European History
By Sara Golru, Historian
The following contains a small selection of three essays on European History (Italian, Russian and French) written by Sara Golru.
The Ideal Renaissance Person
The Impact of the Russian Revolution on the Lives of Russian Women
The Influence of Jean-Jacques Rousseau on the French Revolution
The Ideal Renaissance Person
Published 25 November 2015
Daniel Javitch maintains that the ideal Renaissance person possessed ‘such qualities as reticence, detachment and understatement’.[1] However, both Baldesar Castiglione’s Il Libro del Cortegiano and Giovanni Della Casa’s Galateo depict the characteristics of the ideal person as far more complex, requiring them to be artful in sprezzatura, preferably elitist, inherently masculine and intent on personal success. Although both works share these underlying assumptions on the attributes of the perfect person, they differ to some extent in their depiction of the aims behind this quest for seeming perfection. In this essay, I will firstly analyse the depictions of sprezzatura in Cortegiano and Galateo respectively. I will then go on to analyse the relationship between class and sprezzatura by arguing that embedded class prejudices in Renaissance society resulted in the championing of nobility and elitist characteristics for the ideal Renaissance person. Thirdly, I will deconstruct the intrinsically gendered meaning of sprezzatura in the context of an evolving interpretation of male and female identity. In this sense, I will discuss the rampant gynophobia that led to an undermining of female characteristics as fundamentally contrary to the ideal Renaissance person. Finally, I will compare and contrast the intrinsic aims of both works in terms of their focus on individual success and pleasing others. This essay will close with the argument that the ideal Renaissance person was wholly idealistic and could never exist as the inner tensions and anxieties inherent in sprezzatura ultimately precluded the achievement of true perfection.
Both courtly manuals emphasize the importance of sprezzatura as an attribute of the ideal Renaissance person whether in the context of courtly etiquette or in polite society. In Cortegiano, the Count implicitly provides a definition of sprezzatura as a speaker’s ability to arouse ‘our deepest emotions…know how to speak with such simple candour [and] such easy competence that the listener is given to believe that with very little effort he would be able to achieve…excellence’.[2] Hilary Adams elaborates that sprezzatura is an ‘attitude of mind’ which applies to every aspect of life from battles to story-telling.[3] Cortegiano itself is the perfect example of sprezzatura. Castiglione denies all responsibility for any fault the book may contain in the initial pages and understates his talent by suggesting that he is ‘a worthless painter who knows only how to draw the outlines’ and proclaiming that if he is ‘censured for this or the other fault in this book (and I know there are only too many) I shall not deny the truth’.[4] Thus, Castiglione prepares the reader for a poorly expressed piece of writing with many faults which significantly increases the impact of the eloquence that is to come. His suggestion that the book is full of faults prompts the reader to assume that Castiglione’s writings have been largely effortless, not even warranting a second glance to correct any errors. Prefacing the book in this way allows Castiglione to engage in his own sprezzatura by encouraging the reader to believe that his ensuing perfection is not rehearsed. Similarly, the Count suggests that his entire monologue on the manners of polite society is improvised by stating to the Duchess that ‘since you command me, I will say what comes to mind’.[5] Moreover, in response to Morello’s questioning whether everyone could understand an elegant courtier, the Count goes into explicit detail to explain that a good courtier should always make ‘his meaning absolutely plain, taking pains to clarify every ambiguity’.[6] In this sense, the Count cleverly presents himself as the perfect courtier by doing precisely what he described a good courtier should do. Thus, in Cortegiano, Castiglione and the Count portray themselves as the ideal Renaissance person as they exemplify the model of being artful in sprezzatura.
In Galateo, Della Casa demonstrates this sprezzatura in action and implicitly reveals the consequences of always performing to a world of performers who know you are performing. Hilary Adams maintains that sprezzatura is completely absent in Galateo as Della Casa simply provides practical guidance on the details of etiquette.[7] However, Harry Berger Jr. explains that the anecdote of Count Ricciardio is the perfect example of sprezzatura as it ultimately displays not only the elitism of sprezzatura but also how it generates ‘representation anxiety’.[8] In this anecdote, Count Ricciardio is admired by Messer Galateo for his ‘graceful and well-mannered’ demeanour and yet simultaneously condescendingly provided a ‘loving gift of reprimand’ criticizing him for the ‘strange sound’ of his chewing.[9] In turn, this prompts the Count to blush and ‘thank him profusely for all [his] courtesy and generosity’ and to proclaim that he ‘will diligently and carefully avoid this fault’.[10] Thus, Galateo employs sprezzatura by taking advantage of Ricciardio’s fault and highlighting his flaw under the pretense of a ‘gift’ to save him from future embarrassment when in fact this further humiliates him as he is forced to thank the bishop and thereby acknowledge his social superiority.[11]. Thus, mastering the art of sprezzatura is an integral part of the ideal Renaissance person as it can ensure their place at the top of the social hierarchy.
However, sprezzatura is arguably confined to well-born men as the skills required to achieve sprezzatura are far more easily attained if one is of noble birth. In Cortegiano, the Count predominantly addresses ‘well-born men’ and rarely mentions lower classes unless in a dismissive way and employing elitist language, such as the statement ‘even by noble and educated men, let alone the common people’.[12] Moreover, it is difficult to achieve the skills mentioned by the Count, such as possessing great knowledge, choosing words carefully and expressing oneself well, unless one is educated and/or of noble birth.[13] This is further reiterated in Canossa’s frank advice that ‘the ideal courtier should be nobly born.’[14] Della Casa also alienates lower classes by addressing Galateo to his nephew, a member of an ancient and prominent family in Florence.[15] At the outset of Galateo, he states that ‘if you follow my advice, you may stay on the right path towards…the praise and honour of your distinguished and noble family’.[16] This emphasis on social status continues throughout Galateo as Della Casa writes that ‘everyone must dress well according to his status’ and that certain acts ‘in the presence of a friend of lower social rank…would show not arrogance but rather love and intimacy’.[17]Moreover, Della Casa separates his discussion of the manners of servants and focuses this section entirely around the significance of servants adapting their manners to please their masters.[18] This reading of Cortegiano and Galateo supports Eduardo Saccone’s argument that sprezzatura symbolizes elitism and aristocratic arrogance.[19] However, it entirely conflicts with Jennifer Richards’ argument that sprezzatura could create a more flexible sense of ‘nobility’ which is not limited by notions of lineage and allows anyone to improve their status.[20] Richards highlights that Canossa eventually changes his initial perspective and ultimately argues that ‘nobility is a practiced virtue, even though it may originally be a divine gift’.[21] However, this argument is undercut by Canossa’s later conceding that ‘noble birth is still important since it is highly esteemed in the popular imagination’.[22] Thus, ultimately, the ideal Renaissance person should preferably be of noble birth, though some educated members of the lower classes may be able to achieve sprezzatura.
