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- The lady with the barrel charm: ‘Unknown woman, formerly known as Margaret Pole’ An evaluation.
Unknown Artist, ‘Unknown Women, formerly known as Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury’ (circa 1535), National Portrait Gallery . ‘Unknown woman, formerly known as Margaret Pole’ is a portrait currently owned by the National Portrait Gallery. Margaret Pole, born 14 th August 1473, is an extremely interesting woman who experienced major fluctuations in her social standing from her birth, through the Wars of the Roses, the establishment of the Tudor regime and the oppressive Henrician age. Hence the title of the portrait, it has not been conclusively proven to be Margaret Pole and there has been debate on who exactly the sitter may be. This portrait has become an art history conundrum, the artist is unknown and the year of creation is an estimate, circa 1535. Originally, the portrait was confidently believed to be Margaret Pole but this was rescinded as a fact after examinations of the artwork in the 1960s and 1970s. Hilary Mantel noted that some original features may have been altered in the 20th century, such as the possibility that the black ribbon was added to hide damaged paint, this raised the question could the barrel charm have been added also? 1 Roy Strong noted that the portrait was first documented in 1785 and believed it to be a lady from the Barrington family playing the role of Margaret Pole, however, the National Portrait Gallery has identified the painting's origins as the 1530s so this argument is not completely persuasive. 2 There is little doubt that features have been altered on the painting but the questions are, which features have been altered and why? Unfortunately, it will likely never be known. Hazel Pierce has stood firm on her stance that as the barrel charm did not fade during the 1973 cleaning of the portrait it is more likely to be an original feature. 3 Pierce’s view is convincing, as the author of the first full biography on Margaret Pole her research was extensive and regarding this portrait, discussed with the National Portrait Gallery. The stance that this article will support is that the sitter is indeed Margaret Pole and from it historians can glean an insight into the countess and the treacherous medieval landscape in which she lived. Margaret’s parents were two nobles from the house of York, George, Duke of Clarence and Isabel Neville; the marriage had been part of a rebellion and a betrayal of George’s brother, King Edward IV, who had previously denied the union. Despite this, George and Isabel were forgiven and welcomed back into the Yorkist court. George however, never seemed to feel secure in his place within the regime. With Isabel’s death in 1476, George became increasingly erratic and destroyed any remaining patience Edward IV had with his displays of disloyalty. George was convinced that his brothers did not wish for him to obtain more wealth and power. This frustrated him greatly as he had vast ambitions for himself, thus he became riskier in his behaviour and involved in a string of legal disputes; the Duke refused to eat the King's food and his men were legally linked to the dark arts. The final straw for Edward IV was George’s judicial murder of Ankarette Twynho and John Thursby whom he believed to be responsible for the poisoning of his wife but were both almost certainly innocent. The image of the three brothers of York had been a powerful part of the Yorkist identity, brothers united against disputable Lancastrians who would shine the sun back on England. George’s behaviour though was erratic and untrustworthy. On 18th February 1478, George was executed for treason, reportedly by being “plunged into a barrel of sweet wine.”4 Margaret Pole was unlikely to remember much about her parents but the unhappy series of events that occurred after Isabel’s death had a profound impact on her life. George had died a traitor's death. Margaret was Yorkist royalty but also a traitor's daughter, these two things would come to define her reputation. His execution thrust her into a life of wardship that would only further change with the fall of the Yorkist dynasty. These would have been a major series of events in her life and perhaps years later, she memorialised them within portraiture. The rumours that have circulated around George’s execution focus on being drowned in a barrel of Malmsey wine. The rumour, started by Dominic Mancini, a peer with very little link to the Yorkist royals, could easily be false, but there has not been steadfast evidence against it either. Whether the barrel execution is true or false, it came to define George, Duke of Clarence in historiography where he has often been represented as fickle and foolish. Margaret Pole herself, went through dramatic changes of fortune during her adult life. Henry VII married her to Richard Pole, a staunch Lancastrian of humble standing; the couple had children, resided in the Ludlow household of Prince Arthur and settled into Tudor society. It was in the turbulent reign of Henry VIII and after the death of her husband however, that Margaret’s prominence rose. In 1512, Margaret regained her family’s wealth, titles and land, surpassing the expectations of her gender and becoming the only woman in England to hold a title in her own right, which she would be until 1532. Margaret showed herself to be ambitious and intelligent, she was also loyal and staunchly supported what she cared about, demonstrated by her actions regarding The Kings Great Matter which would eventually tie into the downfall of the Pole family. Margaret Pole lost standing with the King during the 1530s as she firmly planted herself in the Aragonese faction, interestingly, this is the estimated creation date of the portrait making it a vital timeframe to analyse. During the dissolution of Princess Mary’s household in 1533, Margaret refused to hand over the princess’ jewels and was dismissed from court. The Poles were also one of the noble families implicated in the Nun of Kent affair, a case inexplicitly linked to the growing treason laws and which demonstrated who in court was not supporting the new faith. In Europe, Margaret’s son Reginald, was on a catholic campaign to condemn the King’s actions. As long as he worked against the King abroad, his family would not be trusted at home. In a report from Eustace Chapuys from February 1535, Henry VIII supposedly referred to Margaret as a ‘fool of no experience,’ this personal insult demonstrated how far Margaret had come from being the trusted governess to Princess Mary years earlier.5 Henry VIII no longer approved of the Pole family and their matriarch and had no qualms about showing it. In the ‘Unknown Woman’ portrait, a barrel charm is visible on the wrist of the sitter. Margaret has not been conclusively identified as the subject of this painting but the barrel charm is the largest piece of evidence in favour of that stance, along with a W hanging off the black ribbon which would acknowledge her Warwick ancestry from her mothers side. The barrel is undoubtedly the most interesting of these motifs, as it would be a strange fashion choice unless the symbol meant something to the wearer or the viewers of the portrait. To the Pole family and those that knew them, it would mean very much indeed. If the barrel charm was an original feature, this portrait