as vulnerable and passive "victims" or "captives" to male sexuality, pornography dismissed the fear that women might assert their sexuality outside of the confines of patriarchal power. The pornography of this period consistently emphasized the control maintained by men over women in all sexual situations and the resignation women exhibited to male sexual power. In Maria Monk, the narrator and heroine, Maria, implied that most of the nuns quickly acclimated to the frequent sexual activity that priests demanded of them: "When I repeated my expressions of surprise and horror, she told me that such feelings were very common at first, and that many other nuns had expressed themselves as I did, who had long since changed their minds."[20] In addition to the implication in this passage that the nuns came to enjoy their "sinful" sexual encounters, it is clear that nuns had no other option but to resign themselves to the sexual demands of the priests. Throughout erotic literature, this period the man controlled sexual situations, regardless of a woman's desires. In Amanda Greene's story, her kidnapper (Chambers) came to her "with his outer garments also cast off" almost immediately after he had brought her into his home, as his captive. When Amanda is put is put in this position, "finding herself in a strange place, with no prospect of getting home" where it was assured that intercourse would take place, "another fit of crying came on". At this point in the story Amanda was still innocent and virtuous. She still firmly adhered to the societal belief that intercourse before marriage was abhorrent and would destroy a woman's moral character and desirability. However, once a woman had submitted to a sexual indiscretion her further sexual availability to that man was guaranteed, even if that first encounter had not lead to intercourse. Previously in the story Chambers had persuaded Amanda to consent to some of his sexual advances, so he was confident that his "work is [was] done", and convincing Amanda to submit to intercourse would be relatively easy. Unsurprisingly, Chambers easily silenced Amanda, convinced her to relax by his fire, and persuaded her to drink champagne. At this point, Chambers had "conquered" Amanda who, "exhilarated by the share of a bottle of champagne…submitted without further opposition to his advances". Amanda Green's story sent the message to readers that women enjoyed sexual encounters, even when they were initially forced. While an audience today would consider Chamber's kidnapping of Amanda, getting her drunk, and persistently forcing himself upon her until she submitted, to be sexual assault or rape, any indignation felt by nineteenth-century male readers of this seduction story was overshadowed by excitement and titillation. Moreover, as the seduction happened Amanda was not described as feeling violated or injured by Chambers. In less than twenty-four hours, the kidnapped Amanda Green returned the sexual advances of her captor "with interest", consented to lose her virginity, and happily spent the night with him. After this night of sexual intimacy, "Amanda felt no inclination to return home and in accordance with her own and her lover's feelings, she resolved to abide with him for a time." The story implied that once Amanda realized the pleasure that a man could give to a woman, her passions took over, and she completely forgot about her old, virtuous life. Although this romance did not last, it served to permanently release Amanda's strong sexual nature. After a few months of "chaste" living "she fell in with a young German…and soon fell victim to his seductive arts."[21] Once Amanda was made aware of her passions she could no longer control them, which the author refers to as her "fate". Although Amanda is described towards the end of the story as a sexual, fallen woman, she is still referred to as a victim, not as inherently bad or evil. Across genres, the pornographic literature emphasized that it was the white man who brought out the sexual nature in women. Although the release of a woman's sexual nature could be interpreted as a threat to male dominance over women's sexuality, erotic literature quelled these fears by emphasizing that white women's sexuality could not exist without white men.

Sexually desirable women in nineteenth-century pornography were vulnerable to losing their virtue by becoming "victims" of male passion because they were characteristically trusting. The beautiful, young Fanny in Venus in Boston was captured by an evil, "licentious" older man determined to take her virginity. Fanny became his captive because a cruel, jealous prostitute, "Sow Nance" convinced Fanny that she knew a nice man who would purchase the fruit Fanny was trying to sell on the street at a good price. Fanny was so eager to sell her fruit so that she could bring money home to her family that she trusted Sow Nance was being truthful. In actuality, Sow Nance knew that this man, Mr. Tickels, liked to take in young virgins and make them his lovers. Sow Nance led the unsuspecting Fanny to Mr. Tickel's home for this cruel purpose, hoping to obtain compensation for delivering Fanny. A well-intentioned man, Corporal Grimsby, rescued Fanny from Mr. Tickel's before he was able to sexually assault her. Fanny originally met her hero Corporal Grimbsy because of the same overly trusting behavior that led to her to be captured by Mr. Tickels. Fanny had met Grimsby on the street while trying to sell fruit. At their initial meeting, this man said he had no money with him to buy fruit but that he would like to help her poor family. At the end of their first conversation, Fanny unhesitatingly provided this man with her home address. While Fanny's trusting nature led to her rescue it also left her particularly vulnerable to "licentious" men and sexual activity. This weakness, although endearing, left her vulnerable. Venus in Boston[22] sent the message to its readers that Fanny (and other young, sexually desirable girls like her) had no control over their sexuality because of their weak and vulnerable nature. Whether or not they would retain their virtue, was a matter of luck and circumstance.

