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The Victorian House: Domestic Life from Childbirth to Deathbed
The bestselling social history of Victorian domestic life, told through the letters, diaries, journals and novels of 19th-century men and women.
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The Victorian age is both recent and unimaginably distant. In the most prosperous and technologically advanced nation in the world, people carried slops up and down stairs; buried meat in fresh earth to prevent mould forming; wrung sheets out in boiling water with their bare hands. This drudgery was routinely performed by the parents of people still living, but the knowledge of it has passed as if it had never been. Running water, stoves, flush lavatories – even lavatory paper – arrived slowly throughout the century, and most were luxuries available only to the prosperous.
Judith Flanders, author of the widely acclaimed ‘A Circle of Sisters’, has written an incisive and irresistible portrait of Victorian domestic life. The book itself is laid out like a house, following the story of daily life from room to room: from childbirth in the master bedroom, through the scullery, kitchen and dining room – cleaning, dining, entertaining – on upwards, ending in the sickroom and death.
Through a collage of diaries, letters, advice books, magazines and paintings, Flanders shows how social history is built up out of tiny domestic details. Through these we can understand the desires, motivations and thoughts of the age.
Many people today live in Victorian terraces, and so the houses themselves are familiar, but the lives are not. ‘The Victorian House’ will change all that.
589 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2003
134 people are currently reading
9584 people want to read
About the author
Judith Flanders
18 books551 followersJudith Flanders was born in London, England, in 1959. She moved to Montreal, Canada, when she was two, and spent her childhood there, apart from a year in Israel in 1972, where she signally failed to master Hebrew.
After university, Judith returned to London and began working as an editor for various publishing houses. After this 17-year misstep, she began to write and in 2001 her first book, A Circle of Sisters, the biography of four Victorian sisters, was published to great acclaim, and nominated for the Guardian First Book Award. In 2003, The Victorian House (2004 in the USA, as Inside the Victorian Home) received widespread praise, and was shortlisted for the British Book Awards History Book of the Year. In 2006 Consuming Passions, was published. Her most recent book, The Invention of Murder, was published in 2011.
Judith also contributes articles, features and reviews for a number of newspapers and magazines.
After university, Judith returned to London and began working as an editor for various publishing houses. After this 17-year misstep, she began to write and in 2001 her first book, A Circle of Sisters, the biography of four Victorian sisters, was published to great acclaim, and nominated for the Guardian First Book Award. In 2003, The Victorian House (2004 in the USA, as Inside the Victorian Home) received widespread praise, and was shortlisted for the British Book Awards History Book of the Year. In 2006 Consuming Passions, was published. Her most recent book, The Invention of Murder, was published in 2011.
Judith also contributes articles, features and reviews for a number of newspapers and magazines.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 318 reviews
April 25, 2007
This book taught me that Oh My GOD, I was SO born in the right century. I picked this book up in the gift shop of the Fricke Museum in NYC last summer and couldn't put it down. It is fascinating how women back in the day coped with all that house-cleaning. No wonder so many of them claimed to be "delicate." I would, too, if washing a load of laundry took two back-breaking days! Heck, I AM too delicate for that kind of work.
But more than just informing the reader of the daily chores, this book goes into detail about furnishings, and how they reflected one's social status; illness and how it was dealt with; how children were raised; death and dying, etc. really well-researched and wonderful. You can read the book from beginning to end, or randomly pick a chapter and go from there. Fascinating.
But more than just informing the reader of the daily chores, this book goes into detail about furnishings, and how they reflected one's social status; illness and how it was dealt with; how children were raised; death and dying, etc. really well-researched and wonderful. You can read the book from beginning to end, or randomly pick a chapter and go from there. Fascinating.
February 10, 2018
If you’re in the mood to spend a little time in the bedrooms ... and drawing rooms, and washrooms, and kitchens ... of (mostly) middle class Victorians, this book will satisfy every curiosity, right down to the smalls. Your smalls, by the way, would have been white if you were a real lady, because only women of loose morals would have worn colourful underclothes. This is the sort of delightful trivia you will find in this very engaging book — a cultural dalliance within a very rustic era. Despite the charm inherent in having a little visit with Dickens and Eliot, with Emily and Charlotte, with Browning and Tennyson, there is no charm at all in suffering from chilblains in cold and drafty houses. Like Lou Rawls, you would have to get fully dressed before going to bed, if you didn't want to suffer frostbite in the night.
Flanders is enchanting as a tour guide, revealing all the minutiae one longs to know ... about table manners, and kitchen practices; about food preparation and laundry days; about social functions and bodily functions ... it’s all covered, within the whole range of the alphabet. What makes this particularly appealing to me is that examples are pulled from the books and lives of writers, so it’s great fun to revisit many of one’s favourite fictional characters, and to study them under the microscope of socio-cultural history; or to meet Henry James at his own table, for instance, or writing desk, and to peek in on his life as he goes about this business of writing. A number of very interesting Victorians are presented, along with their interesting neuroses and illnesses. Both Charles Darwin and Florence Nightingale emerge as very unusual case studies, in situ.
While Flanders’ story flows like the proverbial cultural river, it is also respectably hefty with footnotes and bibliography, providing solid basis for her pronouncements, as well as fodder for further reading.
This is one to own, and dip into at leisure, if you’re at all fond of, or intrigued by, the Victorians.
Flanders is enchanting as a tour guide, revealing all the minutiae one longs to know ... about table manners, and kitchen practices; about food preparation and laundry days; about social functions and bodily functions ... it’s all covered, within the whole range of the alphabet. What makes this particularly appealing to me is that examples are pulled from the books and lives of writers, so it’s great fun to revisit many of one’s favourite fictional characters, and to study them under the microscope of socio-cultural history; or to meet Henry James at his own table, for instance, or writing desk, and to peek in on his life as he goes about this business of writing. A number of very interesting Victorians are presented, along with their interesting neuroses and illnesses. Both Charles Darwin and Florence Nightingale emerge as very unusual case studies, in situ.
While Flanders’ story flows like the proverbial cultural river, it is also respectably hefty with footnotes and bibliography, providing solid basis for her pronouncements, as well as fodder for further reading.
This is one to own, and dip into at leisure, if you’re at all fond of, or intrigued by, the Victorians.
April 29, 2018
I wanted to love this book. I wanted it to be useful and a wonderful reference for writing about the Victorian era. Don't get me wrong, it is certainly full of extremely useful information but that information is impossible to access it is so badly organized. Most of the time I just find it unbelievably frustrating.
For one thing, there is no glossary so the reader is left to intuit the difference, for example, between a parlor and a drawing room. The index, while present, is not at all extensive. You might read, for example, that something called a "copper" exists in the scullery but should you wish for a sentence somewhere in the book explaining what a copper is the index will not help you (despite the fact that there happens to be a sketch of said copper later on in the book). This means that if you wish to know something, or find something, you must skim through the entire book in the hopes that it pops out at you.
