The Diary of Elizabeth Drinker: The Life Cycle of an Eighteenth-Century Woman (Abridged Version)

admin — Mon, 05 Jul 2010 08:01:00 +0000

The preface to this newly issued, abridged version of Elizabeth Drinker's diary, published originally in three volumes in 1991, reveals the sort of personal relationship the editor has formed with her subject over the past decades, an intimacy that forms often in historical scholarship, especially in single-author studies and even more so when the genre of focus is so inherently intimate, as the diary form certainly is. In this case, the diary is a record of fifty years in the life of an eighteenth-century Quaker Philadelphian.

The abridgement focuses on four phases of Drinker’s life: her youth and courtship (1758-61), which coincides with the Seven Years’ War (often referred to as the French and Indian War); her experience as a young wife and mother in the years leading up to the Revolution; her years of “crisis,” as Crane describes them, from 1776-93; and her final years as “Grandmother and Grand Mother” leading to her death in 1807.

Unlike narrative history or biography, the diary offers the reader a limited and often cryptic view of this woman’s experience. Few of the entries are longer than a typical Facebook update, and in many respects, they are of a similar quality: a quick memorandum selecting the day’s highlight (or, just as often, lowlight). Yet there is an enormous amount to be gleaned from the diary about the gender roles that dictated much of a woman’s experience, as defined also by class and profession of faith.

Seen as a kind of pointillism rather than as a realist painting, the work provides extraordinary access to life in the Philadelphia area, especially during the Revolution: to the experience of being Quaker during a time of war and social upheaval, of being a slave-owner who all too belatedly experiences a crisis of conscience (after she had already irretrievably sold the person whom she “possessed” via inheritance), to the grim facts of life and mortality in eighteenth-century motherhood, and to the tedium and suffering that provided the texture of most of her days.

The fact that this is the third form in which the diary has been published (a longer condensed version was published in 1994) provides evidence of its usefulness to historians, citing the diary in a wide variety of contexts. For example, it is an essential tool for those working on the history of American religion. The phrase “went to meeting” is probably the most often repeated in the diary, and readers get a sense of how prominent a role her participation in the Society of Friends played in her life. Concurrently, readers get a shocking sense of the thuggishness of the colonial revolutionaries, who exiled her husband for his refusal to enlist and support the war and who perpetrated all manner of cruelties on Drinker, her family, her neighbors, and her fellow Quakers. The conduct of the British occupiers was not much better. The City of Brotherly Love—Quaker City—treated members of the Society of Friends as if they were all treasonous, and many lost life, liberty, and property as a result.

Those interested in medical history will also find this work a treasure trove, albeit a gruesome one. There are accounts of yellow fever, of the mysterious illnesses that struck down child after child, of blood-letting and experiments with inoculation, and of Drinker’s persistent ill health that, because she was financially secure, gave her access to the “best” health care available, a decidedly dubious benefit.

One narrative thread resonates with a particularly visceral force: her record of dental problems. Toothache is a lifelong preoccupation, and each extraction or loss is recorded, as well as accounts of medical remediation. For example, we learn about attempts to “restore” extracted teeth to their original position in hopes that they will re-root themselves! The theme extends to her children—cutting the first tooth somehow symbolizes a child’s survival—and it’s a source of particular grief when one of her sons dies almost immediately after cutting his first tooth. At this level of human experience, along with all the meetings, all the teas with friends, all the gut-wrenchingly terse accounts of illness and death, the diary takes us deeply into a woman’s life and fleshes out a period too often obscured in patriotic and patriarchal myth-making.

Written by: Rick Taylor, July 5th 2010

The Ursula Franklin Reader: Pacifism as a Map

admin — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 08:40:00 +0000

By Ursula M. Franklin, Michelle Swenarchuk

Between The Lines

Within the world of Ursula Franklin’s essays, idealism is not naïve, but an appropriate manifestation of consistent ethics. While deeply optimistic about the possibilities for social change, the writings of this Canadian scholar-scientist point out the dangers of settling for less than a total transformation of our social structures. She calls us not only to stand by our beliefs, but also to get more creative in how we live our beliefs.

In 1949, Franklin immigrated to Canada from Germany, where she had received her Ph.D. in experimental physics. From the beginning of her career, she was committed to the use of science for peace, and as the first female professor of science at the University of Toronto, she acutely felt the need for gender equity.

Pacifism comprises the solid foundation of Franklin’s thinking. Her commitment to pacifism is rooted both in her religious beliefs—she is a Quaker—and the sure knowledge that the means used will shape the outcome. The book includes a thorough description of the religious basis for pacifism among members of the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers), which will be helpful to readers. The imperatives of pacifism do not apply only to the religious, but for all citizens concerned with true justice.

The essays in this volume, written over more than twenty-five years, outline pacifism as a stance that requires actively working to transform the causes of war. This entails not only refusing to take up arms, but also—and more profoundly—transforming the view of the world that allows some to be called “enemies.” The result is a call for creative, prophetic rethinking of social structures and policies. Prescriptive solutions are not offered, perhaps due to Franklin’s strong belief in local solutions that grow out of genuine community and solidarity.

In her writing, Franklin stresses the importance of examining the means used to achieve social change—or any objective. Hierarchical, imperial approaches will not result in equality, nor can violence lead to nonviolent societies. Her focus on process becomes countercultural when addressing the “us versus them” mentality that dominates not only our governments, but also our cultures, where the global marketplace overwhelms local economies.

Franklin defines peace as the presence of justice and the absence of fear. Significantly, the absence of fear is not limited to fear of attack by an external “enemy,” but includes the fear of economic insecurity that comes from lack of access to food, shelter, and dignified work. She highlights the “interdependence of security”—in other words, there cannot be security for one nation without security for all, and there cannot be peace for one nation without peace for all. As she writes, “Life is not a football match; problems are not resolved by winning.”

As a scholar, Franklin has written extensively on the social challenges of technology. Part of her deep concern for technology lies in the cultural shift away from positive technologies (such as the ways of artisans) and toward mechanistic technologies that take power away from ordinary people. Like philosopher Jacques Ellul and activist Vandana Shiva, she asks that we consider how a given technology affects the common good and the pursuit of justice.

This challenging and inspiring collection of essays offers an invitation to be creative participants in our local and global communities, working for the common good while insisting that our governments do likewise.

Written by: Lisa Rand, August 14th 2009

quakers

The Diary of Elizabeth Drinker: The Life Cycle of an Eighteenth-Century Woman (Abridged Version)

The Ursula Franklin Reader: Pacifism as a Map