Women! You need to read this book. Armchair Historians! You need to read this book. Forensic Sociologists! You need to read this book.
Moll Flanders is, I think, a rare look at the treatment and disposition of lower class women in Britain in the early 1700s--what they thought, how they comported, and their daily interactions, no matter how insignificant. What makes it a rare exposition? Fiction ofttimes captures the mood and milieu of a people and their condition far more accurately--and with much more meaning--than sterile government reporting and historian interpretations thereof. And this book is a snapshot of the then-current state of low income conditions instead of a retroactive screed or a future prediction.
Daniel Defoe is regarded (by those crazy Wikipedians) as one of the most prolific of all British writers, and he is certainly one of the best at cataloging daily life. His fiction portrayed Everyman (or Everywoman in this case). It's a welcome relief to fiction of the Royal Court--its seneschals, courtiers, gallery, entourage, baggage, its rarefied air--that was so common among his literary peers. Defoe's main character, Moll, is a woman with little money and few prospects. Throughout the book we witness the vagaries of her life in astonishingly candid details. She willfully, gladly and repeatedly partakes in whoring, infidelity, incest, child abandonment, rampant thievery, collusion, obstruction, misrepresentation. Despite what would normally be intriguing yet deplorable behavior, Defoe manages to make Moll, if not a likable character, at least one under which the pressures of her demographic makes her a believable, credible, and forgivable protagonist.
I understand Moll's behavior to be a faithful representation of her class. Unschooled, abused, almost no legal rights, victimized by any able man, no great hopes to improve her condition, destitute, routinely sick, routinely pregnant--this is the daily grind for women in 1722 Britain. Moll Flanders is a good, though unintentional, primary source that could easily be used as a historiography of the era.
I recommend women read this book, not for my star rating, but because a man has written what I believe is a true, unabashed representation of a woman's condition in the 1700s. I'd like to know what women think of this book. I believe the abuse, sexual mores, and survival tactics of women in a brutish man's world at the lowest income levels is an unexpected reveal, and though the story drags at first, you may find yourself rooting for Moll. And despite her licentiousness, she ultimately finds modest wealth and success. She outwits the legal system, prevails to find a man of some substance, and escapes her demographic. Interestingly, she makes no excuse for how she lived; there's reflection, but no real penitence.
What do women today think of Moll? Is she diamond or quartz? Is this image of woman ready for high school English--a discussion for sophomores? Now, Robinson Crusoe is close to my heart as one of my rare 5 star ratings, and the only book I've read both as a child and an adult, with equal curiosity and gusto, producing equal coolness. But I'm a man, and that was a man-story (and a boy's story too). So, if this story is about a women, does it work in the same regard as RC does for men?
The writing, by common translation, has all the mile markers of early 18th century prose. The pervasive capitalization of random nouns, the apostrophe-heavy argot, no break for chapters, and the fastidiousness of complete thoughts for every sentence. All the hallmarks of what was then 'proper writing.' In the handwritten manuscript, I picture the letter 's' written like so many 'f's. 3.5 stars.