In Moll Flanders, Daniel Defoe constructs the image of an enterprising, self-sufficient, shrewd and independent woman. His Moll came from nowhere, born to a mother imprisoned in Newgate, born into this subterranean world of contained vice and crime, within but on the fringes of acceptable society. From these basic beginnings, Moll is able to work her way up the ranks of British society, a figure of liminality who traverses and embodies the fluidity of class distinction in an emerging commercial economy. Exploiting sexual and martial relationships for the purpose they serve in Moll's quest for social climbing, the text reduces the people and encounters that are the romantic focal point in early libertine works, to an economic or commodity status that highlights pragmatism and l Moll efficiency. Therefore, Defoe portrays Moll as a proto-feminist character, an individual with ambitious desires who relies on her own abilities to make her mark and achieve her goals. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay This independence and resourcefulness comes at a cost, however, a cost that complicates the early kind of feminist thought that Defoe is modeling. In demonstrating the qualities that make her a character who is mobile, detached, quick-thinking and able to move along the tides of changing circumstances and needs, Moll contradicts what Nancy Armstrong identifies as “the ideal of femininity” promoted by popular books by conduct of the 18th century. century: that of the domesticated woman. Armstrong argues that this idealized domestic “must have been devoid of the competitive desires and worldly ambitions which consequently belonged – as by some natural principle – to the male.” This defiance of tradition denotes his bold and courageous individualism, but it is also the source of the novel's most moralizing (or morally ambiguous) moments. It is these moments that suggest there is something suspicious or disturbing about Moll's "feminism". something in her character that is at odds with the prevailing eighteenth-century paradigm of femininity and moral correctness. An analysis of the ways in which Moll's feminism is constructed and a comparison of how these character or plot developments simultaneously promote but then problematize Moll's independence and individualism, such as her ability to recover from situations calamitous or marital failures, the way she treats her children and her entry into the hardened world of a street thief will highlight the discomfort of Moll Flanders' feminism. Ultimately, it is this significant conflict within the narrative that will suggest that Defoe's novel is proposing a new model of morality, dealing with the era of an emerging commercial economy in England. One of the ways in which Moll's feminism is thematized in Moll Flanders, is through her characterization as a balanced pragmatist, deeply aware, and operating in accordance with the bottom line. Moll recognizes the importance of money as the key to unlocking success, happiness, and stability in life, and uses her cunning and understanding of these economic truths to advance her particular position. He rises through the ranks to achieve the kind of elite, glamorous, or ultimately comfortable life he desires. For Moll, sexual pleasure is on par with, if not slightly subordinate to, her desire for material wealth. For example, in her first relationship with her older brother in Colchester, although she is attracted to him for his libertine qualities (i.e., good looks and dissolute charm), Moll is equally attracted to his money. When he makes a (false) proposal to herobtaining her consent to the affair, he completes his promise by offering Moll a silk purse of one hundred guineas, assuring her that he will continue to provide in this way every year until their marriage. . Moll recalls that, in response, she:The color came and went, at the sight of the bag, and with the fire of his proposal together; so that I could not say a word, and he easily perceived it; so putting the bag in my chest, I no longer resisted him, but simply let him do what he wanted (68). The money excites Moll, causing a flush of “color” to assail her cheeks, violent and intense in the way it has appeared and vanished so quickly (the lack of syntactic space between “came” and “went” highlights the speed of physical reaction). The bag (money) is used as a point of sexual contact and appears to be the factor that drives Moll to submit or accept the "proposal", especially (or in addition to) her lust for her older brother. Moll is also drawn to the allure of class status, as evidenced by her decision to marry the French draper after the death of her first husband (the romantic and honorable, but boring and unexciting Robin). Moll confesses that, at the time, he adored the spectacle and celebrity of a lavish lifestyle: "I loved indeed the company of men of gaiety and wit, men of gallantry and figure, and was often entertained with such" (104). She desires above all a man of "gallantry" for the distinction he bears, seeking a husband who was a "gentleman" and who wore a "sword" (the supreme sign of the gallant figure) (104). Her desire for a man, therefore, is only partially motivated by her sexual desires, and her need for a man extends only as far as how these can serve her specific money-seeking purposes. She constructs stratagems to deceive men into believing that she possesses a fortune, this fabrication of a dowry being a necessary manipulation of (and therefore justified by) her particular marriage and her selfish goals. Before embarking on the conquest that will end with her incestuous marriage to her brother, a sea captain, Moll recalls that “she therefore decided; regarding the state of my current circumstances; that it was absolutely necessary to change my station, and make a new appearance in some other place where I was not known, and even to pass under another name if I found occasion” (122). For the feminist Moll, then, men are (for the most part) simply pawns in the “subtle” “game” of social climbing that she desired and