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The “Popular Prejudice”

Sep19

Throughout my research of nineteenth century works on aural surgery, as well as works on deafness and education for the deaf, I’ve come across the phrase “popular prejudice” often enough to warrant some analysis. The phrase reflects two crucial aspects of how deafness was perceived as a social image:

Firstly, deaf-mutes were constructed as social tragedies, isolated from society by their dumbness and denied the word of God by their deafness. The prejudice in this sense refers to the isolation, which could be helped only through benevolent charity and religious endeavors to release deaf-mutes form their “mental and moral imprisonment.” Seclusion in educational asylums that provided sign-language and speech instruction were deemed the best means for defeating this prejudice.

Secondly, and partly as a consequence of the first aspect, deafness was subjected to a prejudice regarding the medical and surgical impracticability of curing aural diseases. As Sir Astley Cooper (1768-1851) explained in 1801, following the success of his procedure of tympanic membrane perforation, “[a] prejudice has prevailed, that the ear is too delicate an organ to be operated upon, or, as it is commonly expressed, tampered with; and thousands have thus remained deaf…who might have been restored to hearing, had proper assistance been easily applied.”[1] Likewise, John Harrison Curtis wrote in his An Essay on the Deaf and Dumb (1829):

Though in very old cases cures may be performed, yet it is to recent ones chiefly that the aurist is to look for success; but, owing to popular prejudice, the malady is too often slighted or temporized with; and hence it is generally in confirmed cases on that he is consulted; for, in the early period of the disease when relief may be obtained, it is commonly neglected, until, tired out with the fruitless expectation of nature curing herself, the patient has at last recourse to advice.

I don’t yet have a solid historical analysis of this phrase, but I believe it’s worth emphasizing the value of it as a means for understanding the tensions between educators of asylums for the deaf and medical practitioners edging for patients. I’ll report more as I figure this out; in the meantime, your thoughts, Dear Reader, are more than welcome.

[1] Astley Cooper, “Farther Observations on the Effects which take place from the destruction of the membrana tympani of the ear,” Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society in London 91 (1801): 35-450; 449.

Leigh’s New Picture of London

Aug10

On the London Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb (est. 1792):

By this excellent institution, extensive and successful arrangements are made to teach even the deaf and dumb! So long ago as 1653, the celebrated Dr. Wallis first laid down the principles by which the deaf and dumb might be instructed, (Vide the Philosophical Transactions for 1666); and when it is considered how long the art of instructing these objects had been known, both upon the continent and in this country, it must excite astonishment that no effectual attempt was before made to extend the required assistance. It is painful to reflect, how many must have lived in misery, and died in ignorance, who might have been materially benefited, had there existed a charity of this character! The visitors of this institution will “find those who were once dumb and ignorant as the beasts of the field,” receiving a course of moral and religious instruction, and enabled to speak, read, write, cipher, and comprehend the meaning and grammatical arrangement of words. What will not perseverance accomplish,—what cannot science effect?

Leigh’s New Picture of London. Printed for Samuel Leigh, 18, Strand;
by W. Clowes, Northumberland Court. 1819

A Report on Disability & the Victorians: Confronting Legacies Conference

Aug7

From July 30 to August 1, 2012, I had the pleasure to participate in the Disability & the Victorians: Confronting LegaciesConference, hosted at the Leeds Center for Victorian Studies at Leeds-Trinity University College. Over the course of three days, the conference brought together delegates from Canada, the United States, Great Britain, Uganda, Belgium, Australia, and many more, in hopes of integrating the disciplines of Victorian Studies and Disabilities Studies together. With three keynotes and sixteen sessions, as well as a visit to the Thackray Museum, the conference presented an abundance of energetic discourse on the topic of disability—as many of you already know from my Tweets on the conference!