Moreover, the ideal Renaissance person was not only preferably of noble lineage but was also required to be a man with typically masculine characteristics. Sprezzatura and good manners were exclusively identified with masculinity rather than as traits that everyone, regardless of gender, should strive to achieve. Although Castiglione praises the Duchess in the opening pages of Il Cortegiano, the work contains strong sexist undertones.[23]. The Count in Cortegianosays that a good courtier should have a ‘good voice, not too thin and soft like a woman’s’ which suggests that women cannot be good orators and therefore they cannot be successful courtiers.[24] Harry Berger Jr. suggests that this inability of women to become good courtiers stems from the fact that ‘sprezzatura is depicted as a source and sign of manly inner strength rather than of effeminacy’.[25] However, this is arguably contradicted by a deeper reading of the Count’s arguments in Cortegiano which suggest that sprezzatura applies to women but in a purely aesthetic way. For example, women’s sprezzatura involves the way they don their makeup to suggest effortless, natural beauty or the graceful yet calculated manner in which they sometimes lift their dress to reveal the elegance of ‘velvet shoes and dainty stockings’.[26]
However, although the ideal Renaissance woman may exhibit sprezzatura, she could still not be an ideal courtier as that requires masculine characteristics. This is further reiterated in Stephen Kolsky’s argument that the discussion on the role of female courtiers in Cortegiano was constantly dominated by disparaging male perspectives from characters such as Bibbienna, Pallavicino and Boccaccio.[27] Kolsky notes that this resulted in a gender-differentiation of perfection and an ‘implicit hierarchy of male and female activities’ resulting in female courtiers being restricted to the palace whereas their male counterparts could perform anywhere, especially the battlefield.[28] This argument is taken further in Della Casa’s Galateo as he purports that ‘it is also not appropriate, especially for men, to be overly sensitive and fastidious, for to deal in this way with other people is called not companionship but servitude’.[29] He then goes on to say, ‘such sensitivity and such fastidiousness are best left to women’.[30] Thus, the ideal courtier and even the ideal well-mannered person was depicted as a man who contained none of the qualities associated with women. This entirely excludes women by suggesting that they could never attain the status of a well-mannered or pleasing person, let alone a successful courtier.
The reason for this underlying elitism and sexism of the ideal Renaissance person could lie in the emphasis Castiglione and Della Casa place on improving personal status. Berger Jr. maintains that these works are ‘less a code of precepts than a technology of aggressive and self-protective practices, a Hobbesian war of every peer against every peer’.[31] This can clearly be seen in the use of jokes in Cortegiano to aggressively and defensively employ regional patriotism in a manner that denigrates others from differing regional backgrounds. The anti-Venetian and anti-Florentine jokes, delivered by Bibbiena and Bembo respectively, reveal how these courtiers cleverly disguise their regional conflicts as humour thereby undermining the other party without being openly hostile or aggressive.[32] For example, Bembo’s joke about a Florentine commander belittled Bibienna and other Florentines by describing them as naïve, soft and inefficient in the art of warfare.[33] Subsequently, Bibienna retaliates with jabs at the unsuccessful battles of the Venetians and Bembo responds with more jokes about the failed military ventures, corruption, egotism and short-sightedness of the Florentines and this warfare of words continues with other characters occasionally stepping in to fan the flames.[34] This joking is ultimately performed with the goal of asserting superior social status by suggesting that the other person’s regional affiliations diminishes their social rank.
Yet, improving personal status does not simply include subtly undermining your contemporaries but also pleasing others in order to gain valuable social connections. Della Casa instructs that the ideal person must ‘temper and adapt your manners not according to your own choices but according to the pleasure of those with whom you are dealing and act accordingly’.[35] He reprimands those ambitious persons who ‘want to have an advantage over others in all things [and] take the place of honour’ thereby suggesting a departure from Castiglione’s emphasis on personal advancement.[36] The acts of sprezzatura in Cortegiano could arguably accumulate to arrogance which Della Casa describes as ‘nothing else but lack of respect for others’.[37] Ultimately, Della Casa focuses on how good manners can ensure others feel at ease in your company and never be offended or disgusted by your actions. In this sense, Della Casa emphasizes how to increase one’s status by gaining more social confidence, more connections and also occasionally allowing one to assert social superiority, as in the case of Count Riccardio and the bishop. Although Della Casa’s primary focus seems to be broadly ensuring successful social interactions in civil society, he suggests at the outset of the work that abiding by his advice will ensure ‘praise and honour’.[38] Thus, it could be argued that Galateo is similar to Cortegiano as both works suggest, implicitly and explicitly, that their goal is to improve the personal status of their readers.
In relation to Cortegiano, James Holmes highlights that Castiglione’s detailed description of the characteristics of the ideal courtier are carefully crafted with the goal of pleasing princes.[39] Hilary Adams argues that this desire to please, evident in both works, is a product of the humanist influences of the Renaissance era which strove to train men to be perfect citizens.[40] However, it could be argued that the need to please others is simply a step to achieving the ultimate goal of improving one’s status, either as a courtier or in civilized society. The ability to please a prince in Renaissance Italy would certainly ensure the elevation of one’s social status. Thus, the ideal Renaissance person must possess the ability to please others in order to gain social advantage.
This need to constantly perform before an audience who knows one is performing inevitably results in such anxiety that the very notion of the ideal Renaissance person can become elusive. Eleanor Leach suggests that courtiers were highly conscious and sensitive not only to the power which sprezzatura could provide but also to the instability of the social construct on which their entire situation depended.[41] Harry Berger Jr. describes sprezzatura as a ‘demand’ rather than a choice among courtiers inevitably leading to a ‘self-fulfilling culture of suspicion’ causing constant fear and anxiety due to the hanging threat of disempowerment.[42] This anxiety manifests itself in a fear that ‘the performance of naturalness [may be] spoiled by unwanted leakages of the less ideal nature that he is expected to suppress/transcend’ leading him to repress aspects of his character that doesn’t fit the model of the ideal Renaissance person.[43] This inherent inner tension that performers would experience on a daily basis indicates that the perfection of the ideal Renaissance person is entirely illusory. Constantly performing a persona has the potential to expose the true person behind the act at any moment, such as in the case of Count Ricciardio, leading to the immediate shattering of their perceived perfection. This leaves the Renaissance person constantly striving for an ideal just beyond their grasp. Thus, the ideal Renaissance person is either inexistent or only ideal temporarily, until their act inevitably falls apart and reveals the true human imperfection lying within.
