Evelina: Neverland Nightmare

Francis Burney’s Evelina is subtitled: The History of a Young Lady’s Entrance into the World. Upon entering the world of society in London, Evelina is doubtless a young lady and, as Rose Marie Cutting points out, shows "an independence of judgement that reflects… intelligence, common sense, and the good principles" of her education. These characteristics, however, do not appear to develop throughout the novel. Evelina seems to be a character for the most part without growth. She begins the novel with shameless dependence upon her guardian Mr. Villars as she asks him to “decide for” her and proclaims herself “unable” to act independently or to judge what conduct she ought to pursue. She leans upon him as a “guide and director” throughout and even after falling in love with Lord Orville near the novel’s close still unquestioningly shuns her lover at the request of her guardian. Even in the last few days before her wedding is to take place, she promises to halt everything if Reverend Villars has “but the smallest objection.” One cannot doubt the similar dependence she will have upon Lord Orville after signing her final letter to Mr. Villars. It is this circular movement, as Susan Fraiman describes it, which moves her from Villars to Orville, from one director to another, and from one child-like status to the next. As the novel’s events finally culminate and leave Evelina in essentially the same place she started, the reader is left questioning whether she has indeed made a transformation from virtuous girl to virtuous woman or if she is only a girl adopted by a new father.

Viewing the situation from a modern standpoint, we might argue that a young woman must be independent in order to graduate from child to adult. Judged by these standards, Evelina could not make the transformation. In the eighteenth century, however, women were expected (and in most cases forced) to be dependent upon men. A virtuous woman, therefore, would be one who complied with society’s demand and readily accepted her dependence. In the eyes of eighteenth century society, Evelina did become a virtuous woman.

Kenneth Graham points out that the “two central virtues expected of ladies” were modesty and delicacy but that each contained “a series of double hooks.” The innocence required for delicacy meant a woman must be ignorant, and modesty required silence. Both modesty and delicacy, therefore, lead to vulnerability. Evelina is repeatedly thrown into situations where she becomes vulnerable due to her ignorance of society. Her inability to identify prostitutes, for example, throws her into their company at Marybone Gardens where she is then met by Lord Orville. Her association with these women not only puts her in danger physically but also subjects her virtue to speculation as it causes Orville to question her ethics. It is in this way that the traits meant to increase her virtue often come dangerously close to sacrificing it.

Eighteenth century conduct books further support the ideology that a virtuous woman ought to be dependent upon and even under the control of men. John Gregory, for example, in A Father’s Legacy to his Daughters says that even if a woman has any learning, she ought to “keep it a profound secret especially from men who generally look with a jealous and malignant eye on a woman of cultivated understanding." The concept that a woman should have to hide her intelligence simply to make men feel better about themselves shows clearly how much women were at the mercy of men’s opinions. Fraiman puts it bluntly stating that “a woman’s position essentially depends on whether men call her madonna or whore.” Throughout the novel, Evelina is constantly seeking male approval. With each letter to Reverend Villars, she strives to be morally upright in his eyes, continually asking his opinion and always submitting to his will. She also endeavors to gain acceptance from the father who abandoned her and her mother without showing resentment toward him for either crime. She speaks only of paternal warmth toward this man who defiled her mother’s name but could solidify her own. Finally she is constantly battling to be seen as socially correct in Lord Orville’s eyes despite the frequent blunders her ignorance causes. His view of her is clearly essential to her future social status as a simple proposal will change the way other men see her for the rest of her life. Evelina, like most other women of her time, is completely at the mercy of man’s opinion of her. Because she is a virtuous woman, however, she accepts this truth without question.

Throughout Evelina, we see what little change is made from virtuous girl to virtuous woman. A woman is still required to be ignorant, she is still vulnerable, and she remains at the mercy of men. Marriage, which she sees as a mark of womanhood, will really only lead to a child-like dependency. This circular movement which women of Evelina's time period and social status had to make forced them to have forever the status of children—trapped forever in a Neverland they did not choose and could not escape from, a Neverland Nightmare.