In addition, the author jumps around temporally so the reader is never certain what part of the Victorian era the information address as the author only occasionally includes dates.
In the end I am left assuming several things. This is not meant as a reference book. It is more the adaptation of a PhD thesis on the house as a reflection of Victorian domestic life. Why else, for example, does the "Parlor" chapter address childbirth, and the "Drawing Room" chapter address marriage? As opposed to, oh I don't know, a description of the contents, arrangements, and objects in a typical drawing room or parlor of 1860. Or the difference between the two? It's all very well and interesting to learn about weddings and childbirth, but perhaps the chapters should have been titled accordingly. It would make for a very different sort of book.
For one thing, there is no glossary so the reader is left to intuit the difference, for example, between a parlor and a drawing room. The index, while present, is not at all extensive. You might read, for example, that something called a "copper" exists in the scullery but should you wish for a sentence somewhere in the book explaining what a copper is the index will not help you (despite the fact that there happens to be a sketch of said copper later on in the book). This means that if you wish to know something, or find something, you must skim through the entire book in the hopes that it pops out at you.
In addition, the author jumps around temporally so the reader is never certain what part of the Victorian era the information address as the author only occasionally includes dates.
In the end I am left assuming several things. This is not meant as a reference book. It is more the adaptation of a PhD thesis on the house as a reflection of Victorian domestic life. Why else, for example, does the "Parlor" chapter address childbirth, and the "Drawing Room" chapter address marriage? As opposed to, oh I don't know, a description of the contents, arrangements, and objects in a typical drawing room or parlor of 1860. Or the difference between the two? It's all very well and interesting to learn about weddings and childbirth, but perhaps the chapters should have been titled accordingly. It would make for a very different sort of book.
November 26, 2017
A really interesting book, brilliantly written and thoroughly engaging. I learnt so much from this - my only criticism would be that it focuses very much on the urban middle class house, rather than the wide variety of Victorian homes.
February 8, 2018
This is an engaging and informative survey of daily and home life for the middle classes in Victorian England. It is organized by rooms of the house, but the author uses each room as a segue to discuss various aspects of Victorian life: the nursery leads us to childrearing and the education of girls; the scullery, to the lives and expectations of servants; the morning room, to the etiquette of paying calls. The author pulls from diaries, letters, memoirs, official records and even novels to paint a detailed portrait of life at the time: from the physical details of lighting and plumbing and the many, many household items, to family and social life and expectations.
It is a fascinating portrait, and left me glad not to live in Victorian England, for all kinds of reasons. Industrialization made London so dirty that merely walking outside could leave soot in your clothes and hair, while arsenic was included in dyes used in clothing and wallpaper. Constant housework was required of anyone without several servants: not only because of the dirt, not only because of the many household implements and fabrics that all required special and often time-consuming care, not only because a growing understanding of germ theory linked cleanliness strongly to morality and social worth, but because society piled even more expectations onto that in order to keep women busy. Doorsteps were supposed to be whitened every morning, for instance, though this did nothing for cleanliness. Meanwhile women wore close to 40 pounds of often voluminous clothing (today’s clothing weighs 2 pounds or less); between that and the housework and expectations of always serving others, some appear to have become invalids less because they were really sick and more to get a rest and have time to themselves. (With that in mind, it’s no surprise that Florence Nightengale, among the most productive women of the period, was an invalid.) The power structure, in which husbands ruled their wives and wives ruled their servants through the husband’s borrowed authority, was considered divinely ordained, and wives were expected to keep from their husbands all details of running the household, even so far as the news that their baby was sick.
But there’s a lot more than gloom to provide food for thought. The Victorians ate an enormous variety of meats, many of which have disappeared from modern menus. Waste was virtually unknown; household items were repurposed or sold to, for instance, visiting rag-and-bones men, until all that remained to be simply carted away was ashes from the fires. Mail was extraordinarily quick: when a husband in a Victorian novel sends his wife a note from the office telling her when to expect him for dinner, it’s actually going through the post. And while many aspects of Victorian life seemed to revolve around showing off one’s means in carefully prescribed ways – “living up to one’s income” was considered a moral virtue, rather than, say, being generous with it – some aspects were much less extravagant than today. Weddings were simple affairs, and more importance seems to have been attached to sending pieces of wedding cake to connections and paying them calls in one’s wedding attire than to the ceremony itself. Meanwhile, for all the talk about the drabness of mourning clothes, I wonder if this socially prescribed ritual of grief wasn’t healthier than today’s discomfort with the subject of death.
There is a lot in this book, and as the author admits, it’s an overview. It barely touches on the upper or lower classes, it primarily focuses on London, and the focus on home life means it discusses women’s lives much more than men’s. Some topics, like Victorian medicine, are breezed through very quickly, while others, such as sex, aren’t touched at all (though marriage and childbearing are). The organization into rooms is sometimes stretching it: the drawing room and parlor are apparently synonyms, but get separate chapters to discuss different aspects of social life. For that reason, it may make a frustrating reference book. But as an engaging historical work and a window into another time, I found it to be excellent.
It is a fascinating portrait, and left me glad not to live in Victorian England, for all kinds of reasons. Industrialization made London so dirty that merely walking outside could leave soot in your clothes and hair, while arsenic was included in dyes used in clothing and wallpaper. Constant housework was required of anyone without several servants: not only because of the dirt, not only because of the many household implements and fabrics that all required special and often time-consuming care, not only because a growing understanding of germ theory linked cleanliness strongly to morality and social worth, but because society piled even more expectations onto that in order to keep women busy. Doorsteps were supposed to be whitened every morning, for instance, though this did nothing for cleanliness. Meanwhile women wore close to 40 pounds of often voluminous clothing (today’s clothing weighs 2 pounds or less); between that and the housework and expectations of always serving others, some appear to have become invalids less because they were really sick and more to get a rest and have time to themselves. (With that in mind, it’s no surprise that Florence Nightengale, among the most productive women of the period, was an invalid.) The power structure, in which husbands ruled their wives and wives ruled their servants through the husband’s borrowed authority, was considered divinely ordained, and wives were expected to keep from their husbands all details of running the household, even so far as the news that their baby was sick.
But there’s a lot more than gloom to provide food for thought. The Victorians ate an enormous variety of meats, many of which have disappeared from modern menus. Waste was virtually unknown; household items were repurposed or sold to, for instance, visiting rag-and-bones men, until all that remained to be simply carted away was ashes from the fires. Mail was extraordinarily quick: when a husband in a Victorian novel sends his wife a note from the office telling her when to expect him for dinner, it’s actually going through the post. And while many aspects of Victorian life seemed to revolve around showing off one’s means in carefully prescribed ways – “living up to one’s income” was considered a moral virtue, rather than, say, being generous with it – some aspects were much less extravagant than today. Weddings were simple affairs, and more importance seems to have been attached to sending pieces of wedding cake to connections and paying them calls in one’s wedding attire than to the ceremony itself. Meanwhile, for all the talk about the drabness of mourning clothes, I wonder if this socially prescribed ritual of grief wasn’t healthier than today’s discomfort with the subject of death.