The characteristics that made women sexually desirable and appealing also left them especially vulnerable to victimization at the hands of men. The beauty of Amanda Greene, Fanny, and the "fallen" Mary Sanders attracted the attention of licentious men, and their innocent and trusting nature left them vulnerable to seduction and capture. For instance, the author of Venus in Boston praised Fanny's beauty and youth; she was "small for her age, but exceedingly pretty; her eyes were of a dark blue—her hair a rich auburn-her features radiant with the inexpressible charm of youth and innocence."[23] However, these desirable qualities drew unwanted attention from ill-intentioned men, such as "many well-dressed libertines, young and old, who gazed with eyes of lustful desire upon the fair young creature, evidently so unprotected and so poor"[24]. Also like Venus in Boston, the seduction story of Mary Sanders emphasized the role that luck and circumstance played in a woman's preservation of her virtue. In Mary's story a licentious man took advantage of her curiosity and desire to learn in order to exploit her sexually. Through the guise of teaching Mary a lesson about the theories of psychology, this man lured her into a hotel room, hypnotized her, and took advantage of her defenseless condition. This hypnotic state left Mary completely vulnerable to the "passions" of this man:

I felt as if the cares of the world were forgotten. A sort of balmy sleep stole upon me, my spirits were buoyant and light as air for a short space of time followed by a period of misty darkness…your affianced bride was in the power of an unprincipled magnetizer. The victim was in his power, incapable of resistance, and he villain, as he was prepared to take advantage of a helpless maiden, but although I was in a perfectly helpless state when he attempted to consummate the unholy sacrifice, a convulsive shudder shook my frame.[25]

The fact that men found titillation in woman's weakness is telling of the sexuality of the society. Emphasizing the weakness and vulnerability of women highlighted the contrasting strength and power of men. Because women were portrayed as desirous yet incapable of controlling their own sexuality this power was left to men. The literature implies that women were left no other option but to rely on the good will of men to protect their sexual virtue.

While the pornographers wrote that taking advantage of young unmarried women was wrong, a deeper analysis of the sexualized language used by the pornographers and the emphasis that they placed on the ease with which men obtained sexual access to these desirable women suggests that male readers viewed the fulfillment of their own sexual desires as more important than preserving the virtue of women. The story of Mary Sanders in Mysteries of Bond Street, described hypnotization as one way women's bodies could be made physically vulnerable to sexual advances. Fainting, an exhibition of physical weaknesses and total lack of bodily control was a common characteristic shared among the "heroines" of nineteenth-century erotic stories. For example, Mary Sanders "gave a wild shriek, and fainted away" when she saw her old fiancée in her brothel. Men had to help her regain her senses; "Mickle and Fred lifted up the fainting girl, and held a glass of water to her lips, which restorative brought her somewhat to her senses. She gazed wildly around the room".[26] These characteristics may have functioned as a form of disguised encouragement for male readers to take sexual advantage of women, as these descriptions showed readers that obtaining sexual control of women was not a physically difficult task. Maria Monk also suggested that nuns lacked control over their bodies and sexuality. Before Maria's first sexual encounter her regard for authority and trusting nature lead her to accept the imminent loss of her virtue to the priests. She resigned control of her sexuality to the priests: "Father Dufresne called me out, saying he wished to speak with me. I feared what was his intention; but I dared not disobey. In a private apartment, he treated me in a brutal manner; and, from two other priests, I afterwards received similar usage that evening. Father Dufresne afterwards appeared again; and I was compelled to remain in company with him until morning."[27] Although such characterization of the priests contributed to anti-Catholic sentiment, at the same time male readers fantasized about priests control over women's sexuality showing that they approved of this behavior at some level, or at the least found it exciting or desirable. Schultz argues that the nineteenth-century audience of titillating convent narratives read these narratives "under the guise of reading enlightening literature", but in reality "the books themselves offered access to violent and erotic literature, which was generally proscribed in this era."[28] Furthermore, because Maria exhibits complete sexual submission to the priests, her contemporary readers are able to view her as a victim, someone whom they can still relate to and consider inherently "good". It was beyond the comprehension of this nineteenth-century male audience that a virtuous, respectable woman would actively seek out sexual activity or pleasure. If a sexually desirable woman was described as partaking in sexual activity, then it was somehow accidental, unintentional, or not part of lucid thought.