As disability studies has emerged as a significant aspect for revealing key histories in Victorian culture (see: Martha Stoddard-Holmes, Fictions of Affliction (2006), Julia Miele Rodas, “Mainstreaming Disability Studies,” Victorian Literature and Culture 36.1 (2006), and the Special issue on “Victorian Disability” in the Victorian Review (2009)), one of the agenda of the conference was to uncover new avenues for a revisionist approach to disability studies, outside of the social construction model. Various speakers at the conference challenged traditional histories of disability that pinpointed the Industrial Revolution and nineteenth century social reforms as a period in which disability was conceptualized, classified, and marginalized; rather, as some of the presentations have revealed, disability has a rich history, and new creative disability narratives are revealed by seeking out non-traditional sources (e.g. police reports). In particular, the Plenary Roundtable session held on the last day and led by Iain Hutchison (University of Glasgow), Fred Reid and Nancy Hansen, focused on how to offer new directions for scholarly discourse on disability studies, especially directions addressing the testimonies of the disabled themselves. Hutchison acknowledged the fact disability is important for understanding the landscape of nineteenth social history, for it overlaps important historical areas—economics, medicine, politics, society, etc—and a focus on cultural approaches can possibly challenge the (perhaps outdated?) social model of disability.

A key issue discussed during the Roundtable, which sought to integrate the dominant themes of the conference, was how to create an interdisciplinary perspective from multiple sources, an issue reflected in the three keynote presentations, which stressed the importance of looking at sensitive and neglected histories. Martha Stoddard-Holmes (California State University), the first keynote, presented “Desiring Cognitive Difference in the Victorian Novel: The Case of Anne Catherick,” discussing the eroticization of madness as presented in Wilkie Collin’s The Woman in White (1860). Can intellectual deficiency be sexually desirable? Stoddard-Holmes made a strong case for confronting critical discomfort, pushing towards challenging approaches for conceptualizing disability in relation to the history of mentality and moral management—particularly in the Victorian novel.

David Wright (McGill University), also spoke of Victorians and mental disability, in his keynote “Did the Victorians Invent Disability? A Case Study of ‘Mongolism.’” Examining the emergence of “Mongolism” (taxonomy of mental illness grouping individuals with Down’s Syndrome), Wright argues that the Victorian preoccupation of taxonomy was not about the perseverance of the dominant cultural motif, but rather a devotion to the Enlightenment ideals of betterment of mankind. As certification of “idiots” were largely undertaken by non-medical persons, the presentation challenged the “invention” of disability by medical experts in the nineteenth century—showing that disability in fact, needs to be historically re-evaluated for its roots are far more diffusive and complex.

The third keynote was presented by Vanessa Toulmin (University of Sheffield) , founder & director of National Fairground Archives, Sheffield, which holds over 6000 images relating to the history of the freak show—records, as Toulmin contends, that can be either “interpreted as both a history of exploitation, or a record of performance genres.” In the keynote, “’To Show or Not to Show’ the Victorian Freak Show: Issues of Contextualization, Cataloguing and Interpreting for Modern Researchers,” which contained controversial material that was actually approved by an ethics committee, Toulmin discussed how forms of illegitimate entertainment actually became institutionalized over time—including exhibitions, museums, circuses, world fairs, and side-show traditions. The display of disability as entertainment was actually quite widespread, and far from being displayed in the margins of society, it was actually assimilated into culture and society. As suggested in the keynote, we can clearly draw parallels between the culture of curiosities that emerged in the 16-17th centuries, and the “freaks of nature” exhibits; moreover, Toulmin argues that these entertainment environments forces us to rethink traditional histories about the “freak show,” in light of histories of performance and display—as evident with Toulmin’s narrative about learning lessons about curating and displaying these exhibitions following media controversy and outraged response. Modern media representation is something that needs to be considered when dealing with sensitive materials, for media misrepresentation actually can undo careful historical contextualization.