There is a lot in this book, and as the author admits, it’s an overview. It barely touches on the upper or lower classes, it primarily focuses on London, and the focus on home life means it discusses women’s lives much more than men’s. Some topics, like Victorian medicine, are breezed through very quickly, while others, such as sex, aren’t touched at all (though marriage and childbearing are). The organization into rooms is sometimes stretching it: the drawing room and parlor are apparently synonyms, but get separate chapters to discuss different aspects of social life. For that reason, it may make a frustrating reference book. But as an engaging historical work and a window into another time, I found it to be excellent.
February 14, 2012
Ever wonder how the Victorians actually lived? This book uses the house plan as a method to show how life was lived in each room. Fascinating so far, and I've only gotten about 25 pages in!
***************************************
I cannot overemphasize what an enjoyable book this was to read. The author has taken books that were written by the great writers of the Victorian era (Charles Dickens, Beatrix Potter, Charles Darwin, John Ruskin), diaries and letters that they wrote, advertisements from local newspapers, and even "self-help books" of the time to give the reader a more accurate view of life in the days of Victorian England. The book is organized around each room in the house of an average middle-class Victorian family.
The dining room -- Did you know why an entre is called an "entre"? Because the dish was already on the table when you entered (entre) the dining room to eat. Did you know why side dishes are called "side dishes"? Because they were placed on dishes at the sides or corners of the table when the table was laid out.
The morning room -- Did you know that the average weight of the clothes worn by a Victorian woman was 37 lbs? They did not go out in the rain if they could avoid it, because when their clothes got wet, they weighed even more! Remember, an umbrella would not really protect your skirt, and waterproof clothing had not been developed. A list of clothing worn by a woman included:
1. thick, long legged, long sleeved woolen combinations
2. over them, white cotton combinations, with plenty of buttons and frills
3. very serious, bony, grey stays, with suspenders
4. black woollen stockings
5. white cotton drawers, with buttons and frills
6. white cotton "petticoat-bodice" with embroidery, buttons, and frills
7. rather short, white flannel, petticoat
8. long alpaca petticoat, with a flounce around the bottom
9. pink flannel blouse
10. high, starched, white collar, fastened on with studs
11. navy blue tie
12. blue skirt, touching the ground, and fastened tightly to the blouse with a safety-pin behind
13. leather belt, very tight
14. high button boots
The kitchen and the scullery -- oh my. The smells, the unsanitary conditions, the BUGS! It fairly made my skin crawl to read this portion. Beatrix Potter wrote in her diary that when she visited her grandmother, her two servants slept in the kitchen, as was normal at the time. Both servants spent the night on the kitchen table because of the waves upon waves of roaches on the floor! The description of one all around maid working in the scullery washing the dishes from previous meals will stick in my mind forever. One one side, a haunch of beef hanging ready to be cut and used for cooking another meal. On the other side, an open urinal (chamberpot) waiting to be emptied.
The bedroom -- again, oh my. The bugs, vermin, and back breaking work necessary to keep this room clean. Mattresses were of course made of totally organic material and bugs / vermin / bed bugs feasted upon the stuffing within those mattresses. Beatrix Potter wrote about a trip where she stayed in a local hotel. There were bedbugs in the mattress on the bed, so she slept on top of the bed completely clothed and only after she had dusted the entire bed with an anti-bed bug powder remedy. She mentioned how difficult it was to sleep with this anti-bug powder all in her hair.
The sheer amount of back-breaking work that was carried out every day merely to clean, wash, cook, and dress is staggering. I have never been one to moon over the good old days, and I certainly won't now either! Thank the Lord for indoor plumbing, kleenex, washing machines, and our weekly trash pickup by the city!!!
***************************************
I cannot overemphasize what an enjoyable book this was to read. The author has taken books that were written by the great writers of the Victorian era (Charles Dickens, Beatrix Potter, Charles Darwin, John Ruskin), diaries and letters that they wrote, advertisements from local newspapers, and even "self-help books" of the time to give the reader a more accurate view of life in the days of Victorian England. The book is organized around each room in the house of an average middle-class Victorian family.
The dining room -- Did you know why an entre is called an "entre"? Because the dish was already on the table when you entered (entre) the dining room to eat. Did you know why side dishes are called "side dishes"? Because they were placed on dishes at the sides or corners of the table when the table was laid out.
The morning room -- Did you know that the average weight of the clothes worn by a Victorian woman was 37 lbs? They did not go out in the rain if they could avoid it, because when their clothes got wet, they weighed even more! Remember, an umbrella would not really protect your skirt, and waterproof clothing had not been developed. A list of clothing worn by a woman included:
1. thick, long legged, long sleeved woolen combinations
2. over them, white cotton combinations, with plenty of buttons and frills
3. very serious, bony, grey stays, with suspenders
4. black woollen stockings
5. white cotton drawers, with buttons and frills
6. white cotton "petticoat-bodice" with embroidery, buttons, and frills
7. rather short, white flannel, petticoat
8. long alpaca petticoat, with a flounce around the bottom
9. pink flannel blouse
10. high, starched, white collar, fastened on with studs
11. navy blue tie
12. blue skirt, touching the ground, and fastened tightly to the blouse with a safety-pin behind
13. leather belt, very tight
14. high button boots
The kitchen and the scullery -- oh my. The smells, the unsanitary conditions, the BUGS! It fairly made my skin crawl to read this portion. Beatrix Potter wrote in her diary that when she visited her grandmother, her two servants slept in the kitchen, as was normal at the time. Both servants spent the night on the kitchen table because of the waves upon waves of roaches on the floor! The description of one all around maid working in the scullery washing the dishes from previous meals will stick in my mind forever. One one side, a haunch of beef hanging ready to be cut and used for cooking another meal. On the other side, an open urinal (chamberpot) waiting to be emptied.
The bedroom -- again, oh my. The bugs, vermin, and back breaking work necessary to keep this room clean. Mattresses were of course made of totally organic material and bugs / vermin / bed bugs feasted upon the stuffing within those mattresses. Beatrix Potter wrote about a trip where she stayed in a local hotel. There were bedbugs in the mattress on the bed, so she slept on top of the bed completely clothed and only after she had dusted the entire bed with an anti-bed bug powder remedy. She mentioned how difficult it was to sleep with this anti-bug powder all in her hair.
The sheer amount of back-breaking work that was carried out every day merely to clean, wash, cook, and dress is staggering. I have never been one to moon over the good old days, and I certainly won't now either! Thank the Lord for indoor plumbing, kleenex, washing machines, and our weekly trash pickup by the city!!!