Ultimately, both works construct the ideal Renaissance person as skilled in sprezzatura, preferably elitist, masculine and determined to improve their personal status. Castiglione, writing in relation to courtly etiquette, suggests that this apparent perfection will lead to personal admiration, glory and success. Of course, the downside to such extreme and ambitious desires is the fear of losing face and having one’s true self unveiled. Della Casa writes not of personal desires but more of the importance of civilized manners for their own sake. On the face of it, Della Casa’s writings exert an essential goal to please others rather than oneself. However, a deeper reading of Galateo highlights an implicit endorsement of sprezzatura by outlining the strategies which allow one to assert social superiority. As discussed in this essay, it was necessary for Renaissance Italians to aspire to this apparent perfection in order to affirm their status, as Harry Berger Jr. stated, in terms of ‘socioeconomic rank or class, political power and gender’.[44] This emphasis on status inevitably led to the representation of the ideal Renaissance person as inherently ambitious, competitive and yet forced to conceal these traits in order to win social advantage. The suffering of this persistent inner tension and anxiety suggests that the perfection of the ideal Renaissance person was no more than an ideal to aspire towards but never to be attained.
[1] Daniel Javitch, ‘Il Cortegiano and the Constraints of Despotism’ in Robert W. Hanning and David Rosand, eds., Castiglione: The Ideal and the Real in Renaissance Culture (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989), pp. 23, 26.
[2] Baldesar Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier, trans. George Bull (New York: Penguin Books Ltd., 2004), p. 78.
[3] Hilary Adams, ‘Il Cortegiano and Il Galateo’, The Modern Language Review, 42, no. 4 (October 1947), p. 458.
[4] Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier, pp. 32-3.
[5] Ibid., p. 75.
[6] Harry Berger Jr., The Absence of Grace: Sprezzatura and Suspicion in Two Renaissance Courtesy Books (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2000), p. 31.
[7] Adams, ‘Il Cortegiano and Il Galateo’, p. 458.
[8] Berger Jr., The Absence of Grace, p. 31.
[9] Giovanni Della Casa, Galateo: A Renaissance Treatise on Manners, Konrad Eisenbichler and Kenneth R. Bartlett, eds. (Toronto: Centre for Reformation and Renaissance Studies, 1994), p. 4.
[10] Ibid.
[11] Berger Jr., The Absence of Grace, pp. 31, 59.
[12] Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier, pp. 75, 78.
[13] Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier, p. 77.
[14] Jennifer Richards, ‘Assumed Simplicity and the Critique of Nobility: Or, How Castiglione Read Cicero’, Renaissance Quarterly, 54, no. 2 (2001), p. 462.
[15] Della Casa, Galateo, p. 1.
[16] Ibid., p. 1.
[17] Ibid., pp. 6-7.
[18] Ibid., p. 5.
[19] Eduardo Saccone, ‘Grazia, Sprezzatura, Affettazione in the Courtier’ in Robert W. Hanning and David Rosand, eds., Castiglione: The Ideal and the Real in Renaissance Culture (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1983), p. 60; Richards, ‘Assumed Simplicity’, p. 463.
[20] Richards, ‘Assumed Simplicity’, p. 463; Berger Jr., The Absence of Grace, pp. 16-17.
[21] Richards, ‘Assumed Simplicity’, p. 475.
[22] Ibid.
[23] Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier, pp. 32-33, 77; Della Casa, Galateo, p. 10.
[24] Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier, p. 77.
[25] Berger Jr., The Absence of Grace, p. 11.
[26] Ibid., pp. 93-4; Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier, pp. 54-55.
[27] Stephen Kolsky, Courts and Courtiers in Renaissance Northern Italy (Aldershot: Ashgate Variorum, 2003), pp. 43-6.
[28] Ibid., pp. 45-6.
[29] Della Casa, Galateo, p. 10.
[30] Ibid.
[31] Berger Jr., The Absence of Grace, p. 59.
[32] JoAnn Cavallo, ‘Joking Matters: Politics and Dissimulation in Castiglione’s Book of the Courtier’, Renaissance Quarterly, 53, no. 2 (2000), pp. 402-3.
[33] Ibid., p. 407.
[34] Ibid., pp. 405-420.
[35] Della Casa, Galateo, pp. 2, 9.
[36] Ibid., p. 8.
[37] Ibid.
[38] Ibid., p. 1.
[39] James Holmes, ‘Italian Courtesy-Books of the Sixteenth Century’, The Modern Language Review 5, no. 2 (April 1910), p. 151; See also: Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier, pp. 76-80; Berger Jr., The Absence of Grace, pp. 10, 19-20.
[40] Adams, ‘Il Cortegiano and Il Galateo’, p. 460.
[41] Eleanor Leach, ‘Harry Berger’s Sprezzatura and the Poses of Cicero’s de Oratore’, in Nina Levine and David Lee Miller, eds., A Touch More Rare: Harry Berger, Jr., and the Arts of Interpretation (New York: Fordham University Press, 2009), p. 186.
[42] Berger Jr., The Absence of Grace, pp. 4, 11-12.
[43] Ibid., p. 18.
[44] Berger Jr., The Absence of Grace, p. 1.
The Impact of the Russian Revolution on the Lives of Russian Women
Published 22 November 2014
The Russian Revolution elevated the legal and socio-political status of women and paved the way for women’s emancipation. However, inherently flawed Bolshevik logic and continuing patriarchy arguably stifled the potential impact of this elevated status on the lives of ordinary women. Considering the significance of women’s rallies in Petrograd on International Women’s Day (8th of March 1917), it is inevitable that the subsequent Revolution would have a substantial impact on the lives of women.[1] The personal and political experiences of Alexandra Kollontai demonstrate the beneficial effects of the Revolution which freed women from rigid gender roles and complete male dependence. However, Kollontai’s experiences are primarily exclusive to the Russian elite and are by no means representative of the entire female population. [2] In order to avoid a perpetuation of ‘great man history’ and in the interests of balancing Kollontai’s Capitalist critique, this essay will also discuss the experiences of Nina Lugovskaya as well as those of female factory workers. This essay will examine the positive and negative effects of the Revolution on women who were provided greater legal and political rights but simultaneously expected to participate in the workforce and reproduce. In doing so, this essay will analyse how a misguided understanding of women’s emancipation which dominated Bolshevik policies ultimately failed to revolutionise Russian women’s lives and instead renewed gender conservatism.