While some pornographic literature included erotic descriptions of sexually impure women who did not conform to society's view of desirable feminine behavior, descriptions of these women emphasized that they were to only to be considered desirable in a sexual sense and even in this way less desirable to virtuous, pure women. The Flash Press ran flattering stories about certain prostitutes and the erotic novels of George Thompson often described sexually experienced woman in a manner intended to arouse the reader. Thompson's erotic novels Mysteries of Bond Street and Venus in Boston contain female characters that openly sought sexual pleasure, and who spoke shamelessly about their sexual desires and status as "fallen" women. While the authors intentionally described these women in such a way as to arouse the reader, fallen women were clearly not intended to be the most desirable women in the story. The most desirable women conformed to societal expectations of women's sexuality. The flash press and erotic novels described some prostitutes as sexually desirable, but it was stressed that prostitutes existed for the purpose of occasional male pleasure. Both the flash press and erotic novels encouraged men to refrain from becoming emotionally attached to prostitutes.[29] These women were considered dangerous because they retained some control over their sexuality and used it to profit off men. One such woman was "The Duchess" in Venus in Boston. She worked with the "Chevalier", who was truly her lover, to extort money from men who fell for her beauty and seductive nature. The scam involved the Duchess engaging in sexual behavior with an unsuspecting rich man, almost to the point of intercourse, when the Chevalier (believed by the unsuspecting man to be the brother of "The Duchess") "catches" them. The rich man then bribed the Chevalier with a large sum of money so that the Chevalier would not kill him or expose the villain's behavior to others. The Duchess had no reservations about using her sexuality to obtain money. She exhibited no guilt about being a fallen, impure woman. She found her scams entertaining: "What a d—d old fool that man is! Oh, I shall die _ I shall positively suffocate with mirth".[30] She also bragged about her sexual experience, claiming to be "the authoress of "Confessions of a Voluptuous Young Lady of High Rank."[31] Although the Duchess was described in a way to sexually excite readers, she was understood to be an evil woman who does not deserve pity. Another such warning tale, used to caution male readers against deception by the trickery of beautiful and seemingly desirable "fallen" women was found in the flash press story "Marriage in High Life". In this story a naïve young man, Ezekiel Verisopht, who had just inherited a great deal of money, was tricked into believing that the "beautiful and stately [prostitute] Ellen Thompson, with her swan-neck and breast of snow" was the famous Princess Julia. This man proposed marriage to Ellen, who accepted, as "the whole affair was intended as a joke on the part of the ladies"[32]. Ellen and her prostitute friends conducted a sham wedding and then presented the outraged Ezekiel with the bill. Because these fallen women embraced their immoral status and mocked the virtue in others, readers would not have pitied them or considered them to be victims of male sexuality.

When describing women in seduction tales, writers of popular print pornography kept these descriptions within certain boundaries. Unlike "fallen women" whose sexual desirability was characterized as dangerous in nineteenth-century pornography, the heroine in erotic stories consistently embodied innocence and virtue; the central expectations for single woman articulated in Victorian notions of sexuality. For instance, Fanny Aubrey, the heroine identified by the author in Venus in Boston, exhibited these typical characterizations and was also described as modest, loyal, good-natured, and hard working. Tellingly, when pornographers were attempting to make their "fallen" characters more appealing to readers they endowed them with the characteristics of innocence and virtue. The writer of the Flash Press article, "Lives of the Nymphs, No. 11: Amanda Green", attempted to increase the appeal of prostitute Amanda Green by describing her as a virtuous young woman who had the bad luck of being seduced. The story began with a description of Amanda as a nice, dutiful, fourteen year old who lived with her mother. While Amanda was treated in a child-like fashion by seducer who lifted "her in his arms like a child", it was made clear that Amanda was sexually developed, through assuring readers that "Amanda was by no means a chicken"[33]. This assurance of Amanda's sexual maturity signaled to the reader that her seduction was inside the boundaries of legitimate sexual fantasies. While the portrayal of a young woman's first sexual encounter was described in a highly suggestive or erotic manner clearly intended to titillate the reader, these women were consistently described as women not girls. For this male audience, "taking" the sexual innocence of a virgin (although not a child) was viewed as more exciting and sexually desirable than engaging in, or reading about, sexual relations with a "fallen" woman. If a "fallen" woman was the protagonist in an erotic story then she was described as flawed, but still inherently virtuous and good. Mary, a New York City prostitute, was described in The Mysteries of Bond Street as a victim of passion and circumstance. Mary is rescued from her brothel by her former fiancée. Upon recognizing his fallen bride, this man offers to care for her because he sees that Mary is still an inherently good person. She "gladly acquiesced to his proposition," as she despised her life as a prostitute; "she had never been a willing votary to the fearful calling in which unfortunate circumstances had placed her. Like the repentant Magdalene, she wished to tread again the path of virtue."[34] Mary is described as a woman who should be pitied, but prostitution had caused her to lose her beauty and desirability.

