Prostitution in Victorian London

Flora Tristan’s account of prostitution in London, published in 1840, is remarkably sympathetic, filled with concern and even compassion for the sex workers of London. Tristan calls sex work “the most hideous of the afflictions produced by the unequal division of the world’s goods” and is very concerned by the “physical tortures” a sex worker faces daily in her occupation. Tristan takes a close look at the causes of women turning to sex work and criticizes societal inequities between men and women:

…let this monstrosity be attributed to our social state and let woman be absolved from it! As long as she is subject to the yoke of man or of prejudice, as long as she receives no profession education, as long as she is deprived of civil rights, there cannot exist a moral law for her! As long as she cannot obtain property only by the influence she has over men’s passions, as long as she has gained through her work or been given by her father, as long as she can have property and liberty only by leading a single life, there can be no moral law for her! And it can be positively stated that until the emancipation of woman has been achieved, prostitution will continue to increase.

Tristan blames men for the societal position of sex workers as well as their poor conditions and short lives. She writes about how disgusting the patrons are for torturing women by getting them really drunk and then giving them a concoction to drink that “almost always gives her horrible convulsions, and the jerkings and contortions of the unfortunate thing provoke laughter and infinitely amuse the honorable society.”  Tristan targets the so-called classy English elite and criticizes them for their deplorable behavior and treatment of the women.  Tristan brings up the fact that sex workers do not live very long for they are always obligated to drink alcohol with their patrons and they usually come down with pneumonia or contract sexually transmitted infections.

In Amy Levy’s poem “Magdalen,” Levy also addressed the issue of illness, disease, and sex work, however it is from the point of view of the sex worker herself. While Tristan’s piece is very sympathetic and calls for the emancipation of women to end the suffering of sex workers, Levy’s poem is even more sympathetic because the reader is listening directly to the voice of a sex worker.  The woman is in a hospital designed for sex workers who have sexually transmitted infections to stay, locked away from the outside world in order to prevent the spread of disease, while the men, particularly the sailors, themselves were spreading disease. The speaker of the poem is shocked that she has contracted an illness from a man she slept with, the person to whom she is talking to throughout the poem. The hospital in which she is kept is miserable, where she hears other women cry at night:

At night, or when the daylight nears,
I hear the other women weep;
My own heart’s anguish lies too deep
For the soft rain and pain of tears.

The speaker of the poem also declares that she does not care to die because life has been so painful and death will finally be a time to rest.  Like Tristan’s piece, Levy is bringing to light the physical and emotional hardships that sex workers deal with, however Levy’s “Magdalen” has her own autonomy. At the end she concludes that although this man has given her the disease that will end her life, in the end he does not define what her life was: “That all is done, that I am free; /That you, through all eternity, / Have neither part nor lot in me.”

Victorian Views of Prostitution

Flora Tristan’s article not only sympathizes with prostitutes, but it outright and shamelessly condemns English society for forcing unmarried, entailed, and/or impoverished women to resort to a “job” that risks their health, safety, and sense of well-being. She sees the desperate act most clearly as a result from an unjust society, claiming, “…this revolting degradation is brought about by the disastrous effects of prejudices, poverty, and slavery” (2). Tristan also comments on the lack of options for women to support themselves, “Girls born in the poor class are pushed to prostitution by hunger. Women are excluded by work in the fields, and when they are not employed in factories, their only resource is domestic service or prostitution!” (2) Tristan also talks about the conditions in the whorehouses where women are played cruel tricks on when they’re drunk, such as being forced to drink a nasty mixture or glasses of all different kinds of beverages thrown on them when they are drunk. Tristan shows that the “fall” into the role of prostitute is not the worst part about being one, which leads me to think about Thomas Hood’s poem, “The Bridge of Sighs.”
Tristan wrote about the horrors of prostitution. Hood’s poem portrays a different perspective. While the poem is about the suicide of prostitutes, I feel that Hood, while sympathetic in some parts, does not quite grasp the whole reality that a prostitute is forced to live in and how she is ultimately, driven to her death. The first three lines of the third stanza show a sense of sympathy: “Touch her not scornfully;/Think of her mournfully/Gently and humanly;” Observing these lines, one might think that Hood holds a deep feeling of compassion towards the prostitute, and there is no doubt a sense of compassion is there, however, just as quick as Hood seems to be able to show this sympathy for these “fallen women”, he also condemns them, implying them as “One of Eve’s family” (1) and “Owning her weakness/Her evil behavior,/And leaving with meekness,/ Her sins to her Saviour!” My first question with these lines is, what weakness? It almost seems as if Hood is suggesting this woman wanted to be a prostitute for lustful reasons or something other than the sheer necessity of trying to survive as a lone woman in this world as is stated in Tristan’s article. The next part of this stanza, which states her “evil behavior,” once again condemns the woman and the woman alone. What about the men who used prostitutes? They were not condemned like this. Was their behavior not thought of as evil? As in Tristan’s article, they most certainly were.
Overall, Hood seems to try to sympathize with prostitutes, but more so for the sake of Christian forgiveness (still blaming the woman for her fall) rather than sheer empathy and compassion. Whereas, Tristan’s view completely understands and sympathizes with the prostitutes and condemns societal structures.

Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre and the Victorian Position of Governess

The position of governess in Victorian society is an awkward one. The author of “Hints on the Modern Governess System” views the governess system as problematic for both governesses and the families they serve. The author writes:

Whether it be right or wrong, as a general rule, for mothers to delegate their most sacred trust to hired strangers, we are not here to discuss. The fact exists. Is the system carried out fairly for all parties? Is there any question astir as to its abuse? Philanthropic eyes are scanning many social evils. (570)

The author is particularly concerned with the plight of the governess. They are concerned that governesses are not paid enough, that they are not viewed as an equal to the mother of the children they govern, that they must deal with rambunctious and insolent children, and that they are going insane and living in asylums–a fact that is misleading, since, as the editor notes, many governesses without families and between positions would stay in asylums because it was a cheap and somewhat respectable place to stay (“Hints on the Modern Governess System” 571).

However good the author’s intentions may be, they come off as slightly patronizing when this article is juxtaposed with the text of Jane Eyre.  While the author believes that being a governess is mentally exhausting for a governess must deal with child intellect all day:

Hour after hour she has bent down her mind, and raised the children’s to given points, which, however interesting, are exhausting. A young thing, perhaps, still herself, ready to spring up again at one kindly touch. Do not even fond mothers, who teach their own children, feel that after the labors of the day they need some interchange of mind? (573)

this opinion is never expressed in Jane Eyre by Jane or any other character. On the contrary, Jane is very fond of teaching and caring for Adele. After Mr. Rochester speaks of Adele’s unfortunate and disgraceful family situation, Jane defends the orphan, “I have a regard for her, and now that I know she is, in a sense, parentless — forsaken by her mother and disowned by you, sir, — I shall cling closer to her than before” (Brontë 218).  Jane’s affection for Adele isn’t based solely on the orphan connection. Jane is fond of Adele’s character: “Still she [Adele] had her merits; and I was disposed to appreciate all that was good in her to the utmost” (218).

The author of “Hints on the Modern Governess System” takes issue with the lower class distinction that a governess holds. The author believes that there is no “greater anomaly than that which makes a woman responsible for children, and their exemplar in all things, whose mother treats her as if she were unfit to associate herself and her guests” (571). Brontë portrays this negative and classist view of governesses in Victorian society in the scenes where Mr. Rochester’s guests mock Jane right in front of her face. In one instance, Blanche Ingram says:

You should hear mama on the chapter of governesses: Mary and I have had, I should think, a dozen at least in our day; half of them detestable and the rest ridiculous, and all incubi – were they not mama? (254)

However, Brontë is making the case for governesses as being equals to their employers, as Mr. Rochester insists that Jane continue to be present when his guests are over (259). In this regard, the author of “Hints on the Modern Governess System” and the author of Jane Eyre are in agreement.


Works Cited

Brontë, Charlotte. Jane Eyre. Ed. Richard Nemesvari. Toronto: Broadview Press. 1999. Print

“Hints on the Modern Governess System.” Fraser’s Magazine. 1844. Jane Eyre. Ed. Richard Nemesvari. Toronto: Broadview Press. 1999. 567-577. Print.