Even though there were some amazing papers being presented at the conference, due to my own research interests, I stuck to the sessions on d/Deafness. Traditional histories on the deaf argue that until the 1860s, deafness was often described as an affliction that isolated the individual from the Christian community, the tragedy being that the affliction denied the deaf the reach of the gospel. After the 1860s, deafness was redefined as a condition that isolated the deaf from the national community; being cut off from communicating with others was a tragedy. The papers in the first session argued that contextualization and deaf narratives actually revise this history; different perceptions on deaf history concentrating on race/ethnicity, policies, or religion, speak towards a performance of disability, emphasizing the cultural construction of disability? Esme Cleall (University of Liverpool) spoke of disability as defined within cultural contexts of colonialism of nineteenth century British empire, as narrated through John Kitto, the “Deaf Traveller,” whose privileged status as a white, British male contradicted with his marginalized position as a deaf man. Martin Atherton (University of Central Lancashire) discussed how the 1834 Poor Law categorized the deaf as part of the “deserving poor,” allowing them to be seen, for the first time, as disabled; and yet, these restrictions also gave the deaf, for the first time, something to rebel against. Toni Morgan (Leeds-Trinity University College) finished off the session by questioning n whether the deaf had “true personhood” as defined by religion, focusing on William Sleight’s voice from the Dumb (1849): promotion of sympathy and benevolence as an aspect of Christianizing deaf to hear the world of god, at the same time, deafness also portrayed as innocence or as messiahs.

The second session on deafness continued with recurring themes of charitable benevolence humanitarianism, and performance all wrapped with social controls and institutionalization. Mike Mantin (Swansea University) presented on the letters children at the Cambrian Institution for the Deaf and Dumb in Swansea sent home; these letters were printed in the annual reports of the institution to showcase its success as well as to solicit donations from subscribers. However, the letters are also another instance of display and performance, praising the marvels of education, while at the same time, speaking volumes about the perceptions of deaf children, who are usually silenced in history sources. Mantin also raised an important point about being wary of the kinds of motives behind these letters. Sofie de Veriman (University of Ghent) also spoke of motives, criticizing the “golden age” of deaf employment that coincided with education, with an economical case study of deaf employment in eighteenth and nineteenth century Flanders. Literacy and education may have helped the deaf obtain jobs before 1830, but after that, education did not guarantee employment. Nicola Gauld also discussed charity and institutions with an exploration to the archives of the Birmingham Institution for the Deaf and Dumb.

The last session on d/Deafness (other than my own) carried multiple themes relating to my own work: assistance and technology. Jennifer Esmail (Wilfred Laurier University) presented on the prosthetic companion of the blind man: companionship raising issues of dividing line of human and non-human animals—obviously ties to Aristotelianism—speaking on how perspectives on companion dogs as bodily extensions further enhances dividing barrier of human/non human beings. Graeme Gooday (University of Leeds) and Karen Sayer (Leeds-Trinity University College) presented on the “(dis)appearing hearing aid,” covering themes of the invisibility of hearing loss, stigmatization and conflicting authorities—the “culturally hearing”. Oralism, telephony, national efficiency concerns, and advertising all played a role in constructing the hearing aid. As Sayer explained, “When people think of hearing loss, they may or may not be resisting the kinds of visual association of technology.” Their presentation posed important questions of social history of technology and disability, questions which in part overlap identity narratives and taxonomies. Caroline Lieffers’(University of Alberta) paper on the making and marketing of B.F. Palmer’s artificial leg nicely rounded up the session, with discussions on authenticity and authority, and display and performance. This session raised questions of how versatile technology aimed to normalized disabilities, but yet contributed to stigmatization (e.g. concealing devises to hide disability and increase social participation), which suggests that the problem of disability is not so much about infirmity per se, but about ready access to technology.