The Story of Ferdinand

Munro Leaf’s The Story of Ferdinand was published in 1936 and has never gone out of print since. Just two years later, Disney released the film Ferdinand the Bull which won an Academy Award for Best Short Subject and has likewise been popular over its seventy year life. The children’s book layers simple text with deep imagery to create a complex work which is open to a range of potential meanings and is valuable to children and adults universally. The unlikely hero is a bull who appears to be free of concerns but is in reality responsible for effectively bearing the burden of the profound lessons Leaf and illustrator Lawson place upon him.

The story introduces a young bull who, unlike his peers, prefers to sit “just quietly and smell the flowers” rather than to fight. He is forced into the bullfighting arena in Madrid, however, when he has the unfortunate luck of sitting on a bumblebee in front of a group of men who mistake his pain for ferocity. When the fight begins, he sits down and smells the flowers in the ladies’ hair. Despite the Matador’s attacks, Ferdinand refuses to fight and be fierce and is eventually taken home where “he is very happy” (Leaf, 67).

“Artists for whom the Great War was a part of childhood or adolescence and who produced picture books in the late twenties and thirties were inevitably working with themes of security, internationalism, and the predicament of being a child in the midst of adult danger" (Galbraith, 337). Munro Leaf was born in 1905 and watched the War to End All Wars through a child's eyes. Viewing the horrors of the senseless death brought about by trench warfare must have had a powerful influence upon his notions of war and violence. He was said to have written The Story of Ferdinand in forty minutes—evidence of its being a work from the heart. Likewise, illustrator Robert Lawson was in his early twenties when the war began and so saw an even greater amount of the violence as it was occurring—a fact reflected in the dark and ominous elements he adds to the story. Some critics censure Ferdinand for living in a fantasy world of naiveté rather than growing up and understanding the troubles of the society surrounding him (Steig, pg 118). However, the author and illustrator each had to find ways to cope at a very young age with the reality that men do terrible things to each other and to do so during a time when adults demanded that children put aside their needs and desires to accommodate their own (Galbraith, 340). Children know nothing of war or of death and have no way of coping with them. It is not surprising, therefore, that two men who grew up surrounded by conflict they could do nothing about would write a story about peace which may seem impractical or naïve to those who have not experienced the hell that war brings. It is feasible that The Story of Ferdinand is a depiction of Leaf and Lawson’s hope that it could be possible to live in peace simply by standing against violence. In addition, the reader must be mindful of the fact that “social norms as well as protective concern for what a child can bear” insist that picture books must be “optimistic, light-hearted, and just” making it impossible to relate the truths of childhood trauma in an open form (Galbraith, p338). It is, therefore, necessary to present the concepts of war in terms of metaphors which can be more easily born by children but which still hold the important messages that will be imparted upon both children and their parents. It is in this way that the burden of relating these lessons falls upon young Ferdinand.

Bullfighting dates back to ancient Rome but gained most of its current traditions on the Iberian Peninsula. It is seen as an art form comparable to a symphony or ballet and as an integral part of Spanish tradition and pride (McCormick, 110). When the bull enters the ring, the Banderilleros and Matador (which literally means “killer”) taunt him to show his ferocity. Next the Picadors ride in on horseback and stab the bull with spears between the shoulders to weaken his neck muscles so that the Matador can make the final thrust with his sword into the bull’s heart or aorta. If the crowd believes the Matador performed well, he is awarded with the bull’s ear or tail (which may be removed while the bull is still conscious). Very rarely, if the crowd believes the bull has fought bravely, they may appeal for him to be sent back to the ranch and used for breeding. For the great majority, however, death is the ultimate finale to their fighting debuted (Anderson). The breeds of bull used in bull fights are bred for the fight and do not produce good meat (McCormick, 112). They are, therefore, born to die or at best to father children who will be killed in the arena.

