Where are the vrais dévots and are they véritables gens de bien? Eloquent slippage in the Tartuffe controversy

The famous controversy provoked by Molière’s Tartuffe (1664–1669) is usually read in terms of vrais and faux dévots and thought to turn on the question of sincerity versus hypocrisy. Here the vrai-faux dichotomy is challenged and a third term introduced in the form of the véritable homme de bien of Molière’s Preface to the published edition of the play. In the slippage between a vrai dévot and a véritable homme de bien (considered by most critics to be synonymous), I argue, lies a value-judgment and the suggestion of an alternative, more secular worldview that persisted even in the 1669 version of the play. The scandal of Tartuffe thus lies less with the threat of religious hypocrisy and more with the possibility that true morality could be found outside the Church.PostprintPeer reviewe

The politics of opera under Louis XIV : dissident descendants in the third reign

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Failed seductions and the female spectator : pleasure and polemic in the Lettre sur la comédie de l’Imposteur

ISBN: 9780300221633.The anonymous author of the Lettre Lettre sur la comédie de l’Imposteur (1667) makes the extraordinary claim that Molière’s Tartuffe, ou l’hypocrite, now renamed Panulphe, ou l’Imposteur, offers a powerful attack on, and a reliable inoculation against galanterie solide. The argument turns on an intriguing theory of ridicule whereby the effect of seeing in performance Panulphe-Tartuffe’s attempted seduction of La Dame-Elmire is so powerful that the extreme sense of ridicule it engenders among the theatre audience is indelible and will inevitably be called to mind in any similar off-stage encounters. The play, it is argued, is thus endowed with a significant moral function that can only benefit the French nation currently in the sway of a tide of sexual immorality. The argument put forward is intriguing, yet slippery in its moral ambiguity and sometimes obfuscatory logic. Here I unpick these claims, paying particular attention to the emphasis placed on the response of the female spectator. I also speculate on the author’s purpose in writing this portion of a letter in which different types of pleasure--rhetorical, aesthetic and moral, as well as the very pleasure of polemic--are put into the service of a polemic that extends far beyond the immediate concerns of the Tartuffe controversyPostprintPeer reviewe

From tragic hero to creole businesswoman : Voltaire’s Sémiramis and her parodies in 18th-century France and Saint-Domingue

Written accounts of the legendary Assyrian queen of Babylon, Semiramis (or Sammuramat) vary considerably in their evaluation of her accomplishments and especially of her personal morality and motives. At the heart of the debate sits the question of Semiramis’s relationship with her husband, Ninus, and their son, Ninyas. For some authors, as Asher-Greve has shown, Semiramis was an exemplary ruler; for others, she was above all a lustful adulterer and guilty of incest. This chapter begins with a presentation and exploration of the most famous French account of Semiramis in the shape of Voltaire’s five-act tragedy, Sémiramis, first performed at the Comédie-Française in 1748. This provides a point of reference for an examination of a series of theatrical parodies of Voltaire’s work that have not -- until now -- formed part of the discussion regarding diverging portrayals of the legendary queen. The two extant parodies published in France are Bidault de Montigny’s Sémiramis tragédie en cinq actes (published in 1749 as La Petite Sémiramis) and Persiflés, by Nicolas Ragot de Grandval. The scope of the investigation is widened further with an account of the Creole parody called Harpiminis, ou la Passagère du Port-Margot, of which only traces remain, that was set in the French Caribbean colony of Saint-Domingue (now Haiti) and performed there at least twice in 1772 and 1780. Voltaire’s Semiramis is seen to be guilty of having murdered her husband and of being attracted to the man she later learns is her own son, but her guilt is mitigated both by her remorse and by her bravery when attempting to save her son’s life. She nobly accepts her fate and dies with her reputation largely intact, thereby meeting audience expectations regarding the tragic hero(ine). By contrast, Montigny’s Semiramis is a comic figure with no grandeur or dignity and no tragic flaws; Grandval’s Semiramis is frankly farcical and can be identified with her model by name only. In the absence of the text of the Creole parody, we can only make informed guesses regarding its precise nature, but we know from the play’s subtitles that the Semiramis figure, now named Harpiminis, is not a queen but a dock worker of some kind. She may have spoken Creole and she may have been identified as black or of mixed racial origins. The chapter demonstrates that, alongside the more familiar accounts of Semiramis, there sat comical accounts that reached a wide audience and which provide another welcome dimension to the varied portrayals of the Assyrian queen.Postprin

The religious climate

Seventeenth-century France was not a place of religious tolerance or inclusion. Jewish people were permitted to settle, under certain restrictions, in parts of the country, and France enjoyed trading and diplomatic relations with, notably, the Ottoman Turks. But both Judaism and Islam were regarded with great suspicion in a country that claimed to base its unity on having one faith, one law and one king. For this reason, the French Protestant (or Huguenot) community came under increasing levels of persecution in Molière’s lifetime. Even within the Catholic Church, there was considerable tension. Louis XIV’s authority was threatened by that of the Pope in Rome and, in France, by the Jansenists, who did not recognize the King’s right to pronounce on matters of individual conscience. More generally, France was steeped in a wider conflict between those who believed that religion should guide all areas of daily life (the dévots) and those who adopted a more relaxed view (the mondains). Although there is no reason to think that Louis XIV objected to Molière’s portrayal of religion and religious hypocrisy in his famous comedy Tartuffe (1664–9), the play thus became caught up in a much broader struggle for religious and political authority.Postprin

