2007 Natasha Hurley ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

309 Pages·2007·1.37 MB·English

©2007

Natasha Hurley

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
GETTING AROUND: CIRCULATION AND THE RISE OF THE GAY AND
LESBIAN NOVEL
by
NATASHA HURLEY
A Dissertation submitted to the
Graduate School-New Brunswick
Rutgers, The State University of New Jersey
in partial fulfillment of the requirements
for the degree of
Doctor of Philosophy
Graduate Program in
Literatures in English
written under the direction of
PROFESSOR MICHAEL WARNER
and approved by
____Michael McKeon______
_____Meredith McGill______
_____Eric Savoy__________

New Brunswick, New Jersey
October, 2007
ABSTRACT OF THE DISSERTATION
By NATASHA HURLEY

Dissertation Director:
Michael Warner

My dissertation reorients the prevailing understanding that the gay and lesbian
novel came into view in response to the emergence of homosexuality as a concept. I
argue that the gay and lesbian novel has a much longer history, which I trace by
considering the literary circulation of homosexual types—types that through course of the
nineteenth century accrete more and more language to themselves while also generating
new abstract terms to describe same-sex sexual sociability. Eighteenth-century literature
was sparsely populated by minor characters or fleeting episodes of desire expressed
between members of the same sex. By the end of the nineteenth century, minor
characters evolve into protagonists and their episodic encounters are either multiplied or
developed into novel-length narratives with the texture of entire worlds. “Getting
Around” thus takes as its focus the development not just of queer characters or subjects,
but of queer protagonists and complete narrative worlds in which those protagonists make
sense.
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My chapters focus both on the ways authors respond to the language of sexual
types in other texts and on the ways other texts respond to them as they continue to
circulate. My first chapter argues that Herman Melville’s Typee has gradually acquired
its status as a queer text: in the ways Melville engages with sexuality in missionary
writings and in the way other writers engage with sexuality in Typee. This influence can
be seen fully in Charles Warren Stoddard’s writing, which I explore in Chapter Two.
Stoddard’s depictions of sexual sociability between men in the South Seas respond
directly to Melville’s and are, in turn, nurtured by Stoddard’s wide circuits of literary and
social circulation. My third chapter charts the circulation of female sexual types, tracing
the overlapping, and mutually constituting, relationships between old maids and lesbians
that are central to the social worlds depicted by Sarah Orne Jewett and Henry James. My
final chapter turns fully to James’s The Bostonians. In the space of one novel, I argue,
James dramatizes the processes of sexual type production and social circulation that I
have been documenting in American literature throughout the nineteenth century.