August 17, 2008
So this is a book basically designed and written specifically for me, if ever one was. It's a cultural history of middle-class Victorians, looking at what daily life was like for them by moving room by room through a typical house. Each chapter focuses on a different room, describing not only what was in the room but also the type of activities that happened in the room, sometimes with less than obvious links (of course the kitchen chapter looks at the types of food people ate, but for instance the parlor chapter looked at the type of hobbies that women had (aquariums!) and how they engaged in them). I've always been very interested in the Victorian people, due to my love of Victorian novels, and this type of book is full of the details and explanations that I love. Certainly it has all sorts of small details that surprise and delight or appall (excerpts from domestic manuals like Mrs. Beeton! common wallpapers and paintings! a typical woman wore more than 30 pounds of clothes a day! maternity corsets! yes, maternity corsets!), but it also went more deeply into how people lived and what their lives were like. If you've ever felt sorry for yourself because there's a lot of dishes in the sink or you have to mop the floor yourself because you decided not to have a cleaning lady because you're saving for a downpayment (I mean, hypothetically), reading the description of the daily life of a maid of all work in a Victorian middle class household will make you pretty much never feel sorry for yourself again. I mean, it's not like I hadn't gathered it was pretty bad from reading Dickens or by watching 1900 House (so awesome, by the way), but a matter-of-fact description of a day, hour by hour and task by task, is pretty overwhelming to read. It also makes me so happy that I didn't actually live during Victorian times, because even if you weren't a maid of all work, life was pretty unappealing for most women unless they were exceptional. There's a great discussion in the chapter on The Sickroom about how becoming an invalid was one of the only ways in which women could carve out time for themselves -- to rest or to get away from the pressures of constantly caring for very large families or to engage in their own pursuits (as, say, Florence Nightengale did). Overall, a very well-written, overstuffed and fascinating book.
April 2, 2011
What an interesting read -- I couldn't put it down. The Victorians brought the idea of home to the forefront in a new way. They separated their world into a public sphere (work) and a private sphere (domesticity). The Victorian home was a refuge from commercial life with morals, and guidelines to protect the soul. Rooms were no longer multiple-purposed as in the 18th century, each had a different function.
Flanders goes through the Victorian home room by room, discussing everything historically as to inventions and improvements made during the 19th century, as well as changes with spouses, children and everything they do or require. She breaks it into 10 rooms (bedroom, nursery, kitchen, scullery, drawing room, parlor, dining room, morning room, bathroom and the sickroom.) And ending with street activity.
I did not realize how filthy it was to live during that time. Hygiene was not just a matter of riding the house of dust. Three things were greatly important: extermination of "vermin" (bugs & rodents); protection from dirt of various kinds (London "Mud" made up of decaying animal and vegetable matter, horse droppings, and the inadequate sewage system); and the proper regulation of gas lighting (not in bedrooms--used candles). Mattresses (made of organic fiber) were infested with bed bugs which was cleaned every fortnight. Remember also that pregnant women were "confined" to and gave birth in their bed. At the Great Exhibition in 1851, the first flushable lavatory was exhibited. Prince Albert required that the new lavatories be installed near the exhibit, in which over 14% of the visitors (827,000 people) "experienced" for the first time this new product.
Building structures could not be four times as deep as it was wide (or it would be too dark.) The divisions of each floors are-- The basement: kitchen, scullery, servant sleeping quarters; The ground floor: dining room & morning room (the women's room). The first floor: drawing room. The second floor: master bedroom, dressing room (for the man). The half landing: bathroom (installed later). The top floor: children's room, nursery. In 1838 a new concept was embraced that children needed two rooms (a night nursery and a day nursery) due to health concerns (both they & women needed fresh air and light more than men.) Children's mortality rates were still high, although dropping from 18% in 1888 to 15% in 1908 due to disease transmission. The nursery provided a distance between children and their parents. But it also created a shift from a parent-centered world to a child-centured one. Children were trained to promote the family unit. In the early 19th century, furniture was made specifically for children as well as many other products such as the pram, or perambulators, instead of carrying a child in your arms.
Throughout the book are many references to various 19th novel characters. Great illustrations and photos. Great read!
Flanders goes through the Victorian home room by room, discussing everything historically as to inventions and improvements made during the 19th century, as well as changes with spouses, children and everything they do or require. She breaks it into 10 rooms (bedroom, nursery, kitchen, scullery, drawing room, parlor, dining room, morning room, bathroom and the sickroom.) And ending with street activity.
I did not realize how filthy it was to live during that time. Hygiene was not just a matter of riding the house of dust. Three things were greatly important: extermination of "vermin" (bugs & rodents); protection from dirt of various kinds (London "Mud" made up of decaying animal and vegetable matter, horse droppings, and the inadequate sewage system); and the proper regulation of gas lighting (not in bedrooms--used candles). Mattresses (made of organic fiber) were infested with bed bugs which was cleaned every fortnight. Remember also that pregnant women were "confined" to and gave birth in their bed. At the Great Exhibition in 1851, the first flushable lavatory was exhibited. Prince Albert required that the new lavatories be installed near the exhibit, in which over 14% of the visitors (827,000 people) "experienced" for the first time this new product.
Building structures could not be four times as deep as it was wide (or it would be too dark.) The divisions of each floors are-- The basement: kitchen, scullery, servant sleeping quarters; The ground floor: dining room & morning room (the women's room). The first floor: drawing room. The second floor: master bedroom, dressing room (for the man). The half landing: bathroom (installed later). The top floor: children's room, nursery. In 1838 a new concept was embraced that children needed two rooms (a night nursery and a day nursery) due to health concerns (both they & women needed fresh air and light more than men.) Children's mortality rates were still high, although dropping from 18% in 1888 to 15% in 1908 due to disease transmission. The nursery provided a distance between children and their parents. But it also created a shift from a parent-centered world to a child-centured one. Children were trained to promote the family unit. In the early 19th century, furniture was made specifically for children as well as many other products such as the pram, or perambulators, instead of carrying a child in your arms.
Throughout the book are many references to various 19th novel characters. Great illustrations and photos. Great read!
January 27, 2021
I thoroughly enjoyed this, an entertaining historical read packed full of the kinds of obscure facts that I loved.
Judith Flanders takes us on a tour of a middle-class Victorian house, using the the cycle of life and death to dictate the order - so from the nursery to the sick room. In a seriously impressive sweep, she covers the full Victorian period, and the changing usages of the various rooms, as well as the differences that income dictates. Dress, mourning, childbirth, marriage, etiquette are each encompassed in one of the rooms, and in some cases actually dominate the subject (mourning in the sick room, for instance, where I didn't actually learn much about sick rooms). My main criticism of the book is that it is very female-centric - but then so too was the Victorian home.
The author writes with a light touch but this book is packed full of research, and I have scribbled copious notes for my own research - there's an excellent few pages on the colours of dyes, for example, and how the more dangerous ones could be detected in clothing.