Following the Revolution in 1917, women’s political and legal status in Russia was transformed as the Bolshevik government granted women numerous rights under the guise of achieving gender equality. Significant legislative enactments included the legalization of abortion, the legal recognition of civil marriages, divorce, ‘equal pay for equal work’ and the legal equality of legitimate and illegitimate children.[3] Prior to the Revolution, female participation in the economy ‘was viewed as a deviation from the norm, as a disturbance of the natural order of things’.[4] In order to satisfy Communist ideals, women were expected to work following the Revolution and the number of working women ‘surpasse[d] the male figure’ with women flooding into the labour market, commercial firms and the professional arts and sciences.[5] With this vast increase in female employment, issues of ‘maternity protection’ and ‘maternity insurance’ naturally came to the fore.[6] This inevitably led to the introduction of legislation prohibiting overtime work, allowing maternity leave ‘for two months before and after birth, time at work to breast-feed, and prohibition of child labour and night work for women’.[7] The Revolution also sparked the establishment of ‘524 protection of motherhood and social education sections’ and approximately 200 ‘consultation centres for pregnant and nursing mothers’ as well as the establishment of women’s newspapers, conferences and congresses in Russia.[8] This vast array of socio-political opportunities for women was ‘rarely found in the West’ in the early 20th century and undoubtedly signified a phenomenal improvement in the lives of Russian women following the Revolution.[9]
These post-1917 legislative enactments unsurprisingly revolutionised women’s perspectives of themselves in relation to men by encouraging greater independence among women. Prior to the Revolution, women experienced a constant and ‘complete helplessness in life’ and they feared independence from men as the loss of their sole source of material and moral support.[10] As a result of legislation legalising abortion, divorce, civil marriages, equal pay and paid maternity leave, women were able to appreciate and even embrace independence as well as value their personal freedom and sense of identity.[11] Alexandra Kollontai herself did not succumb to male domination as she claimed that no man ever had ‘a direction-giving influence’ on her life and she always remained ‘the guiding spirit’.[12] Similarly, Nina Lugovskaya had an undeniably strong sense of identity and ‘self-understanding’[13]. Like Kollontai, Lugovskaya demanded ‘respect for her ego’ and would ‘not endure despotism’.[14] However, where Kollontai perceives marriage as a restraint on freedom, Lugovskaya perceives the orders of ‘The Party’ as a restriction on her liberty.[15] Nevertheless, like Kollontai and the ‘new woman’, Lugovskaya’s romantic sentiments are not the sole focus of her existence which is dominated by political opposition and introspection.[16] Lugovskaya’s experiences arguably support Kollontai’s conclusion that the Revolution enabled women to liberate themselves from ‘love’s servitude’ and experience love as nothing more than a ‘transient’ matter, insisting instead on their ‘inner freedom’.[17]
However, Kollontai arguably portrays an ‘idealist conception of the evolution of women’s place in society’ which is restricted to the experiences of the educated Russian upper classes and is entirely inapplicable to the wholly negative repercussions of the Revolution on female factory workers. [18] Prior to the Revolution, women always had their child ‘in [their] arms’ but industrialization coupled with poverty drove ‘women out of the home’ into a work environment that had ‘no mercy on the pregnant woman or the young mother’.[19] Most female workers were given jobs that required no training thus, despite ‘equal work for equal pay’, inequality persisted due to the under-representation of women in well-paid jobs.[20] The situation of women was thereby worsened as they were inevitably exploited ‘on two fronts’ in both the home and the work environment.[21] Bernice Rosenthal argues that the Revolution ‘liberated women more for their labour power than for their personal fulfilment; women became workers but remained housewives and mothers under extremely difficult conditions’.[22] This reveals the inherent incongruity of Bolshevik logic as economic participation was crucial to women’s emancipation but women were also required to fulfil their ‘social role’ as ‘mothers and educators’.[23] The negative ramifications of the Revolution on women’s lives could thereby arguably be attributed to Vladimir Lenin’s misguided definition of female emancipation as ‘a social economy and the participation of women in general productive labour’.[24]
Lenin’s perception of women’s emancipation suggests that the Revolution was not truly revolutionary for women but rather consolidated Russia’s prior gender conservatism. Beryl Williams argues that the Soviet state has always been patriarchal with women restricted to the role of deputies in all fields.[25] Kollontai’s obligation to suppress her critical remarks on the Party’s passivity with regard to women’s oppression supports this proposition that, even post-Revolution, women’s rights continued to be silenced and ignored by the State.[26] Moreover, Stephen Kotkin demonstrates that despite a few exceptions, ‘women, when they were quoted in the newspapers, rarely spoke as anything other than loyal wives’.[27] Beatrice Farnsworth purports that Russian socialists were not actually committed to working for the liberation of women but that it was, in fact, resisted as a goal.[28] Similarly Richard Stites argues that ‘all Bolshevik leaders proclaimed in principle the equality of the sexes, but most of them had no interest in the rapid emancipation of women’.[29] This argument is supported by the Bolshevik’s description of women as ‘the weaker members of society’ who needed to be protected which reflects the pre-revolutionary notions of women’s material and moral dependency on men.[30] This heavily contrasts with Kollontai’s belief that ‘women were inherently strong and needed freedom from the debilitating protection of men’.[31]
This unchanged patriarchal position of Bolshevik leaders meant that women’s interests remained in the socio-political background while the interests of the male-controlled state continued to dominate. For example, even though the legalisation of abortion inevitably benefited women, it was ultimately legalised in order to benefit the State by preventing the expansion of the population while the country was in poverty.[32] Moreover, although a women’s section of the Communist party, the Zhontdel (1919-1930), was established ‘under the general leadership of Inessa Armand and Kollontai’, the organisation was never prioritised by the government and it remained ‘underfinanced, and their aims held in dubious repute by many male Bolshevik leaders’.[33] However, Beryl Williams suggests that regardless of the male Bolshevik’s opinions, the Zhontdel ‘undoubtedly achieved much in the decades of its existence’ including mass literacy classes, campaigns to stop prostitution, enforcement of the new laws protecting women and encouragement of political education.[34] In any case, many of these improvements were eradicated under Stalin’s ‘counter-revolution in women’s emancipation’.[35]
Therefore, the Russian Revolution had the potential to revolutionise the lives of women but established patriarchal attitudes ultimately prevented the effective implementation of gender equality movements and new legislation. Gender-based legislation such as maternity leave, abortion and equal pay for equal work essentially afforded women greater opportunities by encouraging their social and economic independence. The great emphasis on freedom encapsulated in the writings of Kollontai and Lugovskaya are testament to not only the Revolution’s expansion of women’s legal rights but also the validation of their sense of identity. However, these positive impacts of the Revolution were ultimately obstructed by the Bolshevik’s somewhat paradoxical attitude towards the role of women as workers as well as housewives and mothers in a manner which inevitably necessitated a continued reliance on men. Moreover, the inherent Bolshevik perception of women as biologically inferior as well as the continued male domination of the Bolshevik party and their condescension towards women’s emancipation suggests that the Revolution simply signified a perpetuation of long-established gender conservatism in Russia.
