Posts Tagged ‘Fantomina’

Fantomina and the London Social Hierarchy

December 14, 2009

Eliza Haywood’s Fantomina; or, Love in a Maze is a satire of class structure within the context of a woman pursuing a man, Beauplasir, in 18th century London. In Fantomina, the unnamed female protagonist is in a theater, sitting in the balcony, a prominent symbol of wealth and class. Because of the woman’s high social standing, many restrictions are placed upon her. She is restricted from having meaningful conversation with members of the opposite sex, nor is she allowed to actively pursue them. She suddenly notices a familiar face in the crowd below her under the balcony; She sees Beauplasir, a male in the same high social standing as she. Because Beauplasir is male, however, he is free to leave the balcony and pursue women below it.

Fed up with her restrictions, she changes her clothes so that she resembles a prostitute. It is here that Haywood is satirizing not only the restrictions on women of higher social standing, but also the arbitrary reasons for deciding who belongs in what class, which in this case is clothing. Now a prostitute, she pursues Beauplasir freely, as he is unable to recognize her as she has changed her social standing, thus changing her very identity, now “Fantomina.”

Fantomina falls in love with Beauplasir, and their relationship is sexual, as is with relationships dealing with prostitutes. In the same regard, Beauplasir grows tired of Fantomina and leaves her. Distraught, she follows him. Changing her clothes again, thereby changing her social standing and identity, she becomes “Celia,” Beauplasir’s new maid. Again, Beauplasir and Celia have a relationship, but much like the first relationship, Beauplasir grows tired of her and leaves.

She continues this charade using the disguises of “Mrs. Bloomer” and “Incognita.” Beauplasir is unable to recognize the woman in her disguises, furthering the satire that if social standing is changed, her identity is changed. The woman enjoys these relationships because she is able to exert some level of control over Beauplasir. When the woman was a member of her original upper-class standing, she would be unable to have any sort of control over a man, much less pursue a relationship with him.

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Infidelity

December 14, 2009

Eliza Haywood’s Fantomina; or, Love in a Maze, satirizes the archetypal depiction of man’s infidelity. The irony enters, however, in Haywood’s use of an aristocratic woman’s infidelity to highlight man’s infidelity.  

            In the novella, Beauplaisir is used, as his name suggests, to represent all the men who “regardless either of play or circle, [throw] away their time in such a manner” as pursuing prostitutes (2566). The aristocratic woman, who, throughout the work, remains as unnamed to the reader as her final alter-ego remains to Beauplaisir, does not represent womankind. Instead, the aristocratic woman, often referred to as Fantomina, represents the few women capable of countering man’s infidelity with wit and ingenuity.

            Fantomina ponders how some women let men destroy their lives through infidelity with “How do some women make their life a hell, burning in fruitless expectations, and dreaming out their days in hopes and fears, then wake at last to all the horror and despair?” (2577). Fantomina classifies herself above these women and notes how she has “outwitted even the most subtle of the deceiving kind, and while he thinks to fool me, is himself the only beguiled person” (2577).  Fantomina’s attitude towards outwitting men is one unique element of social commentary highlighted in Fantomina. For if even the skillful Fantomina, a woman who places herself on a pedestal above other women in regards to her deceptive nature, fails in deceiving man, then is any woman truly capable of  “beguiling” man?

            Adding to this unique element of success and failure is the means by which the two “players” attempt to win the “game.” Beauplaisir does nothing to avoid is deception while Fantomina uses all of her wit to guard her reputation. Eliza Haywood is perhaps pointing out how in 18th century London, even ignorant men are viewed by society as superior to women. In the end, Fantomina fails and is sent to a monastery while Beauplaisir is left to inevitably continue finding new mistresses to quiet his lustful appetite. Fantomina sinks to a level that most women would deem disgraceful but is still unable to conquer Beauplaisir at man’s own game: deceiving women.

            Existing with the archetypal image of the unfaithful man is the dichotomy of what society deems acceptable for men and women. Just as in Fantomina, there is a double standard regarding unfaithful men and unfaithful women today. Fantomina is sent to a different country to hide from the shame she has bestowed upon her family. Beauplaisir continues to live in the same city with no harmful effect on his reputation. Clearly, some of the satire present in 18th century London is still applicable to today’s society.

Sexual Conquest in Fantomina

December 14, 2009

In her novella Fantomina; or, Love in a maze, Eliza Haywood, “one of the most popular, prolific, and versatile authors of her time,” satirizes 18th century society through her fictional escapade that explores the social aspects of class mobility in regards to sexual conquests (Abrams 2566).

From the opening of the story, Fantomina, for lack of a more permanent name, clearly struggles with the confines that her high “quality” and “degree” impose (2567, 2573). Fantomina does not understand why the upper echelon’s gentlemen turn to the basest women in order to shed their superficial formalities and act with “freedom” (2567). Her observations at the playhouse force her to see, but not yet understand, the irony that belles cannot satisfy their peer’s most primal and intimate desires.

It’s not until Fantomina transforms into Incognita that she realizes the true nature of why Beauplaisir is so superficial and philandering: “The most violent passion, if it does not change its object, in time will wither” (2580). Beauplaisir, an exaggerated eighteenth century beau and another object of Haywood’s satire, is a prime teacher of this lesson because he falls victim to his sexual vices far more often than not. In essence, he teaches Fantomina that his pleasures, and perhaps the pleasures of most upper class men, arise from the challenge of getting a woman to acquiesce to his physical desires. Basically, the thrill is in the conquest, and Fantomina illustrates her understanding of this philosophy in a none too subtle way when she addresses her letter to “the All-conquering Beauplaisir” (2579).

Thus, as Fantomina finds out through experience, the actual woman does not matter to these hedonistic men; they only care about successfully completing their missions. In fact, what bothers Beauplaisir so much in his dealings with Incognita is that he would never be able to lay his conquest to rest and move on to the next victim without gaining knowledge of her identity. Interestingly, the identity of the woman does not matter until it is absent. Fantomina knows the power she has over Beauplaisir in obstructing his hunt. “I have him always raving, wild, impatient, longing, dying.—O that all neglected wives and fond abandoned nymphs would take this method!—Men would be caught in their own snare, and have no cause to scorn our easy, weeping, wailing sex!” she says (2580). Once Fantomina gains this valuable advantage “she would rather part with him for ever” than go back to being a helpless victim of seduction (2581).

By the end of the story Haywood successfully satisfies Fantomina’s initial curiosity, that of why the gentlemen pay more attention to the prostitutes than to the fine ladies. Essentially, the ever-present focus on reputation, emphasized by Fantomina’s meticulous secrecy, creates an environment in the upper portions of the social hierarchy in which women care too much about being dishonored to have sex in the flippant manner that the conquest philosophy calls for. The biggest irony in the story, and the main target of the satire, is that for all the problems it creates, the apparent honor and dignity maintained by the upper class is utterly deceitful and hypocritical.

Abrams, M. H.; Greenblatt, Stephen; Lipking, Lawrence; Et Al, eds. The Norton Anthology of English Literature: Eighth Edition, Volume C, The Restoration and the Eighteenth Century. New York, NY: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc, 2006. Print.