I’ve always been interested in Transcendentalism. It was a trend that began in high school, when I was first introduced to authors such as Henry David Thoreau and Ralph Waldo Emerson. Because of this, I originally planned on attending the Thoreau-Harding lecture by Dr. Spencer Crew out of sheer interest, and debated even writing this response to it. However, Dr. Crew covered topics far beyond my expectations, which prompted me to make this post.
Dr. Crew began the lecture with a typical introduction of who Thoreau was, and why he was well known. He covered works such as Walden and On Civil Disobedience, concentrating primarily on the latter. In his discussion of Civil Disobedience, he referenced how Thoreau was opposed to slavery. While that itself was interesting to discover, Dr. Crew truly shocked me when he began talking about Thoreau’s female family members. As it turns out, Thoreau’s mother Cynthia Thoreau, and sisters Sophia and Helen Thoreau, were all deeply involved with both the abolitionist and women’s rights movements. They wrote papers on the issues, hosted large events, and publicly spoke out against slavery, as well as the standing women had in American society. Not only were these women intensely involved in such groundbreaking movements, but they participated before Henry David Thoreau himself. The fact that he had family members who were abolitionists didn’t surprise me, but I’ve never even heard of these women, and that did. Back in high school, two of my classes spent more than a month of Mr. Thoreau, and in that time, my teachers never made any mention of his family.
After the lecture ended, I was stuck on what struck me as an injustice. Despite an arguably deeper involvement in civil rights than Henry David Thoreau, Cynthia, Sophia, and Helen Thoreau are only acknowledged through their relation to this man. Strangely enough, this reminded me of a relationship in Frenzy by Percival Everett. Vlepo, Dionysos’ companion (see, there it is!), is hardly noticed by others. Although he strives to contribute to the world as his own person, he is only ever acknowledged because of his connection to Dionysos. For instance, when Vlepo talks to Sybil, she only asks after Dionysos. He introduces himself, and she responds “‘My name is Sibyl.’ She studied me (Vlepo) for a second and said, ‘You are the aide of my Bakkhos?’ ‘Yes.’ Sibyl’s face softened. ‘You are close to my Bakkhos?’ ‘Yes.’ And here my station was thrown into my face like so much water; the woman I was loving found me of interest only because of my relationship with the god. I looked to the ground and tried to find my shadow, to see if I cast one, to see if it possessed any definition…” (Everett, 85) There are other instances where Vlepo receives the same treatment from a majority of the novel’s cast. However, I chose this quote in particular because Vlepo realizes his position, and questions his own personhood as a result. In most interactions, he’s only ever recognized for his relation to Dionysus. No one makes any effort to learn more about who Vlepo is. In this case, Dionysos takes Thoreau’s place as the “attention-grabber”. Status (as a god or as a man) in each society grants the two an eager platform of listeners, who hang on to their every word. On the other hand, that same audience may neglect the brilliance of others close to the figure due to their “lower” status (as a mortal or as a woman), and only notice them through their connection to the well-known person.
Contemplating this link between Everett and Dr. Crew made me consider not only Vlepo’s own potential for brilliance, but also the historical figures that may have been lost in the unfair shadow of one more prominent. So with this in mind, give these three women a google; there’s some amazing information out there.