found necessary to “play” (124). However, although she still relies on the security afforded by considerable wealth, what Moll wants for herself and her husband varies with age, a sign that she recognizes the value of her marketable assets (i.e. her beauty and youth). After a series of marriages over the course of twenty years, an older Moll (sager) reflects that, at this time, she was "no longer the same woman" as in her past, because she "didn't look any better for [her] age” (181). As her physical worth diminishes, it seems that Moll’s ambitions also calm down slightly, as a realistic reaction to her economic position. It is at this point in the novel that she expresses a desire to “be placed in a state of stable life, and if [she] should happen to meet a good sober husband, [she] should be as faithful and as true a wife to him as virtue itself could form her” (182). It should also be kept in mind that, at this point in the text, Moll is without a husband or prospect of marriage, so she is faced with the imminent depletion of her security and the “terror of her impending poverty” (182). His more modest aspirations, then, mightalso be a tactical and sensible response to changed circumstances. That Moll can adapt her ambitions to match the practical demands of her circumstances highlights a resourcefulness and tenacity that is another element of her “feminism.” This flexibility (without totally compromising her core belief in the importance of money), marks her as an individual with agency and rationality, rarely someone who is so hysterical or emotional that she is unable to recover from a personal tragedy. It is Moll's resilience that allows her to withstand the difficulties of her uncertain situation between husbands, or recover from some of the truly terrible and potentially ruinous events in her life. One of these events is the aforementioned incestuous marriage; that is, the union with her husband/brother, the sea captain of Virginia. Once she has settled into a comfortable life on the plantation, Moll discovers that her mother-in-law is actually the biological mother from whom she was born in Newgate and from whom she was separated. Although this news was shocking to Moll and caused an “anguish of [her] mind” (136), she does not fall into hysterics. Rather, he undertakes to reflect, evaluate, and resolve, “on the calmest consideration” (137), how best to deal with this terrible miscarriage of a marital union. The same tactical and astute approach that Moll brings to his understanding and conducted within the marriage market, is highlighted in her ability to rationally face and resolve a truly ridiculous, catastrophic and potentially irreconcilable situation. Her "feminist" qualities, this pragmatism and firm determination (initially that of hiding the revelation from her husband. /brother, then to confess when it became too difficult to maintain the fiction of marriage), endowed Moll with the ability to survive incredible hardship, and recover from the taint of incest. These positive connotations of feminism that Defoe builds around his heroine, this abilities to easily forget and recover from tragedy (i.e., not to be destroyed by unmanageable emotions), while productive as they ensure Moll's survival as she climbs the social ladder, come at a "morally questionable price". Specifically, Moll's individual survival comes at the expense of her traditional domestic life, as illustrated in how she treats and regards her children. There are several moments in Moll Flanders where Moll simply abandons her children, such as when she finally walks away from her bed of incest in Virginia. After Robin's death, Moll is perfectly content, even relieved, with her children "happily" taken. from [his] hands” (102). The language here, "out of her hands", implies that at least these (if not all of her) children were an obstacle to Moll, anchoring her to a particular place (Colchester), thus preventing her from moving freely from town to town, from man to man, seeking his fortune. “Off her hands” also suggests that Moll's hands, the instruments of a mother's care, are somehow defective, incapable of bearing the weight and responsibility of her children. The practical demands and independence (and solipsism) of individualism would dictate that, in fact, abandoning her children was a necessary step for Moll to take, a sort of survival tactic, in order to sustain or maintain the his enterprising spirit. However, the narrative (or Defoe) questions the “morality” of compromised “domesticity” by including passages in which Moll, curiously, demonstrates some maternal instinct or regret. After her relationship with the Gentleman of Bath ends, Moll wonders what will happen to her son, saying: “I was veryperplexed about my baby; for me it was death to separate from the child, and yet, when I considered the danger of sooner or later being left with him to keep him without maintenance to support him, I decided to leave him where he was" (178). This conflict betrays both an affection innate to the child, is an understanding of the circumstances that allows Moll's "moral" choice to be dictated by a sober realism, in this case, that necessary choice does not seem to completely forgive or justify the blows suffered by domesticity At St. Jones Hospital, Moll's pregnancy before her marriage to the banker is seen as an inconvenience to be resolved. At the same time, however, Moll expresses a strong aversion to abortion, which the housekeeper suggests she might induce ( 228) Earlier in the text, Moll confesses that she would have been “glad to have an abortion,” but could never have “entertained even a thought of trying to have an abortion, or of taking anything to make her have an abortion” (219). And when she contemplates her impending separation from her newborn child, Moll cannot imagine this scenario "without horror" and says: "I wish all those women who consent to eliminate their children, as it is called for the sake of decency, would consider that it is only an invented method of killing; that is, killing one's children