For contemporary readers who find nineteenth-century culture smotheringly conventional, Fanny Fern seems an enigmatically modern voice--funny, courageous, and disrespectful. She criticizes traditional Christian ministers, listless and blundering clerical expositors--many of whom offer us a Procrustean bed of theology, too short for any healthy creature of God to stretch himself upon (Fresh Leaves 90). By exposing materialism of pious, Fern demonstrates over and over that for many, contents of [the] pocket-book are most important, at expense of widows, orphans, immigrants, and poor (Fern Leaves, First Series 18). But unlike other nineteenth-century writers whose advanced feminism made them anathema to general public (for example, Lydia Maria Child), Fanny Fern was well-paid and popular. Her 1853 Fern Leaves From Fanny's Portfolio sold seventy thousand copies, and her success continued through a weekly column for New York Ledger (for more than fifteen years), two novels, five additional collections of articles, and three children's books. Fern's honored place in 1850s popular culture has prompted drastically different interpretive responses. Her literary success led Fred Pattee, in The Feminine Fifties, to describe her as the most tearful and convulsingly 'female' moralizer of whole modern blue-stocking school (110). The issue of sentimentalism has been central for U.S. feminist scholarship focusing on nineteenth century. Jane Tompkins's ground-breaking study Sensational Designs reclaimed culture as exemplary and formally skillful; in many ways, her work paved way for feminist re-evaluations of nineteenth-century women writers. Yet Tompkins's literary paradigm has often erroneously been applied to all women's writing of nineteenth century, and many scholars have moved away from Tompkins's celebration of sentimental power due to its gender essentialism and its often conservative politics. What is and how contemporary feminists can best understand and value are increasingly difficult questions to resolve. Fanny Fern is a prime example of this difficulty, for her writings both embody and challenge common understandings of culture. Her newspaper articles, even more than her fiction, combine funny and progressive critiques with pietistic fervor. It is this point that makes Fern so tantalizing and ultimately so frustrating, for alongside her subversiveness and her humor are anthems to God of nature and impassioned apologies for motherhood and religion--and irony is difficult to detect in many of these passages. Certain topics are off-limits for Fern; she approves of those who ha[ve] not learned to sniff at sacred things and never questions existence of God or truth of Christianity (Folly as it Flies 271). So is Fanny Fern or modern? Subversive or sincere? I would like to consider possibility that she is both. If Fern invoked irony to persuade her audience to a progressive Christian ethics and invoked pathos and religion for same purpose, what cultural implications might such a reading have for feminine fifties as well as for contemporary American culture? Examining Fern's critical legacy and her newspaper articles, this essay will consider following proposition: Fanny Fern's humor, her feminism, and her progressive politics came not in spite of or against her Christianity, but through it. CRITICAL ACCOUNTS OF FERN: SUBVERSIVE SENTIMENTALISM Before development of feminist literary and cultural criticism in seventies, Fanny Fern appeared in most critical accounts (when she appeared at all) as a prototype of weepy sentimentalism--a pious, insipid popular icon of a consumerized American culture. Feminist reclamations of Fanny Fern, by contrast, emphasize her nonsentimental qualities. To most feminist scholars, it seems incompatible for Fern simultaneously to lampoon hypocritically pious and to muse on joys of flowers, motherhood, and Christ. …
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Jun 26, 2009
Michael Barram 
Open Access