Delegates were also invited to visit the Thackray Museum, which was one of my favourite parts of the conference. Below are some photos I managed to take with my iPad (with absolutely poor resolution!):

Thackray Museum

19th Century Auricles

Various Hearing Aid Instruments & Devices

Various hearing aid devices

Delegates inspecting various artifacts

This conference was simply wonderful. I truly enjoyed the many conversations with a wonderful group of scholars—particularly Graeme Gooday, John Hay, and Jill Jones, who offered me indispensable advise for my own work. I look forward to hearing more from the delegates as we take away some of the lessons of the conference. I would like to finish off my report with gratitude. Thank you to the organizers of Disability and the Victorians, especially Karen Sayer, for all their hard work in putting together a fantastic event, and for inviting me to participate. Thank you to the Review Committee and the Board of Disability History Association for selecting me for the 2012 DHA Graduate Student Award and to the Institution for the History and Philosophy of Science and Technology at University of Toronto, for funding that made this trip possible.

My presentation, all set up!

Deaf World/Hearing World

Aug6

As some of you may have gathered from my Tweets, my paper has been selected for the Deaf World/Hearing World: Spaces, Techniques, and Things in Culture and History Conference to take place on December 10-11 in Berlin. The conference is sponsored by the Max Planck Institute and Project Biocultures at the University of Chicago.

The history of deafness presents an exemplary model of a community’s mobilization for the recognition of a cultural identity. It is also an unequaled history of divisions across a broad range of pedagogy, techniques, and scientific inventions. Across the last four centuries at least, constructions of deafness as a cultural identity and/or as a disability have lead to opposite claims. Deafness became a focal point for arguments over citizenship, eugenics, language, theories of the mind, and the like. A different set of categories was produced to give voice to these claims and the dialogue between their supporters has been extremely difficult for lack of a common stake. Depending on the approach, one can say such a heated debate has given the question of deafness a very specific place among human variations. Sign language, in particular, has lead many to question the relationship between mind, body, and language. Topics include the use of objects and techniques for creating a space of encounter, conceptions of the relationship between humans and language, language and thought, or language and society across time and space. We are seeking explorations of the dialectic between hearing and silence, deaf and hearing as well as the technologies and ideologies that intervene between the deaf world and the hearing world, the deaf person and the hearing person.

My paper abstract:

Institutional Boundaries: The Early Years of the Royal Dispensary for Diseases of the Ear (est.1816)

The issue of medicalizing the deaf has been a primary source of conflict between the D/deaf community who regard medical treatments as an infringement to their culture, and medical practitioners who impose their paternalistic authority through medical and surgical treatments. The source of the tensions, however, goes beyond technological cures and is embodied in the historical role and conflict between medical and social efforts to cultivate “isolated” deaf individuals for social integration. This paper establishes roots in this historical picture by illustrating the early history of the Royal Dispensary for Diseases of the Ear (RDDE), founded in 1816 by the aurist-surgeon John Harrison Curtis (1784-1852) as the first nationally-recognized institution in Britain providing specialized care for deafness. In particular, this paper will demonstrate that the RDDE occupies a central place within the history of nineteenth century aural surgery, for it provides an interesting historical insight into the dialectic of spaces for deafness and hearing, as the objectives of the institution blur the boundaries between duty and philanthropy, as well as medicine and technology.

Founded at 38 Carlisle Street, London, near Soho Square, the RDDE was founded upon two main objectives: to expand on benevolent charity for a class of sufferers often neglected by society and medicine, and to provide a base whereby aural surgery could establish itself as a specialty, provide proper training to interested practitioners, and experiment with less invasive procedures for treating deafness. It was thus a space where the deaf population could go for medical advice, receive free or inexpensive hearing devices (e.g. trumpets, ear cornets), and even participate in a community conditioned largely by charity. In the first year of its establishment, 364 patients were admitted, 89 of which were cured, and 75 “relieved” of their maladies. By the end of 1820, the RDDE admitted 1,863 patients. As London society congratulated Curtis for rescuing a neglected class of diseases from ignorance and empiricism, the institution’s reputation grew more prominent; Royal patronage secured the reputation of the institution and it relocated to larger grounds at 10 Dean St., Soho, where it remained until 1876. By examining the discrepancies between the two objectives, a close history of the RDDE reveals the extent to which deafness was taken seriously as a medical and social ill and to which a cure was desperately sought within institutional boundaries.

