Hiding fandom in the underwear drawer since 1977

As much of this material is functionally identical to what’s discussed in Hitchcock 2012, I’m going to skim more than usual.

The article opens with a quote from an early 18th century memoir discussing in candid detail the erotic practices of two unmarried people. The couple had an extended relationship that never resulted in marriage and yet considered that they “never acted [in a way] which might bring us disgrace” or in a way that compromised the woman’s virginity. To the extent that “sex” outside of marriage was forbidden, the details point out the range of erotic activities that were not considered “sex” at that time, including “amorous talks and quaint glances, kissing and toying when together in private…[she] came to [his] bedside…tender and loving kisses.”

Hitchcock compares this extensive inventory of acceptable non-procreative activities to the demonstrable demographics of the late 18th century which reflect a much higher incidence of procreative sex, both before and after marriage. This same shift in emphasis is seen during the same period in pornography and novels. Hitchcock asserts that this would seem to be in conflict with other historical trends: the rise of the “separate spheres” view of gender, the increasing emphasis on motherhood as women’s primary identity, and the rise of homosocial segregation at home and the workplace.

[Note: As I commented for Hitchcock 2012, this supposed conflict disappears if one views the shift in sexual attitudes as being driven by a prioritization of men’s desires, rather than a general shift in attitudes across the genders. As women are the people who get pregnant, they are the primary beneficiaries of non-procreative sex.]

The article reviews various demographic trends that appeared across the 18th century: lower age at first marriage, increasing percentages of children born out of marriage or marriages where the bride was already pregnant, decreasing percentages of never-married people.

Historians have proposed various explanations for these shifts including economic dynamics (which don’t’ always align well on a cause-effect basis), a shift to the idea of a “companionate” marriage prioritizing familial affection and less parental control over partner choice, or even the influence of attitudes towards “productivity” that saw children as a desirable economic product. These explanations remain largely speculative.

From another angle, literary movements (pornography, the rise of the novel, enlightenment philosophy) reflect a growing libertinism, but one which emphasized male sexual pleasure, revolving around the penis, with a greater openness in discussing sexual matters. Hitchcock suggests this is at odds with trends in women’s history, with women finding their access to public participation increasingly limited (both socially and professionally) at the same time there was increasing patriarchal control within the household. [Note: once again, I don’t see a conflict if one views the “increasing openness and focus on pleasure” as benefitting men alone. ‘More sex” might be liberating for men but could be a form of repression for women.]

Hitchcock asserts that this move toward more sex “we must assume was largely consensual” but I think that needs to be examined more closely. He notes that another parallel change around the 18th century in theories of sexuality was a rejection of the medical theory that female orgasm was essential to conception. This change undermined the importance of women’s sexual experiences within marriage. If their orgasms were irrelevant to procreation, then their sexual desires could not only be ignored (by men) but could be denied entirely (the shift to the “passionless woman” model of sexuality). Whatever the direction of causality [note: Hitchcock omits mention of other political shifts around the late 18th century that contributed to anxiety and distrust of women’s sexuality] these trends align.

Hitchcock suggests that viewing these trends in terms of “men’s liberation/women’s repression” reflects an ahistorical adoption of “the extreme polarities of modern gender politics” and suggests instead that they resulted from a revolution in the definition of “what constitutes sex.” The demographic shifts reflect specifically the prevalence of PIV procreative sex, but say little about other types of activities. We do have evidence of changes in social attitudes [note: at least from the authoritative establishment] such as the fashion for anti-masturbation literature and associated attitudes by medical authorities. He makes an unsupported claim that “the demands of narrative structure” of pornography supports a focus on penetrative sex as “while erotica may be about fondling pornography is generally about penetration.” [Note: Anyone who had engaged in the definitional wars around the boundaries of erotica and pornography will see the flaws in this statement.]

Left unexamined is the directionality of causation. Hitchcock asserts “If women were seen to be increasingly passive, then the necessity of sexually satisfying anyone other than the male participant was obviated, and penetration became the quickest way of doing this.” But the same scenario could be framed as “If authors focused entirely on the sexual satisfaction of the male participant, in the form of penetration, then the sexual desires and experiences of women were necessarily backgrounded, and to avoid framing the man as actively indifferent to female pleasure, the existence of female pleasure must be denied.”

Hitchcock gives a slight nod to this directional ambiguity in saying that the shift in sexual framing “reflected and contributed to” the general repression of women’s role in society. Implicit in the rise of focus on penetrative sex was the assignment of responsibility for control of procreation to women—a responsibility they had increasingly less power to wield.

In addition to the fashion for anti-masturbation literature, there was a rise in “sex manuals” that focused entirely on techniques that increased the likelihood of pregnancy (and, unscientifically, on the likelihood of male offspring). So, to the extent that people were shaping their behavior to the dictates of conduct literature (and we should assume that large swathes of the population didn’t have access to it), positive discussions of sex were entirely about procreation and non-procreative sex appeared only as the target of suppression. With female orgasm eliminated as a component of procreation, techniques focused on women’s pleasure were not part of the program of sex manuals.

The article concludes with a discussion of how homosexuality fits into all this, but Hitchcock relies strongly on the timelines promoted by Randolph Trumbach, which have significant flaws with regard to the history of lesbianism. In particular, there is an assertion that prior to the 18th century, female homoeroticism existed primarily in the context of cross-dressing (an assertion that is easily contradicted), and that the disappearance of female cross-dressing narratives from popular culture by the end of the 18th century marks a significant shift in behavior (as opposed to a shift in the topics highlighted in popular culture—as there is plentiful evidence for passing/cross-dressing women in the 19th century, as well as new forms of female masculinity). Further, Hitchcock asserts that “the rise of romantic friendship from mid-century” is part of this larger overall shifts, while ignoring the forms romantic friendship took as early as the 17th century.

All in all, it’s unsurprising that my opinions on Hitchcock’s later article also apply to this earlier work.