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Article Excerpt
One of the great achievements of recent historians of gender has been to expose masculinity to historical inquiry and thereby define it as a gendered position, as opposed to somehow universal or gender-neutral. (1) This approach has helped to illustrate the central role of patriarchy (power over women) in the history of masculinity. While celebrating the significance of this analysis, many have argued that it does not go far enough. R W Connell famously argued in 1987 that the emphasis on patriarchy alone leaves untouched the extent to which masculinity constitutes not only a power relationship between men and women, but also a power relationship between men and men. He writes that '"hegemonic masculinity" is always constructed in relation to various subordinated masculinities as well as in relation to women.' (2) Following this argument, this article engages in an analysis of masculinity as a complex form of social power, or discourse, which encompasses relations between men and men, as well as relations between men and women.
The first part of the paper examines the performance of middle-class masculinity in Sydney during the mid-nineteenth century via the picnic and the promenade. These rituals defined a number of characteristics as central to the discourse of middle-class masculinity. These included dignity, which was represented through an emphasis on specific codes of dress and behaviour, with bad language and drunkenness being particularly censured; independence, which was represented through an emphasis on the picnic as a symbol of private property; and patriarchal authority, which was represented in the way the picnic was structured around the gendered division of labour. The importance of both the picnic and the promenade in conveying these values was their public visibility. In this respect the picnic blanket, for example, functioned as a complex sign. At the same time that it represented the inviolacy of the domestic sphere it was also invisible/transparent. Thus it celebrated a man's authority over the domestic space in a very public way. It rendered the usually very private relationship between a man and his family visible for all to see.
The culture of middle-class masculinity represented by the picnic and the promenade was 'hegemonic' to the extent that it was taken up by the working classes. Speaking of an Anniversary Day picnic in 1843, for example, the Sydney Morning Herald described it as 'an amusement that affords enjoyment to persons of all classes ... from the Governor to the labourer.' (3) This refrain was repeated the following year. 'The Regatta', the report stated, 'is an event which all classes may enjoy.' (4) This discourse continued throughout the 1850s and 1860s. 'This "camping" and feasting with a luxurious abandon is something delightful to witness,' the Sydney Morning Herald reported in 1860, '[as it] proves the existence of a widespread happiness and content in spite of all drawbacks, whether social or political.' (5)
During the 1880s, however, a moral panic developed around a group of working-class men in Sydney who were seen to actively undermine the hegemonic nature of the picnic and the promenade. These men were known as larrikins. Throughout the 1880s and 1890s larrikins were notorious for invading Sydney's promenades and picnic resorts, and indulging in behaviour that was always described as reckless, self-indulgent and indicative of an absolute lack of self-control. Larrikins used foul language, drank to excess, danced riotously, fought amongst themselves and with anyone else who got in their way and went bathing in the public gaze. They were seen to generally spoil the day for everyone but themselves.
In the final section of the paper I will examine the way in which middle-class men, supported by the press, defined these larrikins as unmanly. They did this through an analysis of their physical features, their clothes, and their relationships with women, which were represented as transgressing patriarchal norms. In this way I illustrate the extent to which, in Connell's words, '"hegemonic masculinity" is always constructed in relation to various subordinated masculinities as well as in relation to women.' (6)
Larrikins were not the only threat to hegemonic masculinity to emerge towards the end of the nineteenth century. Indeed, evidence from many different directions confirms that this period represented a crisis in middle-class men's control. The New Woman was another powerful threat, as was the unionised worker. (7) It is arguable that the pressure exerted by these groups and individuals led to an important transformation in the codes of middle-class masculinity around this time. In very broad terms, it was at this time that the earnest, expressive, Evangelical and domesticated manliness of the mid-nineteenth century (8) gave way to the insistence on masculinity as the opposite of femininity, a difference often expressed through the body, whether on the imperial frontier, the public school sports field, the military parade ground, in the pages of juvenile literature or on the beach. (9)
Middle-Class Masculinity in Mid-Nineteenth-Century Sydney
In the following section I trace the extent to which middle-class masculinity was performed through the rituals of promenading, picnicking and social dancing in Sydney during the mid-nineteenth century. The attributes of manly character expressed through these rituals were numerous. One of the most important aspects of these rituals was the fact that they occurred outdoors and in the public gaze. This was especially important because, as John Tosh writes, following Connell, manliness was essentially a public discourse. It denoted those attributes which men were 'happy to own, which they had often acquired by great effort, and which they frequently boasted about.' (10)
Picnicking
The picnic represented middle-class manliness in a number of ways. For this reason, many attributed it with enormous social and moral significance. Indeed one writer in the Sydney Morning Herald suggested that the picnic was 'not merely a matter of eating and drinking al fresco, but may have a moral influence not to be despised.' (11) Another suggested that picnics were 'matters of absolute duty.' (12)
Perhaps the most important aspect of the picnic as a sign of middle-class manliness was an emphasis on the ownership of private property and the associated sense of independence this bestowed. Here the picnic blanket was of central importance. In the words of Paul Carter, it symbolised a form of ground clearing. (13) The fact that the picnic blanket was situated (ostensibly) in nature also invested it with great significance as a sign of manliness.
The ideal spot for achieving this kind of experience of ownership and possession was some kind of wooded dell, charming bower or pleasant and shady nook which was at once secluded and protected from any visitors' gaze or chilly breeze which might come off the ocean, but which, at the same time opened out onto a magnificent and romantic panoramic view over the harbour or the ocean. At such places, while the bush closed in around the back, 'as dark and wild to the eye as when Cook and Banks and Solander sailed in here more than a hundred years ago,' (14) out in front, everything was arranged so that nothing extraneous could encroach upon the display and curb the spectator's field of vision. Thus these 'dells' with their unhindered view over the ocean, it was commonly reported, allowed the picnickers to imagine themselves 'many miles distant from a smoky metropolis'. (15) In this way the picnic blanket created an all-seeing vantage point from which the ocean was consumed over lunch as a panoramic view. The Australian of 3 July 1841, for example, referred readers to 'the number of picnics that constantly take place at North Bondi ... [which] commands a view of the sea and the heads [that] takes in at a bird's eye glance a circuit of many miles; and has a magnificent sheltered sandy beach.' (16)
The 'sylvan groves' of Manly and, especially, Little Manly, were said to be able to accommodate 'at the least fifty picnic parties in every week,' (17) and were a great attraction. Here (at Little Manly) 'retired nooks' were said to be found 'on all sides', and, despite the fact that a ferry wharf was built here in 1860 which was serviced by two steamers, the Victoria and...
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