[1] Alexandra Kollontai, ‘Women and the Revolution,’ in Alix Holt, ed.&trans., Selected Writings of Alexandra Kollontai, (Westport, Conn: L. Hill, 1977), p.113.
[2] Beryl Williams, ‘Kollontai and After: Women in the Russian Revolution,’ in Siân Reynolds, ed., Women, State and Revolution: Essays on Power and Gender in Europe Since 1789 (Sussex: Wheatsheaf Books, 1986), p.61.
[3] Kollontai, ‘Women and the Revolution,’ p.116; Bernice Glatzer Rosenthal, ‘Love on the Tractor: Women in the Russian Revolution and After,’ in Renate Bridenthal and Claudia Koonz, eds., Becoming Visible: Women in European History (Boston: Houghton, Millfin, 1987), p.378-9; Beryl Williams, ‘Kollontai and After: Women in the Russian Revolution,’ p.74.
[4] Alexandra Kollontai, ‘The New Woman’ in Iring Fetscher ed. and Salvator Attanasio, trans., The Autobiography of a Sexually Emancipated Communist Woman, (New York: Schocken Books, 1975), p.95 [original manuscript].
[5] Ibid.
[6] Alexandra Kollontai, ‘Working Woman and Mother’ in Alix Holt, ed.&trans., Selected Writings of Alexandra Kollontai, (Westport, Conn: L. Hill, 1977), p136-137.
[7] Beryl Williams, ‘Kollontai and After: Women in the Russian Revolution,’ p.74.
[8] Alexandra Kollontai, The Autobiography of a Sexually Emancipated Communist Woman, ed. Iring Fetscher, trans. Salvator Attanasio (New York: Schocken Books, 1975), p.42 [original manuscript]; BerylWilliams, ‘Kollontai and After: Women in the Russian Revolution,’ p.74; Alexandra Kollontai, ‘The Labour of Women in the Revolution of the Economy’ Mother’ in Alix Holt, ed.&trans., Selected Writings of Alexandra Kollontai, (Westport, Conn: L. Hill, 1977), p.144, 148.
[9] Richard Stites, ‘The Russian Revolution and Women,’ in Marilyn Boxer and Jean Quataert, eds., Connecting Spheres: Women and the Western World, 1500 to the Present (New York: Oxford University Press, 1978), p.255.
[10] Alexandra Kollontai, ‘The New Woman’, pp. 82-83.
[11] Ibid.
[12] Alexandra Kollontai, The Autobiography of a Sexually Emancipated Communist Woman, p.13 [original manuscript].
[13] Alexandra Kollontai, ‘The New Woman’, p.65 [original manuscript].
[14] Ibid, p.76-79 [original manuscript]; Nina Lugovskaya, I Want to Live: The Diary of a Young Girl in Stalin’s Russia (London:Doubleday, 2006), pp. 18-22, 28, 36, 40, 45, 53.
[15] Ibid; Barbara Clements, ‘Emancipation through Communism: The Ideology of A. M. Kollontai,’ Slavic Review 313 (1973), p.327; Alexandra Kollontai, ‘The New Woman’, p.76-79 [original manuscript].
[16] See for example: Nina Lugovskaya, I Want to Live, pp. 18-22, 28, 36, 40, 45, 53.
[17] Alexandra Kollontai, ‘The New Woman’, pp. 86, 90 [original manuscript], 76-79 [original manuscript].
[18] Jacqueline Heinen, ‘Kollontai and the History of Women’s Oppression,’ New Left Review 110 (1978), p.54.
[19] Alexandra Kollontai, ‘Women and the Revolution’, p. 133; Jacqueline Heinen, ‘Kollontai and the History of Women’s Oppression,’ p.53.
[20]Jacqueline Heinen, ‘Kollontai and the History of Women’s Oppression,’ p.53, 59.
[21] Richard Stites, ‘The Russian Revolution and Women’, p.249
[22] Bernice Rosenthal, ‘Love on the Tractor: Women in the Russian Revolution and After,’ p.396.
[23] Jacqueline Heinen, ‘Kollontai and the History of Women’s Oppression,’ p.57.
[24] Beryl Williams, ‘Kollontai and After: Women in the Russian Revolution,’ p.68.
[25] Ibid, p.78.
[26] Jacqueline Heinen, ‘Kollontai and the History of Women’s Oppression,’ p.46; Richard Stites, ‘The Russian Revolution and Women’, p.253; Alexandra Kollontai, The Autobiography of a Sexually Emancipated Communist Woman, p.xvi, 13 [revised manuscript], 17 [revised], 19 [revised].
[27] Stephen Kotkin, Magnetic Mountain (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995), p.221.
[28] Beatrice Farnsworth, ‘Bolshevism, the Woman Question and Alexandra Kollontai,’ American Historical Review 81 (1976), p.293.
[29] Richard Stites, ‘The Russian Revolution and Women’, p.253.
[30] Beatrice Farnsworth, ‘Bolshevism, the Woman Question and Alexandra Kollontai’, 305.
[31] Ibid, p.306; Beryl Williams, ‘Kollontai and After: Women in the Russian Revolution,’ p.68-69.
[32] Alexandra Kollontai, ‘Women and the Revolution’, p.118.
[33] Richard Stites, ‘The Russian Revolution and Women’, p.252.
[34] Beryl Williams, ‘Kollontai and After: Women in the Russian Revolution,’ p.75; Bernice Rosenthal, ‘Love on the Tractor: Women in the Russian Revolution and After,’ p.381.
[35] Richard Stites, ‘The Russian Revolution and Women’, p.254.
The Influence of Jean-Jacques Rousseau on the French Revolution
Published 20 March 2013
Over centuries, Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s influence on the French Revolution has provoked great historiographical debate. It seems his influence is more ambiguous today than it was two centuries ago. The influence of historians in ‘constructing’ history lies at the heart of this historiographical debate. The diverse personal, historical and historiographical contexts of these historians, their vastly different methodologies and their differing approaches to history have resulted in this broad range of historical interpretations. The distinct divide between the arguments of the nineteenth and twentieth/twenty-first century historians also clearly reveals the changing nature of history over time, and the questionable sources of such change.
