From Karina Oliva

So much to consider with this week’s readings. Sociology, the power and importance of oral culture, the use of oral histories, counter narratives-methods, forms, ways and stories that speak to us as a people, and to our sense of humanity. I won’t address what I see will be a theme throughout the readings (beginning with Silas Marner, at least for me) which is the role of the immigrant, and the experience(s) of exile.

I don’t care if I sound the sentimentalist, but I am deeply moved by our readings. I had no idea that I would enjoy this literary period and topic so much.

“A town, such as London, where a man may wander for hours together without reaching the beginning of the end, without meeting the slightest hint which could lead to the inference that there is open country within reach, is a strange thing” (Engels, 37) immediately brought to mind Carlos Fuentes’ soaring, awe inspiring yet frightening description of Mexico City in the mid 1900s. It seems appropriate that Engel’s should conjure for me this incredible vision of chaos, this “colossal centralization,” hub or nexus that collects and packs human beings as another brick in the wall. I had already noted the description of the city by Elizabeth Glaskell. “The matter being decided the party proceeded home, through many half-finished streets, all so like one another, that you might have easily been bewildered and lost your way” (13) reminded me of the “barrio” and so, I had annotated my book as such. Of course, if we place this week’s readings in relation to one another, an observation that emerged for me is that Glaskell writes as an outsider. After all, those who live in the slums, the barrios, the hoods, are not confused by what becomes their daily mappings, their commutes and traversals in the sections of the cities which they occupy.

And yet, through these oral histories, I will assume that Glaskell and Engels have transversed the barriers of class within their own consciousnesses and for that reason have found it so compelling to record, to document, to voice, the lives of the majority of the people at that time. As the introduction to Mary Barton suggests, Glaskell is driven by empathy at having lost a child. Both she and Engels speak to the experience, (the horrific knowing left for the living) of bearing witness to death through starvation. I believe we can consider Glaskell “the bourgeoisie” that dared to “speak the truth in these cases” highlighting the injustice perpetuated by the rich (Engels 38), a great example being Mr. and Mrs. Hunter whose greed and pleasure driven lifestyle directly affects John Barton, his son, and home (Glaskell 24).

Lastly, I am deeply moved by Engels as a historian who is commenting on the injustices of poverty, inequality and inequity drawing the connections between socioeconomics and environmental injustice. How current and relevant this all is. I am also enjoying Glaskell’s tone and style. The incorporation of songs and verses as well as attempt to capture common speech reminded me of slave narratives. Such lines as “I’d rather see her earning her bread by the sweat of brow….though she never butter her bread, than be like a do-nothing lady, worrying shopmen all morning, and screeching at her pianny all afternoon, and going to bed without having done a good turn to any one of God’s creatures but herself” (10) is so deeply complex and critical (gendered and class division of labor, question of ethics, etc) and yet, funny. Thank you for the laughter for there is humor everywhere. It is free, and thus, can be found in abundance even when people are suffering inequity, and poverty.