is very likely Margaret Pole subtly paying homage to her father. This is significant in multiple ways and, if we accept this portrait to be of Margaret, gives an insight into her boldness and how she felt towards the crown. Margaret would have been at the height of her wealth and influence visualising a charm that served as a memento of her father. Perhaps, in a nod to his own vast ambitions and in hopes that he would be proud of how high her effort had raised herself and her children. Or as a morbid reminder of how quickly one could fall from favoured courtesan to traitor. This portrait was created in the midst of an extremely dangerous period for Margaret Pole; treason laws were expanding and she had established herself as standing against the reformist court, as her son was actively campaigning against the King to catholic enemies of England. Yet, she was further associating herself with an executed traitor whilst simultaneously harking back to her family's royal legacy. Not only would this portrait have reminded people of the powerful dynasty Margaret came from but it looks humbly regal, she is graceful and surrounded by rich green hues. This is even more fascinating with the rumours that emerged from Chapuys of a plan to marry Reginald to Princess Mary and create a new claim to the throne, according to Lauren Mackay, Chapuys was corresponding with Reginald and meeting Geoffrey Pole frequently. 6 This plan never amounted to anything, but could this portrait have even been a reminder of the Yorkist legacy of the Pole family and eligibility to the throne? Could the barrel charm hint to a proud, rebellious attitude that Margaret and her children had gained from George, Duke of Clarence, who never caved on doing what he wished no matter how detrimental it could be. Or perhaps it served as a reminder to herself and the Pole family of how far one could fall if they walked the tightrope of traitorous behaviour, no matter who they were nor how regal their legacy was. It would be impossible to know exactly what was intended by this portrait and there are no surviving accounts from Margaret herself that shed light on any portraiture during her life. Could the barrel, when paired with the W, have been an effort to memorialise her parents or does this seem too much and more likely to have been added later to promote the image of Margaret Pole? Whilst both are possible, this was a contentious time in Margaret’s life, she and her children would have known how easy it would be to fall victim to Henry VIII’s executioner as had happened to many courtiers by the 1530s. Therefore, it would be reasonable for one to become mindful about their family and legacy and no small memento in a portrait would necessarily be too much. Portraits were designed to be long lasting and present a legacy to future generations. This was the era in which artists, such as Hans Holbein the Younger, created characterisations of Tudor figures through portraiture (or lack thereof) that have only recently begun to be deconstructed and viewed in more nuanced ways. This portrait then, could be evidence of the monumental effect that the execution of George, Duke of Clarence had on his daughter. If this is indeed Margaret Pole, then fifty-seven years later she was using not his badge, nor a Yorkist motif, but the method of his supposed fools execution as a token in a medium designed to be part of her future image for years to come. Additionally, doing this at a time when she was teetering on the edge of being viewed as a traitor would hint that she wanted to portray a strong message to King and court. This would display a pride in her legacy and bravery. This could be then, a dangerous and touching representation of herself to present to the ruthless world of Henrician England. No matter what is true or false, because Margaret has been linked to this portrait and George, Duke of Clarence linked to the barrel of malmsley wine for so long, they are explicitly bonded together through these things as unfortunate victims of traitor culture in historic regimes. There is no evidence that Margaret explicitly violated the Act of Supremacy or committed treason, which means that either she was innocent or she learnt from the rebellions that her father so proudly took part in and hid her actions better than he had. In her children however, the reckless abandon that harked back to George, Duke of Clarence was rife and they did not cover their actions well enough. It was with Reginald Pole’s explicit catholic campaign, Lord Montagu Pole's loose lips and Geoffrey Pole's tortured implication of his family that Margaret Pole was arrested. On 27th May 1541, with an Act of Attainder and no concrete evidence of treason, Margaret Pole was executed at sixty-seven years old. According to the French ambassador, this consolidated the “total ruin of her house.” 7 Margaret Pole’s life was dramatic, she navigated treacherous times and was witness to prolific reigns of English History. There is sadly a lack of conclusive evidence outside of her household accounts that directly allows historians to know her as a person, which is so often the case with historical women. This is also echoed with the mystery of this portrait and the question of whether or not she is the sitter. If the lady with the barrel charm is Margaret Pole, history certainly stands to gain slightly more insight into her courageous character and fascinating life. Hilary Mantel, ‘How do we know her?’, London Review of Books , Vol.39, No.3, February 2017 Hazel Pierce, Margaret Pole: Countess of Salisbury 1473-1541 , (Cardiff, 2003) p.198 Ibid Michael Hicks, False, Fleeting, Perjur’d Clarence: George Duke of Clarence 1449-78 , (Gloucester, 1980) p.200. Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, Henry VIII , Volume 8, January-July 1535, pp. 98-124, 1885. https://www.british-history.ac.uk/letters-papers-hen8/vol8 . Date Accessed 14th August 2025. Lauren Mackay, Inside the Tudor Court: Henry VIII and his six wives through the eyes of the Spanish Ambassador , (Gloucestershire, 2015) Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, Henry VIII, Volume 16, 1540-1541. N.p., 1898. Print. https://www.british-history.ac.uk/letters-papers-hen8/vol16/pp409-429 Date Accessed 14th August 2025. Bibliography/Further Reading Hicks, Michael, False, Fleeting, Perjur’d Clarence: George Duke of Clarence 1449-78 , (Gloucester, 1980) Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, Henry VIII , Volume 8, January-July 1535, pp. 98-124, 1885. https://www.british-history.ac.uk/letters-papers-hen8/vol8 . Date Accessed 14th August 2025. Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, Henry VIII, Volume 16, 1540-1541. N.p., 1898. Print. https://www.british-history.ac.uk/letters-papers-hen8/vol16/pp409-429 Date Accessed 14th August 2025. Lauren Mackay, Inside the Tudor Court: Henry VIII and his six wives through the eyes of the Spanish Ambassador , (Gloucestershire, 2015) Mancini, Dominic, The Usurpation of Richard III , ed. C. A. J Armstrong, (Oxford, 1969). Mantel, Hilary, ‘How do we know her?’, London Review of Books , Vol.39, No.3, February 2017. Penn, Thomas, The Brothers York: An English Tragedy , (London, 2019) Pierce, Hazel, Margaret Pole: Countess of Salisbury 1473-1541 , (Cardiff, 2003) Unknown Artist, ‘Unknown Women, formerly known as Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury’ (circa 1535), National Portrait Gallery .
