This post examines Lydia Very’s Robinson Crusoe, a toy book created in 1864. I will begin this discussion with a brief description of the object. After doing so, I will attempt to contextualize it by comparing it to the original Crusoe written by Defoe. Finally, I will provide an argument for the significance of Very’s Crusoe to the histories of race and gender. In short, I will argue that in omitting racist and hyper-masculine themes from her adaptation, Very takes a stand against such ideas.
At first glance, it is readily apparent that Very’s book is old. This is evidenced by wear in the bottom left corner as well as the dirt that has gathered on the exposed pages (See Figure 1, Figure 2, & Figure 3). That being said, the object is in excellent condition for its age. The illustrations, which are on every page of the book, have not faded nor has the text itself (See Figure 4).
Beyond the obvious descriptive elements of the book, there are others features which give clues as to its intended use, and significance. For example, the bizarre curl of the ‘C’ in Crusoe as well as the etched font, in a rich red hue, are almost comic like (See Figure 5). Perhaps this was a deliberate attempt to draw in a young child. One who would otherwise take little interest in a ‘book.’ Validating this is the meter in which the verse-adaptation is written. It consistently shifts from unstressed to stressed and ends with the following verse, “Obey thy parents, that thy days may long be in the land” (See Figure 6).[1] This, along with the slight imperfections I observed, leads me to argue this object is meant to be interacted with and read by children instead of being pondered over behind a glass case.
This position is made more clear when considering Very’s altered casting of Crusoe as well as her altered morale of the story. Crusoe was originally a creation of European Enlightenment thinking.[2] He is cast as a white European, who is shipwrecked on an island. There, he must be simultaneously self-reliant, as shown by his foraging, killing, and shelter-building, and trust in the Christian God to save him.[3] Moreover, fitting with Enlightenment ideas about racial hierarchy, Crusoe is articulated as a savior, killing cannibalistic savages in order to save an indigenous person only to turn and make him his servant and selectively teach him his own language. The novel ends in triumph for Crusoe’s character and indeed, the European enlightenment and colonialist establishment. He accrues wealth not from his own labor on the island, but rather, from his slaves on plantations in Brazil. When we last read of Crusoe, he ventures on further expeditions, wherein he, no doubt, will take more servants and spread European, Christian ideas.
Very perhaps purposefully, omits Defoe’s blatantly racist and colonialist themes in order to deliver an entirely different message. Instead of casting Crusoe as a young adult, she casts him as a child. And instead of ending the adaptation in a manner consistent with the original novel in which Crusoe leaves the island and sees fame and wealth, she chose to see Crusoe return to England, “punished for the reckless deed / [h]e thoughtlessly had done… [f]forgotten and unknown.”[4] Very does not articulate Crusoe as a self-reliant man, adept at using a gun and blade in order to articulate Enlightenment propaganda, as Defoe does. Rather, for her, the details of what Crusoe does on the island are merely incidental to the overarching message. Crusoe should not have disobeyed his parents, leaving without their permission.
Serving as a public-school teacher from the age of eighteen, Very was a firm advocate of good virtues.[5] Therefore, it is likely that, in addition to her classroom instruction, she used art as a medium to spread such a message. This is one way her adaptation is significant.
Though perhaps more significant for looking at the construction of race and gender, is what Very omitted from the original text. Gone are Defoe’s European Enlightenment ideas of racial hierarchy and colonialism; notions which propagate a message of white superiority. In addition, gone is an emphasis on ideas of hyper-masculinity—being able to wield an axe or shoot a gun. Very quite literally rewrites a historically significant novel and in doing so, challenges its questionable assumptions and premises. And that is precisely why it is significant. Rather than perpetuating such ideas, Very takes a stand against them.
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[1] “Holdings: Robinson Crusoe /,” accessed February 28, 2020, https://catalog.lib.uchicago.edu/vufind/Record/3600055.
[2] Charles Boyle, “Robinson Crusoe at 300: Why It’s Time to Let Go of This Colonial Fairytale,” The Guardian, April 19, 2019, sec. Books, https://www.theguardian.com/books/2019/apr/19/robinson-crusoe-at-300-its-time-to-let-go-of-this-toxic-colonial-fairytale.
[3] Boyle.
[4] “Holdings: Robinson Crusoe /.”
[5] Frances E. Willard, A Woman of the Century :Fourteen Hundred-Seventy Biographical Sketches Accompanied by Portraits of Leading American Women in All Walks of Life / (Buffalo, N.Y. :, 1893), http://hdl.handle.net/2027/hvd.rsm75k.