These interpretations range from radical revolutionary glorification of Rousseau’s philosophies and their profound impact on the revolution to twentieth century revisionist theories asserting the disconnection between Rousseau and the prominent French Revolutionary sentiments. Prior to the twentieth century, it was widely accepted amongst historians that Rousseau had some form of influence on the French Revolution, be it positive or negative. Revisionist historian Joan McDonald (1965) argues that nineteenth century historians did not enquire into “the extent and nature of Rousseau’s influence” but rather, “differed only in their estimates of which particular ideas were regarded as important and by which particular Revolutionary groups.”[1] The highly conservative, British, Whig historian, Edmund Burke (1791) utilised precisely this method of historical investigation in order to blame Rousseau for the excesses of the French Revolution.
Burke is highly critical of Rousseau’s role in the French Revolution and he ardently believed Rousseau was to blame for “The Terror”.[2] His argument revolved around the French revolutionaries and their constant invocation of Rousseau’s name. He represented the commitment of the revolutionaries to Rousseau as obsessive in its rigour; “…In truth, they all resemble him. Him they study; him they meditate.”[3] As revisionist historian Alfred Cobban (1964) explains, Burke’s historical methodology is simply “to take Rousseau as the embodiment of the political philosophy of the revolution.”[4] Edmund Burke’s claim that the French Revolution was caused by the French “philisophes” [5]was very influential on enlightenment historian, Edward Gibbon. Gibbon praised Burke’s Reflections on the Revolution in France and maintained, “Burke’s book is a most admirable medicine against the French disease, which has made too much progress even in this happy country…”[6] This statement unintentionally reveals the notion that Burke’s condemnation of the French Revolution arose from his motive to defend his own British constitution and to prevent an English Revolution of the same calibre as that of the French. Gibbon reveals that even nineteenth century British historians’ quickness to blame Rousseau as the father of the Revolution may not have arisen from entirely pure motives, further reinforcing the significance of historians’ contexts in affecting their changing approaches to history. Twentieth century political historian, J.S. McClelland (1996), argues that Burke wrote his Reflections in order to create a “counter-revolutionary position” and thus he reinforces Gibbon’s insinuations that Burke wished to present the past in a manner that would affect the present, namely prevent an English revolt.[7]
Adding to the band of “nineteenth century” historians who incriminated Rousseau is Hippolyte Taine, who “reserved a place of honour in his attack on the Enlightenment for Rousseau.”[8] Taine’s positivist methodology reflected that of the Empirical historian Collingwood who believed that, “evidence is always an experience of (the historian).”[9] Similarly, Taine relied heavily on his own first-hand experiences when assessing the influence of Rousseau; such as, his witnessing of political figures who, “…have the Social Contract…in their hands as manuals.”[10] However, similar to classical historians such as Herodotus, Taine includes sources such as, “a competent judge, and an eye-witness, Mallet du Pan” yet does not analyse them.[11] However, he footnotes his sources and thus the reliability of his methodology can be perceived as closer to that of Thucydides rather than Herodotus. Twenty-first century revisionist historians, such as James Swenson (2000), can easily criticise Taine’s complete lack of analysis of sources, his present-tense purely narrative writing style and biased statements.[12] Yet, at the time Taine was writing, the Revolution was just drawing to a close and thus, the only sources available to him were oral sources, which he does include, some written propaganda sources such as speeches and pamphlets, which Burke utilises, and his own personal first-hand experiences with the Revolution which forms the basis of his historical work. So, such criticisms that Swenson provides seem anachronistic, as it is only with the advantage of hindsight that recent historians can recognise the flaws in the arguments of nineteenth century historians, such as Taine and Burke.
McClelland argues that the events that filled Taine’s historical context severely impacted upon his interpretation of Rousseau. He argues Taine’s criticisms of Rousseau appeared in 1875 after attention began to shift onto the more horrific events of the Revolution, so Taine was pressured by such circumstances to find the origins of such terrible excesses “and he found them in Rousseau.”[13]McClelland cleverly conveys the significance of historians’ contexts, as contextual events can pressure them to produce histories that reflect their contextual concerns. This has ultimately resulted in a distorted ‘construction’ of history over time as history has been recorded to reflect the changing contexts of historians. This aspect of McClelland’s argument strongly reflects the post-modernist theory of historian Carl Becker, who paradoxically claims that a historian’s idea of the past is a construction of their present.[14]
Twentieth century revisionist historians such as McClelland, Cobban and McDonald target nineteenth century French historians such as Michelet and Taine, as they believe that immediately after the French Revolution, French nationalism was soaring and there were two paths French historians[15]commonly took. They would either confront the necessity to ‘lay blame’ and ‘cover up’ the actions of the French Revolution or they would wish to glorify the Revolution. Cobban and McDonald argue that these political motives seemed to rest at the heart of many French historians and inevitably this subjectivity leaked through their pens when recording the events of history. As Cobban asserted, “The interpretation of Rousseau throughout the greater part of the nineteenth century suffered (as) he was viewed through the mists of the revolutionary age.”[16] He goes on to explain that the negative interpretations of Rousseau, “naturally prevailed most strongly in France” where Rousseau’s name was and still remains, “a political war-cry.”[17] Thus, Cobban highlights the destructive role of historians’ contexts as it significantly affects their ‘construction’ of, and approach towards, history.
Twentieth century historian, Carol Blum, pursues this line of argument as she claims that nineteenth century historians were dominated by their political motives and thus they were deeply affected by “partisanship” but now historians are emotionally detached and can view the events of the Revolution with less subjectivity than before. [18]Thus, twentieth century historians question the reliability of the nineteenth century historians, seemingly in order to emphasise their own historical reliability. Yet, post-modernist historians such as Jacques Derrida find such arguments as Blum’s fundamentally flawed as they believe that the ideal that a historian can achieve ‘emotional detachment’ is in no way plausible as the historian will always colour their work with their own subjectivities. Derrida argues that historians such as Blum falsely claim that truth is achievable, as truth can never be achieved in history due to the elusive nature of “meaning”. Thus, Blum’s approach to history is significantly undermined by the philosophical, post-modern criticisms of Derrida, ultimately revealing the tremendously differing approaches to history over time.
The aforementioned nineteenth century historians all advocated the destructiveness of Rousseau and his philosophies. Conversely, Michelet approved of Rousseau’s influence on the Revolution, just as Carlyle did. Thomas Carlyle (1840) saw the whole Revolution as emanating, in meticulous detail, from the “Gospel according to Jean-Jacques.”[19]Carlyle was a Scottish historian, so he certainly wasn’t tainted by the sense of French nationalism[20] that Michelet may have possessed, and yet, he adopted a narrative writing style very similar to that of Michelet, due to the fact that they were both Romanticist historians. As post-modernist historian, Hayden White claims, “Michelet and Carlyle looked to history for neither understanding nor explanation but rather for inspiration”.[21]White reiterates the notion that historians’ differing approaches to history significantly affected their interpretations of historical events and their ‘construction’ of history. Michelet and Carlyle strived to find inspiration in history and thus they glorified the French Revolution and Rousseau’s intrinsic connection with it.