- Puppets on a String: an autopsy of femininity in 1960s British Pop
Femininity was of key importance in the construction of the public identities of female pop stars in 1960s Britain. Utilising the work of Gender historians, who have established the malleability of gender and how it is crafted in the establishment of public identities, this essay will discuss the varied ways the femininity of 1960s female pop stars was presented to the British public. [1] Through the careful analysis of the careers of Sandie Shaw and Marianne Faithfull, I will illustrate how the diverse constructions of femininity were employed not only as a marketing tactic but also as a tool to assert proper codes of conduct for women in 1960s Britain. Furthermore, the evaluation of their careers exhibits the significant anxieties surrounding gender in post-war Britain and the manner in which societal discourses influenced representations of femininity in mainstream popular culture. Figure 1: Sandie Shaw, 1960s. Sandie Shaw rose to fame in 1964 following the release of the single ‘(There’s) Always Something There to Remind Me ’ and garnered further success with the singles ‘ Long Live Love ’ and ‘ Puppet on a String ’, the latter winning the 1967 ‘ Eurovision Song Contest ’. Shaw became known for her theatrical style, her habit of not wearing shoes, and her romantic yet childlike songs. Femininity was a central component in the formation of Shaw’s identity as a musician, and in the way she was discussed in the media. Upon the outset of her career, Shaw was marketed as familiar and embodying a feminine paradigm that was relatable to the young women and girls of the 1960s. This is illustrated clearly by Tom Hutchinson, who wrote in the Women’s Mirror that Shaw was ‘a girl in a million, because she’s a girl like a million’. [2] Shaw was marketed to young women as someone they could relate to, but more pertinently, as an exemplary model of an acceptable feminine paradigm that could be replicated by young British women. This phenomenon has been identified by feminist scholars, such as Valerie Walkerdine, as a form of social conditioning that coerces women into expressions of femininity that are deemed appropriate within patriarchal societies. Within the context of post-war Britain, this was typically through representations of girlhood and womanhood in popular culture output (such as magazines, music and television). This can be seen within the aforementioned quote by Hutchinson, which champions Shaw’s admirable normalcy alongside her femininity. Born into a working-class family in Dagenham, Shaw worked in a factory before being discovered in 1964. [3] This origin was routinely emphasised in the press surrounding her, establishing her as an ordinary teenager whose success was possible for other teenage girls. [4] Alexandra M. Apolloni illustrates that Shaw was presented as a ‘real-life Cinderella’ who, despite her success, remained representative of the majority of young British women . [5] The repeated emphasis on ‘normality’, and indeed of the mundane, in the marketing of Shaw’s image was reflective of the rapid social change occurring in post-war Britain. Therefore, considering Shaw’s public persona was marketed as representative of the experiences of the majority of young British women in the 1960s, we can perceive the tensions and concerns surrounding femininity reflected within it. When analysing the discourses surrounding Shaw and, indeed, how she represented herself, the tensions between conservative and liberal attitudes surrounding gender in 1960s Britain are evident. The lives of working-class women were rapidly changing. For example, the traditional occupation for working-class women, domestic services, was on a steady decline, and the traditionally middle-class and male-dominated office work was now the vocation of 40% of young women between the ages of 15 and 17 . [6] Furthermore, educational opportunities for women had significantly transformed in the post-war period, with 30% of British university students being women in 1962. [7] However, as Andrew August argued, conservative gender roles were still significantly present during the 1960s, as evidenced by the average age of marriage, which dropped from 24.6 in 1951 to 22.6 in 1971. [8] Women’s experiences of 1960s Britain were therefore complex, navigating a society that was simultaneously offering newfound freedom, all the while still championing patriarchal structures that sought to limit said freedom. Such a dichotomy is notably present within Shaw’s public image. This is exemplified by a 1967 television performance of ‘ Puppet on a String ’, which focuses on Shaw singing alongside a swimming pool that has children playing within it. [9] Upon first glance, Shaw appears to be the epitome of ‘swinging culture’, dressed in a crocheted mini-dress and walking around barefoot (Fig. 1). In the performance, Shaw is sartorially presented as a distinctly modern and liberal woman, with her bare feet and sheer dress signifying anti-establishment sensibilities. However, as the performance progresses, she moves towards the playing children and begins to playfully splash them as she sings (Fig. 2). Figure 2: : Sandie Shaw performing ‘Puppet on a String’ on an unidentified television show, 1967. Figure 3: : Sandie Shaw performing ‘Puppet on a String’ on an unidentified television show, 1967. Therefore, while Shaw’s dress is evocative of anti-establishment sentiment, her actions within the performance place her in a maternal role. This is emphasised by the set, which is a recreation of a suburban garden, directly placing Shaw within the domestic sphere. Shaw’s rebellious fashion, contrasting the domestic setting, illustrates well the manner in which her femininity was employed to represent the inherent tensions that were felt by young women in the 1960s. This is made all the more evident by the lyrics of ‘ Puppet on a String ’, which Shaw was obliged to sing following a 1967 public vote. [10] While Shaw disliked the misogynistic content of the song, Apolloni argues that she was convinced to accept the vote due to public concern surrounding her perceived subversion of acceptable gender expression. [11] This concern originated to Shaw being cited in the divorce proceedings of TV executive Douglas Murdoch, who was alleged to have engaged in an extramarital affair with her. [12] This resulted in significant public outrage and a smear campaign which castigated Shaw as ‘a manipulative femme fatale who deliberately disrupted the marriage’. [13] Her role as an icon of