Knowing the fate of bulls in Spain, one begins to understand better the danger Ferdinand and his peers are in. The Story of Ferdinand thus becomes not only a statement promoting peace but also a plea against running blindly to death as the other bulls do. Leaf and Lawson could relate to this warning on a personal level as they doubtless saw young men believing they were going to be heroes sent to be killed in the absurd and horrific trench warfare. The bulls in this story, likewise, are bred to be slaughtered in the arena and run happily to it, eager to impress the reapers who come to transport them to their graves (Steig, pg 120).

Though Leaf never mentions death, it plays a strong role in the story through the reader’s knowledge of what it means to be a bull in Spain and through Robert Lawson’s illustrations. The first picture in which Ferdinand is an adult bull, he is standing in front of a tree which has lines on it marking his growth throughout his two years of life. There is little room for further growth, however, as the tree—like the life of a bull in Spain—has been cut drastically short with a jagged and painful break. Perched upon the broken tree is a large vulture waiting contentedly (Steig, 120). When death is so certain, even the vultures are willing to stand and wait for what appears to be a healthy bull. Interestingly, the Disney film (which follows most of the illustrations closely in terms of structure) replaces this imagery with a healthy growing tree devoid of vultures or any other omen to caution the bulls and the audience about what is coming. The next page depicts the bulls studying an advertisement for the bull fight in Madrid. In this drawing two vultures are sitting on the nearby rooftop waiting for death to take the naïve fighters (Steig, 120). Here again, Disney chooses to remove the ominous birds and posts the sign upon a growing healthy tree with no warning in sight. In the scene in which Ferdinand is being transported to the fight, the ill-omened vulture is again present this time perched upon the sign “To Madrid” while Ferdinand keeps his face turned toward home (Steig, 120). In this instance, the film follows the illustration rather scrupulously including the vulture and Ferdinand’s position of silent resistance. It is interesting that the film chooses to avoid any premonition until Ferdinand is on the way to Madrid. Perhaps this decision is the result of a choice to target the film toward a younger audience and therefore not to burden them with a great amount of death (a similarity seen in Disney’s adaptation of Bambi). The next page in which fans are parading through Madrid likewise features two vultures upon a rooftop. The vultures know death is extremely close when Ferdinand steps into the arena, so four line up on the edge of the stadium walls (Steig, 120). The film includes no vultures in Madrid though it is extremely similar to the pictures in most other ways.

Ferdinand is also a statement of the verity that man chooses his own destiny regardless of what obstacles fate places in front of him. The simple fact that he is a bull born in Spain is a sign of impending death. Furthermore, despite his choice to avoid the bullfight he sits on a bumblebee and runs around in pain “as if he were crazy” causing him to have to face the Matador anyway (Leaf, 36). It would seem that Ferdinand’s death is not only predestined but further inescapable as living a life antithetical to that of a fighter does nothing to keep him from the arena. Many people would give up at this point believing fate all-powerful, “but not Ferdinand” (Leaf, 6). Though fate would assign to him the broken off tree topped with a vulture, Ferdinand chooses to surround himself with flowers and the fertile cork tree. Lawson’s illustrations, in addition to addressing death’s strong role, applaud the hero for the stands he takes against violence and against conforming to others’ perceptions of what one should be. When the other bulls are trying to look fierce so the men in funny hats will pick them, Ferdinand walks away followed by a trail of butterflies. Again, as Ferdinand rides home from the city in the cart, he is surrounded by small songbirds (quite a contrast to the foreboding vulture who greeted him on his way in). Ferdinand has made a decision to surround himself with the beauties of life, and in support of his peaceful and individual choice—despite fate’s strong offense—Lawson further surrounds him with images of vitality. Destiny has plans for death, but Ferdinand chooses his own path of life.