Super excited!

From comme les monstres to hommes de la nature

Aug3

The afternoon of 1799, drew attention to the Théâtre de la République, where just five weeks after Napoleon’s seizure of power, the dramatist Jean-Nicolas Bouilly (1763-1842) was showcasing his new play, L’Abbé de l’Épée.

Jean-Nicolas Bouilly

A comedy in five acts, the play dramatized a fictionalized version of the case of the Comte de Solar, a young deaf-mute who was found wandering in the Paris countryside, seen as a ragged savage and assumed to be abandoned by his poor peasant parents. Found by Abbé de l’Épée and taken under his care, the boy is taught to communicate through sign-language, upon which he uses to unfold his chilling tale: he is really an aristocrat, left to die, in a conspiracy to prevent him from receiving his inheritance.

Stirred with the scene of clemency and moved by the Abbé de l’Épée’s devotion to his pupils, the audience during the second performance stood up, shouted, and demanded the immediate release of Roch-Ambroise Cucurron Sicard (1742-1822), the Director of the Institution Nationale des Sourdes-Mutes who was imprisoned in 1796 for the dissemination of illegal religious tracts.[1] Following a persistent campaign led by the deaf teacher Jean Massieu (1772-1846), Sicard was eventually granted amnesty by Napoleon in 1800.

As Jonathan Rée writes, the

[p]ublic agitation about the case brought to light dozens of other deaf and dumb children, abused, exposed, or confined, or exploited as meek and unprotesting chimney-sweeps, and the Abbé found himself converted into a public symbol of enlightened good works: the genial champion of poor little voiceless children, heralding an epoch where they would at last be able to enjoy their natural birthright.[2]

More significantly, the play raised questions about the relationship between language and the pre-lingustic homme de la nature.”[3]Deafness was associated in various ways: with madness, clairvoyance, illiteracy, savagery, supernatural insight, possession by the devil, and even with Christian benevolence and humility. To claim otherwise was to invoke all sorts of philosophical speculation that raised wider questions of French Enlightenment thought, particularly the images of the deaf as another aspect of the Rousseau and Condillac’s ‘noble savage.’ Even legal cases of deaf men on trial tended to leans towards the “philosophical” and offered “concerned parties an especially prime opportunity to grapple with the political implications of some of the most radical claims of Enlightenment epistemology and moral theory.”[4]

Like Rousseau, l’Épée felt there was a primordial human language that was innocent from its social constraints and able to express emotion more directly and purely. He argued that instead of being categorized with other “outsiders”—the aged, the indigent—whose social status and economic condition depended on the attitudes of “knowledgeable leaders” who defined the terms of their social integration, the deaf were better off understood in a class of their own.[5] They were not comme les monstres, he insisted, incapable of experiencing reason, memory, or judgement and thought to be no better than savages, but rather more as homme de la nature: representations of our primordial ancestors as Condillac and Rousseau argued.[6]

 NOTES

[1] Jonathan Rée, I See a Voice: Deafness, Language and the Senses—A Philosophical History (New York: Metropolitan Books, 1999), 182.

[2] Rée, I See a Voice, 150.

[3] Rosenfeld, “Deaf Men on Trial,” 166.

[4] Rosenfeld, “Deaf Men on Trial,” 158. For instance, the Caulier case—Parisan avocats argued he should not be held responsible for his crimes using an unusual line of argument: that the defendant was not violating any natural laws and that he did not know of societal laws. I.e. “that the duty of the prelinguistic individual was only to the prelinguistic law of nature.”

[5] Anne T. Quartararo, “The Perils of assimilation in Modern France: The Deaf Community, Social Status, and Educational Opportunity, 1815-1870,” Journal of Social History, vol.29, no.1 (Autumn 1995): 5-23; 5.

[6] Sophia Rosenfeld, “Deaf Men on Trial: Language and Deviancy in Late Eighteenth-Century France,” Eighteenth-Century Life vol.21, no.2 (1997): 157-175.