attainable femininity was jeopardised as Shaw was perceived to have subverted this feminine paradigm and contributed to the widespread anxiety surrounding the sexualities of young women. Such widespread moral outrage is indicative of the societal anxiety surrounding sexuality that was engendered by the increasing autonomy allotted to women by such innovations as the 1961 introduction of the birth control pill. [14] While it is not explicitly stated, it is evident that the song was a part of a wider effort to reframe Shaw’s femininity in reaction to her transgression of acceptable gender roles. The lyrical content of the song further confirms this argument as it places Shaw in a distinctly subservient and patriarchal role. The lyrics to ‘ Puppet on a String ’ are markedly dissimilar to those of her prior hits. While songs such as ‘ There’s Always Something (There to Remind Me) ’ and ‘ Girl Don’t Come ’ follow the pattern of love songs of the era, a protagonist longing for emotional fulfilment or dealing with heartbreak, they still assert agency for the songs' female narrators. This can be illustrated by ‘ Girl Don’t Come ’, which is centred around a man’s disappointment at having been stood up on a date. The song is not judgmental of the woman for standing her date up, and instead focuses on the man’s feelings of romantic rejection. More broadly, this normalises women’s autonomy within their romantic life, presenting it as unremarkable. However, following Shaw’s perceived breach of acceptable behaviour for women, it became necessary to reject Shaw’s previous image of relative autonomy by depicting her in a significantly patriarchal manner. The lyrics to ‘ Puppet on a String ’ are markedly patriarchal, with the song’s narrator declaring that she will be ‘like a puppet on a string’ for the man she loves. [15] The song’s childlike melody is bolstered by lyrics of ‘merry-go-rounds’ and ‘fairs’, consequently ‘infantilising’ Shaw and depicting her as needing the control of a man. [16] The varied representations of Shaw’s femininity demonstrate how femininity as a concept was integral to the creation of the stage personas of female singers in the 1960s. The singers themselves were utilised as expressions of femininity that reflected the lived realities of women, therefore ensuring their marketability. However, when this curated image was jeopardized a traditional and patriarchal image of femininity was enacted to keep them within the confines of respectability. This further illustrates that while the 1960s saw definite progress for women’s rights, it remained a distinctly patriarchal decade in which a woman’s worth was inherently associated with the reproduction of an acceptable feminine paradigm. Figure 4: Marianne Faithfull, 1960s. Another key example of popular singers being utilised as symbols of femininity in 1960s Britain is the career of Marianne Faithfull. Faithfull’s early career, which saw success in 1965 with the release of ‘ Marianne Faithfull ’, was characterised by a significant focus on her expression of femininity. Much like Shaw’s career, Faithfull’s femininity was distinctly politicised and came to symbolise the wider political climate of 1960s Britain. However, unlike Shaw’s attainable image and working-class origins, Faithfull came to represent ‘a galvanizing idea of feminine sexuality and class’ that was reliant upon her presentation as a symbol of the white upper-class English woman, reflecting the class anxieties of the period. [17] Faithfull’s mother was ‘Baroness Erisso’ of the defunct Austro-Hungarian nobility, and these aristocratic origins were of key significance in the construction of her femininity. [18] Faithfull’s aristocratic pedigree was intentionally emphasised: in a 1964 press release, she was described as ‘a poetry reading sophisticate’. [19] Such descriptions were aided by Faithfull’s notably upper-class singing voice, sonically expressing to listeners her aristocratic heritage. Unlike Shaw, whose interviewers largely asked questions about domestic or trivial matters, such as lifestyle and leisure, Faithfull’s education was emphasised. In a 1968 interview with the BBC, Phillip Jenkinson asked her a broad spectrum of questions ranging from contemporary psychology to her belief in the afterlife. [20] The attention given to her superior education served to assert Faithfull as an intellectual and distinctly aristocratic woman. This was similarly expressed through her music, often exhibiting her upper-class education by singing in French or setting poetry to music. The marketing of Faithfull as a paragon of upper-class womanhood was inherently racialised. Scholars have noted that it served to ‘cast her as the apotheosis of English womanhood, a symbol of racial purity’. [21] While Faithfull’s aristocratic heritage was Austro-Hungarian, her received pronunciation and ‘haughty’ manner were evocative of a distinctly English tradition of nobility. [22] Faithfull’s whiteness, and particularly her blondeness, were central to her image as the ultimate example of English femininity. The aforementioned 1964 press release described Faithful as ‘lissome and lovely with long blonde hair’. [23] Music mogul Kim Fowley further illustrates this point when describing Faithfull as a ‘big-titted Aryan Goddess, the peak of wet-pussy goddess’. [24] Fowley’s deplorable racism and misogyny exemplify that Faithfull’s white Englishness was fetishised and held up as a racialised symbol of a mythic sense of English femininity. This image was not solely interpreted by those who interacted with Faithfull’s music but was, in fact, propagated by Faithfull and her management. This is not to say that Faithfull viewed herself as a paragon of white femininity; rather, her music catalogue helped reproduce this image alongside the wider political landscape of post-war Britain. This argument is exemplified by Faithfull’s 1966 album ‘North Country Maid’ . This album consisted of covers of contemporary and traditional folk songs, with 6 of its 12 tracks being renditions of traditional British and Irish folk ballads. While folk music is a diverse music genre, the work of scholars such as Caroline Lucas demonstrates how modern British folk music can ‘produce whiteness’, and, that ‘English folk music can be understood as encoded with racialised meanings which reproduce whiteness within the nation’. [25] This is particularly true in the case of British folk music originating in the 1960s, which Julia Mitchell argues ‘echoed anxieties’ concerning immigration. [26] These anxieties often manifested in a