The depiction of sexually desirable woman in nineteenth-century pornography indicates that readers preferred to fantasize about single, motherless women that were permanently sexually available. Although Amanda Green's seduction story described her as having more than one lover before she became a prostitute, she never married. Her sexual experiences were driven by feelings of desire and love rather than for procreation. The sexual experiences described in erotic literature did not lead to marriage. All of Amanda's love affairs ended rather quickly. Because Amanda became a fallen and wayward woman her mother turned her out of the house and "no resource was left to her but open prostitution."[35] Although the nuns described in convent tales did not turn to prostitution after the loss of their virtue, like Amanda their "profession" ensured that they would not marry. While prostitutes and the nuns in convent tales were described as sexually active they were not described as mothers. The flash press included ads for drugs to end pregnancy and abortionists, suggesting to readers that sexual activity need not lead to reproduction. In the convent described in Maria Monk, nuns who became pregnant killed their children soon after birth and disposed of them in the convent's basement. While infanticide was morally repulsive to the readers of Maria Monk, these same readers preferred to fantasize with pornographic materials where extramarital procreation did not lead to childbirth.

Like white women, erotic literature contained predictable, defined roles for the white man. One common character was the "villainous" man responsible for stealing a young girl's virtue. This "libertine"[36] was portrayed similarly across the literature as cold, rich, powerful, and older. "Chambers" fits this role in "Lives of the Nymphs, No. 11: Amanda Green", as the man responsible for seducing Amanda Greene and causing her eventual downfall into prostitution. The story indicates that Chambers was older than the fourteen-year-old Amanda and rich; he was described as having a "black waiter", a Chateau, and expensive possessions such as a "luxurious chair" and a bearskin coat. In Venus in Boston, Mr. Tickels plays the role of the villain. He was described as a "full sixty years of age… a large portly man, with very grey hair and a very red face: he was attired in a dressing-gown and slippers, and wore a magnificent diamond pin in his shirt frill."[37] The villains who seduced virtuous young women were characterized as hypersexual, promiscuous, and untrustworthy. Chambers, the "villainous libertine" in the seduction story of Amanda Greene "ruined" and then deceived her; "she discovered by a letter that Chambers was unfaithful"[38]. The libertines never truly love the women they seduce or intend to marry them. Libertines seduce women because of their inherent hypersexual nature. There is nothing about a particular young woman that causes them to become a villain. Mr. Tickels, the villain in Venus in Boston was described as "one of those wealthy beasts whose lusts run riot on the innocence of young females- whose crimes outnumbered the gray hairs upon his head, and whose riches were devoted to no other purpose than the procurement of victims for his appetite, and the gratification of his abominable passions"[39].

The condemnation of villainous men and their deeds by pornographers was insincere and served ulterior purposes. It is not surprising that a man who took a young girl's virginity and did not marry her would be portrayed as a villain in the Victorian era, when society believed that the "worst fate that can befall a helpless maiden" was "the loss of her honor."[40] Pornographers may have half-heartedly included these beliefs in order to make their readers more comfortable and escape censorship. Thompson clearly identified "the hideous character of THE SEDUCER" in Venus in Boston:

Oh! If there be one wretch living who deserves to be cast on as a venomous insect, and crushed as the vilest reptile that crawls- it is he who calmly and deliberately sets himself about the hellish task of accomplishing the ruin of a weak, confiding woman- than having sipped the sweets and inhaled the fragrance of the flower, tramples it beneath his feet.[41]