Ferdinand is an important hero not only for children but for adults as well as he is a model of individualism. From childhood, he is clearly different from the other bulls but does not mind. He prefers being alone and happy to being surrounded by those he does not understand. Despite what Spanish society tells him a bull should be, he refuses to be anything but himself. His mother worries about him and the bullfighters tell him he is not behaving as a bull should, but even in front of a crowd of innumerable faces as he is being taunted, he refuses to be fierce and fight as other bulls do. He refuses to be anything but himself. In the end, it is being himself that saves his life. Had he gone along with the ferocious role he was expected to perform, he would have died in the arena. This theme of individualism ties in with that of isolation not only physically but mentally. The ability to not only be oneself but to also think for oneself is a powerful defense against the deadly ignorance of mob mentality. As Munro Leaf stated, Ferdinand is “a happy ending story about being yourself.”

Ferdinand is, further, a symbol of enduring peace even when surrounded by conflict. He simply removes himself from dangerous situations without worrying about being considered strange or different. He is never interested in fighting as is expected to be his nature. He is content with a life of solitude as associating with his fighting peers would place him in the danger which their conflict invites. Like Bambi, Ferdinand’s survival relies on living a solitary life with nature his only companion. Unlike Bambi, however, the reader is left to believe that Ferdinand can live in a world free from danger or pain if he remains virtuous and peaceful. Ferdinand’s story has been criticized because though it promotes peace, it gives no realistic form of achieving it (Butler, p135). Perhaps, however, The Story of Ferdinand is in itself a means for achieving peace. Lasting peace will only exist if it is taught to and practiced by all. Teaching nonviolence to our children through books like Ferdinand is the first step to achieving a more peaceful world.

The Story of Ferdinand was published in January 1936—nine months prior to the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War. In this time period, the tensions which would pull the world into its second great war were mounting making it difficult for this powerful children’s book to be accepted in all parts of the world. It was banned in Spain where it was seen as pacifist literature by many of General Francisco Franco’s supporters. The book was burned in Nazi Germany (which supported General Franco’s movement) as being anti-Fascist propaganda. It was one of the few non-Communist books promoted in Soviet-occupied Poland. Even in the United States the book was criticized for being alternately pro-Fascist and pro-Communist (Nel, 277). The controversy this short children’s book sparked is evidence of its effectiveness in stating powerful views.

Despite the resistance in some areas of the world, The Story of Ferdinand has also had a great deal of success. It has been translated into sixty languages and has never gone out of print since its publication. The United States for the most part seems to have forgotten prior complaints regarding the book’s intent as Ferdinand is now addressed with much nostalgia and affection in comments on internet shopping websites and children’s literature blogs. The Walt Disney film adaptation of the book won a 1938 Academy Award and is shown every year on Christmas Eve in Sweden. It has come to be known as one of Disney’s greatest short films. (Nel, 275). The story's success is partly due to the "themes of growth, separation, and individuation with a subtlety that allows the books to remain open … with a range of potential meanings" (Steig, pg 118)

Ferdinand’s story remains culturally beneficial in the United States today because its themes are so transitional. The theme of peace as a first choice in any conflict is a lesson important to children and adults both on personal and global levels. Ferdinand wonderfully relates the lesson that peace can lead to happiness and that living a life of peace even in a world of danger and anger is beneficial to the individual. The importance of thinking for oneself rather than accepting the values and mindset of the mob is also especially important for youth today as they are growing up in an increasingly superficial society. If one does not take it upon himself to find meaning and depth, he is likely to live a fundamentally pointless life. This concept goes along with that of not walking blindly into danger which is much more likely to happen to those who refuse to think and reason for themselves. Leaf once said "Early on in my writing career I realized that if one found some truths worth telling they should be told to the young in terms that were understandable to them.” The Story of Ferdinand is a flawless illustration of that point as its simple, understandable text and detailed and potent drawings portray some of the most powerful messages our society could hear—messages which have remained important for seventy-four years and which Ferdinand has happily born though they hold immeasurable weight.

Alyssa Marin

My sister died September 10, 2010. She was eighteen years old. It is horrific the way life just goes on. The light is gone from the world, but it does not care. It continues to turn, time continues to pass without her here. How can I move forward without you?