mythic idealisation of an older Britain that was divorced from modern contemporary reality and often explicitly white. [27] Therefore, Faithfull’s recording of traditional folk ballads in ‘ North Country Maid ’ can be seen alongside such discourses. Faithfull’s musical output is inherently English, with numerous covers of iconic songs from English history, such as her 1964 cover of ‘ Greensleeves ’. While Faithfull herself certainly wasn’t a white supremacist, notably opposing Brexit and its racist underpinnings, the construction of her femininity as inherently white, alongside her recordings of historically English songs, was symptomatic of a growing English nativism and a racist cultural nostalgia. In fact, Faithfull’s anti-racist viewpoints exhibit how little agency musicians had in the construction and reception of their own image. The cultural anxieties of the period, such as feminine agency in the case of Shaw and racist anxieties in the case of Faithfull, were projected onto them by the public and their own management. As was perceived in the career of Shaw, the femininity of women pop stars in the 1960s was malleable and altered in response to social concerns and public scandal. Regarding Faithfull’s career, the widespread outrage following her 1967 arrest for drug possession, alongside her boyfriend Mick Jagger, stemmed from the emphasis on female purity and whiteness within her early career. Following the arrest and during the very public trial, Faithfull was acutely vilified for supposed corruption. [28] Apolloni astutely argues that this vilification of Faithfull is illustrative of a supposed breach of her racialised feminine archetype, as her romantic relationship with Jagger was representative of the corruption of her white femininity. [29] While Jagger is white, scholars of music history have demonstrated that rock music was explicitly racialised upon its introduction to the British market and was seen to be a potentially corruptive influence due to its association with black culture. [30] As Lee Marshall demonstrates, ‘the Stones explicitly aligned themselves to black music and black musicians’, consequently establishing themselves in the minds of white Britons as an example of the increasingly multicultural music industry, and more broadly British society as a whole. [31] Their appropriation of traditionally black musical styles, such as soul or r&b, established a sonic association between the white band members and black culture. To those who upheld the racist notion of racial and cultural corruption stemming from increased contact with black people and black culture, white men like Jagger appropriating black cultural output were perceived as evidence of white cultural decay at the hands of increased cultural contact. While he was never viewed as anything other than a white man, his cultural output made him a symbol of cross-cultural contact, and as Riley summarises, threatened ‘the exclusivity and whiteness of British identity’. [32] With this racist notion in mind, Faithfull’s arrest alongside Jagger was perceived as a transgression of her established image as a symbol of white femininity and further evidence of the perils facing white women in a multicultural Britain. This is best exemplified in a letter sent to Faithfull during the trial, which stated, ‘the sooner you leave this island with your long blond hair floating in the sea, it will be a cleaner place’. [33] The writer is evidently of the opinion that this feminine paradigm has been sullied, as they illustratively describe Faithfull as being a pollutive influence on British society by stating that Britain would be ‘cleaner’ in her absence. Its description of Faithfull’s blondeness makes the racialised facet of her identity plain; what she was once celebrated for was now used against her due to perceived transgression. Through this letter, it is evident that Faithfull’s arrest was perceived, at least by some, as evidence of the corruption of her established feminine paradigm, which was inherently associated with a racialised understanding of English womanhood. Unlike Shaw, who released her greatest hit ‘Puppet on a String’ in response to a gendered public scandal, Faithfull’s 1960s career did not recover. Following the trial, she descended into drug addiction and experienced homelessness before her meteoric comeback in 1979 with ‘Broken English, released 12 years after the arrest. Through the analysis of Shaw and Faithfull’s femininities, it is abundantly clear that the femininity of pop stars was presented in varied ways that were reflective of their own personal histories and the wider societal discourses surrounding gender, race and class. Shaw’s presentation was indicative of a societal tension between traditional gender roles and the increasing opportunities that were available for women in 1960s Britain. Depictions of Shaw’s eccentric and mildly rebellious femininity were still entirely dependent on the reassurance that she was acting within the confines of traditional gender ideals. This is evidenced not only by her performances, which contrasted her eccentricity with the domestic, but by her acutely patriarchal depictions following her perceived gender transgression. Faithfull’s femininity was similarly politicised; however, hers was dependent on a racialised notion of English womanhood that allowed her to be presented as an exemplary model of white English femininity. In the same manner that Shaw’s presentation of femininity was indicative of wider discourses surrounding gender, Faithfull’s emerged from the racist discourses surrounding the ‘exclusivity of Britishness’ that arose in post-war Britain. However, as was witnessed with Shaw, Faithfull’s transgression of this racialised view of English femininity resulted in widespread condemnation. Both women’s presentations of femininity arose from the complex dialogues surrounding gender and race in 1960s Britain and were central to the construction of their public identities. [1] Namely Judith Butler and Alexandra M. Apolloni. [2] Alexandra M. Apolloni, ‘ Freedom Girls: Voicing Femininity in 1960s British Pop ’ (Oxford University Press, 2021), pp. 51 [3] ‘Sandie Shaw (MBE) - Dagenham’s Eurovision Superstar’, East End Women’s Museum, 13 May 2022 < https://eastendwomensmuseum.org/blog/2022/5/11/sandie-shaw > [Accessed 7 May 2025] [4] Apolloni, pp. 49. [5] Apolloni, pp. 49. [6] Andrew August, ‘Gender and 1960s Youth Culture: The Rolling Stones and the New Woman’, Contemporary British History , vol. 23, 1 (2009), pp. 79-100 (pp. 81) [7] August, pp. 81 [8] August, pp. 81 [9] Sandie Shaw Channel, ‘Puppet on a String 1967’, December 24 2024 < https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uot2CpkEb8Q > [Accessed 28 April 2025] [10] Apolloni, pp. 63 [11] IBID. [12] IBID. [13] IBID. [14] Vicky Iglikowski-Broad, ‘Just a pill: 60 years of the contraceptive pill on the NHS ’ , National Archives, 4 December 2021 < https://blog.nationalarchives.gov.uk/just-a-pill-60-years-of-the-contraceptive-pill-on-the-nhs/ > [Accessed 2 May 2025] [15] Sandie Shaw, ‘Puppet on a String’, from Puppet on a String (Pye, 1967) [16] Apolloni, pp. 65 [17] Apolloni, pp. 196 [18] Apolloni, pp. 196-197 [19] Apolloni, pp. 202 [20] Phillip Jackson, ‘1968: MARIANNE FAITHFULL Talking | Film Review | Classic Interviews | BBC Archive’, Youtube, 31 January 2025 < https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qwG55RBL89g&t=729s > [Accessed 5 May 2025] [21] Apolloni, pp. 206 [22] Apolloni, pp. 203 [23] Apolloni, pp. 199 [24] Apolloni, pp. 203 [25] Caroline Lucas, The Imagined Folk of England: Whiteness, Folk Music and Fascism, Critical Race and Whiteness Studies , vol. 9, 1 (2012), pp. 1-19 (pp. 1) [26] Julia Mitchell, ‘ Postwar Politics, Society and the Folk Revival in England, 1945-65 ’ (Bloomsbury, 2019), pp. 80 [27] Lucas, pp. 1 [28] Apolloni, pp. 209 [29] Apolloni, pp. 209 [30] Apolloni, pp. 170 and 199 [31] Lee Marshal, ‘The Greatest Rock and Soul Band in the World? The Rolling Stones, genre and race’, Popular Music , vol. 73, 1 (2024), pp. 72-87 (pp. 83) [32] Riley, pp. 150 [33] Apolloni, pp. 210 Bibliography Apolloni, Alexandra M., ‘ Freedom Girls: Voicing Femininity in 1960s British Pop ’ (Oxford University Press, 2021) August, Andrew, ‘Gender and 1960s Youth Culture: The Rolling Stones and the New Woman’, Contemporary British History , vol. 23, 1 (2009), pp. 79-100 Brocken, Michael, Derek B. Scott and Stan Hawkins, ‘The British Folk Revival: 1944-2002’ (Taylor & Francis, 2017) Hodgkinson, Mark, ‘ As Years Go By: Marianne Faithfull ’ (Omnibus Press, 2013) Iglikowski-Broad, Vicky, ‘Just a pill: 60 years of the contraceptive pill on the NHS ’ , National Archives, 4 December 2021 < https://blog.nationalarchives.gov.uk/just-a-pill-60-years-of-the-contraceptive-pill-on-the-nhs/ > [Accessed 2 May 2025] Lucas, Caroline, The Imagined Folk of England: Whiteness, Folk Music and Fascism, Critical Race and Whiteness Studies , vol. 9, 1 (2012), pp. 1-19 Marshal, Lee, ‘The Greatest Rock and Soul Band in the World? The Rolling Stones, genre and race’, Popular Music , vol. 73, 1 (2024), pp. 72-87 Mitchell, Julia, ‘ Postwar Politics, Society and the Folk Revival in England, 1945-65 ’ (Bloomsbury, 2019) Riley, Charlotte Lydia, ‘ Imperial Island: A History of Empire in Modern Britain ’ (Random House, 2023) Staubmann, Helmut (ed), ‘ The Rolling Stones: Sociological Perspectives (Lexington Books, 2013) Walkerdine, Valerie, ‘Femininity as Performance’, Oxford Review of Education , vol. 15, 3 (1989), pp. 267-279 Websites ‘A summary history of immigration to Britain’, Migration Watch UK, 12 May 2014 < https://www.migrationwatchuk.org/briefing-paper/48/a-summary-history-of-immigration-to-britain > [Accessed 10 May 2025] Agence France-Presse, ‘J.K. Rowling and other celebrities mourn Brexit vote: ‘I don’t think I’ve ever wanted magic more’’, Raw Story , 25 June 2016 < https://www.rawstory.com/2016/06/j-k-rowling-and-other-celebrities-mourn-brexit-vote-i-don’t-think-ive-ever-wanted-magic-more/ > [Accessed 2 May 2025] Phillip Jackson, ‘1968: MARIANNE FAITHFULL Talking | Film Review | Classic Interviews | BBC Archive’, Youtube, 31 January 2025 < https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qwG55RBL89g&t=729s > [Accessed 5 May 2025] ‘Sandie Shaw (MBE) – Dagenham’s Eurovision Superstar’, East End Women’s Museum, 13 May 2022 < https://eastendwomensmuseum.org/blog/2022/5/11/sandie-shaw > [Accessed 7 May 2025] Sandie Shaw Channel, ‘Puppet on a String 1967’, December 24 2024 < https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uot2CpkEb8Q > [Accessed 28 April 2025] Music Faithfull, Marianne, ‘ Come My Way ’ (Decca, 1965) ______, ‘ Love in a Mist ’ (Decca, 1967) ______ , ‘ North Country Maid’ (Decca, 1966) Shaw, Sandie, ‘Girl Don’t Come’, from Sandie (Pye, 1965) ______ , ‘Puppet on a String’, from Puppet on a String (Pye, 1967)
- Exploring Kate Chopin's Feminist Legacy in
Chopin in 1895 Kate Chopin is often regarded as one of the earliest feminist voices in American literature. She is frequently credited with introducing modern feminist ideas into fiction. However, her place within the feminist movement is far from settled. Critics like Christina R. Williams (2017) view Chopin as a clear early feminist, citing her bold portrayals of women who challenge societal boundaries. Conversely, Elizabeth Fox-Genovese argues that her writing transcends easy categorization, probing deeper questions about human desire, freedom, and society itself. The Complexity of Feminism in Chopin's Work The debate surrounding Chopin’s connection to feminism hinges on our understanding of feminism today versus in her time. Modern radical feminism often prioritises gender issues but can overlook the broader social and institutional forces that underpin women’s oppression. This narrow perspective may fail to encapsulate the essence of Chopin’s narratives, which delve into how family structures and societal expectations dictate women’s lives. Her work is not solely about male dominance; it scrutinises the intricate traditions and pressures that confine women. As Fox-Genovese insightfully notes, “Kate was nonetheless a woman who took women extremely seriously,” which lies at the heart of her writing. In this context, we shall closely examine Chopin’s renowned short story The Story of an Hour , which addresses the dynamics of the male–female marital relationship. Chopin clearly posits that the existing form of this relationship effectively suppresses female identity and selfhood. The death of Mr. Mallard signifies the end of Mrs. Mallard's silenced existence. This sudden realisation engenders an immensely powerful feeling of freedom from the constraints of such a relationship, as she envisions “beyond that bitter moment a long possession of years to come that would belong to her absolutely.” The Irony of Joy and Freedom The notion that the “joy” she experiences could be monstrous is dismissed as “trivial” by a “dear and exalted perception.” Through this “perception,” Chopin unveils the mechanisms at play within the institution of marriage in a conventional setting, which stifles