Thompson's condemnation of men who took young women's virginity without the promise of marriage was not sincere, rather it was included in hopes to increase his book sales. At this time pornography was a commercial enterprise; Thompson and other pornographers produced seduction stories in order to titillate male readers that would purchase their writing for this purpose. While some of the readers of pornographic literature were possibly "libertines" themselves, most readers probably accepted the prevailing notions of Victorian sexuality and thought it evil to corrupt an innocent virgin for selfish purposes. As members of Victorian society, pornographers understood the boundaries of acceptability that their work must conform to so as to remain profitable. Pornography shallowly condemned the behavior of libertines and allowed readers to fantasize about behavior that sexual mores forbid them from acting upon in reality, such as taking a girl's virginity outside of the promise of marriage. Characterizing the "villain" as the "other" allowed reader's to distance themselves from the guilt associated with fantasizing about something they believed was wrong.

The characterization of villains as wealthy and powerful reflected class antagonisms that existed in American society. This characterization suggests that the rich were perceived as able to disregard social expectations and sexual norms, and as believing themselves entitled to young women's virginity because of their wealth and status. Looking at this characterization from another angle it can be inferred that pornographers may have led men to pursue wealth in order to obtain exceptional sexual satisfaction. These pornographers wrote and published their work during the period of American industrialization and the growth of cities. A mocking characterization of the "villain" character, such as Thompson's in Venus in Boston[42], may have encouraged men to pursue wealth as a means of gaining total access to female sexuality.

While the seducers were typically from the upper class, the young women vulnerable to seduction in this pornographic literature were consistently from the lower class. Existing as a female in the working world, or as an orphan, commonly made these women vulnerable to sexual exposure. The main character in the erotic novel Venus in Boston, Fanny, was a fourteen year old orphan, whose family was "very poor, and were wholly dependent upon a small pittance which the grandfather (who was blind) daily earned by basket making together with the very small profits which she realized by the sale of fruit in the streets."[43] Some erotic stories went beyond classifying women in the working world as sexually vulnerable and linked a woman's sexuality to her specific profession. Chambermaids were characterized in the flash press as a sexually available and "lustful" group of women, "but flesh and blood, with the same instinctive desires as their masters." Furthermore, the environment which maids worked in was described as encouraging of sexual activity, as "much of their time is necessarily passed alone, in remote apartments, which usually contain beds. Solitude is the devil and opportunity only another name for temptation."[44] Cohen identified this erotic writing as "implying that the instinctive behavior of maids not only encourages sexual encounters, but such women enjoy the same lustful desires as the men who seek to seduce them."[45] Classifying workingwomen as more sexually vulnerable or inherently less virtuous than women who existed within the realm of domesticity helped to strengthen society's belief the best place for women was as wives and mothers within the home. The flash press ran articles on the lives of prostitutes in New York City that provide numerous examples of the common depiction of "fallen women" as lower class. In "Lives of the Nymphs, No. 11: Amanda Green", Amanda was described as the daughter of a "mantuamaker [dressmaker]."[46] While Amanda attended school and learned to read and write, she eventually "left school and assisted her mother in her business". These descriptions placed Amanda Green outside of the realm of domesticity. She always worked outside of the home, and therefore her "fall from innocence" was less offense to the reader. Amanda's crude language indicated that she was from the lower class; for instance, she yelled, "Git along you sassy good for nothing feller."[47] By describing prostitutes and the objects of sexual desire in pornography as members of the lower class, middle and upper class male readers could feel safe that their daughters and sisters were not vulnerable to falling into this life.

While members of the upper and lower class were portrayed in stereotypical ways, the literature labeled neither class as uniformly evil. The literature reflects class animosity, but relationships between members of different classes exist and the power dynamics in these relationships often shift throughout the stories. In Venus in Boston,[48] a common criminal, "Jew Mike", helped to capture and incriminate Mr. Tickels the rich and powerful libertine, for attempting to hold Fanny (an orphan) his sexual hostage. Interaction between classes and power shifts described in pornography reflected nineteenth-century American society that was rapidly changing because of urbanization and immigration.

Nineteenth-century pornography exhibited a distinct and unwavering anti-black sentiment, and characteristically described African Americans as physically ugly and often deformed. In a flash press article, a kidnapped young woman is served a glass of wine (which ultimately leads to her to sexually submit to her captor) by "a stunted black waiter of about three feet high, who was at the same time one of the ugliest specimens of dingy humanity that Amanda had ever befeld"[49]. In a selection from the sensational erotic novel, The Mysteries of Bond Street, the author includes the description that "a blind negro was playing on a cracked fiddle" [50] in the bar room of a brothel to emphasize how horrible and filthy this was. Often pornographers used descriptive images of African Americans to conjure notions of immorality and wickedness in the reader's mind.