Jules Michelet (1847), described Rousseau as “a figure of right”, thus his personal biases evidently affected his historical interpretations.[22] Swenson argues, “Michelet’s narrative account of the Revolution seldom makes an explicit place for the consideration of such questions of influence.”[23] This is due to Michelet’s motives, as a French nationalist and fervent admirer of Rousseau, he strived to maintain Rousseauian support.[24] This personal bias towards Rousseau certainly affected his representation of him throughout his work, thus reinforcing the twentieth century historians’ allegations of French subjectivity. These allegations reflect the issue of subjectivity surrounding much of modern historiography, namely the debate between modernists and post-modernists. Cobban, McClelland and McDonald almost take a post-modernist stance in their assertions against the nineteenth century historians. They reinforce Carl Becker’s post-modernist notion that historians are subject to their own inherent biases which due to historians’ critical role in the ‘construction’ of history, significantly hinders their reliability and the reliability of history as a whole.[25]
Michelet believed that a historian must incorporate themselves into their narratives in order to achieve the historian’s ultimate aim, the resurrection of the past.[26] Such a resurrection must be integral, intertwining all the elements of the past; artistic, religious, economic, as well as political.[27] To an extent, this interdisciplinary approach to history (total history) reflects the aims of the Annales historians. Yet, his narrative style clearly reflects that of the Classical historians. As twentieth century historian John Williams argues, “Michelet is not so much interested in a critical analysis of Rousseau’s ideas as he is in the emotional impact of those ideas.”[28] Thus, Williams reiterates the point that Michelet was driven by his personal motives in writing of Rousseau and as a result, disregarded necessary historical methodologies.
Nineteenth century Irish historian, William Lecky (1878) argued, “Of all the great French writers of the eighteenth century, Rousseau had the largest influence on the Revolution.”[29] He includes a source, namely, “a well-known saying of Napoleon (Bonaparte), that if Rousseau had never lived, there would have been no French Revolution” yet like Classical historian Herodotus, he doesn’t analyse his crucial source in any detail but simply states that, “…in spite of its manifest exaggeration, there is a sense in which this saying is not without plausibility.”[30]His justification for such a statement is similar to the rationalisations of Burke, specifically the revolutionaries’ fascination with Rousseau.[31] Lecky, Taine and Burke all refer to the revolutionaries when discussing Rousseau’s influence.
However, revisionist historians like McDonald and Cobban completely refute these nineteenth century methodologies as they claim, it does not prove that Rousseau had an influence on the Revolution but rather that the revolutionaries created his influence.[32]These statements are certainly valid in our context, yet for these historians who were recording history during the French Revolution, their reliance on first-hand, primary sources such as the revolutionaries and their speeches seems equally as valid; once again the twentieth century historians seem to have indulged in anachronism. However, Lecky does refer to evidence to support his arguments; he refers to the statues of Rousseau erected by the Revolutionaries and explains how such actions suggest their complete intoxication with the doctrines of Rousseau. [33] He even provides his own subjective interpretation of Rousseau’s key political work, The Social Contract in order to emphasise Rousseau’s revolutionary influence, “…the political influence of Rousseau appears to me to have been almost wholly evil.”[34] Thus, Lecky’s scathing critique of Rousseau and his political influence on the Revolution reflects the criticisms of his contemporary historians, Burke and Taine. As twentieth century French historian Furet [35] conveniently summarises, “Thus, we can see that for the whole of the nineteenth century Rousseau was at the heart of the interpretation of the Revolution for both its admirers and critics.” [36] Furet’s quote perfectly encapsulates the essence of the arguments of Rousseau’s critics, Burke, Lecky and Taine, as well as his admirers, Carlyle and Michelet.
All of these nineteenth century historians have referred to Rousseau’s Social Contract when referring to his influence on the Revolution. Yet, many twentieth century historians such as Mornet, McDonald and Cobban deeply disagree with such methodological approaches. These discrepancies arise specifically from Mornet’s historical research. In 1910, French literary historian Daniel Mornet published a study of five hundred private French libraries that confirmed the fact that Rousseau’s work, the Social Contract, was the least read of Rousseau’s books among prerevolutionary France and as such his role couldn’t possibly have been as significant as nineteenth century historians have claimed.[37] It is easily conceivable that Mornet’s methodology significantly differs from that of the nineteenth century historians as he attempted to derive reliable statistics from previously unconsidered sources such as libraries, while the nineteenth century historians simply relied on biased primary sources from the Revolution, in order to reveal the extent of Rousseau’s influence. McDonald and Cobban possess a similar view to that of Mornet and they both originate from the same “post-Mornet” context and thus they borrow heavily from his ideas and research regarding Rousseau’s non-existent impact on the Revolution. Cobban was also McDonald’s professor and thus their personal contexts were intertwined and it seems these inter-influences have impacted upon their interpretations. Both historians rely on their criticisms of the flawed interpretations of nineteenth century historians as well as the work of Mornet in order to argue Rousseau’s impact on the Revolution was minimal. Such connections further reinforce the significant impact historians’ own personal contexts have on their historical interpretations and ultimately, their ‘construction’ of history.
However, twentieth century historian, James Miller (1984) contradicts Mornet’s findings, as he argued that Mornet’s figures were misleading. He asserted that the Social Contract was banned from France and much of Europe and that Mornet’s figures fail to reflect the traffic in counterfeit editions as well as the copies sold after Rousseau’s death.[38] Similarly, Ralph Leigh[39] argued that Mornet’s research did not prove that there was a lack of interest in Rousseau’s theories, simply “systematic suppression” of such theories.[40] This proves Marxist historian E.H. Carr’s post-modernist theory, that historians each interpret evidence differently, leaving much room for discussion and debate and resulting in the absence of one true fact of history. Carr asserted that historical evidence was treated by historians like, “fish on a fishmonger slab. The historian collects them, takes them home, and cooks and serves them in whatever style appeals to him.”[41] This is clearly evident in the arguments of these historians as they simply interpret historical evidence in whatever style appeals to their own subjective contexts. Such arguments also confirm the post-modernist theory that history is not truth but simply a subjective construct of the historians’ making.