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Acknowledgements
Getting Around does not just describe, but owes its very existence to, circulation.
I have had the good fortune to move about the world among many amazing individuals,
communities of scholars, and caring friends—all of whom have nourished my life and
work by allowing me to circulate within and between them. Without them, this
dissertation might never have come to fruition.
Several people have more than earned their places at the top of this list for their
unflagging support and encouragement—and for believing I could finish at the times
when I was sure I could not. Barbara Markovits has steered me through many a dark
night of the soul with her combination of great wisdom and pragmatism. And every
graduate program in the world should be so lucky as to have a Cheryl Robinson, that
perfect combination of kindness and shrewdness, who always knows how to save the day
(and, when necessary, the circus). More than anyone, however, Susanne Luhmann has
been there every day, with boa and without, making life brighter and more airy. Smart,
tender, and an amazing reader of words and people, she is my best friend and the joy of
my life.
As my very first intellectual community, my family in Newfoundland taught me
the values of having a rich life of the mind as well as a lively household. My parents,
Nick and Sylvia Hurley, saw to it that there was a steady supply of books in the house
and made me believe I could do and be anything. My siblings—Andrea, Paul, and
Kenneth—showed me how it is that a small group of people can develop a shared
language by appropriating the soundbites of others, a practice we share to this day. My
grandmothers, family matriarchs Mary Hall and Rose Hurley, furnished us with many of
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those soundbites and stories and heaped us with stern—but also soft—love. My uncles—
Wayne, Gervase, Eugene, and David—encouraged us relentlessly (and sometimes
deviously). I remain convinced that the culture of dinner table debate that defines many
Newfoundland families is one of the reasons I still love a good intense discussion.
Today, our family has scattered to and multiplied within points beyond the small town of
North River. But its collective love of words, books, good food, and drink have been
instrumental to the production of these pages.
In more direct ways, the people I met at Mount St. Vincent University in Halifax,
inspired me specifically to a PhD in literary studies. Rosemarie Sampson first showed me
what the Mount had to offer, while Martha Westwater saw to it that I chose to study
English over Math or French. But Steven Bruhm, Peter Schwenger, Rhoda Zuk, and
Chris Ferns made the study of literature the most exciting thing I could imagine. They
have become more than professorial idols: they have been incredible friends and
colleagues, without whom I cannot imagine having arrived at this point in my life.
Steven, in particular, has been an exceptional advisor, collaborator, and supporter. I owe
to him a bigger debt of gratitude than words can say.
More generally, my time as both student and lecturer at MSVU, enabled me to
develop relationships with people who continue to be my closest allies and comrades. I
am deeply grateful to Adele Poirier for hanging out with me in the turret and for many a
Christmas-tree caper; to Goran Stanivukovic for hiring me and for our years-long shared
fascination with an Adam- Phillips-style analysis of the world; to Teresa Heffernan (also
for hiring me) and for many dinners and nights on the futon in Toronto; to Shawn Miner
for longs walks on the beach and too many trips in the U-Haul; to Bill Adams for all the
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late-night drinks and debates; and to (the sadly late) Emily Givner, the memory of whose
passion for books, writing, and cheesecake, I hold near and dear to my heart.
My brief year of MA study at the University of Western Ontario was also
formative for my academic development. Here, in the classes particularly of Tilottama
Rajan and Elizabeth Harvey, I immersed myself fully in heady climes of theory. I
benefited from their seemingly endless patience (as I encountered a steep learning curve)
and, later, from their excellent advice as I chose a graduate school for my doctoral work.
I carry with me several lasting friendships from my time at Western: with Shelley Hulan
(my Congress colleague), with Theresa Smalec, and, above all, with Edie Snook—a
friend for all the crunch-times, academic and not.
I carried the influences of all of these people and places with me to (and from)
New Brunswick, NJ, where I embarked on a doctoral roller coaster ride at Rutgers
University. I tip my hat to a significant committee of people who enabled me to come
out on top, especially after my hiatus from the program halfway through. As graduate
director, Myra Jehlen single-handedly facilitated my return to Rutgers by restoring
funding I thought I had forfeited. She also softened my return landing by inviting me
into her dissertation writing group, where I was exposed to and encouraged by her
unparalleled close reading skills. That learning was top of mind in every quotation
analysis in this document. Michael McKeon also enthusiastically welcomed my return
and, throughout the writing of my dissertation, seemed at every turn to surpass his own
reputation as a paragon of academic knowledge and integrity. I could not have triumphed
without him. Meredith McGill, in her roles as graduate director and third reader, always
came through with timely and pragmatic advice to smooth my way. Above all, I have
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Michael Warner to thank for supervising my dissertation work from start to finish. His
quick mind, uncompromising intellectual standards, and graceful writing allowed me to
see what academic writing can be, at its best. I have come away from my entire
experience at Rutgers with a solid sense of the kind of intellectual I want to become—and
a clear outline of the standards I hope to establish for myself.
A long list of Rutgers friends also supported me, fed me, and read my work.
Particular thanks are due Mary Jo Watts, Sara Warner, Carla MacDougall, Laurie
Marhoefer, Terri Geller, Danielle Bobker, Sina Queyras, Jeff Scraba, Luis Iglesias, Jenny
Worley, Jane Elliot.
One of the best things about being at Rutgers was the way the program facilitated
my going to other places while I was still connected to New Jersey. Through a Mellon
Fellowship, I was able to do archival research at the University of California (Berkeley)
and at the American Antiquarian Society in Worcester. And, as I was about halfway
through my dissertation, I was lucky to have had the most enlivening intellectual
experience of my career thus far funded by another Mellon grant when I got to participate
in the School of Criticism and Theory at Cornell University in 2005. SCT restored my
intellectual intensity at a time when I thought I had spent it all, energizing me for the final
push toward the end of doctoral degree. Sepp Gumbrecht led an amazing seminar on the
Production of Presence, and became one of the many fine friends who all made SCT a
fun and challenging place to be.
I am also extremely grateful to the people I met at in Sudbury, Ontario, which
became my home away from home while I wrote my dissertation. Stephen Andrews and
Thorneloe University supplied me with office space, library facilities, and part-time
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teaching work. Ian McLennan hosted many a Friday night dinners and allowed us ready
use of his car. Andrea Levan, Diana Coholic, Patrice Mihilewski, Kate Tilliczek, Ron
Srigley, and Gary Kinsman, all made for engaging interlocutors and great playmates.
During my final writing year, I had the good fortune to land a one-year Visiting
Assistant Professorship at Macalester College. The year I spent in the Twin Cities was
one of my happiest and most productive. For this, I thank, first of all, Steve Burt for
persuading me to take the job. I also wanted to thank my colleagues, my fabulous
students and the RAUCOUS writing group at Macalester. What made my year in
Minneapolis so memorable, however, was having in my life Diane Brown, Amy
diGennaro, Chris Willcox, Jasper DiGennaro-Wilcox, and Emmett DiGennaro-Wilcox.
It’s amazing to me how one short year can produce family-like bonds. Sunday work
dates with Diane enabled me, finally, to finish writing, and our Saturday walks allowed
me to realize how connected buns are to Happy-ness. In Jasper, I was reminded of what
a powerful thing thinking is in a small person with a big personality, while in Emmett I
marveled at the human capacity for connection. For Amy and Chris, I have but one
phrase: perfect square. And one question: when will we see you again?
In so many ways, these pages have been produced because of the ways, to borrow
a phrase from the Be-Good Tanyas, “you pass through places and places pass through
you. You carry them with you on the soles of your traveling shoes.” I suppose, to mix
metaphors beyond their capacity, I carry all these people and places with me on the soles
of my sentences. From North River to Halifax, London, New Jersey, New York, and
Minneapolis—my sentences have all benefited from the vibrant cultural and intellectual
energy that is the by-product of circulation itself. I have been very fortunate that the
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institutions who have funded my research—the Social Science and Humanities Research
Council of Canada, Rutgers University, and the Mellon Foundation—have all seen merit
and value in creating the conditions under which I have been able to thrive within and
across these spaces of ideas.

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