While references to African Africans were fairly sparse, in these stories pornographers typically portrayed them as evil henchmen to the villain. In Venus in Boston, an "old negro women" served as servant and accomplice to Mr. Tickles, who attempted to kidnap and rape the young heroine, Fanny, throughout the novel. The unnamed black servant woman was described "as an old wretch" having a "demon's laugh" and possessing feelings of "malice and hatred" towards the virtuous Fanny. This black woman was described as physically ugly and as possessing animal attributes, such as "eyes like a serpent". Fanny called attention to the black woman's evil, inhuman nature when she referred to this woman as a "nasty old black devil."[51] After this insult, the black woman became physically violent towards Fanny:

"With the fury of a tigress, and the countenance (black as she was) livid with rage, she flew at the young girl, tore every shred of clothing from her person, and then beat her cruelly with the rope, until her fair skin was covered in various places with black and blue marks. In vain poor Fanny implored for mercy; the black savage continued to beat her until obliged to desist by sheer exhaustion. Throwing herself breathless into a chair, she said, with a fierce oath-…You shall be more civil, and do as my master wishes, and obey me in everything, or I'll not leave a whole bone in your skin. Now put on these new clothes instantly, or I solemnly swear I'll not leave off beating you until you lie at my feet, a corpse!"[52]

The black servant in Venus in Boston carried out physical violence towards Fanny of behalf of the libertine, Mr. Tickels. The black woman attempted to weaken Fanny's spirit and body so that Fanny would be vulnerable to the sexual advances of her captor. This black woman embodied evil and was associated with violence. She was described as the complete opposite of a young, beautiful virtuous white woman. Both black men and women were portrayed in this literature as evil, violent, and often complicit with a white woman's capture and seduction or rape.

Pornographers showed just as much disdain for interracial sex as they did for African Americans. Interracial sex, or deriving sexual arousal from a person of another race, was viewed as base, vile, and so far outside of the range of acceptable behavior that popular erotic writers would not even hint at this being anything but offensive. Revulsion to interracial sex was exhibited in the flash press. One article described a brothel that surpassed the "Five Points in the richness of filth and putrid matter" because it allowed interracial sex to take place. The author of this piece sarcastically described interracial sex as "the Ciracssian and sable race beautifully blended together, and their arms intermingled so as to form a lovely contrast between the alabaster whiteness of one and the polished blackness of the other", and concluded the article the with the statement "Yes, I love amalgation [interracial sex] as the devil loves holy water."[53] Cohen agrees that the flash press tended to exhibit racist attitudes. He argues that some poems contained the flash press "revealed the racism and pro-southern sympathies of certain flash press editors."[54]

Print pornography in the nineteenth-century also exhibited a strong bias against religious minorities. For example, authors of convent novels, such as Maria Monk, profited off the anti-Catholic hysteria of their audience. Schultz argues that "what was most disturbing to Protestant readers was the way that convents in Boston…removed the control of female sexuality and reproduction from Protestant patriarchy and permitted access only to Catholics…In Monk's text this fear is given overt expression, with subterranean passages giving priests direct sexual access to nuns."[55] The flash press article the "Lives of the Nymphs," [56] also appears to contain an anti-Catholic bias, as the downfall of the prostitute Amanda Thompson was attributed to "a young clergy man [who] walked over the course and imprinted his image on her too susceptible heart."[57] This distrust of religious leaders may have represented a working-class distrust of authority. Most scholars agree the working class was the main audience of cheap erotic and sensationalist literature. In Venus in Boston the preacher character is described as untrustworthy, promiscuous and hypocritical. Catholics were not the only religious minority whose practices were viewed as threatening to nineteenth-century ideas of sexuality. In The Mysteries of Bond Street, a wealthy man who kept six prostitutes in his home was called a "Sybarite of the nineteenth-century, who emulated the Mormons of the Desert, in the heart of the Empire City, who had not one redeeming trait in his character."[58] In Venus in Boston, a career criminal who kidnapped the heroine of the story is named "Jew Mike". Jew Mike brought Fanny to a brothel so that she could be enslaved in the underground "Chambers of Love" for the sexual satisfaction of an evil seducer. Often referred to as merely "the jew", Jew Mike is portrayed as ugly, impulsive, dirty, immoral, and lacking all respect for human life and dignity. Rachel, a prostitute at the brothel where Fanny was temporarily held, was also identified as a Jew. She was described as physically attractive, yet immoral and indecent, "her own wild, lascivious passion had been the cause of her being brought to the 'Chambers'."[59] Pornographers consistently portrayed members of religious minorities as the "other" in order to send a message to their audience about these minorities' inferiority.

