The Merry-Thought | Page 3

the next night.
This cynical approach to love and women dominates The Merry-Thought. Part three, for instance, contains a poem that reads like a parody of Belinda awaking in the first canto of Pope's Rape of the Lock. The author, identified as W. Overb - - ry, presents a realistic morning scene without either the charms and beauties that surround Pope's Belinda or the viciousness and focus of Swift's similar pictures (see pt. 3, p. 26).
Prevailingly, women are depicted as sexually insatiable, as in a piece written by a man who takes a month's vacation from sex to recoup his strength (pt. 2, p. 12). And the related image of the female with a sexual organ capable of absorbing a man plays a variation on the vagina dentata theme (e.g., pt. 2, pp. 19, 24). A drawing of a man hanging himself for love raises a considerable debate on whether such a thing can indeed occur (pt. 2, pp. 17-18). In a more realistic vein, though equally cynical, is the poem on the woman who complained of her husband making her pregnant so often:
A poor Woman was ill in a dangerous Case, She lay in, and was just as some other Folks was: By the Lord, cries She then, if my Husband e'er come, Once again with his Will for to tickle my Bum, I'll storm, and I'll swear, and I'll run staring wild; And yet the next Night, the Man got her with Child. S. M. 1708. (Pt. 2, pp. 10-11)
S. M. is clearly unsympathetic to the plight of married women in an age with only the most primitive forms of birth control.[4] The picture of her as a long-suffering person is undercut by the casual male assumption that giving birth was not really dangerous and that women make too much of the pain and difficulty. That women were often forced to go through thirteen or fourteen deliveries when little thought had yet been given to creating an antiseptic environment for childbirth is apparently of little concern to S. M., who finds in the apparent willingness of the woman to have sexual intercourse one more time sufficient reason for contempt.
[Footnote 4: For an account of the horrors associated with childbirth, see Lawrence Stone, The Family, Sex, and Marriage in England, 1500-1800 (New York: Harper and Row, 1977), 79-80.]
In addition to giving glimpses into social attitudes, The Merry-Thought has a variety of inscriptions that show the way these writings functioned. Professor George Guffey, in his introduction to the first part of this work (ARS 216 [1982], iii-iv), remarks upon the proposal scene carried on in Moll Flanders between Moll and the admirer who will prove her third husband and her brother. Such scenes involving witty proposals and responses cut into the windows of taverns were real enough at the time. The exchange in part two of The Merry-Thought is not, however, half so satisfactory. The woman takes umbrage at her admirer's suggestions that the glass on which he writes is "the Emblem" of her mind in being "brittle, slipp'ry, [and] pois'nous," and writes in retort:
I must confess, kind Sir, that though this Glass, Can't prove me brittle, it proves you an Ass. (Pt. 2, p. 27)
Though an easy cynicism about women's availability and about the body's insistently animal functions predominates, there is enough variety in The Merry-Thought to provide something of a picture of eighteenth-century society were any future anthropologist to come upon this volume as the sole remnant of that period. He would see a society engaged rather more in animal functions than in intellectual pursuits--a society rather more concerned with drinking, love, and defecation than the picture presented by the polite and intellectual literature of the time allowed. But he would also find in the satirical squibs on Corny, the Cambridge bookseller and printer, evidence of learning and university life (pt. 2, pp. 4-6) as well as a criticism of opera (pt. 2, pp. 14-16). He would see numerous young men longing for their mistresses to soften their hearts toward them, and cynical older men who had lost their illusions about love. But he could also come upon a straight piece of philosophy taken from the still fashionable Flask tavern in Hampstead (pt. 2, p. 24) or lowly bits of pious folk wisdom (pt. 2, p. 10). More often, however, he would uncover a society in which there was little of the generalized style that characterizes even the most personal formal poetry of the period. Many of the writers identify themselves and the names of the women they love or detest. In short, if these volumes do little else, they do provide a vivid glimpse into the personal life of the time, and to that extent an injection of some of these inscriptions into the anthologies of the period