with safety” (233). He then continues for almost a page on the importance of affection for a child “placed by Nature” in a mother (234) . These inconsistencies, the moments in which the text sometimes allows Moll's contempt for her children, and then the passages where moral conflict or regret is expressed, deserve attention, since they highlight the anxieties of the novel (and of Defoe) that surround Moll's feminism and ardent individualism. It is almost as if the text, or Defoe as an author and the particular period in which he is writing, requires a conscious recognition of the questionable moral content of the novel feminists. Individualism that encourages the flexibility to move from one circumstance to another might also lead to a superficial contempt for one's children/mothering duties, a contempt that the practical demands of upward social mobility cannot quite justify. Moll's entry into the world of London's underground crime, i.e. her career as a thief, is another focal point or source of the novel's ambivalence towards feminism. On the one hand, theft provides Moll with a type of profession that she enjoys and from which she derives a sense of pride. She is a rather intelligent, skilled and cunning pickpocket. I became the greatest artist of my time, and managed to get out of every danger with such dexterity, that when many of my other companions rushed to Newgate, and by that time they had been After half a year at the trade, I had now practiced to more than five years, and the people of Newgate did not know me much; indeed they had heard much about me, and often waited for me there, but I always got away, though many times in extreme danger. (280) Within this criminal community, Moll is the best (of the worst). He attributes his success to “dexterity,” which implies an elegance in craftsmanship. Similarly, the fact that she mentions the number of years (five) she has been out of prison, compared to the relatively short period of freedom experienced by her lesser thieving peers (a year and a half), suggests that she believes she possesses a extraordinary ability that distinguishes her from the rest (and has guaranteed her protection). She works better alone, demonstrating that she does not need to depend on a man for financial support. Indeed, when Moll is paired with a male partner, he is the one who acts carelessly and with too much emotion. After spotting exposed silksthrough a shop window, Moll recalls that "this [sight] the young Fellow was so delighted, that he could not help himself... he swore violently to me that he would have it... I refused him a little, but he saw that there was no remedy, so she pounced recklessly” (282). Here, it seems that the male partner embodies more feminized qualities, such as impulsiveness and bouts of excitement, while Moll is again portraying the image of someone rational, cautious, and practical. Due to the hysteria he is affected by, the male partner is caught stealing and, while both he and Moll are chased, he is caught while Moll escapes thanks to her intelligence and quick thinking (she dressed a man during this After a theft, quickly runs into her housekeeper's house, takes off her disguise, puts on her usual clothes, and is able to disorientate her pursuers.) Moll's success as a pickpocket highlights her ability to fend for herself and "do herself own" money. However, it is important to note that this profession, this job that he does so well, is criminal and therefore morally questionable. It is an independent career that makes optimal use of Moll's independence and mobility, but it is a career that keeps her out of the home, pushes her onto the streets, and thus exposes her to vice and immorality. Her theft again calls Moll's “maternal” nature into question, suggesting her dangerous absence in Moll (a void that immoral self-interest can thus fill) when Moll steals a necklace directly from the person of a young dancer. At this moment, Moll admits that she briefly considered killing the child, but was actually “frightened” by her own momentary thought (257) (a moment of moral recognition that could, once again, be the text criticizing the blow dealt to domesticity by a flourishing feminism/individualism might be correct). To say that Defoe constructed a text that positions feminism as “good” and the loss of domesticity as “bad” is too simple a binary that ignores the dialectical relationship between individualism and kinship roles. Although Moll initially manifests or realizes these individualistic impulses through morally questionable activities – theft, deception, etc. – this is not to say that Moll Flanders imagines feminism (or the compromising of domestic life) as leading to bad behavior. Instead, perhaps Defoe is asking whether a woman in 17th or 18th century England could be considered “moral” or “good” if she existed outside the domestic sphere (which Moll does by birth, born to a mother and without mother). Could the eighteenth-century Englishwoman have courage, tenacity, and self-interest, and still be a good housekeeper? This question indicates or in some way anticipates a common criticism of capitalism: that it destroys the family and promotes or even requires a kind of freedom, mobility, and flexibility that conflict with the qualities of traditional domestic family life. The question, then, would be: How could a woman embody the individualistic, mobile, social-climbing traits associated with capitalism, in a patriarchal society structured around the woman's role as wife and mother? How can an individual like Moll, who possesses this entrepreneurial spirit, direct his ambitions towards productive ends in a society that has not yet defined a productive role for the "antidomestic"? In early libertine texts, options for women in a sexual perspective The commodified society was limited: she was sold on the marriage market, prostituted herself or became a nun, avoiding the issue of female sexuality altogether. In this context, virtue, itself a commodity, was the indicator of whether a woman was “morally good” (a woman of quality).