Nineteenth-century pornography in the form of the flash press, convent novels, and erotic stories provide the social historian with a unique look into the sexuality of this era. This pornography demonstrates the manner in which the producers and consumers of this popular literature understood the roles of women, men, minority religious groups, class, and African Americans in society. White women were portrayed as passive, vulnerable, weak, and submissive victims to the sexual passions of men. Sexual relations outside of marriage were unacceptable, but exciting to the male audience of this literature, who viewed taking a woman's virginity as the ultimate sexual fantasy. The themes and descriptions contained in pornography indicate that males of this time found holding sexual and physical power over woman highly appealing. This literature also emphasized and reinforced the dominance of white males in society by portraying African Americans as evil, ugly, and inferior. Members of the lower class were portrayed as more vulnerable to corruption and often sexually depraved. Religious minorities were viewed as distinctly different, their refusal to conform to societal norms made them dangerous and wicked. Analysis of this pornographic literature provides valuable insights into the sexuality of the era and related issues of identity and power, therefore social historians should focus more effort on holistically studying what these sources reveal about nineteenth-century society.

Bibliography

Abramson, Paul R. and Pinkerton, Steven D. Thoughts on the Nature of Human Sexuality. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002. p180

Cohen, Patricia Cline, Timothy J. Gilfoyle, and Helen Lefkowitz Horowitz. The Flash Press: Sporting Male Weeklies in 1840s New York. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 2008.

Crane, Jonathan L. "Rereading Pornography" Journal of Communication, (Spring 1996).

Horowitz, Helen Lefkowitz. Attitudes toward Sex in Antebellum America: A Brief History with Documents. New York: Palgrave Macmillian, 2006.

Horowitz, Helen Lefkowitz. Rereading Sex: Battles Over Sexual Knowledge and Suppression in Nineteenth-Century America. New York: Knopf, 2002.

Kendrick, Walter. The Secret Museum: Pornography in Modern Culture. New York: Viking, 1987.

Gilfoyle, Timothy J. City of Eros: New York City, Prostitution, and the Commercialization of Sex, 1790-1920. New York: W.W. Norton & Company,1992.

Reynolds, David S. and Kimberly R. Gladman, ed. Venus in Boston: and Other Tales of Nineteenth-Century City Life, Amherst and Boston: University of Massachusetts Press, 2002.

Roberts, Mary Louise. "Gender, Consumption, and Commodity Culture." The American Historical Review 103(1998): 817-844.

"Maria Monk and the Nunnery of the Hotel Dieu: Being an Account of a Visit to the Convents of Montreal, and Refutation of the "Awful Disclosures". New York: Howe& Bates, 1836. in Nancy Schultz, Veil of Fear: Nineteenth-Century Convent Tales by Rebecca Reed and Maria Monk. West Lafayette, Indiana: Purdue University Press, 1999.

Schultz, Nancy. Veil of Fear: Nineteenth-Century Convent Tales by Rebecca Reed and Maria Monk. West Lafayette, Indiana: Purdue University Press, 1999.

Slade, Joseph W. Pornography in America: A Reference Handbook. Santa Barbara, CA: ABC-CLIO, 2000.

Thompson, George. Venus in Boston: and Other Tales of Nineteenth-Century City Life, Amherst and Boston: University of Massachusetts Press, 2002.

[1] Helen Leftowitz Horowitz, Rereading Sex: Battles Over Sexual Knowledge and Suppression in Nineteenth-Century America. (New York: Knopf, 2002.), 9.

[2] Horowitz, Rereading Sex, 5.

[3] David S. Reynolds and Kimberly R. Gladman, ed. Venus in Boston: and Other Tales of Nineteenth-Century City Life, (Amherst and Boston: University of Massachusetts Press, 2002), ix

[4] Crane, Jonathan L. "Rereading Pornography" Journal of Communication, (Spring 1996).

[5] Joseph W Slade. Pornography in America: A Reference Handbook. (Santa Barbara, CA: ABC-CLIO), 3.

[6] Slade, 33.