Therefore, historical interpretations of Rousseau’s role in the French Revolution have significantly transformed over time due to historians’ changing contexts and ultimately, historians’ own subjectivity in recording events and analysing sources. The historiography surrounding Rousseau’s role in the Revolution highlights the significant impact of historians in manipulating the events of history. So, it seems that Rousseau’s role in the Revolution will never be clear, yet as the debate rages on into the twenty-first century, the ever-increasing number of historians who research and comment on Rousseau’s role in the Revolution persist on finding the truth, or at least their version of it.
[1] McDonald, J., Rousseau and the French Revolution: 1762-1791, Athlone Press, University of London, 1965, p.13
[2] “The Terror” was the latter half of the French Revolution(5 September 1793 – 28 July 1794) and was a period of excessive violence, incited by conflict between rival political groups, the Girondins and the Jacobins, and marked by mass executions of alleged enemies and traitors of the revolution.
[3] Burke, E., The works of the Right Hon. Edmund Burke, S. Holdsworth, Michigan, 1837, p.482
[4] Cobban, A., Rousseau and the Modern State, Archon Books, Michigan, 1964,p.23
[5] “philosophes” (French for philosophers) were the intellectuals of the 18th century Enlightenment.
[6] Gibbon, E., The Miscellaneous works of Edward Gibbon, B. Blahe, Catalonia, 1837, p.134, “Burke’s book is a most admirable medicine against the French disease, which has made too much progress even in this happy country. I admire his eloquence, I approve his politics, I adore his chivalry, and I can even forgive his superstition. The French spread so many lies about the sentiments of the English nation, that I wish the most considerable men of all parties and descriptions would join in some public act declaring themselves satisfied with, and resolved to support, our present constitution”.
[7] McClelland, J., A History of Western Political Thought, Routledge, London, 1996, p. 251
[8] Swenson, J., On Jean-Jacques Rousseau: considered as one of the first authors of the Revolution, Stanford University Press, Stanford, California, 2000, p. 159
[9] Collingwood, R., The Principles of History, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1999,p. 21
[10] Taine, H., Origins of Contemporary France: The Ancient Regime, Kessinger Publishing, Montana, 2004, p. 228
[11] Ibid, p. 228, “a competent judge, and an eye-witness, Mallet du Pan: writes in 1799: “(Rousseau) inoculated the French with…(the Revolution’s) extremist consequences.””
[12] Swenson, op. cit, pp. 3-5, “Hippolyte Taine’s history is generally more sober than Michelet’s, although his treatment of the role of the Enlightenment is just as lyrical – albeit as elegy rather than encomium… Taine’s explanation, based entirely on literary evidence, is fundamentally culturalist in form… (his fundamentally culturalist argument) can be found in just about every other counterrevolutionary screed from Edmund Burke and Joseph de Maistre on.”
[13] McClelland, op. cit, p.252:“With the irrational mob and institutionalised terror at the centre of the Revolutionary stage, Taine began to look for their origins and he found them in Rousseau.” He explains that “Military glory” was temporarily out of fashion and with it went the political thought which was supposed to have been the French Revolution’s inspiration. He argues, “Laudatory accounts of the Revolution before Taine, had emphasised the heroism of the revolutionary wars of liberation,” but after the aforementioned French national fiasco’s, attention shifted onto the more horrific events of the Revolution such as the lynchings and ‘The Terror’.
[14] Becker, C., What are the Historical Facts?, Doubleday Publications, New York, 1959, c.f. Source Book
[15] Specifically French historians of the 19th century
[16] Cobban, op. cit, p.20
[17] Ibid, p.20
[18] Blum, C., Rousseau and the Republic of Virtue: The language of politics in the French Revolution, Cornell University Press, London, 1985, p. 16-18, “Between the two poles, however, between the affirmation that Rousseau and some other eighteenth-century thinkers had somehow provided a model for the Revolution, the Terror and subsequent manifestations of totalitarianism, and the denial of any connection between literature and events, the distance has begun to close. Within the past ten years a number of works have appeared in which the partisanship and moralism of earlier histories have begun to subside, and in which the following question is being considered more dispassionately: in what specific ways did the ideational material of the Enlightenment contribute to structuring the texts of which the Revolution was made?”
[19] Carlyle, T., On Heroes, Hero-Worship and the heroic in history, Chapman and Hall, London, 1840, p. 52
[20] For more information regarding Michelet’s nationalistic attributes refer to: Colton, J., Aspects of nationalism in Jules Michelet, 1940
[21] White, H., The Content of the Form: Narrative Discourse and Historical Representation, The John Hopkins University Press, Maryland, 1987, p. 74
[22] Michelet, J., History of the French Revolution, Charles Cocks (trans.), Oxford University, Oxford, 1847, p. v
[23] Swenson, op. cit, p. 3
[24] Williams, J., Jules Michelet: Historian as critic of French Literature, Summa Publications, U.S., 1987, p. 51-52
[25] Becker, op.cit, p.24
[26] Seznec, J., Jules Michelet, Encyclopaedia Britannica, 2012, viewed 15/04/2012, <http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/380015/Jules-Michelet>
[27] Ibid
[28] Williams, op. cit, p. 51
[29] Lecky, W., History of England in the eighteenth century ,Volume VI, Longmans, Green and co., London 1878, p. 195
[30]Ibid, p. 240
[31] Ibid, p. 240“the Bible of their creed was the ‘Social Contract’ of Rousseau.”
[32] Ibid, McDonald, p.10
[33] Ibid, p. 352
[34] Ibid, p. 243
[35] Francois Furet was a colleague of Alfred Cobban and they were both leading figures in the rejection of the “classic” or “Marxist” interpretation of the French Revolution.
[36] Furet, F. &Ozouf, M., A critical dictionary of the French Revolution, Arthur Goldhammer (trans.), Harvard university press, Cambridge, 1989, pp. 829-844
[37] Miller, J. Rousseau: Dreamer of Democracy,Hackett Publishing, United States, 1984, p. 134
[38] Ibid, p. 134,Miller specifically states, Mornet’s figures “fail to reflect the traffic in counterfeit and pirated editions – a major market for prohibited works in eighteenth-century France.”He also argues that Mornet’s findings, “do not indicate copies of the Social Contract sold after Rousseau’s death,” and asserts that “they pit the Social Contract against two of the best-selling books…La Nouvelle Heloise…Emile” and thus the Social Contract would undoubtedly seem unpopular in comparison.
[39] For more information regarding Ralph Leigh’s opinion of Rousseauian historiography, refer to: Bloch, J., Words as Weapons: Romantic Literature and the Revolution, History Today, 1989, viewed 03/06/2012, <http://www.historytoday.com/jean-bloch/words-weapons-romantic-literature-and-revolution>
[40] Swenson, op. cit, p.165
[41] Carr, E., What is History?, 2nd edition, Penguin Group, United Kingdom, 2008.