individuality and personal identity. “There would be no powerful will bending hers in that blind persistence with which men and women believe they have a right to impose a private will upon a fellow-creature. A kind intention or a cruel intention made the act seem no less a crime as she looked upon it in that brief moment of illumination.” When we couple this exploration of marital relationships with the symbolism in the story, which equates her freedom with the blossoming of nature, we grasp the point Chopin seeks to convey: the institution of marriage is unnatural and rooted in the domination of one individual by another. This domination can manifest subtly, often disguised as love, which is merely a euphemism for an exercise of power. It is intriguing to observe how these insights resonate with the perspectives of both Christina R. Williams and Elizabeth Fox-Genovese. Any text penned by a female author and centred on a female character inevitably engages with feminist concerns. Yet, due to Chopin’s complex themes and motives, it is challenging to confine her work within a rigid “feminist dogma” in the contemporary sense. Feminism itself is a layered and evolving discourse that cannot be reduced to a single, fixed position. However, in Chopin’s writing, we can discern an early, emerging feminist voice. The Narrative Arc of The Story of an Hour The narrative of The Story of an Hour is deceptively simple. Mrs. Mallard, who suffers from heart trouble, is informed of her husband’s death in an accident. Initially, she grieves but soon retreats to her room, where she experiences an exhilarating sense of freedom. When she descends the stairs and sees her husband alive at the front door, she is shocked, utters a piercing shriek, and dies. Chopin employs a minimalist approach, economising on both words and action. The basic exposition provided in the first two paragraphs reveals little about Mr. Mallard and focuses predominantly on Mrs. Mallard. Her delicate condition is mentioned right at the outset, and it is her sister who takes great care in delivering the news of her husband’s death. Notably, there is little mention of the husband initially, save for the fact that his friend has brought the news. The narrative centres entirely on her, with the entire plot revolving around her experience. This deliberate choice hints at the deeper mystery of their marriage. The absence of Mr. Mallard positions their relationship squarely within the conventional framework of power dynamics. Their union does not appear to be a love marriage that transcends societal expectations; rather, it resembles a typical marriage of convenience, sustained and shaped by social conventions designed to suppress womanhood. The Point of View and Character Development The story is narrated from a third-person limited perspective. The only thoughts we access are those of Mrs. Mallard, or Louise. Initially, she struggles to reflect on her own state. However, as she becomes aware of her situation and emotions, embracing them with “wild abandonment,” we gain insight into her character, revealing its complexities. Yet, as she descends the stairs, we are abruptly cut off from her thoughts. This manipulation of her point of view is executed with striking effect. While there is minimal conflict in the story, a moment of tension arises when Mrs. Mallard attempts to resist the "something" that, after a brief struggle, overtakes her. What she experiences is not an inner conflict but rather a tumult that fills her with the joy of newfound freedom. “There was something coming to her and she was waiting for it, fearfully. What was it? She did not know; it was too subtle and elusive to name. But she felt it, creeping out of the sky, reaching toward her through the sounds, the scents, the colour that filled the air.” The irony in the story is particularly captivating and serves as a strong element throughout the narrative, not merely in its conclusion. Chopin’s commentary on the institution of marriage is profoundly ironic. The marital relationship, which is ostensibly founded on love, is, in reality, a power struggle in which “men and women believe they have a right to impose a private will upon a fellow-creature.” The Duality of Love and Suppression The cement of love is, in fact, synonymous with the suppression of a woman’s identity and selfhood. From this fundamental irony arises the entire ironic situation of Mrs. Mallard, who feels liberated and exalted at the death of her husband, a man who had shown her nothing but love in their relationship. The ironic nature of the “heart trouble” she suffers from becomes increasingly apparent as we gradually uncover that it refers more to her spiritual condition than to a physical ailment. This leads us to the ultimate irony. When her death, upon discovering her husband is alive, is interpreted as “the joy that kills,” we encounter one irony beautifully concealed within another. Here, “joy” not only refers to the perception of those attempting to explain her death but may also serve as an ironic reference to her joyful state, the sudden end of which—and its ultimate futility—actually causes her demise. Symbolism and Nature in Chopin's Narrative The story is rich with symbolism drawn from nature, evident in the words and expressions Chopin employs, as well as in the immediate settings she creates. Mrs. Mallard’s “comfortable, roomy armchair” facing the “open window” suggests her longing and desire to escape the confines of her life, yearning to step through the open window that leads to a world where “the tops of trees are all aquiver with the new spring life.” “She could see in the open square before her house the tops of trees that were all aquiver with the new spring life. The delicious breath of rain was in the air. In the street below, a peddler was crying his wares. The notes of a distant song, which someone was singing, reached her faintly, and countless sparrows were twittering in the eaves.” The contrast between the vibrant world outside, teeming with motion, and her life, in which she “sat with her head thrown back upon the cushion of the chair, quite motionless,” is striking. She finds the breath of rain quite “delicious,” and she too has been crying. This imagery symbolically represents her feelings about her situation. She is severed from the natural, dynamic world that exists beyond the confines of her life, which is tethered to the norms of the relationship she is or was in. She savours the delicious air of freedom but is left only to shed tears near the window, which seems to offer