That makes me sound a bit nerdy, which I am. Okay, this isn't a general read for everyone, but if you are a bit nerdy and you like to store up little nuggets to fascinate other nerdy historians, then this is an excellent book.
Judith Flanders takes us on a tour of a middle-class Victorian house, using the the cycle of life and death to dictate the order - so from the nursery to the sick room. In a seriously impressive sweep, she covers the full Victorian period, and the changing usages of the various rooms, as well as the differences that income dictates. Dress, mourning, childbirth, marriage, etiquette are each encompassed in one of the rooms, and in some cases actually dominate the subject (mourning in the sick room, for instance, where I didn't actually learn much about sick rooms). My main criticism of the book is that it is very female-centric - but then so too was the Victorian home.
The author writes with a light touch but this book is packed full of research, and I have scribbled copious notes for my own research - there's an excellent few pages on the colours of dyes, for example, and how the more dangerous ones could be detected in clothing.
That makes me sound a bit nerdy, which I am. Okay, this isn't a general read for everyone, but if you are a bit nerdy and you like to store up little nuggets to fascinate other nerdy historians, then this is an excellent book.
May 31, 2013
I'll open with the fact that I'm not a very eloquent or thorough reviewer. That being said, this book takes one through each room of the middle/upper-middle class Victorian home and explains (in great detail) what each specific room is used for. Sound dry? Not one bit, as we also learn a great deal about the relationship between Victorian family members as well. I thoroughly enjoyed this read and the significant other read it also with much vigor (and his main reading material consists of particle and astrophysics).
I found this a much more..."novel-esque" (for lack of a better word) read then Vickery's "Behind Closed Doors: At Home in Georgian England" but then I've not quite finished the latter so that may change. All-in-all, I can recommend the Flanders book with no qualms. Excellent read.
I found this a much more..."novel-esque" (for lack of a better word) read then Vickery's "Behind Closed Doors: At Home in Georgian England" but then I've not quite finished the latter so that may change. All-in-all, I can recommend the Flanders book with no qualms. Excellent read.
June 30, 2010
This was extremely awesome in many ways, but I had a few problems with it too.
The awesome first: it is an incredibly readable book that zips along at a good pace, focused on the lives of *actual* middle-class Victorians rather than the fantasy middle-classes of a lot of popular Victorian novels & domestic manuals. The book uses the home as its organising structure, talking about the material reality of each room but also what the room represented to its inhabitants & delving into the aspects of life that occured in each location. Thus, for example, the nursery looks at both the material culture of Victorian childhood (white-washed walls and bars over the windows for safety, the development of prams) and the changing role that children played in the family over the century (from second-class citizens to the centre of domestic life). Flanders' prose is witty and engaging, and she quotes a decent range of primary sources throughout the text, including using 19th century advertisements and other visuals. This is a great book for someone who is interested in Victorian domesticity and doesn't know much about it.
Unfortunately, that person is not me! And so while I enjoyed the book immensely it wasn't as useful as I hoped it would be. A lot of information I could easily have found elsewhere (for instance, several PAGES detailing what kind of mourning was worn for what degree of connection for how long), and a lot of what I was most fascinated by was either skipped entirely or treated very loosely. Flanders entirely ignores sex, and pretty much ignores the male experience of home life except inasmuch as they dictated what the female experience was meant to be. This was frustrating, but clearly a case of me wanting a book that wasn't the book she wrote, which is a matter of taste.
I do have a few real criticisms, though:
1. The structure was interesting but not very coherent or consistent. She tangents wildly, and often seems a little carried away by her source material, so will start quoting something & get caught up with the issues it raises & fail to develop the argument she was originally trying to support. Not a real problem for a casual reader, I think, but it frustrated me because it felt like it undermined the scholarship.
2. Her bibliography is HUGE but her primary sources seemed a little lacking to me. This could be observer bias; I haven't gone through and examined it in any detail. But she quotes Trollope a ton, Dickens and Yonge a little, and a few other novelists a tiny amount -- which seems unbalanced. Where are all the other domestic novelists to give a portrait of idealised domestic life? The same thing with her choice of memoirs/diaries; she relies very heavily on a small handful of selections.
3. Her own biases come through so strongly in some of the chapters that it really unbalances her conclusions. For instance, it is clear that she thinks that making little decorative/ornamental objects is an enormous waste of time and energy, and so she makes fun of the fact that middle-class women embroidered slippers and decorated with shells and collected ferns. Okay, yes, I am sure many women did those things out of sheer tedium and hated every second of it, but I have also read some primary accounts of women *loving* these things, and I know that some women managed to carve out little experiences for themselves doing botany and stuff in spite of all the horribly constricting ideology. But Flanders finds it a silly waste of time, and so it is described as a silly waste of time, end of story. So to what extent do I trust the rest of her conclusions?
All of that being said, I really enjoyed reading this and learned a lot of fascinating trivia, so I recommend it with a few reservations.
The awesome first: it is an incredibly readable book that zips along at a good pace, focused on the lives of *actual* middle-class Victorians rather than the fantasy middle-classes of a lot of popular Victorian novels & domestic manuals. The book uses the home as its organising structure, talking about the material reality of each room but also what the room represented to its inhabitants & delving into the aspects of life that occured in each location. Thus, for example, the nursery looks at both the material culture of Victorian childhood (white-washed walls and bars over the windows for safety, the development of prams) and the changing role that children played in the family over the century (from second-class citizens to the centre of domestic life). Flanders' prose is witty and engaging, and she quotes a decent range of primary sources throughout the text, including using 19th century advertisements and other visuals. This is a great book for someone who is interested in Victorian domesticity and doesn't know much about it.
Unfortunately, that person is not me! And so while I enjoyed the book immensely it wasn't as useful as I hoped it would be. A lot of information I could easily have found elsewhere (for instance, several PAGES detailing what kind of mourning was worn for what degree of connection for how long), and a lot of what I was most fascinated by was either skipped entirely or treated very loosely. Flanders entirely ignores sex, and pretty much ignores the male experience of home life except inasmuch as they dictated what the female experience was meant to be. This was frustrating, but clearly a case of me wanting a book that wasn't the book she wrote, which is a matter of taste.
I do have a few real criticisms, though:
1. The structure was interesting but not very coherent or consistent. She tangents wildly, and often seems a little carried away by her source material, so will start quoting something & get caught up with the issues it raises & fail to develop the argument she was originally trying to support. Not a real problem for a casual reader, I think, but it frustrated me because it felt like it undermined the scholarship.
2. Her bibliography is HUGE but her primary sources seemed a little lacking to me. This could be observer bias; I haven't gone through and examined it in any detail. But she quotes Trollope a ton, Dickens and Yonge a little, and a few other novelists a tiny amount -- which seems unbalanced. Where are all the other domestic novelists to give a portrait of idealised domestic life? The same thing with her choice of memoirs/diaries; she relies very heavily on a small handful of selections.