Musique et société dans les Caraïbes françaises, 1750–1810 : Centre d’études supérieures de la Renaissance, Tours, 5–7 May 2022

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Making "slave ownership" visible in the archival catalogue : findings from a pilot project

This article outlines a pilot project aimed at making ‘slave ownership’ more visible in archival catalogues. The project began with the premise that it is incumbent upon academic communities and record-keepers to make known Britain’s slaving past and the ongoing legacies of that past as part of a drive to dismantle systemic (and often invisible) racism across the sector. Specifically, it explored different ways of cross-referencing the Legacies of British Slave-ownership database (https://www.ucl.ac.uk/lbs//) with the Special Collections catalogue at the University of St Andrews with a view to updating the information provided in the latter. Six methods of identifying matches were trialled, each of which is presented and reflected upon here. Although some methods produced more matches than others, the collective results point towards the need for a multifaceted approach. Our findings also raise important questions about types of involvement in enslavement (direct/indirect), how different levels of certainty regarding the identity of certain individuals might be indicated in the record, and how collection-level and item-level descriptions might be updated. The project also highlights how our own assumptions about who is — and is not — likely to have ‘owned’ enslaved people can influence our very methods for uncovering those people.Publisher PDFPeer reviewe

Pale imitations : white performances of slave dance in the public theatres of pre-revolutionary Saint-Domingue

This article offers an original and nuanced contribution to the larger discussion of dance in the colonial Caribbean. Its focus is on the largely neglected phenomenon of the colonial imitator, and specifically on white imitations of local slave dances in the public theatres of Saint-Domingue in the 1770s and 1780s. Colonial accounts of different types of slave dance (calenda, chica and vodou) are examined as an important point of reference for the subsequent analysis of theatrical performances of what were heralded as slave dances. The majority of these formed part of the performance of a local Créole-language work called Jeannot et Thérèse, set explicitly in Saint-Domingue and featuring slave characters. Despite a number of claims to verisimilitude in relation to these dances, it is clear that they bore little resemblance to their supposed models and that what was presented was, from the colonial perspective, a less threatening, more Europeanized form of slave dance. Most revealing of all is the fact that white dancers in the theatre appear never to have imitated vodou dances, which were bound up with spirit possession, even in a work that does allude to local vodou practices. Rumours had no doubt spread of the involuntary imitations that some colonials had experienced when spying on vodou rituals in secret. This avoidance of vodou dance – and the careful negotiation of a pseudo-vodou ritual in the body of the work – is further evidence of a genuine fear – and, crucially, recognition – of the potency of vodou practices even before the Haitian revolution.PostprintPeer reviewe

Performing the racial scale : from colonial Saint-Domingue to contemporary Hollywood

This piece explores the notion of the racial scale in two performance contexts: first, in the theatres of the French Caribbean colony of Saint-Domingue in the eighteenth century, and second, in twenty-first-century Hollywood. The racial scale as conceived by the colonials in Saint-Domingue was a means of establishing and upholding a social hierarchy that was built on the dominance of white European master over the black African slave, but which had also to accommodate the ever-increasing numbers of free people of colour. One free woman of colour named Minette challenged the whiteness of the colonial stage by appearing in solo roles in a number of productions in Port-au-Prince throughout the 1780s. Her ability to move up the racial scale onstage is significant, though ultimately limited. Moving into the modern era, contemporary casting practices in Hollywood are examined in relation to a modern perception of the racial scale, often known as colourism. The controversy caused by the casting of Zoe Saldana as Nina Simone in a recent biopic reveals the complex politics of casting even ‘black’ actors in ‘black’ roles as perceptions of different shades of colour persist across different social groups.PostprintPeer reviewe

Iphigénie en Haïti : performing Gluck's Paris operas in the French colonial Caribbean

Gluck has been hailed as the ‘first truly international opera composer’, but his internationalism is always understood in strictly European terms. This article seeks to expand our understanding of Gluck's international scope beyond Europe and specifically into the French colonial Caribbean. Saint-Domingue (now Haiti) enjoyed the most vibrant theatrical tradition of the entire Caribbean in the eighteenth century, and three of Gluck's Paris operas that had premiered in the 1770s were given there in the 1780s. Performances of these works are examined in turn, with an emphasis on performance practices in the context of local conditions, both social and practical. Gluck's operas are seen to have reached a mixed, though segregated, audience that incorporated some free people of colour, including a small number of black people, and the first documented performance of a singer of colour in a Gluck opera is uncovered. Our understanding of Gluck's reach, reception and status is thus broadened and deepened in some significant ways, and some new areas of research are opened up.PostprintPeer reviewe