an opportunity not just to witness free life from a distance but to venture out and embrace it. This illuminates the fundamental structure of their marriage, revealing it as an institution grounded in tradition rather than the genuine reciprocity of love and the shared freedom characteristic of true comradeship. While Mr. Mallard appears unburdened and free to traverse the world, Mrs. Mallard remains constrained, her emotions stifled and her voice silenced. Her estrangement from herself is so profound that it seems as though she is, at long last, rediscovering her own being after years of inner suppression. Her shackles, though imperceptible, lie beneath the surface of a relationship that outwardly offers care and affection yet systematically denies her freedom. In this regard, Mrs. Mallard exemplifies what Simone de Beauvoir critiques in The Second Sex when she writes, “Genuine marriage would presuppose liberty and equality, both of which have been denied to women in patriarchal societies.” Beauvoir highlights that true love is founded on freedom, not restriction, regardless of how disguised it may be. A genuine relationship fosters individual growth, allowing people to breathe and become their authentic selves. However, marriage, particularly as shaped by patriarchy, rarely provides that space. Instead of nurturing emotional connection, it often serves to uphold entrenched norms, rituals, and hierarchies. What should be a personal choice gradually morphs into a social obligation. She further asserts, “It is not the individuals responsible for the failure of marriage: it is the institution,” signalling a crucial shift. The issue, she contends, lies not with flawed individuals but with a flawed system that prioritises one gender over another. The fundamental problem resides in the structure itself, which operates on unequal power dynamics, fixed roles, and expectations that leave little room for freedom or equality, paving the way for suppression. The Tension of Repression and Desire We learn that Mrs. Mallard is “young, with a fair, calm face whose lines bespoke repression and even a certain strength.” Repression and strength! With what force does this repression of the desire to be free—“body and soul”—explode within this woman of “strength”! We witness the tension building within her as something creeps out of the sky, preparing to overtake her with force. It moves through “the sounds, the scents, the colour that filled the air,” creating a tumult within her. She struggles to identify what this “something” is, attempting to resist it in vain. Ultimately, she becomes entirely possessed. The sensuous and sensational nature of this experience renders it as erotic as it is spiritual. We sense that the “repression” previously detected within her is also sexual. That “something” which has overtaken her is her own natural desire to be free—“body and soul free.” Throughout the entire description of her tumultuous state, the emphasis on the connection between body and soul is significant. But why does this force arise externally and then overtake her? Why doesn’t it emerge from within her? The symbolism here suggests that the force originates from nature and the sky. Chopin seeks to establish a connection between the force of natural desire and the essence of nature itself. The woman being overtaken is, in fact, reclaiming her nature, which has been forcefully repressed for far too long and now demands its rightful territory back. It does so like an act of nature and is extraordinarily powerful, for the stronger the repression, the more forceful its consequences. During Mrs. Mallard’s tumultuous experience, we first observe a “suspension of intelligent thought,” leading to a “clear and exalted perception” that cannot occur without intelligent thought. This suspension transpires during a brief moment of conflict when her own nature, her sense of freedom, overwhelms her. This is because “nature” brooks no intelligent thought, and no intelligent thought could eliminate it. “The clear and exalted perception” emerges when nature is allowed its course and is now unrestricted. The point Chopin seems to be making is that a social structure should not negate or deny nature but rather align with it. The exalted thought challenges the very notion of marriage as it exists today. It dismisses the idea that the joy enthralling her is “monstrous,” monstrous because such joy, such a notion of freedom, is perceived as unnatural or unacceptable. This brings us back to Elizabeth Fox-Genovese, whose introduction began this exploration. Fox-Genovese perceives Chopin as a social critic. In many of her stories, Chopin does not focus on individual relationships or gender-centric views. Instead, she examines the deeper conflict between human nature and the rigid institutions that seek to control it. There is no specific antagonist present; rather, we witness nature pitted against institution. Once Mrs. Mallard finds herself exalted, uplifted, and overwhelmed with joy, she undergoes a rebirth, transforming into “Louise,” and is no longer merely Mrs. Mallard. Her metamorphosis imparts new symbolic significance to nature’s springtime rebirth in the story, with the tops of its trees “aquiver” with new spring life. Chopin was deeply interested in the human connection with the surrounding world, particularly the bond women share with nature. In The Story of an Hour , she presents nature as a potent and living force, intricately linked to a woman’s inner life and the suppression that life endures. Louise’s awakening illustrates how this connection allows her to momentarily experience freedom and selfhood. Simultaneously, Chopin critiques how patriarchy, as an institution, suppresses not only female identity but also the natural forces of growth, change, and renewal. Through this lens, Chopin quietly yet powerfully critiques the systems that deny both women and nature their right to exist freely. Bibliography Chopin, Kate. "The Story of an Hour." Vogue , 6 Dec. 1894. Literature in Context , The University of Virginia, https://anthology.lib.virginia.edu/work/Chopin/chopin-hour . PBS. "Interviews: Kate Chopin and Feminism." PBS , www.pbs.org/katechopin/interviews.html . Williams, Christina R. "Reading Beyond Feminism: Kate Chopin's The Awakening and the New Woman." Scholar Commons , University of South Carolina, 2008, scholarcommons.sc.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1092&context=tor . Accessed 24 Nov. 2024. Beauvoir, Simone de. The Second Sex . Translated by H. M. Parshley, Vintage Books, 1989.