3. Her own biases come through so strongly in some of the chapters that it really unbalances her conclusions. For instance, it is clear that she thinks that making little decorative/ornamental objects is an enormous waste of time and energy, and so she makes fun of the fact that middle-class women embroidered slippers and decorated with shells and collected ferns. Okay, yes, I am sure many women did those things out of sheer tedium and hated every second of it, but I have also read some primary accounts of women *loving* these things, and I know that some women managed to carve out little experiences for themselves doing botany and stuff in spite of all the horribly constricting ideology. But Flanders finds it a silly waste of time, and so it is described as a silly waste of time, end of story. So to what extent do I trust the rest of her conclusions?
All of that being said, I really enjoyed reading this and learned a lot of fascinating trivia, so I recommend it with a few reservations.
February 18, 2014
A masterful survey of the details of day to day life in Victorian England, with particular focus on London and the middle class. The author draws on medical texts, advertisements, diaries, letters, and even fiction to describe the quotidian drudgery, dirt, and mentality of that time and place. The past really does seem to be a different country--the assumptions (that wearing something because you liked it was strange and antisocial, that children needed bland food and few vegetables, that liking or even knowing one another before engagement was not expected or desired, that the classes were intrinsically physically and mentally different) are so alien that despite years of reading Victorian novels I still found myself goggling at the page. But at the same time, it's fascinating to divine the origins of many oddities of the modern era to their origins in Victorian England.
Flanders organizes this history through the different rooms of the home. After first describing the furniture and decorations of the parlor, for instance, she then goes on to talk about women's social role, and from thence to wedding trends. It flows naturally and easily, told in lucid language and sprinkled with contemporary quotes. Flanders exhibits a dry wit and an enjoyment of absurdity that makes her history and sociology all the easier to read. She ends with this:
Flanders organizes this history through the different rooms of the home. After first describing the furniture and decorations of the parlor, for instance, she then goes on to talk about women's social role, and from thence to wedding trends. It flows naturally and easily, told in lucid language and sprinkled with contemporary quotes. Flanders exhibits a dry wit and an enjoyment of absurdity that makes her history and sociology all the easier to read. She ends with this:
"It is too easy for us to think of the Victorian era--or any part of the past--as 'romantic.' For some it was an endless succession of cold, dirt, and dark, of black bombazine and narrow stairs. For others, though, it was fuchsine and peacock blue, as well as celadon skies.
To emphasize either viewpoint at the expense of the other is to give only a partial picture. We may be able to do no more than peer through the windows of the past--but at least we can choose to do so through windows that have the curtains open and the rooms inside brightly lit."
December 1, 2017
A book I have been wanting to read for quite a while, but hard to find in the US. I bought a copy at the Charles Dickens Museum while on vacation in London, and I'm happy I found it. I enjoyed reading about how an upper-middle-class house of the era was "correctly" furnished. The author explained attitudes on how each level of society had expectations of how to properly furnish a house depending on the job and salary of the husband. The book while aimed at the general public would only be of real interest for research, or if you liked that era of history. My favorite part of the book was how the author used fiction of the era as examples of the people living in said house, though there were a few books I had never heard of before. I hated that due to being a student it took me so long to finish it, I had to go back reread a few parts because of the author referencing back to something that I had forgotten about. Recommended for lovers of history and anyone wanting to know more about how people lived in the Victorian era.
Read for #NonfictionNovember2017 Home Category
Re-read 2017
Still one of my favorite micro-histories about the Victorian era. I enjoyed it more due to the fact that I didn't have to keep putting it down to do school work this time around.
Read for #NonfictionNovember2017 Home Category
Re-read 2017
Still one of my favorite micro-histories about the Victorian era. I enjoyed it more due to the fact that I didn't have to keep putting it down to do school work this time around.
December 25, 2007
This is a good comprehensive look at domestic affairs in Victorian England, organized by topic. The writing is lively and engaging, and the organization makes it easy for cross-referencing or a quick look at a piece of information. It does a good job at keeping a class-wide gaze, moving from what the poorest to the richest could expect from life. One of the things I like best about it is the overview of the domestic staff and how common they were; an invaluable resource for anyone interested in domestic Victoriana, or anyone planning to write a novel in that era.
July 25, 2017
That was excellent. It took me a while to complete because most of it was done in small chunks during the holidays whenever my extended family would leave me alone for a couple of minutes. It was very easy to read and very informative. I seem to recall that Judith Flanders's style was a bit more convoluted with a ton more details (and figures, which I always find unnecessary in non fiction books, telling me what those figures show is enough) but I'm happy to say I was wrong. One of the best I've read on the Victorian era.
October 1, 2020
This has been on my TBR for years, but what better time to read an extremely detailed, room-by-room examination of Victorian houses and culture than during a pandemic when staying home as much as possible? The title may sound dry and stuffy, but this is so very interesting and well-written.
Want to read
January 13, 2018Or How to Be a Victorian - either one. Susanna gives both of 'em five stars.
December 23, 2022
Well written and well researched, this book covers more than just the architecture of homes in the Victorian time period. It is a fascinating sociological study covering everything from changing fashions to foods, furniture, family interactions, medicine, approaches to cleaning, children, nursing and death.
A must read for anyone interested in learning more about any aspect of this era!
A must read for anyone interested in learning more about any aspect of this era!
Want to read
November 7, 2025de meeneemkast in de hal van het erasmushuis is echt een goudmijn deze week!! 🙏🏻 🙏🏻 🙏🏻
April 4, 2015
This is an excellent book that I unfortunately didn't have time to finish because two other people had requested it from the library and I didn't want to keep them waiting. I read about half of it. Chapters are arranged by rooms of the house, so I wanted to be sure to read the Bathroom chapter as I find the history of running water fascinating. It didn't disappoint, but I felt the author could have added a bit more on daily bathing habits. She did include some information about that, but certain parts of it seemed to perpetuate the myth that Victorians bathed as little as possible, whereas in other paragraphs, she clearly described people washing every day with pitcher and washcloth. But how often did they fully immerse themselves in a bath, even before indoor plumbing? I wish this chapter had been a bit longer.
Paradoxically, other chapters seem to delve too deeply into the habits of the residents of the homes. For example the chapter on the Parlor has extensive information on courting rituals, but surely the parlor was used for other activities? The chapter on the Bedroom has a great deal about childbirth and lying-in, and some interesting details on inner chambers used for writing and praying, that later were often made into dressing rooms, bathrooms, or closets, but very little on anything else that happens in the bedroom. The author states clearly and perhaps a bit prudishly that she won't go into any sexual details as there are plenty of other books about that, but surely a bit of information about Victorian husbands and wives and how they used the bedroom - did they sleep together or separately? did they dress in front of each other or retire to dressing rooms? - wouldn't have been amiss. How long did the average Victorian upper class person sleep? Did they get up at a specific hour even if they had a life of leisure? What time did they dress? I do think some of those details would have been more informative than many long paragraphs about childbirth.