[7] Horowitz, Re-reading Sex, 32.

[8] Walter Kendrick. "The Secret Museum: Pornography in Modern Culture". (Viking: New York: 1987) Chapters 1, 3,5.

[9] Crane, 33.

[10] Kendrick, 68.

[11] Slade, 16.

[12] Crane, 66.

[13] Horowitz, Rereading Sex, 8.

[14] Horowitz, Rereading Sex, 9.

[15] The Sunday Flash was an urban sporting men's publication produced in New York City during the 1840s.

[16] "Lives of the Nymphs, No. 11: Amanda Green" Sunday Flash 1, no. 11(Oct.17, 1841): In Patricia Cline Cohen, Timothy J. Gilfoyle, and Helen Lefkowitz Horowitz. The Flash Press: Sporting Male Weeklies in 1840s New York. (Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 2008), 147-150.

[17] Maria Monk in Schultz, 24.

[18] Schultz.

[19] Schultz, vii.

[20] "Maria Monk and the Nunnery of the Hotel Dieu: Being an Account of a Visit to the Convents of Montreal, and Refutation of the "Awful Disclosures". New York: Howe& Bates, 1836. in Nancy Schultz, Veil of Fear: Nineteenth-Century Convent Tales by Rebecca Reed and Maria Monk. West Lafayette, Indiana: Purdue University Press, 1999) 25.

[21] "Lives of the Nymphs, No. 11: Amanda Green" from Cohen.

[22] Thompson, Venus in Boston.

[23] Thompson, Venus in Boston, 7.

[24] Thompson, Venus in Boston, 8.

[25] George Thompson, The mysteries of Bond Street; or, The Seragelios of Upper Tendom (New York:n.p., 1857), in Helen Lefkowitz Horowitz. Attitudes toward Sex in Antebellum America: A Brief History with Documents. (New York: Palgrave Macmillian, 2006), 147.

[26] Thompson, The mysteries of Bond Street in Horowitz p. 144.

[27] Maria Monk in Schultz, .29

[28] Schultz, Nancy. Veil of Fear: Nineteenth-Century Convent Tales by Rebecca Reed and Maria Monk. (West Lafayette, Indiana: Purdue University Press, 1999) xxiv.

[29] "Marriage in High Life", Whip and Satarist of New-York and Brooklyn, March 19, 1842 in Cohen, 171-173.

[30] Thompson, Venus in Boston, 70.

[31] Thompson, Venus in Boston, 71.

[32] "Marriage in High Life", Whip and Satarist of New-York and Brooklyn, March 19, 1842 in Cohen, 171-173.

[33] "Lives of the Nymphs, No. 11: Amanda Green" from Cohen.

[34] Thompson, The mysteries of Bond Street, in Horowitz ,146.

[35] "Lives of the Nymphs, No. 11: Amanda Green" from Cohen.

[36] Defined by Horowitz in Rereading Sex as "persons without moral restraint",133.

[37] Thompson, Venus in Boston, 11.

[38] "Lives of the Nymphs, No. 11: Amanda Green" in Cohen.

[39] Thompson, Venus in Boston, 11.

[40] Thompson, Venus in Boston, 12.

[41] Thompson, Venus in Boston, 8.

[42]Thompson, Venus in Boston, 8.

[43] Thompson, Venus in Boston, 4.

[44] "Sketches of Characters-No. 16: The Chambermaid", Whip and Satirist of New-York and Brookyln, April 9, 1842 in Cohen, 161.

[45] Cohen, 161.

[46] "Lives of the Nymphs, No. 11: Amanda Green" in Cohen.

[47] "Lives of the Nymphs, No. 11: Amanda Green"

[48] Thompson, Venus in Boston.

[49] "Lives of the Nymphs, No. 11: Amanda Green" in Cohen.

[50] George Thompson, The mysteries of Bond Street, in Horowitz, 144.

[51] Thompson, Venus in Boston, 14.

[52] Thompson, Venus in Boston, 15.

[53] "Baltimore: Correspondence of The Whip", Whip July 9, 1842 from Cohen, 191.

[54] Cohen, 191.

[55] Schultz, Veil of Fear, xxi.

[56] Amanda B. Thompson and her attaché, "Lives of the Nymphs" (True Flash December 4, 1841) in Cohen, 150.

[57] "Lives of the Nymphs", in Cohen, 150.

[58] George Thompson, The mysteries of Bond Street in Horowitz, 149.

[59] Thompson, Venus in Boston, 100.