Sunday, January 26, 2014

Blog #1: Structural Violence in Gaskell's 'North and South'

In "Masters and Men," Gaskell employs dialogue as a formal device for critiquing the inequalities intrinsic to industrialism. Mr. Thornton's exchanges with Margaret suggest that the masters' perspective on class relations is marred by an incognizance of structural violence. Margaret's rejoinders establish a counter-position that underscores the continuity between master and worker on all planes of existence.

First, Mr. Thornton upholds a delusion of neatly separated working hours and non-working hours. He states, "'I choose to be the unquestioned and irresponsible master of my hands, during the hours that they labour for me. But those hours past, our relation ceases; and then comes in the same respect for their independence that I myself exact'" (114). Mr. Thornton hedges his position here, simultaneously indicating that he maintains a position of authority over his workers--as an "unquestioned and irresponsible master"--while also respecting them--he imparts "the same respect for their independence" that he requires during work. This statement represents a critical blind spot in Mr. Thornton's understanding of class relations. When he claims "those [working] hours past, our relation ceases," he indirectly affirms his inability to see how class inequality is created by socioeconomic structures.

These structural relationships are inherently violent. To quickly reference another source on this topic, Didier Fassin explains in "The Trace: Violence, Truth, and the Politics of the Body" that structural violence constitutes "the creeping inscription of inequality within bodies. Political violence tends to be denounced. Structural violence tends to be denied. The former is erased by the perpetrator...The latter is made invisible by the dominant but may be claimed by the oppressed" (294, emphasis mine). Fassin suggests that structural violence is a social phenomenon that takes shape in the form of "inequality within bodies." In the case of North and South, the workers experience this violence in the form of "clemming," a bodily pain directly connected with the material conditions of the mill/factory.

When Mr. Thornton suggests his relationship to his workers changes after working hours, he implicitly denies the fact that his position as a master affects any part of their livelihood. The claim "those hours past, our relation ceases" represents a denial of socioeconomic culpability. In other words, Mr. Thornton makes his complicity in his men's lives "invisible." He indirectly reinforces his critical blind spot when he tells Margaret, "'I must just take facts as I find them to-night, without trying to account for them; which, indeed, would make no difference in determining how to act as things stand--the facts must be granted'" (112) and "I agree with Miss Hale so far as to consider our people in the condition of children, while I deny that we, the masters, have anything to do with the making or keeping them so'" (110). These statements each represent Mr. Thornton's values as a master. Since he is the "perpetrator" of structural violence toward his workers, he has the prerogative to "just take facts" as he finds them, and to deny that masters "have anything to do with" the oppression and infantilization of workers. At this point in the narrative, Mr. Thornton articulates the position of the masters in terms of exceptionalism; since they don't experience the material effects of low wages in the form of bodily pain (clemming), they are able to deny that their position as masters has any repercussions for workers after the work day has ended. For the masters, the master/worker relationship does end. For workers, the relationship persists, pervading all aspects of social existence.

Gaskell underscores the reality of structural violence through dialogue, depicting Margaret as a foil to Mr. Thornton. Margaret argues that Mr. Thornton should not freely impose his views onto his workers, just because he is in a position of economic power (112). Her reason is, rather, that Mr. Thornton should refrain from doing this because of his shared humanity with his men. She states, "'you are a man, dealing with a set of men over whom you have, whether you reject the use of it or not, immense power, just because your lives and your welfare are so constantly and intimately interwoven. God has made us so that we must be mutually dependent" (112, emphasis mine). Margaret's comments challenge Mr. Thornton to see the inextricable connection he has with his men. In underscoring how the very life of the masters and workers is "constantly and intimately interwoven," Margaret advocates for seeing industrialism for what it is: a system of relations that boils down to supporting or destroying life itself. Therefore, when Margaret says "'The most proudly independent man depends on those around him for their insensible influence on his character--his life'" (112, emphasis mine), she espouses a humanitarian view of industrialism that affirms the shared commonality of "life" between master and worker.

This dialogue is usefully framed by the Northern Star article in a couple key ways. First, the form of the article suggests that social relations can change the consciousness of masters. This notion is supported by the fact that, by the end of the article, Robin has managed to change Mr. Smith's understanding of "combination" and the motivations the poor have for unionizing against injustice: Mr. Smith says, "'perhaps your information may be the means of originating that beginning [of change], even upon the old common'" (18). Secondly, the article actually advocates for Margaret's position by ascertaining the value of human life. Robin expresses a desire for a more humane set of socioeconomic relations when he says, "'my old head reels when I think of olden times, when folk were cared for, because they were worth summat'" (18). However, rather than present the value of human life in terms of an elusive nostalgia, the article actually asserts the real possibility of establishing favorable working conditions through well-reasoned dialogue.

2 comments:

  1. Wes,

    As always, I’m blown away by the attention to detail and the theoretical underpinnings of what you have to say. It seems to me that in the next 10 years or so, we’re going to be talking more and more about theories of violence that I wonder, as more of us wrestle with what it means to cause harm to someone in the 21st Century, whether it will grow the same weight as fields like Marxist criticism or Postcolonial criticism. I think you’re absolutely right to point to structural violence as occurring in the Milton strikes, and I think your example of starvation is especially helpful. Follow that a bit further, I wonder if Thornton doesn’t see this by the end and try to address this problem to the introduction of the dining hall, which probably somewhat contributes eventually to his loss of capital and status in Milton. As a theory, I think questions of structural (or epistemic or political) violence are very important to raise in texts, and I have made some similar observations before in other stories. However, I’m beginning to think that the question of one’s moral responsibility to violence should have some play in these considerations. We were talking recently about Simon Critchley, and I wonder if his ideas about anarchistic nonviolence might be important to notice in texts as well. How do those effected negatively by the political and economic structure of their time respond violently or nonviolently to their situation?

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  2. This analysis of the structural violence of the master-hand relationship, and the critique it suggests of Thornton's initial laissez-faire philosophy, is extremely astute. It should play a key part in our discussion on Tuesday.

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