Perhaps the book would have been more aptly titled "inside the upper class Victorian home" because, except for some details about servants, it does not describe the homes of the working classes, not even the lower middle class. The homes described in the book have fireplaces in almost every room (although curiously, the fires are never lit in the bedrooms, perhaps it was too much work and expense for all but the wealthiest homeowners). Another thing it lacks is information on the relationship between family members, although children are well-described, but specifically, the relationship between husband and wife seem nearly absent from this book.
Although I think this book could have been a lot better, it is still an excellent, well-researched book on a surprisingly scarce topic. Even just 20 years ago, the history of daily life was not considered a fitting subject for historians, who were supposed to study wars, politics, and the actions of kings and leaders, and not the "pots and pans of life" as my history professor called it. But recently, the history of everyday things has come into its own as a legitimate topic of research. This book is as good as any out there on the topic of home life of the Victorians.
Paradoxically, other chapters seem to delve too deeply into the habits of the residents of the homes. For example the chapter on the Parlor has extensive information on courting rituals, but surely the parlor was used for other activities? The chapter on the Bedroom has a great deal about childbirth and lying-in, and some interesting details on inner chambers used for writing and praying, that later were often made into dressing rooms, bathrooms, or closets, but very little on anything else that happens in the bedroom. The author states clearly and perhaps a bit prudishly that she won't go into any sexual details as there are plenty of other books about that, but surely a bit of information about Victorian husbands and wives and how they used the bedroom - did they sleep together or separately? did they dress in front of each other or retire to dressing rooms? - wouldn't have been amiss. How long did the average Victorian upper class person sleep? Did they get up at a specific hour even if they had a life of leisure? What time did they dress? I do think some of those details would have been more informative than many long paragraphs about childbirth.
Perhaps the book would have been more aptly titled "inside the upper class Victorian home" because, except for some details about servants, it does not describe the homes of the working classes, not even the lower middle class. The homes described in the book have fireplaces in almost every room (although curiously, the fires are never lit in the bedrooms, perhaps it was too much work and expense for all but the wealthiest homeowners). Another thing it lacks is information on the relationship between family members, although children are well-described, but specifically, the relationship between husband and wife seem nearly absent from this book.
Although I think this book could have been a lot better, it is still an excellent, well-researched book on a surprisingly scarce topic. Even just 20 years ago, the history of daily life was not considered a fitting subject for historians, who were supposed to study wars, politics, and the actions of kings and leaders, and not the "pots and pans of life" as my history professor called it. But recently, the history of everyday things has come into its own as a legitimate topic of research. This book is as good as any out there on the topic of home life of the Victorians.
April 24, 2016
This is a good companion for "How to Be a Victorian" by Ruth Goodman. The books could not be more different in concept. Flanders is more scholarly, and as a result a lot less fun to read than Goodman. Goodman also actually has replicated Victorian life (food, clothing, etc) and the results are a lot of fun and compelling. Goodman's readers get a more sensory experience, while Flanders writes with the emotional distance of an historian. From Goodman, one gets a sense of the many limitations most Victorians experienced, since, of course, most were not wealthy. While Flanders occasionally refers to life for this portion of the British population, she is essentially writing with a focus on the upper middle class, whose lifestyle is much harder to reconstruct from Goodman's book. And, of course, Goodman explores sexual mores, a subject Flanders explicitly indicates she avoids.
One gets from Flanders a depressing sense of the innumerable ways women were constrained by Victorian cultural norms. Her England is rigidly divided into male and female spheres. Women inhabited and controlled the home, family and social interactions. Men handled commerce, male friendships and the external world. As far as I could tell from the book, "ne'er the twain shall meet." I share Flanders distress and disapproval of this, though I do not recollect much of a sense from the book that women chafed under all these limitations, though she does clearly convey the discomfort of women in household service. That it is not expressed more broadly is surprising in that it is easily found in literature (Henry James, Trollope). Maybe I just missed it, somehow.
There is an enormous amount of data in this book, even with perhaps of it being drawn anecdotally from characters in fiction of the period. There are fascinating factoids about decor, plumbing, and social conventions, but also a fair amount of "TMI." A four-page chart on what to wear when after a death in the family was burdensome, and the detailed description of medical procedures was too grisly and horrifying to absorb.
Still, Flanders has done a meticulous job of describing a fascinating subject in British social history. It's not fully an engaging read, but I am glad I made the effort.
One gets from Flanders a depressing sense of the innumerable ways women were constrained by Victorian cultural norms. Her England is rigidly divided into male and female spheres. Women inhabited and controlled the home, family and social interactions. Men handled commerce, male friendships and the external world. As far as I could tell from the book, "ne'er the twain shall meet." I share Flanders distress and disapproval of this, though I do not recollect much of a sense from the book that women chafed under all these limitations, though she does clearly convey the discomfort of women in household service. That it is not expressed more broadly is surprising in that it is easily found in literature (Henry James, Trollope). Maybe I just missed it, somehow.
There is an enormous amount of data in this book, even with perhaps of it being drawn anecdotally from characters in fiction of the period. There are fascinating factoids about decor, plumbing, and social conventions, but also a fair amount of "TMI." A four-page chart on what to wear when after a death in the family was burdensome, and the detailed description of medical procedures was too grisly and horrifying to absorb.
Still, Flanders has done a meticulous job of describing a fascinating subject in British social history. It's not fully an engaging read, but I am glad I made the effort.
August 23, 2017
Non credo di essere una vera appassionata dell'epoca vittoriana (anzi, come sempre ho le idee molto confuse sulla storia) però è un'epoca normalmente associata a grandi scrittori quali Charles Dickens, William Thackeray, le sorelle Brontë, Thomas Hardy, Elizabeth Gaskell e Anthony Trollope, solo per citarne alcuni che conosco, più o meno bene.
Questo saggio ci accompagna attraverso ogni stanza della casa vittoriana e, parallelamente, attraverso ogni stadio della vita umana spiegandoci - anche grazie a numerosi aneddoti, estratti da romanzi, diari e lettere e utilizzando disegni e foto - come la donna vittoriana la viveva (più la donna che l'uomo, chiaramente, dato che la sfera privata era quella a cui la donna apparteneva).
http://robertabookshelf.blogspot.it/2...
Questo saggio ci accompagna attraverso ogni stanza della casa vittoriana e, parallelamente, attraverso ogni stadio della vita umana spiegandoci - anche grazie a numerosi aneddoti, estratti da romanzi, diari e lettere e utilizzando disegni e foto - come la donna vittoriana la viveva (più la donna che l'uomo, chiaramente, dato che la sfera privata era quella a cui la donna apparteneva).
http://robertabookshelf.blogspot.it/2...
