Chapter 3 moves from issues of class and community to issues of gender identity. Further analyzing tea histories, advertisements, and periodical articles, this chapter explores representations of gender and the role of tea in simultaneously bringing men and women together for a moment of shared intimacy and reinscribing gender distinctions in preparing and consuming the beverage.
Chapter 4 investigates the role of tea in three mid-Victorian novels: Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights (1847), Elizabeth Gaskell’s North and South (1854–55), and Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865). This chapter focuses on the concept of communitas and the ways in which the tea table creates expectations of community and connection. I argue that tea serves simultaneously as a universal symbol of Englishness and as a more specific marker of class status and moral values. Tea drinking works to unite characters within a novel, creating forms of community that range from friendships between characters of different economic classes to relationships between men and women within middle-class households. But at the same time, tea drinking highlights categories of difference, creating discernible hierarchies of respectability. In Wuthering Heights, the tea table creates idealized expectations of hospitality, building connections between host, family, and guest, and the novel explores the consequences of failing to fulfill those expectations of connection and intimacy. North and South, I argue, reveals how powerful those expectations of communitas can be, suggesting that the tea table helps to build bridges across class differences, based on the shared image of tea drinking. In Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, I explore the mad tea party chapter as an example of the anger and disjuncture that occur when those expectations not only are not fulfilled but are deliberately rejected.
Chapter 5 reveals the importance of women’s roles as tea makers and moral nourishers of the family in three novels: Charles Dickens’s David Copperfield (1849–50), George Eliot’s Middlemarch (1872), and Anthony Trollope’s Orley Farm (1861–62). David Copperfield, I argue, offers a dual depiction of the danger of and desire for sexuality in the woman behind the tea table; throughout the novel, David remains unable to reconcile a woman’s sexuality with her role as nourisher and nurturer of English families. My analysis of Middlemarch suggests that portraits of the Garths’ good, happy, family-oriented tea tables contrast sharply with the much less happy tea tables, such as Rosamond Vincy Lydgate’s, where family is not the priority. While both of these novels focus on the requirements of women at the tea table, Trollope’s Orley Farm turns its attention to the concept of sharing the responsibility of producing domesticity within the home. Reversing Sarah Ellis’s gendered binary of the duties of men and women inside and outside of the Victorian household, tea histories and Trollope’s novel suggest that domestic harmony depended on male interest and participation in the rituals of the tea table.
Chapter 6 introduces a different perspective on the repeated rituals of preparing and consuming tea. Certain novels suggest that, rather than providing useful narratives of identity, the rituals of the tea table carried expectations of continued participation in gendered roles within the home and within English culture, creating an increasing sense of imprisonment within the comfortable confines of domesticity. In Margaret Oliphant’s Hester (1883), I focus on the younger generation’s frustration with being trapped by ideal expectations created by older generations. In Henry James’s Portrait of a Lady (1881), I argue, the tea table serves as a symbol for a woman’s entrapment, and this entrapment is echoed by the symbolic restraining walls of both the convent and the private retreat of the Touchetts’ English home, Gardencourt. In Thomas Hardy’s Jude the Obscure (1894–95), Jude and Sue are caught between rejecting the expectations and fetters symbolized by tea and yearning for the comfort and familiarity engendered by those symbols.
The conclusion, “Tracing the Trajectory of Tea,” suggests broader implications of this study by following trends in tea drinking beyond the boundaries of historical period and literary discipline.
Acknowledgments
Many people have contributed to the development and completion of this book, and I owe thanks to them all. The advice and support of David Sanders, the director of Ohio University Press, has been instrumental in the growth of this project, allowing it to become the book it was meant to be. I am grateful for the rigorous comments of the two anonymous reviewers; their constructive criticism and their generous praise spurred me to add significant sections to this project and thus broaden its scope and deepen its impact.
For the graphic illustrations from Victorian tea advertisements, I owe my thanks to the Bodleian Library’s John Johnson Collection of Printed Ephemera, at Oxford University. The librarians in the John Johnson Reading Room were tireless in assisting my research; they pulled dozens of boxes of miscellaneous papers, packages, and advertisements for tea, and they painstakingly photocopied these images.
My thanks to the English department at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, which offered me the opportunity to pursue the studies that grew into this book. The UW-Madison library, and the librarians’ decision to invest in the Chadwyck-Healey Nineteenth-Century Collection, was significant in the development of this project; without the microfiche collection of nineteenth-century conduct manuals, cookery books, and tea histories, I wouldn’t have been able to begin my research. My advisor, Susan D. Bernstein, inspired me to pursue my interests in Victorian literature. Her encouragement and advice were crucial to this project and to my development as a scholar, and I owe her my gratitude. I also would like to thank the Ithaca College Scholars’ Working Group, a group of professors who helped me to maintain my inspiration and my commitment to this project.
I’m especially grateful to Garrett Piech for offering me his devoted support—emotional and financial—over the years. And I’m thankful for the sense of perspective granted to me by my daughters, Evelyn and Dorothy. In their own way, they offered me their understanding and their patience as I’ve worked to complete this project. Writing this book, with its demands of time and dedication and its intellectual and emotional rewards, became a “necessary luxury” for me.
introduction
Tea, a Necessary Luxury
Culture, Consumption, and Identity
ACCORDING TO A NINETEENTH-CENTURY HISTORY OF TEA, tea was such a fundamental part of everyday life that English tea drinkers often failed to notice its significance within their daily lives. G. G. Sigmond, in the opening pages of Tea: Its Effects, Medicinal and Moral, declares, “Man is so surrounded by objects calculated to arrest his attention, and to excite either his admiration or his curiosity, that he often overlooks the humble friend that ministers to his habitual comfort; and the familiarity he holds with it almost renders him incapable of appreciating its value.”1 By the early nineteenth century, tea had become a commodity of necessity, forming a crucial part of daily patterns of consumption and domesticity. The habitual comfort of tea, according to Sigmond’s tea treatise, does not draw attention; it is quiet and familiar and thus goes unnoticed. Tea is represented as dependable, a frequent part of everyday life that forms a comfortable, secure basis for the rest of life’s responses, decisions, and actions. As Sigmond declares, the English tea drinker is “incapable of appreciating [tea’s] value” (1). What the typical tea drinker fails to recognize, Sigmond suggests, is the crucial role that tea plays in forming the foundation of everyday life.
Despite Sigmond’s attempts to rectify the humble status of tea in nineteenth-century English culture, tea has remained a relatively unrecognized aspect of Victorian life. Just as Sigmond implies that the beverage’s mundane role precludes the tea drinker from appreciating its importance, the continued significance of tea in twentieth-century British society seems to have prevented scholars