Weekly Journal Entry: 10/26/09

The narrator in Henry Tufts’ tale is certainly adept in the arts of irony and sarcasm. Thus, this week I tried to look for moments of contraction in order to discover some of the mockeries and inconsistencies in the narrative. One such paradoxical moment is when Tufts expresses horror at what will happen to his body after he dies. A physician with a jovial countenance approaches Tufts and requests the rights to Tufts’ body for scientific purposes when he dies. Tufts reacts with dismay at the prospect of his body being used in a manner that he cannot control, even if he is dead: “Notwithstanding his easy introduction, the proposal struck me with horror ineffable, so that I repelled his suit with an asperity that prevented further solicitation on that behalf” (295). The paradox that I see in this occurrence is the fact that Tufts readily alters or invades the bodies of women. While he abhors anything done to his own body, he is quick to impregnate other women. In this third part of the narrative, with quick succession he spends the night with three different women at various inns, even jilting one in the process. His treatment of Abigail is quite customary—he ruins her body for any future marriage (because she is no longer a virgin and now has an illegitimate child). True, Abigail does marry someone else later in the narrative, but only after going through many hardships and ultimately being abandoned like Tufts’ other women. No wonder if Abigail follows him as a mistress, she has no other option because this criminal has altered her body. Whether or not this contradiction of the value of bodies is deliberate or not, it does illustrate the pervading double standard of early American society.

Certainly, Tufts engages in this double standard with increasing rapidity in this last part of his narrative; the various women he encounters soon become simply part of a long list of unidentified companions for a night. In a strange way, I see a connection between Tufts’ trysts with women and his brief description of “flash language.” Both are part of the lifestyle of a criminal, both are somewhat foreign to the American ideal of morality, and both are nakedly exposed in Tufts’ narrative. In describing flash language, Tufts notes that it is “partly English, and partly an arbitrary gibberish, which, when spoken, presents to such hearers, as are not initiated into its mysteries, a mere unintelligible jargon, but in the flash fraternity is, peculiarly, significant” (315). He follows this by providing the reader with a handy translation of flash words and phrases. In doing so, he threatens this “flash fraternity” by laying bare its mechanisms. By giving the reader a peek into this criminal dialogue, Tufts is weakening the criminals’ ability to communicate privately among themselves. In the same way, Tufts capitalizes on the women in his narrative, he exposes their sexual willingness (and gullibility) to the readers and thus further undermines the few traces of privacy these women hold. True, many are unnamed, but by putting their attitudes and responses in writing, Tufts is again using their bodies for his own satisfaction.

Of course, Tufts is not alone in using other people’s bodies; as Johnson describes in Chapter Five of The Early American Republic, enslaved populations were growing rapidly at the turn of the 18^th century. Tufts frequently interacts with slaves—while imprisoned on Castle Island, Tufts notes that the demographics of the prisoners consisted of “different kind of people, as well black as white and of divers nations and languages” (306). Yet, he still retains a master/overseer mentality, and his treatment of others is in line with the rulers of the nation. Johnson notes that “Thomas Jefferson, who had been shocked to see French women working in the fields, abandoned his concern for female delicacy when his own slaves were involved” (87). In this sense, Tufts is a true American, he actively participates in exploiting other people for his own purposes, whether in his day-to-day transactions or in his narrative. And, undoubtedly, he relishes this ability to take advantage of others. In fact, Tufts’ mastery over others, and his ingenious talent at getting people to trust him, especially women, is part of the overall narrative joke—just as Tufts’ neighbors and lovers continually believe that he is honest, we too as readers accept his tales with credibility. The narrator continues to laugh in our face.