February 15, 2009
Very interesting, though I thought it bogged down somewhere around the drawing room chapter, and the narrative device of structuring each chapter around one room of the house only sometimes worked--the parlor chapter didn't ever talk about the functions or furniture of a parlor (or explain how it was different from a drawing room, which I was most curious to learn), for instance.
I don't think I've read many books written or set during the Victorian Era, but I've read quite a few with characters that had grown up then--Ballet Shoes, for instance--and this gives me a lot more insight into why those characters thought and acted as they did.
I don't think I've read many books written or set during the Victorian Era, but I've read quite a few with characters that had grown up then--Ballet Shoes, for instance--and this gives me a lot more insight into why those characters thought and acted as they did.
January 8, 2010
This is going to sound very unlikely - but this is one of those history books that gives you the frisson of really good science fiction. Victorians were bizarre creatures, but not necessarily for the reasons you would assume. The life just 140 years ago was truly strange, both for the wealthy and the poor. This period is kind of like the gateway to modernity. The lives of Victorians were in some ways very similar to ours; in others, they were brutally barbaric.
A fast, exciting read. Too bad most people never give history books a shot and thus never realize how riveting they can be.
A fast, exciting read. Too bad most people never give history books a shot and thus never realize how riveting they can be.
May 14, 2013
This one far exceeded my hopes, wonderfully - I could barely put it down. I never realized Victorian times were so filthy, grimy, dark, and generally unpleasant. Victorian era movies and television shows tend to leave out the carpets of cockroaches that invaded homes each night, the constant battle against soot and smell, the adulterated food, the absolutely unending battle with laundry. So well written and obviously well researched; I loved the inclusion fiction from the time as source material.
August 9, 2010
This book is one that is very clear, full of illustrations and details about the Victorian home,and the lives of the middle classes that lived there. Quite different than what most would expect!
For a more detailed review, please go here:
http://www.epinions.com/content_16995...
For a more detailed review, please go here:
http://www.epinions.com/content_16995...
February 24, 2009
What a terrific find! I was tempted to give it four stars for the tangents, but the thorough research really deserves all five; the bibliography has given me several ideas for further reading.
January 1, 2020
Lively cultural and social history, drawn from a good solid range of literary and everyday sources - from godawful guides on etiquette and mourning dress to advertising, etc. The 'home' framework of it is also decent (and the reason I came to this in the first place). Good to see plenty of Dickens and Copperfield references (the very sight of the name 'Tommy Traddles' still warms my heart and wins a star here).
My god. Victorians. Exquisitely, impeccably wrong about everything - apart from Darwin and occasional flashes of train and literature. Ill? Let me make you a blister to counter it, then rub some purple ointment into it made from arsenic and dust. Bereaved? No talking about it, y'hear? Feeling amorous? Don't, you harlot - oh and by the way don't waste your time as he's marrying his cousin and died of cholera yesterday anyway. Doing some laundry? Boil this eight times, then soak it in vinegar. Then smear it with the jelly made from boiling up rhino horn and toast and soap, and boil it again. Then die of typhoid. Tummy ache? Easy: arsenic. Bored? Don't read if you're a woman - it makes you emotional. And close that window - the miasma is coming in, my nerves are playing up such that I think I'll sit on this couch for the next twelve years and Miss Guttapercha is coming over this afternoon for a fifteen minute social chat with me about her husband's new umbrella - though she wears a white ribbon around her straw WHICH MOTHER SAYS MEANS SHE IS A WHORE.
Fine work though. Very enjoyable.
My god. Victorians. Exquisitely, impeccably wrong about everything - apart from Darwin and occasional flashes of train and literature. Ill? Let me make you a blister to counter it, then rub some purple ointment into it made from arsenic and dust. Bereaved? No talking about it, y'hear? Feeling amorous? Don't, you harlot - oh and by the way don't waste your time as he's marrying his cousin and died of cholera yesterday anyway. Doing some laundry? Boil this eight times, then soak it in vinegar. Then smear it with the jelly made from boiling up rhino horn and toast and soap, and boil it again. Then die of typhoid. Tummy ache? Easy: arsenic. Bored? Don't read if you're a woman - it makes you emotional. And close that window - the miasma is coming in, my nerves are playing up such that I think I'll sit on this couch for the next twelve years and Miss Guttapercha is coming over this afternoon for a fifteen minute social chat with me about her husband's new umbrella - though she wears a white ribbon around her straw WHICH MOTHER SAYS MEANS SHE IS A WHORE.
Fine work though. Very enjoyable.
February 7, 2023
This thick book is full of information, and while that may sound dry, it manages to be fascinating! Using the rooms of the house, Judith Flanders runs through domestic life in a Victorian home. It is focused on the middle classes, partly because if the topic was any broader, at the depth of information the book goes into it would be incredibly long (also because they followed more of a pattern of lifestyle). I found the structure a fairly effective way to break down the topic, and while at times she didn't talk about things in the chapter I expected, it all flows seamlessly. I found it made it a more engaging mix.
As many people point out, women get talked about more than men, but that is because this book is focusing on the domestic life, and of course the women tended to stay at home, and most of the servants were women. Reflecting on what happened in real life vs. what was preached, and also our modern perceptions (women did go out on the streets by themselves), a realistic portrait of middle-class Victorian life is painted. When one realises how filthy and how much hard work went into cleaning things every day it becomes rather unappealing!
As many people point out, women get talked about more than men, but that is because this book is focusing on the domestic life, and of course the women tended to stay at home, and most of the servants were women. Reflecting on what happened in real life vs. what was preached, and also our modern perceptions (women did go out on the streets by themselves), a realistic portrait of middle-class Victorian life is painted. When one realises how filthy and how much hard work went into cleaning things every day it becomes rather unappealing!
February 6, 2020
Not only does Flanders break down the social history of the Victorian middle class household, she also breaks past the facade of the ‘ideal’, or ‘perfect’ home. The Victorians are often portrayed as pious, successful, domestic goddesses & savvy businessmen, without struggle or vanity. The reality is much different.
Outlined in her book, the author takes us on a tour from room to room (the ideal Victorian household had an affinity for single use rooms & spaces), and opens our eyes to the daily routines, odd rituals, and the everyday grime of keeping a home. This book is a veritable treasure trove of information. An intimate look into a fascinating time.
I have a personal appreciation for the lack of sexual discussion in this book, (with a few minor references here & there) which so closely delves into the lives of men & women, allowing me to recommend this as additional reading for the older student.
Outlined in her book, the author takes us on a tour from room to room (the ideal Victorian household had an affinity for single use rooms & spaces), and opens our eyes to the daily routines, odd rituals, and the everyday grime of keeping a home. This book is a veritable treasure trove of information. An intimate look into a fascinating time.
I have a personal appreciation for the lack of sexual discussion in this book, (with a few minor references here & there) which so closely delves into the lives of men & women, allowing me to recommend this as additional reading for the older student.
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